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seren1tyhaze · 6 months

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road snacks

PAIRING: haechan x afab reader

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: a cross country move with your boyfriend is exciting and sometimes a little more steamy than you thought it would be

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I officially present my first Kinktober 2023 entry! This is another piece I had finished but was trying to finish other wips but don't want to hold off posting things that are ready anymore. Please enjoy prompt number 16 "Public" :)

WARNINGS: explicit smut, public sex, soft Haechan who is actually not very soft

PLAYLIST: Lost in the Light by Bahamas, Yacht by NCT 127, Malibu 1992 by COIN, Daylight by Matt and Kim, Catch by Epik High + HWASA

The sun is starting its descent in the horizon, bright rays stretching across the sky as you stretch your arms across the dashboard in a deep stretch. It’s nearing the sixth hour of the long first day of your road trip and your energy is starting to fade. You’ve been up since early this morning, taking on the first few hours of driving before swapping with your auburn haired boyfriend currently tapping his thumbs on the leather wheel car beside you, humming lightly to the music filtering through the sound system.

Leaning back in your seat, you sink down, letting your eyes slip shut as you lean your head against the window and let the sun warm your bare arms and face. The music is calm and filled with beautiful harmonies, lulling you to sleep for the first time on the journey. You had promised each other you would help whoever was driving stay awake, but with plans to stop at nightfall at a hotel, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a short cat nap.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you feel a light brushing of fingers along your exposed shoulder and you reluctantly push your eyes open to see an apologetic gaze from the handsome man next to you.

“Babe, I’m so sorry, could you hand me something from the cooler?” Hyuck asks, applying some pressure to your shoulder to massage it with his fingers.

You melt into the touch, nuzzling your cheek warmly against his hand before nodding, unbuckling your seatbelt to carefully lean between the front two seats and open the cooler in the back. Travelling together has been a dream, stopping at different tourist spots on the way, letting him take pictures of you on his film camera, and charting out which cities along the way had all-you-can-eat hot pot.

“Water? Ginger ale?” you ask, wedging your waist between the seats to get a better angle.

Suddenly you feel Hyuck’s hand on you, causing you to jump and your upper body to lurch forward, trapping you between the seats.

“HYUCK!” you squeal, craning your neck to try to get his attention.

“What?!” he whines back, laughter seeping in as you feel the car slow down, easing his foot off the gas to reduce speed.

Without further explanation, he spreads his hand out over your ass, kneading with his fingertips slowly, just as he had been doing to your shoulder a few moments before. Despite the awkward angle you are currently curled into, you sigh and feel your cheeks start to heat. Despite all the alone time on the trip so far, there hadn’t been much time for anything beyond quick kisses or spooning in bed in the weeks leading up to the move. You’ve both been so busy and exhausted that every night your eyes have slipped shut the minute your heads hit the pillow.

“I’m sorry, what am I supposed to do when you’re on display for me and I’ve been horny for days,” he adds, voice dropping into a gruff tone as his hand moves between your thighs that are pressed together from the position.

“I thought you wanted something from the cooler,” you reply, trailing off as you feel him slide his fingers slide up the seam of your leggings, getting dangerously close to your core.

“You know what, I am kind of hungry, now that you mention it…” he replies, applying more pressure to your ass with his thumb, glancing up in the rear view mirror wickedly as he pulls off the highway and into a deserted corner of a rest stop.

As he puts the car in park, you wiggle trying to free yourself from the awkward position, feeling your calf starting to cramp. You let the lid to the cooler drop shut, knowing he’s definitely not thinking about that drink anymore.

Hyuck turns around in his seat, moving his hands to your waist, making contact with your bare skin from your shirt riding up just below your breasts. He pulls you gently so you are no longer wedged between the seats but keeping your ass close to his face.

“Now, how about that snack,” he murmurs barely audibly as cool air sends shivers up your spine when Hyuck pulls at the waistband of your leggings, exposing you fully.

“Donghyuck!” you cry out, arms tensing up and teeth digging into your bottom lip. The sun is setting slowly and a hazy dusk covers the sky. Anyone walking by would definitely be able to see and your cheeks burn at the thought of someone tapping on the window or pulling out their phone at the sight.

He only laughs, dipping his head down to press kisses at the thin lines of the bear tattoo on your lower back, laving at the skin there with his tongue as he always does. His hand slides up your chest, massaging you there and taking your nipple in between his fingers to squeeze it gently. A moan bubbles up in your throat and you dig your palms into the back seat below you, letting your head drop down.

Hyuck keeps kissing your skin, brushing his lips over and over, making you squirm. He gently lifts your hips up to give him a better angle, pushing your thighs open gently and lowering his head between them. You can feel his breath cool across your dripping core, arousal building in you and your temperature starting to rise in the cramped car.

“Baby, please,” you groan, turning your head to try to make eye contact with him as he continues to tease you.

“Begging? We’re begging now, are we? I thought you were scared someone would see,” he chuckles cruelly, sitting back and dragging a finger suddenly through your arousal before pulling it up to his lips and loudly sucking on the wet digit.

You groan in annoyance, feeling frustrated at not being able to move and have a sneaking suspicion he’s going to edge you despite the urgency of the situation.

“Please Hyuckie, I need your mouth on me now,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the soft music still playing in the car.

His eyes darken at the sound of the nickname in a lust-filled tone and his hands return to your ass cheeks, spreading them lightly to give him better access. His mouth is suddenly on you, tongue dragging along you to gather your arousal on his tongue, swirling at your clit. Your legs start to shake with pleasure and he tightens his grip as he slides a hand up your back to push your ass up further.

You don’t realize you’re holding in your moans until you taste blood in your mouth, having punctured your lip lightly. You know you aren’t going to last long after weeks without sex so you push your hips back, grinding against his lips for more friction.

You can feel him smile against you, pulling you even closer to him by the waist, moaning against your core and tasting every inch of you. He was starving, nose bumping up against your clit repeatedly and sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your mouth drops open to warn him of your impending orgasm but there’s no time as it crashes over you, a strangled cry falling from your lips that surely could be heard by anyone parked nearby. His grip on your waist tightens as you try to pull away, refusing to breathe until he’s worked you through your pleasure with his wicked tongue.

He finally breaks away from you with a messy sounding smack of his lips and you don’t need to look back at him to know that his cheeks are flushed and silky strands are dangling on the sides of his forehead. He pulls your leggings up for you and gently pulls you back into the passenger seat, slumping back into his own once you’re settled.

You’re out of breath and your arm hurts slightly from being pressed in an awkward position for so long. Your chest is heaving underneath the thin material of your shirt and you sigh, finally bringing your eyes up to meet your boyfriend’s gaze.

He’s smirking deviously, as he always does, and his legs are spread wide, cock visibly hard in his loose sweatpants. There’s a slight sheen across his forehead and his lips are still wet. You flush at the sight of him, heart pounding in your chest as you reach forward to close the space between you. You can taste yourself on his lips and moan into his mouth as your tongue makes contact with his. You run your fingers through his hair, dragging his head back to break the kiss and meet his eyes again.

“Now, is my boyfriend going to let me have snack time too? Or is he not going to share?” you ask menacingly, shoving your free hand down the waistband of his pants suddenly to grasp at his cock.

All he can do in reaction is moan, letting his eyes roll back as his head gently hits the window as you tug on his sweatpants and lower your lips over his lap. As much as he craves eating you out, you know blow jobs are his biggest weakness and it was your turn for payback in the darkening parking lot on the side of the highway.

This trip might end up taking longer than you both had planned if your quick snack breaks turned into full course meals, but neither of you really minded.

#nct smut #nct x reader #nct fanfic #haechan x reader #haechan x y/n #haechan x you #haechan smut #kinktober #nct kinktober

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sirianasims · 3 months

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I tried to stay positive, telling myself that it would get better. But as the months passed, things didn’t improve.

Samuel was understandably drained when he came back from the hospital after yet another 16 hour shift. Sometimes he didn’t even reheat the leftovers I’d saved for him, but just ate his dinner cold in the kitchen at 2 AM.

On nights like that he would just pass out on the couch instead of coming upstairs.

On the days he managed to make it to bed, it probably wasn’t much better. The girls would often get up during the night and it was easier to just let them sleep in our bed instead of wasting time making them go back to their own.

Not only were we exhausted, but we also kept running into another one of what Samuel simply referred to as my issues.

“Do you really have to, Samuel?”

“It’s just a glass of wine, Freya.”

“You say that, but why do you have to drink it?”

“Because I enjoy it. And this one pairs well with steak.”

“There are other enjoyable beverages in the world, why does it have to be alcohol?”

“It’s not like I drink it to get drunk, Freya! A single glass of wine every other week will hardly put me at any risk for alcoholism!”

“I just don’t see why it’s necessary…”

“It’s not, Freya, that’s the point. If it was necessary, I would have a problem. Can’t I have just one thing that I enjoy for no reason around here?”

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to cling to him, keep him in my arms forever and set everything right, but instead I found myself pushing him further and further away.

Samuel was the logical one, the rational one, the one asking if we could please not do this in front of the girls.

I knew that I was pushing his buttons to get a reaction, to see his cool and collected façade finally crack, but it never did. Even when I felt myself dissolving into desperation and tears, he kept it up.

He would look at me like I was a patient and he was my physician, calmly explaining to me that I was hysterical and things would be fine if only I would trust him to help.

Always so professional when he put on the doctor face. I hated it.

He didn’t understand the problem. Having a bit of wine often made him flirty, and I just… couldn’t. I missed him terribly, needed his touch, but when he came to bed with the combination of toothpaste and alcohol on his breath, I wanted to throw up. Sex was definitely not happening.

The rejection always frustrated him, of course. I had tried to explain that I just didn’t like the smell of alcohol on his breath, that it made me not want to kiss him, but he accused me of overreacting as usual.

He seemed to suspect that I was withholding intimacy as some form of punishment and started preemptively sleeping on the couch after having a drink. As if he wasn’t allowed in our bed just because I wouldn’t kiss him.

Who is withholding intimacy now, Samuel?

Some days the thoughts would assault me the minute I heard the car leave the driveway in the mornings. He was going to leave me, I just knew it. Any day now. He said he loved me, but did he really? He felt so distant, closed off. I could never quite reach him.

Had he actually stopped loving me during those seven years after I first rejected him? Or had he maybe fallen out of love with me after we got married? As the days became filled with work and diapers, the nights too filled with crying babies to risk making any more?

Maybe he was just going along with it. Out of pity? Or for the kids?

I thought back to the women he had dated before me. Did he ever lie awake at night and wish he’d picked one of them instead? Maybe someone less neurotic. Less emotional.

Once more I found myself wondering if he would have chosen me, given a second choice. We said ‘I do’, we made a promise to each other – forever and always.

But if he could start over, knowing what would happen to us, would he still be my husband?

Or would he be happily married to someone else right now?

Someone who had their shit together.

Someone who wasn’t me.

It felt like I knew the answer.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen4 #freya duchelli #samuel ward #hailey duchelli #ivy duchelli

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theladyofbloodshed · 5 months

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Hi. I really admire your writng and love all your fic very much. Really,as a reader i cant wrap my head around how incredible your writing are. But as a fellow writer, it got me thinking how you balance your day working-personal life-reading-writing. I just enter corporate life and it was exhausting. How do you manage your time to write and is it hard for you to keep your interest in writing while working?

Thank youu and no, i think your chrismast deco look very beautiful. If I visit your house i would love staying around the tree with a dim light and a warm tea.

Thank you so much for the message. That's incredibly kind of you. You are welcome for a cup of tea any time!

I will break down my day under the read more.

05:40 - partner wakes up for work (waking me up) 06:10 - partner leaves for work and I get up 07:00 - in the car to work 07:30 - at work. I don't get paid until 08:30 but I literally would not be ready for the kids if I came in at that time, plus I'm already awake (and definitely a morning person). I'm usually alone in the class until around that time so I tend to have an audiobook on while I'm getting the class ready. I teach in a different classroom every single day, so I have to be organised. 16:00 - finish work 16:30 - home for a cup of tea and usually go on social media/write 18:00 - cook dinner which usually takes about an hour After that, I either spend time with my partner, read, or write. The only day I haven't written something was when I had to be at work until nearly 9pm for a halloween party, but generally, I write every single day. I will be honest in that I don't really have a social life. I've only really got one friend and she lives 60 miles away. I cancelled my gym membership because I hate going after work in winter and I've been so ill for the last couple of months that it was a waste of money. At the weekends, my partner and I might go to a coffee shop or a walk, but most of the time I am writing. It's nothing I have to force. I look forward to writing every single day. If I found it a chore, I wouldn't do it. Sometimes, I am super tired from work too and have a low output, but in those times I'll lay on the bed or take a bath with some music on and still be imagining scenarios. If you are exhausted, don't push it. If I've imagined a scene enough then I know exactly how it will play out to make the writing easier. My brain almost thinks in a writer mode now, like instead of seeing the scene, I'll also be narrating it.

I am constantly thinking about my writing. When I drive, I am imagining scenarios/dialogue. If I go for a walk alone, my headphones are on to dissociate and imagine. For me, it's all consuming. Weirdly, none of my new colleagues know I have any books and I've just mentioned it in passing to my family because we're not close and they don't really care. Even my partner has no clue about character names or anything because he hasn't read them. It's got to the point where I have RSI in my hand from typing so much. Today, I've written about 5000 words and have written 100k words for a single book since October.

It is hard for me to switch off sometimes. I do wonder if I have some sort of ADHD because I have to be doing something at all times. When I'm at work for my planning time, I'm usually doing all 8 jobs on my to do list at the same time, like this page is loading so I'll start this email then go back to that lesson plan then reply to that other person. I cannot just sit and watch tv, I either have to be sewing, or writing by hand, or typing. The only time I do nothing is when I sleep lmao. I've always been that way though.

In terms of reading, I've really struggled this year. Most books have been 2/3 star reads for me - which is really unlike me. I'm usually super generous with 5 stars. I've had to force myself to sit and read a lot because I'll just scroll on my phone otherwise when I'm bored.

I wish I had kids, but I don't, and thankfully my partner also cooks and cleans so if its his turn to cook, I can carry on writing. Sometimes it has caused arguments so I try to make a conscious effort to put my laptop down and spend quality time together. Writing is just everything to me. I love it. It's all I ever want to do. But, I'm also not a night person, so my laptop is usually off before 9pm and I'm asleep by half past 9 nearly every night ha.

#anon asks #a long ramble as always

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featherlight-whispers · 1 year

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What living outside of your natural sleep-wake cycle feels like: a (long) DSPD symptom list for writers

Note: This list is based on my experiences as someone who’s been living (almost) constantly outside of my natural sleep hours. For reference, my sleep-wake cycle is from 7.00-8.00 to 16.00-17.00 and I’ve been sleeping from 00.00-01.00 to 05.00-06.00 for the past two years. This isn’t intended to be a diagnosis checklist, just my personal experience as someone with DSPD. This is for authors who want to write characters with this disorder or people who want to know more about this topic. Full detailed list below the cut.

Dry eyes. When I wake up, I feel as if I’ve been staring at a computer screen with the brightness to the max in a dim room for 14 hours. This feeling usually goes away within 2 to 3 hours of waking up. Eye drops help with this.

Alternating bursts of energy and sudden sleepiness. I’ll elaborate more on the sleepiness, but the excessive daytime sleepiness isn’t linear nor consistent. I can be nodding off one hour and being perfectly awake the next.

Sudden sleepiness. I wake up groggy every day, but there are some where I get energy quite soon. However, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be energetic all day long. I usually nod off when I’m doing something passive like writing something down from a board or listening to someone talk for a very long time without being able to make it into a conversation (for example, being in a lecture). I know when I’m going to fall asleep. I’ll start feeling heavier and notice my focus getting worse and worse until I nod off for what feels like a few seconds, wake up for a minute or two and then fall asleep again. It’s a very light sleep, so if I get called my name I usually wake up, and some people can fall asleep sitting up (like me), so the situation goes like this: I’m paying attention in class, and within some minutes of noticing the tiredness get worse I’ll be dozing intermittently, sitting upright. Getting up and walking around can help with preventing the sleep, but as soon as I sit down it happens again. Now, this is a pretty extreme case. It started happening when I was 16 (symptoms worsen during adolescence), but before that it was a tolerable tiredness. The fact that I could lay my head down in class and sleep probably helped too.

Melatonin pills will make everything worse. I’ve had melatonin and natural sleep-inducing herb-based pills prescribed. Neither work. They make you fall asleep fast, yes, but the sleep quality is even worse than usual and I fall asleep during daytime more easily than without them

Shit sleep quality. For as long as I can remember, I have never woken up refreshed and fully rested. Sure, there are days when I wake up fine even if I don’t sleep in my natural hours, but they’re extremely rare. I usually wake up more tired than when I went to sleep the previous night.

You get more awake as the day goes on. In my case, the sudden sleepiness stops abruptly after 18.00, and the closer I get to my bedtime, the more awake I am.

Sometimes you want to take a nap and you can’t. When I wake up later in the day (12.00 and after), sometimes I want to take a nap because I’m still tired at 15.00, but because I don’t have that extreme tiredness of waking up at five/six it can be hard to actually fall asleep, no matter how tired I am.

Less patience and more sensitivity to light and noise. The worse you sleep, the less patience you have. It’s only natural. Now, I’m not sure if the second part is because of my sensory issues, but if you’re going to write a character with DSPD who isn’t autistic/ADHD/doesn’t have sensory issues, you may want to be careful including this, but I have noticed that I’m more sensitive to light and noise when I’ve slept worse than usual, sometimes to the point of headaches and a strong urge to bawl my eyes out.

The amount of time you sleep means absolutely nothing. The reason why I sleep five to six hours is because it’s as good as my sleep will get. If I sleep, say, three hours, my memory and focus would be seriously affected, but I could sleep eight or ten hours and, as long as I wake up when I’m not meant to, I will have the same symptoms. As I’ve said before, it’s also hard to fall asleep early, no matter how tired I am.

Waking up is a nightmare and you have a lot of pent-up frustration. The first part is pretty self-explanatory, but the second one is due to a myriad of reasons: I want to sleep well, why can’t I? Why have I been dealt such a shitty luck? You also want others to understand you, but, besides the dismissive and ableist people, no one truly realizes how exhausting it is to live like this.

You realize how many parts of life are dictated by sleep-wake cycles. People who are/have diurnal lifestyles have things way easier than people with nocturnal lives. Not only is everything closed at the wee hours of the night, besides emergency services, bars and clubs, but socialization is near impossible. All your friends in your time zone are asleep for most of your waking hours, and even people in other time zones go to sleep before you. There are some advantages to this, such as being paid more for doing the same thing as your coworkers during the night shift, but this is not the case always. Some industries do not have night shifts (obviously).

You get a lot of time for yourself. The good part of being awake while everyone else is asleep is that you can do anything (within reason) and the chances of being walked on/being seen are pretty low.

And finally...

You switch to your natural sleep cycle incredibly fast. I can go from waking up at six to going to sleep at eight in two days. It almost feels like getting out of an uncomfortable, stuffy suit and changing into your favorite pyjamas. It’s more comfortable and you feel better all-around.

There’s not a lot of research on DSPD, it’s not diagnosed often and people with this disorder often have other comorbid disorders, such as ADHD. There’s a high number of people with DSPD who have depression as well, but the causal relationship between them isn’t known yet.

I hope this post is of help with your characters and it was informative. My DMs and asks are open, please be nice and don’t even think about giving me “tips” to “improve my sleep” (istg I have heard the term sleep hygiene so many times im sick of it) unless it comes from someone with DSPD.

#DSPS #DSPD #featherlight-screams #long post #like #LONG #writers helping writers #character building #sleep disorder

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biderboy · 2 years

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letters he never wrote (they were written just never sent)

i. don’t you dream, james potter?

i do.

i didn’t as a child, when i try to remember now it’s all blurred. i never had dreams, in every sense. when i slept, it was just blank. a peaceful escape where i was nothing, the sky was nothing, the world was nothing.

when i was older, enough to think about a future i didn’t want, i didn’t dream then either. no ambitions to be a doctor, or a teacher. never wanted to have a family or own a business. nothing.

i believed dreams were foolish, there was no point is wishing and thinking of something you didn’t deserve. something you would never achieve. something that would just ruin you.

when i turned 16 i dreamt of you.

i realized then i was right, dreams could ruin you. completely, wholeheartedly, fully. they would tear you apart from the inside out, run around your mind all day, even when your eyes weren’t closed. they could completely take over your mind, soul and body.

i wanted you to ruin me.

i never wanted to dream of anything else, i never have either.

i dream of your smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. how your curls look when you get out of the rain, how you hand fits in the small of my back. your laugh. your love.

i dream of your death sometimes too.

those dreams are painful, horrifying, and leave me laying awake for hours after, mind racing and hands shaking.

i dreamt of your death last night.

it looked far more real than i expected.

did you know, james potter, that you look beautiful even in death?

maybe that’s why it scared me so much, i reckon not even the cold grasps of the darkness could ruin you. no matter how gruesome death is, it could never take your beauty away.

i hope tonight i dream of you living.

your eyes are brighter in life than death.

do you dream of me too, james potter? (do i die in those? are you the one begging, blood on your hands, wand broken on the floor, eyes filled with tears? arm i in your place, are you in mine? do you dream of killing me, james potter? or do you dream of loving me?)

ii. the stars and their thoughts

i spoke to the stars about you tonight.

i couldn’t sleep, and instead sat and wondered in you think of me in these times too.

you probably don’t, that’s okay. i don’t need you too. i am content with just the thought of you. in my head, i can hear your laugh. i can hear your voice, whispering to the stars with me.

i tell them about you.

i tell them about the jokes you made in the hall, about the way you tripped on your untied shoe last week. how your eyes search for something amongst the books you never actually pick up to read. how you hands sometimes shake when lily evans gets too close. how you dance. how you smell. how my heart is forever in your hands, broken and bleeding but still beating. just for you.

i wonder if they get tired of my ramblings, that’s why i’m writing you now. maybe the stars are tired of my thoughts, i am not though.

i could think about you every second. i do, sometimes. the only way to escape the hell i’ve found myself living in is when your face is running around my mind and you name is on the tip of my tongue.

the stars don’t care about these types of things though.

iii. i love you.

there are a lot of things i’ve done in this life. plenty more i’ll do in my next. some i’ve redone, again and again. mistakes i made in my past life that i made again in this one. that maybe i’ll fix next time.

in this life, i have bled. for my mother, for my brother, for whatever side you believe i fight for. both sides, no sides, for myself. i have cried. for lily evans, who will one day inevitably loose her other best friend. for remus lupin, who suffers and will continue to suffer for the rest of his days. for my brother, my mother, even if i refuse to acknowledge that now.

i have sweat, i have fought, i have angered, murdered, and grieved.

but i have only ever loved one man.

that’s you.

you know this already. i’ve whispered it against your skin hundreds of times. i’m traced it in your hands, your back, your chest. i’ve written it in books and notes. i’ve spelled it out in every way i know and then some.

you know.

you knew.

perhaps you think i don’t love you anymore. that’s the farthest from the truth, but i cannot blame you for those thoughts. i haven’t done anything to prove them wrong recently. i apologize for that.

this letter could tell you.

i should tell you.

i can’t. i’m leaving soon, and then maybe my death will remind you of the way my mouth felt on yours or how my eyes always seemed to find yours even in the darkness of the forest at night. maybe my death will remind you, of all the times i whispered to you, with the stars and moon as our witness, that i would love you even in death.

death is coming james potter.

i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you

#sorin?? wrote something????#YEAH BRO #i did #regulus black #regulus black drabble #regulus black fic #regulus black angst #james potter #james potter angst #jegulus #jegulus angst #jegulus fic #jegulus drabble #regulus x james #sorin writes

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wheat-privilege · 1 year

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I'm trying to follow the dietitian's advice for the management of illness, so I will be putting some stuff on this blog about keeping track of what I'm eating, and it will be tagged "food stuff" and "food" for you, for if you don't want to know about it! I will not be discussing actual numbers or energy values or anything. I know that's important to some of my followers.

(Some food stuff and nonspecific but still disordered eating below the cut.)

So I do often go for stretches of 15–16 hours without eating, and sometimes if I'm very anxious, I will not eat at all for days at a time. I have a complex relationship with food as it relates to chronic illness, and I have regrettably well documented mental health problems, but the relevant tl;dr is that selecting, cooking and actually eating food can be an organisational and mental health challenge (accordingly, sometimes my food choices are also extremely suboptimal).

Because of recent chronic illness stuff, the dietitian has informed me that I'm to try (try!) to eat every 3 hours or so while awake, so today was my first day trying pretty hard to meet my food obligations. So today I did:

8:30 AM: I had "fuck I forgot I promised to eat breakfast," which was 2 tablespoons of yoghurt from the container and 5 raspberries

11:00 AM "I'm meant to eat every 3 hours jfc," coffee with milk (so there's protein and fat, it counts, I asked) and I also remembered to buy lunch while on my coffee-seeking adventure

1:00 PM— I think I would simply expire if the sushi shop didn't make gf brown rice rolls, honestly. If they didn't, I think seriously the only alternative for purchase is like... spudbar, or maybe an entire tub of hommus from the city mart. Had one (1) sushi roll, with salmon, avocado, cucumber, brown rice.

Somewhere around 2:30–3:00 PM the other brown rice sushi roll at my desk!

6:30 PM a thrilling "vegetables from the fridge that I had to use up" soup with odds and ends of carrots, leek, celery, parsnip, turnip, parsley and onion, which I pureed with cream, and to which I added "pre cut chicken breast from the fridge that I really extra had to use up".

At 9:00 PM I guess I'll have a cup of tea with milk and a slice of cheese or something? That's the plan, anyway.

I'm kind of aiming to take each day as it comes, but I think this is going to be more of an organisational challenge than usual.

Because usually I'd just be like: 'Oh they're out of the specific sushi I want? That's fine, I just won't eat til I get home.' And you'd think that would be fine, wouldn't you!!! but, apparently, it's causing me capital-H Harm, so I gotta get more organised and make a bit of a mental shift around food consumption.

Gotta up my (nutrient-dense) snacking game! 🍛🥢

Maybe if I make some good snacks I'll be able to post pics of them here, too.

#food stuff #food #personal

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annie-is-growing · 11 months

Text

28 May 2023

some days are harder than others. sometimes there’s a period of time when we feel like our lives are falling apart and things are changing too quickly, including ourselves. we grow up, we make mistakes, we learn from them and we grown even more.

the last month was busy but also completely unproductive to be completely honest. i’ve been forcing myself to try loving life again and find some kind of purpose or motivation to do things. it hasn’t been easy. most days i sleep for 16-17 hours on end and wake up feeling even more tired. on other days i can’t sleep at all. i make myself stay awake until 3 or 4 in the morning and just scroll through tumblr, watch a movie i don’t even like or simply stare at the ceiling. depressive episodes are exhausting and its even harder to get back into a routine once you’ve been in a slump for a long time.

i’ve been trying things out lately and looking for inspiration in any form. i stopped attending violin classes because i felt absolutely useless every time i tried to play a piece and it comes out sounding worse than before. i’m okay with learning things on my own but i’m terrified of what everyone else will think of me. i’m a perfectionist and sometimes that completely ruins something i’m trying so hard to perfect. it hurts when you stop being good at the things you were once praised for and it hurts even worse when you’re trying to start new projects and they don’t work out.

i miss dancing. i miss studying. i want to play the violin. i want to read books. i want to learn languages. i want to write. i want to have fun with my friends without thinking about everything that i’m lacking in. i want to try on clothes without feeling horrible about the way i look. i want to exercise. i want to take care of myself. i want to do all these things but its obviously harder than just thinking about it.

i wanted to come up with a plan to become the best version of myself. to fight adversities and come up stronger than i was before. i want to achieve things before i go to college. and i’d like to love the person i am someday.

xoxo

#diary #manifesting #self improvement #self growth

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alwysalghthouse · 2 years

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alright, i need to get this off my chest, just word vomit, and maybe someone on here can relate or even give advice.

my apologies, i’m usually a reddit user, but reddit can be harmful with mental health topics and somehow tumblr is the best option (this isn’t an anti tumblr take i just think it’s funny the place called “hell site” is the genuine best place for this)

if ur anti self diagnosis just ignore me. i would happily get a professional diagnosis if i wasn’t poor and scrapping by the way it is without a whole person to pay. trust me, i want help and medication way more than you don’t want me to self diagnose. with that said i am not anti self diagnosing at all, and completely understand the many reasons people don’t seek a professional opinion and me wanting to seek it for myself does not mean i think everyone Must to be valid. just do whatever’s genuinely best for You. maybe this prefacing is just my anxiety as a chronic reddit user though, those people are brutal.

i’ve been aware of my dissociation issues for years but never really considered the chance that they’re a disorder of their own. i’m diagnosed autistic, adhd and have had psychotic episodes and also self diagnosed ocd, so like. , yea obviously dissociation is a part of it.

a few months ago i came to the understanding that i have dpdr, fair enough, easy. i acknowledged it, admitting the problem is the first step, we got it. it got worse from there, the more aware of the problem i became the worse it got.

my dissociation issues have gotten to a crushing point to where i don’t know how to cope with day to day life. again, sadly professional help isn’t on the table right now so i hope i can rely on some community help.

i have learned about dissociative amnesia and with looking into it and talking to my boyfriend, it is definitely something i experience. more so i’m grey outs and emotionally speaking, based off how i saw it described but let me know if my terminology is wrong. i think with learning about this i am going to start journaling again cause although sometimes it makes me feel even less connected, it helps my memory greatly and i feel like that’s a shot worth taking. other than journaling though i don’t know what to do, every other habit i used to have only enabled my ocd worse (checking, constant screenshots, hoarding anything with even an ounce of information on it). so i really need some help with how to cope with this.

my other issue is i forget where i am sometimes, i have crushing moments where i think i’m in a childhood home, hours where i forget what state i’m in while out running errands. this has been an issue since i was 12. at 12 i moved across the country to california, then at 16 i moved back across it to chicago, 18 back to california and late 19 to florida. i also had a pretty abusive childhood, physically, verbally and emotionally, with an extra helping of neglect. i know this has everything to do with it, but i don’t know how to cope. i don’t know how to ground myself, it just makes me feel even more disconnected.

when i was 13 i had a psychotic break caused by vivid nightmares, it triggered hallucinations that have lessened greatly but still happen from time to time. i have trouble figuring out if things are dreams or real, if information is from a dream or something that really happened. i find every way to gaslight myself in both directions no matter what i try. if i have a dream someone died, i’ll be convinced they really did die until i see many things as firm proof. sometimes i don’t know if i’m awake or dreaming.

i do not think i have DID or OSDD as i don’t run into too many identity issues (as a genderqueer person, it’s hard trying to figure out what’s a dissociative feeling and what’s a dysphoric feeling). it is worth saying however that i sometimes do find myself using “royal we” for myself and even using they/them (in a plural sense) for myself despite Literally hating they/them for me. i do struggle figuring out How i want to look, realizing i don’t look how i Think i do, and so on. i also tend to run into holes where my name (chosen or given) Doesn’t feel like mine after a few months, but again this could all be queer feelings and not mentally ill feelings, but if i’m letting it all hang out on tumblr dot com i might as well really commit and put it on the record. just to get other peoples thoughts on this because hey maybe it Does sound like DID/OSDD to someone who has it, maybe this sounds relatable as a Pre Realization feeling to someone who is now fully aware of it, i don’t know, i just want any and all help with this Whole problem. but again i genuinely do not believe i have DID, based off how friends describe it, and what i’ve researched, half of it doesn’t sound relatable at all.

as i’m sure you can see, it’s hard to live like this. i don’t want to Not live, i quite like living. i’m 21 now and live with my amazing boyfriend who is so much help. but i need something more and i can’t afford it so if anyone can relate, or knows anything that can help, please let me know!! i use discord too if you want to connect on discord! i am desperate for any sort of help with this.

#actually dissociative #dissociation #depersonalization #derealization #dissociative amnesia #dissociative fugue #pls help sexy mental illness tumblr

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heartcomms · 7 months

Text

days over a minute (II)

pairing: abby anderson x reader

a/n: part II !! i always feel obliged to apologise for my posts being long. i’m trying so hard to not rush anything so i ask again everyone please BARE WITH ME 🙏.

warnings: talks of addiction, swearing, talks of anxiety, display of anxiety.

you were barely awake when you heard the facetime ringtone coming from your phone. ellie had made a habit of calling you at odd hours due to the time zone differences, but you didn't mind. it was about 7 am for you and about 11 am for ellie. she called you to talk about the new video that the club's media team had posted. that day was abigail's first training session with the team since she came back to the team. you vividly remember trying not to scoff when everyone clapped for her as she stepped foot on the grass.

you couldn't believe it. you couldn't believe that she had the opportunity to return to work as if she deserved a reward after violently assaulting her girlfriend.

you did try to understand her at first, you had many conversations with vladlena, who you became more comfortable with, abigail’s parents split when she was very young so she mostly had her dad around during her childhood, however they fell out when she came out to him at 16, which is when she moved to england to join waltfield’s academy. they stopped sending each other updates after the third year she moved to england, but last year, she received a handwritten by her mother, announcing that her father was diagnosed with liver cancer.

and then abigail got laid off for 3 weeks due to her poor performances on the pitch, and later that year, abigail didn’t get a national team call up for the first time in 6 years. that made her hit rock bottom. and prescription after prescription, she just spiraled. you almost humorously scoffed at the sob story.

the day abigail came back, you made sure she knew that you didn’t want anything to do with her. you almost ran to the opposite direction every time she was near you or walking in your direction, when you had to make teams for the mock match you gripped bruna’s arms so she could lead you to the other team. at the end of the session, you barely listened to your head coach’s speech. you quickly hit the showers and left the training center.

you couldn’t say anything to ellie. you respected vladlena too much to go around to tell a story that’s not yours to tell. whenever abigail got brought up in conversation you’d just frown and change the subject, just like today.

“are you doing anything tonight, it’s match day, today.” you asked ellie, expecting her to stop talking about your infamous teammate.

ellie’s brows drew together and she hummed. you chewed on the inside of your cheek as you waited for her answer.

“i don’t know. i think dina wanted to go somewhere.” she almost whispered. like she knew you’d be a little offended.

things weren’t as comfortable between you and ellie since you went pro, you didn’t want to bring it up but you felt how tense she got sometimes, maybe it was the distance, you missed her too so you didn’t dig deeper.

“oh, great”, you paused, not sure what to say. “cool. that’s really great.” you said with a quick smile. you didn’t want to argue. like at all.

“yeah”, she smiled “i have to go though, text me before your match starts so i can watch it, okay?” you nodded and ended the call. you were a bit sad about ellie acting so casual about your first match with the team but decided to not think too much about it and got ready for the day.

you did some stretching exercises and then got up to make some breakfast. while eating you checked your phone and checked the club’s groupchat. you rolled your eyes at the thread of message sent by vladlena,

lena

🎉 first day back in the league 🎉

it’s game day team! we’re finally back, let’s give our best on the pitch today.

& let’s also give abby, y/n, sofia and bruna and the warmest welcome at widow park today.

let’s go walters ! 🤍

+44 7911 7890

thanks lena. let’s give our best today guys.

abigail’s number was the only one you didn’t save. for petty reasons. you liked lena’s message and left your phone to charge on the kitchen table. you cleaned up after yourself and left the room to take a shower, got dressed and texted lewis so he could come pick you up.

when you got to the stadium, you joined the team into the locker room. you greeted everyone with a wave and went to sit in your cubby. you were changing when you saw abigail get next you. she smiled at you and sat in the empty cubby next to yours. you didn’t smile but you looked back at her, waiting for her to speak.

“hey, um. i don’t know if lena told you,” you tried to not physically reacted at the fact that she was comfortable talking about vladlena with you. you were tempted to laugh at her entire demeanor. she carried herself was completely different from the last time you saw her. she fidgeted with her hands and slowly rocked in place. like a kid that had done something wrong and came to confessed to a parent.

“there’s a pre-match interview and uh, would you. do you think, you could do the interview with me ? it’s also your first match at home and lena said it would be great if, me, i mean. i’m the leader of team and it’s also my first match in a long time so, i, uh. yeah.”

“okay.” you said in an undertone.

“okay?” she asked again.

“yeah, sure.” you replied.

“okay, great. i’ll text lena to let her know you’re on board.” she smiled

you nodded at her back and continued to change, you pulled your hoodie over your head and put it in your bag and reached for your jersey. abigail was still there next to you. you looked back at her and saw her eyes dart between your chest and your face. you looked at your chest and saw that you were only wearing a bra. she was checking you out. abigail anderson just fucking checked you out. you would’ve jim’ed the camera if you were in the fucking office but this is real life. what the fuck. you could not dream of entertaining her any further so you crossed your arms and loudly asked,

“did you need anything else?” she looked up at you with wide eyes and got up. she was suddenly so close to you, you felt attacked by the way she towered over you.

“uh, sorry. i’m sorry. no. nothing else. thank you. thank you for doing this with me.” she muttered. you turned around and put on your jersey and threw her a tight lipped smile. you sat in your cubby to put on your socks and watched her walk to her own cubby, that was almost in front of yours, you watched her start her pre-match routine, how she sometimes chimed into the general chatter of the locker room. as you watched her, you couldn't help but feel discomfort. the same mouth that was laughing with teammates, who you now cared about, was the same one that cursed at vladlena and called her degrading names. the same hands that hugged people you now called friends, were the same ones that choked your other friend for pills. it was hard to think of anything else.

as you finished getting dressed, vladlena texted both you and abigail to come to the media room to get ready for the interview.

the excitement of the upcoming match started to build within you, you almost bolted out of the locker room, not waiting for abigail. when you reached the media room, you met lena at the door. you greeted her with a big smiled that she did not reciprocate when she saw abigail walking far behind you. she mouthed ‘be nice’ and waited for abigail to start prepping the both of you for the interview. she went over the questions you could possibly get, how you should sit, where you should look. she did the same with your teammate but less details, because obviously, she was already used to all of this. vladlena then guided you both into the media room where your team’s coach, was already sat, answering questions. lena waved at the coach from the back of the room and pointed at the two of you. he nodded back and finished his answer,

“but enough of that, you now get to speak with the real geniuses, abby anderson and y/n y/ln.” the entire room clapped. you both walked to the table and sat down. lena stayed next to the table pointed at a reporter so he could ask questions.

“hello, this is katie lauren from OORTE England, question for abby anderson please. abby, well first, welcome back. we’ve already asked your coach, mr moore, about your fitness, but i want to ask you personally, how you feel at the moment, are you okay? how ready are you? are you playing today?” the reporter sat back down. abby looked at the coach and then vladlena before answering, they both nodded, so she brought the mic up and answered,

“hi! thank you for your question, katie. my answer is going to be similar to the first one you got, yes i will play and i am very eager and ready to go back on the pitch, i’ve been back in training for almost a month now and yeah.” she smiled. “i’m ready.”

vladlena smiled at abby before pointing to another reporter.

“hello, marc lyes from le jt, question for y/n.” the man said in french.

“wait.” vladlena interrupted and point her ear to you and abigail meaning that you had to wear your eardbud in order to get a translation. but you knew french.

“i can understand, go on.” you looked at the man. he smiled at you, surprised.

“you speak french, that’s great.” he said in english. you weren’t fully fluent but you could hold a simple conversation. before waltfield, a french club had shown interest in you, so you dug up some of your old high school french notebooks.

“y/n, i would love to talk about your position, in your old team, you often played as a midfielder, but today, we can see your in a different position, center back. what do you think of your new position ?” he sat back down. you looked vladlena who gave an encouraging smile and spoke,

"it is not my favorite position but helping the team is what's most important." you and the reporter both laughed at the way you struggle to find the french word for 'team'.

“but um, i am very ready to help the team and bailey, jenni, leah, carolina and jelena who play midfield are amazing players so i think we're safe." you said in french. "i also hope my accent wasn’t too strong, i probably butchered some words, i’m sorry.” you announced. the reporter sat back on his sat and the mic had been passed to another reporter so he just gave you a nod and a thumbs up.

abigail spoke to you but directly into the the mic,

“you need to tutor me.” laughs erupted in the room, you hesitantly laugh, not getting where the joke was. lena pointed at another reporter,

“hello, elisha farr from the host, question for abby, last season, there has been some tension with you and the coaching staff of the team, mr moore who is your club’s coach but also the national usa women’s team was claimed responsible for your temporary layoff, did you both hear each other out, how are things between you and the coach.” bruna and vladlena warned you about the abigail and owen moore, your coach, situation. basically he was the one who found out her drug problem. he didn’t help her, he didn’t try to, he just laid abigail off for a few games and waited for her to get over it. and then he said some things about her is the media when he was asked why she didn’t get the call up at world cup. they’ve been butting heads since then.

“things are better, i would say. owen has his own views and i have mine, there are things we could’ve handled different and yeah there were obviously a lot of things said by the media and people having opinions which is absolutely fine, we hashed things out and i am still very grateful to get to learn from one of our nation’s best.” she didn’t directly look at you, but her head was turned in a way she still kind of see you. she had that unreadable look on her face, she looked somewhat sad but also annoyed.

the room was bathed in the soft glow of white ceiling panels, casting a gentle light on abigail's head. her hair cascaded down, revealing strands that were lighter than the rest, suggesting a recent dye job. the glint of two small earrings caught your attention, a detail you had never noticed before. in your limited interactions, you had only seen her in sports attire with her hair tied up, no jewelry. as she casually brushed her hair behind her ear, your gaze shifted to the delicate, shiny gold watch adorning her left wrist.

it all came to you: the lights, the voices, the noises.

you felt out of place as the world around you turned into a blur of voices and noise.

you were in over your head. this wasn't where you belonged. You weren't ready. you didn't have enough training.

the stress of the upcoming game, the high hopes from your teammates, and suddenly being in the spotlight with this interview... the room felt suffocating.

somehow, abigail sensed that you weren't present anymore and signaled to vladlena that she needed to end the conference. abigail got up as vladlena announced that both of you had to get ready for training, and she guided you out of the room. you didn't have time to thank her; you couldn't. you rushed to the bathroom, desperately seeking relief. your mind went blank as the words rolled out of your mouth,

“monday's child is fair of face

tuesday's child is full of grace

wednesday's child is full of woe

thursday's child has far to go

friday's child is loving and giving

saturday's child works hard for his living

and the child that is born on the sabbath day

is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.” you chanted as you paced.

one step for one day, one day for one minute. it’ll pass.

you didn’t stop when someone entered the room; you just couldn’t stop.

“hey. it’s abby.” she watched you as you paced. she stayed in front of the door.

“monday's child is fair of face

tuesday's child is full of grace

wednesday's child-” she got a little bit closer to you.

“i think you’re having an anxiety attack.” she hesitantly stated.

“thursday's child has far to go

friday's child is loving and giving

saturday's child works hard for his living-”

"okay, i’m going to get in front of you," she said, taking a step forward. “and we're going to breathe together." she jumped in front of you, halting your steps, and held both of your hands. you looked into her eyes and stopped chanting.

"great, y/n, now you breathe with me," she said, inhaling in an exaggerated manner and then exhaled. you copied her. it did help a little. you focused on her and tried not to think of anything else that could trigger you back into your compulsive thoughts. you both worked on your breathing until abigail saw your frantic eyes soften,

“i’m going to let go of you, okay?” and she did. she let go of both of hands, took a step back.

“i’m so s-”

“look. i know this is probably the worst time, like ever, to say this but i know you’re never going to talk to me ever again because you fucking hate me, which i understand, cause i’ve been so fucking terrible lately, and, and, and, what i did to lena, what you had to witness, it’s not me.” you were surprised, to say the least. “she told me, yeah.” she paused.

“lena, she’s…she’s too good for me. we talked and we’re okay now. she told me about how you’ve been there for her ever since that day and uh, thank you. thank you doing what i couldn’t do.”

you didn’t know what to say. what was there to say?

“you don’t have to say anything, i’m so sorry. you just,” she ran her hand through her hair and sighed. “you just had a panic attack and i’m fucking venting. sorry.” she turned around to leave but stopped before opening the door, “we’re just going over positions and tactics one last time with owen in the locker room, if you don’t want to come out at all, i’ll cover for you, it’s okay.” she left before you could reply.

abigail's unexpected act of kindness caught you off guard. despite everything, she showed genuine concern for your well-being and even took the time to help you calm down.

you took a deep breath and reach for the door, you stepped out of the bathroom, ready to face whatever awaited you in the locker room,

when you pushed the door, every head turned to look at you but you only abigail’s. she gave you smile, you gave back a small one and sat in your cubby.

there was a white board in the middle of the room and next to was owen giving orders and going over tactics. he decided to try a new formation which consists of 4 defenders, sofia on the left and bruna on the right, and you and abigail in the center. five midfielders, bailey, jenni, leah, carolina and jelena. and one striker, celine. this formation is defensively solid and easy to understand for you and your teammates.

you were playing in a new position, in a formation you had never played in, for a new club, at a new stadium, with a new team. you felt light-headed.

after owen chanted some words of encouragement, the entire team stood up and headed out onto the field.

the whistle blew and all your anxiety disappeared. although you didn't start, you were subbed on in the 87th minute, with the score still at 0-0. celine, your team's striker, got tackled by one of the opposing team's defenders. you didn't fully understand what had happened, but you saw abigail running towards the defender to confront her, and celine on the ground in tears, holding her leg. this led to a huge fight between the two teams. abigail received a yellow card for starting the fight, and the defender who tackled celine received a red card. as a result, your team was given a penalty kick because celine was in the penalty box.

surprisingly, abigail immediately nominated you to take the kick. the team didn't argue, and you ended up taking the kick. everything happened extremely quickly. abigail positioned the ball. you took a few steps back, sprinted towards the ball, and kicked it right into the back of the net.

you just scored your first professional goal. the crowd erupted into cheers as the ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the back of the net.

as your teammates surrounded you, jumping and shouting in celebration, you couldn't help but feel proud. as you made your way back to your position on the field, a wave of confidence washed over you. you felt strong and ready. when the final whistle blew, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. it was a small win but it was still your first win. after shaking hands with some players from the opposing teams, you returned to the locker room with your team. as soon as you could, you hurriedly reached for your phone to call ellie and share how the game went. the phone rang twice and went to voicemail. your heart slightly sank, but you weren't too disappointed. you tried to rationalize, thinking that maybe she was busy. after all, she did tell you she planned on going out with dina. you put your phone back into your gym bag and joined your team in the their little win celebration.

once the team had settled down, you all cleaned up and said your goodbyes. when you stepped out of the stadium, you encountered lewis, who had come to watch the match. he proposed to give you a ride back home. while in the car, you caught up with one another, he told you about his daughters, they came with him to watch the game, but since he knew that you didn't have any means to go back home, he preferred leaving them with their mom and taking you home. he also congratulated you on your winning goal. you and lewis got over the awkwardness of the first meeting really quick and got comfortable with one another just as quick. it’s been almost a month since you’ve been in england and he has been nothing but a friend to you. he even helped look for and move into your new apartment. on weekends you didn’t train, he’d make sure you weren’t too lonely and such. when you arrived near your apartment building. lewis dropped you off, and you decided to pick up some food from a nearby restaurant. not knowing the area too well, you ordered what sounded best to you and paid for the food. as you walked back to your apartment with the food in hand, you couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. from the anxiety attack in the bathroom to scoring your first professional goal, it had been a rollercoaster of emotions. as you exited the elevator, you noticed a figure standing in front of your apartment door, you got closer, you recognized the loose dark locks, she turned around and a smile instantly lit up her face when she saw you,

“dina, what are you doing here?” you asked as you approached your apartment door. she pressed her lips together and put on a more serious look.

“can we talk inside?” you simply nodded and unlocked the door, she followed you as you guided her into your apartment. you set the food on your open kitchen’s table and sat with her on the sofa. you looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

“me and ellie are done.”

thanks to everyone who interacted on my first post im soooo grateful <3333

#abby anderson x reader #abby x y/n #abby x you #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby tlou #abby anderson fics #abby the last of us

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cemeteryxdriven · 1 year

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I’m so fucking tired I feel nauseous bc I didn’t sleep at all again (I’m at like 26 hours awake rn kill me). and even if I pass the fuck out soon I’ve gotta go get a haircut at 3 and I desperately need said haircut so I can’t just cancel and sleep.

and my copycat cousin that drives me fucking nuts was the most disrespectful cunt to my grandma today to the point where I nearly threw hands with the motherfucker. and he’s now got glasses fucking IDENTICAL to mine and is going so far as to copy my speech patterns now. I swear I’m gonna fuckin lose it on this fuckwit sometime soon. he’s a massive cunt to everyone, annoying as fuck, and is such a fuckin melodramatic faker when it comes to pain and illness. we’ve literally witnessed him run, realize he was within eyeshot of us, and suddenly start limping like he’s been shot. four of us live with chronic pain every damn day, we’re not fuckin stupid. it’s blatantly obvious. fucking idiot.

this has turned into a vent post about my cousin but I do not care. he fucking creeps me out with his weird obsession with copying everything I do. when I was changing my hair color on the regular, he’d have the same color two weeks later. I started talking about Jackass in his presence, suddenly he loves it and gets a ryan dunn tattoo that I HAD PLANNED. I find or mention a new band, suddenly they’re his favorite. he’s stolen three fucking tattoo ideas from me and I literally threatened to sandpaper off his skin if he got any revenge era artwork because he was gonna get that next and I refuse to match with a shithead like him.

he’s had this weird copycat obsession with me for fucking years now, since he was like 16-17 and he’s now 23, and I’m about to fucking crack. the way he treated my grandma today was fucking disgraceful and my dad stepping in and telling him to shut up was the only reason the fucker didn’t end up on the floor. when it comes to my grandparents and parents I am downright vicious in their defense. I just really fucking hope the cunt doesn’t ruin his dad’s (third) wedding at the end of the month with some fucked up best man’s speech because neither my uncle nor his fiancée deserve that disrespect. nobody does.

punchable face. punchable punchable punchable face. rant over.

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i-hope-youre-hopeful · 1 year

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✨anxiety✨

I always want to journal but I never want to make time. Idk if this is really even helpful or if it’s just narcissistically enjoying talking about myself for several paragraphs. I think it’s helpful. It’s good to vent in a safe place.

Anxiety has faded to bitterness now. I don’t feel like being eloquent. I feel like shit. My mom woke me up, yelled at me for 15 minutes after yelling at me for an hour last night, and then hung up. I don’t want to do what im supposed to do so maybe I won’t. I feel guilt and shame for my sexual experience but not enough to stop it. Im too scared to talk to anyone about it. No one understands. Im scared something bad will happen to me because im sinning. Im sick of all this. Yesterday was a really good day except for the shame. Yesterday was the best day until my mom woke up. I actually spent some really nice time reading and eating sandwiches and drinking chai with my mom, and I went to class and it went well and I went to hunters and fucked up my psyche and then spent hours at Rachel’s doing fuck all and my mom wasn’t awake to bother me. I wish she had a life and would just leave me alone. I just want to be left alone.

I’m sick of either feeling desperate desire or feeling like shit for indulging in desperate desire. Hunter said he wants to marry me someday. I know he thinks he means it. I wonder if he’ll still be thinking that in 6 months. 6 years. 16 years. I wonder if I’ll be thinking that. He’s none of the things I promised myself I wouldn’t compromise on but he’s so much better than most everyone. He’s naive and optimistic and gentle and compassionate and kind. Im just afraid time will corrupt him like it usually does. My father was good once. My mother was good once. At least I think she was. Now I can’t stand to be around them sometimes. What if that is the inevitable conclusion of Hunter too? I don’t know anything.

Lately I don’t want to be at the apartment or the house. Nowhere feels safe. Nowhere feels like home really. Just my car. I sit in my car for great stretches of time. Anyway. Im not in the mood to feel this fear about making the wrong decision. I feel I must surely be fucking everything up and a part of me wishes I’d never met Hunter. It would be so much easier. It would crush him to know that. I wish to love him and to never hurt him. I just feel like you told me never to walk in this direction and now you’ve just opened the door and all but pushed me through it. It’s not your fault. I don’t know if it’s mine or not. I just want to be out of here. I don’t like being human today. I wish no longer to be. Later today I will enjoy life thoroughly for what it is and I will be happy to be alive. Then I will go be with my mom and hate her more by the hour and wish no longer to exist again. My dad will be here alone, as I wish I was. So it goes. I hate the constant dissonance of every aspect in my life. What do I do?

I do love Hunter, I think. I don’t know any different. I have no role models. I have no one to tell me what I should do or how I should interpret everything. I am terribly grateful for him. I just don’t trust him yet I guess. I don’t trust anything. Im sick of writing the same shit every day. It’s boring. Thank you for Hunter. Please don’t let me be fucking this up. I’m sick of this. Im tired of fighting it so I guess I’m just a bad Christian and that’s it. Thank you that I’m not a worship leader anymore. I don’t want to be that. I don’t deserve to be that. Help me.

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vivie777 · 2 years

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Weekday routine

This is how I normally spend my time during school. It sometimes change a bit to suit any other plans I might have, but I try to stick to this routine.

04:00 wake up

I wake up at 4 because that is the only time I can have peace in boarding school. I wash my face and brush my teeth, and have a glass of water in the morning so I can be fully awake and ready for the next activity. This takes around 15 minutes.

04:15-05:15 revision

I like to go over things I memorised last night to see if I remember them properly. I find it unproductive for me to do anything too complicated in the morning, but memorising vocabulary works well.

05:15-05:45 exercise

I do light workout such as pilates or yoga in the morning. My blood pressure is very low which made me struggle a lot in the morning, but after I started light exercises in the morning I felt better in school.

05:45-06:30 get ready for school

I take shower and put on light makeup for school. my school has uniforms so I don’t have to spend much time picking outfits, but I try to make it mroe interesting by putting on jewelries and wearing makeup.

06:30-07:00 breakfast

Because I live in a boarding school, I eat with my friends in the canteen. I usually have coffee or fruits in the morning so it doesn’t take me too long to eat, but I like to talk to my friends a bit and relax during breakfast.

07:00-15:00 school

There is not much thing to write for this because I just take classes and do work in school (obvi). I try to get homeworks done in school during break or lunch so I can focus on revision after school. When I have no urgent task to finish I hang out with my classmates. My school is very small, so I am close to most of the people in my year which makes socialising a lot easier.

15:00-16:00 extracurricular/break

I have extracurriculars on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday for a hour. When I don’t have them, I give myself a break and sometimes go get a drink from a cafe. Although I live in a strict boarding house I have freedom to some extent especially because I am a senior.

16:00-18:30 study

Any simply homework should be done during this period. After completing homeworks, I go over what I learned in school that day and make sure I understand everything.

18:30-19:00 dinner

A perk of being a boarding student is that I don’t have to think about what I should have for the meal. I just eat whatever looks good in the canteen, so there is really not that many things to say about my dinner.

19:00-22:30 study

I have IAs and EE to complete, so I normally work on them a bit. I have been having a lot of exams these days, so I also did past papers and exam questions. When I don’t have urgent tasks to finish, I read books and look at some stuff online.

22:30-23:15 get ready to sleep

Average human takes around 15 minutes to fall asleep, so this gives me solid 4 and half hours of sleep every day. I never had the need to sleep for too long so this works just fine for me. Before going to bed, I look at some Mandarin vocabs to memorise which I go over again the next morning.

#routine #studyblr #study motivation #girlblogging

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thatoneidiotdts · 3 years

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Sleeping (+morning routine) headcanons for some genshin boys

A/n: hello ladies and gentlemen I'm happy to announce that I may be back now that my life has decided to stop throwing endless shit at me. Now I also write for genshin so feel free to send asks in my inbox!!

Warnings: nightmares for xiao, favoritism in diluc's part, purposeful misspelling and slander in C*ilde's part,overall tooth rotting fluff

Zhong li

Sleeps like a rock (pun intended)

This man will not wake up unless there is an emergency

No matter how much noise you make or whatever is going on around him he'll stay there laying in bed completely silent

His breathing is so quiet you think he's dead half the time if not for his endless sleep talking

And you can actually have full on conversations with him while he's asleep

Also he sleeps in a solider position which leaves you to cling on him like a koala on a big ass tree

Sleeps in really soft bamboo pyjamas that you bought for him

Zhong li will only wake up at exactly 7:30 am no matter if it's a week day or a weekend/ his day off

He also doesn't stay in bed for more than 10 minutes unless as stated before its his day off and you aren't awake yet

The man will stay there taking in the sunshine rays from the window as he's looking at your peaceful face

After an hour or two hell rub your back and gently wake you up with forehead kisses while softly calling your name

When you finally wake up you usually start with the morning hygiene and whatnot

Also he will ask you if you want to take a morning bath together but absolutely respects you decision if you won't and you don't need to even give him a reason you declined in the first place but will make sure you know he loves you no matter what

After that he will sit down with you and drink tea and have breakfast with you for the next two hours

It's the only reason he wakes up so early

T̵̻̦̥͌͝e̸̟̗̮̮͌a̷̙͕͉̿̍͝

After that he goes to do his usual shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor

Venti

Menace to society

He either sleeps sprawled out in a starfish position with his arm and leg over your body or in a fetal position with his face buried in your breasts/chest

He usually sleeps in your clothes or in his everyday clothes

His little snores are super cute tho

Venti's snoring isn't super loud, it's actually really quiet but still there

Since he's a bard he stays at the Angel's share until it closes which is usually very late into the night so he sleeps until like 2pm

He isn't a heavy sleeper so you usually accidentally wake him up if you have some errands to run early in the morning

Venti will cling to you and pretend that he's asleep so that you can stay in bed with him

After like 20 minutes of this he finally let's you go and makes you promise him that you'll be back quickly

When you returned to your shared house from doing commissions you found him still sleeping in the bed so you quietly took a shower and snuggled in with him for another hour or two

After he finally wakes up for real this time he has breakfast lunch with you and goes off to Angel's share but not before giving you a thousand kisses

Kaeya

He's sleep schedule is ON POINT

He always gets back from Angel's share at exactly 1:00am, showers, eats and does his skin care routine and gets in bed around 1:30am

He also wakes up at exactly 9am but stays in bed until ten

He trashes through the night, he also talks in his sleep but it really weird and it's mostly things that are in English but you can't understand them at all

Kaeya is also a blanket snatcher and will snatch your blanket if you aren't holding it tightly

I feel like he also sleeps with socks on but has a few special pairs of socks that have some cute patterns that he would rather be caught working with the fatui by his own brother than wear them outside once

Also sleeps in silk pyjamas, doesn't care if the cotton ones are easier to breathe through, he likes the feeling of silk on his skin

Kaeya loves his personal space and he doesn't like to be touched while he sleeps but makes up for it when he's awake but still in bed

The only exception is when it's cold outside, I headcannon he's naturally cold and he doesn't like it at all

His morning routine is 90% of him taking care of his face and showering

His skincare routine is also more expensive than some people's houses so don't touch his products plz

Kaeya will gladly teach you the basics of skin care and will buy you your own products that thinks will suit your skin better

He's also almost late to work every day so every day you see him put on his shoes calmly, take in a deep breath and then he kisses you goodbye and runs off like a mad man in order to get to the headquarters on time

Diluc

He has so much unprocessed trauma I would be surprised is sleep schedule is anything but a mess

Diluc doesn't sleep a lot, he would have a normal sleep schedule but since he has a lot of stuff to do all the time it stops him from sleeping property

Not only does he work as a bartender at Angel's share when Charles can't he also works as the Mondstat's one and only Dark Night Hero

He usually comes home around 4 or 5 am and will only sleep until like 8 and you will have to force him to have a nap in the afternoon

Also he sleeps in his everyday clothing and he's sometimes too tired to even take his coat off

Diluc sleeps on his stomach which causes him to have back and neck problems but it's the only way he can actually fall asleep

He's a really light sleeper which also adds up to his sleeping problem

Also he snores loudly, like really loudly, and he only snores at night for some weird reason

You discovered that because one day you accidentally woke up at like 6 am and you couldn't fall back asleep because of his loud snoring but you didn't dare to move since you knew how little rest he gets

He's not a morning person at all, if he didn't hate alcohol, he would be the person that chugs half a bottle of vodka in the morning just to keep him awake

Diluc usually starts his morning off with some personal hygiene and then starts doing the endless paperwork without even having breakfast or anything to drink

So out will have to force him to eat and drink so that he doesn't pass out from work

On the rare days he doesn't have any work to do he usually sleeps them off to make up for the time he didn't sleep

Albedo

Chalk boy over here also has a terrible sleep schedule

He's not really forcing himself to stay up but rather doesn't realize how late it is

You will have to pull him out of his work in order for him to go to sleep

Albedo has a special pair of pyjamas that he wears when he's sleeping and he only wears them because for his last birthday Klee has given him a pair of pyjamas that were originally grey but she hand painted them herself with the help of Jean and Lisa and he's been sleeping in them ever since

And when i say every day I mean every day

But don't worry he hand washes them every two days and takes special care of them in order to not wash of the fabric paint

His snores are also really quiet and quite cute, I recommend commenting on that if you wanna see him blush ^-^

Albedo usually sleeps on his stomach but unlike Diluc he is small enough to not crush you under his weight so he usually sleeps with his head on your stomach or buried in your neck

Pease touch his hair he melts when you do

Albedo can sleep for a looonng time if you don't wake him up so he relies on you to wake him up or else he'll spend the next 16 hours in bed sleeping without a care in the wold

When he wake up he does his usual morning routine, which is usually a quick shower, breakfast, brushing his teeth and his hair out, and then goes off to work

He will absolutely make you have a nap with him in the afternoon or whenever he feels tired

Xiao

He doesn't sleep much, hell I don't this man sleeps at all sometimes

Adepti don't really require sleep or food like normal humans do

It took a lot of time for him to trust you enough to sleep besides him

Xiao doesn't feel safe while sleeping at all, he also fears that his karmic dept might take affect on you so he keeps his distance for quite some time

For the first month or two he would wear his normal every day clothes but then you gift him a cute plain green onesie and at first he straight up refused to put 'that thing' on but he gave in and hasn't sleep in anything else since

At first he would be the big spoon so that he can protect you from any harm but when you spooned him for the first time he felt so safe and warm he never wanted to let go of that feeling ever again

After that he would ask you under his breath if you could spoon him more often, you barely understood what he was saying but perfectly understood what he wanted and needed.

He also regularly has nightmares which causes him to trash around and maybe whack you in the face once or twice but you're quick to calm him down

Xiao never really realized that he was hurting you until he gently hugged you and you winced because he accidentally touched the small mark he left the previous night after having another nightmare

Doesn't touch you or sleep with you for a week after that, he already hurt you enough but you don't really care so you coaxed him into sleeping with you again very easily since he missed your warmth a lot

He doesn't really have a morning routine but he does wake up every morning before you so that he can teleport to the Huaguang Stone Forest to pick some Qingxin flowers for you

He's also gets back into your arms right before you wake up so that it seems like he never left in the first place

But you always notice the new fresh bouquet of the beautiful white flower on your desk and thank him for it

T*rtaglia

Listen here ok I'mma be real with y'all

Turbulence sleeps exactly one hour less than normal people but makes it seem like he gets like 2 hours of sleep per night

"Ugh I didn't sleep last night at all😩😏" Like bro stfu

He also makes jokes about sleeping so little because he was with you last night or that he was training so hard or doing a mountain of paper work

While you know damn well he was with you entire night sleeping like a baby right by your side

He sleeps naked solely so that one day when a hypothetical intruder gets into your home he can scare them off by yelling at them while being completely naked 💀

But he will put a pair of pyjamas on if you're uncomfortable

He mostly sleeps on his side because he needs to hold something while he's sleeping, if you aren't with him that night he will hug your pillow and sleep like that

Tagliatelle also doesn't like to sleep when in a cold room so he will have one of those water bottles that people use for back pain and will put one in the pillow he's holding and two in the blanket itself

He's totally a morning person and has no problem with getting out of the bed in less than like 10 minutes unless you ask him not to

If he has a day off he won't sleep in that much but he will curl up beside you and 'accidentally' place his head on your boobs/chest

Y'all saying Terrorism is the caring older brother? WRONG he's the forgotten middle child. we ofc know about Tonia, Anthon and Teucer but he also has two older brothers and at least one older sister

I feel like he's the middle child that had to take all the responsibilities when the older three/four moved out

So yeah he can make a damn fine breakfast for you without skipping a beat

But don't let me even start on his personal hygiene

Like shower are fine ok and he baths once a week only because he can but like

I know damn well his back teeth are ROTTING

He only uses mouthwash and brushes the front and bottom part of the teeth so that they look presentable meanwhile his back teeth got their souls sucked out

Moving on from that Tellurium can't really spend the whole morning with you so he will have to leave you late in the morning.

Coffee? :>

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

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Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

--------------

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#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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cocochannel00 · 3 years

Text

Things that Husband!Harry would definitely do (a thread)

(If you don’t think that Tiny Desk Harry doesn’t give off mad husband!harry vibes - he looks so fluffy- then we can’t be friends)

- He’d sneak into your room the night before the wedding because he missed you even though he knows its bad luck and when you’re mad at him for it he would just smile and place a kiss on your forehead and say “I don’t need any luck, I just need you”

- At your wedding reception he would walk around the room introducing you to everyone as “my wife” as if they didn’t already know who you were

- During your wedding dinner he’d spend the whole night whispering dirty jokes in your ear trying to make you laugh because he knew that even though it was your wedding day you were still spooked by all of the attention

- On your first year anniversary Harry wanted to surprise you by making you breakfast in bed so he started making pancakes as you slept. You woke up to the sound of your fire alarm going off and Harry blowing the smoke off a pan with a pillow. He’d give you a sheepish smile before mumbling a “maybe we get takeout this year?”

- During the holidays he’d hang mistletoe all around your house and force you to kiss him at every one. “Look love it’s mistletoe, you know what that means” he’d state with a grin. “Harry I just kissed you literally 2 minutes ago in the other room” you’d grumble “Doesn’t matter love, it’s mistletoe and those are the rules. Now come here and kiss your husband”

- Anytime the two of you would get into any sort of major fight where you would say “I hate you” he would shoot back “Well I love you so I guess you’re stuck with me” before going to sulk on the couch

- Whenever you went to his shows or stayed with him on tour he would force you to sit back stage and watch him from the wings so he could watch your reaction to his corny jokes and steal a kiss from you in between sets and on his bathroom breaks

- You agreed to be the designated drive for your group for a night out so Harry gets drunk and becomes extra clingy. He spends the entire night stuck to your side, shoving his face in your neck whispering “I’m going to marry you one day” to which you’d remind him quietly that you were already married. He’d then nod thoughtfully and mumbled “Well then I’m going to marry you again just in case”

- One night you would be tossing and turning in bed unable to sleep and you would accidentally wake up Harry. You’d apologies because you knew he had to wake up early the next day, but he would just shush you with a quick peck before repositioning you so that you could lay your head on his chest. He’d then softly start humming the tune to one of the new songs he was working on until you’d fall asleep

- Harry would convince you that he was capable of building the Ikea coat rack the two of you had bought for your new home on his own so you’d go into the room next door to take a nap. When you woke up and hour later you found him laying on the floor facetiming Mitch as he tried to figure out why the last piece wasn’t fitting properly only for you to look at it and realize he had built half of it backwards

- Harry would come home late from one his movie shoots and would mumble a quick hello as he walked in through the door. You’d be sitting on the couch watching and episode of Dateline and he would throw himself next to you and lay his head on your lap. You’d start running your hands through his hair as you finished watching the last couple of minutes of the episode before asking Harry how his day was only to realize he had passed out on your lap and was now quietly snoring, a small trail of drool slowly coming out of his mouth

- The next season of your favorite show Handmaid’s Tale had come out so you and Harry started watching it. Every five minutes Harry would ask you a question about the show until mid way through you looked at him and bursted out “Harry if you ask me one more question about the show I’m sending you to our room”. Harry would pout at you and sink into the couch, grumbling about how it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember what happened last season before he shoved some popcorn into his mouth

- You’d need to go shopping at Target one day to get some decorations for your niece's birthday party and Harry would decide to come along. “This is our list Harry, we’re not buying anything that’s not on the list” you’d say in the car before getting out, but it would be hopeless because every other aisle Harry would pick something up and say “babe we need to get this” and you would stare at him and say “is it on the list?” and he would grumble a no before sulking back down the aisle to put it back

- On road trips when he let you pick the music he would grumble when you would change the song every 30 seconds. “Love just choose a song, it’s not that difficult, gave you the bloody playlist” he’d state as you would continue to skip through the songs mumbling “I’m tired of that song though, just wanted to hear the chorus”. “Is that what you do with my songs too, just skip all the good parts to get to the bloody chorus?” he’d ask mockingly as you gave him a sheepish smile and mumbled a “sometimes” before finally picking a song

- It would be nearly 4 am and you would still be awake reading your book in bed as Harry slept soundly next to you. You could feel the tears running down your face as the main character just had their heartbroken and a soft sniffle left your nose which caused Harry to startle awake. “Babe what time is it?” he’d mumble as you continue reading, paying him no mind. He’d turn on his phone and groan as he saw the 4 flash at him before turning to see the tears on your face. “Oh no love did she get her heartbroken again? Sure they’ll get back together by the end” he’d state, knowing this was your third rom-com book of the month. You’d mumble a yes as Harry gently dog eared the page before you could protest. He turned off your lamp before tucking you into his side, pulling the covers up to your chin, letting you crying into his chest over your fictional characters

- You and Harry going to your 15th high school reunion together and he gets jealous when he sees you talking to your ex-boyfriend from when you were 16. He’d come up behind you and wrap an arm around your waist while placing a kiss to the side of your temple before reaching out his free hand to introduce himself. “Hello I’m Harry. The Husband” he’d say as he shook your ex’s hand just a little tighter then necessary

- Harry would be overly invested in your work place gossip so when the two of you would have dinner together he would constantly ask questions about what happened with your coworkers that day. “So did Stacy and Justin get caught yet or does Janet still have no idea? Did Kathleen ever get that promotion? If I ever see Garrett I’m going to punch him”

- He’d force you to wake up early with him so the two of you could workout together in your home gym, but you’d just sit on the floor against the mirror in your workout clothes staring at him. After several attempts at trying to get you to stretch with him he’d give up and say “If you’re not gonna workout at least give me some motivation babe” so he’d do his abs workout in front of you and every time he came up from a sit-up you’d give him a kiss

- Harry would come down with a cold and he would turn into a 5 year old boy and try to milk it for everything it’s worth. “Think the doctor mentioned that cuddles would really help with my headache, love.” “Harry I don’t think that’s what the doctor said” you’d reply as you placed a cold wash cloth on his forehead. “Don’t think I would have forgotten such an important order from her. Now, come here I want to cuddle my wife”

- He’d come home from the studio fidgeting with his beat-up blue iPod in his hand as you were finishing up a quick dinner for the two of you. He would gently place the iPod on the counter next to you as he poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. You’d stare at it for a minute before asking “Is it finished? Can I listen?”. He’d nod before you gave him a quick kiss and took the device to the living room, leaving him there with his thoughts. An hour later you came back into the kitchen, tears streaming down your face as you ran up to hug him. “Liked it?” he’d ask nervously, this being the first time you’d heard the finished album. “Absolutely loved it” you’d whisper back causing Harry to release a deep breath before taking your face in his hands and kissing you roughly

- He’d start every award acceptance speech with “I’d like to first thank my wife for always supporting me” and then try to catch your eye in the crowd, giving you a soft smile that was only meant for you before going on to thank everyone else

- “We need an intervention Harry. Why are your suits in my side of the closet?” you asked as you came down stairs with one of Harry’s Gucci suits. “I was running out of space and I didn’t think you would notice” he replied with a blush. “Well I did so either you move them or I’m throwing them out” “Love but they’re Gucci you can’t just-” “Ah ah ah I don’t care. My side of the closet” you’d state before dropping the suit in his lap and walking back upstairs

So many others come to mind but these are just a couple that came to mind. I’ll probably do a Dad!Harry version at some point as well

#harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #husband!harry #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic

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