#i’m ACTUALLY not going to recover from this

[moviestarmartini]

yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader

él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.

summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?

wc: 975

warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.

A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The fight was stupid, really. 

You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment. 

After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday. 

Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander. 

If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off. 

You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was. 

For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears. 

You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more. 

To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing. 

“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation. 

That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder. 

Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.

And you wondered if you would ever be again. 

The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship. 

Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory. 

[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ] 

[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ] 

You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi. 

“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied. 

He hadn’t even read it. 

Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home. 

You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies. 

Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this. 

Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you. 

“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs. 

“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly. 

“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been. 

“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly. 

“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting. 

“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug. 

“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.” 

Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.

A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip

[cokoweee]

Heavens to Betsy I’ve been meaning to go on this rant forever but I keep forgetting for some reason

Quick disclaimer- I’m not analyzing your comic at all, I just notice little accuracies that make me happy.

~

Ok coming from a psychology major student, your description of PTSD and mental health issues is actually pretty dang good. Idk if it was intentionally researched or not but there’s like a ton of stuff that’s consistent with real life trauma and it’s quite frankly impressive

Again not sure if this was intentional or not but the thing on his back reminds me so much of old school electroshock therapy which I adore bc

A: it causes confusion and memory loss which you’ve shown and

B: kinda implies that maybe he did his own research when deciding how to deal with everything or

C: again is incredibly accurate in the fact that most trauma patients continuously seek pain out, and in turn report feelings of extreme boredom and numbness when not actively experiencing pain or reliving trauma. In his case going borderline catatonic when he’s not freaking out.

On the topic of “freaking out” a lack or decrease in serotonin leads to a more reactive and intense episodes in PTSD. Or, because the little guy is like mega depressed coz of the whole situation, he gets way more intense and violent episodes that someone who was on like Prozac. And would tend to be more on edge and sensitive to triggers.

Then there’s his family. For some background, there’s a part of your brain called the amygdala. It typically works to control basic emotions, but responds very well to fear. In traumatic experiences, it pairs with the hippocampus (the memory center of the brain) to store vivid and occasionally sensory memories.

When a memory trigger is provoked and brought back into consciousness, it actually changes slightly depending on the context of which it recalled. Those memories are changed to fit how we make sense of them. So if he feels guilty for his brothers death, then his memories will reflect it whether or not it’s actually true.

Essentially, him having his brothers showing up all the time (looking the way they do) is really bad for him on multiple levels, and not just because they’re triggering visually. They’re like actually impeding his ability to recover by keeping him in an aggressive form of already intense fight or flight that comes from trauma.

On a happier note, one of the best ways to improve is to establish and nurture caring relationships. Awww

Aight ima stop here so I don’t bore you to death with random psych facts, but like kudos to you my dude because I could go on forever about some of the stuff in there

Uh yeah

-writing anon 🤡

WRITING ANON? SLAPPING OUT ANALYSISSISIS AND SHIT?

Bein real I dont do much research on shit even tho I should. I just go off what I’ve seen/ learned throughout the years. It’s always good to hear I’m doin ahit right tho!

Lowkey right with the shock tho. Or high key lol. Seeking pain there’s other ways people do it but mmm somehow this seemed the tamest way. Oh writing anon u silly lil saltine cracker

[cynical-cemeteries]

WAITTTTT I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING AND NEEDED TO SHARE

okay so brandon’s trailer got released about a year ago right?? and his letter to raligon dropped the day after?? walk with me now

if raligon is supposed to be coming at the start of august, we should be hearing about his release and skill set near the end of this month……which is july……which also happens to be a year later……

and remember raligon’s letter to brandon at the end of our recent stream??

now imagine if they drop raligon’s trailer and his letter to brandon a year after??????

[little-pondhead]

The Curse Of Hope

_

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.

[xskyll]

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