#not enough sleep
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@mlcpopfan - this sounds like an idea … so I should only work 5 hours today then..😉
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Hi. Prompt list: 19. Buttercup blinking at Blossom. Thanks a lot. Love your blog. Have a nice day. ❤️
this one makes me smile way too much. I never get to write stuff really focusing on their relationship, so let's take a crack at it :)
Prompt 19: you've been blinking SOS in Morse code at me for ten minutes honey this award ceremony is supposed to be honoring you
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“I don’t get it,” Buttercup whined as Blossom wrestled curlers from her sister’s hair.
“Get what?” She grunted as she pulled a particularly stubborn curler out.
“Ow!” Buttercup hissed.
“If you stayed still,” she chided, “this would be way easier.”
“Oh, shut up! This would be easier if you just accepted the award for me! Then we wouldn’t have to do any of—” she gestured to their reflections in the mirror, “—this!”
“It’s not my award to accept,” Blossom muttered around a mouthful of bobby pins, “and you look pretty. There’s nothing wrong with any of this.”
Buttercup slumped down in the vanity chair, crossing her arms with a pout. Blossom pinned the top section of her hair up and pulled baby hairs down to frame her face. The end result something like a petulant child, but that wasn’t so much the hairstyles’ fault—rather Buttercup’s attitude.
Blossom rolled her eyes, “It’ll be fine, Butters. I promise.”
Her sister threw her arms up in the air and huffed, “Can’t you just do it for me!”
"It's not an award for me." She drawled out, leaning over Buttercup to look in the mirror as she curled her own eyelashes, "It would be weird if I did it."
“Hardly. You accept them all the time.”
“On behalf of the team,” She emphasized, popping open her tube of lip gloss. As she applied it, she sighed, “this is for you. You did something amazing. You get to accept the award.”
“It wasn’t amazing,” Buttercup argued, “it’s my job.”
Blossom rolled her eyes, “You singlehandedly saved three separate schools from utter annihilation. Take the compliment, Buttercup.”
“Okay, but—” Buttercup stuttered, fighting against her when she turned to around to apply the lip gloss on her, “—do we have to go through all the pomp? Can’t it just be like, oh thanks, Buttercup, for not letting a bunch of snotty nosed kids die. Here’s a medal, clap, clap.”
Blossom put down her lip gloss, and fixed a smudge of makeup under Buttercup’s eye. “Don’t be silly,” She smiled, “You are very much worth the celebration. You did something good. I know it’s hard for you, but humor everyone and just let them be proud of you.”
Buttercup’s cheeks tinted pink and she looked away. “Well,” she said after a beat of silence, “okay, whatever, but—”
“—girls! Time to go!” the Professor called, and Blossom grabbed Buttercup by the wrist and dragged her out of their bedroom.
“But what?” She asked as they floated down the stairs.
"But what do I even say again?" Buttercup whined as the Professor ushered them to the car.
"What we rehearsed." Blossom calmly suggested as they climbed into the car.
"But what was that again?" Buttercup gripped her seatbelt when they arrived at the amphitheater, staring wide-eyed at the sea of photographers.
"Thank you. This is such an honor. I'll keep working hard to make sure Townsville stays safe, blah, blah, blah. The normal stuff, Buttercup."
"But what if they ask follow-ups!" Buttercup panic-whispered as Blossom pushed her to the stage.
"Then you answer them!"
"But we didn't rehearse for that!"
"You be fine!" She hissed back, “Go!”
“No way,” Buttercup shook her head and braced herself against the stair rails leading up to the stage, “There are too many people and I definitely did not put on enough deodorant.
“Everyone’s here for you. We’re proud of you.” Blossom coached, “Me, Bubbles, and the Professor are right up front. Just look at us the whole time. You’ve got this.”
“No, no way.” Buttercup’s knees locked, “I definitely don’t.”
“Yes,” Blossom repeated, pushing her forward, “you do. Go!”
Buttercup stumbled onto the stage to a roar of applause, and Blossom hurried back to her seat. As she sat down, she sent a reassuring smile to the Professor.
“She’s freaking out, isn’t she?” Bubbles leaned over and whispered.
The smile fell from her face, “Big time. She’s already sweated through her dress.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Mm-hm.”
The crowd around them surged with energy and excitement as the Mayor hyped up the fanfare. If there was one thing that little man was good at, it was rallying up a crowd. The lights were bright, the applause was loud, and overall, the atmosphere was one of joy, but only if you ignored Buttercup.
A cloud of doom and agony swirled above her head as she continued to try to make herself smaller on the stage and desperately tried to edge her way behind Ms. Bellum to hide. It was amazing. For someone so desperate for approval, Buttercup was not good with people. Blossom had seen her sister topple literal mountains, spit in the face of death, and walk backward out of hell with her middle fingers high in the sky, but the moment there was a crowd of more than five people, she went running for the hills.
Blossom had never been able to quite figure out why. She knew Buttercup liked attention. Her sister craved validation and was constantly trying to prove her worth, but Blossom supposed every hero had a weakness, and Buttercup's was social anxiety. From the media moguls to the other kids at school, everyone thought Buttercup's standoffish and intimidating nature was a sign of coolness, but Blossom knew the truth. Just last week, she had seen Buttercup sweat through two shirts just to order one pizza.
The ceremony ticked on and as the Mayor dropped the medal around Buttercup’s neck and the reporters began to swarm the stage, Blossom pointedly ignored Buttercup’s gaze until she could take it no longer.
“Buttercup,” She snapped, her voice low enough that only her sisters’ superhearing could pick it up, “you’ve been blinking SOS at me for the last ten minutes.”
“Then take the hint. And. Save. Me.” Buttercup spoke through gritted teeth of an overly large and awkward smile, “They’re asking follow-ups.”
“No.”
On stage, Buttercup laughed a little too loudly as she answered a reporter’s question, "Oh, you know, it was a good fight, uh, I got in there, I stayed focused, came out on top. Rock n' roll, bay-bee."
"I'm sorry," Blossom’s mouth dropped open as she leaned into Bubbles, "I think I just passed out a little. Did she just finger-gun the camera?"
Bubbles didn't answer her; instead, she tsked, shaking her head, "Oh, that is a lot of sweat."
“Oh shit,” She hissed, “hold on. I’m going to go save her.”
#i didn't edit this one#not enough sleep#i loved this one tho this is my fave so far#ppg drabble#prompt ask game!
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how about little e who is in babyspace and is overtired so he is just cranky all day, maybe he wears pull-ups and also is just raising hell because he is overtired will smack the babyfood we give him, doesn't want his bottle and just has a lot of tantrums?
You knew even last night that today was going to be hell for you and E. Even though he didn't have a show last night, the Colonel kept E in the studio until nearly three am and he didn't get a nap that day already so he was so overtired and ready to raise hell. But if he doesn't get up now, tonight is going to be hell also getting him to bed. So you have no choice but to get him up. You walk into his nursery that you and him had specially made in Graceland after he revealed his regression to you.
You had gotten him home after the studio, afraid if he drove himself he'd pass out behind the wheel and he immediately went to the nursery and after you got ready for bed yourself and went into the nursery to grab him, he was already passed out on his belly, paci in his mouth, his bunny clutched in his arm. You didn't dare wake him.
But now you had to. So proceeding with caution was your plan. You went in armed with his bottle made specifically the way he likes it. "El, baby, you gotta get up, hon." Nothing, he's a rock under his blankie. "Eeeeelvis?" You sing-song his name and shake the bottle. He groans at you that time but hey, at least it's a response.
You walk up to him and run your hand through his hair, placing his bottle on the bedside table. "I know you're tired lovie. Colonel shouldn't have kept you out so late, huh?" Elvis just squinted at you, so tired. You take the rails down on his specially made bed and sit beside him, rubbing the middle of his back. "What do you say we get you outta that wet diaper and we go have some breakfast, hmm? We have a lazy day, how does that sound?" Elvis just whimpers, "Mmmm" while knuckling his sleepy eyes.
Elvis is even more exhausted than you thought and it breaks your heart because as your getting him changed for the day and getting him comfy again, he passes out again and doesn't offer any help so the challenge of getting him dressed is quite difficult but you get it done.. somehow.
He also clings to you when you pick him up and tries to refuse to sit anywhere for breakfast, just wanting to be physically attached to and napping on you.
"I'm gonna stay here baby, I promise I'm not gonna go anywhere, so can we please sit and have breakfast together, huh? Can we do that?" You eventually get Elvis to sit in his chair and he is not happy about it. He slams his fist on the table as you prepare his baby food and at first he's just doing it because he's hungry and impatient, wanting the food but nope, that was not it. He was just in a mood.
Seeing you stand right in front of him with the bowl of food as you start to mix it, he gets even more impatient, slamming his palm on the tray of his highchair and screaming, "Ma! Ma! Ma!" You set the bowl of his food on the table behind you and put your hands on your knees, getting down on his level with him and grabbing his chin. "Elvis, honey, I understand you're hungry darling but you gotta be patient. Mama is working as fast as she can okay? Cut her a break, yes?" Elvis groans and tries his head away out of your hand, whining.
You thought he was hungry but as soon as you sit in front of him and spoon up some of the baby food, offering it to him, he starts to refuse it. You try the train trick, the airplane, everything. He pouts, shaking his head, yelling and flailing his fists. You try one last time to get him to eat even just a little bit but you misjudged where he was going to toss his fist and he hits the spoon in your hand, flinging the food all over you and causing the little spoon to fall to the floor.
"Elvis!" As you start to clean yourself up and clean up the floor, when Elvis realizes your attention is no longer on him, he gets even more angry if that's even possible. He can't get out the highchair by himself but damn does he try. He grips the tray of the highchair and throws all of his strength into it, trying to get it unlatched to throw it across the room to be able to be free from this little prison. But these (the little space ones at least) things were built for feats of strength like Elvis's.
When he realized he was trapped, at least until you helped him, all hell broke loose. He threw his head back, tears and snot covering his face as he screamed, kicking his legs. You pace the kitchen a couple times as he has his meltdown, just wanting your attention back and to be comforted trying to figure out how to fix this. Finally you decide to get him out of the highchair. He watches you as you easily unclasp the tray of it, setting it leaning up against the ''big people table" as Elvis called it. How the fuck did you do that so easily? Little Elvis thought as he realized he was now free. So easily free.
"C'mere baby." You lift him out the chair and walk to the living room placing him the extra large playpen that takes up about the half of the white living room. You place him in it and he looks up at you, feeling something is up. "I'm gonna go make you a bottle baby. Mama will be back in ten minutes okay? You're okay, I'll be next door okay?" Surprisingly, he doesn't cry and scream like he was just doing as you walk away. That's weird you thought.
Elvis had the idea to get back at you for leaving the room when he's so clearly upset. He crawled over to the big pile of toys inside his playpen and takes them all into his lap, using all of his strength to hurl each toy as far as he can one by one.
You can hear him throwing things as your finishing the bottle but you just need a minute. You're guessing he's overtired and he most definitely get a mid morning nap but he needed to eat something first. But putting off his sleep is causing him to throw tantrum after tantrum after tantrum. You sit down at the table for a minute and just put your head down on your arm, taking deep breaths, trying not to get angry at him. It's not his fault, it's the damn Colonel who kept him awake because the bastard saw dollar signs in your baby's eyes. Fuck him.
When you come back into the room not even ten minutes later, as expected the room was basically trashed. You put your hands on your hips, breathing deeply through your nose and open up the playpen so Elvis can come closer to you. He immediately crawls toward you and hugs onto your waist, pitifully starting to cry baby. "I know baby. I don't know why you're being such a bad boy today." Elvis doesn't answer you, he just continues to cry, hugging you to him. He was clinging onto you like you just got back from a week long vacation without him.
"Alright, you need to get something in your little belly, sweets. You think you can drink a bottle?" Elvis just shrugs, sucking on his thumb. "Just a little?" Elvis shrugs again. You might as well try.
Trying to get him to lay on the couch with you during the feeding almost causes yet another meltdown so you decide to just let him pick where he takes his bottle, as long as he drinks it. You sigh. "Okay, where do you wanna lay down bubba? Pick somewhere and I'll give you the bottle, okay?" Elvis angrily just flops onto his back on the carpet in the middle of the room, reaching his arms above his head, looking up at you expectantly.
You shrug, sometimes you just gotta pick your battles. You sit next to him and inch the nipple of the bottle into your mouth. Elvis starts to fight it as it empties into his mouth but eventually stops once you put your hand on his belly, rubbing it trying to comfort him until he gets to the end of it.
You smile when you realize he is absolutely passed out again by the end of the bottle. Good, now you can eat breakfast and clean up. But at least he's getting some rest. You vow never again to let the Colonel keep him working that late again. Not over your dead body.
*
I hope you liked it! I hope it was okay! If you have any other requests feel free to put them in my inbox <3
@mooodyblue
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Today doesn't exist
And tomorrow is on probation
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ヽ（≧□≦）ノ
#ok cant sleep#keep crying#eyes hurt#why didnt meletonin work like it does every night#alarm going off in 6 hours#not enough sleep#dont feel tired at all#just anxious#so so so anxious#why is this feeling happening#i canceled plans with the guy earlier because anxiety was just not letting me leave my apartment#i got fully ready to go out and just couldnt do it#ngl i think a part of it is not having glasses#like there are much bigger fish to fry but i kind of feel like having my glasses is a little tiny piece of armor#((not to mention its super disorienting when everything is blurry))#((do you know how many times i poked myself in the face today because i kept trying to adjust my glasses that werent there))#i hate having my face exposed#its too real#tbh i would wear sunglasses 24/7 if it was normal#then people wouldnt give me shit all the damn time about eye contact#ppl call eyes the window to the soul then call ME weird for not wanting to look into them#sorry the WINDOWS to your SOUL are a little much for me#FUCK I NEED TO SLEEP#alarm in 5 hours and 55 mins
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“THEY’RE GAY, GOD FUCKING DAMMIT” -me yelling about Jace and Simon in just a robe and dinosaur feet slippers, alone in my kitchen, with more than one spoon in my mouth
#I’m on one rn#too much excitement#not enough sleep#no who am I kidding this is just what I’m like#goob’s unfiltered thoughts#goob in the wild#jimon
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Downside to having metal head parents, I try listening to some songs a friend recomended and I start dozing because mum used to have a lot of noise and simalar music playing in the background so I'd get used to activity and stuff going on and not be fussy(worked a little too well since I'd literally be like yep nap time now&find some random place to sleep while we were out&doing stuff lol)
Also now can't sleep if its quiet lol, I tend to put some childhood faves on to go to sleep to, The Serial Killers are surprisingly soothing 😅 Three Little Pigs was a was a fave as a kiddo
Also hands up to metal kiddos who leaned how to headbang before they ever even started going to school. I've never even been to a concert but I am bomb ass at banging!
#metal music#metal generation#growing up metal#metal family#shitpost#im just tired#tired thoughts#energy drinks are my lifes blood#have not slept#not enough sleep#too much caffeine
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i am experiencing the consequences of my actions and i don’t care for it one bit
#not enough sleep#airports bad for brain#and in synching my phone last night#i somehow deleted my airport playlist#woopsie doodles
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#meme#mattsmemes#memes that make you go hmmm#no sleep#not enough sleep#insomnia#fred flintstone#raise your hand#i feel attacked
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Today's mood is very Live, Laugh, Lobotomize myself.
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I'm starting to think I just went from regular migraines to cluster migraines
#i don't know what to do anymore#it feels like everything is a cause#the weather#the light#not having coffee#not having breakfast#my sinus#my constantly blowing my nose at all fucking hours of the day#loud noises#too much sun#wearing sunglasses when its darker#not enough sleep#too much sleep#neck pain#back pain#speaking too loud#dead ass these all feel like they cause me migraines#i haven't been to the neurologist in years bc I sincerely didn't need it#i did treatment before and i got better#but it just got worse out of nowhere#and I am fucking sick of doctors#i genuinely dont have time for more appointments
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every now n then i can hear my mother screaming that i make her want to kill her self.
i hear her screaming like it’s entering every individual hole and pore in my body.
i don’t know why i haven’t taken myself out of her life, or ended mine?
is it too cliche to say i’m better off dead?
why does she come running saying i’m the only light in her life when she has indefinitely burnt mine out?
but momma, i thought i made you want to die?
your lover even told me i’m the only one capable & with enough power to come home and find his wife dead in their bath tub.
so why do you run to me?
oh
you need me again
i must complete a task & we will be good again
she provides for me so i must obey her.
i understand now, i will no longer tell you how many times you’ve stabbed my heart and left your sword.
leaving your sword acts as a stopper preventing the gallons of blood that would pour out of me that you don’t have the time to clean up because of three words you refuse to believe, “you hurt me”
i understand now, i will forever hold my peace
i will weep silently behind you
because that’s what it takes to keep this inhumane yet loving monster here.
#mommy issues#narcissismawareness#narsist#growing up#daddy issues#i hate it so much#hates me#im not mentally stable#not enough though#not enough sleep#not enough time#i just want to sleep#i want to leave#best mommy#i’m horrible#toxic mom#death and dying#dying inside#im awful
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I wish my brain would just shut up for once.
#tw depressing thoughts#depression shit#depression tw#tw oversharing#tw overthinking#tw anxiety#anxitey#anxi4ty#mental health#mental illness#unalive#not enough sleep#sad thoughts#overthinking#depressing tw#depressing thoughts#depression is killing me
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I’ve been playing Hades and it’s made me realize some things and question some things. I realize that I don’t know nearly as much of Greek mythology and lore as I should. And it’s made me question the things I know very little of. Like Persephone can’t go home because she ate of the local cuisine? Really? Sounds made up. Test that maybe before you believe it, Perse? And does it work in reverse too? One of the underworld deities goes topside, has a sandwich, and can never go home again? *squints in skepticism* Yeah, no, that doesn’t sound real. Speaking of… Hades himself can’t go topside anymore. He used to be able to but then his brothers made him move underground and told him he couldn’t ever leave. His brothers. His brothers. *squints in youngest sibling* You believe your brothers, Hades? Tf? Why? Go touch grass, my dude.
Anyway. That’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to say that I’ve not actually made a playlist, giving (some) of the gods and others of note a song.
The Furies: Paris Paloma - the fruits
Zeus: Anti-Hero - Taylor Swift (he doesn’t get Sam Smith’s Unholy bc Hera is not unaware)
Hera: Dream Girl Evil - Florence + The Machine
Thanatos: Oh Death - Jen Titus version
Charon: Way down We Go - KALEO
Dionysus: I can’t feel my face - The Weekend, Bad Habits - Ed Sheeran, CUFF IT - Beyoncé (and many many more)
Dusa: Working 9 to 5 - Dolly Parton
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I’m not alcohol hungover, but I’m definitely, “two of my favorite humans got married last night and it was a very fun time,” hungover.
And now I have to summon the energy to be a good bridesmaid at this bridal shower.
Pray 4 me.
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