#i’ll try to think about them less for my mental health | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melodygatesauthor · 1 year ago

Text

Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe Three - The Therapist

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

Summary: I arrived in a different universe, and in this one you’re a therapist. I saw your name on one of the doors when the orderlies were dragging me down the hall to a cell. I guess luck was on my side, I wouldn’t have to search very far for you this time, not that I would’ve been given a chance anyway. When the orderlies saw me, I think I scared them and they thought I was delusional. They took my watch, I’ll have to get that back…but I have to find you first.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, More tags on the masterlist.

Word Count: 3.8k

It was a morning like every other.

You pulled into the parking lot of the Lennox House for the Mentally Insane, coffee in hand, ready to start your day. You loved your job as a therapist, especially when you felt like everything was in order. You had a good handle on your patients, all of them making good progress on their goals; nothing felt more rewarding as a mental health provider.

But you weren’t prepared for the wrench the unsuspecting six foot nine man was about to throw your way.

You wondered if your success was the reason you were assigned the new and highly delusional patient. After getting into your office and pulling out his nearly empty file, you looked at him from across your desk, his eyes calm, but unsettlingly trained on you. He had a slight smirk curling at the corners of his lips, as though he were trying to appear less intimidating. His size alone was enough to make any sane person quiver. He didn’t even try to tug on his restraints though, and that put you a little more at ease.

“Miguel O’Hara…” you said, closing the thin manila folder in front of you. “It’s nice to meet you I’m–”

“I know your name.”

Miguel sat, strapped uselessly to the wheelchair the orderlies had brought him in. He knew he could rip the restraints off at any given moment, but when he’d heard he was being assigned to you as his therapist, he decided to behave. He needed to see you; he needed to talk to you.

This was a change of pace. In his universe, you were a graphic designer. It was something you’d always enjoyed. In the second one, despite working at a coffee shop, you still seemed to have a hobby of creating artwork for some side income. Now you were a therapist. It was unexpected, but in the multiverse, anything was possible. Miguel was just glad that it seemed like in this universe, you’d never met him before, making this a lot easier - he didn’t have to worry about eliminating his alternate -.

“The orderlies said that you were wandering the halls when they found you? They said that when you saw my name you specifically asked for me to treat you. Why?” You crossed your legs and narrowed your eyes at the man.

You were careful while talking to this one. He was massive in size, not only in his height, but this man wasn’t skipping arm day, that’s for sure. You trusted him, despite being told not to trust patients - they can be manipulative - but you knew he was strong enough to rip his arms from the restraints at any given moment, and yet he sat there. To say you were intrigued was an understatement. Who was this man? And how did he know you?

After wasting so much time in the last universe, he wanted to change his approach. He wanted to try being more direct and honest with you. With a deep sigh, he pressed his lips together and looked you in the eye. You looked good all dressed up in your little pencil skirt and white blouse. He’d never seen you in a lip color that shade of red, but he liked it. Even if you weren’t quite the same, he liked the way you looked in this universe.

“Because, I traveled a long way to find you mi vida,” he started, smirking at you rather pathetically, but he was desperate for you to understand, “and I’m going to tell you why you’re going to take these restraints off my wrists and say yes when I ask you to marry me.”

Your patients had said some crazy shit before. Being in an insane asylum, even a minimum security one, naturally you would expect to hear some outlandish things, but that had to be the most delusional thing you’d heard to date. You furrowed your brow, continuing to take notes. You hummed in amusement.

“You’re very bold, Mr. O’Hara–”

“Miguel.”

“Miguel.” You cleared your throat, smirking in an attempt to show that you weren’t fazed by his surprising statement, “you’ve piqued my curiosity, but I’m certainly not sure why you think I would do that.”

“Ask me.”

“Ask you what?” You asked, scribbling more notes on your legal pad.

“Ask me how I became so wracked with grief that I created a device to travel the multiverse just so I could find you again,” he said, eyes darting between yours to see if you believed a word coming out of his mouth.

You were stunned. You’d seen patients in a catatonic state, but this wasn’t like that, he was far too clear as he spoke. This also didn’t present as the usual schizophrenic case you would expect to see from the majority of your patients. He was completely calm, making eye contact, and very direct in his line of thinking. He was either so deep in his delusion that he genuinely believed everything coming out of his mouth…or he was telling the truth.

“Miguel, why don’t you tell me more about how you got here, let’s start with that.”

Redirection didn’t always work, but if you could find a crack in his story, you might be able to get him back to a basis in reality.

“I used my watch, the one that security took from me. Gonna need that back by the way, very dangerous if it gets into the wrong hands.” He leaned forward a little, eyes narrowing on you. “I used my watch to travel from a universe where you were a barista with a piss poor attitude, to this one where you’re a therapist apparently.”

You scoffed, “I was a barista?”

Miguel could tell you weren’t buying it, so he decided to be more direct now.

“Listen, I’m looking for the universe where you don’t die,” he watched your expression to see how you’d react.

Regardless of how delusional he sounded, something like that would make anyone feel a bit uneasy. You shifted in your chair, putting your pen down on the desk. Miguel’s expression softened, likely seeing that his words had an effect on you. After all the years of you being a therapist, you’d never let a patient make you uncomfortable like that.

“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, standing up and heading for the door.

“Wait!” Miguel yelled, wheelchair creaking forward a smidge when his body lurched to try and stop you. It worked. You turned and looked at him. “You have to believe me. I’m just trying to keep you alive. If you don’t listen to me…you’ll die.”

“Goodbye, Mr. O’Hara,” you said, opening your office door. “You’re going to be reassigned to a different therapist. I don’t think I’m a good fit for you.”

“No no no, wait!” He pulled his hands free from the restraints, something you both knew he was capable of.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, “Help!” You yelled, only resulting in his strong hand covering your mouth quickly.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk,” he said, voice trembling in desperation.

You looked terrified, and rightfully so. This huge man that you’d never met before was towering over you, staring at you with such intensity, you thought you might faint in terror. He took his hand off your mouth and held a finger to his lips.

“Shh, mi vida, por favor,” he spoke softly, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“G-go sit down in your chair n-now,” you said, legs shaking wildly.

He put his hands up in surrender, showing you that he was willing to comply with your request. He walked over and sat down in his chair, the weight of his body forcing the equipment to sigh under his frame. There was a silence in the room, a silence that made it easy to hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You took a deep breath.

Miguel recognized that face, you were going to run. He sighed, he’d tried a different approach this time, and it didn’t pay off. Instead, his attempt had you rushing out into the hall, shouting for an orderly or two to help you. He didn’t fight them when they ran in, sticking him with a couple of syringes, being too massive for only one to do the job.

You didn’t stop thinking about him for the entire night. His words rang through your mind like a broken record:

‘I’m looking for the universe where you don’t die’.

No matter how hard you tried to shake it from your mind, it was impossible. For a week you managed to avoid talking to him again, but your curiosity - or perhaps it was your anxiety -, got the better of you. Your co-worker, and the patient coordinator, Stacy, spoke to you exactly one week after you’d last spoken to Miguel.

“He’s still asking for you every day,” she said, handing you his chart, “Dr. Harrow doesn’t want to work with him anymore, says he’s not getting anywhere with Mr. O’Hara.”

You took his file from her hands, looking it over, “So you put him back in there with me, knowing how dangerous he is and that he’s targeting me? That doesn’t sound like the best idea.”

She followed you down the hall as you walked, “I said that, but the higher ups insisted that you should see him. They gave him more sedatives and stronger restraints than last time so–”

“So nothing, I can’t believe they’d do this,” you said, tone laced in frustration.

You weren’t sure if you were upset because you were worried he was going to physically harm you, or if you were worried that there was validity to the words that had kept you up every night for the last several nights. You stopped in front of your office door, letting out a deep exhale. Stacy touched your back, patting it gently.

“Well, at least he’s hot.” She chuckled.

You rolled your eyes at her before opening the door and stepping into your office. There he was, sitting in the chair, eyes hooded from the sedatives when he looked up at you. His restraints were doubled, both his legs and wrists tied down with metal this time, rather than the flimsy leather from before. You felt a little better, but you were still afraid of what he might say. No patient of yours had ever been so direct when targeting you before.

“Hello again Mr. O’Har–”

“Miguel…or you can just call me ‘baby’, the way you used to,” he said, words coming out in a slow drawl due to his mentally inhibited state.

“Miguel…” you said with a sigh, “I’ll continue to treat you, but you need to be more appropriate when you speak to me or you’ll have to seek treatment elsewhere.”

“Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He sounded genuine, eyes looking up at you from under his lashes. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting your unease, so you nodded with a meek ‘thanks’, before sitting down behind your desk. He leaned over and wiped his drool slick lips on his shoulder, unsuccessful in cleaning the mess. Inappropriate as it may have been, you weren’t going to let the poor guy sit there in a mess like that.

You took a tissue and walked over to him. Miguel couldn’t believe you would touch him, not after the way he’d frightened you. He thought this version of you would be impossible to get through to after his first interaction with you, but perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps being blunt with you was going to work after all.

You held the tissue in your hand and wiped his lips. You damned yourself for mentally commenting on how soft they looked. With a shaky breath, you finished and sat back down at your desk. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“You didn’t want to talk to anyone else so…go ahead…talk,” you took out a notebook and a pen, waiting for him to start.

“Was that Stacy? Or maybe it was Mira?” He chuckled, watching your eyes flick up quickly to lock onto his.

“So you saw my co-worker’s name plate at some point, I presume? Who let you walk by the front desk of the asylum?” You asked, feeling a pit of unease forming in your stomach at his mention of your two closest friends and coworkers.

He shrugged, “I saw Stacy’s yes, is Mira not your co-worker in this universe?”

He could see you getting anxious. You always clicked your pen incessantly when you did, back in his universe. He wasn’t trying to make you feel crazy, but rather, he was trying to make you realize that he was sane. Finally, you looked at him again.

“M-Mira used to work here, but how do you know–”

“What about Emily? Your step sister…”

“No…no, no, no…” you got up quickly, heading for the door.

Miguel called your name, and you stopped, turning slowly to face him.

“I’m not trying to scare you, mi vida, I’m trying to save your life. If you would…please…entertain me for just a moment.” He rattled his wrists in his chair. “I couldn’t do anything to hurt you even if I wanted to. I’m fucking…I’m drooling on myself and I’m stuck to this damn chair.”

You stared at him for a while, considering your options. If he was insane, which was the most likely explanation, then helping him through this was your duty as a therapist. If he was telling the truth…you needed to try and figure out what he meant anyway. No matter which way you sliced it, the only way you could sleep at night would be to hear him out. You slowly walked back to your desk and sat down. When you picked your pen back up you realized that you were shaking.

“Have you been stalking me?” You asked bluntly.

“No,” he returned your tone. “I know you, I know you well, and if you’ll hear me out with an open mind for just a second, I can explain everything to you.”

You gestured with your arms to give him the floor. He nodded, thanking you in Spanish before letting out a deep sigh.

Miguel told you everything, from the day you first met in his universe to the day you died. He talked in depth about things in your life that he knew only you would know. He damned himself for crying while he explained how much he loved you. Then he went on to tell you about the second universe, where you worked at a quaint little coffee shop barista, but he didn’t express the same emotion toward that version of you as he had the first.

When he was done, you sat there in awe, doing your best to process. Not only did you believe his every word, you were trying not to fall into an existential crisis upon learning that the multiverse might actually exist. You gulped, reminding yourself quickly that if a patient is delusional enough, they can tell a lie and still pass a polygraph test. All it takes is for them to believe that lie to be true with all their heart. If he was a good enough stalker, he could easily be making all of this up, and combined with heavy delusions, you had a recipe for someone too crazy for your paygrade. He needed more care than you could provide.

“Miguel…” you looked him in the eye, unsure of how to respond.

A buzzer saved you, indicating that the time for your session was at an end. He didn’t fight, he’d learned the hard way that breaking the rules of the asylum would get him nowhere. Regardless, he couldn’t continue like this for long, he was wasting too much time. If this version of you wasn’t going to see things his way, he needed to move on.

One more session…

Both of you were thinking the same thing without realizing. You would give him one more session to sway you one way or another, and he would give you one more to make up your mind before he moved forward.

He was already waiting for you in your office when he heard you clicking down the hall toward the door. He heard you stop, and then Stacy started talking to you.

“I texted Mira and she’s down, you wanna come out for drinks with us?” Stacy asked.

Miguel’s heart nearly stopped. Was this it already? Was this the day you’d die if he didn’t stop you from going out with your damn friends? He thought about the last universe though. You still died, even before you were supposed to go out with your friends, as though it were a static event that happened in every universe you existed in.

“Yeah sure that sounds fun! I’ll meet you at your place around seven?”

Once you finished finalizing your plans, you made your way into the office and sat down behind your desk, trying not to make eye contact with the man whose words had kept you up at night over the last week. You averted his gaze until you couldn’t anymore, finally looking at him and sighing heavily.

“Hi Miguel, how was your week?”

You started the same way you started every session.

“If you go out with your friends tonight, you’ll die,” he said, speaking coldly, “I told you that’s how you died before, remember?”

“You really expect me to believe that? Come on. I’ve been wracking my brain all week trying to decide how I felt about what you said and I’m not buying it.” You spoke with little conviction, voice wavering slightly. “Plus in the second universe you said I died getting hit by a car, not from being in a car so–”

“I know, but the days started the same both times, your friends talking about meeting up for drinks and you agreeing to go,” he sighed, “What have you got to lose, hm?” He looked intense now. “If I’m wrong, then you can toss me in my cell for the rest of my days and label me insane, but if I’m right, then you’re going to come back here and realize that I’m telling the truth.”

“How…how will I know that you’re telling the truth versus making this up?”

You’d left out the fact that Stacy and Mira died in each universe as well, not wanting to complicate things by mentioning them. He looked up at you, brow furrowed and face full of frustration. He was hoping that after you finally believed him, that this alternate version of you would be worth all this time he’d put into you.

“You’ll just know.”

He was right.

The next day you came into work, despite having just lost your two closest friends, to confront the insane man who suddenly didn’t seem so insane. If you’d been in the car with them that night, you would’ve died alongside them. You stormed into your office after demanding Miguel be brought in to see you immediately. You’d grabbed his watch from storage, putting it on your desk.

Success had never looked so heartbreaking. Miguel hated seeing you so distraught. Your bottom lip was trembling and your eyes were glossed over with tears. He hated being right sometimes. You pointed to the watch with a shaking hand. Your face held a combination of anger and sorrow etched in every pore.

“You’re saying that this thing is…you can travel to other universes–”

“Si, honey but listen–”

“-going on but I believe you, I really fucking believe you–”

Your eyes were crazed, “mi vida, don’t touch that please, it’s not–”

“-through the multiverse and I mean, you’re insane and I’m insane for even thinking you might–”

You picked up the watch, holding it in your hand and putting it on your wrist while you continued to talk over Miguel’s desperate protests. He started wriggling in his chair, trying desperately to get free. You didn’t understand how that thing worked. It wasn’t made for you.

“-I thought to myself why the hell didn’t I just take this damn thing and prove once and for all that–!”

It wasn’t made for you…

When Miguel built it, he’d put in a failsafe to prevent anyone else from taking it and using it. If someone stole it from him, or he ended up in an insane asylum and had it confiscated, they wouldn’t be able to take it to another universe, leaving him behind and helpless. Since there was no telling where the watch would take him, he wanted to prevent the possibility of ending up in one that didn’t have modern technology, and getting stuck there…without you. So it was hardwired to work with only his DNA, and no one else’s.

It would appear that his failsafe ended up being what killed you in that universe. You pressed the button on the watch, waiting for something to happen with bated breath. Miguel hoped that his device would malfunction. He’d taken a liking to this version of you, but it didn’t. He watched as your body convulsed, flesh bubbling and tearing from the inside out as the energy that would normally transport him from one place to another coursed through you.

Your screams would be etched into his memories for the rest of his days. It didn’t matter that you weren’t the original, it was still your voice crying for help and ringing through his ears. He’d never seen anything so horrific, not even in horror films. You were gone again, and this time he felt despair again. He almost wished that if you were going to die, that you’d gone in the car with your friends instead, that way he wouldn’t have to go to the next universe covered in your blood and with the sound of your cries on repeat in his head.

He managed to shimmy himself over to the part of your blazer where he knew you kept your ring of keys. Tipping over onto the floor he could get to them, moving his wrist in a way that just barely reached the lock holding his hand in place. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, truly, but when three orderlies and a security guard tried to stop him from getting his bag containing his personal items, including that photo of the original you, he had no choice. He even warned them to stay out of his way, but when they didn’t listen, he was forced to make them.

Stepping over their bodies, bag in hand and watch on his wrist, he activated the device. He was still searching for the perfect you.

Thank you for reading! You can support your favorite writers by the simple act of reblogging AND liking! Thank you again!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara imagine #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara noncon #miguel o'hara noncon #miguel o'hara non-con #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fan fiction

643 notes · View notes

vlrghoes · 3 months ago

Text

What Once Was | Chapter One

author’s note: I edited and proof read this after coming back from the club so if you see something wrong don’t be afraid to point it out as I’m quite friendly anyway!

I still don’t know if I like this chapter but overall I’m just shy about sharing my work because I’m hyper judgmental of my own work but I still wanted to share this with you guys anyway.

The chapters after this will be set a few years after this (which will be clarified in the chapters)

I’m English so if anything is wrong in terms of America and the health practices please forgive me!

I’m literally yapping now but I do want to say that I can’t promise chapter two will come in under 2 weeks as I’ve just finished my law degree and landed my dream job (not related to my degree) and I start training next Sunday and it’s for 5 weeks, really intense and with exams almost every day and if I mess up I lose my job. (Not sure if it’s obvious what my job is but anyways.) Also it’s my birthday on Wednesday and I’m celebrating Thursday so less time to write!

cw/tw: death, pregnancy complications, heavy angst, references to mental health and body dysmorphia/body image issues

word count: 4370 (I never usually write more than 2k so this is weird for me)

tag list (ask to be added): @trippinsorrows @cyberdejos2 @maeb99 @southerngirl41 @callmekayd @trentybenty @tian-monique @rose-bliss (if your name isn’t in grey, it’s not letting me tag you but I’ll try in the comment section)

masterlist

“You’re choosing that stupid title over your family again.” Ayanna’s voice cracked, the finality of her words hanging in the air as Joe stood frozen, his guilt palpable and his resolve wavering. She had spent all day running around the house and decorating for their special day. She spent hours preparing a nice steak dinner for the two of them, however it had been left untouched, the wait quelling her appetite as she now only felt sick. The dress she picked out now felt too revealing, no longer complimenting her body. Suddenly it clung to all the wrong parts and accentuated her weight gain, making her feel like a whale instead. The candles in the house had melted to the point where the fire had flickered out and the playlist she had queued just sounded like white noise at this point. Nothing matters anymore because Joe is late, late home once again and Ayanna is reaching breaking point. She spent hours waiting for him after she prepared their dinner, but all the effort didn’t matter anymore because instead of romance, the air was filled with tension and dread. “You know they’re due any day now, Joe how could you do this to me, to us. How can you still be wrestling so soon to my due date?” She said, her voice filled with emotion as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t want to cry, she had cried so much this entire pregnancy and she felt miserable. Instead of having that pregnancy glow like Rihanna, she had the life sucked out of her and she just felt lifeless.

“Look baby, I'm sorry.” Joe began, trying to figure out mentally how to get himself out of the trouble he was in. It wasn’t his fault, the media day for Wrestlemania was meant to finish much earlier but they took longer to set up, in turn making Joe’s interview (which was last) late. He had intended to be home earlier but it just seemed like the universe had other plans.

“Don’t even bother” Ayanna sighed, playing with the ring on her finger which now felt like it weighed a tonne. When they first got together, he gave it to her as a promise he’d marry her and whilst he did deliver on that promise, since getting pregnant and no longer being able to join him on the road she wondered if it was worth it sometimes. It’s not that she didn’t love Joe, hell sometimes she thinks she loves him too much. However she now isn’t sure if he loved her more than that title. He used to be so romantic; he’d bring her flowers every single day no matter what, he’d take her on dates, even small ones that weren't as lavish and she loved it. But the more he climbed up the ranks of WWE, the less the romance was there. Then shortly after he became champion everything stopped. Their marriage hit the rocks as he was never home and he started to miss things such as birthdays and christmases, so to save their marriage Ayanna gave up everything and joined him on the road. It was all going great until her later stages of pregnancy which stopped her from travelling with him but the most important thing for Ayanna was that he never missed an anniversary.

Well that was until now.

“Do you even know what day it is?” Ayanna asked, her voice quiet as she watched his mind tick, the cogwheels visabilly spinning with his face scrunched up in confusion, dull eyes squinting until it all finally clicks and he looks at her horrified. “You know, as bad as you’ve been lately, I always used to say ‘at least he’d always remembered our anniversary’ but it seems I can’t even say that anymore.” She spits, her heart breaking as the words leave her mouth.

“Yana” he started, feeling dizzy as he watched her flinch, a look almost of disgust flashing within her eyes. The nickname didn’t bring the butterflies it used to bring anymore, instead it forced a swell of emotion that made her feel like she could spew her guts any second. She used to look at him in adoration, but as the years passed the glimmer in her eyes decreased daily until they were fully extinguished. “Baby things are going to change after wrestlemania, I promise. Just one more match, after this I promise I’ll ask Vince again for some time off, I’m sure he’ll give it to me this time.”

The both of them knew that he was telling her what he wanted her to hear, the same conversation being repeated so many times to the point where they felt like they were in limbo. The last time Joe had asked, Vince told him he couldn’t have time off as he was their top star and Joe simply didn’t ask again. He always seemed to lack a backbone in situations that require him having one, but is happy to have a backbone and be stubborn when he doesn't need to be. Ayanna was exhausted, carrying one baby is hard enough but of course Joe carried the twin gene so she was carrying two instead and it felt like they were draining the life from her body. “I just want you to be present Joe, I feel like a single mother despite being married.” She pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. No one ever mentioned how lonely pregnancy is. She had lost many friends as she couldn’t go out to the club or drink anymore which meant that she spent days on end staring at the four walls of her bedroom watching the time pass as she waited up for Joe to come home. She sighed, tears threatening to well in her eyes which made her mentally curse. Stupid baby hormones. “You made the same promise last time, I don’t think you understand that one day I may not be here. You’ve missed so much already and you will never get this time back.”

She waited for Joe to say something, anything that could save the situation and at some points she felt like he was. But he’d then swallow the words back with a bitter taste and instead just looked at her in defeat. Nothing could save Ayanna for the despair she felt and she felt stupid even having this conversation with him. Instead, she gives him one more look over, a silent plea to say something or do something but the window of time closes as soon as she opens and she ends up turning on her feet and going to bed. She kept her room door ajar, hoping he’d come and knock, give her the tight hugs he used to give her and shower her in kisses and apologies but it never happens.

Joseph himself didn’t know what to do. They had the fairytale romance all their friends envied when they were younger, he was the promising D1 football player and she was a shoe-in to be a future Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. They looked good together and spent years in their honeymoon phase, yet somehow as they grew older the fairytale had started to wear off. He looked around the room with a frown, his stomach twisting and his heart aching as he realised exactly how much effort she had put in for their anniversary dinner and in that moment he felt like a horrible person. He knew he needed to pack as he was leaving at 5AM to get a jet for Wrestlemania but a large part of him wanted to go and fix the situation. But he knew nothing could ever fix it. They promised each other that they’d never go to bed without resolving an argument but that promise got broken several times to the point of which it no longer had any weight. So instead, Joe went into the walk-in closet and packed his things, believing that there’s nothing he could do to fix the situation.

That night, for the first time in their marriage the couple slept in separate rooms. Joe in the guest room tossing and turning in his own guilt, whilst Ayanna tried her hardest to muffle her sobs in the pillow. Her tears soaked the case through and her heart shattered in the pieces.

The next morning, Ayanna woke with the worst headache. Her head was pounding so intensely it hurt to open her eyes, however she put it down to the fact she spent all night crying and didn’t sleep. She called out for Joe, hoping he’d be home still so they could make up after their argument and wish him luck tonight as no matter what she loved him and didn’t want to continue on with another argument. But as she made it to the guest room, she realised it was too late and he was already gone. Her heart splintered like fragile glass, and she wept until the well of her tears ran dry, leaving her hollow and desolate.

“Fix your face uce.” His cousin Joshua says with a nudge. Joe having a face like a slapped ass and a snappy attitude had become too common these days and the twins, Joe’s only confidants, knew exactly what was going on. They’d grown up with Joe and practically spent their whole lives with Ayanna through her association with Joe, meaning they had been privy to almost all of the couple’s relationship issues.

“He’s right, every day you walk around here with the face you used to have when my dad used to whoop us all for breaking the window with the football.” Jonathon adds on, a small chuckle escaping from his twin brother as the memory of that day flashes through him. The twins and Joseph had grown up together due to their parents living next door to one another. Rikishi, the twin’s father and Joe’s uncle would say the twins were a bad influence. However everyone who knew them knew that it was actually Joe, he always managed to get away from it all by snitching on the boys before they could save themselves. Which is what led to all of them getting chased with a broom stick as children after Joseph broke the window as they were all playing football, but instead of admitting it he blamed the twins whilst the twins blamed him so the punishment was collective.

“Are you fighting with Yana again?” Joshua asks, earning him a dirty look from both his twin brother and Joseph as the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. The two of them somehow manage to fight more than Joshua and his baby mother, and the pair of them were never even together, just a stupid one night stand.

The pair wait for Joseph to say something but it becomes more and more obvious that he has nothing to say, but the situation is clearly bothering him. Jonathan, the self-labelled “mature” one out of the twins, felt it was best to offer some advice, even if Joe didn’t ask. “Man, I don’t know what’s going on but I know you two have been together since you were both thirteen, whatever it is you’ll make it through it. You guys have always found a way.” The advice, albeit sweet, doesn't really make a difference for Joe. But thankfully he gets called for his press conference anyway so he doesn’t have to engage in the conversation further and he shifts from vulnerable ‘Joe’ to the formidable ‘Roman,’ like a Jekyll turning into Hyde, shedding his worries and fears to become the stoic, unyielding figure everyone dreads.

Joe never really cared for press conferences, however since he was the face of the company he was obligated to fulfil every duty in his contract. He was always used to giving the cookie cutter answers to the usual questions like “what are your expectations tonight?” and “how do you feel about your opponent?” However, he gets caught off guard when someone in the crowd asks "with the demands of your career, how do you balance your professional and personal life, especially with your wife expecting?" The question then places a pang of guilt in his stomach once more as he’s forced to remember their argument from last night. He really wanted to speak to her before he left but he didn’t want to wake her up and his flight was too early for him to stay. He took a thought and tried to compose an appropriate answer before taking a small breath.

“It’s a challenge, no doubt.” He began, slightly sounding defensive whilst making sure to try and make eye contact with the journalist in the crowd to make sure he appeared engaged in the topic. “But I’ve always believed that if you’re committed to something, you find a way to make it work. My family understands what this career means to me, and I make sure to be there for them as much as I can. After tonight, I’m looking forward to some quality time with them.” The words feeling hollow knowing his home life isn’t in a good place.

At home, Ayanna rubs her temples trying to quell the headache that has seemed to intensify from earlier on. She sits on the sofa, her head spinning from the pain when a sharp, twisting pain in her abdomen causes her to shift positions. “It can't be.” she mumbles, it was too early. The twins were not meant to be due yet, she had an entire plan for Joe’s mother to come down and stay in the guest room and help her for the last week of her pregnancy up until the babies hit six months, this can’t be happening. Her phone lay on the coffee table, just out of reach. She stared at it, debating whether to call Joseph or not. But he was probably in the middle of his press conference. She didn’t want to worry him—she could handle this.

She bided her time, until the pain suddenly intensified, radiating from her abdomen up to her chest. Ayanna’s breath hitched, panic creeping in as she realised something was seriously wrong. She forced herself to stand, but her legs buckled beneath her. The room spun, and she fell back onto the couch, gasping for air. She gave in and phoned Joe first, his phone going straight to voicemail as she thought before hanging up, her hands trembling as she dialled 911.“Please” she began with a gasp, struggling to even breathe, “I think something’s wrong I'm pregnant, and I—” Her voice broke off as another wave of pain hit her, harder this time as she screamed, the sound of her pained yells bouncing off the walls.

Joe, pleased with his answer to the first question, felt like he was in the clear and that would be it for the interview but then another question hit him. "There have been rumours that you were considering taking some time off after this match. Can you confirm or deny that?" The question made him feel hot under the collar, he didn’t want to give a definitive answer as Vince had already turned down his request and he didn’t want to put himself in a position that gets him in trouble. He hated it about himself and in a way he also hated Vince for putting him in this situation, however deep down he knew that he was at fault. No matter what, he was a coward and tried to avoid rocking the boat at work but all that has done is cause problems in his marriage.

He once again flashes that million dollar smile that he knew the ladies loved the most before positioning his answer. “Right now, I’m focused on tonight. Whatever comes after, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’ve heard the rumours, but my priority is to go out there, put on a hell of a show, and take care of business. The rest will fall into place." He was cool and composed, everything a champion should be, however, the answer in itself was very evasive. It was as though he had mastered the art of saying much while revealing nothing, leaving everyone guessing what truly lay beneath.

Ayanna’s vision blurred as she tried to focus on the operator’s voice. “Stay with me, ma’am, help is on the way,” the voice said, but Ayanna could barely hear it over the pounding in her head. She doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach as the baby kicked wildly inside her. Her thoughts were a jumble of fear and regret. She should have told Joseph—should have insisted he stay home. But it was too late now. The darkness at the edges of her vision crept closer, and she knew she was running out of time

Joe looked at the crowd, wanting to go backstage and get ready for his match, a sigh of relief leaving his body as he’s told this is the last question of the conference. "Any plans to celebrate after the match, or will you be rushing home to be with your family?”

Joe smiled, the question feeling so bittersweet as he’d love to have Ayanna in the crowd like she usually is tonight, but that isn’t the case. "We’ll see how the night goes. My family’s always been my anchor, so I’ll be getting back to them as soon as I can. But first, I’ve got to take care of business in that ring."The reporters nodded, satisfied with his answer. Joseph glanced at the time—just a few more minutes, and he could get back to his routine. But he had no idea that his world was about to shatter.

Ayanna’s strength was fading fast. She clutched her phone, the operator’s voice a distant echo in her ears. “Hold on, ma’am, the paramedics are almost there,” but Ayanna’s world was already slipping away.

The last thing she felt was the sharp pain in her head, then—darkness.

The crowd was electric as Joe stepped into the ring, his face stoic as he played with his wrists to loosen them up. The glamour and feel of Wrestlemania never gets old, but he stayed focused, his mind locked in on the match and his eyes focused on his opponent. He couldn’t afford any distractions - not tonight.

The bell rang, and he moved with precision, every punch, every kick calculated. He could feel the weight of the championship on his shoulders, the expectations of the fans, the promise he had made to himself to be the best. Minutes felt like seconds as the match intensified, the crowd on their feet, chanting his name. With a final, devastating move, Joseph pinned his opponent to the mat. The referee’s hand slapped the canvas—one, two, three.

The crowd booed as Joseph was declared the winner, his arm raised in victory, gutted that their golden boy Cody Rhodes had lost the title. The championship belt was handed to him, and he held it high, basking in the glory of the moment. For a few seconds, everything was perfect. But beneath the cheers and jeers, he felt an uneasy feeling run through him, it was almost as if his body was trying to warn him that this victory came at a price—one that would haunt him long after the spotlight dimmed.

After the match he walked backstage, sweat dripping down his face but a victorious smile plastered on his lips. Fellow wrestlers patted him on the back, congratulating him on another win, another title defence. He had done it again—proven why he was the best. But it didn’t feel the same without Ayanna there to give him a kiss and tell him how proud she was of him. He longed to have her sweet floral scent dancing though his nose, he simply missed her and he was going to make it his mission to call her immediately and apologise and make it up to her. In fact, he was going to ask Vince again for time off or just go to Hunter and get him to explain to Vince.

As he headed toward his locker room, he saw Vince stood them with a solemn expression. His heart dropped, usually if Vince looks at you like that you’ve done a terrible job and you’re about to be pulled off TV. “Joe, we need to talk,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.”

Joseph frowned, still riding the high of his victory. “What’s up, Vince? I’ve got some celebrating to do and I need to call my wife.”

Vince hesitated, his face pale. “Joe, it’s Ayanna… She had a stroke during labour. She had tried to call you as she was going into labour but you were in the press conference.”

The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. “What?” he whispered, his heart plummeting. “No… no, that can’t be right.” His mind scrambled to reject what he’d just heard, clinging to disbelief as though it could keep the truth at bay.

Vince’s eyes were filled with sorrow as he continued, “I haven’t heard anything else, however I would suggest that you take the jet and go to the hospital now. We will cover you in the post match press conference.” The championship belt slipped from Joseph’s grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The noise of the backstage area faded into nothingness as Joseph stood frozen, disbelief and horror washing over him.

Joseph’s heart pounds as he bursts through the hospital doors, the sounds of WrestleMania’s victory still ringing in his ears. But as he’s confronted by the white walls of the ICU, his triumph feels meaningless, distant. Joseph’s hands trembled as he pushed through the hospital doors, his mind a whirl of fear and denial. He moved as if in a trance, barely registering the people around him as he demanded to be taken to Ayanna.

“Where’s Ayanna? Where are my kids?” he demands, his voice edged with panic.

The receptionist’s eyes flickered with sorrow, looking around in desperation as she did not want to be the one to be here when the news was broken to him. Luckily for her, the doctor steps forward. “Mr. Anoa’i, I’m so sorry. Your wife suffered a massive stroke shortly after going into labour. By the time she got here, there was nothing we could do to reverse the damage. Her brain activity ceased before we could save her.”

Joseph’s breath catches, his world starting to crumble. “What… what do you mean? Where is she? Can I see her?” His voice wavered, a desperate plea for a reality that was slipping through his fingers.

The doctor hesitates, his tone measured but heavy. “We had to make a decision quickly, Mr. Anoa’i. We kept her on life support long enough to deliver the twins via emergency C-section. It was the only way to save their lives.”

For a moment, Joseph just stares, unable to comprehend the words. “You… you kept her alive just to deliver the babies?” His voice is raw with disbelief and rising fury. He couldn’t believe what was being said to him, Ayanna being reduced to a baby making machine made him feel beyond sick. They could’ve had another baby, but he could never have another Ayanna. “She wasn’t just some fucking incubator! She was my wife! She is my wife, why didn’t you save her?!”

The doctor’s eyes hold steady, though full of sympathy. “She made that decision herself. Your wife signed an advanced directive, instructing us to prioritise the babies if anything went wrong. She knew the risks and chose this course.”

The words hit Joseph like a sledgehammer. Ayanna had known this could happen and made a decision without him—a decision that had ripped her from his life. Anger surged and then ebbed away, leaving a hollow ache where it had been. He had spent his life with her, and now, learning to live without her seemed an insurmountable challenge, a cruel twist of fate.

“Where are they?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, eyes vacant.

One of the nurses gently guides him to the room where the newborns lie in their incubators. They’re tiny, fragile, and perfect. But as Joseph looks at them, he’s overwhelmed not with the joy he expected but with a deep, unsettling mix of sorrow and resentment. They’re here, alive and breathing, but Ayanna is gone. She sacrificed herself for them, and Joseph can’t help but feel a stab of resentment toward these tiny beings who cost him everything. He stands over the incubators, his hands shaking as he touches the glass. The twins stir slightly, their small cries echoing in the sterile room, but all Joseph feels is an unbearable, suffocating grief—and an anger he can’t reconcile. Whilst he was angry at the world, he was also mad at himself. What sick bastard resents an innocent child? He thought, trying to force the feeling out of his heart, but it was no use. He just couldn't stop himself being filled with disgust when he looked at them, especially as they both look exactly like her. It felt like some cruel punishment from the universe for his wrongdoing.

Finally, he forces himself to pick up one of the babies, holding the child close to his chest. The warmth of his newborn is supposed to bring him comfort, but instead, it feels like a weight pressing down on him, reminding him of what he’s lost. Tears blur his vision as he collapses into a nearby chair, the sound of the twins’ cries filling his ears. But instead of the joy and love he once imagined, all Joseph can feel is a hollow emptiness and a dark, creeping resentment that only deepens his guilt. The nurse gently touched his shoulder, but Joseph barely noticed. He sank into a chair, the twins still wailing in his arms, as tears streamed down his face. The world had stopped making sense. He had won the match, but in doing so, had lost everything that truly mattered, as if triumph had come at the cost of his very soul.

#roman reigns #liyah’s literature #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black oc #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wwe imagine #wwe x black oc #whatoncewas

141 notes · View notes

cupcakeslushie · 2 months ago

Note

Any advice for someone who's going through art block?

Art block is so difficult, because I really think it’s down to each individual person finding what helps for them.

For me, I more often just try to power through. Because if I do stop to take a break, there’s a danger, where I know I’ll get stuck for weeks, just lazing about, not getting anything done. Then it’s really hard to get back in the swing of things. But this method of being stubborn, might be horrible advice for someone whose mental health really suffers from staying in that mindset of “failing, failing, failing”. Because that’s what it can feel like, when you’re not seeing the results you want. It can be very frustrating, and it either causes you to grow even more stuck, or it lights a fire in your ass to keep you going until you’ve forced it.

Both of these methods aren’t necessarily unhealthy or bad, but they simply work for you, or they don’t. And what helps, can often change based on your mindset and energy levels.

If powering through ever does fail me, (like it kinda has recently lol). Then, I’ll throw up my hands and accept that life is telling me to take a freaking break. In a week or two, I can come back when I’m rested and inspiration hits again. Because even I have points where I just have to listen to what my brain is telling me—despite the fact that all I want to do is be drawing nonstop lol.

Ill watch some tv, listen to some music, read, cook. Whatever is relaxing. And most of these things will provide me with enough chill vibes that I can jump back in when I’m ready!

It’s all about listening to yourself and knowing when to actually give your mind and body a break.

But, If you’re coming in well rested and bright-eyed, and the art block is still popping up, maybe it’s less art block, and more just your brain being slow to switch tasks. Do some warm up sketch exercises, get up and jump around to get your blood pumping. Browse your feeds for inspiration, but set an alarm to give yourself a certain amount of time so you don’t fall down the rabbit hole. Play some banging music to get your energy up. Staring at a blank, white canvas is hardly the proper kind of stimulating activity lol. You’ll rarely find any ideas that way.

There’s plenty of methods to handling art block. The real killer of it, is more when you let it pull you into this loop of self deprecation/sabotage that only gets worse the longer you sit in it. Art block isn’t failure on your part, it doesn’t need to be punished, or mean you’re lacking as an artist.

It’s an unavoidable part of the creative process, you learn how to handle it, and how to sail through it when it hits.

It’ll either blow over when it’s ready, or when you’ve developed a good strategy to hurry it along.

#rottmnt #ask slushie #art resources #Slushie rambles

64 notes · View notes

mushroomwarning · 8 months ago

Text

A sorta long post on why I believe Lightbulb SHOULDN’T win season 2 and instead, the other three should be the candidates for winners

Before I start this off, PLEASE DONT BE MEAN TO ME WAUGHHH I’m just respectfully sharing my thoughts as someone who loves writing and I don’t even hate Lightbulb. I just don’t think she would make a good winner to make the story feel satisfied! So this isn’t LB neg, okay? Also keep in mind, I haven’t seen S2 in a hot minute so maybe I might get SOME things wrong but I’ll try my best to go on with my side.

Lightbulb

To start off, I’ll say it, Lightbulb as the possible winner of II S2 will be the most predictable and bland of the four possible contenders. Out of the four, she’s the one who’s managed to get the most out of the show, new friends, enjoyable experiences, a new pet, etc. She also has gotten a lot of screen time ( I think? ) and is a fan favorite for her wackiness n such. Yeah, she’s a little sad her friends are gone but she could always go and be with them if she just quit.

Her friends are waiting for her, honestly I’d say that’s a prize enough For her story, being able to go back and be with her friends, enjoying her time with them without worrying about the game anymore. She’s shown to be distraught with TT leaves, just go and be with your friends to stop being in this game that’s made people way more miserable. She’s got the winner attitude but it’s just. Boring. Predictable. Something that would not be that fun by a story standpoint tbh, at least in my opinion

The other three, I feel would make great winners in their own ways.

Baseball

I’ll start with Baseball, definitely an underdog and a guy nobody expects to win. That’s why he would be a wild card as a possible winner! It would shatter people’s expectations completely, but here’s the twist…If Baseball were to win, it could possible tie back into his story with Nickel. with Baseball probably thinking Nickel would pressure him to share the prize with him and his thoughts of how much of a doormat he’s been for others, Baseball could make his own decision without others influencing him, giving up the prize and giving it to the second place winner, which could be Suitcase or Knife it doesn’t matter.

THAT WOULD BE COOL WOULDN’T IT? Something that ties together Baseballs story thematically eh eh?

Knife

Anyways, Now onto Knife. He’s different from the other three in that, while he hasn’t lost anything like Suitcase or Baseball ( if I remember correctly), unless you count his dignity, he hasn’t gained anything either, unlike Lightbulb. He’s very much a pretty intelligent and strategical person, very much someone who could easily win if it played his cards correctly. There’s also a bit of a lesson he learns from S1 to S2, due to Trophy.

He learns to become less rash, mellowing out after Trophy gave him a bit of a reality check to the way he acts, even if the way he showed him wasn’t the best in the slightest, Knife learns to control his temper, mellowing out and instead uses his smarts to advance more in the game without relying on others and even gives advice to people Like Suitcase, Pickle and Microphone as he goes on.

He learns to be a better person and would honestly make a good contender for first, to reward him for his growth and change, or maybe second place if you want to show his new found humbleness in regards to his emotions

Suitcase

As for suitcase, while she’s sort of predictable as well, she isn’t as predictable as Lightbulb due to the events that she’s gone through and honestly is sort of the most deserving thematically to win out of everyone. Unlike Lightbulb, she’s lost a lot, not really gaining many friends excluding Balloon and gained mental health issues due to the treatment Nickel was giving her. This game has not treated her well in the slightest and she gains growth as time goes on, learning to stand up for herself and speak on her own.

She very much deserves the prize but at the same time, I don’t think she would care if she won or lost. She’s lost a lot and learned from her experiences in the game

Conclusion!

BUT YES. these are my reasons for why Lightbulb should not win. The others have very nice thematic reasons for why they could win but Lightbulb basically gained way WAYY more then they have out of the experience

But yeah, my ranking would go

Lightbulb- not a winner, Fourth place

Baseball - First place ( gives up prize) or Third

Knife - First or Second place

Suitcase - First or Second place too

#sorry if the grammar or spelling is off #object show community #osc #inanimate insanity #ii lightbulb #ii baseball #ii suitcase #ii knife #please be nice and respectful on your opinions..#Martin nonsense

120 notes · View notes

charliehoennam · 1 year ago

Note

Aww I love your writing so much!!!! 🩷🩷 The detective Loki A-Z felt so accurate 🥹 he’s so precious. Can you write something that kind of goes off the jealousy area? Like it’s a coworker who reader gets close with and is honestly clueless to the flirting?

F o r g i v e n

a/n: here you go, nonny! i couldn't agree more. David is my baby and he deserves some happiness and a warm hug

pairing: Detective David Loki x reader

summary: a new co-worker makes a misguided move on the reader and david gets pissed

warnings: language, angst, arguing (if i missed one, lemme know. minors, do not interact!)

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Sliding your legs over the edge of your side of the bed, you sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. David’s on the phone with O’Malley. You already know he’s gotta go into work today.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in 30 tops” he says lowly in his gravely morning voice before hanging up his cell phone.

“I’ll make breakfast” you smile sleepily at him.

You reach out to reassuringly squeeze his arm to let him know it’s alright. He’s already mentally beating himself up for waking you up and not being able to be enjoy his morning off with you as he had promised.

You make your way through the one-story house and head to the kitchen to get his coffee going. You decide on making a hearty breakfast because you know very well David will skip lunch today.

So, you settle for a nice egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich on toasted bagels with cream cheese. You make two for him so he can take one to work and hopefully eat while he’s on the road. You even cut up some bananas, apples, strawberries and oranges to make a little fruit salad.

David isn’t the healthiest guy around, but he deeply appreciates that you care for him and his health. He never really had anyone to care about him – much less his health – so he’ll sure make to eat every bite.

You hear his electric razor shut off after his shower. A while later, he comes into the kitchen with his hair slicked back. His light blue button-up shirt is open, exposing his white sleeveless undershirt. His gold chain dangles and dances around his neck as he buttons the cuffs of his shirt.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. You wish you could stop him and slide his button-up off. You love it when he wears his undershirt and chain around the house.

“Honey, think you can get a ride to work today?” he asks kissing the back of your head as you slice up the fruit.

“Yeah, babe. It’s no problem. I already texted Jared and asked him to pick me up.”

His hands working the buttons closed on his front stop as his eyes narrow in on the back of your head.

“Jared? You already texted him?”

“Yeah. I figured you’d leave before me.”

“Oh…”

You know that there’s something he’s holding back from you. You turn your head to glance at him, hoping to get a read of him as you slide the chopped-up fruit in a container.

“Is there a problem with that?”

You already know the answer to that.

“No. Nothing. Just didn’t know you and Jared were so close already. I mean, didn’t he just start there like two weeks ago?”

His eyebrows rise and his lip press flat as he looks down at his hands, letting them finish their work on his shirt.

“Two months ago, but he was pretty much on his own, so I figured I’d be the first to befriend him. The first weeks are the worst when you start working at a new place.”

“Yeah, I get that. Just didn’t think you were already texting each other.”

“Dave, there’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face says it all.”

You’re slightly hurt that he would think there could be something brewinh between you and Jared. It may come from a place of worry, but isn't that trust is for?

“Look, I gotta get going. I’ll see you tonight.”

You nod as you hand him the containers of sandwiches and his travel mug. He leaves you with a kiss on your forehead and you watch him leave, letting the tension hang in the air. You try to put it on the mental backburner as you head up to get ready for your day.

Hearing a honk coming from outside, you look out the window and confirm Jared’s arrival. You grab your bag, keys and phone before heading out the door and walking to Jared’s car.

“Hey, Jare. Thanks for the late-notice lift. David got called in and my car’s still at the shop.”

“You know I don’t mind it at all. It’s been almost a couple days though. Have they given you any updates on it?”

“Something about the starting motor failing. Solenoid damage, I think? They have to replace some coils or some shit.”

“That shouldn’t take more than a few hours to replace though.”

“David says the same thing. He’s getting pretty impatient. Said he’s gonna stop by there today to check up. You know how some mechanics can be when they see a girl with car trouble.” You complete with a roll of your eyes.

“Yeah, some pricks take advantages. I know a thing or two about cars. I’d be happy to look into it for you if you want?”

“Really? Yeah, yeah. That’d be great. I’m gonna wait for David though. He said he’d stop by there today. I’ll give you a heads up though.”

After arriving to work, you head straight for your sector to settle in. You can’t help but notice how kind Jared seems to be towards you in this new light that David casted earlier in the morning.

Jared always offers to refill your water bottle whenever he gets up, always offers snacks, brings you back your favorite coffee or tea after his breaks, compliments your hair or nails or even your perfume. During the whole day, you can’t help but notice he doesn’t treat his other co-workers the same. You begin to wonder if you’ve led him on to believe you’re more than just co-workers or if it’s because he’s new and not very close to the others.

You decide to shake the thought from your head and go on about your work. However, with this new concept in the back of your mind, you start to politely deny Jared’s kind offers. He doesn’t seem hurt by it. A small wave of relief washes over you. Maybe you were just in over your head and overthinking what David had told you.

Around closing time, Jared stops by your station to check if you need a ride home. You check your phone, hoping David texted you with a reply about picking you up, but there’s no new messages.

Your heart sinks a bit. You’d hoped he could’ve at least replied. Is he really that upset with you?

“Yeah, I could use a ride.”

The house isn’t very far. You could walk home, but the rain is already pouring down heavy. And this time of year, the cold winter air is starting to arrive, slickening the streets and sidewalks with ice.

You smile to hide that you wished you didn’t need a ride from Jared. You know it’s not gonna make things easier to deal with at home.

Part of you thinks David is acting ridiculously like a child that's too selfish to share a toy. Only you’re not a toy. You’re a human being and you’re his fiancée. You’re supposed to be getting married.

The other part of you wonders how you would feel if it were the other way around. If he had a new partner on the job and spent hours with her. With everything Jared does for you, would you be ok with someone else treating David the same way?

Trying to settle the internal dispute, you remember that it’s your intentions that really counts. You’re not breaking his trust because you have no intention of getting with Jared. You’re friends and that’s all there is. And you would want David to have a good friend too in your situation.

You walk out together, gabbling on about the day as you climb into his car.

As Jared turns onto your street, you’re laughing over an amusing situation you’d survived in your first week at the company with an unsatisfied client. Jared had had his first unpleasant interaction with a frustrated client. Although he handled it pretty well, he was still a bit disappointed about it.

Grateful the rain has let up, you notice Dave’s car parked in the driveway. Why didn’t he at least text you back if he was home? You feel a slight pang in your chest, but you shove it down as you continue your conversation. Jared knows your line of though has been thrown off and he can only guess it has to do with the black Crown Victoria perched in front of the garage.

“It can happen to anyone,” you say looking up at the tall brown-haired co-worker as he turns the car off, parking in front of your house. You hear a door close from outside and keys jingling, but you don’t think much of it. Most of your neighbors get home at this time as well.

“You can’t please everybody and you have to accept that,” you resume looking down at the dashboard. “You’re not here to please, you’re here to do your job.”

“You’re an amazing person, you know that?”

Something is different about the way Jared is looking at you. It’s intense and you don’t like it.

He leans over the arm rest/storage compartment separating the front seats and places a surprising kiss on your cheek.

You quick react by pulling yourself back and gently push him away with a hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa, Jared. That’s sweet, but i-it’s not like that. We’re just friends. You realize that, right?” you ask frowning at him. “I’m happily engaged.”

“Y-yeah... I figured. I thought I-I’d shoot my shot. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looks down embarrassed as his cheeks blush a bright regretful shade of red. “I misread things. I’m sorry. That’s on me. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just… Don’t do that again, alright?”

“Yeah. Definitely will not” he chuckles nervously. “It won’t happen again. I promise. Just like you said, we’re only friends.”

You’re not really sure how to react. You can tell he feels really awkward about the whole thing, but you just want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Flashing a shy, nervous smile at him, you thank him for the ride and climb out of the car. You slowly walk up the concrete path, digging through you bag for your keys.

Upon finding them, you look up and freeze.

David is standing in the path, glaring at the young man in the car. As he keeps his furious gaze locked on Jared, his hands move to rest on his hip. Pushing back his black winter jacket, his gold badge and his standard issue gun are exposed to remind Jared of who he is.

You don’t realize it’s a non-verbal threat. You just think he’s pissed judging by the constant hard blinking of his eyes.

“David, it’s not what you th-“ you start only to be cut off.

“In the house. Right now.”

He has a point. This isn’t a topic to discuss outside for all your neighbors to hear.

You walk quietly past him and march up the porch. You leave the door open for him, but he’s not far behind you. Only a couple moments since he’d been staring Jared down until he finally drove away.

The door slams as he enters the house.

“Are you fucking serious? There’s nothing going on, right?” He asks loudly and angrily.

“Yes, there’s nothing going on, Dave.” You say trying to stay calm, unwilling to match his tone. You’d be angry too in his place.

“You expect me to believe that after what I just saw?!”

“Yes, because that’s the truth. I know how that looked like. He thought I was sending him signs of interest. I won’t lie about that. But I didn’t want him to do that. There is absolutely no interest on my behalf!”

“The fucking chicken hawk just kissed you!”

“I didn’t want him to! I told him that! Maybe if you had picked me up from work or at least fucking texted me back, I wouldn’t have gotten in that fucking car in the first place!” you seethe at him.

“Oh, so this is my fault??” he snaps back at you bewildered.

He opens his mouth to speak, but just in that same moment, his cell phone rings. A hushed ‘fuck’ escapes from his lips as he answers the call. You just roll your eyes and fold your arm across your chest because you already know what that means.

The conversation is quick. You can’t tell much; all you know is that Captain O’Malley is calling him into the station.

“We’re not done on this”, he says with a raised finger in your direction and opens the door behind him.

The door slams shut. You close your eyes and lean against the wall, wishing you had never gotten in that car.

Dragging your tired body up the stairs, you make your way to your room. You notice the comforter is rumpled on David’s side along with his pillows. It’s not as you had it in the morning; it was neat and made to look inviting. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. Now you know why he didn’t answer you at first; he had fallen asleep.

You set your bag atop of the dresser that you share. You dig out your phone to set it to charge. There’re a couple unread messages and 2 missed calls; all from David and right around the time you’d left work.

Sorry, babe. Fell asleep and just woke up.

On my way right now!

You feel guilty thinking about how you could’ve avoided the whole ordeal. Now, David is mad at you and you’re mad at him for thinking that you wanted Jared to kiss you.

You head into the ensuite bathroom to shower and let the water wash away the stress of your day. As the warm water pours over you, you just hope this isn’t what ends your relationship.

Once you’re cleaned and a bit more relaxed, you go about the house to start on some of the chores. Deciding on a simple, quick and easy dinner, you sit on the couch to eat by yourself.

It’s been hours since David’s left and you miss him. You just want him to come home, so you can tell him how much you miss and love him.

You look down at your phone. He read your “I’m sorry” text, but he hasn’t replied. You wonder if it’s because he’s busy or he just doesn’t want to talk to you.

Wanting to stay up and wait for him, you start on the dirty dishes and pots in the kitchen. Then the laundry. You can’t stay still. It bothers you too much and you have to stay awake. There’s nothing left to do around the house, so you plot back down on the couch and surf through the channels to try to find something to watch.

It’s around midnight when you hear his car pull into the driveway. You race to the window to look out and make sure it’s him. He looks tired as he approaches the house with his keys in hand. His shoulders are hunched from the weight of the day’s stress.

You stand by the window and watch as he drags himself inside. He closes the door and hangs up his jacket before kicking his boots off. His back is turned to you and he hasn’t seen you yet.

When he does, he gazes at you for a moment. He’s too tired to argue, but he loves the fact that you’re wearing his sweater.

“You hungry? I made dinner. I can make you a plate,” you say softly breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

It’s quiet between you both. It’s a moment of cease fire. The elephant is still in the room, but you know how his weighs heavily on him. Especially with the case he’s working on. You don’t know much about it. David likes to keep that away from you. All you know is what you heard on the news and that there are kids involved. Those types of cases hit too close to home for him.

You leave him to eat in peace and tell him that you’re heading up to bed.

Assuming he’ll sleep on the couch since he must be upset still, you head to the bathroom to have a final tinkle before bed and brush your teeth. You crawl into bed and hug your pillow as you stare at the wall, luminated only by the fluorescent orange light of the street lamps.

Tears prick your eyes. You hate this distance between you and him. It’s ridiculous, but you know it’s not the time for it.

You hear David’s footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. The door creaks as he walks into the bedroom.

He goes about his usual routine; set his ring and chain on top of the dresser along with his badge. Then he walks over to the nightstand to open the drawer there. He pulls his gun from it's holster and makes sure its' safety is on. He had set it before already, but it never hurt to double check.

Soon after setting the gun in the lockbox within the drawer, he quietly makes his way to the bathroom. He opens the squeaky faucet and water pours from the shower.

He doesn’t take long. It’s a quick shower to wash his hair and body. He’s too tired to do more than he has to.

You hear him come into the room to grab a pair of boxers from his drawers. He seems quiet and still. Though your back is turned to him, you feel his eyes on you.

He stands still, hands on the wooden dresser as he mentally contemplates what to do. He knows it wasn’t your fault. He knows it wasn’t you who kissed Jared. He saw you pull away and push him back. He knows you didn’t like it or expect it just as much as him.

His head drops and his eyes close. In truth, the time at work had kept him too busy to think about it much, but he did think about you. Part of him felt you were like a victim, caught up in the crime with no fault. The other part of him wondered what could have happened to influence Jared to kiss you.

With a heavy sigh, you sense his footsteps approaching the bed. You expect to feel the wool blanket at the foot of the bed slide off along with his pillow.

To your surprise, you feel the comforter lifts behind you allowing a cool breeze to creep onto your back. Your heart beats faster. The mattress dips with his heavy frame. And you feel an arm drape over your waist.

“You awake?” His voice is a whisper in the dark.

You reply with a nod. You don’t want him to see you’re crying, though you know it’s inevitable.

“Can we talk?”

You quickly wipe your eyes in an attempt to omit the evidence of your pain. Turning onto your other side, you’re face to face. His hand doesn’t leave your waist. You let him slide underneath your shirt to feel your warmth.

“I don’t wanna fight. I don’t wanna argue,” he starts.

“Neither do I, Dave.” Your voice is soft as you reach to tenderly hold his bicep. You want to pull him close and hold him forever, but that might be too much.

“Are you really happy being with me?”

Your heart breaks to think that he feels like you might not be happy with him. You open your mouth to answer him, desperate to chase away his fear, but he continues.

“I know I’m not the best partner. I know for sure I haven’t been in the past. In some relationships, I didn’t even try to be. But I’m trying, sweetheart. I’m trying real hard because I love you and I want to be with you. I don’t know if it’s enou-“

You can’t listen to him anymore.

“Listen to me, Dave. I love you. You are more than enough for me and you make me the happiest in the world. And that’s enough for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You sure about that?” he asks with pleading eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Jared is just a dude I felt bad for at work. I was just trying to be a friend, that’s all. But he misread my intentions. That’s it, that’s all that happened. And I’m gonna distance myself from him because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

David feels relieved to hear your solution. He didn’t want risk sounding like a possessive jerk and ask you to not talk to Jared anymore, but he likes that you’re willing to make that change willingly for the sake of your relationship.

After all, he can’t be surprised someone else would want to have you. The minute he met you, he wanted you for himself as well. He’s just lucky he got to have his chance before anyone did.

He smiles tiredly at you and closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Think you can forgive me for being a dick earlier? I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“I don’t know. You might just have to make it up to me” you tease with a playful smirk, getting a low chuckle out of him.

“Whatever you want. Just name it.”

#david loki #david loki imagine #david loki prisoners #detective david loki #david loki x reader #david loki x y/n #david loki x you #prisoners #jake gyllenhaal

342 notes · View notes

avonne-writes · 2 months ago

Note

for the otp ask game 👀👀👀

10 - if your otp had met at a different point in time/their lives, what would change? would they still end up together?

i think this is sooo interesing like what if they met in college or even long after college???

Thank you for the ask! 🩷 Since my answer got super long, I’ll only talk about the first scenario here, but we can discuss the "long after college" one too if you guys are interested.

Most likely, Gale wouldn’t have survived Broken Things but let's headcanon something more positive.

If they met in college...

Since they weren’t there for each other's high school years, Bucky was a bit of a womanizer throughout high school, while Gale was more withdrawn, very quiet and hardened by the abuse he experienced without much support. Gale never had mental health care because his parents' insurance didn’t cover it and he had no other means to get it. Therefore, he missed out on a lot of positive experiences that he’ll go through during college instead.

Bucky has a lot of dating and sexual experience, been through heartbreak and one-night stands, and plans to continue in college. He has explored his bisexuality to some degree too. He’s a bit wary of deep relationships because he gets hurt easily. He’s very attached to his mom and still longs for the memory of his dad. He’s a party animal.

Gale has never had a relationship before - high school was all about surviving to him. He wants to open up to the world, finally live and find things he enjoys. Tries out a lot of new sports and other activities and feels really happy about having friends. He wants to lose his virginity and doesn’t care if it’s through a one-night stand (although he secretly longs for something romantic).

He and Bucky meet at a party and go to Gale's dorm right after to hook up, but despite his drunkenness, Bucky notices how inexperienced Gale is and confronts him about it. When Gale admits to it, Bucky pulls back. With the mood ruined, Gale thinks Bucky will leave, but he doesn’t. At this point, Bucky's happy if he receives physical contact, doesn’t want to spend the night alone. Like some big, docile dog, he lies down cuddling Gale and makes out sloppily with him until they fall asleep.

In the morning, Gale is super embarrassed and is in a dark spiral even though he loved cuddling through the night (was starving for it actually). He’s aloof with Bucky and doesn’t know how to act around him. Bucky's charmed and intrigued by the awkward behaviour, especially because Gale does agree to eat breakfast with him and doesn’t tell him to fuck off.

It doesn't take long before they end up dating. Gale starts trusting Bucky and enjoys that Bucky’s so happy go lucky. But hoo boy, they’re not prepared for each other's darker side...

When Bucky realizes that he has fallen in love, his previous act of just having fun in the relationship falls apart completely. He gets really obsessed, anxious and overbearing suddenly. Gale is taken aback and doesn’t know what triggered the behaviour, but he pushes back viciously. They have a few fights, but it's not prolonged like in [HS AU canon] because this is not about changing established boundaries, it’s about establishing them for the first time. During the last big fight they have about this, Gale confesses some things about his past, and that cools things down quickly.

When they make up after that fight, Bucky tells Gale that he loves him, and Gale struggles a bit but manages to say it back. Bucky takes him home to introduce him to Georgia not long after.

In their later life, I think they would go through more periods with mental health issues than [HS AU canon]. Gale would get along with Georgia but wouldn’t be close to her. He wouldn’t go to Switzerland, and he and Bucky would get married much later. They wouldn’t have the fight about kids at 30 because Bucky wouldn’t try to keep his change of mind quite as long from Gale, and that would make it easier to reconcile. They would rely slightly less on each other, and would be able to imagine life without the other but they don’t want to, of course. 🩷

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #anon #hs au #otp ask game

38 notes · View notes

pepprs · 5 days ago

Text

hi, everyone. i hope you all are doing well. i’ve been meaning and wanting to check in here for many months but i have also been too afraid to. but i want to do it now because im potentially at a turning point and i want you all (especially close friends and mutuals who i haven’t talked to in a long time) to know what’s going on because unfortunately i do not have the strength to reach out individually right now, as much as i desperately want to.

when i left this place a year ago my depression was extremely bad. i didn’t know how long i was going to be gone or whether i was leaving for good, but i knew i needed to make some changes in my life before i could be here healthily again. well… 2024 has been a year of IMMENSE change for me! a lot of it has been for the good. i made some progress in my life by moving out, and i’ve had a lot of joy and healing in (very slowly) building a home for myself and figuring out what kind of life i want to live and how i want to live it. (im learning how to drive! i have string lights and stuffed animals and a wii! i am capable of solo travel!)

but… a lot of the changes that have happened this year have been for the worse. in almost every respect 2024 has been one of the most difficult and painful years of my life (and that is saying something!). this year a couple of traumatic things have happened to me and around me, and it has been extremely hard to live my life despite and beyond them. i have been dealing with physical and mental health issues that have greatly impacted my quality of life and make it unbearably difficult for me to get through every day. i am constantly running on negative spoons. one of the most damaging outcomes of this is that i have almost completely withdrawn from society both online and off and that is not an exaggeration. ive stopped talking to all of my friends and family except for people i see every day at work. i impulsively isolate myself when im in pain / distress despite knowing both emotionally and logically that it makes literally everything worse and i don’t know how to (and often can’t muster the mental strength to) work through the shame and grief and anxiety to seek connection and support. and im struggling to take care of myself including physically and its having severe consequences in every aspect of my life and in the lives of people who care about me. i live alone and i still think that was the good and right choice for me to make, but i am profoundly and agonizingly lonely. my depression was extremely bad when i left here, but i think despite everything it might be even worse now.

all of this is to say: this week i finally decided i can’t suffer like this anymore, and i began the process of seeking a formal diagnosis for my depression and other mental health issues and exploring additional treatment beyond talk therapy (most likely meds but there may be other things too / instead; still at the very beginning stages of figuring it all out). i am extremely anxious about many dimensions of this but also hopeful that it will help me hurt less because when i tell you at this point my brain and heart physically ache from depression like 85% of every day…. lol. im really hoping that once i get my mental / emotional pain under control i’ll be able to start tending to the parts of my life that have withered while ive suffered and repair the damage of my neglect as best i can. (which is to say… if you’re my friend and you’re reading this please know i love you and i miss you terribly and i am so sorry we haven’t spoken and i am so sorry im telling you this in a tumblr post you may not even read instead of a reply or a call back. i still love you and i want you to know it is not you specifically i am ghosting, its everyone. i am trying to build the strength and im scared i can’t but i hope i can.)

that said… i have decided i am not going to be coming back to this blog. i miss this place and the community i felt connected to here, but the way i was using this website as a public diary was extremely unhealthy, and as much as i miss it and still crave the instant comfort/validation i see clearly now with months of distance how damaging it was. (i truly cannot believe i was oversharing like that lol i am so private now (yes due largely to mental illness but still!)) i am so grateful to everyone who reassured me when i was struggling and celebrated my successes. this was the first place, online or off, where i (misguidedly but it’s true!) could actually be honest and candid about things happening in my life and my reactions to them instead of communicating it all through metaphors in my art and poetry, and it truly mattered that i had that experience here so that i could seek out more spaces like it in my offline life. i know i already said thank you in a previous update but really… thank you. 💗🫂

im not planning on deleting this blog. i may come back here and share updates like this one from time to time, but otherwise i will leave it as it is. but… i do want to get back to using a few of my fandom-centered sideblogs because looking at and compiling art of things i like is a low-energy thing that makes me happy! so you may see activity there every once in a while (tbh during this hiatus i have opened tumblr from time to time to look at art and save a bunch of posts that i wanted to reblog eventually lol). but… if i notice myself slipping back into bad habits i may private the sideblogs or abandon them completely.

i don’t know how to end this post. actually wait yes i do. one of my all time favorite artists is anna-laura sullivan (@/annalaura_art on instagram) and this is one of my all time favorite drawings of hers (so much so that i made it my lock screen so i can look at it every day!). this saying has brought me a lot of comfort and i hope it (and her other art) will bring you comfort too if you’re also in a dark place.

one more thing: not to be kind of a freak but in writing this post i discovered a longer version of my goodbye post from last year in my drafts. i don’t remember why i didn’t post it and obviously it’s outdated now but i want to share the draft because i went into more detail about tumblr having been helpful for me specifically when it comes to my mutuals + info / disclaimers about how to reach me and i want you guys to hear that in my past self’s voice lol! i put it under the cut if you want to read it!

2023 tess said it best: i hope you know how much it’s meant to me to be in your company. thank you for sharing and thank you for listening. i love you. happy [almost] new year. be well. good luck. shine bright. until we meet again ☕️🐈🫂💗

#purrs

43 notes · View notes

meddwlyngymraeg · 3 months ago

Note

helo! dwi'n dysgu cymraeg a dwi isio gwrando ar fwy o bandiau sy'n canu yn gymraeg. oes gen ti hoff bandiau neu albymau? dwi'n licio yws gwynedd a gwilym yn fawr ond dwi ddim yn siwr os mae 'na bandiau eraill fel nhw, felly mae steiliau gwahanol yn iawn hefyd. diolch yn fawr!

Helo! Gobeithio ti’n iawn! 😄 Mae llawer o hoff fandiau gyda fi, mawr a newydd. Mae sîn cerddoriaeth Cymraeg yn wych ar hyn o bryd!

Super Furry Animals yw fy hoff band yn y byd (ces i gyfle i ddwued hyn i’w canwr nhw Gruff Rhys, moment o fy mywyd!) Gwenno yw un mwy o fy ffefrynau! Mae hi’n canu yn Gymraeg a Cernyweg, synthpop musician yw hi, a does dim neb yn gwneud miwsig fel hi nawr! Os ces i roi dim ond un rec i bobl, mae’n Datblygu. Genre-wise mae nhw’n post punk, ond oedd y llais, geiriau a sylwebaeth David R Edwards a cerddoriaeth Patricia Morgan yn singular. Does dim neb yn debyg iddyn nhw!

I do have a few recommendations for you os ti’n hoffi Gwilym ac Yws Gwynedd!

If you like Gwylim I think you’ll also enjoy Fleur de Lys, they’re an indie rock band from North Wales in the mid-2010s. They’ve just released a new single called Gad Ni Fod that reminds me a little of Gwilym! You might also like Sŵnami, though they’re a bit more of a pop band. I like their song Gwenwyn. If you’re into heavier music though, there’s another song called Gwenwyn by a band called Alffa. They’re just two lads but they make a ginormous sound, and they’re all-independent and also amongst the most lovely people I’ve spent 3 hours with, so check them out! Gwenwyn also became the first Welsh language song on Spotify to cross a million streams, which is a great achievement. My favourite song of theirs is Babi Mam, a song on men’s mental health, and crucially the lyrics are also available online.

Another rec bouncing off of Gwylim would be Ynys from Aberystwyth. They make harmonic pop/psychedelic rock, I can’t recommend them enough! They’re a newer band, but they’re formed by Dylan Hughes, who used to be in a lovely 2010s indie band called Race Horses (another Cymraeg fav of mine tbh), and some of that band play with him in Ynys too. Helpfully, Dylan is also particular about making sure all his lyrics are available, which is great as a learner! It’s in the lyric booklets but also on their Bandcamp.

You should also definitely check out Adwaith, who are one of the best new bands in Wales! They’re from Carmarthen, so you’ll also hear in their lyrics that they use bits of South Walian Welsh, and the thing I admire about them is they’re learners too. They said they deliberately try and write their lyrics to be true to how they really speak, and so it’s meant to be less formal and more casual. They’re also one of the voices singing about life as girls growing up in Welsh-speaking Wales, and they’re the only musicians ever to win the Welsh music prize twice! Icons. There’s a spinoff band 2/3 of them started in lockdown called Tacsidermi, and if you like Gwilym’s song Cwin you’ll love their song Ble Pierre.

Like Yws Gwynedd - there’s a Candelas song called Brenin Calonnau you’ll like. HMS Morris are another really good band, try their song Ceredigion. Chroma wrote a fantastic album called Asking For Angela this year. Check out Sai’n Moyn Mynd Mas! They released this song in English and in Welsh.

I’ll give you a few more alternative and rock bands I really like, I’ll put them in a playlist for you! It’ll have some Welsh language music from rock bands like Super Furry Animals and Gruff Rhys solo, Datblygu, Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, big leaves, Y Reu (and their guitarist Lloyd Steele’s work, who wrote some fantastic tunes in lockdown reflecting on identity — specifically about being a mixed race gay man in Welsh speaking Wales), Ysgol Sul, Hyll.

There’s a Gorky’s song that’s not on Spotify that I love, so I’ll give you a YouTube link. It’s an older song though, written before violinist Megan Childs joined the band - Merched Yn Neud Gwallt Eu Gilydd, from the Introducing Gorky’s CD.

youtube

Dyma rhestr-chwarae i chi:

#Gofynnau #asks!#welsh #cymraeg #cerddoriaeth gymraeg #welsh music #Sorry this took ages! I wanted to think properly about this 😅#If you like any of these bands I’m happy to help you find more! I just didn’t want the post to get ginormous #Music #Wales

48 notes · View notes

twoa-plus · 2 months ago

Text

dissecting stanford pines and finding organs that don’t exist but like in a metaphorical way

that’s it that’s the title i’m going with. this is a long one folks o7

most of this isn’t sourced or canon at all it’s just personal interpretation/headcanon/whatever else u wanna call it, but!! since more people are seeing my deranged gravity falls ramblings now i figure i should probably give some perspective as to why i like/defend ford as much as i do

(in my other gf posts i do try to stick to canon to back up whatever point i’m making - this is just about my personal opinion of ford as a character, and should be able to be thrown out in regards to my other posts)

so for some background/setup/whatever (it’s important i promise bear with me), different people have different instinctual responses to anxiety/stress. i come from a family (genetics are fun) where the default response is to start (metaphorically ofc) biting and hissing like a cornered animal. this doesn’t necessarily mean there’s any actual hatred or malice or anything towards the people that end up getting scratched - they might just be at the wrong place at the wrong time, they might’ve done something super minor and insignificant that added on to a preexisting pile of stress, etc etc

i cannot stress enough that i am not saying this is ok. you dont need me to tell you that hurting people who don’t deserve it is a bad thing, lol. what i am saying though is that sometimes people can kind of suck for reasons other than just genuinely wanting everyone around them to be miserable

this is the last “background” part i swear BUT another thing thats less genetic and more just me being weird is that i’m the type of person where like. any minor environmental change can really stress me out lol. like even just reorganizing my desk can be pretty emotionally taxing

SO. finally back on topic. stanford pines. i see a lot of the behavior/patterns i just described in him. like i’ve spent my entire life around people like this, and while i understand why a lot of people see him as just some asshole, i can’t help but see him as a guy who’s just kinda going through it lol

just talking about the more recent events as of the series, he’s just spent 30 years god knows where doing and seeing god knows what, he has an abusive ex who wants to murder him and his entire family (plus the whole dimension, really), and in the three decades he’s been gone the entire world - including his own house - has changed and left him behind. add onto that that he went missing in 1982, way before we had all of the emotional/mental health resources we have now, we all saw what the stans’ childhood was like, and that ford is terrible with people - including, imo, himself. if there’s anybody out there who would have Feelings and not understand what they are or where they’re coming from or what to do about them, it’s this guy

this entire setup is the perfect circumstance for fear and anxiety and stress and uncertainty to all get translated into anger. a really big example of this, to me, is how he talks about dipper in journal 3. i’ve talked about this before somewhere so i’ll try to summarize as fast as i can lol

reading his initial entry about dipper would make u think he like. hates this kid lol. but i really don’t think he ever did - he was really excited to meet the kids in the show and already seemed to care about them just by virtue of existing, and his opinion on dipper in journal 3 seems to do a complete 180 pretty quickly which ,,, doesn’t really fit ford as a character. like i love the man but that guy can hold a GRUDGE

here’s how it reads to me:

ford gets back to his home dimension after 30 years and everything is different

he’s subconsciously kind of struggling with the fact that he doesn’t really have a “home” anymore - the sense of familiarity and comfort that would normally come with the word is gone. (i specify that it’s subconscious because, like i said earlier, i do not get the vibe that he’s particularly aware of his own emotions)

he finds out that journal 3 - something he made with his own two hands and considers part of his life’s work - has also changed in the decades he’s been gone. this adds to the feeling of unfamiliarity with the world around him

it’s easier to blame that “final straw” and say that he’s just upset about his work being tampered with rather than address the actual root of the problem, so that’s exactly what he does. this still doesn’t mean that there’s any genuine hatred towards dipper. anger in the moment, yeah, but not hatred

again, this is entirely personal interpretation, and i completely understand if u don’t see it like this!! this is just a pattern of thoughts/behavior that i’m very familiar with, so it’s easy for me to apply it to situations like this even if it’s not really part of the canon

i also think there’s a big problem in this fandom with just ,, not seeing ford as a Person with Emotions? idk how to explain it but it feels like people expect him to always know exactly what to do in every situation just bc he’s old and academically smart. like whenever another character does something objectively bad it’s “well there were extenuating circumstances,” (which is usually true and i agree !!) but ford never really seems to get that treatment. if he does something bad it’s just because he sucks

a big example of this i think is the fight between him and stan (y’know the “you ruined my life”/“you ruined your own life”). you cannot look me dead in the eyes and, in full seriousness, with the context of everything ford was going through with bill at the time, say that he was fully mentally/emotionally stable during that conversation. “oh so you’re blaming stan-“ NO!!! stan was also going through it!!! that’s the entire point - they’re both people with their own lives and emotions and everything else that comes with that, they had very human reactions to their respective situations, and they both ended up hurt!! hopefully i’m explaining this right but i just don’t like it when people pin everything on ford, like there was a lot going on and at the end of the day he’s just a human

wasn’t really sure how to work this in so i’ll just put it here - i don’t think ford ever truly hated stan, either. familial bonds are complicated, and there can be a whole lot of anger towards someone without true hatred being present. i briefly mentioned the stans’ childhood sucking earlier, and i don’t just mean stanley - it’s easier to pinpoint him as a victim of abuse/neglect, but that doesn’t mean ford had it great either. their parents (specifically filbrick, but caryn didn’t exactly do a fantastic job with them either) expected nothing of stan and the world of ford, both of which would weigh heavily on any child. plus, ford being the favorite doesn’t mean all of his emotional needs were met - filbrick seeing him as an opportunity to make money doesn’t mean he was suddenly an emotionally present and caring father towards him. WCT wasn’t just an opportunity for ford to go be a famous scientist or whatever - it was a chance for his father to love him, something both of the stans desperately wanted. (WCT was also on the opposite side of the country from where they lived but i’m sure that’s completely unrelated !!!)

do i think stan deserved anything that happened to him after the science fair incident? no, absolutely not, he was a child. do i think it was right of ford to just stand there as his brother got thrown out? no, absolutely not - but he was a child too. as for them not speaking for a decade after that, like i mentioned earlier ford can hold a grudge like no other. (this doesn’t just apply to stan, either, ford dedicated half of his life to trying to kill his ex lmao.) i think ford’s ability to hold on to anger like that is actually a pretty major part of/flaw in his personality, but again, anger - even the strongest, most long-lived of it - is not synonymous with hatred. stan, who ford has always gone to for help when he truly needed it, it not what ford’s hatred looks like. bill, who ford actively wants to die, is

anyways!! i never know how to close these things lol. ig in summary i just see ford’s behavior (in the show at least) as more of a sign of internal struggle rather than like ,, genuinely hating the people around him and wanting their lives to suck. did/does he have an ego problem? absolutely. is he incapable of love and human connection? no. is he immune to manipulation/abuse/neglect/etc and everything that comes with that? also no

he’s an interdimensional criminal why can’t he go to the theraprism. i think he should

#also if u look at the WCT incident and him being mad at dipper for writing in the journal as parallel situations #i think it actually does show changes/development in ford as a person #sure WCT would’ve like changed the trajectory of his life or whatever and the journal was ultimately Not That Serious #but the fact that he was so quick to let go of that anger - something he’s never really been shown to do in the past -#does make it seem like he’s changed in the last 30 years #like i see a lot of people say he hasn’t grown at all since (insert pre-series time period)#but i don’t think that’s true. like u can’t tell me 30-smth year old ford would be chilling in his basement with a 12 year old playing dd&md #like he HAS mellowed out with age. he’s also just weird and has a naturally kind of intense personality #anyways normal tag time my brain is melting i’ve been writing for so long lmao #gravity falls #stanford pines #ford pines #stanford gravity falls #ford gravity falls #gravity falls ford #gravity falls stanford #twoa.txt

26 notes · View notes

cal-daisies-and-briars · 9 days ago

Note

🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🧜🏼🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

YEAH ANNIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Two fics for you!!! Plus an ocean photo to set the vibes:

57 for 🧜🏼:

---

So Eddie has gotten pretty good at hiding it. Why would this guy fucking know?

Eddie tries to dismiss his concern as paranoia. He’s gotten a lot less paranoid in the past five years or so. Back after his body got back to where he was comfortable with it. But that fear, he thinks, will never entirely be gone. He can acknowledge that that’s a him problem. Not necessarily a damning statement about his new coworker Buck. So he doesn’t give the concern any fuel in his brain. Buck doesn’t know about him. Even if the old trauma in his brain says that’s the only reason he’s so brooding and unhappy with Eddie’s presence.

“So, a medal of valor, huh?” His new coworker, Chimney, asks on the way to their first call.

Eddie shifts uncomfortably - he didn’t really want to talk about this.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “Back in El Paso.”

“What did you do?” Chimney presses.

“Same stuff you guys do every day,” Eddie shrugs. “Just saved someone.”

Really, not a story he wants to get into.

Buck rolls his eyes at this response. Fuck him?

“Who?” Chimney asks. “From what?”

“My former captain and another firefighter on our team,” Eddie says. He took a piece of shrapnel to the leg doing it, too. Not that that’s why he doesn’t want to discuss it.

“Eddie,” Hen pipes in, clearly sensing his desire to change the subject. “Uh, have you heard about the hot firefighter calendar?”

Buck shoots Hen a sour little glare. What is his problem?

“Sorry, the what?” Eddie asks.

“It’s for charity!” Hen grins. Captain Nash erupts with laughter. Eddie feels a little in the dark.

“So, is your full name Eduardo?” Buck jumps in.

Eddie tenses. His brain swaps back to that paranoid place. Does he know? Is he trying to figure out Eddie’s deadname? In front of everyone? What the fuck?

“No,” he responds. “Just Eddie.”

“People ever call you Diaz?” Buck continues.

Wait… Okay. Not the direction he was thinking.

“Not if they want me to respond,” Eddie says.

Chimney and Hen exchange an amused glance. Eddie doesn’t understand what about any of this is funny.

---

57 for 🌲:

---

Whatever. Buck will take care of him. He’s going to help him figure this out. Because if he doesn’t, how can they fix the Christopher shit? And they have to fix that, too.

Enough is enough.

iii.

Over the next two days, nothing much happens. At least, nothing big and catastrophic like growing a tail or making leaves and wind appear in your bedroom. For that, at least, Eddie is relieved. He doesn’t think he can handle things getting worse.

Eddie manages to convince the free telehealth psychologist provided to first responders of Los Angeles that he is suffering from a strange combination of burnout and depression. It’s actually absurdly easy to do. He doesn’t even really have to try. She just sort of… Believes everything he says? Replies with affirmatives. Tells him he is so justified in his feelings. Agrees to put him on indefinite mental health leave without many follow up questions.

“Just tell me when you’re ready to come back and I’ll sign off on that too,” she assures him.

It’s sort of freaky, actually, how easy that was.

So they’re both out of work for the foreseeable future. They get some questions about it on the next day they’re supposed to work. Chim and Hen accuse them of leaving them with Gerrard. Chim is especially annoyed, considering that Buck’s leaving now that Buck isn’t Gerrard’s target. Buck is able to take the heat off by explaining his actual situation. Though Eddie sees the discomfort in his expression as he sends the text. Eddie thinks Maddie is more than likely going to show up inquiring about his well being, and Eddie will just have to hide. Eddie does what Buck says when it comes to him to offer an explanation. Sends out a sad, sort of pathetic message, about everything that’s happened lately really getting to him. He doesn’t feel fit to work. The worst part? It doesn’t feel like a lie. The ears and tail and teeth are just… Part of it.

“Do you think they actually buy it?” Eddie asks anyway. “Or do they think the timing is suspicious?”

Buck sighs. “I don’t know. I can send them updates after my next appointment to sell it more.”

Eddie nods. “I feel bad.”

Buck’s mouth twitches. “Me too, a little. But… We have to figure this out, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles. “We do.”

Figuring it out isn’t easy though. Any searches related to spontaneous foxtail growth only yields results about cannabis. Eddie wishes this was all a drug induced shared hallucination. He doesn’t think weed is that strong. Maybe he could use some anyway.

Likewise, any of their searches about leaves and wind are sort of fruitless. There are some certifiably crazy Reddit posts. Some hokey online guides for manifesting spirits.

#daisies and briars writes #take what the water gave me fic #firelight fic

19 notes · View notes

ournachojesus · 4 months ago

Text

Hello, this is a Death Note time loop AU. Light and L are stuck in a loop, it starts with Light’s death in the manga. They are the only ones that remember the loops. After the loops start instead of it ending after both of them are dead it only requires one of them to die to reset. What I talk about at some points will be pretty dark (murder, torture, abuse, etc). Not all in this post (does include some of that already) but this AU in general. Since it will involve a lot on how their mental health declines and along with their already… morally interesting self’s I explore how they behave. This is my warning and I’ll make a warning for each post for this.)

Light and L are stuck in a limbo in terms of the Kira case. If either dies they both reset. It's a spiral of them both sometimes playing the game they did but on a much higher level on some cycles or on sight beating the shit out of eachother. First time and second time is obviously different, third to tenth time they work together, after twenty times it breaks down into the spiral. Once they hit loop fifty is when they finally show more obvious signs of breaking. Light is unavoidably killed by Ryku and L is just doomed by the actions of those around them. The death bells ring for both of them but after Light dies and the first reset happens, they no longer have to wait for the other. No loneliness in being the one alive or the one dead. Locked even further into this relationship of only being able to understand eachother. They are smart but not emotionally so (manipulation isn't the same as emotional intimacy or empathy), the resets make things far worse.

Some resets further down the line L just straight up kidnaps Light (before Kira suspects are even chosen) and keeps him till the death bells ring. Like, this would be one of the more psychologically more dangerous situations during the cycles. Along with Light's 'puppeteering phase' where he keeps using the death note on many loops to make L do things against his will then killing him. Both involve torture of taking the free will and autonomy of the other. Something the really messes with both of them since they crave to be atop things. To be able to understand and move the situation in their favor. In both incidents it’s at a time when both individually have breaking points. Since the other is basically burned out to the extreme due to cycles they can’t even use logic to figure out the why when these things happen. Other people? Sure, easy as pie. Eachother? Nope. Can’t get a read. That similar thought process thing they have has no way of happening when it comes to trying and understanding their own feelings.

They are both immoral and shattered characters. They weren't broken in the begging, just already in many pieces and no one took the proper time with either of them to actually make either of them have some emotionally healthy habits. Born with the need for a little more help and no one helped them. Intelligent children are just assumed to be more mature than their age. Regular children are unfairly expected to understand norms and the world when they’re just basically learning from scratch from everything around them, how do you think adults treat intelligent kids then? Pushing them harder, supporting them less. Light and L I don’t expect to act like everyone else, what I’m saying is that they lack empathy for other people a lot of the time because they weren’t given enough attention when being taught that. Kindness is something they think their both don’t, L with his work and Light with being ‘God’. The perception of kindness is warped. Sorry about that rant, back to the AU.

So, ya. It’s a burning pit of corpses in terms of how it goes down. I can go into more detail on the two incidents but I’d do it on another post if people wanted that.

Misa finds out basically everytime, like more people notice depending on how careless both of the boys are in that loop but Misa just figures it out each time. Rem helps with some of those times but it’s majority of Misa doing the heavy lifting. Why? Misa isn’t dumb and she has great luck. Luck and her general genius she already had when it came to interacting with people. Misa is a lost soul who depends her happiness on other people, I don’t know how she got this unfortunate codependency need from (probably some trauma). Anyway, she wants to help them but…

Light is mad, eventually L is to. It’s a lot of frustration of Misa not being apart of their loops but constantly finding out and doing similar things (aka the solutions she proposes or what she does to help. Reminding her becomes a hard task for them both with how things in their minds start to fall apart and her small comforts are numb since at some point they only feel like the only real people). They are trapped in a way where if they keep coming across something that doesn’t help then it just drives them mad. This would probably lead to a couple loops of them doing something horrible (like criminally so) to Misa and either Rem gets their asses or Misa’s good luck manifesting in another way.

Light and L would at some point do something to eachother (this means during the incidents since I left that vague and whatever other things) or other people like Misa. To highly intelligent people with crumbling sanity, shit morals, and highly messed up feelings/relationships? They are going to do things worse than just killing people. Being killed isn’t the worse thing someone can do to you.

About the real people thing, when you are the only ones that can change and grow? It feels like everyone else is an actor or NPC. While things can change for those around them based on their actions, no one remembers and the only reasons these new things happen is because of how the boys act. This wouldn’t seem super bad since you may be thinking I see L and Light as to people that don’t care. No, they do. They just have a hard time with it. It hurts and they don’t understand why. Their families (or people I’d say are close enough with them to be called family) can’t help, will never change with the, and are growing further from them as they start to lose the memories they had before the loops since it’s getting harder to keep everything in check with how long it’s going on for. Their emotional state also affects their memories. At some points they just huddle together, no crying or speaking. Just cuddling.

The longest they live is on the day Light originally dies, but getting L to the point is hard. Cause after the day he originally dies they had a hard time making plans on his survival. In later loops it’s not as bad.

At the end of the loops, what the ending would be? An end to the loops… I have two/three ideas on that but I’d need to see. I want to better organize the events that would happen, their mental health declines, and some other things. Picking an ending now when I’m still trying to figure out how Light becomes not a sexist? I need my details figured out first!!

Hope whoever reads this long AU idea post enjoys it. Posting more is unsure for me.

#l lawliet #light yagami #misa amane #short paragraph for her #death note #time loop au #death loop au #that’s what I’ll call it for now #change may happen #shigami will have more involvement but it’s 4 am and I’m tired

34 notes · View notes

floralcavern · 1 month ago

Text

This toxic friend makes me want to commit a crime

Ok, ok, ok. I need to vent. And I think we can all relate to having a toxic friend that makes us want to rip our hair out, and I think we all also like hearing about people who suck, haha! And, I feel like if I don’t vent in some way, I may combust because my mental health is deteriorating the more I’m around this person.

Ok, so, I have a ‘friend’, who we shall call Megan. Megan… SUCKS.

We met in my freshman year of high school (I’m currently a senior) and she seemed normal enough. We bonded over our love of anime and the fact that we both get bullied.

But, as time has gone on she has gotten to be… an awful person.

Allow me to talk about it in.. segments.

•Messy relationships and avoidable drama

Look, I get it if someone dates a lot. That is none of my fucking business. But when it gets to the point where it affects other people around you poorly, that’s when I have a problem.

So, there was this one girl in our friend group (kinda) who was really sweet. Like, she did do/say some things that could definitely make her a bit frustrating, but she was never a malicious or bad person in any way. I’ll call her Amy. And Amy had a boyfriend we’ll call Bill. I’ll say this right now. Bill also fucking sucks. So, Megan had a crush on Bill, and Bill wanted to be polyamorous, but Amy didn’t. And Megan got absolutely pissed that Amy didn’t want to be in an open relationship, because that meant Megan couldn’t date Bill. And, Megan already didn’t like Amy for some unknown reason, but this just added fuel to the fire. And you wanna know what she did? She slept with Bill. And no one ever told Amy. And not telling Amy still haunts me to this very day, because she deserves to know. But you want to know why I never told Amy? Because I’m fucking scared of Megan. Megan has told me, to my face, “I could ruin all my friends’ lives if I wanted. You don’t know the blackmail I have on all you, haha.” And that scares me. Because what does that mean?! And now I’m just scared to get on her bad side. And I know I’m an awful, selfish person for never telling Amy, and I wish I can just find the courage, but I can’t. And I feel horrible..

And now she does have a boyfriend, who she is very happy with. But it seems she’s just a magnet for drama wherever she goes. This guy doesn’t go to our school, and there’s this one guy who does go to our school who has a crush on Megan. And he would call her and text her all the time. And instead of just ignoring them and try to get this guy to stop flirting with her, she would call him too! Text him back! And she said she was scared her boyfriend would hear rumors or something about her and this guy, and instead of taking our advice of either

A. Ignoring this guy or

B. Telling your boyfriend ahead of time to avoid the drama

She just kept chatting with this guy while keeping her bf in the dark. And eventually, he heard rumors she was cheating on him. And he reacted in a really poor and pretty toxic way, ngl, but in the end, he broke up with her. And she came to school that day miserable. And we tried comforting her and told her “Your boyfriend reacting in a really toxic way, if he comes crawling back, don’t take him back. Take some time for yourself.” And she said “Ok.” … But less than 7 hours after she said that, he came crawling back and she immediately took him back. So what’s the point in us even trying to help her?

•Lack of sympathy

This girl just.. she does not understand how people can have problems that she can’t relate to. One time, me, Megan, and another friend were watching The Breakfast Club because our other friend had never seen it. And, yknow how Allison is heavily neglected and has dandruff and doesn’t know how to properly take care of herself? Well, Megan had no sympathy for her situation, calling Allison “gross” and saying she had “no excuse” for not knowing how to take care of herself by that point. Me and our other friend tried explaining how neglected children who aren’t taught how to take care of themselves grow into adults who still don’t know how to take care of themselves, but she just would not listen.

Another time, she looked at me in the eyes and said, “If a girl gets pregnant, her parents have the right to kick her out.” (So ironic considering how many pregnancy scares she’s had, but I digress..) And when I told her that’s just abusive, she said, “Well, it’s just the consequences of your actions. Also, it’s impossible for someone to be abused by their parents if they’re 18 because you’re a legal adult by then.”

I asked, “What about mentally disabled people?” and she was like, “Oh, well, that’s different.” And I had to tell her about how my mom was abused by her parents and only cut contact with her mother a few years ago, but she just brushed me off. So, that’s great. Victim blaming is so fuuuuuuun… (/s, obviously)

•How she treats me

Ok, so, I’ve already established she’s just not a good person. But, how does she treat me?

NOT GOOD! :D

She is constantly calling me stupid. “In every friend group, there’s the dumb one! Haha!” But the girl thought the civil war happened after WW1 and she doesn’t know when America was discovered. And how can I forget when she thought Chicago was a state and refused to believe me when I told her it was a city. She doesn’t know basic facts, yet I’m the one she constantly calls dumb.

Also, body shaminggggg! I’m flat chested, and you best believe she brings it up a lot. She calls be a “Negative A cup” and even teases me for being flat in front of people she’s friends with, but I’m not. I’m already self conscious about being flat chested, but damnit, constantly being picked on for it just makes it worse. “I bet you wish you had my breasts.” Shut up, shut up, shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup.

And yet she claims to hate people who body shame.

“Ugh, this one girl was body shaming this one girl, which is so dumb because it’s not like she’s super skinny anyways. Like, she needs to loose a few pounds, yknow?” <- an actual thing she’s said to me.

She also makes fun of me for never dating anyone and for being a virgin despite the fact that:

I’m Catholic

I’m extremely self conscious and am not in a good mental state to try and date someone

But, yknow, maybe I shouldn’t take it to heart, seeing as how she did sleep with another girl’s boyfriend.

But I’m so tired of her degrading me and making me feel like shit for no reason. Like, she says stuff like, “I know you’d never do anything to me because you love me,” and I’m like, “Girl, I want to punt you across the football field, but whatever helps you sleep at night..”

There’s so much more I could complain about, but I think I got the venting out. Um.. ya. Holy shit. I can’t do this anymore, guys. If I have to pretend that I like being around her any longer, I am going to snap. I have never been such a bitter person, but she’s only gotten worse this year and I feel like I’m slowly going insane and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m just so excited to get out of high school and try to lose contact with her and forget she even exists, because the last time I knew someone who made me this miserable, at least it wasn’t because she was a bad person. But Megan… she’s just an awful person, and being around her makes me feel like an awful person. I just dread having to be around her every day.

Um.. ya. If you guys read all the way down here.. thanks for hearing me rant. Bye.

#toxic friends #fake friends #toxic friendship #rant #vent #losing my mind #To those of you who have seen Easy A #She’s essentially just that blonde friend :/

25 notes · View notes