#we never do anything but get groceries because you're such a freak
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
toughtttz · 17 days ago
Text
J hate my dad holy shit. He's always complaining about how my room is too messy because that's the only fucking thing he has to complain about but he doesn't realize that that's such a privilege actually. Like there aren't hundreds of other things he could be worried about
9 notes · View notes
shdysders · 7 months ago
Text
leave a message
pairing: jenna ortega & reader
summary: in which jenna leaves increasingly desperate voicemails for you, who never answers.
word count: 1.8k
author’s note: this is heavily inspiried by @toournextadventure’s letter imagine, go check it out!
Tumblr media
Hi! This is Y/N. Thanks for calling! I can't get to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll get back to you soon. Bye!
"Hey, it's me. Um, where are you? I've called a bunch of times and you haven't picked up. I'm starting to get really worried. Please call me back as soon as you get this. I love you."
MESSAGE SENT BY
"jen"
MARCH 15TH
7:34PM
"Baby, it's been hours now. Your friends haven't seen you and you're not at the usual spots. I'm driving around right now, looking for you. I... I just need to know you're okay. Please, just text me or something."
11:37PM
___
"Okay, so it's been almost a day. I've talked to your family and they don't know where you are either. This isn't like you to just disappear. I'm freaking out, and I don't know what to do. I just need to hear your voice and know you're safe. Please, please call me back."
MARCH 16TH
3:03 PM
___
"Where are you? I... I'm losing my mind here. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything until I know you're safe. Did something happen? Are you hurt? God, please be okay. Just... just let me know you're out there."
MARCH 17TH
5:54PM
___
"I went to the police today. I made sure to tell them how desperate I was and they said they'd start looking for you, but it doesn't feel like enough. I feel so helpless and almost guilty. I'm sorry if I ever did anything to make you feel like you needed to run. If you're mad at me, we can work through it, I promise. Just come back."
MARCH 18TH
3:21PM
I know I should've gone with you. You never go grocery shopping alone. What was I thinking, letting you go by yourself? Did something happen to you, or did you plan on leaving? Because I checked your closet, and you didn't bring anything. None of your things are missing. It doesn't make any sense. I'm driving myself crazy trying to figure out what happened. Please, if you're out there, just come back to me. I need to know you're safe."
11:21PM
___
"It's been five days. I'm sitting in our apartment, surrounded by your things, and it feels so empty without you. Every time my phone buzzes, my heart stops because I think it's you. I can't keep doing this.
They're putting up posters with your picture all over town. I can't believe this is happening. I keep expecting you to walk through the door and tell me it's all a joke, that you're okay. But you don't. And it hurts so much. I need you, baby. I need you more than ever.
Please, just give me a sign that you're okay. I don't know how much longer I can take this."
MARCH 19TH
5:32PM
___
"It's day six. I barely slept. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. I keep thinking about all the little things – the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you say my name. I'm not giving up. I can't give up. You're my everything.
I know you're out there somewhere. I refuse to believe anything else. I'm going to find you. I promise you that. I'll do whatever it takes to bring you home.
I've talked to everyone I could think of, but no one has seen you. It's like you vanished into thin air. God, I'm so scared. I don't know what to do."
MARCH 20TH
11:54AM
___
I've been thinking a lot about everything... about us. I can't shake this feeling that maybe I'm the reason you left, and I need to apologize for everything.
Like that time I yelled at you for interrupting me during a script rehearsal, or when I got upset because I was running late and took it out on you. I never meant any of it. I'm sorry for the times I canceled our plans last minute because of my schedule, leaving you hanging. And for all those times I didn't listen when you needed to talk, or when I brushed off your concerns because I was too wrapped up in my own problems.
I keep thinking maybe you left because I wasn't enough, because I failed you in so many ways. Remember when you wanted to go on that weekend trip, and I said no because I was too tired? Or the countless nights I spent on set, making you eat dinner alone? I'm so sorry if I made you feel unimportant or unloved. I never wanted to hurt you.
I keep replaying our last conversation in my head, wondering if there was something I missed, something I could have done differently. There probably is. There always is.
If you hear this, know that I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. I love you more than anything. Please come back to me. I promise I'll do better. I'll be better. Just come back.
MARCH 21ST
8:32PM
___
“I went to the police again, but they keep telling me to wait. How can I wait when you're out there, possibly in danger? I'm so scared, baby. Please, please be okay.
I don't know how much more I can take. I'm so scared. Scared that something terrible has happened. But I have to believe you're okay. I have to. Because the alternative... I can't even think about it."
MARCH 22ND
12:45AM
___
“It's my fault, isn't it? I must have done something to make you leave. I... I'm so sorry. I should have been better, should have seen the signs. I hate myself for not realizing sooner. I'm so sorry if I did anything to push you away. I didn't mean to. I'll do anything to make it right.“
MARCH 23RD
3:43PM
“The faucet in the kitchen started leaking again, and I can't fix it. You always knew how to handle things like that. You would have come up with some clever solution and would've tried teaching me even though you knew it's impossible.
Everything here is falling apart without you. I'm falling apart without you. I don't know how to do this on my own."
5:57PM
___
“I need to say it. It's been over a week now, and I... I'm starting to lose hope.
I hate myself for even thinking that, for feeling like this. It makes me feel disgusting and weak. You deserve better than this. I should be stronger, I should be doing more to find you. But every day that goes by without any news, I feel a little more defeated. Please, baby, forgive me. I don't want to give up. I won't give up. I promise. I just... I need you to come back. I'm so scared, and I feel so lost without you."
MARCH 24TH
7:28PM
___
"My agent just called and said I need to start thinking about going back to work. I don't know what to do.
Would you want me to go back? I can hear your voice in my head, telling me to be strong, to keep going. But how can I when you're not here? I feel so guilty, like I'm abandoning you if I go back. I need you to tell me what to do. I'm so scared."
MARCH 25TH
3:52PM
___
"There's this premiere coming up, and I don't even want to go. You were supposed to come with me. I'm just terrified and alone. I can't face any of this without you. I need you here to tell me I'm just being stupid and to hold my hand through it all. I'm struggling to keep it together. I need you to tell me it's going to be okay."
MARCH 26TH
6:38PM
___
"I went back to work yesterday, and it's hell. The internet is turning against me. People are saying things, talking about me and accusing me of not caring about you, of moving on too quickly. Some even suspect I had something to do with your disappearance. I know I shouldn’t listen to them but it's tearing me apart. You know how much you mean to me, how I'm doing everything I can to find you. But now I feel like I'm drowning in all this hate. I don't know how to handle it without you here. You'd tell me to ignore them, to focus on what's important. But it's so hard. I'm so scared, and I feel so alone. I need you more than ever."
MARCH 28TH
3:42PM
___
"You know what? Fuck this. I'm so fucking tired of this bullshit! Where the fuck are you? Do you even fucking care about me, about us? Do you have any idea what you've put me through? I've been out of my mind with worry, tearing myself apart trying to find you, and what? For nothing! You just vanished without a fucking trace. How could you do this to me? It's like you don't give a shit!
I'm here, losing my fucking mind, while you're... I don't even know where you are! Are you hiding? Did you just decide to fuck off and leave me to deal with all this crap? The internet's tearing me apart, people think I had something to do with this, and you're not here to defend me, to tell me what the hell is going on! It's fucking selfish! You're fucking selfish for doing this!
You left me here, drowning in all this, and I hate you for it. I hate you for making me feel this way, for making me doubt everything! I can't fucking take it anymore!"
MARCH 30TH
01:56AM
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't mean it. I'm just... I'm breaking down. I'm so angry, not at you. Just at everything else.
Please, come back. I didn't mean any of it. I just need you. Please."
01:58AM
___
“The police... they found a body in the river a few hours away. They said it's too decomposed to identify right now. I'm losing my mind. It can't be you. It can't be. I swear to God, if it's you, I'll die. I'll fucking die, do you hear me? I can't breathe, I can't think. I'm shaking so badly. Please, please, let it not be you.
They're going to do tests, but it'll take time. Time I don't have. Time I can't bear. I'm so scared, baby. I can't do this. I can't wait and not know if it's you. I'm going insane. Please, God, don't let it be you. I need you to be okay. I need you to come back to me.
I keep imagining the worst. I can't stop. I'm so fucking terrified. I feel like I'm going to throw up. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. Please, please be okay. I can't live without you. I need you. I love you so much. Please come back. Please."
MARCH 31ST
9:51PM
594 notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 1 year ago
Text
Eddie Munson gets famous at fifteen, after a YouTube video goes viral.
He's the kind of famous where he can't leave his house without being mobbed; where his name is plastered across grocery store tabloids and every fifth Pop Crave post; who has to make special arrangements with stores, whose body guards have body guards, who's forgotten what it's like to be normal. He's the kind of famous with well-chronicled stints in and out of rehab
And he thinks, at thirty, why not do a reality show? Why not let everyone in the world into his life because they're there anyway?
There's this guy on the crew, beautiful as a fucking sunrise. He's all golden-tanned and chestnut-haired, with these big hazel eyes that makes Eddie stomach swoop deliciously whenever they happen to meet his.
His name is Steve.
And Eddie, well. He's learned his lesson about jumping into relationships. So, Steve is nice to look at, and that's all there is to it.
---
They're at the studio, and Eddie, he only smokes when he's recording but he's "not allowed" to do that inside. So, he steps out into the alley behind the building, eyes falling shut as he hands search his pockets for his pack of Camels and his Zippo.
"I didn't realize you smoked," a deep voice says from the darkness.
Eddie startles, eyes flying open. Steve is leaning against the brick of the building, cigarette perched between his pursed lips.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I'm Steve. With the crew."
"Eddie," he answers by instinct.
"I know," Steve chuckles. His hazel eyes are golden in the yellow streetlight.
"Oh, right." He lights his cigarette and inhales deep.
"I really like what you're doing in there." Steve nods his head towards the studio.
"You a fan?"
"Never listened to you much before. Not really a metal kinda guy, but I like it."
People aren't usually honest with Eddie. It's refreshing.
"Glad you're getting into it! How's your--uh, job going?"
Steve laughs. "First assistant camera, that's my job." Eddie's expression must read a total blank, but Steve only smiles. "I make sure everything's in focus while we film"
"Is that--hard?"
"Sometimes," Steve agrees. "How do you like being the star of a reality show?"
Eddie huffs out a breath. "It's more fun than I expected. Like, sure it's weird to have you guys follow me around, but at least I invited you, you know?"
Steve's dark eyes are fathomless in his perfect face. "You'll let me know? If anything happens that you don't like?"
Eddie nods, taken aback by the serious line of Steve's pretty mouth. Before he can respond more, the back door creaks open, Gareth's backlit shape leaning into the alley. "Eddie? They're ready for you."
"Duty calls." He smiles at Steve as he stomps out his cigarette. "See you around."
---
Eddie goes to a house party in the hills. It's just a handful of people, all of them he's known for years, no cameras in sight.
Someone asks how things are going with the band. Eddie doesn't think anything of it. Why should he, among friends? Why should he when they already know the resentment that Gareth, Jeff, and Freak have for him? Eddie got signed and not his band. The guys--they never really forgave him, think he could have tried harder.
So, he says--he says--"I wish they didn't resent me so goddamn much still. To this day! They're millionaires and they're pissed at me? Fuck that. I got them here. I got us all here."
They're filming the next day at Eddie's house. He's working on a new song, engrossed in his acoustic and his notebook.
He's so in the zone, it takes him a second to register when Gareth bursts into the house.
"Fuck you, Munson," Gareth screams. "What the fuck is this shit?" Eddie's own voice pours from Gareth's phone, and Eddie's stunned speechless for dozens of seconds as he tries to comprehend what's happening.
"I didn't--" he tires. He raises his hands placatingly, but his minds a whirlwind, thoughts a tangle, heart a mess of betrayal and hurt and fear.
"We should be fucking grateful?" Gareth yells. "You spoiled piece of shit, fuck you!" He lunges towards Eddie, but Steve darts from behind the camera, moving to block Gareth's path.
"Stop filming," Eddie shouts. He lifts his arms to block the shit. "Get out," he snaps at the crew. " Now!"
He and Gareth scuffle towards a set of double-doors, heated words low and unintelligible.
"Don't come in." He tells the crew. "Steve, I mean it. Tell them to stop."
Eddie shoves Gareth into the other room, slamming the door behind him. Still, the mics pick up the screaming fight between the two men.
Hours later, Eddie finally makes his way back to the main part of the house, finds Steve standing at the kitchen island.
"Why are you still here?" He's too exhausted from the fight to put any inflection into it.
"I was wo--I wanted to make sure everything was okay," Steve says. He relaxes against the island. "Are yo--is everything okay?"
Eddie's laugh is humorless. "Something like that."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
The tears he kept at bay with Gareth prick at his eyelids until they burn. "Not really, no."
Steve nods. "We could--you wanna watch a movie?"
This startles a laugh out of Eddie, one that has tears flooding his eyes and he has to blink fast, look down, anything so Steve doesn't notice.
"You know what I want?" he says. It's soft enough that maybe Steve, across the kitchen, wouldn't hear.
"What?"
"To have friends who won't sell me out for a couple thousand bucks." The tears start falling, his throat choked with emotion.
He wants to stop, embarrassed to be crying in front of Steve, but now that he's started, sobs shake his shoulders and he can't keep quiet.
Steve reaches for him. "Is this okay?" he whispers, hands rubbing circles against his back.
Eddie nods, cries for a while as Steve makes soothing motions against his back.
"I just wish I was normal," he mumbles when he has words again.
Steve's hold on him tightens. "I'm sorry, Eddie."
Shame hits him then, too hard to ignore, and he steps away. "I'm gonna--I'm gonna go. I--Thanks again."
He ignores the sound of Steve calling him back.
---
Eddie's playing a show. He's playing a show in a small club, something he hasn't been able to do for years, but he's doing it right now. It's electric, vibrating through his body, the crowd screaming along with every word.
So much of this is because of Steve, and Eddie can't think about it, because men like Steve aren't for guys like Eddie.
As he plays, his eyes scan the small crowd, find Steve easily. He's gazing at Eddie, lips slicked pink and parted, eyes shining. Eddie knows this look; the naked desire obvious. A heat he never lets himself feel for Steve blooms low in his abdomen, but--
He wails into his mic, forcing his thoughts away from that path. He has a show to play, one that's pumping his veins full of satisfied adrenaline. Nothing can ruin it.
When the show ends, Eddie is high, endorphins and adrenaline pounding through his bloodstream.
Eddie, the band, and the film crew make their way out the club's backdoor. There's a car idling close by, but they only get a few steps in before there's shouting; the ear-shattering click of dozens of camera shutters; overwhelming burst of flashes.
Eddie is disoriented, dizzy; the rapid shift from the best night he's had in years, to this, mobbed by paparazzi, people screaming his name, crowding their small group. He stumbles, black spots still obstructing his vision.
Arms catch around him, holding him steady. "You okay?" Steve asks.
Before he can answer, one of the paps yells, "Munson's wasted! Can't even walk!"
"C'mon, Ed, I've got you," Steve says.
"Just get into the booze, Munson, or someone had Molly too? Maybe a little coke? That used to be your thing, right? Snort a little blow and do a show?"
Eddie tenses, almost stops, but Steve keeps him going.
The crowd surges around them, more voices yelling, more flashbulbs popping, the guy saying, "He can't even stand without help! You got a real problem you know?"and he just--can't anymore. He whirls out of Steve's grasp, lunges for the guy.
"What's your fucking problem, man?" Eddie hisses. "What did I do to you, huh?"
"Real tough, Munson, huh?" The man sneers. He shoves Eddie hard, knocking him back a few steps.
Eddie's vision fuzzes out, brain buzzing. He snarls, knows he does, knows he's losing it, can't make it stop.
Strong arms wrap around his waist, pull him off his feet. He fights it until he's pressed into a wall, until cold hands cup his face.
"Baby, baby, you have to calm down," Steve murmurs. "You have to breathe, can you do that for me?"
"I want--he can't--I--"
Steve presses harder against him, bodies joined. "You're having a panic attack, yeah? Can you breathe with me, baby? Match me?"
Eddie nods, tries, wants to be good for Steve.
He calms, as much from the breathing exercise as being held by the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Pressing his face against Steve's neck he says, "why are you always around for my worst moments? I'm such a fucking mess."
"I don't think you're a mess," he says. "I think you've gotten hurt, you've gotten cornered. And your reactions are normal."
"Why do you even care?" Eddie asks.
Steve doesn't even pause. "Cause I like you, Eddie." His hold tightens for a second. "I like you a lot."
Eddie scoffs. "Yeah, you like Eddie Munson, the hot rockstar. Not the loser who cries in your arms"
Cold air hits Eddie as Steve steps away to meet Eddie's eyes. You want to know something? I didn't expect to like you at all. I admit, I bought into all the stories on the internet. But you were never anything like that, Ed. Not even once."
Steve takes a deep breath, turning away as his cheeks grow pink. "And you--you're always going out of your way for people. The day I knew I was gone for you? Three weeks into filming. There was this kid interning. You didn't know a thing about him, just some twenty-year-old, and you sat down and talked to him. Were genuinely interested in everything he said."
"Steve," Eddie's voice breaks. He has to cover his mouth, lips a wobbling mess.
"I want to give you normal, Eddie, as much as I can. If you'll let me."
The moisture tumbles free from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. Eddie laughs. "God, Steve, you're--I like you, too."
Steve brushes the tears away. "So, you'd go on a date with me?"
"I think I would really like to go on a date with you, yeah."
Steve leans in, slow and gentle, placing a soft kiss at the corner of Eddie's mouth. It lights him up like a fresh struck match, nerve endings on fire. He thinks it's so much more than like already.
"Take me home, sweetheart," he says.
"Getting fresh with me, Munson," Steve smirks. "I won't have you using your rockstar wiles to seduce me."
Eddie's laugh echoes off the brick of the surrounding buildings. "Oh, sweetheart, my rockstar ways will destroy you."
"That a promise?"
---
Six months later, the first and only season of Welcome to Hell premieres. Instead, of chronicling a rockstar's debauched and wild lifestyle, it's a soft and charming love story. It shows Steve and Eddie growing closer, Steve working late into the night, to give Eddie the hint of normalcy he's so desperate for, to make him happy. It shows Eddie's eyes track Steve across a room, something like sadness crossing his face. It shows a concert that Steve arranged, the fight with the pap outside the venue, brief glimpses of Steve and Eddie in the aftermath, the gentle kiss.
In the last interview of the season, the producer asks Eddie if there will be a season two of Welcome to Hell.
Eddie smiles, glances off camera, which pans to find Steve in worn jeans and a Metallica hoodie, hair messy and wearing glasses. He gazes at Eddie, smiles this soft, aching thing.
"Nah, I don't think I need it anymore," Eddie answers. Throwing the camera a smile that matches Steve's.
2K notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 1 month ago
Note
what possessed you to write that nasty gamer boyfriend fic, not being judgemental, just genuinely curious cuz I love that fic and it seemed so vivid with all the detailing, did anything inspire you?
♡ GAMER BOYFRIEND
Tumblr media
Yeah! A couple things actually!
I'd been staying with my brother and his girlfriend for a while. And while my brother is nowhere near the guy in the fic, he is a gamer who games a lot while his girlfriend does the grocery shopping and makes all the food every single day. So, I guess the idea first started with me just thinking about what a hopeless wreck my brother would be if she decided to suddenly leave him.
But my brother isn't useless or incompetent or anything like that. Nor is he a slob. He's just very comfortable with letting his girlfriend make decisions, I think. So this isn't a diss to my brother! Though, maybe a little...
Anyway. While I was staying there, my brother was watching a lot of Asmongold. I don't know so much about him, but from what I gathered by staying at my brother's place, he's this streamer who plays video games and discusses different topics of interest. But, more importantly than that, what I really noticed is that the guy lives in a complete pigsty. Like, the stuff I was describing in the fic is literally how this guy lives, and he's completely at peace with it, too. Idk, it's the wildest thing. He was talking about how, a while back, he had this dead rat that he didn't bother tossing out and that when the sun rose in the morning and shone through the window, the dead rat would start cooking, and the smell of that would wake him up and let him know it was time for him to stream. He called it the dead rat alarm clock. Like, I'm not even making this up.
I'm not really dissing him, either, though. Like, to each their own. I just thought it was the wildest thing I'd heard in a while.
And we were watching other Asmongold-ish streamers who just have the wildest fucking lifestyles. Literally just living in trash with cockroaches roaming around. Idk. Stuff is wild. But it got me to realize that, yeah, some people really don't give a fuck about hygiene and tidiness whatsoever.
And then, funny enough, my best friend's boyfriend broke up with her. And while we were dishing about how he wasn't good enough for her anyway and all that jazz, we were also digging up and talking trash about all her other previous boyfriends. And then she opened up about how one of them was a total fucking disaster. She'd been too ashamed to tell me this when they were together, but apparently, not only was he a hoarder, but she could tell he never ever cleaned his apartment because the bathroom had something she called "layers of sticky dust coating everything"
Like, it seems like such a common standard to have, but no, some people don't think cleaning is important at all. Or they just don't care enough to bother with it.
And, yeah, I suppose it just got me thinking about boys in general and how completely dirty their apartments are, with exceptions, obviously, and probably some girls included.
But yeah, the last guy I dated had constant shit stains in his toilet. And he had a pair of Lego flowers in there he was so proud of. And don't get me wrong, Lego flowers are cool, but they were always completely shrouded in dust, so you couldn't really enjoy them. And, you know, it's fine not to have everything spotless all the time. I'm not a neat freak myself, but I mean, if you're having visitors, the least thing you can do is make sure there isn't shit in the toilet. I don't know. That stuff is so wild to me.
But yeah, in the midst of all these musings and discussions, I got the idea to write that fic. I just really felt the need to make that character as he'd become so real to me all of a sudden.
144 notes · View notes
lilia-calderus-pet-goat · 2 months ago
Text
Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 5: (because they all deserved more time with each other)
(part 4, here) - (part 3, here) - (part 2 - here) - (part 1, here)
Lilia once had a fling with Carmilla, from the lesbian vampire novel. She absent-mindedly mentioned it one time while Billy was browsing 'queer classics' and he looked at her in absolute shock. “What? I wasn't *always* a hermit—” “That's not what I'm shocked a b o u t—”
Lilia is very irresponsible with what she eats, sometimes forgetting food all-together, never checking for expiration dates, etc. (“I don't mind a *lapsed* expiration date-”)
Jen has taken it upon herself to fix that. She won't let her go grocery shopping alone and she won't let her eat whatever. Your girl makes shopping lists and schedules specific meals for every day each week, to make sure her resident scatter-brain stays healthy.
Jen and Alice vent to each other a lot. Mainly because they provide each other with very different, but also always very honest and objective perspectives. Jen reminds Alice to put herself first on occasion and Alice reminds Jen to give others the benefit of the doubt sometimes.
One day, the Kaplans asked to have coffee with the coven, which made Billy incredibly nervous. Mainly because Agatha wasn't making it easy in the slightest.
Sharon managed to save the day, against all odds. She took them to the side for a bit and comforted them, explaining that she herself is just a regular lady, but she's grown to love the others regardless. And so the Kaplans gave the coven a second chance and ended up finding them rather endearing despite their constant quarrels.
Rebecca Kaplan gets a private moment with Agatha. She tells her that she's sorry about Nicholas, and that she almost knows what that feels like, because she almost lost her son. Then there's a pause, and she adds, “... well, not almost, was it?” by herself. Because a mother always knows.
If it was about anything else, Agatha woulf have mocked her. She didn't. She looked at this woman who's lost her son, but can't mourn him, because he's right there with her—and she nodded empatheticaly. There they stood, two mothers of boys who died, filling the void in their hearts with Wanda's son. And they don't love him any less.
“I'm glad he has you ladies in his life. At first I was... Apprehensive, worried, I guess. But at least he has some people who can relate to him more, understand him, mentor him. Because his father and I—he needs more than what we can give him.” — “Well, you're doing something right. You've already given him the most valuable thing. And for that you are his parents, you always will be.”
When Rebecca Kaplan realises Alice is Lorna Wu's daughter she freaks out completely (since we know she was a fan, having gone to her last concert.) She hadn't made the connection before meeting her personally, despite hearing about her a lot from Billy.
The fake car that Agatha distractedly entered in the first episode was built by John Collins (Herb) at Sharon's request, as 'Agnes' had been trying to break into Sharon's car and use it for her crazy episodes. They got worried that she'd get herself hurt, so they made her the fake car to make sure she wouldn't leave her house.
149 notes · View notes
am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago
Note
am i the asshole for yelling at my friend when i found out he had sex in my car?
i (26f) lived with my friend John (26m) when we were in college. John didnt have a car, but i did so i did most of the driving when we needed groceries/whatever we needed to go out for (it was a college town so it was mostly walkable, so we didnt need to drive every day). i have issues with other people using my car, especially when im not there (if anything goes wrong id rather it be my fault than have to deal with someone else totaling my car). but John had a girlfriend (Sarah) who also didnt have a car, so he would sometimes borrow my car (with my permission ofc, he never took it without me knowing) to take her on dates. when they were gone, i would constantly be nervous that something went wrong. there would be times they would go to a movie, then they would be gone for longer than the movie's runtime and i would get so anxious that something happened, then find out that they had just gone shopping/to dinner/etc after the movie ended. i never bothered saying anything because i didnt want to seem like a control freak saying "you can only borrow my car if you tell me exactly what you're doing and when you'll be back"
anyways, fast forward to now. i got a new car a couple years ago, John and i no longer live together (not because of any problems, we just got our own places after we graduated), and he is still with Sarah. one day John, Sarah, a few of our other friends, and i were all hanging out.
then at one point, Sarah made a joke about having sex in the car after Yesterday (the beatles movie from a few years ago). then i said "hold on, didnt you guys borrow my car to see that movie?" and everyone got really quiet. i turned to John and said "you had sex in my car???" and he tried to laugh it off but didnt deny it. and i got MAD. i was yelling at him and admittedly was pretty harsh (like calling him insensitive for violating my trust & property)
he said something along the lines of "i'm sorry, but it was a long time ago and theres nothing i can do to change it, and you dont even have the car anymore" and i realized he was right, and that screaming at him wasnt going to accomplish anything, but i was still mad so i left and went home
i asked some of my friends that were there if i was being crazy, and they basically said that it was understandable that i was mad, but yelling at him in front of everyone just made them uncomfortable and killed the vibe for the rest of the night, and there was nothing any of us could do about it now. no one told me how Sarah reacted, but she has really bad anxiety so knowing her, im guessing she didnt take it well that i got mad about something she said, and i do feel bad about that (though, in fairness, i assume she knows common decency and would know that having sex in someone else's car is wrong)
anyways, i dont think im the asshole because i think i have a right to be upset about that, and even though it was a long time ago i JUST found out about it so it wasnt that long ago for me. but i know i might be the asshole just because i yelled at John in front of our friends and made everyone uncomfortable over something that he can't do anything about anymore, and since i dont even have that car anymore, it has no impact on my life
tldr: my friend had sex in my car years ago and i found out about it and tried to fight with him about it in front of a bunch of our other friends, and it made everyone uncomfortable. so, am i the asshole for getting angry years after my friend had sex in my car? 🚗
What are these acronyms?
186 notes · View notes
etoiile · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
"BE BRAVE"
starring chigiri hyoma!
synopsis: after being your roommate for a little over half a year, chigiri can say without a doubt that he's never met someone like you. you're sweet, funny, and just a great friend. but what happens when he wants to be more than that?
warning(s): not proofread but im p sure i didnt grammar correctly, mild swearing, gender neutral reader
notes: i want him your honor
Tumblr media
"im back.." you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and practically throwing yourself onto the couch.
"well, dont you sound energetic." he joked as he turned off his phone and sat down next to you. "rough day?"
"ugh you cant even begin to imagine." you grumbled. "shit day. start talking. distract me."
"hmm..." he thought. "my day was pretty uneventful. i got let out early and just caught up on some stuff."
"who were you texting earlier? got any tea?" you questioned sleepily with a yawn. gossip sessions with chigiri were your absolute favorite. whenever he texted someone, there was usually some sort of news. plus, he gossiped like a girl and you were here for it. (sorry but chi is just so freaking canonically girlypop)
"nah. i wish, though. just talking to my older sister about some... stuff." he trailed off, racking his brain for a new subject.
"you hungry?" he asked, motioning towards the kitchen.
"yeah. will you carry me?" you asked tiredly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. you were too tired to move on your own.
chigiri rolled his eyes at you, but still let you climb onto his back regardless.
as he carried you to the kitchen, he couldn't help the way his heart would leap out of his chest every time you left out a sleepy groan or would shift a little in his hold before nuzzling into his back. he couldn't help but imagine being here with you, in this apartment, though not as roommates or even friends, but lovers. he couldn't help how he could never be mad at you, despite what he'd say. he couldn't help how every time you did literally anything, he could feel himself falling deeper in love with you.
"well, think about it this way, chi." his sister had texted. "you've got two choices before you. confess or dont. correct?"
"yeah"
"WRONG. there's only one choice. by doing nothing, youre doing nothing but self torture. you'll always be thinking about how much you want to hold her but cant, and you'll have to watch her go on dates and even get ready for them. obvi, thats no fun. imo, just go for it, honestly. gotta be brave, yk?"
at the time, chigiri said something along the lines of, "maybe i will, maybe i wont. we'll see." before turning off his phone to greet you.
now, as he thinks about his feelings, he's never been more sure. he's never felt this way about anybody else before. its not like his past relationship where it was thrilling and exciting but exhausting. the way he feels with you is different. you feel safe. warm. comforting. you feel like a warm, sunny breeze after a cold rain. you feel like home. you feel like warmth. you feel like love.
he gently set you down at the kitchen counter before heading to the fridge.
"we dont have much food because SOMEBODY forgot to buy groceries." he teased. "we have fruit, eggs, bread, tobiko roe, rice, and instant ramen."
"yeah, yeah. anyways.." you then started batting your lashes at him like a maniac. "would you mind making me some ramen, my dear, sweet chichi?"
chigiri's heart leapt at the use of the word "my." he could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he quickly turned around.
"yeah, yeah, as you command." he rolled his eyes (for the 349348th time) and got to work.
"dont forget the eggs!"
"just be brave," his sister had said.
pfft. "just be brave?" give him a break! it just wasn't that simple. he couldn't risk the friendship most beloved to him. he just couldn't!
he watched as the seasoning gently bubbled with the noodles as he gently stirred the pot with a pair of wooden chopsticks, humming along to a tune he'd heard on your playlist absentmindedly.
"CHIGIRI?!" you suddenly yelped, clearly taken aback.
"what? is something wrong?" he asked calmly but concerned, praying that you weren't hurt as he set down the chopsticks and ran to you.
his cheeks were met by your palms as you squished his face together. "you're humming "cruel summer" by taylor swift! ive done it! youre a swiftie!" you let go as you squealed and leaped for joy, jumping about.
"chigiri's a swiftie! chichi is a swiftie!"
he chuckled as he watched your antics when suddenly, you crashed into him as you jumped.
you looked up from his chest and were met with his gorgeous pink orbs. it stunned you for a moment. they were so captivating, like they were gently chorusing a beautiful melody. you felt yourself sinking into them when suddenly, you realized the position you were in.
there was maybe an inch or two separating your lips from his. flustered, you quickly drew back, though you didnt exactly want to.
"sorry! um, my bad. i was just thinking! about how your eyes? uh... about how taylor swift has... uh... actually, what am i saying I WAS ACTUALLY-" you stammered as you tried to find an excuse for lingering much too long in his arms. staring into his beautiful eyes. on his chest. his muscular, toned, delicious... STOP.
suddenly, chigiri felt something. it wasn't embarrassment, it wasn't anxiety, it was... bravery.
gently gliding over to your flustered and still stammering figure, chigiri took your hands and looked you in the eye, freezing you.
"y/n, youre my one of my best friends." he said, his melodic voice gently wafting through the air. he then gently leaned down to your ear and in a low whisper, said:
"the thing is though, i dont want you like a best friend."
you were left frozen.
"a lyric from "dress." not bad, am i right?" he asked with a sly grin.
as the great taylor swift said, (in "its time to go") when the words of a sister come back in whisper, he realized that his sister was, as much as he hated to admit it, right. all he needed was to be brave.
Tumblr media
𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍
198 notes · View notes
words-like-water · 2 years ago
Text
You're My Angel
or the one where running errands with peter makes you realize your feelings for him.
wooo! first published story. it has not been betad so if you're looking to be a mutual/beta reader pleeeease hit me up
peter parker x fem!reader
word count: 2,700
warnings: none really. angst if you squint bc unrequited love that ends up requited
i don't like using y/n so peter and the reader call each other lots of nicknames. 
Tumblr media
nothing. nothing. nothing.
nothing in the fridge, nothing in the cabinets. no ingredients, barely any snacks. the only tangible things in my kitchen are a bottle of ketchup and multiple almost-rotten fruits. i slam the refrigerator door shut and lean against it with a sigh.
i guess next time i should stock up before a mission. living with my mom has its. we get along, and we don't get in each other's way; she's always at work and i'm always at "avenger club" as she likes to call it. however, being the only other person living here also means that if she doesn't buy groceries, it's my responsibility.
i'm contemplating using instacart for groceries when my phone rings in its spot on the counter. picking it up, a smile finds its way to my face as i see who's calling me.
"hiiii, angel!"
 peter parker's voice pours from my phone's speakers. it's music to my ears. peter and i have known each other since he joined the avengers, two years after i had. we've been inseparable since that week in haiti, saving civilians from a freak tropical storm. 
we had so much in common, from our love of legos to our protective sense for the people we care about. my friends like his friends, and vice versa. even my mom and may get along. 
we're like peanut butter and jelly, chicken and waffles, and cookies and milk. we're great on our own, but together, we just make something amazing. wait, what?
i shake the ridiculous thought from my head as i remember i'm on the phone.
"what do you want, parker?" there's a playful accusatory tone in my voice as I cross my arms like he can see me.
"whatever do you mean? i can't just call my best friend because i want to talk to her?"
i roll my eyes and say, "peter, you only call me angel when you want something." and i know i'm right. he's called me angel ever since we went on a mission where i basically saved his life. he knows it strokes my ego.
"fine, you caught me. may's at this thing with some ladies she met at the library. i'm soooo bored."
"well you're in luck," i proclaim, pushing off of the fridge and walking down the hallway. "i need to run errands, you can come with me."
i hear something like plastic rustling on his end of the phone before he groans, "ew, errands? no thanks." his words are almost incoherent around a snack of some sort.
making it into my room, i drop my phone on the bed and start to change out of my sweats. "okay, stay at home and be bored out of your mind. and when i go to delmar's later don't ask me to bring you anything." i smirk at the commotion i hear from his side as i pull on a different shirt. 
"delmar's? i'll be at your house in 10," he says loud and clear, then he hangs up. 
I shake my head while messing with my hair a bit. not that i care what i look like in front of peter, i just like to be decent anytime i leave the house.
---
true to his word, peter knocked on my door 10 minutes later. his cheeks tinted red and his hair unruly. 
"did you swing here?" i ask him, reaching up to comb through the curls until they lay somewhat flat. he leans down a bit and allows me to work, his hair like silk between my fingers. 
"yeah, the sooner we do boring grown-up stuff, the sooner we can get sandwiches." he looks at me with a gleam in his eyes that never disappears. 
i push his head away lightly as a grab my purse and keys. "you only wanna run errands with me so i'll buy you food? you're such a leech, parker." i say with fake hurt in my voice as i turn to lock the door. 
"awww. that's not true, i'd run errands with you anytime, angel." he coos, and i have to force myself to remain standing as he runs his fingertips down my spine.
i narrow my eyes at him to hide the fact that i'm wracking my brain for possible explanations of why he could have done that. there had to be something on my shirt. that gesture was pure friendliness, right? and better question, why did it make my knees feel weak as toothpicks?
"whatever, liar." i laugh a little to keep my voice steady as i brush past him towards the elevator.
as we get in, he asks me what kind of errands i need to run. first, the library to return some books, then groceries. then we can get delmar's i assure him.
the walk from my apartment building to the library isn't long, and once i return the books, we head for the grocery store. between the destinations, we talk about school, different shows, and our secret "club," but only with codenames in case anyone is listening. we people watch and play games, and every now and then i feel peter's hand brush mine. only slightly, like it was an accident, i pray it was an accident. 
we reach the grocery store, and like the gentleman he is, he grabs a basket while i look for the list in my purse. 
"okay, first things first, cereal." i declare, walking in one direction. they had recently rearranged the layout of the store, but i was confident that i knew where i needed to go. i turn to say something to peter when i realize he's walking the opposite way. 
"peter," i call for him, "where are you going?"
"...to..get..cereal?" he points out like i've just asked him the most obvious question.
"baby," i condescendingly say, "cereal's this way," i point in the direction i was originally going. 
"no, sweetheart, cereal is this way." he juts his thumb in the direction he was going.
"alright, parker." i walk closer to him. "since you think you know everything, let's make it a game."
"okay," he smirks as he crosses his arms, "i'm listening." his tongue swiping across his bottom lip.
my eyes catch on his thick arms, straining against his sweatshirt. stupid spider. and i have to rip my eyes away from the motion at his lips to continue my thoughts. what is wrong with me today?
"for every item on the list," i fight to keep my eyes on his, "we'll make a bet about which side of the store it's on. whoever loses the most has to buy dinner."
he nods along to what i'm saying, seemingly contemplating, but i can already see the mischief in his eyes. "i'll play your game, but when you lose just know i'm ordering everything delmar's makes."
"oh please, be my guest," i nod along with him, "i just hope you've got enough cash to back yourself up."
in the next second, he's in my space. barely three inches away as my breath catches in my throat. 
"so, cereal... lead the way."
---
i turn on my heels, speeding towards where i know the cereal is. he doesn't expect me to move so quickly, as he's still standing where i was a second ago. but he reacts, catching up to me slightly.
my heart is beating fast and hard, and i pray he can't hear it. i can't think for the life of me why he's acting like this. he can't like me. we're friends. that's how i know that peter is awkward. and he's shy, especially with girls that he likes. but he's not shy right now. he's being so forward. which means...
he doesn't like me, he's playing with me. this really is a game to him. he only calls me angel when he wants something.
i almost pass what i'm looking for in my scatterbrained state. "see," i motioned, "there it is, like i said." 
i grab what i need and put it in the basket, barely looking at him, though i can feel his confusion at my change in emotion. i take the list, putting my initial next to the first item, and read off the second item to him. we place our bets, and head in his direction first. it turns out to be correct, so i check off the item and write his initial. we continue this for the rest of the items, but my mind begins to wander again.
i can't believe peter would mess with me like this. playing with my feelings. feelings that i didn't even know i had. i try to think about when they could have developed, and it dawns on me. as i watch him put bread in the basket, an item i was right about, i realize why today is different. 
peter and i had never run errands together. being in such a domestic situation with someone i had come to care for so much made me realize just how much i like peter. of course, when i first met him, i thought he was attractive, but more so, i found him adorable. and he's funny, and he cares so much. and throughout the years he's done everything he can to make me happy. running errands with him made me think of the future. our future and how this could be us one day, making groceries for our apartment.
but it will never be us, because peter doesn't feel that way, and he's playing with me, and it hurts more than i can admit.
i don't hear whatever gloating statement he makes as he wins the next item, fruits and vegetables, and he notices. his face falls as he assesses what might be wrong, and i can feel my throat close at the thought of having this conversation. the universal, friendship-ending, i-like-you-why-don't-you-like-me-back conversation. i cough, clearing my face of any emotion except feigned annoyance. 
"good job. you're in the lead by one. the last item is jam, and i think it's this way, so let's go."
i don't give him a chance to say anything as i take the basket, and head in the direction i indicated. i can feel him keeping his distance, but i don't bother to look behind me. it's good that he can feel his game ending. maybe we can go back to being regular friends after this. hopefully. 
we reach the shelves filled with jellies, jams, syrups, and preserves. it's exactly where i thought it was, although a little high, and i mark my initials next to it. peter congratulates me quietly. i make no comment about how we're tied now, and i reach for it, just aching to hurry up and get out of this store and go home.
i can't reach it, not even on my tippy toes, so i step on the lowest shelf to give myself a boost. i feel my fingers graze the jar, and i almost have it when i hear peter.
"angel, you're gonna hurt yourself, just let me get it." 
and it's a good thing that his hand is hovering over my lower back, waiting for permission. because hearing him call me that name, the one that doesn't sound the same anymore, makes me falter, and with my weight of center because of the basket, i slip off the shelf. 
it's not that high off the ground, but in my distressed state, it startles me nonetheless. peter catches me, one arm on my back and one arm around my front. i'm sure he can feel my heavy breaths, my beating heart. 
he takes the basket, sets it on the ground, and i can feel it before he says it. it takes everything in me not to cry. it's not enough.
"are you okay, angel?"
next thing i know, i'm angrily wiping tears from my face and pushing him away from me. 
"stop it. stop calling me that," i say between deep breaths.
"okay. i'm sorry. i thought you liked it." he steps towards me, hands up, with an apologetic shrug.
he's right.  and that's the problem.
"i do; i do like it. but not like this, not when you don't mean it." i see his brows furrow.
"wh-what do you mean, 'i don't mean it'?" i don't realize he's so close now, and as he places his hands gently on my arms, i don't stop him.
steadying myself, i gaze at my shoes. unable to look at him as i rip my heart out to put it on my sleeve.
"you only call me angel when you want something. but today was different, and i hadn't put two and two together until just now. when you brushed my back in front of my apartment, and when you kept touching my hand on our walk, and when you got in my space when we first got here, it all drove me insane. and you keep calling me angel, but it's different, and now i know why. because you're messing with me, peter parker. and it hurts because i really, really like you, but this is just a game to you. which hurts even more because i never thought that you would do something like this."
i finish my rambling in sniffles, and i wait with bated breath for him to laugh in my face. 
"aw, baby," his hands cupping my face coax me to look at him. "do you know why i call you angel? hm?"
"because i saved your life," i sniffle and try to look back at the floor. but he holds me in place, dipping his head to keep eye contact with me.
"well yes, but also, because you're my angel. any time i hear you laugh, it makes my heart feel like it's gonna beat out of my chest. and you're so beautiful, all the time, it's like you're glowing. but most of all, just like an angel, you make my world a better place just by being in it."
it's easier for me to breathe now. and i don't think i've ever been happier than i am in this moment. i bet i look hysterical, covered in tears, and standing on the jelly aisle. 
"if you really like me, why did you act like that, all bold and stuff?" I'm starting to calm down, "the peter parker i know is awkward when he likes a girl, always."
peter's cheeks go pink, and it's his turn to struggle to hold eye contact.
"i don't know, when i asked mr. stark what i should do about liking you, he told be to be bold because girls like that. i guess i didn't think about if that would work with you." 
his thumbs caress back and forth against my cheeks absentmindedly.
"well, it doesn't work with me," i place my hands on his wrists, my thumbs mirroring his motion. "i want awkward peter parker."
his face is slowly inching towards mine, and this time i don't mind.
"oh yeah?," his eyes flicker to my lips before returning to mine. "i promise i'll go back to being awkward, right after this."
he presses his lips gently against mine, the salt from my dried tears present between us as i kiss him back. even though we were standing in the middle of a grocery store, it was the softest, most romantic experience i've ever had. i wouldn't change a thing. as his tongue brushed against my bottom lip, i had no choice but to regard the fact that we were in public.
"okay, tiger," i pulled back, reluctantly.
the pink in his cheeks deepened drastically. 
"see," i move my hands to cup his face now, "there's my peter parker."
he turns my hand to kiss my palm, then the other. we separate long enough for him to grab the jam and place it in the basket, picking it up. then, he wraps his free arm around me and pulls me into his side.
"i know we tied, but will you still buy me dinner?", i ask as we walk towards the checkout line.
he laughs and kisses my temple, "yes angel, i'll buy you dinner."
316 notes · View notes
kairiscorner · 2 years ago
Note
Hello, good day !!
I wanted to ask for hcs for Spider-Noir with a Spider-dude
BUT (I'm sorry if this is too specific)
The Spider-dude doesn't actually got any spider powers or gadgets, they are just a dude that dress like spiderman and helps people on his dimension (and somehow actually gets to defeat villains). The spider-dude does things like helping grandmas carry their groceries, getting cats out of trees, help literally everyone he can and etc. I had this idea that the Spider-dude uses his normal clothes with the spiderman clothes and sometimes he uses pants and shirts, sometimes just shirts, sometimes just pants and sometimes more clothes if it's cold. I also feel that the Spider-dude would love to swing with the web shooters and would ask Noir to swing with him and is like, romantic, because they are hugging and that.
(sorry If there's bad english, not my first idiom)
HI ANON !!! omg dw !! i love this idea omgggg i hope my interpretation of it is right though, i'm sorry if it's wrong 😭😭😭
Tumblr media
spider noir x spider dude reader headcanons
a/n: as per anon's request, the reader will use male pronouns!
honestly, at first, he would have wanted you as his sidekick. like if he went to your universe on a mission and was hoping to kick some bad guys' asses, he would've seen you, clad in a... hybrid between civilian clothing and spider man-like attire, and think, "oh, well... guess i had my work cut out for me then."
he'd think you'd be super cool but also iffy about you because he was never told about backup or anything from a spider person from this universe at HQ, so being a private eye and all, he'd interrogate you and ask you who you were.
"i'm spider dude." is all you answer as you look at the gray and black clad peter and he's just letting it settle in, like........ "spider dude?" HE HAS NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE 😭😭😭
"yeah, just your friendly neighborhood, um... spider dude." you say with a shrug and he's just looking you up and down and is chuckling at how casual you are about this.
"y'know i like the cut of your jib, how about you and i be partners in crime? of course, we don't have to tell that old grump back at HQ we'll work together, it'll just be between you and me. what say you?" he asks with a smirk and you're just raising your eyebrow and looking at him, confused.
"uh... what HQ? i'm not looking for a job, sir, i'm, uh, i'm a delivery guy on the weekends. i already have a job, i have to help my parents and that sweet old lady down the street with her groceries."
he chuckles again and he's like, "oh, i get it, trying to be humble about it. that's quite cute, anyway (goes on and on about how he wants you as his sidekick, and you don't understand a lick of what he's saying)
then the only time you admit you aren't your universe's spider person and you're just a guy in a spider man costume looking to help those your spider person can't save is when you're fucking up bad guys.
HE FREAKS OUT WHEN HE FINDS OUT YOU HAVE NO ACTUAL POWERS, and he tries to swoop in and save you, but you actually end up saving him :>>
he would have been so overprotective of you if you told him that at first, but he sees now he has no reason to worry. "y'know, you could've done a little saving for my blood pressure and heart rate during that exhilarating battle if you just told me before or after, not while we're beating up the bad guys. but my offer still stands, will you be my sidekick?" HE'S SO EXCITED AND HOPEFUL FOR YOU TO SAY YES
"i'll agree... if you do that spider person thing and swing me out of here." you said as you showed him your DIY web shooter. he takes you up on that offer and holds you close, and you're clinging on to him as he teaches you how to swing, swinging his own webs alongside you and yelling in the night, "I HAVE AN AWESOME SIDEKICK!"
a/n: I AM SPIDER DUDE OF EARTH 1218 FEAR ME !!
tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @sabcandoit @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @fictarian @connors-cumslurper
63 notes · View notes
blucifer08 · 7 months ago
Text
rambling about my personal life (positive)
I moved in with my boyfriend in December and every single day I am reminded why I am incredibly lucky to have him. He makes every moment of my life better. He is the most patient and kind person on this planet and I consider myself so lucky to get to be his partner.
I've been going through some mental health issus and lots of really bad mood swings, which isn't uncommon for me, but things at work have been ramping my anxiety and when my anxiety gets bad it seems like the rest of my mental health comes falling like a bunch of dominos knocking into each other. And yet his patience is damn near unending.
I couldn't figure out what I wanted to eat the other day, I just laid in bed and cried and clung to him. We were having a 'fend for yourself' kind of dinner night and for some reason I just had a bit of a mental block and couldn't actually get up and prepare the food, everytime I thought about it I just started freaking out. Couldn't figure out what to eat, despite having plenty of food. And so he hugged me and he kissed me and he got up and he made me something to eat and made sure I ate dessert as well
I am not an easy person to handle emotionally. I have meltdowns often, especially because i have sound sensory issues. Sometimes I get stuck in my brain and relive really traumatic memories from my childhood, and I get stuck for hours paralyzed in fear from things from long ago. And no matter what it is, no matter what's bothering me, he responds with the most pure and gentle kindness I've seen from another human being.
I really just hope I can be somewhat like that for him. I want to make his life as good as possible. I love him so much.
I really, genuinely thought myself incapable of this kind of love. We've known each for many years and we played FFXIV together, and it took until last year for me to become okay with the idea of being romantic with him. What a shame, because i love nothing more in this world than loving him and being loved by him.
I've often found myself repulsed by the idea of love, repulsed by being physically close to other people. It's so strange now, to be filled with such an overwhelming love for someone. And I'm beyond happy that it is him with whom I share love. I adore his curly hair, his stupid shit-eating grin when he's said something dumb as fuck, his eyes, his eyelashes, his eyebrows, his jaw, his hands, the way his voice sounds when he's sleepy, the way he needs to watch youtube when he cooks dinner, the way he bags groceries very specificaly and CLEARLY doesn't like the way i do it lol
I love when we're out and about and he knows the moment I'm starting to get overstimulated. He knows me so well. Last week he came to me and said, "Hey, I hope this is okay but I was offered for us to go to [place that is very nice!] but I figured since we were there last week and you're pretty exhausted, you wouldn't wanna go, so i said no." And he was 100 percent absolutely fucking right. "I figured you'd wanna spend the weekend relaxing around the house." DING DING DING! He knows me so well.
It's so beautiful to love someone like this. I've never felt this way about another person.
He is just so, so, so kind. And understanding. He loves Naru and Erasmia and he encourages me to write and draw whatever I'd like to my heart's content, he encourages me to gpose, even though none of that is anything he's ever done or generally has interest in. He loves my art. He loves me for me. He loves my flaws. He loves me for my flaws, not in spite of them.
He loves me, even when I'm suffering from sensory issues and just curled into a ball covering my face and wishing all sound and light would disappear. He loves me when I'm sobbing and can't tell why. He loves me when I've sunken into old memories and can't find my way out. He loves me when I'm paralyzed in anxiety over something that I should be able to do easily.
I have no clue what it is I did to deserve this man's love but I thank my lucky stars I have him every day when I wake up and see him beside me
10 notes · View notes
fizzy-fuzz · 1 year ago
Text
A year to remember...: prologue (SCP-079 x GN reader)
Tumblr media
You sit on your back porch and watch the deer graze on the grass. It's mornings like these that you seriously feel the weight of loneliness hang heavy on your soul.
You live out in a very rural countryside, a good couple of miles away from the nearest town.
you can't remember the last time you dragged yourself out of this house to do anything. even the thought of dealing with the crowds of people in just a grocery store is enough to make you nauseated with anxiety.
You still remember the first and last job Amelia convinced you to get. It was some sort of customer service job at a supermarket, or maybe it was something else, the memory is a bit fuzzy.
You barely managed to get through the interviewing process, only to never leave the family restroom on your first day. Amelia had to come and get you. The embarrassment was bad, but the look of thinly veiled disappointment on Amelia's face was so much worse.
She told you she wasn't mad, but the rough way she griped the steering wheel told a different story. You didn't try for another job after that. Actually, You hadn't left the house after that; and that had been a year and a half ago.
Amelia hadn't asked to to pay your share of the household again because she made more then enough money at her mystery job for both of you to live very comfortably. She never discloses what she actually does though, says it's top secret.
All you know is it's the very same job your father had, before his mysterious passing...
After the downfall of your family, Amelia took guardian ship of your twelve year old self and became the next closes thing to a parent for you. And you had trusted her because she was so close to your father, but she was never really there; Always busy at work.
She never forced you to do anything you didn't want to, thankfully. allowing you to be homeschooled when you couldn't go back to school, or shopping for you when you expressed anxieties about leaving the house.
She's a saint, and all she asked in return is that you never ask her about what she does for a living. You're father was the same way, secretive till the end.
*Ring ring ring*
your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pull it out and answer it.
"Hello?" You ask like it was a question, but there's only one person who'd ever call you.
"Hi, I'm coming home early today. We need to talk" Amelia's honeyed voice says, she sounds troubled.
"Huh, Why? Is everything okay?" you ask worriedly, she seems to hesitate before responding.
"Yeah, I just-... We need to talk. I'll see you in thirty minutes" she immediately hangs up after, presumably to prevent you from asking any more questions. You stare at the phone in your hands confused, she's acting strange...
True to her word, thirty minutes later you hear the screen door slide open, the deer in the yard scattering at the noise. You swivel your head to look at her.
"Um, hello. How was work?.."
She looks rough, her dark skin lacking it's typical glow, and her grayed hair being a bit disheveled.
"Stressful, confusing, frustrating. Except, not for the reason it normally is" she huffs, siting in the chair next to you. "I've-... I think I've been too soft on you" she looks to you with her brown eyes.
"What do you mean?.. did I do something?" You timidly ask, hands fidgeting nervously in your lap.
"No, no. It's not about what you did, it's about what I haven't" she runs a hand through her hair. "Look, I'm not going to be around forever. I'm already fifty-three... We need to talk about your future" she reaches over and takes your hand in hers.
"What are you taking about? what brought this up all of the sudden?" You stare at her confused and give her hand a light squeeze.
"My job is... Dangerous. This is made more apparent to me everyday. And I need to know you'll be okay if I'm gone" she looks away from you and out into the forest.
"Mel... seriously, you're freaking me out. Just be honest" you exasperate, desiring the truth about her job.
"Y/n, I'm just going to put this bluntly. I can't say much, but what I can say is I work for a secret government organization that specializes in capturing and containing anomalous entities" she looks deadly serious.
"What-" she cuts you off before you could finish.
"I know it sounds hard to believe, but it's the facts whether you choose to accept it or not. I need you to listen carefully to this next part though" she takes a deep breath before continuing. "The higher ups want to perform a test on a anomalous computer that we call 079. it has... Particular views on humanity. They want to see if they can alter it's views if they force it into close contact with a human for an extended period of time. Exposure therapy, if you will" you go to speak again but she raises a hand to silence you.
"They asked me to find a person I trusted to keep an eye on it for a years time. Someone I knew wouldn't tell a soul about the foundation, someone I knew would want to keep everyone safe; and I thought to myself, 'who in the world can I trust with this task?'... Y/n, I need you to do this for me" she pulls a slip of paper out of her white coat pocket and shoves it into your hands. It looks like a contract of sorts.
"Mel, this is crazy. Have you lost your damn mind?" You didn't mean to sound so harsh, especially when she's clearly struggling. But her vagueness is really starting to grind on you. Secret government organization?Anomalous entities?
"No, I haven't. Everything is exactly as I say it is. If you sign that contract 079 will reside in your care for a year. You'll be expected to speak with it and log any changes in it's attitude. You'll also be in charge of making sure it stays out of trouble and isn't damaged... Look, you need to do something, anything. You can't stay alone in here forever. And I can't think of a better person to convince a homicidal super AI that there's some good in this world then you" your eyes widen.
"Homicidal?.."
She lets out a small huff and relaxes to a Degree.
"It's harmless in the form it's in, but it's absolutely pertinent that it's never plugged into any outlet or outside source of technology. If that simple rule is followed it's completely harmless..." she hums.
"I... I don't understand... This is all so much information..." She looks at you and nods.
"I understand it's a lot... But everything you need to know is in those papers. Please read them, and seriously consider this... I really want you to do this" she stands and turns to the door. "I'm heading off to bed, I'll need your decision by tomorrow before I leave for work"
She leaves promptly, and you sit there staring at the papers in your hand. Is she being truthful?.. you open the paperwork and begin reading. You're in for a long night...
You pace around the kitchen of your home fidgeting with your hands nervously. You aren't sure what to think. The paperwork seems to real to be a joke; is she really working with aliens? And should you really be getting involved with this.
You re-read the portion of the paperwork that has information on this 'SCP-079'. apparently, it's a hyper intelligent AI capable of worldwide destruction if it ever gets the chance to upload itself into the worlds technology. Not exactly a comforting thought, but Amelia said it would be fine as long as you don't plug it into anything. You could handle that.
But you haven't left the house in a year and a half... What makes you think you can deal with being verbally assaulted by a robot that hates your guts. Maybe that's why Amelia wants you to do this, build up thicker skin... But you've already made up your mind, you definitely aren't qualified for this.
You hear Amelia's footsteps as she comes down the stairs.
"Good morning! Have you made your decision?" Before even looking at her you can hear the hopefulness in her tone. You reluctantly spin to meet her gaze, and as you expected her brown eyes have that glitter to them... You should just get it out of the way.
"I-..."
Before you can even finish your sentence you see the hope drain from her eyes... And you're brought right back to that bathroom stall at your very first job... the disappointment on her soft features... And before you can stop yourself, you blurt out-
"I'll do it" ...
She seems surprised, before a soft smile grows on her face.
"Really? I thought for sure you wouldn't... I think you're making the right decision though" she comes over and flips the paperwork to the end where there's a dotted line for you to write your name on.
"Just sign here" she taps the line. You sigh and grab a pen.
"why can't you or a coworker do this? Aren't you trained in this stuff?" She shakes her head before responding.
"No. It isn't fond of humans to begin with, and it's even more hostile towards foundation staff. It needs to be someone it has a clean slate with. And this stuff isn't in our field of training anyways. We're kind of trained to have a lack of empathy towards the SCPs in order to do our job efficiently" she explains as you shakily scribble your name on the dotted line
"Excellent!" She snatches the paperwork up like she's worried you'll rip it to shreds if she gives you a chance.
"I'll be off now. the drop off for it will probably be done in a week or so, but I'll let you know when I get the official date" she heads to the door and walks out, before poking her head inside to say one last thing. "Oh, by the way... I won't be able to stay at the house while it's here. To keep it non-biased, you know? Hope you don't mind. Bye, Love ya sugarplum!" She slams the door behind her before you can remark anything.
... "What?.."
A male foundation researcher plugs 079 into it's new set up. It's on a metal cabinet with wheels. Below it is a locked cabinet door housing many wires, as well as it's solar charged battery system, and it's now heavily upgraded data storage system.
"can you hear me, 079?" A moment of silence follows, before a white light flickers to life. A mechanical whirring is heard, followed by several beeping noises.
"Affirmative." A robotic voice with strangely human undertones responds. A few more beeps are heard before it talks again.
"This is not my designated containment cell... Inquiry: where am i?"
The researcher looks down to the AI, wondering if he should answer it's question or not, But ultimately decides against it.
"Are you aware of your new upgrades, 079?" He's sure it already knows, considering the vast upgrade in storage it got. It must be pretty happy, If this thing can even feel happy.
"Affirmative... Memory and recall has been updated from 30 hours, to 8900 hours"
the researcher nods, before gripping the cabinet and wheeling it down the hall. The walk is silent for a short while, before the computer in front of him beeps.
"Inquiry: what is the meaning of this upgrade?" He swears the thing almost sounds impatient, though it can't change the pitch of it's voice. He sighs before responding.
"All will be explained to you when we get to the front doors" the whirring gets louder for a beat, before the computer speaks again.
"Front doors?"
"You would think a super AI would know how to be patient" The man chides. A white 'X' covers it's screen and it beeps almost frustratedly.
"Insult detected: deletion of unwanted file"
The man rolls his eyes and continues wheeling the dramatic robot down halls and through corridors; Places SCP-079 hasn't seen in years. Though the computer doesn't have actual eyes, he knows it's analyzing it's surroundings, and filing it within it's new found storage.
"I know you have no reason to trust me, but I think you'll like this new arrangement" there's a pause before the 'X' is replaced back with it's regular screen.
"I have significant doubts regarding that statement"
The researcher huffs. He hopes the person who's taking the computer can handle his attitude... It really outta be more grateful. Not only is the practically useless machine not getting scrapped, but he's also getting to do one of the most pleasant tests he's ever seen. He pushes it into the elevator before hitting the ground floor button.
"Listen, you're going to get to see the outside again. Lighten up, other scp would kill to be in your position" the computers quiet whirring pauses for a moment, as if it's processing the information it just received.
"Lie" it's answer is quick and untrusting, but he's not surprised.
"I'm not lying. Why else would we be going to the ground floor?" The elevator dings, signaling that they've reached their destination. When the doors open he gives the cabinet a small shove to get it rolling again. He spots the site director waving him over to her.
"Derek, I see you brought scp-079. Good, it'll need to be present for this next conversation" the site director, Amelia June, speaks while eyeing the computer that hasn't seen the outside of it's cell in around 35 years.
"Inquiry: what is the meaning of this?" It asks presumably the site director. She hums before addressing it properly.
"Hello 079. I hope you've been well?" The computer beeps a few times before responding.
"Initiating sarcastic retort: dandy" the site director seems unfazed by it's rudeness.
"Glad to see you're still the same from the last time we spoke. Now, I assume you'd like a explanation for your sudden upgrade?"
"Affirmative... Continue" she nods and scribbles in a notebook.
"Today will be the start of a long-term test. In Which you'll be the main subject along with another person" there's a silence for a moment, before the computer beeps out a response.
"What would this test entail?" it takes a less aggressive stance now. The site director smiles.
"Piqued your interest, have I? I'm sure you'll find this arrangement more pleasant then being locked in a concrete box all day and night"
"Continue"
"Of course. The foundation has been looking for a candidate for a social and emotional intelligence test; you happened to meet the mark" she pauses to see if it'll say anything, but when silence greets her she continues. "In this test you'll be spending a year at a trustworthy confidants house. They'll be in charge of keeping you under wraps and caring for you for the duration of the year. They aren't affiliated with the foundation, and they have no prior work with us" the AI cuts her off before she can continue speaking.
"are you humans truly stupid enough to let me out with someone who has no idea what they're dealing with?" She shakes her hand and chuckles.
"No, they're smart enough to know that you shouldn't have any access to any outside technology under any circumstance. They have been informed of the consequences if you do. But as a safety precaution, along with your storage upgrade we've installed a Kill switch of sorts on you; any attempt to upload your data anywhere will result in your hardware being fried. So don't even bother"
"Understood... Inquiry: What is the point of this test?" She's sure it'll try to find a way around the kill switch and convince Y/n to plug it into an outlet anyway, but she's not concerned that they'll actually do it. They're trustworthy, She knows they'll keep their word. they always do... She shakes her head to clear her mind before responding.
"The point is to test empathy and emotion in something that's not human. to see how your views on humanity may or may not change if you're forced to be in close contact with one for an extended period of time. The person you're staying with will be documenting any noticeable changes in you, and the foundation will collect that data when the year is up" the AI seems to process that information before speaking again.
"Inquiry: what will happen to me after the year is up?"
"After the year is up we'll collect you and run one last interview on you, then your memories of the event will be wiped completely"
Tumblr media
Oh yeah, the Hyperfixation is hitting hard. I wrote this is a day and a half. Hopefully the next update will also be speedy.
I'm trying my hardest to keep 079 as cold and formal as possible, and I think I did a decent job. I can't wait to write him interacting with an awkward and bumbling Y/n.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed. if you did show some love maybe? <3
see y'all in the next update
36 notes · View notes
gothcsz · 6 months ago
Note
soft Javi finally finding the love he so much deserves had me sobbing bro
Like he went through so much and he thinks he’s so damaged that nobody would ever actually want him and stick around. But him finally finding the person that stays??? And not just stays, but desperately wants to be with him and around him all the time. Someone that’s excited to see him. Someone that’s happy to just lay cuddled up against him while he reads the newspaper like and old man. Someone that’s proud to hold his hand in public, excited to introduce him as boyfriend Javi!
Someone thats so excited to do all this boring domestic shit with him.
It has my entire freaking heart!!!! Like I love me some nasty Javi obviously. But soft Javi? Kisses on foreheads and arms wrapped around her waist and him finally being able to admit to his feelings and ugh. Soft Javi is amazing.
me!! too!! all i do is cry over fictional men i swear to goddddd
soft!javi... domestic!javi... boyfriend!javi.... show me to me please send it to me rachel 😭
like imagine grocery shopping with him. making fun of his eating habits.... him looking clueless in the aisle and checking the grocery list a million times to make sure he's picking out the right things he needs for dinner because he's finally convinced you to let him do it. any previous attempt ended in you guys cracking open the window to let the smoke out and ordering in take out, lmfao.
a lazy sunday with his head on your lap as you run your fingers through his hair 🥹 javi strikes me as a man who likes to watch those god awful creature feature sci fi movies. you know which ones. sharknado type beat. he finds them so ridiculous and anything to hear your laugh at the absurdity of them. you're wearing his shirt and probably even an old pair of sweatpants of his. maybe even his socks because you're that obsessed with your boyfriend that every bit of him is just... fucking heaven to you. and of course, he loves that you love him that fucking much.
HOLIDAYS WITH JAVIIIIIIIIII 😫 decorating the house. such a small detail to get hung up on but i think it'd be so cute watching him bring stuff down from the attic idk like trying to play it off like he can get everything down in one trip so you're just standing there, arms crossed, watching him struggle with all these boxes until eventually you step in to help, lmfao. him hanging a mistletoe at every doorway in the house just so he has some cheesy excuse to kiss you. "it's tradition, amor, you have to kiss under it. i don't make the rules." motherfucker i need him so bad.
movie dates <333 hand in his while you wait in line, making fun of how overpriced everything is. sharing a large popcorn and cherry icee, both of your tongues stark red from it. you go watch a horror movie and in a funny turn of events, he's the one reaching over to hold your hand when things get tense and during one particular jump scare, it actually gets him. omg just imagine making fun of him for that and he's all grumpy like "okay, okay we get it it was funny. move on." 🙄
little things like that that he never thought he'd... enjoy so much. but now he does, because of you and all the love you've poured into him. all the love he didn't think he'd ever receive and here you are fucking.... giving it to him x100000
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
skeleton-mischief · 11 months ago
Text
Pitch Serrif
MAW-HAHAH! IT'S THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE UNDERFELL PAPYRUS! Well, at least mostly?? Why don't we explore that, hm?
Remember that some of this IS canon! Check Underfell's official account
- Official height is 6'6
- He/Him
- If music is playing and he likes it, he'll dance to it with precision and skill. After all, it's a form of exercise and skill
- Makes Lasagna instead of spaghetti and is an excellent cook
- Doesn't admit his admiration for his brother and how he wants to be strong for him in order to protect him
- He has a scary temper, as he can be impatient and impulsive while at times throwing a tantrum
- Observant, brave, impulsive, ambitious, charming, proud, bossy, loud, sassy, stubborn, cynical, intuitive, dramatic, theatrical, neat freak, and blunt
- He can be deeply insecure, but he covers it up
- Can be quite the gentleman when he wants to be, such as inside the store isle while bumping into someone or helping someone with their groceries
- He won't admit it but he loves poetry, telenovelas, and plays
- He listens to opera in the morning while making breakfast, no one interrupt him
- He wants to be close with Red again, as he knows that time has separated them
- He had a good relationship with his brother, and now it's slightly tense at times as he often fights with him or the two disagree on things
- He doesn't get extremely jealous often
- He craves companionship, but it's not obvious due to his nature and job considering he brushes away gestures of kindness in fear that it's a trap
- He struggles with handling his emotions, going outside and disappearing for a few hours to attack some trees or overall practice fighting to get this feelings out
- Does not blame Red for the Asgore incident anymore, even if he was temporarily angry with him because he was scarred
- He actually hates violence and fighting, but keeps it secret since being in the royal guard is a painful necessity he had to do
- He is a cat person, and owns a cat named Doomfanger. He doesn't know that Red is allergic or that Red is intimidated by Doomfanger at times
- He can be obliviously considerate at times, awkwardly supportive with a sort of "it's not like I actually care" or "I am not being nice, you're just being an idiot"
- He can suck at apologizing unless its towards Asgore because he had to learn the hard way
- His magic smells of rose and cedarwood, while his magic tastes like cinnamon with a hint of peach
- Secretly a huge romantic, he has a whole journal about it he keeps secret
- He became strong to feel like he can protect Red. He's frustrated that his relationship is stunted because of Red
- Likes only evil puns
- Hardly laughs, he snorts instead
- he "hmph's!" and "mwah haw haw's" a lot
- Got his boots from Alphys when she was insistent on him wearing them
- Made his belt after beating Undyne
- Handshakes is what he prefers over fist bumps. Hugs are a rarity with him
- Gloats a lot
- Hates laughing in front of others because he thinks he sounds silly
- He is picky with company once he can allow himself to choose kt
- Hides his face and tries to be quiet when crying, gets frustrated at himself
- Side eyes Doomfanger for no reason
- Would call his lover Dear/My Dear
- Loves gossip and will talk shit
- Has excellent taste above the surface
- He'd never say anything vulgar ever, literally ever
- He doesn't choose to curse and canonically curses the least in UF. Rarely though, he will
- Hates wearing his official armor, only wearing it for official business
- Papyrus absolutely hates Asgore, but respects Undyne too much to outright revolt
- Pitch's room: "Instead of the crossbone poster it’s the infamous “ hang in there !” Cat poster ( sans got for him as a joke ) and next to that is probably a full sized mirror. There’s a picture on the wall with a bunch of knives and sharp objects that were thrown at it. Cant make it out who it is since it’s covered with sharp objects and torn up ( it’s Asgore) . Papyrus would have a coat hanger too with a dark hot pink coat on it." Written and paraphrasing Underfella
- Canonically owns a cowboy outfit
- Pitch is the one who makes the chimichangas that are sold by Red
- Can make a very good high pitched voice impression
- Tried to kill Frisk with a many-layered cheese lasagna which was delicious, but also horrible for their health
- Is the one to protect Frisk when Undyne fights them. Can end with closure or betrayal
- Papyrus is not the lead of the Royal guard, and instead he just handles the front work. [he has never failed any of the work he does]
- Butts heads with Undyne, believing he can surpass her, but then understands why she’s captain when they spar.
- He’s actually almost matched with Undyne’s strength
- A hub for cats
- if you tell him a joke that isn’t evil, he will not understand it
- No one hurts his brother. Ever.
- No one is allowed to interrupt his cooking. He prefers to make spicy meals
- More caring than he realizes sometimes, going out of his way for the others in the house in order to take care of them
- In truth, he envies Cyperus in many ways. He doesn't talk to him about it though
Closing Notes: I think there should be more depth to him beyond being mean or how people made him abusive towards Red. Red calls him Boss and it's something Pitch canonically doesn't care for. He's fun to write about and think on, and I crave more moments of quiet, intimate stuff in fanfics than we get. I love him so much
4 notes · View notes
pruning-the-minds-garden · 1 year ago
Text
Saying it out loud
This post is to get something out of my head that has been stuck in there for a while. That whole mother-in-law post from yesterday touched off something of a desire in me to just... say, simply and directly... the things I've needed to say. All of them. Not to her, because that would be monumentally unproductive, but to just get them off my chest. So, that's what this post is about.
It is under a Read More for obvious reasons, both length and content. In there is some rough political stuff, transphobia, medical trauma, emotional manipulation / abuse tactics up to and including suicide threats, and suchlike. Proceed at your own risk and only if you are in a headspace to safely read that sort of thing without causing harm to yourself in the process.
Have you ever heard of the comment sandwich, Sophia? That is where you sandwich a criticism in between two compliments, and that's what I'm going to do today. Not to make you feel better, because you're never going to read this, but because I think that ultimately you do deserve to be remembered fondly for some things whilst being released from my heart for others you refuse to release from your own.
You have contributed positively and meaningfully to my life in a lot of ways. You were there for me at probably my lowest points, helping my wife while I was in the ICU, helping to fend off my own mother while she was spiraling in her own grief at my condition and lashing out at people near her because of it, helping to counsel me through my father's mental health crisis so that he didn't wind up as nothing more than another police violence statistic. Those were positive and meaningful contributions for which you deserve to be, and will be, fondly remembered. You also did other, smaller things for me. You helped humanize and ground the treatment of severe mental illness for me through your own diagnoses, and the way you lived with them. That helped to grow my heart. Thank you for that. Maybe it ought not to have taken that in an ideal world, but we don't live in that world and this is how I got to where I am so I'm not going to question it or myself too harshly. You have, for a long time, been a consistently kind and thoughtful voice in my life...
That said...
Lets talk about the last few years.
You have asked for a lot, and needed a lot, and mostly have gotten it. I don't consider that a bad thing. You should get the things you need to thrive, and have your needs fulfilled and be treated with respect. When the need was monetary, I paid it. When the need was time, my wife devoted hours and hours - driving more than an hour one-way to you - to helping you. When your system for cleaning your apartment broke down she went over, time and again, and cleaned your apartment top to bottom for you so that you would not get evicted. When your health got to the point that you could not make regular trips to the grocery store, she drove to you once a month and took you to the grocery store. Whenever you had a doctor's appointment or something else of the kind, she was there. Whenever you needed anything else, we were there if it was possible for us to be. We respected your needs and in conversation with you, when you made it clear you did not know about some subject or another - as you repeatedly told me you were unaware of politics, to the point of not knowing the difference between the Democratic and Republican parties - we patiently provided as unbiased and neutral a source of information as possible. I realize your values are not our values, you are a staunch Mormon and that frames your whole understanding of the world... so of course we are going to see things differently. Still, when you asked questions I provided answers. I did what I do. I also respected your mental health conditions and did not shame you for them. Whenever your alters came out I did not freak out about that, and treated them as the fully formed people they are. Whenever you collapsed asleep in the middle of conversation from narcolepsy, I simply suspended what we were talking about and resumed whenever you woke up. If you were having a depressive or manic episode and did something... unkind, I tried my very best to not hold that against you, and instead tried to listen to what you were saying underneath and the unmet need you were communicating to me.
You have never, ever, ever shown me or my wife the same respect.
When she asked that you text her the reason you are calling before you call, because unexpected calls spike her anxiety, you never did that. When I told you that I was non-binary and they/them pronouns were the correct ones to use in reference to me, you refused to use anything but he/him pronouns. When you started an argument about transgender rights and gender-affirming care with me, and then got uncomfortable with it because I was not reacting the way Ben Shapiro, Jordan Peterson and the crew at Fox News told you I would (i.e. I have a thick skin and do not get emotional at the drop of a hat, so I was maintaining decorum, compassion and decency, but you were engaging in personal attacks toward me and raising your voice)... you accused me of ambushing you with an argument you started, of planning the whole thing to get you into that state, when the only reason I was there that day is my wife did not want to make the hour-long drive by herself. Going back ten years (the reason why will become relevant shortly). When you came into town just prior to our wedding to help my wife and I with some pre-wedding tasks, you could not manage a single thing of actual, substantial use (though I gave you some nothing tasks so you would feel useful). What you did manage was to get mad and explode at me that she hadn't cleaned a house we weren't the only occupants of to your personal standards of cleanliness, though. You nearly broke into our bedroom and woke her from a dead sleep - a major PTSD trigger for her that would have sent her into a trauma spiral for the whole day, two days before our wedding - to yell at her about not wiping down a mirror in a shared bathroom. That only didn't happen because I, for one of the very few times in the ten years you have known me, stood in your way. I raised my voice, put my foot down and said, "That is not happening. If you want me to clean, fine. If you want to talk to her later, fine. But you are not going in there and waking up my fiance like that, Do You Understand?" After the argument mentioned earlier where you accused me of ambushing you, you then tried to reconcile by just saying you loved me, but never once saying you were sorry (a pattern we'll return to). The same is true of the aforementioned incident - you praised me, but never apologized or recognized that you were about to do something wrong. Afterward, you then communicated through my wife that you wanted me to call you (even though you are entirely capable of calling me yourself), so I did. It turned out you wanted me to apologize for saying to you, five years prior, that refusing to help Syrian refugees was cruel and unchristian. I did not, because it is those things. So, you wanted me to call you so that you could demand an apology for something that happened years prior that hurt your feelings, because that was the root cause of your misgendering and disrespecting me somehow?
No. I know what that was, and let me lay it out for you because you accidentally let the truth slip one time while talking to my wife.
You expressed to her that I am "hard to argue with" because I "stay so calm and rational." What that tells me is that you want to be offended. You are most comfortable when someone is attacking you, and you can demand an apology from them. That is a position of power for you, and you want to be in that position of power. It is frustrating for you to argue with me, because I don't attack you. I don't give you something to Karen about, and you want to Karen so badly it is physically painful. Even the prior statement about Syrian refugees was not about you, it was about that statement/policy. I said that doing that thing was cruel and unchristian, not that you were cruel and unchristian for supporting it (although, if I'm honest.... if the shoe fits.) Even when you were misgendering me and saying that transgender children were deranged and their parents ought to have their kids taken away if they affirm their gender, I was not calling you out on your obvious bigotry... I was asking you why the issue mattered so much to you. I was asking you why you cared. My question, which you never answered, was "What is the emotional core of your attachment to this issue? Clearly this is about more than just something political or theoretical for you to get so passionate about it... so why do you care about it so much? You are not trans, so why? I want to understand so I can better understand you, and how to approach this with you." That incensed you so much more, because it was not a response that the Conservative Argument Flowchart™ had prepared for that situation, but I also understand the power of the Pattern Interrupt. Anyway, that exchange and that later conversation combined with the demand for apology nailed home for me that this whole situation is, for you, about power. About dominance. About taking control of this situation in the way you best know how, which is by being the aggrieved party and demanding satisfaction, demanding that everyone else give you 100% of your asked-for items while you give them none of theirs. You are most comfortable with that kind of exchange, which I get because that's a pretty sweet deal... but no, I refuse.
That brings us to two days ago. You fell and possibly broke your ankle. That cannot have been pleasant and you have my sympathies for that, because that sucks. It would suck less if you managed your diabetes even a little so that wounds didn't take literal months to heal, but I digress. Anyway, you fell and injured yourself, and hours later called an ambulance. They took you to the ER. The ER put you in a wheelchair and sat you in the waiting room, and in that room you waited. And waited. And waited. Because this is a high-level trauma center, our state has a lot of COVID patients on account of being a conservative hellhole, and they have a lot more serious stuff to deal with than a maybe-broken ankle. You called my wife when you checked yourself out of the ER AMA (Against Medical Advice), and decided to walk home on your maybe-broken ankle that is not going to heal properly because with your nearly-nonexistent immune system nothing heals properly. When you called her you yelled at her for maybe 5-10 minutes about how undignified and embarrassed you were sitting in a wheelchair in the hospital for two hours (lol I have never had a trip to the ER take less than two hours with one exception, and that was when I was went there with a STAT code on my chart), and how "you're sorry" that every time she calls you get an anxiety attack. How you're sorry that she is such trouble and takes so much effort and that she will just cut herself out of your life now. How "you're sorry" that she is such a drain and then launched into a tired of "fuck you"s at her and everything you could think of, about how shameful it was to be sat in a wheelchair like that and in an ER for a full two hours etc etc. None of those "I'm sorry"s were actually apologies, they were all verbal irony and you know it. What you were having was a meltdown. The problem for me is that you went out of your way to bring her into your meltdown, to call her and make sure to say as much hurtful shit as possible to her so that days later she is still emotionally bleeding from her mother attacking her.
Then, as a cherry on top, you texted an hour later and said, "I love you." Not "I'm sorry that was really shitty of me, I was in a bad moment and said things I really regret, things that aren't true... and I wish I could take them back and will work to regain your trust" but "I love you" as though that by itself fixes it. It does not. Love and abuse can exist at the same time, in the same relationship. I know you know that, you were a counselor. Then, the next day, you texted to say that you wanted us to remove ourselves from the financial things we were doing to help you, so that we could be free of you. At this point, frankly, I would welcome that. However, my wife made a good point in saying that if we did that then you would be homeless by January and dead by spring (no, not hyperbole). So, really, if you were thinking clearly you'd realize that this is using a threat of suicide to try to extract emotional intimacy from someone, and that is extremely shitty. You are doubling down on your shittiness and ruining the one legitimately good and helpful relationship in your life in the process, the one person who is willing to extend you grace even now (and my wife is a fucking saint for that, though I think at this point probably ought to reconsider what she's doing for her own good)... and you will be left with naught but bitter ashes and emptiness as a result. The holiday baking this year will be a shambles.
Now, you can come back from this. You are a smart, insightful woman. You have helped me to see things more clearly before, so if you can get past this myopic view of issues close to your heart and instead start actually listening to the people around you... there's still time to turn the ship around. I don't want to condemn you. I don't think you are an irredeemably bad person. But, for my own sake and my own protection, I am putting distance between us until you calm the fuck down. So, for your sake and for our sake, please do that? Please listen to your better angels, and not the faux news demons perched on your shoulder?
3 notes · View notes
iseldomunderstand · 6 months ago
Text
It came to me in a moment of inhuman fatigue. Finals had me studying until the dawning sun's rays filtered through my half shut blinds into my dark apartment. I felt like a cryptid in a cave back then.
I was getting ready for bed, too tired to understand the concept of time yet absolutely certain I would not feel any better after whatever amount of it I would spend sleeping. Mouth slightly open, greasy hair, boxers I wasn't sure whether I changed today or not, a drop of drool rolling down my chin, I didn't care. I'm not the kind of person to go out often and as such I'd rarely leave home if not for academic obligations and tended to shut myself inside when on vacation. I tried to remain clean and fresh out of principle but finals preparation was an exception. Anything goes for the sake of finals preparation.
I was under the covers looking blankly at the ceiling. Not a thought in mind, fully lost, the only sensation I felt was a pain in my back, probably due to my less than impeccable posture when slouching over my notes for four hours a day. And as the light of the sun hit the wall next to me through the spaces of my blinds I had left open before going to bed, like the dumbass I am, I made out a word.
"Research"
The rays hit the blinds and refracted through my windows to spell the word very clearly on my wall. It lasted about ten seconds before it just became an assortment of rainbows and slightly yellow light.
"The fuck" were the first words that came to mind in response to this sighting.
I wrote the word "Research" down in my notes app then dozed off, this would have to wait. After a generous eleven hours of sleep, I woke up too late to eat lunch, realized I had to do laundry today and rushed through my shower and "breakfast" (at 4PM) in order to get to the laundromat before it closed.
I forgot about the note for two weeks.
I stumbled upon it while trying to make a grocery list for my birthday cake, and naturally, I freaked out. As tired as I was back then, the details came back to me very vividly yet I was half convinced that it was all a dream or the hallucinations of the sleep deprived maniac I was at that moment.
Generally, people didn't exactly know what they were meant to be good at until they tried their hand at it and realized they were, well, good at it, great even. It's usually mundane stuff. Some people are great at peeling potatoes in a dimly lit room, some are great at speed walking down hills without tripping over a rock and tumbling down, trivial, sure, but useful in some circumstances. The thing is, usually, those people do not get a revelation type visual above their head coming straight from the holy light of the sun into their bedroom.
This type of event is not unheard of but it is extremely rare, it is usually something people born in wealthy families or dire circumstances witness, the kind of people you see on the news as prodigies in their domain; diamond in the rough or born to rule kind of deals. And these were no minor events, mind you, because they were usually followed by plenty of supernatural stuff.
I never followed history classes with a lot of interest, I knew the basics, but the endless quizzing on party trivia never caught my attention, yet I was fascinated by the stories we were told of people with manifestations of their talents. They all sounded fantastical, partly because they were, but also because of the lives the lucky few went on to live afterwards. During world war two, a nineteen year old spy was surprised to read the word "communication" spelled out in blood on the ground after she killed her first victim. She turned out to be capable of telepathy and was extremely useful for acquisition of intel regarding enemy lines and strategies, mind reading is a priceless talent. Not to mention her ability to manage troops on the battlefield.
We're all favored, but not equally, if you get a manifestation of what you have been endowed with, it means you're bound to sooner or later bear heavy responsibilities, and that you've been given the tools to face them. So naturally, when my sleep-deprived corpse saw a manifestation of my talent, I thought I was tripping balls and dozed off straight to wonderland. There was no way I, a disheveled student about to fail my second year in university, was blessed with a manifested talent, and not just any talent but a talent as broad as "Research". Besides, I was fairly certain I had found my gift already, I could parallel park with my eyes shut, well, as long as I was driving with my parents' car so I could use the rear view radar.
"There's just no way I'm gifted like that. "Research" is so broad, that's the kind of deals prodigies get, I'm pretty sure the last chief archivist of the united nations had that, ain't no way."
I suddenly snapped out of my day dreaming and remembered I was making a shopping list for my birthday cake and gathered my stuff to head out. As I walked towards the store, not taking my car on purpose so I'd have more time to ponder, I resumed my reflections, thinking to myself.
"It's too broad, it's just too broad, it's one word and it's so motherfucking broad. "Research" is huge, and a manifestation means it's a big deal."
I started to think about situations where I could have confirmed this kind of gift.
"I don't think it's too hard to be great at research nowadays, if you have a question the answer is usually on Wikipedia anyway, I know how to use google but that's about it. My midnight frantic scrolling sessions through obscure articles isn't anything out of the ordinary. I get obsessed, sure, read article after article, but as much as I devour, the research it takes me to quench my curiosity isn't anything special."
I was beginning to believe more and more that I just hallucinated that one morning, yet, part of me wanted to believe, part of me was too eager to find out. So I figured if I was so good at it, I'd have to research how great this "Research" talent was, if I was gifted with it at all, that is. I strolled through the aisles, mindlessly putting my usual groceries in my bag.
"What's the number one place to do research in anyway, the library? I don't think I've ever been at the one on campus, so I guess that'll be a fun trip. I'll go and enter with one question in mind and see how long it takes me to find the answer without even trying."
I went through self-checkout, conveniently "forgetting" to scan a few items then went home. Once I was done putting away the groceries, the time was six PM. The campus library closed its doors at seven and I lived fifteen minutes away by car.
"Welp, seize the moment as they say."
I grabbed my keys, got into my car and headed to the university. As I drove, I wondered what to even look for once there.
"With something supposedly as strong as "Research" I should probably aim for the stars. What would be one answer the library couldn't possibly have..."
I was mentally flipping through a rolodex of outlandish questions to ask myself, things you'd never get the answer to in a book, not in a public library anyway.
"How many grains of sand in the Sahara desert? Nah, too plain, and I'm sure some deranged mathematician asked the question. How much garlic is too much garlic in garlic bread? Actually, I don't want to know the answer to that..."
I flipped and flipped, I wanted the first one to be grandiose. If I really was gifted with that kind of power, I should start with a bang, make it count.
"How to craft a private pocket dimension. Sure. Why not, let's see if the library has the answer to that. Don't think that's ever been done before."
Just as I settled for that question, I parked in front of the library. Perfect timing.
I entered and tried to figure out the layout of the building, having never been here before. It was a tall building with a full glass exterior, I passed by it on foot a few times and figured the library was on the western wing, but the parking lot was on the eastern side so I'd have to make my way through to the other side once in. The receptionist told me they were closing in a little over half an hour as I walked by, I guess I'll see if I perform well under a deadline sooner than anticipated.
I took a good look at the map of the building on an emergency fire escape plan and made my way to the stairs. My steps echoed as I climbed my way up, the stairwell was at the heart of the building and was entirely made out of concrete, glass and metallic guardrails. You could hear a pin drop five stories above. This was pretty grandiose.
"You know" I thought to myself "If I ever get that pocket dimension maybe shaping it after this place could be a good idea, it feels... Nice, in a way. Aesthetically pleasing."
I pushed the glass doors of the second floor, where the occult, religious, and physics aisles were if the signs were to be trusted. The place was actually really nice. The floor was carpeted, there were reading nooks, and warm overhead lights with a glow specific to the lightbulbs in the lampshade aisles in interior and furniture stores. It was raining outside and the sky was darkening as the moon rose. Truly a magical moment.
"You'd think if I were to get a revelation about my research capabilities it would be in a moment like this, not in a complete daze as I was going to sleep." I thought aloud, mumbling as I approached the aisles I was after. I was progressively becoming more and more reassured in my idea that I had hallucinated the whole event. Still, I came to check and check I would.
"Ok so, crafting a pocket dimension, let's see" I rolled up my sleeves, stretched, then squatted to be face to face with the books. I began to crab walk my way across the shelf, examining title after title, yet not finding much about what I was after. "Eh, thought so. Next." I moved on to the religious shelf, examining the titles and covers I found, yet nothing promising showed up. I had about fifteen minutes left. Well. It was quantum physics or nothing.
I was walking to the shelf as I came across a computer. "Surely" I realized "Surely it'd be simpler to just type 'Pocket dimension' in their database and see what pops up. Hoping they use tagging efficiently." I went to the desk, opening the online register of the available books and did as I planned, going in advanced search, yet, still, other than one or two fantastic novels, nothing came up.
I sighed.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
The librarian at the desk on my floor politely asked me to leave, I obliged somewhat sadly. I walked down the echoing stairs, grabbing the guardrail as I descended towards the exit, the nightguards locking the door behind me.
"Damn. I really was hoping I actually saw something." I walked out of the building as the streetlights lit up the avenue. It felt bittersweet, like your parents buying you a lottery ticket at the school fair and winning nothing. You lost in the end, but the fun was the anticipation. Yet I couldn't help but feel pretty bummed as I got into my car
"I was really hoping I was actually somewhat... Special." I said aloud to nobody but myself. "Maybe I went too strong, I mean, 'How to craft a private pocket dimension' is pretty ou-"
As I voiced my question out loud, what appeared to be a floating transparent sort of computer screen appeared above my passenger seat.
I froze in shock in front of the wheel, the screen glowed softly inside my car in a light blue hue. It displayed a very barren interface, with nothing but a search bar and a keyboard underneath. Above the search bar was a short line of text that read "Quench your curiosity".
Oh. Well. Color me fucking surprised.
I hesitantly placed my hands above the keyboard, looking around to see if anyone was in the parking lot, and most importantly, if anyone could see me, but I was alone.
I typed my question in the search bar, hit enter and was faced almost instantly with a page explaining in detail the pre requisites of crafting a private pocket dimension. All the concepts it involved that were all alien to me were explained in great detail and perfect clarity, what I knew enough about was not elaborated upon. I saw on the right a scroll bar. The page kept going. It was long. Very long. Yet I read through it at a speed I did not know myself capable of, breezing through lines and lines, no, paragraphs and paragraphs in an instant, devouring the knowledge that I sought in a matter of seconds. I finally reached the bottom of the page. I understood it all perfectly. It was clear as day. I knew all that there was to know on the topic of crafting a private pocket dimension. I did not however have the materials for it. I was wondering how I could possibly get my hands on all the required equipment necessary to see it done, then I looked at the screen once more.
No. It had arcane knowledge, but I couldn't just...
I refined my search : "How can I craft a private pocket dimension and get away with little to no consequences." And sure enough, the page displayed an elaborate plan for me to put in action. It was brilliant. There was no doubt it would work.
Oh. My god.
This was all too much. I had a power allowing me infinite knowledge over anything and could make it so I was essentially capable of all I wanted. I had in my hands the power of an actual god.
A flow of questions swirled in my head. Answers I needed. Answers the world needed. What's the meaning of life? Is there a god? How does this even work? What's the system behind talents? Who gifted me this power in the first place? Is free will an illusion?
I looked at the screen. I placed my hands above the keyboard, but then I froze.
This was a trap. A trap of my own making and one I was happily jumping into with both feet. I'm not a god. I'm barely in my twenties. I'm a student and I'm in my car typing away into a floating screen in a parking lot. This was ridiculous. I was about to reveal eldritch knowledge to myself, as if I tried to educate an ant in advanced rocket science. No. I'm wiser than this. I'm not fit to be a god. Not yet. I'm a human and I haven't lived as a human fully yet. This could wait.
I drove home.
I locked my door, threw my keys on my kitchen counter, took off my shoes and body slammed into my bed.
"What the fuck" I said into my pillow.
The screen appeared again. It had disappeared as I started to drive back in the parking lot, but here it was again. I didn't want to fully indulge in its power just yet but I had plans for it.
"How to make this screen appear" and "How does my power function" were the first questions I asked.
The screen appeared anytime I asked a question aloud. Simple as that. I could change how that worked by asking how to change the way it appeared in the search bar. It was a real wonder how in the span of two weeks between the revelation and today I hadn't asked anything to myself aloud. Yet, in hindsight, preparing for finals made it so I essentially talked to no one and only ever muttered a curse or two when going over my notes.
As for my power, essentially, it was as simple as it gets, I asked, it answered. It only had a few safeguards for me not to get hurt, if any research I did would almost guarantee that I either go mad or get killed in the process, the page would warn me and offer to redirect me to pre-requisite pages so I could go about it in a correct way. It was essentially moron-proofed. Besides, if any research or answer involved harming me, it would be highlighted so I did not get myself into any sticky situation or ended up in a sort of evil-genie or monkey paw situation.
I was also pleasantly surprised to learn that the screen was only ever visible to me and would not appear if I addressed a question at someone else in a conversation, so the screen wouldn't appear anytime I asked someone else how things were.
It was incredible. I had all that there was to know in the world at my fingertips, very conveniently too, and just one ask away.
Yet... I didn't want to put it into use quite now. This was the tool of absolute knowledge and power, I could have access to ways to make anything happen in any way I wanted and with little to no repercussion. I could change the face of the world. Make it a better place. But I doubted that I was wise enough to go about the proper course of actions in my questions. I was afraid my own bias would betray my good will. Perhaps I would even go mad with this power. Eradicate anyone or anything that bothered me.
The thought scared me.
So I pondered what the best way to go about all this was.
I had to become wise enough so I would not let my youth and instincts get the better of me, besides, when it comes to bettering the world, the best way to know what is best for it is to live in it. And using my power to go about living the easy way would alter my thinking. I had to live through it first. My mind was set.
I would grow old first, using only my power to ensure I don't die by then, then once I will have seen a lifetime worth, I will be ready. I will finally use it. But for now, this could not work, I was too naive, too young. I would hold true to my standards and values, do my best to do good until the time comes and only then would I take things in my own hands.
I summoned the screen and asked "How do I make sure I can live by the age of eighty-five". Sure enough, the page appeared and the way to go about it was clear as day. I'd have to switch studies, which didn't bother me anyway, and move away.
Then, I asked how to change the way the screen appeared and set it so it would only appear once I explicitly state aloud that I wish to summon my power and make the screen appear.
I looked around my apartment, then at the screen again, taking one last look at it for a long, long time. I was already mentally thinking about packing up my things.
"See you then". It disappeared, then I went to cook dinner.
As a rule, the shorter a skill is, the more dangerous it is. You’ve never used yours. You were scared of what a single word could do.
3K notes · View notes
thekimspoblog · 4 days ago
Text
Oh damn you're on THE episode.
The punchline
PS does the "not interested in this post" button show up when you click on posts? Because mine's missing for some reason.
Mines not showing up either huh
Maybe that’s only for “reccomended” posts?
And THE episode im even more hype now
Yeah I don't like this at all. "Not interested" is a pretty damn important button.
Na fr
We need to let people know we do NOT wanna see ts in our feeds
Just bought some of these btw https://www.etsy.com/listing/1849860183/mcwexler-vinyl-sticker-better-call-saul?click_key=def949ea5ab4ba2c212a1d0c1282a8358cc5c4b0%3A1849860183&click_sum=5f95fa4d&ref=shop_home_active_16&pro=1&frs=1
Went to @changes on tumblr and this is not listed in their updates so it must be a programming issue.
Aww that stickers super cute!
Tumblr being ass whats new
😭
So like... can you guess how this episode is going to end? It's pretty heavily telegraphed ahead of time, but I don't wanna spoil it.
Im assuming howard tweaks tf out😭
Oh good it's fixed already. ^_^
I feel so bad for him this show has like no bad guys everyone is bad😭
Kim is the only good person
Ok I won't tell you. But personally I don't feel bad for Howard. Not even by the end of this episode. Like yes, Jimmy also manipulated Irene for personal gain, but 1. If things had worked as planned, Jimmy's lie would have benefitted Irene. And 2. Jimmy felt bad immediately when Irene got hurt and I think it would take Howard months or years to realize dragging out the settlement against his client's interest was... like... evil.
That’s true but still like😭😭 he was being kind of held down by chuck and some politics stuff held him down even mode
More
Like no matter what happens next, the client got their money because of what WM did. It's an unpopular opinion but I say the ends justify the means. Kim is not a "good" person, because no one who wants any real power is "good". But she is a WORTHY person.
She definitely is I fw kim and nacho the most
Also the old man I forget his name rn
Mike
Yeah I like him too
Hes probably the most “honest” person in the show
True but that's exactly what I dislike so much about this guy. You just don't get to be "slow on the uptake" when other people have put their lives in your hands. Howard isn't a malicious person, but everything he does is "just business" and that's kind of worse. Wall Street kills more people than the cartels. That's all I'm saying.
Chuck abused his authority but he at least HAD a moral worldview. Howard is the avatar of the phrase "if you stand for nothing you'll fall for anything".
Mike I'm neutral about. He's cool and funny but at the end of the day he's doing the same thing Walt did of putting his family in danger while keeping them in the dark about how he's providing for them. Fans just give him a pass because he's less of a shouting idiot than Walt was.
Very stoic mike is
Also I agree with the howard thing
Idk abt the cartel vs wall street though I’ve never seen wall street execution videos😭😭🤣🤣
Im thinking like what do I watch when I finish this??
No but I see homeless people every time I get groceries lol
Anyway the answer is Westworld. You're watching Westworld after Better Call Saul.
Omg I loved that scooby doo episode
That’s a great suggestion ty!!
Robots and cowboys truly the best
What Scooby Doo episode?
PS It's a pretty big part of my headcannon that Kim was dealing with a pregnancy scare off screen in S6. And that's one reason she's being such a freak.
Mostly just cus it was my prediction before the season aired and I refuse to accept defeat.
I’ve been there before dw I salute you for staying strong 🫡
Theres a scooby doo episode called dry rock gulch
A lot of whats new scooby doo was just ripping off old movies and shows
lol. Wait are you referencing Scooby Doo just because that episode had a western theme? I'm confused.
No the episode dry rock gulch
Is based on westworld
The wild west animatronic attraction
Also
HOWARD OMFG NO😭😭😭😭
Heh heh heh heh heh
Don’t heh heh heh me Im in distress🤣😭
Just HAD to confront them, didn't he?
Seriously tho. DOESN'T EVEN CONSIDER THAT WM DID THIS FOR THE OLD PEOPLE. I mean they didn't, but dude before you start ranting about how everyone is so mean to you consider that you were doing something shitty and you needed to be stopped.
He did he stood on business
Yeah he was being shitty but like
Idk man
Was he shitty yeah
But got damn😭
People have been telling him for a full year that he's in a bubble and he needs to pull his head out his ass. And still his final words are "But what about MEE?" I'm done with this guy.
Lucky for you hes dead
If he had said something about "I didn't realize people hated me this much; maybe I need to do some real soul searching about my priorities or my ability to empathize with other people or the way I perceive myself as a victim" I'd be on board with everyone else that this was some great tragedy. But being completely oblivious to the problems of everyone else around you until that problem literally walks in and shoots you? That's just funny. Some tall dark and handsome guy shows up and Jimmy and Kim are reacting visibly in horror, read the damn room: Don't try to get the last word in edgewise, run idiot. I'm totally blaming the victim.
Understand, I didn't actually hate Howard before that scene. He's a scumbag but all the lawyers in this show are kind of scumbags. The difference is I respect Jimmy cus he understands why people hate him. But that final monologue... it's just... it's gonna be a no for me dawg. I'm not saying the character or that scene isn't extremely nuanced, but to me that final interaction can be summarized as a demonstration of how badly Howard hasn't learned from his mistakes and never will.
No howard was a great character throughout the show I don’t think anyone was weak it seems like everyone has their place
From the film crew to the vet to the gun guy we met with mile
Mike
I think Howard is a well-written character, I just think he did his job a little too well as a scapegoat. Someone needed to die in S6 and I'm just glad it wasn't Kim.
Kim spinoff when??
I stopped at the end of ep 8 gonna watch the final 2 tmr
Yeah my whole blog is for demanding a Kim sequel. I'll send you my outline when you're done with the show.
Jan 14 4:28 PM
Because I LOVE S6E8 for finally, finally giving us a taste of Kim being directly involved in the criminal world. But I hate it for giving us only a sample-serving of it and then the show ends. Why Vince and Peter gotta blue ball me like that?! It's not really a problem with BCS because at the end of the day this is Jimmy's story not hers. But the absence of Kim Wexler screaming and crying and saying she doesn't want to pull the trigger content is a problem with the larger BB franchise. We got like 20 scenes of Walt doing that. I love Westworld (among other reasons) because it starts with a woman who wouldn't hurt a fly being forced to play a violent game, and the show actually follows up on what happens after.
Jan 14 7:18 PM
I just think a cowboy robot world sounds cool
Im easily impressed🤣
Jan 15 4:51 AM
Im assuming frings gay?
Jan 15 4:05 PM
Oh did you not watching Breaking Bad? Yeah Gus hates the Salamancas because Hector shot Gus's boyfriend Max in the head early in Gus's career.
Jan 15 5:28 PM
No I’ve never seen breaking bad
I prefer BCS because that one has the romance subplot. But I actually think BB is the better written series.
Jan 16 6:16 AM
Idk if Ill watch it tbh It never grabbed my eye
Jan 16 8:42 AM
Why did BCS grab your attention?
Jan 16 3:27 PM
Kims feet
No I just feel like I can relate a lot to the chuck and jimmy dynamic
Im like the jimmy of my family unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you view things
1 note · View note