#I CAN'T CHICKEN OUT! TAKE THAT ANXIETY BRAIN! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fadingdaggerr · 23 days

Note

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

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satellite-evans · 2 years

Text

Back to You

Pairing: Chris Evans x wife!reader

Summary: "Souls tend to go back to who feels like home."

Word count: 1.716 words

Warnings: Fluffff, description of anxiety ( Chris has anxiety) Let me know if I forgot something!

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope everyone is doing well. I saw Chris yesterday at the MTV award and how he didn't want to be there lmao so I wrote something about it. Hope you all love it <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any grammar mistakes. Requests and feedback are always welcome xxx

This is an 18+ Blog. I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Those were the only words that were going through Chris’ head right now. He couldn’t shake this feeling that he was too familiar with. He knew it all too well.

Anxiety.

No matter how old he was, or how many awards shows he went to, anxiety crept up his body and made him shake like a maniac. It felt like his whole body was on fire and no ocean in the world could put it out. He felt sweaty, like he ran 5 miles. But he was standing in the same place for 7 minutes. The way his heart was beating so fast felt so unhealthy to him, that he wanted to call 911 twice since he came to the awards show. But he couldn’t.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Chris asked himself the question why he came to these events all the time, but every question had the same answer : “Because you’re an actor, you meatball. You have to do this.”

It wasn’t the fan interactions he didn’t enjoy. No, those were his favorites, actually. It was the reporters and the news that came out the day after that freaked him out. What if he did something wrong? What if he didn’t look good enough? What if they started hating him?

Every what if question that possibly exists was keeping shooting at him while he stood there without protection. But one question kept bugging him constantly.

What if they disrespected you?

That’s where he drew the line. He might me a chicken without a head when it was about him, but for you he was a lion.

Now and then, a reporter ‘tries’ to talk about you with Chris. They tell him it must be hard for him you were not known in the celebrity world.

the truth was, it wasn’t. He actually loved that you were not known. It made Chris feel normal and warm inside. Knowing that he can come home to you, cuddle with you, watching a movie while you tell what happened at the office today. It felt cozy. Like home.

Your presence soothed him without a doubt. Hearing your laugh, seeing your smile. It made him feel comfortable.

Even on your wedding when he was shitting bricks. The moment he saw you, all the noise inside his brain went still. He only could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His heartbeat was so fast, it felt so unhealthy. But Chris didn’t want to call 911. Because if he died at that moment, he knew he would die as a lucky man.

He honestly wished you were with him right now, while he was repeating his most important script in his head.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He could hear the crowd cheering and screaming at whatever they saw. Chris didn’t want to hear that. The only thing that he wanted to hear right now was your voice. Your sweet, angelic voice that was better cure than any medicine that he ever took in his life. You solved every problem that he had like it was an easy math problem for children. God, he needed you so badly right now. If he had the chance, he would race home and cuddle you. But he can't. He made a promise. He has to do it.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Okay Chris, here’s your microphone and the card where that says the winner on it, you’ll be on after they show a trailer for the Lightyear movie, alright?” He simply nodded, taking the microphone and the card from the man, waiting for his time to ‘shine’. While his eyes were on the screen, he wasn’t actually watching his trailer. He was thinking about you just before he left his LA apartment. You were on the couch, wearing his Patriots hoodie, cuddling with dodger. He kissed you on the lips a couple of times. He remembers you saying that you loved him so much. He still remembers that he felt a teardrop on his cheek. He felt so lucky at that moment that you were his wife.

“Okay, Chris, you’re on!”

With the courage that was left in his body, he walked on the stage, seeing hundreds of people cheering, screaming and clapping for him. He felt his cheeks getting warmer and smiled at the love he was getting.

“Wow, that was a fun entrance. I’m honoured and excited to share all new sides of Buzz Lightyear that I know you’re all gonna love as much as I do. Movies have the power to capture our hearts. Bringing us unforgettable characters that stay with us our entire lives. They give us heroes to cheer for and inspire us the find the hero within ourselves. Here are the nominees for best movie.”

After his speech, he took a deep breath, thanking God that he didn’t mess up and that everything went smoothly so far. He watched on the screen every movie that was nominated and hoped that one day that one of his movies would be nominated too. But that was good to be true for Chris.

“And the golden popcorn goes to…”

He opened the card and saw SPIDERMAN NO WAY HOME written on it. He was very glad that a Marvel movie won the best movie and kept in mind to send Tom Holland a text.

“Spider man No way Home!” he said with a big smile while the crowd were screaming as loud as they could. Tom appeared on the big screen, thanking everyone while Chris looked at him proudly, seeing how much he grew as an actor. After he presented the award, he went backstage and asked his manager to give his phone back, checking if you sent a message. And just like he thought, there was a new message on his phone.

Y/N💙 :

Just watched you present the award, honey. You couldn't look more handsome. I’m genuinely proud of you! I can’t wait to see you win of those bad boys yourself. And don’t say that it’s too good to be true, honey, because you are an outstanding actor. You know you are. I love you so much. You don’t have to come directly home, you can stay at the after party ( if there is one lmao) Dodger and I will be fine. Enjoy honey, you deserve it. love you 🤍🤍🤍

Chris felt his eyes watering at your words. How were you so nice all the time? There was one place in the world where he wanted to be right now. Next to you. He didn’t care about the stupid after party or getting drunk. He only cared about you. His home.

“Nick, I’m going back to Y/N. My job is done here, okay? See you later.”

His manager was shocked hearing that he won’t attend the after party.

“You sure, man? I mean, yeah, your job is done, but we can hit the after party together. I can introduce you to some people, maybe.”

“Nah man, I would rather go home.”

So that’s what he did. After saying goodbye to his manager and some friends he saw, he stepped into his car and raced home. He drove back to you.

When he entered his apartment, he saw you eating a pizza while watching the Incredibles.

“Couldn’t control those pregnancy cravings, could ya honey?”

When you turned to look at him, he saw that there was sauce all over your chin and man that made him laugh. You never looked cuter in his eyes.

“Hey, don’t talk like you don’t know your own daughter. The girl loves to eat pizza at midnight. Speaking of, honey, what are you doing here? It thought you were staying at the after party since you didn’t answer my message back.”

He sat next to you and licked all the sauce off your chin, making you giggle.

“Nah, I would rather come back to you. And my baby girl who loves to eat pizza at midnight. Plus, I’m too old for partying now. I’m at the age where I watch Disney movies while my wife shares her pizza with me.” After hearing him say that, you took the pizza box from the coffee table away from Chris.

“I don’t recall me saying that I would share with you, honey. You can order your own pizza. This is mine.”

“Really? I thought it was my daughter’s.”

You looked at him, seeing how much he was enjoying the conversation.

“ Well, yeah, but she is inside my belly, isn’t she? So I have to eat the pizza for her. I’m performing a service for your daughter here. You should be thankful.”

He was. He was so thankful that you were his wife and the mother of his child. Never in a million years would Chris think he was lucky enough to find his soulmate. But he was, and he found that soulmate in you. No matter where he goes, he would always come back, to you.

“I am thankful honey, always.”

You felt bad that you didn’t share your pizza with him, so you offered a piece.

“Honey, no, I was just kidding. You and our baby can enjoy the pizza. I just want to enjoy watching this movie while I cuddle you.”

Seeing that he was serious, you put the pizza box back on the coffee table and snuggled close to Chris. You hugged him while he put an arm around you. You took his other hand and put in on your swollen belly, stroking it with him together.

“We love you so much, Chris.” Without taking your eyes off the screen, you said those words to him with much adoration in your voice. Chris smelled your hair, put his head on yours and kept rubbing your belly.

“I love you both so much Y/N, you do not even know. You guys are my everything. The only place I want to stay at. My home.”

#chris evans imagine #chris evans #cevans #fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #hande ercel #hande ercel fc #chris evans fic #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans drabble #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x pregnant!reader

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if-mirrormine · 8 months

Text

where's my love?

summary: rowan finally manages to work up the courage to tell grayson how she feels about him but when she accidentally overhears a conversation between grayson and kelsey, everything comes crashing down.

pairing: grayson x rowan (f!oc)

word count: 1992

this drabble is for the lovely @falon-fen! she asked for angst in the form of a love confession gone wrong and i went a little overboard but as the resident angst gremlin, who am i to say no? i really hope you enjoy bestie!

also a big shout out to @softfairies for proofreading this for me. ily bestie <3

rowan paces the length of her bedroom, her stomach in knots and anxiety crowding her chest, making it near impossible to breathe normally. gralex watches her curiously from her perch on the bed, her head tilted to the side and following her owner's movements in a way that's almost comical. she'd locked herself and the cat in here almost an hour ago with the intention of building up her courage, but all she's done since then is worry. her feelings for grayson are all she's been able to think about for days, having grown exponentially despite there being no real reason. nothing has changed, she's still rowan and he's still grayson, but there's something distinctly different about their relationship that she can't quite put her finger on. she knows she needs to tell him, and yet she doesn't know if she's willing to risk losing him altogether.

gralex lets out a long, drawn-out meow and rowan stops to look at her pet. "i'm trying, okay!" she says, settling her hands on her hips. "it's really nerve-wracking. what if he doesn't feel the same way?" the cat meows again, dispassionately, and she sighs, burying her face in her hands. "fine, i'm going!" she walks over to the door and wraps her fingers around the handle before stopping to look over her shoulder. "but if it doesn't work out, no more catnip." gralex does nothing but stare at her and she wilts slightly under the intensity in her big, yellow eyes. "i don't mean that," she adds quietly, slipping out of the room before she can talk herself out of it.

grayson's room is just down the hall, only eight steps away from hers. eight simple steps that she’s taken too many times to count, every day throughout this week, in the dead of night when the world is quiet and she feels confident enough to make her move. her confidence typically dwindles by the time she raises a hand to knock on the door and then she chickens out altogether, running back to the safety of her room before she can be caught. but not this time, she tells herself. this time she really is going to do it.

she comes to a stop in front of his room and takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. you can do this, she thinks as she flexes her fingers. the door is slightly ajar, and she can see him through the sliver of space, standing with his back to her and a hand in his hair. she realises then that he’s on the phone and she stops to listen to the conversation. she knows it’s wrong, but she just can’t seem to stop herself.

“there’s something i need to tell you,” he says, clearing his throat and ducking his head to look at his feet. “it’s important.”

rowan wracks her brain as she tries to think of who he might be talking to. besides herself, he doesn’t exactly have friends, and despite all the time he’s spent with kennedy and alex, they’re more her friends than his. she doubts he’d be talking to her mother or callie, and neither of his parents speak english. that only leaves kelsey; the only person he spends just as much time with as he does with her. but despite that, she can’t imagine what he might have to say to her.

“this isn’t easy for me --” he says, sighing as the woman on the other line cuts him off. after a moment, he nods, and rowan waits with bated breath to hear what he has to say. “okay, here goes...” he pauses momentarily and when he speaks next, the words tumble out of his mouth in a rush. “i love you! i’m in love with you, have been for a really, really long time. and i know i should've said something sooner but i've just been so afraid of ruining what we have.”

rowan sucks in a sharp breath, stumbling backwards and she feels as if her heart has just shattered in her chest. of course he’s in love with someone else, with the detective. she'd been an idiot to think she ever stood a chance in comparison, not when the detective is everything she’s not. confident and beautiful, she does and says whatever she wants, not caring what anyone else thinks. it's only natural that grayson would want to be with her instead.

silent tears begin to stream down her face as she rushes back to her bedroom, desperate for the safety that it provides. but as she presses her back against the door, struggling to breath, it feels all wrong. instead of feeling safe and protected, it just feels as though the walls are closing in on her, sucking all the air out of the room and suffocating her. gralex chirps softly at her from the bed and she rushes over to scoop the feline in her arms. cradling her, rowan buries her face in the soft, brown fur and attempts to stop crying. the tears don’t stop however and, in that moment, she realises she can't stay in the apartment any longer.

with gralex still clutched tight in her arms, she bolts out of her room and out the front door, desperately hoping to outrun the heartbreak that threatens to swallow her whole.

grayson stands idly in the middle of his room, his phone pressed to his ear and his free hand on his hip. the silence is almost deafening and as the seconds tick by, he clears his throat. “okay,” he says, his voice clipped. “your turn to say something.”

“i don’t know,” kelsey says and he rolls his eyes at her bored tone. “how do you really feel about rowan?”

“you’re not helping,” he grumbles, shifting on his feet before going to sit on the edge of his bed. he'd only asked the woman to help with finding a way to admit his feelings since she’s the only other person who knew him best, but he’s beginning to regret it now. at this point, it would be easier to just send his best friend an email confessing his love for her instead.

kelsey scoffs, though it’s evident she finds the whole thing amusing. “i’m just teasing you, gray,” she says. “it’s good; you’ve got this.”

“really?” he asks, dubious that the detective truly has that much faith in him. “you don’t think i'm gonna make a big fool of myself?”

“no, grayson,” she says, her tone dry. “honestly, it doesn’t matter what you say, just as long as you say it.”

he sighs again but nods nonetheless. “okay.”

“now go tell her and do not call me again unless it’s to tell me that you two are getting married.”

he laughs at that, letting himself hope for a moment. “might be a little early for a wedding, don’t you think?”

“whatever,” she says and despite not being able to see her, he can tell she’s rolling her eyes. “i mean it though; i’m picking emerson up from her dad’s in twenty minutes so i only want to hear from you if it’s good news.”

“you got it. tell em I said hi.”

after promising to do so, she hangs up and he stares down at his phone as if it holds more power than it really does. kelsey may have boosted his confidence somewhat but that doesn’t make it any less difficult. he's been carrying the fear of losing rowan for sixteen years; there’s no easy way to just put those feelings aside no matter how ready he feels to do so.

but then again, it’s been sixteen years. it’s time to be honest.

he stands tall, his head held high and his shoulders back, and struts out of his room with as much of kelsey's imparted confidence as he can muster. he walks straight towards rowan’s bedroom, knocking on the door before he can convince himself otherwise. he waits patiently, taking calm and measured breaths, but as the seconds tick by, he gets more anxious. when the seconds turn to minutes, he frowns and knocks again only to be met by stony silence.

“rowan?” he calls tentatively as he pushes open the door. the room is empty and he stands in the doorway in confusion. the last he’d seen her was an hour ago, when she rushed in here with gralex like her life depended on it. he hadn’t questioned it then but maybe he should’ve.

stepping back, he calls for her again, louder this time, as he walks through the apartment in search of her. when he finally stops in the living room, neither his best friend nor her cat to be found, his heart begins to race. he’s transported back ten years, reliving his worst nightmare where he lost the only person he’s ever been able to love. he rushes to find his phone and dials her number with shaking hands, praying that she’ll pick up to any god that will listen.

she picks up on the fifth ring, a disheartened “yeah?” filtering through the speaker and grayson breathes a sigh of relief. thank god she’s okay.

“hey,” he says, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. he shuts his eyes and drags a hand down his face. he needs to get it together. “where are you? and gralex?”

rowan takes a deep breath and he frowns at her hesitance, palpable even through the phone. “she’s with me,” she replies eventually. “i just... i went out for a walk.”

“do you know when you’ll be back?” he tries not sound desperate, like he needs her by his side at every waking moment, but it’s difficult not to when it’s the truth. “there’s something i need to talk to you about it.”

she inhales sharply, the sound freezing him in place and causing his worry to return tenfold. “i don’t know, grayson... not for a while.”

her words come out strained, almost as if she’s trying not to cry and grayson feels a fire light inside of him, his heart and lungs consumed by the flames. “what’s wrong?” he asks quickly, his tone pleading and if he weren’t so worried, he might’ve cringed at the sound.

“can we not do this right now?”

don’t say it, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut. please don’t say it. “do what, ro?”

something of a strangled sob crackles through the speaker and he feels his chest tighten painfully. “i just don’t want to speak to you right now,” she says through gritted teeth and he sinks down on the couch, his legs no longer willing to support him.

there it is.

“did –” he stops himself when his voice breaks and he clears his throat in hopes that it’ll conceal his hurt feelings. “did i do something wrong?”

she doesn’t answer for a long moment and he can picture the pain in her brown eyes, the quivering of her bottom lip, the tears streaking down her rosy cheeks. and he feels his own eyes start to well up. “i’ll see you later, gray,” she says quietly and there’s no mistaking the shake in her voice. a tell tale sign she’s begun to cry.

he begins to panic again, crying out an urgent “rowan, wait!” but she’s already hung up before he can even finish. he stares at his phone in shock as his emotions well up inside of him, his hurt and his anger and his worry all melting together into something new and indescribable and before he knows what he’s doing, he hurls his phone across the room with a roar.

after a moment, he sinks back down on the couch, his chest heaving and his face wet with tears. and as he sits by himself, the silence weighing heavy on his shoulders, he can’t help but feel like he’s lost her all over again.

#NO ONE LOOK AT ME #ill cry #mm: grayson #mirror mine

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sweaterkittensahoy · 7 days

Note

Curt/Harry prompt? A bit of chaos?

Jack honestly doesn't know what to do with the scene in front of him. Curt's got a toolbox open. Harry's holding a chicken against his chest. There are feathers all over the hardstand, and Jack's pretty sure the reason neither of them have been brained by anyone on ground crew is because the entire ground crew is in the event hall having a well-deserved afternoon movie.

"What--and damn you both for making me even fucking ask--are you doing?" Jack finally says.

Harry jerks, and he squeezes the chicken, and it squawks and pecks his finger. He yells and drops it. It goes running. Curt gives Jack an annoyed look.

"You're ruinin' our fun, Jack."

"I'm your Air Exec, Biddick. I'm supposed to."

"You let me punch that RAF guy."

Jack snorts. "Better I was there to make sure you didn't kick him while he was down than to leave you to it."

"Hey, Curt fights fair!" Harry says.

Jack looks at the chicken that has now calmed down and is simply wandering around the hardstand. He hears various amounts of clucking from several other toolboxes. "Really? Sneaking around behind the ground crew's back for this prank is playing fair?"

"You're not supposed to get caught pulling a prank," Harry says.

"And what the fuck are you doing here, Crosby? Shouldn't you be pretending to know nothing because your nerves can't handle it?"

"We're on a date," Curt says. "My pretty boy likes a little planned chaos now and again."

Jack stares. He blinks. He rubs his temple. "Date?" Curt nods and stands up, turning and slowly approaching the chicken, hands out to grab. Jack turns his attention to Harry. "Date?" he tries again.

"Can't go off base," Harry says like that explains anything.

Jack looks up at the sky, thinking of when he could just get in a fort and fly and maybe get shot down and tortured and not have to untangle a prank war and Harry Crosby having some sort of situational anxiety that Biddick--of all fucking people--could possibly be able to navigate so well he can take Harry on a date to prank the ground crew. "You know he's fucked a chicken, right?" he says.

"Oh, fuck you, Jack," Curt calls over his shoulder. "Only one of us here fucking a Chick is you, and I don't mean one of the Red Cross girls."

"How do you--"

"OH MY GOD," Harry shouts, and there's the anxiety Jack has not been missing but confused to see gone. "You and the Colonel?!"

"You and the delinquent?" Jack shoots back.

"Hey, my record's sealed, thanks," Curt replies, finally joining them again, the chicken under one arm. "And Jack, if you don't fucking mind, we've got five minutes to get three more birds into toolboxes before the movie starts wrapping up."

"Oh, forgive me for fucking up your schedule," Jack says. He watches Curt put the chicken in the toolbox, and then close the lid most of the way. "Are you--giving them an air hole?"

"We don't want them to die," Harry says. "They're on loan from the kitchen."

Jack makes a mental note to rip the kitchen crew a new asshole. "Of course," he says. "You wouldn't want to disrupt anything with this prank."

"You gonna keep busting my balls or help me out?" Curt asks as he walks over to a burlap sack and pulls out another chicken.

"I'll let Harry be the idiot getting near your balls," Jack replies. "And when the ground crew gets revenge for this, I'm not helping you."

"I'm not an idiot," Harry says. "He's just that good in bed."

Curt beams and grabs Harry's blouse, pulling him into a kiss. "Thanks, sweetheart," he says. "I like your dick, too."

Jack sighs and closes his eyes. He counts to ten. He still wants to kick Curt in the shins. So, he turns and leaves. Sometimes retreat is the only option.

#masters of the air #curtharry #the chickens story #jack kidd #air exec daddy is tired y'all

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frankiensteinsmonster · 5 months

Text

🎀 Things that help me Cope with OCD in my life 🎀

My OCD is driven by anxiety around contamination and living with my partner with allergies.

TW for Disordered Eating Habits caused by OCD and mention of intrusive thoughts!

🌧️ water bottles

for hydration. Bc of a million and one reasons, I can't drink water normally. Not only am I not used to it in the first place, but I have severe anxiety around contamination, and both my mental and physical health prevent me from doing the dishes, which can impact my ability to consume Any sort of substance.

🌧️ prepackaged foods

On that note, individually wrapped foods are a huge life saver. I can't eat off our normal kitchenware if I've ingested an allergen within five hours of eating (see next item) since I can't brush my teeth until then to be sure that I'm Clean. On top of this, I have other issues that impact my ability to eat. Things like granola bars, candy, sleeves of crackers, and packaged tuna/chicken are my go-tos but other foods exist. Fruit is also a good one if there's any around!

🌧️ disposable utensils

Once again, my brain is fucked and it makes me Not Eat and dishes are Hard + not always an option. Disposable utensils are IMMENSELY helpful.

🌧️ lotion

Handsanitzer is literally like holy water to me. This is not amazing for my health or my skin. I can at least help my skin with keeping lotion on hand. Pun unintentional, but welcomed.

🌧️ masks

Not only as a COVID precaution, but as a World precaution!! I feel so safe in my mask whenever I'm out and about + added bonus of not needing to worry about my face, esp with reflective hide-y sunglasses on. Also, more specifically, I worry less about breathing in other people's AIR or them spitting on my face as they speak around/to me, which in turn, gives me less violent intrusive thoughts which is great for both of us!

🌧️ gloves

Autism + OCD combo

I love the separation between me and the outside world via All my clothes (I am usually in long sleeves and tights), but adding casual gloves have been so great for my bc although washing my hands is easier, I can avoid needing to do that so much if I have a second pair of hands I can just take off and wash later

+, as mentioned. Sensory needs.

☔Things that I'm considering and why ☔

- Tweezers for picking out medicine from their jars.

I hate sticking my hand in there + it's really hard if it's a large jar bc if I feel like I've contaminating this big fuckin jar-- my options are Worry About It Every Time I Need A Tylenol (I have fibromyalgia btw, so that's like. Every fucking day) OR I throw it out and wait, in pain, until we can get a new bottle. Tweezers will fix me.

- Smaller bottle for my bulk medicine bottles.

Basically for the same reasons as above. If I end up feeling like I've contaminated a big bottle of pain medicine, it'll impact my ability to Drink Water if we don't have water bottles, which is something we're figuring out how to keep a steady supply of. So it can be a huge fucking struggle. If I have a smaller bottle and periodically refill it whenever I'm out of the little bottle out of my bulk stash, in the event that I've contaminated the little bottle, it will be more okay to throw away that bottle! Winning and thriving!

- Paper soaps for portability

Some bathrooms don't have soap and it's unfair and literally fucking disgusting. You can tell I'm mad about this. And sometimes I use up all my handsanitzer! It's not super often I need soap that just Isn't there when it's supposed to be, but to me that's all the more reason to keep some on my person at all times so I don't have to carry the shame of dirty, water washed hands 🤢🤢. Fml!

- Wet wipes

Inexpensive from what I understand, also portable AND multi use!

I use a cane, and wheelchair atm and am looking into getting elbow crutches as a happy medium bc my town isn't fucking accessible. That aside, I love wiping down strange and familiar surfaces alike, plus sometimes people touch my shit with it without my permission and that's just reality and sometimes even I need to touch my mobility aids with dirty, contaminated hands. 😞 Having antibacterial/soap wipes would make me feel so much safer in the world! (Antibacterial wipes alone cannot get rid of allergens on surfaces, soap and water is much more effective but Anything is better than Nothing and also I have.. ocd. Not everything I do is going to be logical.) Also!! Clean hands town, population: me (again)

#ocd #actually ocd #ocd tips #mental health tips #menhera #mental helath #actually neurodiverse #neurodivergent #neuropunk #mothie speaks up

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auroracalisto · 2 years

Text

pillow fort — this would be the first time you had stayed the night with eddie, ever. and in a bout of anxiety, he creates an abode of comfort. calmness was not in his nature. word count: 1.2k words tw: gn!reader, pre-established relationship, nervous eddie, eddie totally freaking out and not being like those other fics where he's super confident and shit until reader arrives cuz that's his babe, he can't be worried and shit in front of them (gotta be dramatic for his one and only), reader is said to like the labyrinth a/n: requested by @rebel-redwinchester ♡

Eddie was nervous.

Having you stay over for the first time was a big step, yes, but the fact that you were staying just made him even more stressed. What would you say when you saw his room? What the hell was he thinking? You’ve seen it all before. You’ve been to his trailer before. So why the hell was he so nervous?

Maybe you’d realize he was just as weird as everyone said he was if you stayed the whole night with him. Perhaps something would happen and then like a bad deal of poker, he’d fold and completely ruin everything. No, he was being ridiculous. Why the hell would any of that happen?

Why wouldn’t it?

But… maybe he was too hard on himself. He always was, and you always knew exactly what to say. But you weren’t here, and you wouldn’t be at his trailer for another two hours.

Should he cancel? He should call you up, telling you something happened and you can’t come over tonight. You’d have to make a rain check, because he chickened out last minute.

Eddie groaned, throwing himself back on his bed. He ran a hand over his face, his skin warm against his fingers.

“Shit!” he shouted up at the ceiling, a hand coming down to comb through his hair. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Eddie sat up.

He just had to get this over with.

You were his lover—his best friend. No one else’s. You wouldn’t make fun of him for anything. You wouldn’t just leave him. After all, you were coming to stay with him because you wanted to. He was being ridiculous. The crappy inner monologue needed to stop—you’d be here in a matter of time, and he’d still be laying there, wallowing in whatever anxiety had weaseled itself into his brain.

“Alright,” he breathed in, looking down at his hands for just a moment before they both formed a tight fist. “What would y/n do?”

He stood up from his bed, pacing back and forth for a minute. He already had food, and the movie selection was already picked out for the night, much to his dismay. He had music on standby, and his sweet guitar was ready for anything. But what could he do for you? To make your first night with him memorable?

He slammed his fist down into the palm of his hand, looking towards his bed.

“Blankets. I need blankets,” he said.

He rushed to the hall closet, pulling out as many as he could. He then threw them all on his bed, finding as many pillows as he could as well. He didn’t take any from his uncle's bed, or the couch, but he managed to find a couple more stowed away.

And then he set off to work.

Time passed quickly as Eddie made a pillow fort, laying extra blankets over his bed and his floor. It wasn’t much, given the limited space he had, but he made it as comfortable as he possibly could.

And then you knocked.

Eddie looked up from the mess he had strategically created, eyes comically wide.

“Shit,” he breathed out, scrambling to his feet. He pulled on his leather jacket, checking himself once more in the bathroom mirror before he rushed out to the door.

He pushed it open, smiling widely once he saw you.

“Well, hello there, your majesty,” he said, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. “Come on in, if you dare.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a soft laugh from you as you pushed through, sitting your duffle bag down on the counter.

“Where’s Wayne?”

“Already left for work,” he said, running a hand through his frizzy hair. “Just me and you for the night.”

You could feel your nerves creeping up your spine, cheeks burning as you looked back at him. “So what do you have planned, Munson?”

“What do I have planned?” he repeated, moving forward to wrap his arms around your torso. You had been dating for some time, now. Why was he so nervous?

Eddie grinned. “Maybe we could watch a movie. I rented that one you said you wanted to watch,” he said.

“You got Labyrinth?” you laughed. “Eddie Munson. No fucking way.”

“Yes, way,” he rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Eddie moved past you and grabbed your duffle bag, sliding his hand into yours before leading you back to his bedroom. He tossed your things to the side, glancing back at you as you looked at the pillow fort.

You let out a laugh, a smile spreading across your face. “Oh my god, what is this?”

“What does it look like?” he asked, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t about to admit he made it in a fit of panic. You didn’t need to know that.

“I love it. I haven’t made one since I was a kid,” you grinned, turning to face Eddie as you walked back to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Be careful!” he nearly shouted, lunging forward to keep a pillow from falling—if it did, it would mess the entire fort up. He looked up at you, realizing you were in close proximity due to his reaction. He began to grin. “Can’t have my castle crumbling, now can I? Not when its royal ruler just got here.”

“You’re full of shit,” you scoffed, unable to hide your smile.

“You know it,” he winked, pecking your lips quickly before he stood back up, placing his hands on his hips and admiring his work—well, mostly you, but he didn’t say that.

Realization dawned on him, the man sporting an agonizing expression as he suddenly fell to his knees. “Oh, shit, I should’ve put this in the living room!”

You burst out in a fit of laughter, your hands reaching forward and gripping onto the edge of his leather jacket. “It’s fine here,” you said, smiling. “We’ll just have to make sure to come back in here after the movie.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, looking up at you. “Yeah, yeah,” he huffed.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, making him pause. His eyes grew wide and he leaned against your lips, the anxiety he felt just moments ago slowly melting away. It didn’t matter that he was nervous about you being there—you’d take it as it was. He smiled as you pulled back, watching as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you said.

“For what?”

His head tilted curiously as he awaited your answer.

“For being you.”

Eddie paused, his eyes frozen on yours before he sprung forward, hands on your arms, causing you both to fall back on his bed—the pillow fort falling in several places, but still standing for the most part.

You let out a surprised gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes. “What was that—“

Eddie cut you off with a swift kiss to the lips, his nose dangerously close to touching yours.

“Thank you,” he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Now let’s go watch that movie before I mess any more of this shit up.”

#reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #reader #imagine #eddie munson #eddie x reader #fanfic #one shot #request #stranger things #st x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #gn!reader #st eddie munson #st imagine #stranger things imagine

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dre6ming · 2 years

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Holding on for dear life

“I stayed there” series- part VII

Masterlist

𓆩Part VI 𓆪 𓆩 Part VIII 𓆪

To be added to the tag list click here

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, some cursing, suggestive language… hope that’s all

Plot: Austin takes you out on perfect date and it feels like the two of are finally on the same page, ready to listen to each other.

Word count: ~5000

I get home, finding Betty asleep on the couch. Slowly I shake her awake. She stirs a bit and protests, but eventually she rubs the sleep from her eyes and sits up, yawning. "Hi there sleepy" I say giggling and going to start the coffee machine. "Ah hello!" Betty waves at me. She comes to the kitchen aisle and sits on one of the bar stools, that got delivered some time yesterday, before Austin called. "So lover boy, called you drunk and you go to the rescue?" She asks. I place a cup of coffee in front of her and she takes it, saying 'thank you'. I sigh and sip my coffee. Even though last night was the best sleep I've had in a while, I still feel like I haven't completely woken up yet.

"What was I supposed to do? Hm?" Betty shrugs her shoulders, sipping her coffee. "Just make sure you move at your on pace!" She takes my hand and massages my wrist. I close my eyes, taking my coffee cup in hand and moving to sit on the couch. "We almost had sex." I say. Betty chokes on her coffee and she comes running to jump on the couch next to me, almost resulting in my coffee spilling. I place the cup on the table, just to avoid any accidents, as she grabs my shoulders, gently shaking me. I can't really read her face, but I know she's about to tell me exactly what she thinks. "What was that you just said?"

I blink a couple of times, trying to figure out if she really didn't hear or if she just wants to make sure she heard correct. "We almost had sex." I mumbled under my breath. My cheeks feel hot and I can imagine I look like a tomato. "Ok. Why almost? Who stopped?" I'm confused why does that matter? How is that gonna help me clear my head? Untying my hair and letting it fall on my shoulders, I nervously scratch my scalp. "He did. Why?" She looks like she's really analyzing the situation. I sweat with anxiety, what is she going to say? Is she going to be disappointed in me? Oh fuck I'm such a slob. "Good for him, he gets to keep his dick. For now!" She says with a devilish grin. I giggle a bit, knowingly full well that she might not be joking. "When did it happen? Was he drunk?" I shake my head. "It happened this morning, after he cooked us breakfast."

Betty puts some hair behind my ear and gives me a good look over. "You know, he really sounds nice, but honey it's easy to get swept away. I like that he sounds like his brain has some functioning neurons as well, but you need to make him work for you. The things he said to you when he was angry, they come for a colder, darker side of him, maybe he doesn't even know that side of himself, but it's there." I listen to her talk, she's right. Austin is nice and he is smart and sweet and loving, but he also knows how to be cruel. "But (y/n), no one is without a dark side, some people are just really good at hiding it. The fact that you've seen his could be a deal breaker, but it could also not be. You need to talk about that with him." Nodding I make a note to bring it up to him. We've been through too much to bullshit anymore. "Ok I'll go change and do some laundry." I say getting up and moving towards my bedroom.

"I'll make lunch and then you can tell me, how shopping with your mom went." I hear her say from the living room. I groan and fall on the bed, burying my face in the mattress. I stay like that until my lungs burn with the oxygen deprivation. Changing into a pair of pajamas, I start folding the laundry that I've been putting off for days now. Soon the smell of grilled chicken makes my stomach roar with hunger. Guess being in such a tumultuous situation with your ex increases your appetite. "Hey there master chef!" I joke sitting down at the table. "It looks amazing!" I say, as Betty sits down in front of me. "Thank you, I made some for Boots as well, no seasoning though, completely cat safe, I googled it."

Her smile is so bright, there's no stopping the one the appears on my face. "You love that cat too much." She scoffs and digs into her food. "So I spoke with the upstairs tenant, he's going to have the paperwork done by Monday, which gives me a week before we start work. It's perfect." I'm happy to hear that she'll be able to get the place so soon, but I kinda like her living with me, it's how it's been for years. "Hey, none of that, I'm only moving upstairs!" She says gesturing with her form at me, causing the piece of meat that she had stabbed with it, to fall. Boots is quick to come to the rescue and eats it in no time. "Better than a vacuum cleaner." I joke and we both laugh.

Over lunch I tell her all about my mom and how she told me to get rid of my cat. Betty of course comes to my defense and gives me another encouraging speech. Then we do the dishes together and she tells me that Emma, her girlfriend, arrives tomorrow and asks me to pick her up, so she can arrange the engagement. We make some more plans about tomorrow and then I go back to my room, to lay down a bit. My phone pings and I pick it up to read the text message.

"I'll pick you up at 6, dress casual, sneakers are recommended."

I giggle at Austin's text and quickly reply.

"Very well mister, I'll make sure to only wear sneakers ;)"

After I hit send, I break into a fit of laughter, than get up to rummage through my closet. I pick a loose pair of jeans and a tank top with a blue thin cardigan. Looking at the clock I see it's already 5pm, so I better get ready. Quickly getting dressed and braiding my hair in Dutch braids, I apply some orange flavored lip balm and a few sprays of perfume. Sitting down on the bed and dangling my feet over the edge, I pick up the phone. Austin texted me back a while ago, but I never answered.

"Don't make promises you can't keep princess."

The text reads and my heart rate picks up, but before I can type a reply, the knock on the door, makes me drop my phone. I pick the phone up from the floor, grab my bag and rush to the hallway. Betty opened the door and she's leaning on the door frame blocking Austin from coming in. I chuckle at image, of 5.4 feet tall Betty, blocking Austin and somehow looking taller than him. Austin's eyes land on me and brighten up. He offers me a huge smile. Betty turns around and walking up to my she grabs my arm to bring me close and whisper in my ear. "Enjoy your night" she slips something into my back pocket, giving my ass a squeeze. I yelp and she goes to the bedroom laughing at me. Shaking my head, I put my sneakers on and come up to Austin. "Hi!" He smiles down at me. Than he pulls from behind him, a huge bouquet of sunflowers. "Hi there!" I gasp and take the bouquet from him. Standing on my tiptoes I kiss his cheek. "My favorite, thank you!" As I go to put the flowers in some water, I see one of his hands go up to his face and touch the skin, my lips kissed.

"Ready?" He asks moving out of the way so I can walk out. I take in his image, his dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white long sleeve top, he's handsome, with his laidback look and his ravished hair. "Yes!" I'm confident in my answer, I'm feeling more than confident. Somehow I feel alive? I don't know, it's like nothing has really brought me this type of energy in years. We get into his car and when I sit down, I remember about Betty, slipping something in my back pocket. I wiggle a bit in my seat and grab whatever she put in there. Austin notices me moving around and watches me as I hold up the condom, Betty gave me without me knowing.

I freeze and my face must be so red and embarrassed, that it causes Austin to laugh, clutching his stomach. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he calms down. Looking into his eyes I can see the pure joy and amusement, so I also laugh at the situation. "I don't know if that should scare me or encourage me." Confusion takes over me. "Scared?" He lets out a couple more giggles before answering. "She said that if I slept with you before you're 100% ready, she'll cut off my dick." It's my turn to break into hysterical laughter. "Oh I'd be scared, sucks to be you." I say.

He leans forward over the car console. "I want you to know, she's right though. I won't go there with you unless you're 100% sure it's what you want." He's eyes look into mine. I swallow and nod. One of his hands cups the side of my face. Austin touches our lips and we kiss. He's so warm and gentle, my stomach does backflips in my belly. He pulls away, brushing a hand through his hair and licking his lips. Fuck his sexy lip licking. “Orange. My favorite!" I blush. I still use the same lip balm as all those years ago and he always loved the taste of it. Opening my bag, I put the condom in, for safe keeping you know. And pull out my lip balm reapplying. He chuckles and starts the car, driving away.

"So where are we going?" I ask exited, but he shakes his head. "I'm not telling you, in fact, thanks for reminding me." He says, reaching over and opening the glove compartment to get out a sleep mask. "Put this on" I lift a brow at him, he can't be serious. "I'm serious!" He says demanding. I take it from him and put it over my eyes. "Ok Christian Grey!" I say laughing. "You know all these comments make it really hard for me to keep my cool." I giggle at his honest answer. "Hm than I guess in this instance I'm Christian Grey." I can't see him, but I hear the sigh leaving him. "Did you really watch those movies?" He asks and I shake my head, making him laugh.

"I read the books!" I say and he chokes on his laugh. "Of course you did." He says and I can hear the smile in his voice. For the rest of the ride he turns the radio in and sings along to whatever song is playing. I've always loved his voice and I used to have to beg him to sing for me, he was always too shy, but I guess playing Elvis changed that a bit. He's still shy about it, he's singing only a whisper, blending in with the radio, but I can still hear it. I'm lost in the moment of having him sing for me, that I don't even notice when the car stops, until he turns off the car. "Ok, keep the blindfold on, I'll come on your side to get you."

I listen for him getting out of the car, closing his door and walking around to my side. Austin opens my doors, bends over me to unbuckle my seatbelt and then helps me up. I can smell the salty water as soon as I'm out of the car, but we're not at the beach. His hands come up to hold my face. He brings me close and bending down, kisses me. Our lips dance over each other's, in a slow rhythm. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling at it, making him groan against my lips. That give me the leverage to explore his mouth with my tongue. Austin only lets me the the lead for a second and soon my back rests against his car. His hands lift the blindfold and he pulls away.

I open my eyes adjusting to the light again. We stay like this, me with my back against his car and hands in his hair and him towering over me, hands on either side of me against the car hood. "God you're evil." He says, placing a kiss at the base of my neck. Austin moves away so that I can take in the place. We are at the docks boats everywhere, but one in particular catches my eye. It's smaller and lit up, slow music coming from it. "Come on." He takes my hand and we walk up to the boat, a man dressed very fancy coming up. "Sir, good night and welcome !" He says, gesturing for us to get on.

I turn to Austin and look up at him. "You're taking me on a boat?" I say, but I must've not been very good at making a point I'm excited, because he asks me "Do you like it?" I nod my head and jump up to wrap my arms around his neck. "Yes I do, I love it in fact." I say peppering kisses on the side of his neck. He chuckles, pulling me off so that we can get on. He helps me up and then the nice man from earlier, walks us to the back of the boat. There a table is set up with two plates on it and a bottle of wine, next to the table in a corner is a nook, where pillows and blankets have been laid out. I smile at Austin. "Thank you!" I say and go to sit down.

After the food is served and we're left alone to enjoy the meal, we fall in a comfortable silence. Austin is the one to break it first. "You really like it?" I eat some of the food and I immediately recognize it as his famous beef casserole. "Mhmm you cooked for me?" I ask, his smile grows and he nods, blushing. "Yeah" he scratches the back of his head, cooking as always been his love language. "It's delicious." I say eating some more. He lets out a relieved laugh and starts eating as well.

"So when do you start the residency?" He ask drinking some water form his wine glass, he sticks to water since he's driving. "Um not this Monday, the one after. It's scary, I've been in a hospital before, but as a student you don't have even half of the responsibility of a resident ." He listens carefully. "And how long are you going to be a resident for?" He asks seeming genuinely interested. "Since I chose surgery, it's 7 years and then during my fellowship I'm basically a full doctor."

"That a long time." He says and I nod. Yeah I guess it is a long time, but despite it, I love it. "Yeah, it is, but I love it." Austin takes my hand and rubs the skin there, somehow this simple touch raises goosebumps all over. "You've got this, if anyone can do it, that's you!" He says reassuringly, lifting my hand off of the table and kissing it. "Thank you!" I say. "I never doubted you, I was just..." he paused a minute and I go still. "I thought you were trying to tell me that you didn't think I could get the role. I took out my insecurities on you. I should've never done that, but instead of learning my lesson, I did it again when we met on the beach" I move my hand, that's been resting in his, to caress his face. He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. "Why?" I ask, and the pained expression on his face almost makes me regret asking, but I need to know.

My heart is throwing a goddamn rock concert in my chest and I can feel it's vibrations in all of my bones. "Because I saw you and I felt like only a day had passed since I saw you. I wanted to run up to you, kiss you, tell you I'm sorry. But then you lifted your eyes up from the book, you were reading 'The hunger games' again" we both share a laugh at the fact that yes I was rereading that book. "The look in your eyes brought me back to reality, it told me that three years had passed, not just one day and it told me that you still hurt. I spoke before I knew what I was saying. Asking you to coffee was a long shot." I smile at him, it was far more than a long shot, but it's nice to see that he's somehow aware of everything. "After we bumped into each other the next day, I knew I wasn't happy. I wasn't happy with who I had become." I get up from the table and he looks at me scared that I might walk away. Instead I go to sit on his lap, hugging him and resting my chin on top of his head.

Austin puts his head on my chest and lets out a chuckle. "Your heart is doing laps in there, baby!" The pet name only quickens my heart, butterflies coming alive in my belly. "I was hurting. I don't think I ever stopped, I tried, but nothing worked. I won't admit it to myself, but I came back to LA in hopes of seeing you." He lifts his head up and looks at me. "You found me!" He says. I drop my head and kiss him. Every time I kiss him feels different. Good different.

When we pull away, he picks me up and I let out a squeal. "Austin!" I say laughing. He sits down on the pillows laid in the nook, with me still on his lap. His hand runs up and down my back, while the other comes to lay on top of my heart. "I love this, your heart beating for me!" He says and taking his hand away he kisses the spot on top of my heart. He lingers there for a minute and I feel like I might die form how fast my heart goes.

Looking up at me, he's smirking, he knows exactly what he's doing. Smart bastard. He moves me to sit beside him and the waiter comes up with to plates. Bring them over to us he speaks. "We're ready for takeoff, we'll be sailing around till the night fall, we'll meet the shore again at midnight." Austin nods and says a quick 'thank you'. Looking at the plate in my hand I gasp. "You like it?" He asks, joy evident in his voice. "How could I not, I haven't had your famous grilled white peaches with amaretto in forever, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to romance me Butler." I laugh taking a bite of the dessert and he pouts like a little kid. "That's exactly what I'm doing, but I must not be doing a good job, since you haven't figured it out yet." Shaking his head in disbelief he eats some o the dessert as well. I laugh at him, snorting, which causes him to laugh at me.

I blush like crazy and try to hide my face looking away, but using a finger he turns my head around. "Don't you dare hide those beautiful eyes from me, baby!" He says and I swallow hard. I hold his gaze until I feel us moving and notice the boat moving away from the shore. "Do you want to sail it?" He ask and I look at him shocked. "Me?" He nods his head, putting the plates aside, he gets up and brings me with him.

We walk inside and he takes me into the command room. "Hello sir, you think my friend here could try and sail for a minute?" He asks. The captain moves to the side and motions for me to come closer. I try to act like I didn't just get friend zoned and hurt by it. "Come on, I'll help you." Austin said. Putting his hands over mine he helps me sail. "How do you know how to do this?" I ask. "I took my boating license while I was in Australia filming." I smile and giggle, his head is resting on my shoulder and he speaks directly into my ear. "Hm looks like you are in fact a Christian Grey, so you also have a red room of pleasure at home, that I don't know of?" I ask teasingly, but quiet enough so that only he can hear me. "Oh wouldn't you like to know." He says kissing my neck.

The breath gets caught in my chest and I close my eyes, leaning into him. "Eyes at sea, captain!" He says and I quickly open my eyes, trying to compose myself. "Ok that's enough sailing, let's go back out there." He says patting my hip with one hand. "Thank you sir!" He says to the captain again and he leads me back out.

Sitting down we finish the dessert in silence. I can't stop thinking how the fact that he called me 'friend', ached in my chest. He seems to notice something's on my mind and taking the plate from my hand, he stacks it with his, putting them away to be taken away. "What's wrong?" He asks taking my hands in his, bringing them up to his lips, kissing every knuckle. "Nothing!" I shake my head and hope he leaves it at that. Embarrassed with the reason of my uneasiness. "Don't lie, please!" He begs, eyes pleading.

I sigh and move my eyes down. "I guess you calling me a friend rubbed me in a wrong way" I say trying to hide the tremble in my voice by clearing my throat. "I didn't know what else to call you" he responds and I only nod. It makes sense, because I wouldn't know what to call us either. He moves me on top of him, so I'm straddling his hips. Looking up at me, he bites his bottom lip, and I have to do the same to fight the moan threatening ti escape me. "What do you want me to call you, love?" He ask his hands resting on my hips. "I don't know."

"I don't want you to be my friend" he says. I don't know how to feel, but before I get to caught up in my head, he speaks again. "I want you to be more, but I can't rush you." Our foreheads collide and we breathe in sink with our eyes closed. My hands squeeze his shoulders and he lifts his chin up so I can kiss him. It soon turns into a hungry kiss, a battle of tongues, lips and teeth. We break apart to breath. His hand comes up to my face, his thumb walking over my bottom lip. "I want you to be more too" I say breathless and he lets out a pained chuckle. "I'm really trying to go slow here, (Y/n), but everything about you, it drives me crazy, I can't, I'm trying." Austin says breathing hard.

The grip he has on my hip, tightness and I shiver. Involuntarily my hips grind on his. Austin let's out a hiss and his other hand flies from my face to my hips, keeping me still. "God, I wish I didn't have to stop you." He says. "What if I don't want stop?" I whisper in his ear. I know it must be the wine, combined with the thrill of it all, but I want him. "That would be just fine, but I know you don't really want to go further. Give me at least a week, I told you, I want to make love to you, not just fuck you." He says hugging me close to his chest. "I'm sorry. I've just never felt like this, I don't know what's wrong with me." He chuckles stroking my head as I nuzzle my face in his neck. "There's nothing wrong with you, these are normal human needs and I promise to you, that if you really feel like I'm the one to be trusted with filling those needs, I'll do it the best I know how."

I brush my nose against the skin of his neck. "You're freezing baby!" He says reaching after a blanket to drape over us. "I don't feel cold, must be the wine!" I mumble, gluing my lips to his hot skin and it's not that a realize, I am in fact cold. The contrast between our temperature makes me nuzzle into him even further. His arm tighten around me and I've never felt this safe and warm, and loved. "Will you be my boyfriend?" I ask yawning, I guess I'm also tired, not just cold. I can feel him stop breathing and from where my head lays against his shoulder, I can hear his heart pick up. It makes me smile, knowing I’m not the only one with a weak heart. “You sure?” His voice is cautious and laced with a mixture of fear and hope.

“Dead serious, I think I’ve kept you on your toes for long enough” I say giggling. He says silent and in my sleepy state I’m fighting anxiety. What if I said it too soon, what if I just messed up?. “I’d love nothing more than to be your boyfriend, but you have to promise me something.” Austin says. Lifting my head up, I catch his eyes in mine. Even in the dark they are so beautiful and they dare to say the things he doesn’t. It’s always been like that, no matter how much he controls all his body when it comes to emotions, his eyes are never on his side. As they burn into my soul, my heart actually slows down. His hands come up to my face, framing it in his big palms. “If I ever hurt you again, you’ll let Betty cut off my dick.” His fighting a smile and I can’t help but laugh. “It’s a deal Butler!”

I hook my arms around his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. We’ve been kissing so much, I wonder how my lips still have feeling in them. I lay my head back on his shoulder and we stay like that. Quiet, calm, happy. Looking at the beautiful starry sky, his lips touch the shell of my ear and he starts singing softly. I recognize the song in a beat, he’s singing ’unchained melody’ for me. I can feel the warmth growing inside me, this is perfect, this moment right here is perfect.

Soon my heavy leads can no longer fight the sleep creeping up on me. I fall asleep in his arms, with him still singing to me, only now he’s moved on to singing ‘A thousand years’ my favorite love song.

When I wake up is still dark and he’s kissing my face awake. “There she is!” Austin smile at me and I rub the sleep from my eyes. “We’re almost at shore, I thought I should wake you up, though I would’ve happily carried you” I shake my head in disapproval, I don’t want him to carry me. Austin chuckles. “Yeah I thought so.” I laugh at the fact that he knows me so well.

Soon we are back at shore and we get up. Saying our thanks to the crew, Austin helps me off the boat. I the car he turns the heat all the way up. Thankful I melt into the leather seat of his car, making myself comfortable. “Would it be crazy if I wanted to see you again tomorrow?” He asks, driving away and resting his right hand on my thigh. “It wouldn’t be, but I’m busy. I have to wake up at 5am to go pick Emma, Betty’s girlfriend, from the airport. Then I have to spend the whole day with her, while Betty gets everything in place for the engagement. But the day after tomorrow I’m free” I explain.

We reach a red light and he turns his head to look at me. “It’s a date” he says smiling and I blush in the dark. “It’s a date” I agree.

When we get to my place, he insists to walk me up the stairs to my door. I unlock the door and step inside, leaving him on the other side. He gives me a quick peck on the lips and a tight hug, then with one last smile he says ‘good night’ and leaves.

Betty is asleep on the couch since it’s already 1am and I decide to take a quick shower and wash my hair, to have it sit nice tomorrow. I fall asleep as soon as my head touches the pillows and the dreams have me drunk on happiness. I can’t wait to see him again.

Tags: @kittenlittle24 @amorx @cryingabtab @lexicox044 @lrissa @feral4austinbutler @sageskywalker @jesssssicaa @rainydayz101 @flwersgarden @bobthefishiesworld @captured-memory @homebodybirkin2003 @galaxygirl453 @butlerslut @chrisevansgirl34 @myradiaz @pennyroyalcreep @macey234 @im-lame-irl @lordandmistress @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @poppet05 @gabbywontlose @4shbug @0-thegoodwitch-0 @hauntedarchivesx

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talks-with-the-void · 6 months

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uuurrrrgh I hate this feeling of "what if I am faking being autistic??? I for sure am nOt AUtiSTiC EnoUgH"

So. In an attempt to cope with this, I'm gonna write shit down

reasons why I think I am "not autistic enough":

I can use irony and sarcasm and it's a 50/50 chance if I understand it when other people use it

I am very low to no support needs, because I am extremely skilled at masking and "just pushing through struggles"

I don't have violent and/or screaming meltdowns

now: reasons why I am FUCKING OBVIOUSLY autistic and not secretly faking:

I mask all the damn time. if I didn't mask, I'd constantly stim, make weird noises, etc in public

There is exactly one person I feel comfortable being myself around, which is my boyfriend who is probably autistic too. I am like 98% sure he is. we communicate through meowing mote often than I'd like to admit lmao

I stim. all. the. time. In public I try to be subtle but it's still there. I do the feet rubbing against each other, vocal stims, biting my lips, pulling my hair (gently, not actually pulling it out), cracking knuckles, rubbing fingers against each other, etc etc etc

special interests. I mean they get blurry with hyperfixations sometimes, but my obsession with Warrior Cats, The Big Bang Theory, horses and Pokémon is on a different level. I always was like this, after I watched LotR for the first time, it became my whole personality for five fucking years. I watched the movies over 20 times each and the Hobbit around 10-15 times. same with BBC Sherlock and Supernatural (the later is still ongoing, the others have faded over time).

I love love LOVE repeating things. it's most noticable with what I watch, I'm currently on my 30th or something run of TBBT. same with routine, although that's less noticable, cause I don't have a set daily routine - but in my head, I always plan like a week ahead and I fucking hate sudden changes in my plans. and by "sudden" I mean four days or less of mental preperation time.

ugh eye contact. I just. can't. social situations in general, I feel so fucking uncomfortable unless it's with people I 100% trust (or if my boyfriend is with me, then I feel safe too)

I could eat the same 10 foods allllll the time. I do like trying new things because cooking is fun but it needs to be under my control and I need to plan it out in my head. and I simply won't ever get tired of chicken nuggets, pasta and pizza.

sensory issues UGH- light too bright, sounds too loud, texture to ewww - you name it. high-pitched beeping noises make me go nuts, they fucking hurt my brain, they're the worst but there are other bad ones.

I have ADHD and had severe depression and anxiety in my teenage years and also was bullied, which isn't criteria but indicators, so...

I have pretty damn high scores on any autism test I take. every single one, even when I downplay my symptoms.

this is all I can think of for now, I might add on in the future

#actually autistic

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jaymzeecat · 7 months

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Destination: Adventure!

I'm not what you'd consider the adventurous type or anything of a jet setter... I hadn't even previously flown in like a decade but if I wanted to see the Funny Bunny I was gonna have to step out of my comfort zone and embark on a journey from Portland to Chicago.

Last time I flew I had a pretty bad panic attack (which has largely prevented me from wanting to step foot on a plane again...) so I tried to be as proactive as possible for this trip. I received much coaching and advice from my therapist as well as some Xanax candies from my doctor. I booked First Class seats to minimize any sort of claustrophobia that might come up and I brought adequate amounts of entertainment (music, video games, kindle). Luckily the flight is only about 4 hours long.

One of the nice things about Alaska Airlines is that you can preorder a vegan meal. I got a JustEgg frittata which was pretty good. I guess airline food has made a lot of improvements over the years. I assumed though that the croissant was not vegan (since everyone got one) and I skipped it.

First Class was an interesting experience as I've never flown anything but Coach. It was nice having a larger seat and leg room and I do think it helped with my anxiety. I felt pretty good on the first flight, though I do wish I had the ability to lie down. I guess that's asking too much, haha. The flight went by pretty quickly and without incident. I was amazed at how huge Lake Michigan is when we were flying over it.

I booked a room for one night at the Westin on Michigan Avenue which was fine. Nothing too crazy. We had dinner that night at "Can't Believe It's Not Meat" which despite having vegan signage was not fully vegan which was weird... but whatever, haha.

I had something called a "Pizza Poof" which the Funny Bunny assures me is pronounced "puff" despite the spelling which was something like a soft Hot Pocket. It was pretty good though I forgot at almost every meal to take any pictures. He got a chicken dish that was supposed to be like a vegan version of Raising Cane's(?) or some shit, which I'm not familiar with either way so I can't say how it compared. But it was decent.

We took a walk down Lake Shore Drive toward the pier.

I really wanted to ride that ferris wheel.

Navy Pier was overall pretty cool. It satisfied my love of neon lights, haha.

We did eventually ride the ferris wheel which turned out to not be as exciting as we hoped. It stopped for long periods of time for some reason as we were just sat there... I was able to stand in the car and get a good look at the city though. The Funny Bunny forgot that he's like a foot taller than me and tried to do the same and banged his head... he's okay though. He suffered no permanent brain injuries on my watch!

The first night in Chicago was really nice. I'll post about the trip some more when I've got the energy to do so (I'm in the middle of a cold or some shit so I'm mostly just taking things easy since I got back home). But I hope you enjoy these posts about my big adventure so far!

#chicago

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jacksdinonuggets · 24 days

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I can't think of a unique title for this. Another Blake fic!

tw: ed, sh, depression.

Blake curled up under his blankets and whimpered. It had been two days since he left his room. Two days since his damn meds ran out. Stuck in his room, he was bedrotting. Since he hadn’t had his depression and anxiety medication, depressed and anxious was basically his entire mood. He didn’t want to go to Charlie again. He was always venting and impure regressing and he felt like it was bothering her too much. Why couldn’t he just have the normal, happy regression that everyone else has?

Whimpering again as his brain got to him, he curled up further. His stomach ached but he refused to eat, having no motivation to do so. He heard his door creak open.

“Hey Blake,” Charlie said with a soft voice. He hid under the covers, not wanting her to see his pathetic face.

“You missed dinner again…” She was carrying a plate with mac & cheese and chicken nuggets on it. Seeing the piles of untouched food on his nightstand, she set the new plate down and picked up the other ones, throwing them in the trash. They had to resort to plate pals (Animal style paper plates) so she could easily just throw them away.

“Come on, sit up, I want to see you eat,” She sat at the end of his bed. Even though she had a lot of little’s to take care of, she still worried about Blake. He clearly wasn’t doing well.

Blake hesitantly sat up. His hair was messy, face pale and white, and deep bags under his eyes. He took the plate from his nightstand and sat it in his lap. He just stared at it.

“Blake, please, eat at least half. I don’t want to take you to the sloth ring again due to malnutrition,” Charlie urged, “I don’t like forcing you to eat, but at this point, it’s for your own good,”

“Fine…” Blake mumbled. He was such a fucking burden, making her take him to the sloth ring a couple of days ago. If he wasn’t even alive, she wouldn’t have to worry about him. He didn’t even understand why she acted like she was worried about him. People hate when others vent to them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was just annoyed.

Charlie held his trash can as he ate his food, in case any came up. Usually, since he was so used to purging, if he ate, there was a high possibility of him puking. Luckily, nothing did, although he was close.

“Good boy,” She ruffled his hair when he managed to finish about ⅔ of the plate, “You did so well,”

“You doing okay? I know your meds ran out… I’m getting them refilled by tomorrow,”

“M fine…” He lied.

Charlie sighed, seeing right through his lie. She got up and walked out of the room. Blake concluded that she finally had enough of him. Served him right. He was probably just an attention seeking brat. It was most likely his fault that everyone loved the other littles better.

His door opened again. He peeked out from under his covers and saw the blonde fallen angel.

“Hey, Blake. Heard you didn’t feel like talking to Mama,” he sat next to him. Charlie was standing in the doorway.

“I said I was fine,” He grumbled.

“We both know that’s not true, sweetie,” Charlie piped up.

“I don’t know why you guys even care. I’m such an annoyance to you guys. All i even do is complain about feeling bad and unhappy. No one likes a venter,” He went back under the covers.

“Blake, it’s okay to have impure regressions, you do realize that?” Hez emphasized.

After getting no response, Hez sighed. He was about to give up when he heard soft sobbing. He lifted the covers and saw Blake, crying and gripping his bed sheets.

“Oh, Blake, It’s okay, come here,” Hez lifted him up and put him in his lap. The boy kind of stunk. He hadn’t showered for about 3 days.

Blake cried into Hez’s shoulder, letting all of his big emotions and feelings out. Hez rubbed his back and shushed him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Charlie wanted to step in, but didn’t want to interrupt their sweet moment.

Sensing that the boy was starting to regress, he picked him up off the bed and walked towards his bathroom. He needed a bath and he was going to give him one.

“Who do you want to bathe you, baby? Me or Char-Char?” He asked the boy. Blake pointed to Charlie. She had changed him a few times before so he was more comfortable with her than Hez.

You could tell the boy’s headspace had dropped. He was more semi-verbal and had a lisp. As Charlie cleaned Blake, Hez fixed him up a bottle of warm fat free chocolate milk (The only drink he will consume while small), and took out all of his favorite bedtime stories.

Blake came out of the bathroom in his onesie and holding Charlie’s hand. She led him to the bed and tucked him in. Hez handed him the bottle of milk and his favorite stuffed animal before giving Charlie the books. He decided to let them bond and left the room.

Blake drank his warm fat free chocolate milk as Charlie read his favorite books. His insomnia finally stopped and he drifted off to sleep while cuddling his caregiver.

#age regression #sfw agere #hazbin hotel agere #agere writing #agere fanfic #sfw littlespace #safe agere #padded agere #agere #baby agere #babyr #sfw babyre

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pikechris · 1 year

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people are sometimes surprised when I say that I actually like my job in a service station deli. well first of all this is ireland, 98% of customer interactions are polite and pleasant and the worst thing that can happen to me personally is when we get a bus full of teenagers who want chicken fillet rolls. or even worse, two in one day. happened this tuesday. but also i've found that it's actually perfect for my autism/adhd brain because:

I do the same things every day. there are tasks that have to be done every day and tasks that have to be done every week on a specific day. perfect. it's the thing others complain about the most, but me? just how I prefer it

constantly moving and doing something is what keeps me stimulated and staves off boredom aka the worst feeling ever. it gets pretty busy sometimes, which, ideal! I haven't had to touch a stim toy for MONTHS because I put all that excess energy to violently scrubbing dishes

I'm honestly the perfect employee because when I happen to have nothing to do I look for things to clean and tidy and shit and if that doesn't help I ask the manager for extra tasks to keep those hands occupied lol

re: previous point. I'm Fast so I always do everything that needs to be done, too. mostly because my brain takes the rules seriously and when the paperwork says I have to do something. well then I'll bloody well do it won't I. it says it right there. they like me because they know I'm reliable unlike the students who do weekends and even exceed expectations sometimes hah

clear instructions, love em. here I always know what to do and how to do it

the customer interactions follow a similar pattern and are almost always the same so I know what to say and ask and it's not stressful

sometimes people ask me where to find things and such and I Iove a) knowing things and being somebody who knows them and b) telling people about something I know, so it doesn't bother me

there's a whole bunch of safety compliance paperwork tasks like taking temperatures of food every hour that everyone finds annoying. but I love numbers and measuring things and statistics!! it's like ooh I wonder what's the temperature of this soup?? and then I stick a probe in there and find out and write it down! neat. tracking how quickly things cool down in the hot counter is entertaining

there's always 50 things to do at once. I will start 10 at a time. it works out fine. I can check the task list to see if I did it and tick it off. adhd kept in check ✓

others repeat the customers' orders to them to make sure they're getting it right so when I do it because echolalia & needing it to process the information, it goes unnoticed!!

I hate silence so the constant noise of the ovens and the radio and such are a good background noise. plus no one minds when I sing along to the radio as a stim because everyone does it, which is also why I feel safe enough to do so in the first place

no seriously doing stuff gives me energy, so I'm not tired after an 8.5 hour shift (this is even an observation others have made) and still can do the shopping, cook dinner, cook lunch for next day and be busy until midnight. something I couldn't do when studying, which was an energy drainer. huh

(I haven't had this much energy and motivation to do things since I was a CHILD. I'm not joking. I also haven't had a shutdown or anxiety attack or even a bad day in ages since I moved and started working. lying in bed depressed and feeling like I can't breathe? don't know her. also I can actually fall asleep immediately. my brain just shuts down. a feeling I haven't known for years. what is this magic)

I get to put things in the oven and make pizzas and bread and scones from scratch and generally do things I like and am good at and get paid for it! fuck yeah baking!!

I get to clean and put things in order and organise stock and the cold room and freezers and implement Systems and make things Full and GET PAID FOR IT

regular shifts 10-18, perfect, I don't have to get up too early either. allows for going to sleep at midnight and still getting the sweet eight hours

everybody is kind of doing their own thing most of the time and we're all busy so I'm not required to talk to my coworkers if I don't want to. but I can if I do. we all get along well. also good

sometimes I have an issue remembering how many fillings I put in that person's wrap if I wasn't paying that much attention but it's fine, if I charge them 40c less no one will know. there is no failing and no points deducted for a wrong answer. it's chill, no anxiety induced

I'm mostly on my own from 11:30ish until the end, the deli is my kingdom, I make the decisions, no one is in the way, I like it. I like it less when it's busy but I'm capable of handling it either way so eh *shrug*

i have a very good memory (when I do pay attention) so when there are regulars who order the same one or two things I remember them fast and now it's like. white wrap, peppers and plain chicken? and they're like. yeah!! :) I get to make someone happy with something so simple :)

sometimes people eat truly bizarre sandwiches and stuff and I get to internally laugh and/or wonder what the fuck is that. sometimes we actually do laugh about it after. it's fun

I'm also apparently the best new person they've ever had in this shop because I learn extremely fast so that's nice to hear lmao

i easily follow safety regulations such as wearing gloves at all times because dirty dishes and wet bits of food in the sink and raw meat and greasy utensils and sticky bread dough and the inside of the oven mitts are yucky to touch so that's another win-win for them and me

if not the company owner then at least the shop and deli managers are amazing. they will tell you to take any wastage you want without paying for it (because that is a stupid rule that exists that everyone thinks is nonsense and ignores. what's the difference if an out of date bag of crisps goes in the bin or is eaten?) just don't tell the boss, and will go out for drinks with you, and act like normal human beings who are a delight to work with

as a christmas bonus we all got a €50 one4all gift card which everyone thought was sort of shite and useless but are you kidding me? that means a free coffee machine. I got a free coffee machine with it. and a big discount on noise-cancelling wireless earbuds that are actually good and have a long battery life. amazing I'm telling you

yes we get the minimum wage but as someone who never worked or had much money I can live so well off of it? i can comfortably pay for rent and electricity and two grocery shoppings a week that aren't cheap, put a bunch aside, buy some treats online when I feel like it, go places every other week, and still have enough left. I flew to london in december just because. spent £130 on a concert ticket to the o2. I visit places that are a bit further away and stay a night or two once a month. I feel like I eat like a king when I have stuff like homemade bread with avocado spread, homemade cake, fresh strawberries and stuff for breakfast all the time. and that's just for cleaning and making sandwiches?? it sometimes feels unreal to me that I do it for money at all. it's like. housework. things I do anyway all the time at home. I have no reason to complain lol

anyway this is just how I personally feel :') but yeah I like working? who'd have thought. not me. I also feel like I'm the only one there who does. or anywhere really. because I'm so used to retail and service jobs being connected with annoyance and hate and doing them out of necessity etc etc... so I wanted to share that little bit of positive experience I guess. and needed to rant about it somewhere.

is it weird that working 42 hours a week in a shop improved my mental health? probably. but I also get it and can't believe I didn't figure it out earlier because. it's the moving lads. I'm in a constant state of busy. once I stop doing things and start lying in bed all day it goes downhill and the energy and motivation don't come back. but now? that's impossible. even on weekends. I can't put off the ironing because I need the uniform. I have to cook because I can't live on cheese toasties and the veg in the fridge is gonna go off if I don't use it. I have to travel because there's nothing to do in town except lying in bed all day. and once I make a Plan, not even the rain or having to get up at 6:30 to catch the morning bus stops me from following it. and I don't mean that in a stressful grind culture way, I mean it in a helpful actually-it's-pretty-slow-and-quiet way! I found a way of hacking the executive dysfunction completely by accident here and. it's a job

#personal #sofi.txt #ireland #neurodiversity #autism #adhd #audhd #note: I don't mind noises but i do have issues with auditory processing in loud places #so sometimes i do have to ask them to repeat the order because i heard shit #but it's fine #i copied the polite sentence patterns of my co-workers hah #it's fine it's fine it's me practising small talk and interacting with neurotypicals and '''fitting in'''#and about exceeding expectations just today i came into a bit of chaos bc my regular shift partner wasn't there #and what needs to be done every day is the tray up in the freezer where we prep rolls pastries fillets etc for the next day #someone has to be out front when that's done #and the managers were in the deli today totally ready to do other things as soon as i came in #and leave me to it #i said i'd do the tray up first #they were like. ok... you can #it's a trolley with 8 trays #i did it in 9 minutes #that's normal. that it takes me 10 or so minutes #but when i came back they were staring like. you aren't DONE are you?#i was like. yeah? i said i'd be quick #i love interactions like that lol. i can still surprise people by being good at my job #(one tray is for example 18 chicken fillets of 3 flavours that come in 3 bags which i have to pull them out of 2 at a time)#(or a selection of scones and pastries stored chaotically in bags on top of each other because there's no space)

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beesinspades · 11 months

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how do you find a job when

you have no proper experience

you have no diplomas

you have no training in anything

you don't have a driving license

you need your job to be part-time but they're harder to find

you need your job to involve as little contact with customers as possible

you need a job that doesn't require you to take/make phonecalls

you have rejection sensitivity that makes you want to cry and sends you in a spiral of anxiety at the slightest negative remark from both colleague and client, even if they're not being mean about it

you have undiagnosed adhd which makes you unable to take up any training/studies because you just can't get yourself to start something that you're not deeply interested in, and even then it can still be a struggle to focus on learning/studying because your brain just Doesn't Want To no matter how much you do

you are terrified of the plague but no one else gives a shit anymore and you're too chicken to stand up for yourself over wanting to mask amongst people who will either straight up not allow it or make you feel shitty/weird for it

honestly i feel like i could've figured something out with the program the unemployment office is putting me in, i really think it could help me, but then worldwide plague denial happened, so even that program is scary and stressful now :)

the dream would be an entirely remote part-time job but they're much less common in my country, and when there's one I'm not qualified and the amount of tasks to do makes me feel super overwhelmed

#bee rants #i'm so lucky that my apartment is ours so when my dad passes away it'll be mine #but i'll still have food and bills to pay and i'll have to pay for my sister's share of the apartment so i can't stay like this forever :')#except in april i haven't had any income since october and it's the worst....i need a job #the unemployment office sent me on that one program for people with mental and/or physical disabilities and i'm gonna be given an internshi #but it's unpaid and the plague problem remains and the therapist I'm assigned to was even like 'we'll work on that' and i'm just like #I don't want to work on that????#y'all are the ones who are delusional. i'm the reasonable one for wanting to keep wearing a mask here!#i also want to finally get a diagnosis but it costs money and I'm Scared and even people in medical settings look at me weird for masking #maybe i'm just lazy and a coward and trying to find excuses

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frogsandfries · 3 months

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Am I numbing?

I ask myself this question a lot.

When I use marijuana, what am I really trying to do?

For one, I don't know how to shut off my anxiety. It's not even anxiety in the way one thinks of anxiety. It's not that I stress out about things like losing my job or my apartment or other negative things that could happen to my life. When they say racing thoughts, they never specify that all of one's thoughts race--I have to run to Target this weekend, I'm hungry, I sure could go for some McDonald's chicken nuggets, I can't wait to get off work and watch that movie that I've been waiting to come out, oh man it's so windy outside, I wonder if it's going to be cold out this weekend, and on and on spin my thoughts.

It's nice to have some kind of ruler against which to train my mind. When I was off my brain drugs, I remember realizing my thoughts were racing (which I never would have been able to recognize without chemical assistance) and I used the methods I've been working on to get my mind to focus on sleeping instead of keeping me vaguely awake. I'd kind of started to master mindfulness and it was a relief, knowing that if I'd done it with chemical assistance, I could do it without.

I think I've spoken long and fondly about the effects of marijuana that aren't necessarily unique to me--cotton mouth, encouraging me to hydrate when I might just not; the munchies, encouraging me to eat when, again, I might just not. I know not everyone gets drowsy when high, but again, that mellow helping me recognize when I'm tired and just give in.

I know a lot of people imbibe extra chemicals to numb and escape, but firstly, I can voluntarily go days, without needing to imbibe; second when I do imbibe, it's like coming back into my body.

So....am I numbing? What am I numbing? What am I hiding from? Am I immune, unlike my father, to chemical dependence? What if the marijuana.....wasn't the problem, but instead.....the pharmaceutical anti-depressants....? Without those in my system--not even in a withdrawal kind of way--I got.....temperamental, like the womb donor. I definitely did not like it, and I did not know how else to make it stop. I was touchier than normal, easily irritated and frustrated by things like my cat's constant whining and crying for over an hour while I'm trying to be at work; and people calling in pissed me off when normally they're just annoying.

But the marijuana was no match for that hair-trigger temper and irritability. And I have not missed that part of my brain. I never, ever want to be like that woman. I wish I could just easily snip out that part of me. However, is it really numbing? Is it hiding, trying to escape, that I continue to use less than prescribed of a prescription drug?

Maybe I'm just not yet able to be that open and honest with myself?

I dunno, I never would have realized that my thoughts race if not for the first time I ever smoked. I may have circumnavigated learning to calm my thoughts by just using marijuana, leading to a situation where I don't need to learn; I can just use chemicals to numb.

I think a little chemical intervention can definitely help you see yourself and your world in a different light. Maybe you like what you see; maybe you don't. I really do appreciate knowing that there is a reality in which I can go straight to sleep without my thoughts whirling on and on. I'm sure if I had the time and the energy, eventually I could teach myself to sleep without chemical intervention. But self-control takes effort and energy. I'd rather devote what I have of those to stuff that really matters and is really important. I lead an incredibly charmed life to be able to fit my marijuana consumption into my spending money. Not to mention, I live in a world where I can just run down the street (in any direction) and I'm not even limited to smoking the plant itself; it's quite fucking amazing.

Anyway, now I'm just exhaustedly rambling and not coming to any kind of conclusion. I will say, the words of one of my professors in college will never leave me: I don't need to make excuses for everything. I don't want to be on the constant defensive with an excuse for everything. I practice every day to take responsibility for my actions. If I'm being irresponsible with marijuana, I want to be open to that (except using it at work; look, some stressors are simply not worth the energy; I don't use it for every hour of every day, I only use it on the insanely busy days and not to a point where anyone would really notice; I just don't get paid enough for the level of stress my job causes me when it gets busy like that). If I'm actually using marijuana to plaster over something or numb it or whatever, I just want to be aware.

I need to be aware. Just because it isn't destroying my liver; just because I'm not getting blackout drunk; doesn't mean that that potential doesn't live in my veins. I'm more intelligent than my father, more keen, more aware and curious and able to ask questions. That doesn't exempt me from a genetic predisposition to chemical/substance dependence and abuse.

I wonder if I'm not just.....over-thinking, maybe verging on.....not quite hypochondria? I've been dependent since I was about eleven, and I fucking know it, and I've never needed chemicals because I have creative and productive things to draw my mind away from my body. It's easy to dismiss my creative endeavors because they're productive, but maybe that's what I'm really hiding and ignoring to acknowledge. I don't need chemicals when I could just grind myself to dust; to go to work and get off work and continue working on things that matter to me, but work nonetheless. I can't really slow down because then, what might I have to face full on in myself?

#inconclusive #?#lying

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psychopompbride · 6 months

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i move out for college and got a place near my uni bcs I can't drive any vehicle whatsoever and public transportation is a myth. i lose my appetite often and walking quite some distance (to and from uni) with empty stomach got me dizzy spells and nausea unlike any other. i go to bed hungry bcs i compile my daily food intake in one meal only. i lose weight (which is good but also unhealthy) and my hair fall is getting worse. there were desperate moments when I can't eat anything bcs my work wasn't done yet and I don't have time to get up and get some food in. water can be nice but it's a temporary solution and i don't feel like going for a pee every 5 seconds.

at a time like this i could imagine ripping my teeth through a kilo of boiled chicken breast, or a whole loaf of bread lightly toast, or a whole pot of instant noodles. it's not the most pleasant thing to put into your belly, but when you're so empty you feel like you need most of everything to fulfill you. it's not the tastiest nor most nutritious but it curbs the hunger and you'll be able to carry on, even though the grease and carbs settling in your belly doesn't feel the least good. it's easier than cooking on your own, bcs I'm no cook so it might be shitty and it takes too much of my time anyway. in some sense, it's almost as if you could feel yourself withering away.

this is dramatic af but i think the severe state of hunger kicked my brain to work a bit and reflect on how i also applied this treatment to other aspects of me and my life, subconsciously or not. i realized i keep watching the same show on repeat (it's not a comfort show and no offense to other people who do this) bcs i know how it would make me feel, even though the boredom and mundanity might kill me someday. i never get to read new books or start a new podcast or pick up new hobbies that I've been dying to get to bcs it's long and i might not like it. i miss opportunities bcs what if i tried and turns out I'm no good for it? i forget about that lovely moss green dress bcs wearing it for the first time might resulted in a wardrobe malfunction.

so i don't really know what to make of this realization. that i have an eating problem and anxiety that stems from shitty time management? maybe. any advice?

#asking for a friend

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skinni-girls-eat-books · 6 months

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Thursday November 9th

6am Woke up really well rested! Good!

Got sad when I saw I didn't have any messages overnight. CBT: This is your anxiety plugging emotions into nothing. Nothing has transpired, there's no real reason to feel anxiety, the anxiety is only coming from inside you.

Why hasn't he texted you? He's sleeping and he's a POS you don't need that controlling your energy. You can't control what he does. Reclaim your energy.

What am I thankful for this morning?

- nights rest, stretches, soft blankets, cool fan, and the fact that I have no hw due tonight! Think about that! ❤️

630am I should buy another candle for the bathroom for my showers lol don't know why the last one went so quick

7am tumblr can be a really nice positive space, it's like the only positive social media like that's kinda insane.

8am about to get ready for class, I can't stop thinking about him. I would like to try to not text him today just to see what happens really. I'm afraid he won't notice or not care and just not text me either. Maybe that's what I need. Whatever this is, is clearly not working. Got to leave early enough to get a coffee bc maybe that will distract me. Drink for lunch too, I'm tired of gorging myself and wasting money on food. Just breathe oh yeah I'm going to take a benadryl and maybe that will help with anxiety.

830am I want to text him so bad but I really shouldn't lol. He doesn't care enough to change. I won't say he doesn't care at all, but he doesn't care enough for me to keep doing this. I got an iced coffee and an egg McMuffin :)

11am Daydreaming about traveling over the break. I need to be realistic tho. I know I am able to take off on a flight somewhere but let's be real I probably won't have the time off and money to do something like that. I'll keep it in mind, but I don't want another Disney scenario where I just go completely broke on one adventure, I'd rather do day trips, maybe an overnight if that even sounds like a good idea. I like sleeping in my own bed unless it's for a really good reason tbh. I want to focus on things around here that I don't typically have availability or mental capacity to do. I know I'll have fun regardless. Maybe even do the plasma thing some afternoons or mornings really to fund the adventures I'll have on my true off days. Just thoughts :)

1130am I passed my HIV patient counseling! It says satisfactory in the gradebook! For some reason I can't see my rubric so I started to panic and doubt myself, but now I know I'm not the only one who can't see their rubric, so I'm sure that part is a fluke/ irrelevant :) just breathe and enjoy the passing grades ❤️ if something is wrong, someone will let you know ❤️

12pm lunchtime! I'm getting curry chicken. Journaling is actually helping a lot and made me realize how intrusive and repetitive my thoughts are when I don't write them down. It's like I need a little vent port for these thoughts to fly out of my brain like steam out of a boiling pot of water. Crazy tbh lol.

1pm Ate lunch outside with some friends and it felt great!!

3pm lol I zoned out during the whole Verbal Defense (not mine!) But then he texted me good afternoon so I sent him a picture of my sweet tea, nothing crazy. I won't let him control my evening. I just wonder what is his motive lol. During class I was looking up free and cheap things to do and it's funny how a little googling can come up with a thousand things to do! So much fun to be had in the world :)

4pm he got me looking at my phone for a text back bitch guess what I'm taking a nap just like I planned lmao I'm not waiting around to talk to you wtf. Call me like I asked you to if you wanna talk, I hate this texting shit and he knows that. What am I a high schooler? Texting bs got you into this mess in the first place dumbass. I'm eating a cupcake and taking a nap.

6pm I have woke up from my nap. No messages lol I guess he just wanted to see if I was alive?? Don't know don't care. Nap was ok, cats kept waking me up or micro waking me up I think but that's ok too :) - There's really only one week left of this bullshit I am so proud of myself ❤️ I actually love the idea of NOT burning myself out the last week so that when I leave school I don't necessarily NEED to do that hibernating thing where I feel like shit for 4-5 days afterwards. I'd like to exit my verbal defense maybe take a nap just like I did today to refresh and then shit take myself out for a nice dinner and get dressed up. Instead of getting drunk and passing out, I can do that most other nights after a closing shift 🤣 I want to start my vacay right away with no need to "recover" in such a drastic manner. Let's see if we can make that happen :) I think that also includes NOT avoiding fun things the next week, bc I always avoid fun stuff when I'm stressed as if I'm going to jinx myself, but I think I'm ready to break that curse of "all work and no play." We shall see ;)

9pm A little tipsy but I'm getting my work done :)

11pm I keep wanting to text him because I'm in a GOOD MOOD but when he doesn't reply it puts me in a bad mood....... So solution is simply DON'T TEXT HIM AND ENJOY YOUR GOOD MOOD QUEEN 😂 he's stupid for leaving and he's missing out on this drunken chill fest tbh and one day, I'll have a fuck ton of friends I've acquired through the years of being myself that I can randomly snap my thoughts to and they'll actually reply and care 😂

12am I know I texted him some dumb shit but idc I still feel good and I love journaling and Tumblr. Getting tacos again for dinner bc JFC I did a LOT of dumb shit work today. He's such a loser he can't do shit by himself not even get a taco 🤣 tbh one day I feel like you'll find someone who's gone through what you've gone through and you'll have so much in common and everything will just be EASY. Yeah I'm fucked but I'm not the only one going through this so I know I have an army of ppl out in the world who would have my back in a heartbeat and THAT'S what matters and what keeps me going fr.

1245am What a weird day. I want to keep journaling so bad I think it'll help me alottttt. I texted him a little but it's like it doesn't matter as much as it did previously lol. It's different now. Let's keep it up :)

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