Tumgik
#this is why I need a fucking therapist I swear on the name of every single god that I deny my worship I will kill every single fucking one
lovelesslittleloser · 11 months
Text
All my fucking tabs committed seppuku and now I’ve got to manually search for the coolest fucking fics I’ve ever read, like the fnaf/dbh crossover, the dbh fic where conner is just a psychopath, all of the new fics that I opened in new tabs because they sounded cool as shit but never got to read and know nothing about because it’s been WEEKS,
2 notes · View notes
urfavlarry · 5 months
Note
hihi! can i request a fic where the read is ben and aidens childhood friend and they both like the reader? like how would that go 🎀
Love triangle
Ben & Aiden x childhood friend!reader
warnings: swearing, bad grammar, brief mention of gagging
A/N: the texting part reminds me of a part from a book called call me by your name :0
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🎧🛹 ɞ˚‧。⋆
Your childhood was a wild one. Of course it was! You had Aiden in your childhood! He wasn’t always like that, and you knew. The same with Ben. One lost his sparkle and the other gained it. You couldn’t lie if someone asked if you were some how involved in Aiden dyeing his hair. How could you not! He would be happy so you would do anything for your best friend. You and Aiden were there for Ben when he was going through tough time, you being the one that bought him his headphones to help him calm down. Of course they were there for you too! When you had family issues, personal issues, or even school issues! They were always there for you as if they were your unpaid therapist haha.
Your summers were never dull when with them, Ben being the only reasonable one and got you two out of trouble most of the time. He was the one that you always called at night when something was bothering you, knowing Aiden would probably already be sleeping, his snoring sounding like a damn alarm clock! Aiden however would be there for you during injuries and things like that. He was quite experienced with patching people up since he himself had to do it a lot on himself. Skateboarding injuries suck ass.
And here you were, looking at your phone, two different tabs opened. One with yours and Aidens chats and the other with yours and Bens. Both having the last message as;
— — — — — — — — — — — —
‘I love you Y/N.”
— — — — — — — — — — — —
What were you supposed to do? Yes you liked them but you weren’t sure if you could choose between them. You gagged at the thought of dating the both of them, thinking it would be weird since they are literally cousins. You shake off the thought, groaning and scream into your pillow. Watching the time go by, you get another text from Aiden and Ben;
— — — — — — — — — — — —
‘Hello? Y/N?? Are you there?’
‘Y/N?”
“HELLOOOO?”
— — — — — — — — — — — —
“Y/N everything okay?”
— — — — — — — — — — — —
You open the messages, trying to type out an answer but every single one felt like it wasn’t enough.
‘I need more time.”
You rewrote that to;
‘Could we talk about it in person?’
Nope! Rewriting that to;
‘Maybe we should just stay friends? No hard feelings right?’
FUCKING HELL Y/N, NO!!
‘I love you too, but I just can’t choose between you two, I love you and Ben so so much, you’re my best friends after all, why wouldn’t I? You have been here for me since we were 8, and I appreciate that but I don’t think I can love one and leave the other behind, I’m sorry.’
Yeah, that seems alright. You send the message and send the same thing to Ben, just rewriting his name to Aidens. They both must be so confused, I doubt they told each other about their feelings towards me, knowing the both of them a bit too well. You hear your phone blow up a bit, deciding to ignore them, you start to pack. Oh reader, nobody told you? You’re moving! Out of the state, well.. to a whole new continent! Isn’t that exciting? Well, it would be if this whole thing wasn’t going on. You’re leaving behind the people you love so much, how sad and American high school movie is that? Your mom yells for you to hurry, grabbing the photos and gifts from the group. You look at your now empty room, walking downstairs you send a quick; “Goodbye America<3” with a picture of your suitcase on snapchat and turn off your notifications. Everyone in the group knew, except Aiden and Ben. You walk downstairs, everything packed and ready. Your mom was waiting for you in front of the car, grabbing your things and puts them in the back of the car.
She smiles at you, hugging you and kisses your forehead. “You ready to go ducky?” She asks and you nod, smiling at her. She pats you on the back and you both get in the car. You get comfortable, knowing it would be a long car ride when you see Ben and Aiden sprinting out of their homes. Your dad drives off, Ben and Aiden chasing the car for what felt like hours yet it was only just a few seconds. They looked devastated, heart broken even. But it’s what the three of you needed; a fresh start.
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🎧🛹 ɞ˚‧。⋆
195 notes · View notes
anna-the-undertaker · 29 days
Text
Im playing with an incorrect quote generator and I'm sharing them here. They are cracking me tf up.
Belphie: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to MC and not do the thing, Belphie: Well there’s a clear right answer here. Belphie: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*
Satan: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY- MC: Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~ Satan: Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH- Lucifer, recording: This is so cute.
Beel: sSSSHIT- I BURNT MY LIP- Belphie: …Why the fuck would you even drink coffee with a METAL STRAW in the FIRST PLACE?? Beel: BECAUSE WE WERE OUT OF THE PLASTIC ONES!
Barbatos: Look, Satan, if you can fit your head down the gun’s barrel, you can assume it doesn’t have a non-lethal setting.
MC: Yes, I'm adopting Satan and you cowards can't tell me no!
Lucifer: *running towards Beel with open arms* Beel: *moves out of the way* Lucifer: Hey, why'd you move?! Beel: I thought you were going to attack me. Lucifer: I was going to hug you! Beel: Why would you hug me? Lucifer: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?
Levi: The best way to gain someone's undying loyalty is by saving them from a perilous situation. Barbatos: So you're just gonna wait until MC is in danger and save them? Levi: Of course not, I'm going to create a situation that puts them in danger and then save them. Barbatos: … Barbatos: You're insane.
MC: We’re going to defeat you with the power of friendship. Belphie: We’re not friends. MC, holding an axe: We’re going to defeat you with the power of incredible violence.
Lucifer: You’re starting to look like me more and more every day— Satan: *Bursts into tears* Lucifer: Why are you crying? Satan: You’re ugly! I don’t want to look like you! *sobs*
*Satan and Mammon are texting* Satan: Who are you? Someone changed the names in my phone. Mammon: What did they change my name to? Satan: Chosen One. Mammon: Don’t change it back. Satan: BUT WHO ARE YOU?!?! Mammon: I’m the chosen one.
Mammon: "What are you into?" is such a broad question, like do I reply with a TV series or choking?
Belphie: Sorry I can’t be emotionally vulnerable with you it’d ruin the mystery.
Asmo: I don’t think the therapist is supposed to say ‘wow’ that many times during their first session with a client, but here we are.
Mammon: What happened to your nose? Satan: I used it to break some guy's fist.
Mammon: Would it be discrimination to only hire employees at my doughnut shop who have the same name? MC: Legally, I don't believe that breaches any discrimination laws. Morally though… I don't know. Mammon: I believe god is on my side when it comes to Duncans' Doughnuts.
Mammon: Would anyone know any good vendors for professional-quality brass knuckles? Asmo: I know you’re serious, but you say the scariest shit sometimes.
Mammon: look Levi, I'm not slut shaming you but… Mammon: Actually yeah, I'm TOTALLY slut shaming you.
Lucifer: I am the left brain, I am the left brain. "I work really hard until my inevitable death" brain. You've got a job to do, you better do it right and the right way is with the left brain's might. Mammon: I LIKE OREOS AND PUSSY-
Satan: My expectations were low but holy fuck.
MC: *Texts a selfie to the group chat* Hey besties!! Mammon: *Texts a selfie clearly parodying MC's* hey besties !!1! MC: I literally hate you so much.
Satan: What's this? MC, hugging Satan: Affection! Satan: Disgusting. Satan: …Do it again.
Lucifer: I am going to need you to swear- Diavolo: Fuck. Lucifer: Lucifer: …swear as in promise.
Mammon: Pardon me, but it sounds like you’re questioning my authority! Lucifer: Not at all, Mammon. Merely your primitive methods.
MC: *cocks gun* Go to Bed. This is no longer a request, This is now a Threat.
Levi: Wait a minute, how did this happen? We're smarter than this! Beel: Apparently, we're not.
Mammon: *Reading a letter* Satan: Well, what does it say? Mammon: It’s a confession letter. It turns out MC killed my pet rock.
Diavolo: Not to be nsfw but I want someone to hold me while I sleep.
MC: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Diavolo and Lucifer's convo? Asmo: Me. I'm in the laundry basket. Belphie: I'm in the washing machine. Barbatos: I'm in the closet. Asmo: We accept you Barbatos. <3 Barbatos: No I'm literally in the closet. Asmo: Love is love. <3
Belphie (brainstorming ideas for pranking Lucifer): How much would a serial killer mask possibly cost? MC: Well it’s hard to find a high-quality one made out of leather or silicone, but if you did find a good one like that it’d be a couple thousands of dollars. I can try to hook you up with one but I don’t know if I’d be very successful. Belphie: Huh, that’s pretty interesting actually- Wait, how the hell do you know that? MC: …I am very passionate about Halloween, Belphie.
Diavolo: I don't know, it's not my cup of tea. Satan: Well then whose is it? Diavolo, staring at a cup of tea: I don't know!
MC: What’s something you guys are better than Lucifer at? Mammon: Mario Kart. Satan: Yeah, video games. Levi: Emotional vulnerability.
Mammon: Can we talk about that mass email you sent? MC: Why? It was important. Mammon: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit". Diavolo, shrugging: The people need to know.
Mammon: Can you pass the salt? Asmo: Can you pass away? Mammon: Too much salt.
*talking on the phone* Mammon: Remember how I said that MC and I were gonna have a calm night out for once? Lucifer: Yeah… Mammon: Well, we’re in jail. Lucifer: *hangs up*
MC: Go to hell! Lucifer: Where do you think I come from?
MC: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.
Satan: We need a distraction. Lucifer: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises? Diavolo, whispering: My time has come.
Mammon: I don’t know, this plan seems complicated. Lucifer: You once said that about an orange. Mammon: They don’t make sense. Apples, you eat their clothes but oranges you don’t.
Diavolo: Mammon and I were crossing the street, and this man drove by and honked at us. Asmo: What did you do? Diavolo: They chased him to the next red light, and reached into his window, and- Mammon: *walking in* Who wants a steering wheel?
84 notes · View notes
mezzy303 · 10 months
Text
So I've been rereading skip beat from the beginning for the first time in uhhhhh almost 10 years and I'm going inSaNE over characterizations and development that I have to write it down
At this point I'm only at the Heel siblings arc so I haven't gotten to the Guam or Saena arcs which are very big for Kyoko and Ren's character development and healing which I haven't reread since those chapters came out
Can we just take a moment to appreciate Nakamura for basing Kyoko and Ren's childhood struggles and trauma on very real things that aren't often, if at all, dealt with in anime/manga and also writing them with utmost care (Not only do the traumas inform their personalities, but their healing arcs aren't just a one and done thing!! It's a very slow process) Like starting with Kyoko, her single mother neglected her so much that she was raised by a family friend. On top of that, nothing Kyoko did was ever good enough for her mother, and both of these things are so apparent in Kyoko's character. She attaches herself to fairytales and magic as an escapism and because she relates to stories like Cinderella. She literally cannot function if she messes up and no one criticizes her. She can't properly acknowledge her own talents and beauty without it being attached somehow to fairytales; she never quite believes shes good enough. Similarly, she didn't want to bother anyone with her troubles, so she always dealt with them alone/in private spaces. Pretty sure she also has lowkey abandonment issues. And this is all parental trauma!! Things she already has before the series starts and she gets so utterly heartbroken she swears off romantic love entirely so she can never get hurt the same way again.
(I don't think I'll ever get over how Kyoko told all this to Kuu and he was literally like I'm adopting you. Your mine now. Sorry I don't make the rules ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And Kuu going home to his wife like hey we got a new kid 😂 Like Kyoko freezing up when she made mistakes and then Kuu showing her love instead of reprimanding her makes me go 🥹😩💖✨😭💝 Kyoko getting all fluffy from head pats🥹🥹 But on the downside she literally can't bring herself to call him dad unless she's in acting mode sjdfhsf)
When I really consider it, I wonder if Kyoko really loved Sho as a person or like.... the idea of him. Like he was just a convenient guy via proximity bc Kyoko needed someone to be her "prince". We haven't been shown exactly why she fell in love, but it would explain why she stuck with dedicating herself to him despite his terrible personality and knowing he never saw her the same way. It's portrayed like the concept of hatsukoi in anime where its ✨pure✨and innocent✨It seems very idealistic. Whereas Kyoko's love for Ren is more mature. She sees every aspect of Ren and doesn't sugarcoat it, she sees him as he is (she does him up on a pedestal but partially bc she admires him but also as an extreme measure to protect her heart and hide her feelings imo)
And REN. trauma to the max. He had to deal with the hardships of making a name for himself when his parents are already famous, extreme racism from being biracial, his friend/mentor dying from an accident he unintentionally caused???? Like boy hates himself so much he's literally disassociating 24/7 he needs a fucking therapist. I get how being Ren has helped him in some capacity but he needs a professional asap. Though deep diving into this is so interesting because Ren/Kuon compartmentalized his issues and the parts that he hates about himself so much he created its own persona ("Dark Kuon"), to the point he's rarely ever just himself. And he buried it so deep that as soon as he cracked the lid open, those emotions just spilled out. He can't even allow himself to be happy, and when he does feel truly happy, his automatic response is acting nonchalant,,,,,,,,,,,, he didn't even realize he was doing it at first 😢
Also the symbolism with Ren's watch makes me go a little feral. I don't remember if it's originally his or Rick's but it obviously stopped when the latter died and Ren keeps it as a reminder of what happened and why he went to Japan. It's a weird item since it grounds him but also represents his heavy trauma, and I think having those two things in one kinda showcases Ren's unhealthy coping mechanisms (like grounding himself to something traumatic isn't... great...). But that scene where he realizes he took it off and he has a moment of whether it to keep it on as Cain Heel or not??? *clenches fist* it was so good. (To recap it, he had his watch so he wouldn't lose himself in the role of BJ and then forgot it in the bathroom after an unexpected trauma response) Ren narrates his thoughts as choosing between Rick or Kyoko but interpreting this, he's choosing whether to keep himself stuck in his past trauma or move forward and let himself be happy AKA stick with unhealthy coping mechanisms vs try something healthy and rely on people he trusts. Kyoko essentially becomes someone Ren grounds himself to 🥺 He still needs therapy though lmao. He's so mentally unstable in this arc,,,
As I'm writing this I'm seeing a parallel between Kyoko and Ren and how they both had an experience that completely and utterly broke them, and it was this that pushed them onto their current paths in showbiz. And they likely would never have met each other again if those things never happened (they had to lose themselves to find each other?? 😭). It's so funny to me that Ren is all like ThEiR fAtEs ArE iNtErTwInEd with Kyoko and Sho when you have to consider the fact that him and Kyoko meeting again was like. a chance in a billion. It was fate 😂
KyoRen is such a poetic ship to me. The fact that they're different people when they meet and don't recognize the other. How Ren starts falling in love AS SOON AS HE REALIZES KYOKO IS THE SAME GIRL HE MET (Ren being gray/demiromantic.... more at 5). Kyoko lowkey starting to crush on Ren when she witnesses a bit of his real personality. These two things happening around the same time??????? And Ren being SO afraid of being Kuon, his true self, because of his bad qualities, but Kyoko pulling out the good qualities without him fully realizing it?? (I'm 100% referring to Kuon being a mischievous little shit and I live for how he teases Kyoko) tbh they treat each other differently from other people without even realizing it lol. And Kyoko being surrounded by toxic and possessive men pursuing her, and Ren being anything BUT. Like my man is a gigantic green flag. He recognizes that he can't seriously pursue Kyoko bc she's a minor and he really tries his best to only be a friend and mentor in her life and keeping her trust and never crossing her boundaries despite the stereotypes of men being "unable to control themselves." Y'all take point this should be the standard at minimum☝️
I have to talk about Sho bc this boy is so fucking toxic but he makes such a fascinating character. As much as I hate how Kyoko got heartbroken in the way she did, I think it was necessary so that she could leave Sho's sorry ass and cut him out of her life. Seriously,,,, he took advantage of her and used her as a servant. she literally dropped out of school, moved to a different city, and took on two jobs for the sole purpose of helping his career and then he threw her away like a used rag (JUST THROW THE WHOLE MAN AWAY). And then he has the audacity to fall in love with her smh. Anyway the fascinating part about him to analyze is how he's so possessive of Kyoko. Like she was a mere fly in his life, but she was always his. Until she wasn't. And I think those twisted thoughts kinda morphed into feelings for Kyoko. Ig in a way he still cares about her, but it could never hide how toxic he is. Anyone who's like I don't care how this person thinks of me as long as I take up the biggest space in their heart is egotistical and narcissistic. BUT he and Kyoko bickering like siblings will always be funny. Like epitome of two people who've lived with each other for way too long so they know how the other ticks and also get on each other's nerves 😂😂Sho does makes a good foil for Ren though. Like he's basically everything Ren is not: immature, temperamental, possessive, vain, the list goes on. His only redeeming qualities as a character is providing good drama and humor and being an example of what Ren isn't.
Skip Beat is really a story about healing and learning to love yourself and letting others love you and Nakamura is such a good story teller 🥺
148 notes · View notes
enrosadiraanisaaa · 1 year
Text
Within Session .Part Four.
Tumblr media
Hey there cuties, glad to finally post another part of Within Session! This fanfic consist of Yandere!Leon Kennedy. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:
~Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…
Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝
This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!
I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂
This chapter does not contain any 🔞 material. This story will contain +18 content (NSFW) in the near future 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit.  This story will eventually hit that point so don’t set yourself up.
Summary
As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?
A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. We're getting closer to the nitty gritty of the story. Hope y'all like this bit slice of life before shit gets fucked up. Expect the next part to be out around in two weeks.
Hope y'all enjoy the forth part! More to come 💝~ Anisssa أنيسة
Here is Part One , Part Two, and Part Three of Within Session
Cherish These Moments
Silence soon settled into the office when Leon departed out of the room after the conclusion of his session. Typically, the end of the day consists of reflecting on each session into notes. These notes along with legal documentations and insurance sheets are submitted to your supervisor every day. Now alone in the office, you were seated at your desk, hastily typing on the keyboard while staring at the computer screen to complete these synopsis to turn in so you can leave for home. It was tedious work after consulting a number of clients throughout the day, which compelled you to finish these tasks immediately following the last client. As much as you loved your job, required work tasks such as these were mundane and annoying.  
       At this time, you were well aware the sky was already night outside due to it being the middle of winter. The drive home was always more extensive than you would like to admit due to the snow that has accumulated over the roads, and as a Texan, you were not well versed in driving in these conditions. People back home would swear up and down hell froze over if an inch of snow touched Texas soil, but snow was an ordinary occurrence in the Midwest, especially in Omaha, Nebraska. 
Eventually, you complete all the necessary notes after 40 minutes and send them through an encrypted email to your supervisor. A groan escapes your lips as you stretch up from your desk chair, standing after being seated for most of the day. With the documents and signature sheets in one hand, you turn to your chair to pull off your oversized coat from the back of your chair.
      “Fucking finally, I’m out this bitch,”You mutter in a whisper to yourself, stepping out the office and turning to lock the door. In tip-toed steps to quiet the clacks of your heels in the hallway, you reach a few doors down to slide in the documents and signature sheets in a plastic wall file holder. Now, walking in the opposite direction, you head towards the entrance of the building. While the steps of your heels echoed, you swung the oversized wool trench coat around the back of your body to stuff your arms in the sleeves. At the sight of your own red blazer and form fitting skirt, an involuntary huff resonates from within as you recall Leon’s stare upon your outfit, his sly remark and odd begrudging attitude when he first notices your attire.
     “Dude’s weird…”
          You simply shrug, tightening the sash to keep your oversize coat wrapped around your body as you brace to trudge cautiously in this godforsaken weather. Upon opening the entrance door of the building, the penetrating cold immediately stings your skin. Among the rows of cars in the parking lot of the building, you instantly locate your car that was slightly covered in flurries. Your baby- a cherry colored 1986 Nissan 300zx with turbo and T-tops that was bestowed to you as a parting gift from your father. This car was a part of your life since childhood, the memories of riding in the passenger seat while the t-tops were off impeded as staple moments you cherished. 
         Around the parked cars of the parking lot, you scurry towards your car, nearly slipping the process. Once inside your car, you turn the ignition on with the turn of your key, allowing the car to warm up. Thoughts of Leon invade your mind once more as you rest back on the driver's seat. During the session, you notice his attempted subtle glances and him anatomizing your figure. While Leon was fairly attractive, you hope this was not a recurring thing in future sessions, or he might have to be referred to another therapist. Violating boundaries and etiquette as a therapist could cost your career, and all the endeavors you endured in the past would be in vain for a man. ‘Not fucking worth it.’
      With that last thought, you shift the gear into drive, steering the car cautiously out the parking lot of the USSTRATCOM headquarters to proceed home. Through desolate roads, you navigate in ceaseless fall of sleet during nighttime, ultimately arriving an hour later in front of an old Victorian house. Once your car is parked on the side of the street, you venture towards the entrance of the house from your car. 
     The Victorian house was renovated into two apartments, the upstairs and downstairs into their own sections. Along with a roommate, you rented the upstairs section of the house that consisted of two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small living room and kitchen. 
      With your belongings in hand, you unlock the door to your upstairs apartment, making your entrance known to your roommate. 
       “Daddy’s home!”You holler upon opening the front door in amusement. 
     From the kitchen, a head peeped out to reveal your roommate, a 19 year old Mexican kid from California, Mateo. At this point of living six months with him, he became like a little brother to you, although you never understood why a profound kid like him lived in this city. 
      His caramel colored eyes peered from behind the wall, narrowing at you across the room before he visibly rolled his eyes. Mateo steps from the kitchen, clearly shaking his head at you as he glances disappointedly at your attire,”Ay pendeja, there you again, wearing a skirt in the middle of winter…” he exhales, walking towards you at the entrance. 
      In response to him, you shut the front door with a sly grin, loosening the sash of your wool trench coat to further reveal your attire. “Hey! I already had a new client today ogle at my outfit today! I don’t need you to say something…” You protest, walking past Mateo to set your belongings down on the couch in the living room. 
     A snicker can be heard from Mateo as he strides by your side,”Oh, they assigned you a new client today? And they were looking at your outfit?”He questions, crossing his arms.
     You nod, sighing in the process,”Yeah, they assigned a new client today on short notice, but I don't mind having new cases. Just this new client… he kept glancing at me during the session with this certain gaze. I don’t want to already form an impression based on the first intake session of a client, but I don’t know. And my friend who is a colleague of his recommended me…”
       While Mateo was intrigued by this revelation, he raised his eyebrows at you,”Oh, well is he cute?”He asks with a grin on his face, obviously to fuck with you.
       There was a momentary pause from you as you huff in annoyance,”Well yes, he is extremely cute…but I don’t want to think about a client in that way,” You continue, providing a playful glare to the brunet beside you. 
        “What’s his name?” Mateo inquires again, resulting in your eyes to narrow at him in suspicion. 
         “Leon,”You simply answer, unsure where he was going with this conversation. 
         “Oh shit, his name sounds hot. What does he look like?” He chuckles with a cunning smile. 
           A perplexed expression forms on your face, shaking your head to his inquiry about your attractive client. At this moment, you kick off your heels before you plunge onto the couch despite wearing your work attire, allowing the cushions of the couch to engulf your body into a state of ease. “Mateo… I was trying to describe my day at work to you, not for you to devise a plan to fuck my client. I know you, Mateo. The dude seems broken enough,”You relent, peering at Mateo from the couch. 
      From Mateo, an audible gasp escapes his mouth followed by a guilty grin,”Me? I would never… Anyways… I have something you might like but you wanna come home all snarky.”
      You instantly prop yourself on your elbows while laying back on the couch,”Aww, you got me something? Show me!” You demand, watching Mateo briefly leave the side of the couch before returning by your side to gently smack your face with a plastic cover. As stunned as you were, your eyesight instantly unblurs to reveal the hard case cover for Halo 2, directly in your face.
       With a drop of your mouth, you direct your attention up to Mateo as he stands beside you while you lay the couch,”No fucking way, you bought me the new Halo?”
     Mateo retracts the game case from your face while he smiles proudly at your reaction,”Yes! I was thinking we would invite the guys over after work on Friday for a little party… Do you have anything planned for Friday night?” He asks curiously. 
      A seething sound emits from your mouth as you recall plans for Friday night,”Damn, I promised Hunnigan I’d join her for some late night bingo,” You inform Mateo, forming a pout on your lips.
To your answer, Mateo merely shrugs while waving the game case with his hand as if he was enticing you,”It’s your call, or you can get your little bingo dauber and bet money you will no doubt lose,” He expresses with smugness. 
       You pout, contemplating how you will spend your Friday night,”But I want to spend time with my girl, Hunnigan… Fine, I will reschedule with her for a dinner date or something…Only because I want to beat ass in that game!”You huff, raising yourself from the cushions of the couch to sit up.
        By leaning over the other side of the couch, your hand reaches inside your purse to pull out a pink Motorola flip phone. Upon flipping the phone open, you immediately press buttons to dial the phone number of Hunnigan. Several rings pass until you hear a familiar feminine voice,”Hey, are you okay?” Her voice responds. A guilty sensation blooms in your chest, you were timid to cancel plans with her. Seconds pass by, you seem to have paused longer than you should.
       “Are you calling about Leon? Did the session go okay with him?” Hunnigan then asks on her end, her voice consisting of a slight concern.
        “Ah no, it’s not about that. Something actually came up on Friday… I was wondering if I can join you for bingo another time…” You finally answer in a nervous tone.
       A light giggle can be heard through the phone,”It’s fine, we can schedule another bingo date some other time.”
        You sigh in relief, clutching the cell phone to your ear,”Sweet, maybe a dinner date in the city? It’ll be my treat…”
      “Definitely…Well, I have to be at the headquarters building early in the morning. Let’s speak later about it another time,” Hunnigan then gently remarks.
       “Sounds good! Goodnight, Hunnigan!” You beamed before ending the call, clamping the flip phone shut. With a cheesy grin, you whirl your torso to Mateo, who is leaning against the couch,”She was okay with it…so party on Friday? Maybe we can make it a recurring thing on the weekends with the guys…” You suggest while nodding. 
      Mateo chuckled at your proposal,”Maybe…” he simply states.
A smile formed on your lips now that there was something to look forward to on the weekends. However, you would have to persevere through the remaining days of the week, especially with the last client on Friday.
78 notes · View notes
phantomrose96 · 2 years
Note
Hello sorry to barge in with the word vomit/ramble, just wanted to let you know that god. Oh my god. You dont know how many things you’ve uncovered in me.
I started reading like, yesterday afternoon due to an animation for this fic, dreading over the word-count. I thought I could just read a little to catch a grasp of the fic, then put it to the side when my interest dies, and then 12 hours of reading happened and now I’m sitting awake at 1 AM wondering what the fuck happened to my emotions.
Cause?? I just?? Adored it so much?? The writing is such an experience to read, you just nail every single detail that just immerses me into the current scene or event. The amount of details picked and imbedded are just enough to fully paint a picture while also not overwhelming me with information. It was a Joy to read, and shone whenever a revaluation and/or breakdown happens to a character (no plural, we know all know which one). The tension parts always shakes me over with anxiety (like the teru v ritsu 2, one of my favorites), the tiny and wholesome moments are so well described too?? You know what’s happening and you know your heart it not coming out unscathed but nope, you sit there and take the pain as now the characters are allowed a sense of comfort and you realize how much they needed it after watching their lives turn into a slow motion titanic scene.
AND THE CHARACTERS, the characterization is immaculate I swear. Its so different from what I’m used to in the best ways plus more. I love how mob is just a confused kid trying his best and reigen is just Some Guy who managed to completely tear down (or breach-) the emotional walls of every Kageyama kid in sight and just?? Let them know he’s there for them?? Let them be kids?? His interactions with Ritsu is so tragic cause Reigen will just not let go of the fact that Ritsu is fucking thirteen and does not need this much stress condensed in him (god bless burger scene, also a favorite). And Ritsu. He is so insane it makes me want to blow up a house (positive connotation). The dude is just a walking car wreck that is slowly parking at the edge of a cliff. Just the way he snaps in the most unhinged and self destructive ways makes me want to set him down in a pile of blankets, because child you are not leaving until you book a therapist appointment. Teru makes him 10x worst its comical, they just hate each other, barfs at eachothers presence but also they’d entrust their lives to the other’s no problem, what are worst enemies with slight fond attachments are for (Ritsu realizing he was manipulating Teru all along, naturally? A well aimed strike that rattled my core, incredible). Ritsu’s journey throughout the fic has been a sight to witness, from him being a emotionally stunted mess to an emotionally stunted, but now slightly considerate, mess. Character development.
This story has been an absolute delight to finish, and my thoughts will still run wild for about a week. I cannot thank you enough for writing this and sharing this to the world of ao3.
(ABoT)
fbjhfbj eating this review eating this eating this
I'm!!!! Okay to approach this in pieces.
>breakdown happens to a character (no plural, we all know which one)
we all know which one....
Tumblr media
I'm just saying this could still be about literally ANY character named Ritsu in this story.
Also yes!!! Another Ritsu vs Teru v2 enjoyer!! I was so goddamn excited getting to that part of the story. The role inversion between Ritsu and Teru. The weight of Ritsu making this a spirit possession battle against Teru of all people, and that being why Ritsu is able to hold his own against Teru who is so much stronger than him.
And absolutely ABoT is all about the small wholesome moments, cuz each and every one of those are wrestled in tatters out of the jaw of tragedy and misery which, to me, makes them extra special. The absolute fighting tooth and nail for happiness and betterment.
>reigen is just Some Guy who managed to completely tear down (or breach-) the emotional walls of every Kageyama kid in sight and just?? Let them know he’s there for them?? Let them be kids??
yep yep yep the double-meaning of "Breach" in the title. Breach trust. Breach the barrier. The role of lies and the role of trust in that very core element of Mob's barrier.
And I really adored writing all the Ritsu and Reigen interactions because they are. just. the worst for each other. But also Reigen is who Ritsu needs. And that hard fight to save Ritsu happens in the form of screaming matches that destroy a McDonalds and the massive decimation of innocent Build-A-Bears. The burger scene is. SO near and dear to my heart.
>And Ritsu. He is so insane it makes me want to blow up a house (positive connotation).
Ritsu "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you wanna just go apeshit?" Kageyama. I love writing him as a foil against the Reigen and Mob plotline. Because both Reigen and Mob have been hurt, and their reponses are much more focused on how to heal themselves. Ritsu's been hurt (and Teru, too) and their responses are to lash out and hurt everything back. ABoT runs the whole spectrum of catharthis for just "You've been badly wronged. Wouldn't you just like to [heal] [have someone who cares] [seek revenge and destroy the world which destroyed you]?"
>(Ritsu realizing he was manipulating Teru all along, naturally? A well aimed strike that rattled my core, incredible)
I deeply loved writing the Teru and Ritsu plotline just every step of the way. And the hardest part was writing all the build up knowing the role-reversal was coming without tipping my hand--the part where Ritsu would surpass Teru in awfulness, where it would become Teru desperately clinging to morals and trying his hardest to stop Ritsu. And this all starts with the pivot in ch31 as Ritsu realizes he IS in a position to take advantage of Teru... because Teru sees him as a friend.
fkjfdnkjfddf thank you for this review! I'm eating it I'm eating it. You're talking about so many of the things that make me feral for this story and why I wrote it in the first place. It's the trauma it's the healing it's the character development it's the character regression it's the beating your bestie to death on a soccer field it's the taking a traumatized kid to get ramen it's the mindless destruction of a Build-A-Bear Workshop it's the manipulation it's the trying to do better it's the idea that self-sacrifice doesn't actually save the people around you who need you it's the different ways tragedy affects people it's the lighting a corpse on fire then slashing your own throat it's the adopting a kitten named Socks it's the corruption it's the possession it's the cursed Jade Statue that just follows you everywhere for no reason
70 notes · View notes
liminalpebble · 1 year
Text
Eddie's Education: Chapter 20
Masterlist link
CW: Language, descriptions of sex, violent and gruesome horror imagery, hate speech (from a shitty character), description of physical abuse. Death (not of main protagonists) Minors DNI
Chapter 20
Leia's eyes felt sore, heavy and red-ringed with exhaustion as her vision swam in the haze of liminal space between sleep and waking. Hovering there, she could swear she heard a deep gravely voice; hypnotic and commanding, otherworldly.
Leia...You're teasing me. You're so so tired...tired of all the tribulations. You've fought for so long. You don't need to be afraid, my dear. I want you to rest well. In fact, I have such lovely gifts in store for you. You'll see.
Despite the somnolent trance, somewhere in the back of her mind she could feel an alarm going off...some warning...there was something she was trying to do...What was it? Leia only had the sense that she ought to run, but couldn't quite recall why as she slumped, anchored to her spot on the couch.
She goaded herself. Come on...come on...open your eyes all the way. Wake up.
Once Leia finally gathered the strength to lift her eyelids, she scanned her apartment, now bathed in the cold blue light of the little hours. Small beams snaked their way through the slats of the blinds and the parting of the curtains to dance around a figure sitting in the chair across from her. A tall thin man with blond hair and severe features sat with his legs crossed and hands folded on his lap, like a therapist waiting graciously for his client's attention.
“Hello, darling,” he said in a more youthful voice than the gravelly one which greeted her. “I'm pleased to finally meet you.”
She tried to respond but her mouth was frozen. She could only think her response. You're him. Aren't you? You're Vecna.
Nonetheless, he heard her thoughts, and chuckled darkly, “Just Henry, please. What a dramatic name they've chosen for me!” He smiled an unnerving grin, full of teeth as white and orderly as his uniform, as he stalked closer to her frozen form.
Though she was cold and paralyzed, she could feel her pulse skyrocket with a blaze of fear. Her words emerged in a hazy tendril of disjointed thoughts. You're...you're not what I thought you'd be like. You're...beautiful. How are you beautiful? That doesn't seem right. Before...you were... Are you...are you here to kill me?
“Beautiful! Oh you are so sweet, aren't you? I can see why dear sweet Eddie loves you so much,” he said, now leaning over her, hands casually resting in his pockets, as if he were just out for a stroll. Suddenly his face was level with hers, large icy blue eyes boring into her as his smile dropped. “No. I'm not here to kill you. More to...hmm, how should I explain this? To gather you into my world... myself...like an embrace, but not yet.”
He put a hand under her chin, but the pads of his fingers didn't feel like skin, they felt desiccated, rough and clammy; like dead branches after a storm. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as his youthful face began to wither and scar, eyes clouding over with corpse-like cataracts. She felt the urge to scream but nothing came out.
“I have such gifts for you before I take you with me, Leia.”
Leia...
Leia!
“Leia!”
She woke from her trance with a start, realizing that Never Tear Us Apart was blasting against her eardrums from the headphones Eddie was holding against her ears.
“Leia! Oh god...oh Jesus. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry,” he sniffed and whimpered holding her close, feeling her little body panting and shivering. “I fell asleep.”
She slowly got her bearings in her own real apartment, where every light was on and blazing despite it being 5 am, and still very dark outside. “Hey, I'm here...I'm here, Eddie. It's okay...” she soothed, holding him close.
He was crying, blubbering now. “I'm sorry...I'm so so sorry. I could have lost you...fuck, I could have lost you!”
She held his face, meeting his tear-soaked dark eyes, “Hey, Eddie, honey. I'm fine...I'm fine. I'm right here.” Leia kissed him, tasting the salt of his tears as she whisked them away with her soft fingers and gentle lips. Eddie was holding her so tightly that it began to hurt but she couldn't bear to stop him, for his sake and for her own. They clung onto each other like wreckage in a storm. After they spent a moment calming each other down, and Leia told him what happened, they both stared into space for a moment, trying to just accept the surreal and impossible.
Eddie rubbed over his face with a shaky hand, saying in a nervous whine, “Fuck...what do we do. What the fuck do we do, Leia?”
Leia's level head took over. She'd always been good in a crisis, and she'd never needed to roll with the punches more than she did right now. She shrugged, taking a deep shaky breath, “Uh...well. I need to shower and get ready for work. Wanna join me?”
Eddie stared at her in disbelief, dark eyes looking like a deer's in headlights. “You can't be serious! You're gonna go into work today?”
She shrugged. “Eddie, I have to stay awake, right? It seems like this might be the best idea to keep me on my feet all day. I can play music in the classroom while the students work to help keep him from getting in my head again. It's the last day before Thanksgiving break anyway.”
“Jesus...how are you always right?”
She smiled wryly. “I sure as hell try to be. The stakes are usually too high for me for be wrong.” She sighed heavily, the weight of it all sitting uncomfortably on her shoulders, but still, she smiled to him as she said, “Come on, handsome, take a shower with me. I'll let you wash my back...or whatever else you want.”
He couldn't help but chuckle as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Whatever you want, Princess. Anything for you. Always.”
-----
As Eddie spent the rest of the morning passionately fucking Leia against the wall of her shower, losing track of time, and then scrambling with her to get ready for the day, Dr. Ferguson sat in his house across town, nodding off. The dean sat with a cup of bitter coffee in front of him, nearly spilling it on the puke green velvet recliner; his favorite. Each time he woke again, he violently smacked the snooze button of the alarm clock beside him. He thought, vitriol rising, about how tired he was. He hadn't slept well for weeks.
It's all that little whore's fault. Women don't know their place anymore, giving an upstanding Christian man like me impure thoughts that keep me up at night, the stupid little Jezebels.
Ferguson had always been misogynistic, but it'd gotten worse ever since his wife left him at the start of the school year, unable to tolerate any more of his ranting about how women should all be barefoot and pregnant all the time. And then...and then there was Leia goddamn Vespero. Some highly educated little snot of a teacher with academic awards all over her resume, whom all these idiot students adored, especially that godless Munson boy.
The fact that Eddie Munson was no longer a kid, or that it was no longer 1983, or 1970, or the 1950's didn't often occur to Ferguson. He was stuck in the Brady Bunch and Leave It to Beaver ideals of a bygone time when men were men, instead of long-haired Satan-worshiping freaks, and women made dinner in pearls and high heels instead of being little show-off shits who got their Master's a year early and thought they were good enough to be professors instead of their secretaries.
Ferguson looked around his empty home, his living room, where he'd taken to sleeping every night in the recliner without his nag of a wife to make him go to the bed. Mid-glance, his bloodshot eyes flickered shut. His dingy 70's bungalow, was suddenly clean, tidy, and new, the way it had been when he'd bought it, right after it was built. He saw his 5 children (who were no longer children but were in this moment) lined up on the stairs in their perfect Sunday best of suits and modest dresses. And there was his wife at the foot of the stairs, saying in a softer, more docile, voice than she'd ever actually had, “Good Morning, John. We're all ready for church.”
He made a joke, to which his wife gave him an unsettling laugh that sounded like the canned laughter of a fake studio audience; all those artificial voices coming from a single red mouth.
Nonetheless, he smiled in smug satisfaction as he walked over to inspect his righteous American family, but the closer he came, the more their toothpaste-commercial smiles began to drop in unison. He looked to his wife as her make up dripped off, revealing every bruise he had given her over the years. They were piling on all at once until her head began to look like a rotten piece of fruit; a swollen over-ripe plum of a face still trying to smile for him, like he always told her to do.
Unable to look at the contorting, livid faces of his family, he screamed and stumbled back. Ferguson's eyes met the large crucifix on the wall, as he attempted to look at anything but them. It was wrong somehow. The tangled, sinewy figure of his lord and savior, emaciated and streaked with blood, was no longer ceramic, but a small living creature, that looked as if it had been flayed alive, full of pulsing ropes of bare muscle and ooze. It turned its skinless, smiling head as it hung there, and addressed him.
“Hello, John. Do you have something you'd like to confess?” it asked in a deep growling voice.
John tumbled back from the wall, falling with a thud onto the shag carpet and trying to crawl backwards until he slammed against a pair of legs. There were vines slithering from the monster's body constricting around him, and lifting him from the ground to face Vecna's milky eyes and smiling skull of a face. One gigantic clawed hand rose, caging around Ferguson's trembling head as he was forced to meet the creatures eyes. It said, slowly, deliberately, from vocal cords laced with decay, “Be not afraid, John. The shepherd is here to gather his flock. It'll all be over soon.”
With that Ferguson's thick red neck made a disgusting snap and his jaw lulled open. With his mind, Vecna reached within John's chest encircling the muscle of his heart with a bruising, invisible grasp. Then he squeezed, popping it was if it were no more than a water balloon.
In the waking world, the corpse of dean Ferguson still sat in his armchair, his coffee, having long since tumbled to the carpet in shards of ceramic and an inky puddle. His gray frozen face was distorted with fear and fracture. It would be ruled a heart attack (a cause of death which would surprise no one, and was technically true) but there were older cops on the police force who saw something in that twisted face they recognized...something from a series of cases 15 years ago.
-----
Leia walked quietly around her classroom and glanced at her watch. I was 10:30 am.
This will be a long day. She thought with a sigh, rubbed her tired eyes, yawned and shivered. She was chilly and grumpy, having run out of the house with a wet head of hair and some pain between her legs from and overenthusiastic Eddie. She smiled, thinking, to be fair I was the one who asked for more and harder, and it certainly woke me up.
The room was quiet as her students worked on their essays. The only soundtrack was the ticking of pens and pencils against paper and the low music coming from her CD player. She stretched and took few more steps between the desks as Thom Yorke crooned out the opening lines of Karma Police in his shaky pretty voice over the lazy strum of the guitar riffs.
She glanced out the into the hall and saw two teachers and a secretary talking in hushed but urgent voices as Radiohead played on...
Karma police, arrest this man. He talks in maths. He buzzes like a fridge. He's like a detuned radio....
The music played on but her awareness of it migrated to the back of her mind as she watched the hall get more and more crowded with the rising cacophony of her coworkers. Their eyes were wide. Their hands went over their mouths as they gasped. Something was wrong. Something was weird. A student called her over, and she put on a smile, helping him for a few minutes, before her attention returned to the hall as Thom wailed in the background...
This is what you get. This is what you get when you mess with us. For a minute there I lost myself. I lost myself. Phew, for a minute there I lost...
There was a gentle knock at the door. The secretary poked her head in and politely asked, “Miss Vespero, can...can I see you real quick?”
@sunflowerdaydreamer @sweetsigyn
8 notes · View notes
ssj2hindudude · 2 years
Text
Scatterpatter Potatoes Pt. 4!
Previous
Aru: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress
Kara: Lmao. Mood
Mini: Would you just get a vibe check already?
Aru: Wha-
Mini: SEE A DAM THERAPIST
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Aru: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside
Aiden:
Aiden: Aru, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...
Aru: *Sips coffee from bowl*
*later*
Aru: Hey! I'm back from bowling!
Aiden: Please tell me there's a different reason I can't find the bowls.
Aru: ...so I feel like having some soup. You want a plate?
*Aiden groans*
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
*The Potatoes are talking about what it'd be like to open up a homemade Pokemon gym*
Aru, joking: Brynne's just sitting at the end, juggling- fushigi-ing 2 glass balls, in super tight pants, just waiting for their kid delivery once they best their minions.
Brynne: Well they would be Pokeballs. And also it's not a kid delivery. There's no fucking guarantee that a kid that comes into the beginning of my crucible makes it to the end of it undefeated.
Brynne: In fact, I'm gonna stack this gym! With fuckin pros!
Brynne: It's- It's gonna be brutal. It's gonna be a torture gym.
Aiden: Well- Well what's the theme? Are you like- is it a bug theme, or like-
Brynne: YEAH, AMAMMA. UH- UH- UH- UH YEAH AMAMMA. IM GONNA OPEN UP A BUG TYPE POKEMON GYM. YOU IDIOT.
Brynne: YEAH THAT'S WHAT I WANT, BECAUSE I WANNA GIVE- I WANNA SHIT OUT BADGES FOR EVERY HAM AND EGGER THAT COMES TO MY FRONT DOOR.
Aru: *Cracking up*
Brynne: YEAH, AIDEN. 'Uhh, go Caterpie! >~>' That's me, you FUCKING imbecile. 'Yeah go- uhhh- d-do your best, Kakuna!'
Brynne: WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOU- Yeah a ~bug type~ gym.
Aiden:
Aru: Okaaay-
Aiden: Alright, um, I'm gonna go. I've embarrassed myself...
Aru: Maybe fire? Fire type?
Aiden: Yeah fire-based? Like- have fires?
Brynne: Yeah, yeah I'll probably just- That's a good idea Aru, I'll probably just do a fire type one... SO THAT ONE KID WITH ONE BLASTOISE CAN FUCK UP MY WHOLE SHOP.
Brynne: KILLED ALL OF US WITH ONE BLASTOISE, HUH? WOW. SHIT I SHOULD'VE-
Aiden: Just do rock, then! Just do rock type!
Brynne, voice dripping with contempt: The same Blastoise...
Aiden: All the gyms have single typing. If you wanna do multiple types while surrounded by pros, you might as well be the champion!
Brynne: AND GET MOPPED BY THE PLAYER CHARACTER'S LEGENDARY?!? DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?!?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Aru: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos.
Brynne: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard.
Mini: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos?
Rudy: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.
*Mini groans*
Rudy: Also, what are nachos?
Mini: You know how whenever you eat raw eggs, despite my salmonella warnings, you like to dip pieces of shell in the yolk?
*Aru gags while Brynne looks dead inside*
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Kara: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?
Aru: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies
Mini: Socks are Feetie Heaties
Brynne: Forks are Stabby Grabbies
Mini: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties
Rudy: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies
Aru: Stamps are Lickie Stickies
Aiden, annoyed: You are disappointments
Aru: Shut up, Snobby Dabi
Aiden: Make me, Unholy Trolly
Brynne: JUST GET A ROOM ALREADY YOU LOVEY DOVIES
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
*In City of Gold*
Mini: We need to distract this guy
Aru: Leave it to me
Aru: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss.
Fake Ravana Heads: *Immediately begin arguing*
Aiden, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.
Brynne: Pegusi have six limbs too
*Arguing gets worse*
Aiden: Don't encourage it!
Aru: Wings don't count!
Brynne: Wings are limbs!
*The Heads all kill each other*
Aru: It worked didn't it?
Aiden: Why are you like this, Shah?
Aru: Because you love it, Acharya!
Brynne: She's right you know.
Mini: For the record, it takes way more than having six limbs to be an insect!
Next
17 notes · View notes
findingmypeace · 2 years
Text
11/26/2022
TW: emotional trauma
I’m on my phone so I can’t do a text cut.
I’ve been crying off and on for the past hour. Sometimes it takes me awhile to put my feelings into words. Tonight I finally fully understand why I’m so incredibly pissed off at my parents, besides the obvious. I was finally able to put into words what I felt this summer.
This is a very vulnerable post for me to make so please be nice. Going to treatment this time around put me in a very, very bad spot financially. I had absolutely no income. I asked my parents for help through many different avenues. Some that would cost them nothing. But in response to me asking for help I got comments from both my parents that were incredibly mean. For example, “You chose to develop an eating disorder and since you chose it now you have to fix it.” That was from my Dad. My Mom said, “You’re an addict and addicts die.” I didn’t care that she called me an addict. It was the fact that she is so nonchalant about me dying. It’s like she’s already accepted my death. And here’s the part that I put into words tonight. It’s not about the money/finances. I’ve thought that all along. It’s about the ‘lesson’ they were trying to teach me. They want so badly for me to ‘fix’ my ed (so I can live a life their proud of ie: make money) yet they think it’s incredibly irresponsible of me to get help. They’ve always thought that. The lesson is that I’m completely irresponsible for going to treatment. And how I interpret that is they’d rather have me die than to admit something is wrong. Last summer (summer 2021) before I went to treatment my Mom told me that I shouldn’t go to treatment because I ‘enjoy’ it. Her reasoning was that she attended a parent group with me (which is shocking) and I was laughing and smiling with the other girls. Going back to the conversation last summer, I told her that hurt my feelings. Her response was, “Well you don’t want me to lie, do you?” To my point, it’s clear they think this all some game to me. It’s a way for me to avoid responsibility of my life. Nevermind that I’m starting to have heart problems. That doesn’t matter. Before I went back to treatment this summer I told my Mom about the heart problems. After I finished explaining she said, “Well, I’ll let you go now.” And then we said goodbye and hung up. That’s in contrast to LS’s response of care and concern and actually having a conversation with me. Essentially, my parents don’t care. It’s just a stupid thing I’m doing in order to avoid my responsibilities and I need to be taught a lesson so that I can conform to their standards and live a “successful” life. Nevermind the fact that despite everything I have earned a Masters degree, become a licensed therapist, and I’m working on my Ph.D. My Mom also told me that all my treatment providers want is my money. That they don’t care about me and will ‘bleed me dry’. That makes me wonder if she thinks that about me since I’m a therapist.
This all came about tonight because every Christmas my family does a ‘gift exchange’. This is separate from the gifts on Christmas morning. Basically we draw names out of hat and then we give our assigned person our gift on Christmas Eve after a special Christmas Eve dinner. Just my luck, I happen to be giving to my Dad and receiving from my Mom. How the fuck did that happen? My sister-law-said she swears she did it randomly by picking slips of paper for each person. I kept thinking and thinking about it. First, because of the ‘lesson’ my parents were trying to teach me and because I’m in between jobs I probably won’t be able to afford a gift this year. Second, do I really want to give a gift to someone who only cares about me if I’m successful? Who thinks my eating disorder is a choice and a game I’m playing? But I don’t want to ruin the gift exchange and make it awkward for my siblings and their spouses. I’m still not going to visit them. But my brother and his girlfriend will be going up there and I figured I give my brother the gift to give my Dad. But should I really give him something? I’ve talked to my Mom once since July, which was a disaster and I spent the rest of the day in the hospital trying to keep myself safe. I haven’t talked to my Dad at all. The last time I talked to him was when he made that comment about me ‘choosing’ to develop my eating disorder.
Finally putting it all into words makes me never want to talk to them again. But like I’ve said all along, I miss them. I hate myself for missing them. I cheer on the Los Angeles Dodgers because that’s my Dad’s favorite team. I see the peppermint bark in the store and I think of my Mom because she would always buy that. I love them but they hurt me so deeply. Right now, I don’t know if I can ever talk to them again but I miss them so much.
5 notes · View notes
tw: negative body image, disordered eating, numbers
i don't really have an eating disorder but every couple of months i get obsessed with my appearance and start with disordered eating habits (restricting, counting calories, fasting, purging, chewing and spitting, binging you name it) and it has been at least 10 years now. usually i get exhausted or start binging or overeating after some time and slowly go back to not caring but despite promising myself i would stop countless of times it still happens somehow.
i just don't get it. i have a supposedly healthy slim (not thin/skinny) body but then why is it so big? why do i have to accept that my huge thighs are just normal? that apparently most people wouldn't really mind them? i cannot possibly keep living like this i just NEED to be underweight. and maybe in a week from now i'll be stuffing my face, gain back the same 3kg that i keep yoyo-ing and i won't care about that but i know it will come back eventually and i will regret not sticking to it. this cannot possibly be the fate of my body i swear all i want is to be small and feel just some of my bones. i don't want to be normal i want it to be obvious i'm underweight through layers of baggy clothes. it's not even a rare body type either. it just makes me so fucking sad knowing that the way my brain works i just can't achieve that healthily. even when i eat rather normally and listen to my hunger cues the very act of thinking about my intake makes me spiral out of control. i don't even know anymore. i feel cursed in my "normal healthy average" body. i'm so disgusted with myself.
Hi anon,
I have little experience or knowledge with eating disorders so please keep that in mind as I answer your message. I think it could be helpful for you to try to self-reflect on why you must be small, underweight and feel some of your bones. Is it related to a personal experience, like a comment someone made or the way someone treated you based on your weight or eating habits? Could it be related to societal pressures on your appearance? Could those expectations be related to gender roles? What makes being skinny more satisfying to you? It's possible that by identifying the root, you can work from there and find a healthier solution.
If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist (ideally one who specializes in eating disorders) could help you explore this further and offer you necessary mediation as you navigate potentially triggering facets of your disordered eating and body image.
If anyone has any comments or suggestions, please feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
1 note · View note
hey um this is a real fucking vent of a post maybe dont read if ur triggered easily by family/abuse stuff. I just had to get it out im sry. its not too coherent
I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him. my dad. one second we're having a normal conversation about art. then he's screaming at me to shut the fuck up, swearing at me, telling me how behind everyone else my age I am, telling me that I DON'T deserve respect or to be treated like a human, mock-bowing to me while laughing at me and saying that I think I'm sooooo important "like some kind of fucking princess" bc I said I don't deserve to be treated like I'm not human. yelling at me over and over to "shut my fucking mouth", saying that this is why I have no friends, why I lose every friendship I care about, and that he can throw me out right now if I keep "pushing it" and he won't care and there's nothing I can do about it. that I don't have real friends and can't name them. that I'm only acting how I am because I'm "on my period and a bit wacky".
....what sparked this? I said I wash underwear in hot water after I buy it, and that it didn't matter if that was "logical" or not bc I only buy new undies once every year or two. that's what sparked this whole thing. that and me saying "How dare you.I don't deserve to be treated this way." when he blew up. ...literally just yesterday he was saying how he's so proud of me and loves me. not even 24 hours ago he was saying that he could see how hard I'm working and that he understands if I need a break because I'm doing so well. ten MINUTES AGO we were talking about art, looking at the bedsheet I'd ordered and he was complimenting my choices and saying he'd put me in charge of buying new sheets for the household soon. TEN MINUTES AGO. what HAPPENED.
...and I know he'll just go back to loving & respecting me after (insert length of time here) when he feels like it, and until then I'll be excluded from all family interactions, treated like a literal threat and monster at all times, called "my abuser" instead of "my daughter", and forced to hide. ...and then I'll be his Amazing Smart Hardworking Daughter again, unless I bring ANY of this up in which case it will go from Bad to Worst and I am now "THE abuser". this is how it goes. this is how it's gone for a decade. why do I always forget this part when things are good. Even if I write it down or record it (THAT WAS A BAD IDEA HE GOT SO PISSED) it feels...fake??? like it just doesn't exist. I am fully aware that this is gaslighting.
I am fully aware that he does this and simultaneously presents himself to the community as an example of RECOVERY from abuse and has CONSIDERED BECOMING A THERAPIST. I don't have shit on him bc I have nowhere else to go, and I'm not in physical danger. staying here until I can get into college and/or get a job IS my best bet, bc while this is traumatic and unpredictable he's fully all bark, no bite. the majority-ish of the time, things are good. He does house and support me despite having just lost his job (though I'm paying for a lot of the groceries- no job here either), and he's actually been really amazing & supportive this year in general... except when he does This.
and GOD does This suck
one day I'll figure out how to stealth-record on my phone... idk why. when things are Bad Like This i want some record to release to our community once I get independent, and blow this lie out of the water. Ik it's ungrateful but like... what the fuck dude
I'm really thankful for what he's doing for me
but what the fuck dude
why
it's going to mean NOTHING in a few hours/days. he's obviously letting out some internal thing that he has no idea how to channel appropriately and nobody else he can aim it at who wont fight back (except my little brother, who has never done anything wrong ever in his life and is ALWAYS dad's "son") (and the dog, who he sometimes threatens to scare until she pees if she's barking like a lunatic at the pizza guy or someone, but he's mostly-joking/ never actually does it because she's "the best dog in the world") (...I'm treated less human then the dog)
but its just so mean
(also obviously if i even raise my voice/tone a TINY BIT at him, or say a word in a way that he percieves as mildy passive-aggresive, that's a trigger for things to go from Good to Bad unless I immediately literally grovel.
...if you want to uhhhh please send funny videos, art DIYS, animals, mythology, the worst most cursed music and/or mashups you know. I could rly use it rn. just rec me something. anything. (not fanfic tho- I'm currently writing my college application essay on fandom's role in modern folklore, so for once I Do Not Want To Hear/Read Any More About It)
1 note · View note
dzpenumbra · 2 years
Text
2/7/23
I'm a bit upset I didn't start this earlier, I could've kept the bedtime momentum from yesterday. And I have a lot to cover today. I'll try to be brief.
The doctors appointment was... confusing. And overwhelming. As I have said several times, the primary reason I went was to get linked up with a GP so I can set up an ADHD screening, so I can get formally diagnosed and start exploring options for management. My primary focus in mental health care lately has been depression and PTSD, mostly PTSD, and I have been very interested in seeing if I can address underlying executive function issues, which PTSD obviously makes much worse, and is a huge source of depression and anxiety. And, with me constantly suffering impostor syndrome, I have no idea whether the problems I have with routine functioning are a byproduct of my PTSD (developmental, cognitive, nurture), a neurodiversity thing (genetics, nature) or a combination of both. By either confirming or denying with certainty a genetic, biological component, I can really set my focus entirely on what I need to work on. Like my therapist was saying, if I have an underlying neurodiversity issue, it's like fighting the same fight with one hand tied behind my back, and meds could potentially open a lot of doors for that.
So... I show up pretty much on time. I chug a Monster on the way there. It was one of those mocha ones, those just disappear for some reason, probably because they're not carbonated. I was running on 6 hours of sleep. I get in and the waiting room is fucking empty. 2 month waiting list and the place is completely empty. And zero wait time. I walk in, the nurse does my blood pressure and comments on how it's highly elevated. Like... she seemed concerned, and offered to double check it later on in the appointment, but never did. Took pulse, that was fine. Then went right into like... some basic history stuff. And she started asking about mental health stuff, and that's why I was there so... I started talking. I started struggling to think, getting really foggy and overwhelmed. I said PTSD, but then started floundering a bit and stumbling on my words. My thoughts were swirling way too fast, I was bouncing between "what are my current diagnoses" and then the dozens of diagnoses I have gotten in the past and shit. I mean, we're talking over 10 years of history here. "Is OCD still a thing?" "Is panic disorder still a thing?" "Would I say agoraphobia?" "Do I even have any formal diagnoses anymore?" "Who was the last person to actually diagnose me?" And the years of shit just started flooding back.
I apologized to the nurse... of course... then just said like... "depression and anxiety stuff." Or something. I don't know. I choked, I guess. I felt the time pressure. I remember stressing that my therapist sent me to them to get screened for ADHD. I swear, I've told them that like 5 times now.
After a minute, the doctor comes in. She seems nice, a more bohemian type, which meshes well with me. She asked me what I do. Seriously, first question from people every fucking time. "What's your name? What do you do?" And I immediately convince myself, "I'm not actually an artist, I'm actually a fraud. I'm just a lazy shit who sits around playing video games and watching YouTube all day, pretending to be an artist. I mean, what's the most recent art piece I've even made?" So I say, "I'm an artist." And the asshole in my head goes "god, you better hope she believes that." And she asks, "oh really? What's your medium?" And I... stumble. Again. Like... I immediately went to "ink". But like... I really haven't done that many ink pieces. My hoodie was the latest ink piece. Hey, guess what? I was wearing the hoodie too... I could've just fucking shown her. But... not in my freaking out brain, I couldn't. So I just sorta fumbled around "ink and pencil, I guess... but I'm exploring other mediums." And she starts sharing how she likes working with clothing and sewing and stuff like that. It was a nice point of commonality, I appreciated that. I just... was more preoccupied by the tornado in my head.
I have no idea how visible that shit is to others. I've been told it's barely visible at all. To me, it's so damn obvious.
I can't go step by step on this, I'm falling asleep, I'm gonna nutshell. She sent me back to my therapist to see if he'll do the screening. Despite him being the one who sent me to her. Her reasoning is sound, she wanted to make sure there wasn't any kind of misdiagnosis or anything, she thought it would be better if the person who screened me actually had a history with me, actually knew me. And I think she has a good point. I have some options to explore there.
She walked me through how hellish the controlled substance regulations are through her. And I mean... it's fucking bad. Like monthly visits, piss tests that can't even show positive for THC, shit like that. It upset me. A lot. I don't like being treated like an addict or a drug dealer. At all. Like, if they were trying to scare me off of even trying stimulant ADHD meds, they fucking succeeded. They scared the Christ out of me. And set off a bunch of underlying trauma shit that's been haunting me in waves all day since.
Like... I move heaven and earth (in the framework of my world), I show up for an appointment after inverting my sleep schedule, 3 days after putting my beloved cat down, I'm actively grieving, I'm a shut-in who rarely leaves my house, I show up on-time, I wait the full 2 months for the appointment. I show up on 6 hours of sleep, I cooperate fully and respectfully, I'm honest and forthright. I have never had a voluntary addiction other than tobacco, which was much more habitual than chemical. I don't have recreational drugs that I could do. I can't drink or I get insane heartburn or start feeling sick well before I get drunk. I can't smoke or else there's a 70% chance I'll freak out and have a waking nightmare. I refused to pursue benzos again because of how I had 3 different brushes with death trying to fucking detox off of them, because I don't have a healthy support network, and even taking one out of the context of regular prescribed usage just brings me right back there. And yet, if a trace of anything shows up in my piss? I get treated like a drug dealer. I get treated like a scam artist swindler who lied their way into a doctor's office to get a prescription for low-grade amphetamines to sell them to college students so they can giggle for a few hours. Or just a fucking drug addict myself. Like all of my efforts to be responsible, mindful and intentional with substance usage was really for nothing, because the system is going to assume that I'm a criminal.
You can probably tell how upset I am about this. This is a fraction of it. This narrative was so powerful this morning that I had to stop doing yoga, first time in the month and a week I've been doing it every day. I called my mom while lying down on the yoga mat because I had to just get the fucking thoughts out. It combined with a few other triggers and just led to utter catastrophe by the end of the night.
Back to the appointment. The doctor wrote me a bulletpoint list of highlights on the back of a business card. She deserves a medal for this, because by the time I got to the door leaving the health center, I had completely forgotten everything we went over. Like fucking Memento or some shit. But she went over some non-stimulant drug options that she can help me out with, even without a diagnosis, I guess? I found that odd, but whatever. I'm going to look into them tomorrow. So yeah, I have a plan. But at a price.
Being in the doctors office (with a lot of medical trauma), feeling like people are being suspicious or unfair to me, and having to explain the story of my life... which, today, was just... utterly depressing... having to explain why I was in a state-funded mental health institution, voluntarily... Like... the context on these things makes a really big difference, and I only had 15 minutes total with this woman. I didn't even get to talk about any of my physical issues at all, like it didn't even have time to cross my mind. All those trauma sparks just set off a powderkeg. The yoga interruption was the shot across the bow. I sank into recording music for the rest of the day. It went really fucking well. I got bass set up, the bass lines were really goddamn hard but I recorded something passable. I even recorded some vocals, which I basically sang at a slightly pushed falsetto near-whisper. I don't really like them, I really wish I would just go for it and project them, but like... neighbors right on the other side of the wall... might be more of a mid-day thing, when people normally aren't home. But the song is mostly done, sans screams.
After that... my mom called. And... I got set off. I don't even know what did it, honestly. I really don't. It could've been anything. But my fight/flight/freeze/fawn today was... freeze. Big-time freeze. For a while. And my mom kept pressuring me to explain why I was upset, so she could help, which just made things worse. And, I completely get why she would do that. It makes perfect sense from that side of the glass, especially when you don't really know it's a trauma response. Maybe it just looks like I'm a bit grumpy or moody or something. Maybe I mask that shit way too well. After finally being able to tear myself free of that quagmire enough to communicate, I was able to tell her about what was going on there. How, in my experience, I got set off by something deeply upsetting that brought back very painful memories. And she was pressuring me, obligating me, to go back and look at it again, and describe it to her in more detail, relive it again... or else I will not get support. Because otherwise, she won't know how to help me with the situation. It's a very common problem we have. And I think I did a good job articulating it today, from my perspective.
It sucks when people are doing the right thing, just in the wrong context. And trauma can be really confusing like that. Like, what I needed was just... help with the emotions and memories I was dealing with. The Now. The details are not essential, honestly. We can work our way up to that, if needed. Right now, I don't feel safe. Right now, I'm scared. Right now, I feel aftershocks of mistreatment and abuse. So what I need right now are demonstrations of safety, comfort and caring. Then, when the alarm bells stop chiming in my brain, we can explore more practical solutions if need be.
My family just... is completely emotionally illiterate. Even me, with all my insanely overwhelming emotions... even I am not very fluent. Even I struggled to identify the emotion I was flooded with today. But these people just flat-out have no idea how to deal with an emotional problem. It's just 100% practical. "How do I make your problem go away for you so you stop hurting?" "How do I solve your problem for you so you're not upset anymore?" It looks helpful, it feels helpful in intent, but it completely bypasses emotions. I suspect by design. And when you're dealing with an emotional problem? It's doomed to cause issues.
So yeah, I just ordered delivery Applebee's again and collapsed in the comfy chair and ate tons of mediocre food and nodded off to a livestream and now it's like 1:30... so I'm going to go to bed.
I need a break.
0 notes
kariachi · 2 years
Text
Want to do OC things but have nothing in my little brain so, Monette facts! Congratulations!
Has some PTSD after an incident in middle school. Didn’t get therapy for it for way too long too, not till her 20s. She still doesn’t do fire, screaming, or pork barbecue, but she’s working on her worrying level of acceptance of death
Goes grey quite young. It’s a genetic thing, her father did it, his father did it- she started getting grey hairs in high school and by the time she left college she’d lost every bit of brown. Owns it too, she’s got way too much self-confidence to have been brought down by something like losing color in her hair
Is very much a pet-name sort’ve person. She’s the sort to call people ‘darling’ and ‘love’ just as a matter of course, shortens names on the regular, if she uses your actual name and doesn’t add a ‘dear’ or some shit to the end she is fucking pissed no matter how much she might be smiling at you
She will normally be smiling, do not trust it, over time you learn to tell the difference between ‘I’m being polite’ and ‘somebody will be by your garage with a sledgehammer next month’
She’s a sweetheart, most personable and giving fucker around, who will 100% call that girl she fucked in college whose uncle has ties to the mob and they’ll make sure you stop harassing that nice kid working the counter at her favorite cafe
Nobody’s died because of her so far. So far.
Monie lives in a world of connections and favors and ‘you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours’
She is so fucking social. She owns an 8 bedroom mansion purely for hosting purposes (you can worry about making sure your drunk guests get home safe, or have a place ready for them to crash) (it also has an elevator and ramps purely for accessibility reasons).
If there is any defining Monie trait it’s that she likes people, she likes being around people, she likes making people happy. Which directly led to her more positive traits, it only took hearing one maid worrying about medical bills when she was a kid to make her go ‘none of my people should have to worry like that’ and now here we are, with this bitch paying her maids the same wage she’s getting
If you put Monie on a desert island with enough food, shelter, water, medical gear, etc to last a year she’d die within a week of loneliness, swear to god
Is by far the most athletic of my OCs. Marian also has her sporty side but Monie has to do sport or her enrichment needs aren’t met
Played hockey from early elementary school up through college, trying to play professionally was an actual serious consideration for her. As it stands she continues to follow the sport religiously, funds local and semi-local women’s and girls’ teams, and will join in on a friendly game given any sort’ve encouragement
Honestly it’s amazing she survived playing hockey, she is a small woman- 5′2 and like 125 lbs soaking wet- but not afraid to get right of a middle of skirmish. Enjoys it, in fact
At ‘present’ her big ‘I need to do an athletic’ things are running (why no, she doesn’t have a long straight empty space running across her home just so she can do sprints, why would you think that) and rock climbing. She generally does traditional climbing or highball bouldering, the latter to fill her burning need for free solo climbing
Does she want to climb a 100 ft cliff face with nothing but chalk and proper footwear at every opportunity? Yes. Does her therapist specifically request she not do that sort’ve thing anymore? Also yes.
Her family was expecting her to go into politics, wanted her to go into politics. As of the ‘present’ she has a pretty much brand-new doctorate in physical therapy. Her great-aunt considers this a lesser accomplishment than her cousin getting a bachelor’s in business and honestly the fact the woman is still alive should earn Monie a medal
Does she go around making a big deal of the doctorate as a general rule? No. Is she require it’s acknowledgement by assholes who want to deal with her? Yes.
Has had multiple arguments with said cousin about whether unions are a threat to the framework of American economics or ‘a valuable tool for maintaining a healthy relationship between owners and employees and ensuring the balance of the economy, you self-important twerp’
Spends about 70% of the money she gets from her shares in family businesses on things like buying out people’s medical debt, improving housing access and helping people get off the streets, advocating for higher wages and lower police budgets, so on and so forth (again, people were surprised she didn’t go into politics)
Her big goal is to take the business she’s going to inherit from her mother and just hand it over completely to the employees, take the profits from her shares of the business on her father’s side once he’s gone and they quadruple and over the course of several years set up a charity providing free housing, one that literally just handles medical bills for people, and a scholarship program for low income med students, each with their own trust account feeding into a checking account, then take her shares and, if she can drag her relatives into it, establish an Employee Owned Trust, granting them to their employees and giving them 1/3 share of the business. After that, if her math is right, her savings should be just enough to carry her to her death in the degree of luxury which she prefers, with any leftovers also going to charity
0 notes
wheredafandomat · 2 years
Text
Dr. Laufeyson
Chapter 7 - Eye candy
Warnings etc: Loki x female reader au where Lokis a therapist, therapy, flashbacks, smut?, swearing, mentions of past trauma later in the fic including abuse both physically and sexually - not explicit detail, 18+. PLEASE tell me if I ever leave anything out x
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
You bit your lip as you continued looking over at Dr Laufeyson dressed so handsomely and with no glasses. He had noticed you, you watched as his breath hitched when his eyes met yours. You didn’t miss the once over his eyes gave you too. You watched as the waiter arrived back at his table with a bottle of wine. His interactions with the woman he was with were awkward, stiff. It made you smile.
“Y/n, eat.” Bucky ordered, snapping you from your thoughts as you focused back on him as opposed to the hottie opposite you.
“Bucky?” You began.
“Mmm.”
“Wanna have some fun?” You smirked.
“Always wanna have fun with you baby.” He grinned in response.”
Narrowing your gaze slightly, you picked up an oyster before using your finger to gesture for Bucky to lean closer towards you. Once he did, you fed it to him, giggling when he returned the favour. You side eyed Laufeyson who’s jaw was slightly clenched as he quickly averted his gaze from you. You could easily spot a sexually frustrated man. You wondered why his beau wasn’t satisfying him.
You continued allowing Bucky to feed you as you occasionally took one of his fingers into your mouth earning disapproving looks from a nearby couple who were clearly mid divorce anyways. Every time you looked over at the Doctor, his gaze was just leaving yours. It was almost as if your relationship with him was currently moving to a different level, an unfamiliar one. Judging by his expression when you started running your foot up Buckys leg, he wanted to fuck you. You could always tell when someone did. You supposed this development was inevitable. Of course he wasn’t purely interested in you or helping you, he wanted to bed you. Men were all the same. Men except Bucky. You wondered how much longer you’d continue to see Dr Laufeyson. Perhaps a few more sessions. You were sure you wouldn’t tell him about Curtis now but it didn’t mean you couldn’t sleep with him before you found a new therapist.
By the time it got to dessert, you were using your thumb to wipe Buckys lip. Dr Laufeyson and the lady he was with had barely even spoken. She was too preoccupied on her phone and he was too busy trying to keep his eyes from you. Once your focus shifted back onto Bucky, he arched a bow as he looked at you.
“What?” You asked.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
“Nothings going on.” You assured.
“It’s like you’re not here, something on your mind?”
You were about to answer before you saw Laufeyson standing up and making his way towards the toilets.
“One second Bucky.” You dismissed, quickly standing up and following him, eventually catching up to him. “Dr Laufeyson.” You greeted causing him to swallow thickly before he turned to look at you.
“Oh y/n, what a pleasant surprise. I thought it was you.” He lied, he knew exactly who you were when he first saw you.
“I see you’re on a date, Loki.” You spoke, using his name at the end remembering you could when you weren’t in session.
“Y/n.” You heard Bucky call from behind you before touching your shoulder “what’s going on?”
“Loki.” Loki greeted, holding his hand out to Bucky.
Eye candy, he thought, offering him a polite smile as opposed to shaking his hand.
“Y/n I’ve paid the bill it’s time for us to leave.” Bucky excused, grabbing your arm.
“Hang on a minute.” Loki interrupted, grabbing Buckys wrist “she’ll leave when she’s ready, no need to grab her.”
Looking towards Loki, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile before you spoke.
“It was nice running into you but I must really go.” You said before turning and walking away with Bucky who kept his head down as he remained silent, walking fast as you struggled to keep up with him. “Bucky can you wait!” You called after him once you were outside.
“What the fuck y/n?” He scorned, turning to face you “that’s your therapist. Don’t tell me you’ve fucked him.”
“Bucky.” You began trying to calm him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t touch me.” He said, moving from your grip. There was a silence before he spoke again “how long has he been in the restaurant?”
“I—I don’t know.” You stuttered.
“How long!” He repeated, raising his voice knowing that you were acting strangely for the majority of the dinner.
“When the starters arrived.” You admitted, looking down.
“This wasn’t just fun or playful flirting, you were putting on a show. Could he see you? He could couldn’t he.” Bucky spoke through gritted teeth “I thought you wanted to get better.”
“I’m fine as I am!” You exclaimed, sick of Buckys tone ,although you knew it was a lie causing a dark chuckle to escape him.
“You’re not fine y/n, you aren’t. He said before beginning to walk away.
“Bucky where are you going? Just wait!” You insisted, following him.
“You know I was really proud of you, truly proud.” He laughed mirthlessly “gosh must you always fuck everything with a pulse.” He cursed, biting his tongue once the words escaped his lips. You stopped walking, standing still in your tracks as Bucky turned to look at you with an apologetic expression.
“I h—haven’t s-slept with him.” You sniffled before turning and walking away, Bucky being the one to follow you now as he apologised. “I just wanna go home.” You finally answered him “alone.” It seems Bucky wasn’t the exception. Yes, all men were the same. Jerks.
Tumblr media
Broskis sorry for the late update 🫡
Tags:
@lokisprettygirl22
@michelleleewise
@mischief2sarawr
@howdidurhammergrowchris
@consistentreader578
@mcufan72
@lokixryss
@jaspearl31
@eyesbluelikethetitanic
@lucylaufeyson3
@peacope
146 notes · View notes
miekasa · 3 years
Note
M-mie could we get some athlete boyfriend eren hcs too if you don’t mind, please and thank you😩
He is: my boyfriend, and I love him dearly. Perfect amount of himbo and athlete without being a jock, everybody give it up for Eren for being my dream boy <3
Eren plays sports year round, with the exception of maybe one or two winter seasons, just because his school/work/home life was too busy for athletics at those times. Otherwise, he’s always go something to practice for: soccer in the fall, hockey in the winter, and his choice of baseball or basketball in the spring.
He’s not a varsity athlete; that is, he’s not “committed” to any one team, so he’s not tied to playing one sport every year, nor are his academics linked to his athletics, or vice versa. He’s just a pretty athletic guy, and he’s got a lot of energy, and he enjoys sports, so naturally he plays whenever he can.
As it turns out, it does help him with his academics. Knowing he’s got practice the majority of the week forces Eren into building a schedule that prioritizes both schoolwork and sports so he can enjoy them equally. It teaches him to be independent in a way that he wasn’t expecting, but he’s come to really love.
And because he loves it, he doesn’t mind working hard for it. Liking the way he’s set it up for himself encourages him to do his best in both areas. It’s really just good for him all around: a good outlet fo his energy, a good way to spend his time, a good way to keep his grades in check, and a good way to keep himself comfortably happy and busy.
His appetite is insatiable, so it’s only dramatized when playing sports. He takes the all you can eat in all you can eat sushi a little too seriously.
The thing is… he’s a shit cook, too, so it’s not like he’s meal prepping to make sure he’s satisfying his appetite. He just buys a shit ton of food whenever he’s hungry. He’s always asking you if you wanna grab food, and part of it is to ensure that you’re eating—not as much as him, but eating nonetheless—but part of it is that he just likes sharing meals with someone.
He also doesn’t like to eat alone, so even if you only have your ten California rolls to his forty six spicy tuna rolls, that’s fine; he just wants the company.
That’s also why even if you say you’re not hungry, he’ll drag you out to eat with him anyway. And you’ll probably get fed some of his food even if you don’t order anything and insist that you’re not hungry because, “It’s really good, baby, just try it—just one bite, it’s okay I’ve got plenty left!”
He usually keeps a few granola bars and chips and other snacks of his liking on him. But because of Eren’s nature, he keeps them on you, too: in your car, in your backpack, in your apartment/dorm. You’ll meet him after class and he’ll kinda just start walking behind you, and you realize he’s opening your backpack, and you don’t even have time to question him before he’s pulling a bar out of the smallest pocket with a smile and munching on it.
Sometimes you come home and see his little protein shakes in your fridge. You definitely didn’t put them there, but you don’t move them, either. When you stock up on more when they’re running low, Eren contemplates marrying you.
If it’s been a hard week of practice or school, he tends to get sleepy when studying (usually when studying for his least favorite class, no coincidence there). He’ll close his laptop, put his hood up, and scooch his chair closer to yours before leaning his head on your shoulder.
He gets increasingly clingier the longer he naps; hand wrapping around your waist, nose poking at your neck. He’s not so subtly trying to hint that he wants you to quit studying and take him home to cuddle instead. If you don’t get the message, expect him to shut your laptop for you.
When you protest, Eren just looks at you with pouty lips and tired eyes, “Chemistry sucks anyway. Wanna nap, and also wanted you to do that thing with your hands when you massage my back for me.” (He then promptly falls asleep mid-massage on your bed).
He’s actually got a waiver to see a physical massage therapist because of how frequently he’s exercising. On occasion, he goes, but he claims he likes your massages much better. Also because he’s hesitant about a stranger touching him and once he moaned when the guy was working on his back and Eren swears it was one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.
He doesn’t get upset if you can’t make it to every game, but he does like it when you show up. Gets all cheesy and cocky with his arm around your shoulder, going on about how, “You’re my good luck charm, baby. I play better when you’re watching, you know?”
He has so much team clothing, from sweats to hoodies to t-shirts to socks. All he asks is that you wear something on game days, even if you can’t be there to support him while he’s playing. And that you keep one or two things for yourself anyway. He’ll put them in your closet for your if you don’t take them yourself <2
Because seeing you in his hoodie is always great, but his team hoodies are extra special, because they’ve got his name and his number on them. Whenever you’re wearing one, he trails just a half step behind you so he can see JAEGER printed on your back while you walk. Something about you wearing his last name around is… enticing, to say the least.
Even if it’s not the clothes branded with his name, Eren’s got a thing for you in sweats and/or workout clothes, so he’ll toss them at you whenever you sleep over. He’s always handsy, even if you’re just wearing an Under Armour shirt with the school’s logo on it; the material of it, and knowing that it’s his just makes him want to keep his hands on you.
Truthfully, he doesn’t workout all that much outside of practice. Occasionally, he’ll go to the gym with some of his teammates if they need a buddy, or go himself to stretch or take one of the free classes, but he doesn’t have a strict schedule for it. If you go to the gym, he’ll follow you if you ask, tho.
Turns out something that he does like is yoga. He’s not particularly flexible lmfao, but the stretching helps with muscle pain and tension, and he kinda finds the whole atmosphere of it relaxing. He’s still not so great at the meditation part of it, but he’s getting there.
(Actually, it’s pretty cute because on Tuesday and Thursdays, the yoga classes at the gym on campus are open-level and beginner friendly. That’s when the majority of the athletes show up, and you see people like Eren, Jean and Connie holding tree pose in the back room).
This, of course, makes him think that couples yoga is a great idea. Let’s just say, you’re lucky that Eren is strong enough to catch you and has sharp reflexes, because he’s certainly not the most balanced partner for this activity.
Game days are fun for him, and usually even if his team loses, he’s still so pumped up on adrenaline that he’s pretty happy. He only gets moody if he thinks the other team is playing dirty, or the refs are unfair, or he’s just been in a bad mood because of something that happened in his personal life; sports are an outlet for him, not his drive in life, so losing a game doesn’t take a huge toll on him.
Usually, even if he is upset about something personal, he’s able to funnel it into his game play. Small things used to make his whole sportsmanship sour, but overtime, he’s really gotten better at using his energy to fuel the right things. However, one thing that makes him foul (emotionally and literally; as in he might foul out of a game), is if he’s been fighting with you.
Sometimes it works in his favor—using the game as outlet, like usual—but it goes south pretty quickly. Because instead of using his aggression in a productive way, he gets distracted and easily pissed off, and it’s no good for anybody, especially himself. Because if he fouls out, or the coach takes him out for doing too much, then he can’t play; and if he can’t play then all that pent up frustration has no where to go; and then he’s forced to just sit with himself and his thoughts, but usually he starts deflecting and telling everyone else to piss off. Truly a no good, very bad box he’s put himself in.
You guys don’t fight that often, and it’s rare that it drags out for an extended amount of time when you do; but as with any relationship, it can happen. And when it does happen, if Armin doesn’t get to you first, expect one of Eren’s teammates to come groveling at your feet.
Or, rather, two. Because when you and Eren were fighting for over two weeks about god knows what at this point, it was Connie and Jean who ambushed you in the library. Jean had some pride to keep, but Connie was practically begging you to make up with Eren: “Look, I know he’s probably the one who said or did something to piss you off, and I’m not saying you gotta forgive him, but please just talk to him. I can’t run anymore extra laps because of him, and it’s gonna be so embarrassing if we lose to a C-list team on Friday because Eren’s funking up everyone’s attitude. PLEASE!”
Jean is more interested in the tea between you guys, but he also wants Eren to go back to being his normal hotheaded self, and not his current moody self. “He’s been playing like a bitch baby all week, and I’m gonna knock his skull in if he doesn’t fucking get his act together,” Jean rolls his eyes, “So just show up on Friday, alright? Do it for me and Connie, at least.”
When Eren does see you in the crowd at the game, it’s not a Troy and Gabriella moment, but when he sees you he feels so much relief that he’s physically calmer and way more mentally relaxed—because at this point Eren wasn’t even mad, he was just scared you might break up with him, and that fear brought out the worst in him. Seeing you in the stands, even if you didn’t wanna speak to him, was reassurance that you still gave a damn about him, and that was motivation enough.
He rushes to you after the game, wanting to make sure you don’t get swept away or leave with your friends. He’s smiling and so happy to finally see you that he almost forgets that you’re mad with him; hugging you and grinning ear to ear. When the reality kicks in, he kinda steps back at bit and rubs at his neck, embarrassed, but at least he knows he still has a chance to make things right with you.
(When you do make up, you’re surprised to find flowers and $10 coupon for your favorite pizza place in your mailbox a few days later. They’re from Connie, and his poorly handwritten note thanks you for “saving the team” and “curbing Eren’s temper).
455 notes · View notes
demonpoxballad · 3 years
Text
The Last Name - Chapter Two
Tumblr media
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Word count: 1.5k
Summary: There's one more name from the past bouncing around Bucky's head. One more scribble ripped from the pages of Steve's old book. Another person to make amends with. Except this one is different: he can't remember doing anything wrong. No murdering or enabling of evil plans. No threats or political conquests. In fact, Bucky can't remember much of her at all.
Warnings: heavy violence and injuries, HYDRA and The Winter Soldier (assassinations), swearing
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Series Playlist
<< Chapter One | Chapter Three >>
Hey! I'm not really sure what's going on with my engagement (maybe people just don't want to read this?) but I'm going to keep on anyway because I'm really proud of this series as a whole <3 enjoy!
Tumblr media
New York, present-day:
There was one last name to cross off on Bucky’s list. The past few months had definitely been hellish, for sure, but after telling Yuri about his son, the momentum grew, and every other name was easier. Bucky felt lighter for it. There was a reason why he’d left this particular name until last, though. It was special. Different from the others. Not least because he had no idea why it was written there, scrawled on a different page from the others like an afterthought. He’d ripped it out of the red notebook before giving it back to his therapist, and now the piece of paper floated around in his pocket alone, heavy despite its negligible weight. Of course, it was him who put it there, him who remembered the name. But that was about all he could remember. That, and a face. Faded and ethereal like a ghost, or a dream.
Sometimes, when he was dreaming, he could see her more clearly. Could picture black leather, bulky and gleaming with blades at junctures in her body. One night, she was a vivid image, curled up by an open fire, a sweet smile on her face. He’d woken up sweating and hyperventilating, and then she had slipped from his memory once more, like dust suspended in water. The whole thing was hard to grasp, tumbling between his fingertips. It was fucking confusing. And irritating.
Why was she there? Was it a trap, a memory planted by HYDRA to lure him towards one of their new snakeheads? It was disconcerting a disconcerting idea to think about, but newly emerging branches was kind of their whole thing. Their whole motto, the big thing they boasted about. Bucky just couldn’t understand for the life of him why he would remember someone from his time as the Winter Soldier, but not killing them, or aiding them in some evil masterplan.
He needed to figure it out. The Doc had told him there was no point in half-assing his amends; it was all or nothing. He had a few ideas for places to start, none of them pleasant or easy. But this shit was pissing him off so much he was willing to feel try most things to work it out. Including a chat with Zemo.
There wasn’t any way Bucky could pull off the same performance as last time; the Raft was maximum security, strictly no visitors. And it wasn’t like the prisoners inside were regularly granted video calls with friends and family for their leisure. He’d have to convince staff that he needed to talk to Zemo for intel purposes only, strictly business. He just hoped that no whispering breeze of their conversation wandered over to the Wakandans. If they caught a whiff of what he was doing, he’d never hear the end of it.
After spinning some tale about needing to find out what Zemo knew about Zoloff, Bucky finally secured a phone call with the Baron. He sat on the sofa in his apartment, and answered his mobile after letting it vibrate for five rounds. It was unsettling, the thought of talking to him without seeing his face. It felt like being in the same room as him; Zemo free to roam circles around Bucky, sat with blackout material tight over his eyes. Zemo was the first to say something.
“Hello, James.”
Bucky sniffed and scrunched up his nose. “Hi, Zemo.”
“What can I do for you?”
He sighed, jigged his knee up and down, and immediately cut to the chase. “Do you know if there could have been a time when the Winter Soldier was out of HYDRA’s control?”
“What do you mean? No other organisation controlled you.”
“I mean an extended period where I avoided any handlers. Where the mind control could have worn off.”
“Why are you asking this? Do you have memories of such a time?”
“Not exactly. It’s all a bit… fuzzy. I remember a time where things were different. With someone who was different.”
There was a pause in which Bucky assumed Zemo was thinking. Then: “If it did happen then there would be no talk of it. HYDRA members would be sworn to secrecy, or their own memories deleted. It would be embarrassing to remember such a mistake, to say the least.”
“Right. So you don’t know anything about it?”
“I’m sorry, James. I don’t. And I can’t think of anyone who would.”
“Okay. Bye, Zemo.”
“But it’s definitely possible. You killed many people, remember. Many people will have wanted to de-commission you. Only those with the best intel would have been able to.”
“I remember. Thank you.” Bucky hung up. He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, his knee still jumping.
Later that day he received another phone call, this time from Sam. He picked up after three rings.
“Hey, Sam.”
“What’s up, Dalek?”
“I know you thought I wouldn’t get that reference, but I did. And it really doesn’t work.”
“Oh, come on! Put a suction cup on the end of your arm and you look exactly the same!”
“Shut up.”
“Can you give me an : ‘EXTERMINATE!’?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Just one. You know you want to.”
“Why did you call me?”
“Just wanted to check up on my favourite cyborg mutant.”
“I’m good, thank you for asking. How’s Captain America?”
“Not too bad, not too bad. Kinda busy though, I’ll be honest. I got it though, it’s all good.”
“Yeah, Sam. You’ve got it.”
“Thanks, man.”
Bucky pressed his lips together and rubbed his forehead. “I’ve only got one more name left on the list.”
“Yeah? That’s amazing, I’m proud of you Buck. Seriously.”
“Thank you. Yeah. It’s looking like kind of a difficult one, though.”
“What do you mean? They’re all difficult, aren’t they? I thought that was part of the point.”
“Yeah, but this one’s different.”
“How?”
“I don’t remember what I did. I don’t remember doing anything bad, at all. I’m starting to think maybe this person wasn’t like the others.”
“How can you not remember? I thought you could remember everything now.”
“So did I. When I remembered Steve, I remembered everything else too, it all fell into place. Maybe because it was all linked. But this is separate, it feels disconnected. Maybe someone really doesn’t want me to remember.”
“HYDRA?”
“Or SHIELD.” Bucky heard Sam sigh deeply through the phone.
“I’m not supposed to help you with these things, Buck.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Okay, sure. But this is different, I promise. It’s not about actually making amends; it’s about finding this person.” There was a long pause then, where Bucky just listened to Sam’s breathing.
Eventually: “I’ll help you.”
Bucky smiled. “Thank you.”
Days passed and Bucky wondered endlessly about who she could be. It was unlikely that she worked for HYDRA, at least exclusively, otherwise they wouldn’t have scrubbed his memory of her. But he didn’t even know if that waswhat had happened. He didn’t know anything at all. Sam got back to Bucky after a week of him just standing at his apartment window, waiting for a memory to stroll past on the street below.
“So, I gave the name you sent me to a friend at SHIELD - ”
“Who?”
“Just Sharon, don’t worry, she won’t tell anyone.”
“Okay, good. Thanks.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up though, Buck. SHIELD’s files have been pretty corroded ever since it dissolved years ago. Their intel is like Swiss cheese.”
“Yeah, I know. It could be a start, though. I don’t know what else to do. I tried Zemo but - ”
“What the hell, man?”
“It was just a phone call. He seemed as clueless as me, although he did say it was possible that HYDRA tampered with everyone’s memories, even its own members.”
“Maybe we should go and see the wizard guy.”
“No, that sounds like a very bad idea. We don’t even know him that well – I know the only time you talked to him was when we did the whole portal thing, because you kept on telling him you had to be over to Steve’s left.”
“Why are you always making fun of me for that? Everyone else thought it was cool.”
Bucky laughed. “I thought it was cool.”
“I’ll let you know when I hear anything, okay? I’ll come see you.”
“Okay, Sam. See you then.”
Just an hour later and Bucky was receiving another call. He’d never gotten so many in twenty-four hours. The number was withheld, and so Bucky didn’t answer it, letting it ring out and then blocking the caller. Thirty seconds later and his phone was ringing again, another ‘Unknown Caller ID’ flashing on his Nokia. This kept happening, and only on the fourth time did he answer the call, staying silent until the other person spoke. Bucky hated saying ‘Hello?’ into the void like a complete dumbass when he picked up the phone.
“What the fuck, Barnes?"
“Fury?”
<< Chapter One | Chapter Three >>
tags: @mayasreadingnook @writing-for-marvel @howlermonkey69
115 notes · View notes