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#... I'll figure something out. I always do. but I'm so tired.
copperbadge · 2 days
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Hi Sam! Just wanted to drop you a big thank you for sharing your journey with ADHD and diagnosis so openly here. I got my official diagnosis today and a big part of what finally convinced me to talk to a doc about it was seeing other "high functioning" adults learn about it later in life and find benefits from having the diagnosis. So thanks for the boost! And... whatever well wishes ADHDers wish one another? May your attention be focused!
Hey, congratulations and also my sympathy! Great to have a diagnosis but also...you know, sucks to a) not have had it sooner and b) have to have it.
I definitely like "May your attention be focused" :D Although of course that's the thing about ADHD -- your attention isn't focused until it's really focused and then it's not always focused on the right thing.
Like, I've figured out -- you all know how I love my timers, I love to time shit -- I've worked out that when I take my Adderall in the morning, I have to set a timer for 20 minutes. I use immediate release, and I know that it's almost exactly 25 minutes from "take the pill" to "pill kicks in" because I can feel it start to work.
So when I take the pill, I start the timer, and when the timer goes off I stop whatever I'm doing, a cold stop, doesn't matter what I'm up to, and I go to my computer and I start work for the day. Because if I'm not "at work" when the pill kicks in, whatever I was doing is now what I'm going to be doing for the entire morning. Or I'll finish it but be unable to start something new, so I not only won't be doing work, I won't be doing anything productive at all.
The nice thing is, even if I'm not taking Adderall that particular day for whatever reason, it still helps, because if I sit down to work I'm now acclimatized to focus on it for a few minutes, and I'll still have pretty good focus for at least an hour or two.
It's wild to think about cognition not just in terms of "being focused" but in terms of managing focus appropriately. It can be tiring but at least knowing is better than not. :)
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eclarinet · 2 months
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same soup... different day
#hello it is sarah in the tags again#i feel like i tell myself i'll actually use this as a blog and then i forget and then i remember and then i forget again#venting ahead if that is not ur jam (talking to the 2 followers who actually see my posts)#i like tumblr because it;s so removed from my personal life that it feels really like a place i dont have to be anything for anyone#anyway i've been wondering if i should go back to therapy again but i feel like they might get tired of me because i keep bailing and comin#back like an addict lol like i swear i'll commit this time! sike. ghost be upon ye#anyway this time i'd come in for the big D#i don't like the floor it just feels closer to being six feet under and a bit like where i belong#i feel like a great number of things have happened in the past year and i've met all of it with a very lukewarm sense of dread and anxiety#its not even about feeling happy i dont even think i can feel shaken by anything. i feel like people see my apathy and think it's confidenc#anyway im not going back. they always say the same thing. can't do shit about shit life syndrome. and i don't want pills i'm so sick of the#isn't it something that i'm especially depressed the day before i start my new job? it's a tradition at this point. cheers#isn't it cruel that everyone in my life seem to put me on some kind of bizarre pedestal and no one questions my decisions or authority and#i battle with myself to figure out if i'm doing the right thing (no one will tell me the truth they are all scared of me getting angry)#was talking with a friend about how it'll be if i join their group project in a module we're taking soon.#and she's like well isn't it obvious? everyone will just listen to whatever you say and we'll end up doing well.#no one would challenge you because you're always right. and it's like.. yeah. i guess. okay. (hate that i know she's not wrong)#lol can u tell this is why house is kind of getting to me. learning lots of things about myself watching that man commit medical malpractic#anyway. i didn't ghost my therapist this time i remember now. she left the clinic lol she asked me to connect on linkedin. that was amusing#i always feel like the therapists here never know what to do with me and i kind of have to hold their hand a bit through my psyche#also they seem to be a bit at awe of me which is a bit annoying. and i know that definitely sounds like Issues but it's just like#ugh not you too. please stop i'm sick of it i'm sick with it. i don't want you to be inspired by my awful life and how i handled it#and i have nothing to say for it but... *gestures vaguely* of all of this
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piplupod · 4 months
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every day i see people talking about things that I simply do not understand no matter how much I look into it and think about it and try to figure it out. i cannot tell if it's brainfog and fatigue or if I'm just ,,,, incapable of being intelligent enough for it all :[
#i sure do feel like a fucking idiot lately!#I wish I wasn't (weren't?) aware of how stupid i am but unfortunately i am acutely aware of it and I can't seem to do anything about it#like... why am i unable to comprehend things. why can't i figure it out if I go learn about it. why does it just not Click for me.#becoming increasingly aware of just how little i know and how naive i am and i have to say ... its frightening me fhfkdl#i feel like i am going to be fucking mauled if i say anything ever or if i try to participate in any conversations of worth#so I've just been staying quiet constantly. but then I just feel disconnected from everything and everyone#because i never participate! i just stand in the bg and listen and watch!!#but what's driving me crazy is i dont even seem to be learning in any significant way!! even though im just listening all the time!!#why can't i make any progress in understanding shit 😭 why is it all still just as out of reach as when i started !!#i really feel like there is something very wrong with my brain but idk what to do about it dhfjdkl#I've been isolating a lot more than usual the past couple months because i just feel so useless and stupid compared to everyone else#but then i talk to ppl irl and i feel like I'm operating on a higher level of social awareness than most ppl#which then makes me feel bad bc i worry im somehow thinking im better than other ppl but its not that fhdkdl#i just get tired of like... guiding the conversation for ppl and smoothing over social potholes#like im always the one driving the conversational vehicle. and if i stop driving then we crash. idk if this makes sense#but then online im always the one who is one step behind everyone else and making blunders#so ... I don't know what to do anymore fhfjdkl i think smth has gotten very broken in my brain and idk what it is or how to fix it#UHMM ANYWAYS. this is ... a rant and a half. oops.#im the worlds most average joe cool though 👍 nothing to worry about or see here! (<- sarcasm i think)#this is one of my worst vents of all time actually fbfjdkl this one is just a real stinker#just kind of incomprehensible and way too self-pitying methinks. oh well! I'll delete it if i think better of it later dbfjdkl#pippen needs 2nd breakfast
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Every time something good happens I crash and burn afterwards and feel so depressed. I wish it wasn't that way.
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agueforts · 3 months
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yet another stream of consciousness post about how i'm doing nothing with my life and it #sux or whatever
#aspen tag#it's kind of. well. i don't know how to start this off without feeling self-aggrandizing#because as true as it is that a lot of my ego roots in intelligence it's not actually the point rn. it's barely even a part of it#like. achievement doesn't come from talent. achievement doesn't even necessarily come from skill at all#achievement comes from motivation. from meaining. from something being worth doing#and. idk. i'm a thinker. my mind's always moving towards something. there's a stream of thoughts and it never stops flowing#and it's just. i mean. i LIKE thinking for the sake of thinking. i really do#i like working things out in my head and looking stuff over just to get a better picture and doing it just because it's there and i can#but none of it is going anywhere. and i'd like to be going somewhere#the thing about falling out of habits is that they become absences so easily#and it sneaks up on you. all the things in your life that are now not#i like learning and creating and puzzling through something. i like trying new things in new ways and figuring it out as i go#i like diving headfirst into whatever i happen to be working on and just living in there for a while#i like a challenge and i like investing myself and i like engaging and complex and FUN#and i don't. do anything with that anymore#i don't have hobbies. i don't get out of the house. i don't really put passion towards anything regardless of if it's there for me to have#and it's not about wasted potential. it's not about having the skill or the aptitude or the resources or any of that shit#it's about how i LIKE doing it‚ and i'm not. that's the point. that's the problem#it's just. draining. to feel like nothing in your head ever makes it into the world#if there was ever a throughline in my dissatisfaction it'd be insignificance#i have an untapped well of myself i'd so eagerly apply if i had a door or a key or any way to get it where it needs to go#but i don't. none of it seems to move anything#i don't know. i'm tired. that's all of it. distilled down into a pair of words far too simple for the weight they carry#well-worn track in the surface of my mind. every passing day the grooves deepen#and there could be a path outside of it. but i don't know how to make one#i don't know how to start. and isn't that every problem i've ever had in a nutshell#adhd! it's fantastic. i'm going nowhere and i've been going there for a long fucking while#and as far as i can tell i'll be going there for another while yet.#i guess that's all there is to it. or at least as much as i've got. i'm tired of being tired and i don't know where that leads me#but it doesn't really seem like i'm doing anything worth losing. so i might as well just let it do what it does
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stylesispunk · 2 months
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'The other side of the door'
Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
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summary: Joel is giving you the silent treatment until you come back home hurt, and he wasn't there.
w.c: idk.
warnings: angst, miscommunication, mentions of a broken arm, fluff.
a/n: this is me after having an outburst about not writing again. If this flops I will have another one and I'll take a break forever. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌
dividers by: @/saradika-graphics
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It was 2 a.m., and you were sobbing on the cold bathroom floor like a little girl, asking for her mother to kiss the tears away. The pain on your now broken arm was unbearable, but the stillness in your heart was worse, enveloped in a shirt that belonged to your brother-in-law instead of your boyfriend because he didn’t pick up the phone after the officers called him.
Instead, Tommy picked you up, rushing to you the moment he saw you by the ambulance with a sling around your left side and a bandage on your forehead.
“Oh my god! Are you okay? Where is Joel?” He said something, touching your face for some sort of answer, but you stopped listening to him after Joel’s name was mentioned.
“I don’t know where Joel is.” You said it monotonously.
Tommy's face paled as he realized the gravity of the situation. "It's going to be alright; we'll find him," he said, though his voice trembled with uncertainty.
“He didn’t pick up the phone,” you said again. “He hasn’t talked to me in a week, Tommy.”
“My brother can be grumpy sometimes; you know him,” he said, trying to find a way to make you smile, but you felt just ashamed.
You didn’t mean to be hit by a car on the on the way home, but everything happened so fast, and your mind was everywhere but focused on the road ahead of you.
“What if I call him?” he offered.
“He turned off the phone after my call,” you said, standing up slowly with the help of the paramedic.
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Tommy helped you into the backseat of his truck, making sure you were secure before he slid into the driver’s seat. The drive to your house was quiet, save for your occasional wince of pain and Tommy’s sighs of worry. He kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror, his concern evident.
Once home, Tommy guided you inside, supporting your weight gently. He settled you on the couch and handed you a glass of water. "You need to rest," he said softly. "I’m sure you both will figure this out in the morning."
You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. The pain in your arm was a constant reminder of the accident, but the ache in your heart was a dull, persistent throb. You clutched Joel’s shirt tighter around you, its familiar scent providing a small comfort.
“Do you want me to stay here and beat him once he arrives?” He asked jokingly, making you smile for a mere second.
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” you said, managing a weak smile despite the situation. “But thank you, Tommy.”
He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Joel can be stubborn, but he loves you. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but sleep was still a distant hope.
Tommy stayed with you for a little while longer, making sure you were comfortable. He adjusted the pillows around you and tucked the blanket more securely. "You should get some sleep," he said gently. "I'll stay until you do."
You nodded, too tired to argue, but you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. You tried to focus on the comforting presence of Tommy, the warmth of Joel's shirt, and the hope that things would be better in the morning.
Eventually, Tommy rose from the couch. "I'm going to head out now. You can call me if you need anything, okay?"
You managed a small nod. "Thanks, Tommy. I really appreciate it."
He gave you a reassuring smile, though the worry never left his eyes. "Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning." He squeezed your shoulder gently before heading to the door.
You listened to the sound of the door closing and the silence that followed. The house felt impossibly quiet and empty. The weight of the evening pressed down on you, and tears welled up in your eyes again.
There was Joel’s shirt on the couch, and you clutched it tighter with your left arm, breathing in the faint scent of him. The memories of the accident replayed in your mind—the screeching tires, the impact, the confusion. But what hurt the most was Joel’s absence, his phone turned off, and the uncertainty of where he was or why he hadn’t answered.
You stood up, walking upstairs towards your and Joel’s bedroom, but instead of lying on the bed, you walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, and slid down, sitting on the floor. Tears began to flow down your cheeks.
Joel wasn't home. Now that you needed him, he was out somewhere, still avoiding you.
You sat on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the door, and let the tears flow freely. The pain in your arm was nothing compared to the ache in your heart. You felt abandoned, hurt, and utterly alone.
As the minutes passed, you lost track of time, consumed by the overwhelming sadness. The sound of your sobs echoed off the tiled walls, and you didn’t hear the faint sound of a key turning in the front door or the footsteps on the stairs.
Joel moved through the house with a growing sense of urgency, the emptiness and silence amplifying his fear. It wasn't until he stepped inside the bedroom that he heard you wiping from the bedroom.
Gently, he opened the door and saw you sitting on the cold floor, clutching to your own arm and sobbing uncontrollably. The sight broke his heart, and he immediately kneeled beside you, his presence startling you from your sorrow.
"What the hell happened?" he asked softly, ignoring your plea. He didn’t understand why you were this hurt when, in the morning, you were perfectly fine.
"Go." You whispered, ashamed of yourself for being hurt and crying.
"Now you want to talk?" you asked, standing up carefully and using the wall for support.
Joel reached out to steady you, his touch gentle but firm. "Please, just tell me what happened," he said, his voice filled with concern.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I was hit by a car on my way home. It happened so fast, and I was so scared. The officers called you, but you didn't answer. Tommy came instead."
Joel's face paled, his eyes widening with shock and guilt. "I had no idea. My phone died, and I was out of town.”
You could see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt and anger you felt couldn’t be ignored. "You haven't talked to me in a week, Joel. I needed you, and you weren't there."
Joel's shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you because of it. Please, let me make it right."
You looked at him, and the regret was evident on his face. It mirrored your own feelings, and slowly, the anger began to melt away, replaced by a longing for things to be better. "I just needed you," you repeated, your voice trembling.
Joel took a step closer, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm here now. I promise, I’ll never let you down again.”
"You didn't seem to care about me for the last week, Joel."
"Lo—"
"Don't you dare call me that now. I'm mad at you," you interrupted, your eyes flashing with anger.
Joel looked stricken, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words. "I know I messed up. I know I've been distant, and I'm so sorry. But please believe me, I do care about you more than anything."
You took a step back, needing space to think and process everything. "If you care so much, why did you ignore me? Why did you shut me out over missing dinner?"
His heart broke at the sight of you, staring away from him with dried tears on your cheeks. He didn't have words left to make this better, nor a way to ask for forgiveness or soothe your heart after breaking it without real intention behind it.
He was angry at you for missing the dinner, and he wanted to get it back at you.
But this? This wasn't what he wanted.
"I can't say how sorry I am," Joel continued, his voice cracking.
"Well, don't say it then," you snapped back.
"Love—"
“No! I'm tired, and everything hurts. My arm is broken, and I feel so humiliated right now. I just want to go to sleep,” you cried out, the words pouring out in a torrent of emotion.
"Okay, let me help you,” he said, reaching out to touch your shoulder, but you stepped back from him.
"No, everything you have done for the past week makes me cry," you said, the weight of your words hanging in the air. "You make me cry," you sobbed into your hand, trying to sweep the tears away.
Lifting your gaze, you looked at Joel, who seemed to be conflicted. His brown eyes, now glassy with unshed tears, almost made you give in.
"Could you please sleep in the guest room tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel's face fell, but he nodded slowly, understanding the need for space. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be in the guest room. If you need anything, anything at all, just call me."
You nodded, too drained to respond further. Joel hesitated for a moment, then turned and left the room, the weight of his footsteps heavy on the floor. As he reached the bedroom, he turned towards you.
“Do you want to know why I was so mad at you for missing that dinner?” He asked, his voice low and filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability.
You looked at him, the exhaustion and pain making it hard to process everything, but you nodded slightly, curious despite yourself.
Joel took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “It wasn’t just about the dinner. It was because I had planned to ask you to marry me that night.”
The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. You stared at him, the weight of his confession taking a moment to sink in. You felt your heart beating so fast.
“Joel,” you started, your voice trembling. “I had no idea.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And that’s on me. I should have talked to you instead of shutting you out. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry for everything.”
The revelation left you feeling even more conflicted. The pain of the past week, the accident, and now this. You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded, feeling the tears welling up again.
Joel took a step back, giving you space, but not without planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, just next to the bandage. “Goodnight,” he said gently, before turning and walking to the guest room.
After that, you lay down, clutching Joel's pillow tightly against your chest, the familiar scent providing a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. As you closed your eyes, the weight of the day slowly began to lift.
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The night dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. You tossed and turned in bed, unable to find comfort. The weight of Joel's confession and the emotional turmoil of the past week kept you from sleeping peacefully. The silence of the house was deafening, and the pain in your arm felt almost secondary to the ache in your heart.
Around 3 a.m., unable to bear the loneliness any longer, you decided to go to the guest room. Moving slowly and carefully, you made your way down the hallway, each step mindful of your broken arm. The pain was a constant reminder of the day’s events, but the burning desire to be near Joel overpowered it.
You opened the guest room door quietly, the creak of the hinges making you wince slightly. Joel was lying on the bed, his back turned to you. You carefully slipped into the room, trying not to disturb him too much. The guest bed was slightly too small, but you managed to settle in beside him, positioning yourself so as not to jostle your arm too much.
Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked, his gaze shifting to you. Confusion and surprise crossed his face as he saw you lying next to him. He sat up, pushing himself on one elbow, his brow furrowed in concern.
“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, his voice still heavy with sleep.
You shifted slightly to face him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t sleep... I needed to be close to you.”
Joel’s eyes softened, and he reached out carefully, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Are you okay? Does your arm hurt?”
“It hurts,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I just needed to be near you, to feel like everything might be okay.”
Joel nodded, understanding the depth of your need. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said again, though his tone was gentler this time. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll do everything I can to make it right. Please, just let me be here for you.”
You reached out and took his hand, feeling curiosity creeping up. “About the proposal,” you began. “Are you planning to ask me soon?”
Joel's eyes softened, and he looked at you with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. “I was planning to ask you that night,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with regret. “But now I don’t feel like I deserve you.”
You searched his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.
Joel took a deep breath, his expression serious yet tender. “Now, I want to make sure we’re in a good place before I ask you. I want it to be right, and I don’t want to rush into it just to fix things. But I can’t deny that I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
You smiled softly in the darkness, your heart swelling with emotion. “I would love for you to ask me now,” you whispered.
Joel chuckled softly, a sound that was warm and comforting in the quiet of the night. “Even with the broken arm?” he asked, his voice light with affection.
You nodded, your smile widening. “Even with the broken arm, I know we have things to work through, but I’d still say yes.”
Joel’s laughter was gentle, filled with relief and affection. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Alright, then. I promise that when the time is right, I’ll ask you properly. For now, let’s focus on getting better and being here for each other.”
You nestled closer to him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t need a fancy proposal in a fancy restaurant, Joel. I just want you,” you said softly.
Joel’s expression softened even more, his hand gently stroking your hair. “And you have me,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “No matter what, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together, and when the time is right, we’ll take the next step together too.”
You let out a small, playful sigh. “Okay, if there isn’t a ring on my breakfast tomorrow, I’ll be mad,” you joked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Joel laughed softly, the sound a comforting balm to your troubled heart. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone light but warm.
He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and sincere. “So, would you like to marry me?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for a response.
The question hung in the air, tender and unexpected. You looked at him, your heart swelling with emotion. The warmth and love you felt in that moment made it clear that you were ready to take that next step.
With a smile that spoke of both relief and joy, you nodded. “Yes, Joel. I would love to marry you.”
Joel’s face lit up with a mixture of happiness and relief. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness to avoid hurting your broken arm. “I’m so glad,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll make it work, I promise.”
You snuggled closer to him, the sense of security and love filling you with a peaceful calm. As you closed your eyes, the laughter and playful banter gave way to a hopeful, contented sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his presence and the promise of a future together.
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sincerelybubbles · 2 months
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hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.
Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.
"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"
"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.
"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.
"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."
It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.
The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?
"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.
"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."
"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."
"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.
"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."
Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."
"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.
"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."
"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."
"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.
"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.
"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"
Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.
"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.
You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."
You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.
You're unsuccessful.
The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.
No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.
You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.
Because it's more than physical.
He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.
That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.
You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.
"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.
"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.
"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."
You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.
He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.
"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."
You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.
"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."
He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.
"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."
"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.
Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.
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luveline · 11 months
Note
gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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comicaurora · 7 days
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Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?
I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.
So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.
What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.
Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.
So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.
So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.
I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.
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gojoux · 1 year
Note
Reaction of the JJK men (Gojo, Toji, Nanami, Choso) when you fall asleep waiting for their return !!!!
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍
Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.
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◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Gojo is a busy man with missions, so when he's very busy, he'd often come home after a few days or the very least he could do was come home late. When he notices you, the first thing he does is let out a small smile. “My baby was waiting for me, hm?” He walks towards you and sits beside you as he admires your features, brushing the back of his index finger on your cheek, “You look so cute even when you're asleep. I think you know that already.” He chuckles quietly before joining you to sleep on the couch as well, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you close to him, mumbling, “We have a lot to catch up on when you wake up,” before closing his eyes.
◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
It was a bit late at night since he had some business to do with money-collecting monkeys. “Oh, my love is asleep. What should I do?” He talks to himself in a lighthearted tone before sitting down next to you, and placing your head on his lap as he caresses your head gently with a smile on his face like you're the only person he loves. He'd ask someone to bring a blanket and he'll drape it over your body. He doesn't know what strong will of a cursed spirit he consumes but he could stay in this position for quite some time just to admire you as you sleep. “Sweet dreams to you, love.”
◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
In his situation, let's say he just came back home from doing... whatever you imagined. He's too immersed at the moment that he doesn't realize it's already late and now, he already has someone waiting for him at home. “Hmm? Already asleep? I didn't think I took that long.” He'd toss his robe to the side and sit down in front of your sleeping body, “Look at you, willing to stay up for me until you fall asleep.” He chuckles. “We have quite a few things to do once you wake up. Until then, dream of me.” He then sighs when he sees you probably fall off the couch, “I don't want to sleep on the floor though,” as he lifts your body and walks towards the bed.
◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
It's always the same case with him if he comes home late, overtime. He'd feel sorry for not coming home earlier since you must have been very sleepy just to wait for him. His shoulder slumps as he closes the door and loosens his tie as he walks towards the couch to see you already asleep. “You must be tired waiting for me.” He'd sit beside you and hold your hand, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. He immediately notices the position you're sleeping in and lets out a sigh again, “That can't be comfortable,” as he lays your body down. He'll join you to sleep, resting his back on the couch's pillow and placing a hand on your body.
◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
“I'm home.” He'd be worried and concerned when he came home and saw you sleeping on the couch alone at night but he'd be relieved when he saw that you had at least a blanket wrapped over you. He'd just sit beside you, staring at your peaceful face in deep slumber. “I'm sorry I came back home late, I have something to do.” He'd caress your arm, apologizing for whatever reason he's late even when you're sleeping. “I'm afraid I'll wake you up if I lift you to the bedroom.” He makes himself comfortable on the couch as he tries to think of a few things he can do to make you a little happy later on once you wake up.
◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
“Hmm?” He'd be confused when you're not there by the door to greet him like usual. He walks close towards the couch to see you there, already fast asleep. His eyes glance towards the clock to show the time that indeed is already late, and he immediately figures that you must be asleep waiting for him since you're not in bed as usual. “You shouldn't wait for me when you're already sleepy, I told you this. You're so stubborn sometimes.” He says to himself with a shake of his head, a small grin appears on his face, as he kneels to look at your face better. “I'm glad you're willing to wait for me though.” He chuckles to himself as he caresses your head.
◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
Megumi would stare at your sleeping body on the couch, hugging his dog plushie with no blanket to be seen, and then glance at the clock, showing that it's not that late yet, before letting out a soft sigh. “(Y/N).” He carefully shakes you awake, feeling a bit guilty as he does so since you must be feeling sleepy to fall asleep quite earlier than usual. Once your eyes slowly open, he'll hold your hand gently. “You shouldn't sleep on the couch like this just to wait for me... you'll catch a cold.” He cares so much for you and he's trying to show it with his way. “Next time, just wait in the bedroom. Now let's go to bed. You can continue to sleep there.” He squeezes your hand in his. “I will join you after I shower, okay?”
◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” He asks your sleeping body before kneeling in front of your laid down body on the couch. “You look so cute.” He mumbles as he admires your face. He sleeps on the couch sometimes, he doesn't mind a bit of soreness since the couch is not exactly as soft as the bed, but he doesn't want you to feel the same. “(Y/N)... (Y/N)...” He pokes your cheek with his index finger gently to wake you up. “Let's go to bed? I'll give you a nice, big cuddle.” He grins widely as he waits for you to open your eyes when you start to stir in your sleep from his constant poking. “Let me help you get up, you're still sleepy.”
◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
Yuta would be surprised that you're willing to make yourself sleep less comfortable on the couch waiting for him. “Eh? Why are you sleeping here?” He walks towards you, only to see your eyes are still closed in deep slumber. “You should be asleep on the bed...” He mumbles as he caresses your cheek with his thumb as gently as he can since he's afraid he'll wake you up. “Did I come home too late?” He asks himself quietly, not quite keeping up with the time. “Did you overwork yourself alone?” He then asks your sleeping body as he checks for any signs of fatigue. He'll join you to sleep after adjusting your position and blanket, making sure you're as comfortable as you can on the couch.
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I shall write for all (for satisfication purposes) 🫡
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lowkeyremi · 9 months
Text
jjk men and aftercare ft. Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Toji, and Geto.
a/n: I saw something like this awhile ago and forgot to write abt it but here I am now babyyyy. also not proofread bc im tired :P
cw: really suggestive, established relationships, how they are after sex basically :)
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Gojo Satoru
When you two first started hitting third base Gojo was all about himself and about how he felt. When you had cleaned yourself up and prepared for bed that night Satoru finally realized something was wrong.
"What's wrong, babe? I thought you liked it??" He asks, worried about his performance in bed. Your silence prompts him to try and figure out what he had done wrong, and honestly he couldn't even think of anything.
"Pleaseeee tell me. I won't know if you don't say anything." Those invasive thoughts that tell you, "you don't matter to him." start to attack your brain once again. He's way out of your league you start to think.
"Aftercare. You didn't even offer to help me clean up, Satoru." Saying it out loud makes you sound kind of petty in your opinion but it does matter.
"OH. Shit baby I'm so so so so sorry!!!!! I- It's just-" He cuts himself off and tries to reword his sentence, "Well, back then I.. I was sleeping around so my pleasure was the only thing that mattered to me. It's different.. you know? Dating. I'm still working out everything. I won't forget next time I promise."
He'd been telling the truth because from then on he always went all out with aftercare. He would run you a bath with your favorite salts and oils, he'd make you your favorite snacks, he'd even cuddle you afterwards until you fell asleep. (rich boyfriend privileges)
Choso Kamo
He'd been waiting so long to finally sleep with you for the first time so he had done all his research prior to the day. He was looking at your dilated pupils, messy hair, and the cum that sat on your stomach.
"Okay so, according to the article I read, I should run you a hot bath, yeah?" He asks nervously.
A small smile braces your lips. In all honesty you probably should have expected this much from Choso. He wants to make sure everything is perfect.
"You looked up aftercare???" You sit up on the bed and a back cramp decides to hit right then and there. As soon as he hears your groan he sprints the the kitchen, only to return with a heat pad.
"Heat pad for cramps?" He's truly nervous, and eager to please you, the love of his life.
"Thank you, Cho. I'll take you up on that bath."
"Of course, I'll get in with you if that's okay." The smile on your face is enough of an answer.
Nanami Kento
YOU ARE WINNING!!!!
Massages, baths, homemade snacks, you name and he'll do it for you. In his mind it's the least he can do for you, because you treat him so well and give him that pretty pussy he loves so much.
"Right here?" He's currently working those skilled fingers into your tight muscles after bending you every which way.
"Ohhh... yes right there, baby. Hurts so muchhhh." You whine and moan at the same time. At this point you two have already bathed and he's made sure to moisturize your body leaving you clean and refreshed.
He seemed to notice the way you limped and asked if you need anything. The sex was good really, but you didn't want to tell him that folding you in half wasn't the best idea. Oh, but he's persistent would not leave you alone until you told him what was wrong.
Once you told him he had immediately sat you down, picked up your favorite lotion and started to work out the kinks in your body.
"I'm so sorry, again." He mumbles quietly.
"Stop apologizing, Kento. These things happen. At least I know to stretch before hand next time." His face softens at your giggles and he presses a small kiss to your thigh.
"Oh do not get me started." A smile creeps up his face, while blush slowly spreads across yours.
Toji Fushiguro
BOOOOOO no aftercare. well maybe not much at least.
Has not properly cared for a woman since his late wife but he realizes if he wants you to stay he'll have to fix that.
At first he would throw a wet rag at you and give a simple, "here clean up." When he got out the shower he was genuinely confused why you were no longer at his apartment.
As soon as you picked up he could tell you were pissed, "What do you want, Fushiguro."
He's a little shocked, did not expect that from you, "I'm your boyfriend so it's Toji and not Fushiguro. The hell is your problem??"
The silence is so loud. For a second he thought you'd hung up on him. "Hello??"
"I'm giving you some time to think about that dumbass question and figure out why I'm mad at you." He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes too. He's lucky you can't see it.
"Ugh, I don't have time to play the damn guessing game. You're always mad about the little things.. what is it?" He's running through anything he could have possibly done wrong recently.
"Toji, you threw a fucking wet washcloth at me and told me to clean myself up. I'm your girlfriend, not one of your one night stands!" There it is, and the bad part is he doesn't even see what's wrong with that. (at first)
"I don't even give them something to clean up with, I just leave. But damn if you want me to get all fancy and shit I'll try." He scratches his head and begins to wonder why women are so hard to please.
Let me tell you he's no Nanami, but it's getting better. Still falls asleep afterward most times tho :/
Geto Suguru
You do it yourself for the most part, and here's why.
He's over here washing you up in the tub and he can't stop staring at your soapy titties and it just leads to more sex.
It's never just aftercare with him. He's always chasing more. Like that time you asked him to massage your legs after you two had finished fucking in the tub.
"Yeah shit why not? Lotion or oil??" He asks looking through your products.
"Uhhh lotion's fine." You'd grabbed your phone to see if your mother left you a voicemail which she did. She talked about how you need to pick up the phone or at least text her your alive if you're not gonna pick up. You were NOT going to pick up earlier though. Suguru likes to tease and you learned that the hard way when he was eating you out while you were discussing group bonding dinner ideas with your boss over the phone.
Anyway, he made his way to the bed with your lotion and all things went to hell. It was slow at first, nothing too sensual, then of course he had to slip a finger in your pussy and you sat there and stared.
"We are not doing this, we just got out of the bath." You were so serious, but so was he. (you were also aroused so)
"Another bath never hurt anybody, 'fraid of a little water baby??"
(such an annoying whore)
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barcaatthemoon · 21 days
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glass || alexia putellas x reader ||
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you and alexia get tired of having to be so careful around each other.
alexia knew that there was a lot mentally that went into having a partner like you. she had been your friend for years before the two of you made the decision to start a romantic relationship. you had always been a very emotional person, taking everything to heart even if it wasn't personal. alexia understood that there was a certain tact that had to be used whenever you hit a depressive episode.
for the most part, alexia had mastered how to take care of you when things got bad. she would have walked away from football completely for you, and almost had before. she had taken little breaks, only as much time as you'd allow her. now though, she was torn between doing what you wanted and what she felt was right.
everything that you were going through, alexia went through with you. if you were suffering in silence, then she sat there trying to figure out how to help you. you wanted her to move on, but she couldn't go forward without making sure that you were following her. it had caused quite a few fights, and was why alexia was currently losing her mind at her sister's while she waited for you to text her.
"alexia, you're going to pace a hole right through the floor," alba said, hopeful that her words would distract alexia a bit. "if you are so worried about (y/n), why don't you just go over there? it's your house too."
"she asked for some space, alba. i don't want to crowd her," alexia said. it was very decisive, and alba wished that alexia would have stuck with it. instead, the woman was up and pacing around again before she finally stormed off to get you. alba hadn't been a fan of having alexia there instead of with you, but you had actually asked for alexia to leave for the night. in alexia's mind, now that it was morning, she was free to come check on you.
it wasn't that alexia didn't trust you because there was nobody else in the world that she trusted more. alexia was just scared that you'd get reckless. most of the time when you hurt yourself, it was an accident. it was when you threw caution to the wind that alexia truly got scared.
"(y/n)? it's me, alexia. i'm here to get some things and see how you're doing!" alexia called out into the apartment. you smiled a little to yourself as you walked out of the kitchen. alexia's face dropped as she saw you holding a kitchen towel over your hand. "what happened?"
"it's fine, i was just trying to make something for breakfast. i was going to call you over, but i was never good at cutting the meat." you were far more relaxed about this than alexia was. she rushed over to inspect your cut as it flowed blood into the towel.
"i can't leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can i?" alexia sounded angry. every movement she made was overly aggressive as she dragged you to the bathroom to clean you up.
"alexia, i can take care of myself," you tried to tell her. you tried to break away from her, which snapped alexia out of whatever little mood she had been in. "it's fine. i mean, i'm fine, so it's okay. it was an accident, you'd know that if you had let me get a word in."
"it's not just this, but i am sorry. i reacted badly," alexia apologized. she leaned back against the sink as she watched you wrap your hand. "we should go to the hospital for that."
"it's just a cut. you opened it when you grabbed my wrist like that, give it a moment and it'll stop," you told her. alexia sighed as she tried to move towards you. you flinched away, and alexia swore that she felt her heart shatter in her chest. "i'm going to clean up in the kitchen. i'm not very hungry anymore."
"no, (y/n) wait! go in the living room, i'll make us breakfast," alexia offered. you wanted to just crawl into bed and forget about the world until training, but alexia wouldn't let that happen. you walked past her wordlessly and settled on the couch, watching from there as alexia moved around the kitchen to finish breakfast. it was pretty obvious to her what you had started, so with a bit of difficulty, alexia finished.
"it looks good, you didn't burn the eggs this time," you complimented. alexia turned slightly, just enough to hide her plate from you. truthfully, you could smell the bit of egg that had definitely burnt, but you didn't want to pick any fights with alexia. you didn't have the energy to argue anymore.
"i'm sorry that i got angry earlier. i want you to know that i wasn't mad at you, i was just scared. alba told me not to stay the night, that i should march my sorry ass back here and just stay in my office. i only came back here because i was scared when you hadn't said good morning. i tried to do things right by you, but instead, i fucked up. i'm mad at myself," alexia explained.
"i'm mad that you don't trust me anymore. maybe you never did, but you were better at hiding it then. now, it's like we're both trying to dance with broken glass all over the floor. you're graceful and agile, but i keep stomping on the pieces and making it worse."
"then let's be up front about it. we'll stop pretending that the glass isn't there. i get scared when you stop caring because what if something happens and you don't try to stop it? you could leave without me, but i couldn't live with myself if something happened to you." you glanced over at alexia, who was fully crying now. there had once been a time when you'd have burst into sympathetic tears, but now all you felt was guilt. you felt awful about yourself for scaring her like this, even if none of it was on purpose. "talk to me, please."
"i'll be more careful. it's not for myself right now, it's for you, but that's one hell of a reason to take care of myself. i'll go through the proper steps to try and get better. it's not fair after i've been like this to just ask you to trust me when i wouldn't trust myself. i made this mess, and i'm happy that you aren't going to make me clean it up by myself."
"thank you," alexia mumbled as she leaned over to press a kiss to the side of your forehead. you settled back against the couch with one of her arms around your shoulders. alexia picked at her plate until you gave her half of yours and put in an order for delivery.
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spider-ghoul · 1 month
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Babysitting <3
Percy Jackson X gn!reader (fluff)
In which: a call from Sally Jackson leads you to help with her youngest, and spend the night with her eldest son. Lingering glances and sleepy confessions only to be forgotten by morning.
Warnings: Reader is mentioned to be smaller than Percy once, kissing, none I can think of but as always lmk if there's anything!!
this might be complete shit lmao I finished this at like 3:00 am last night but I wanted to get something out to feed the beasts of this website
~~𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧~~
At six o'clock on a Friday, normally I'd be rotting in my bed after the week of school. And that was the plan, until Mrs. Jackson mom called.
"Oh- (y/n) I'm so sorry for asking but do you think you could watch Estelle tonight? Me and Paul had a date but Percy was going to the movies with Grover tonight and we-"
"Mrs. Jackson, yeah, it's fine. When do I need to be over?"
"Six is when we're leaving."
"I'll be there at five fifty."
"You're a savior."
This was perfectly fine. Me and Percy were friends and i was the only half-blood who lived around here. I watched Estelle a few times before too. No biggie. Except for the fact I'd been in love with Percy Jackson for...a while.
I mean, he was  kinda my friend. But god, he was Percy Jackson.
At five forty, i headed out. I grabbed my backpack, making sure i had the baby sitting essentials for any four year old: nail polish, beads, and my old rainbow loom (i also spent a extra minute making sure my hair looked okay so that if i saw a certain older brother) I figured that and the t.v. would be more than enough to keep us occupied till her bedtime at eight.
I got there right on time (surprisingly), and Sally greeted me with another thank you. She tried to hand over a few bucks cash, but i pushed her hand away.
She rushed out of the door with Paul after a few more (failed) attempts of paying me, leaving me with an excited two four old. And before too long, she had me watching Bluey (Though i do thoroughly enjoy that show), and making bracelets for us.
She watched as i showed her how to bead the string and make sure the letter beads where on the right way, and then she helped me choose colors.
To start i made one with her name in purple and white. She giggled and slide it on her wrist. I started working on a second one, and she told me to tie hers. It was all blue and had me spell out 'Percy' with beads for her.
"Is this for your brother?" She nodded excitedly, "well, we'll give it to him when he get here, okay?"
I got a solid hour with the beads before she got bored, and by the end both of our wrists had a fair share of bracelets littering them, and a small pile of three bracelets for Percy.
I seriously hope she's awake when he gets here, I can imagine the teasing that would come with handing him bracelets and saying, "oh yeah sorry I'm at your house haha baby sitting- oh me and your sister made you bracelets-". Or i could imagine our hands touching causing me to panic. I could imagine a million things actually.
I think this whole crush is really getting out of hand, especially with me becoming his mom's go to sitter now a days.
Estelle broke me from my thoughts with requests to watch 'Nemo', her favorite. We've watched it every time I've babysat. Part of me wonders if Percy likes it too, I mean with the whole sea god thing. 
As for her request, I made a bag of microwave popcorn and set her down in front of the TV.
I vaguely remember the opening, and Estelle fell asleep next to me before i dozed off myself.
I woke up a bit later, maybe half an hour? The movie wasn't finished, but Estelle was already fast asleep. I took the liberty of scooping her up and placing her in her own bed before going to clean up the main room.
It wasn't bad, just putting away my beads, and getting the popcorn bowl out of the way. I was tired enough, school was rough this week. I just planted myself back on the couch, finding Nemo not quite finished as I did.
I'm not quite sure when i feel back asleep, just that i did.
I'm also not quite sure when Percy Jackson sat down next to me, but he did.
I woke up, curled around a throw pillow, the end credits were playing. I rolled onto my back, and that's when I saw him.
Maybe i was too tired, or maybe he was just smiling, but i didn't feel all that anxious. At least not like i normally do around the son of the sea god.
"Do you always fall asleep to Nemo or is this a special occasion?"
"Do you always watch me sleep or is this a special occasion...?"
He laughed and my heart fluttered.
"Uhm, sorry your mom had me come over to babysit, I didn't know you'd be home yet." I say awkwardly smiley as i sit up, yawning. 
"It's fine, y/n. She texted me, sorry to have you waste a Friday."
"Oh its fine, better than doing nothing. Your sis was an angel, like always." I say, shifting, my shirt bunched up around my waist while I was sleeping. I was also pretty positive my hair was a mess. 
"Oh and speaking of my mom- before i forget." He pulled out a twenty, "now I figure you aren't gonna want to take it, but it's sally's orders."
"I'd feel bad, its just a favor. Your mom is always so nice, she patched me up after a monster attack once, this is just me repaying her."
"She did? When?" His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes filled with concern.
And i felt my face getting hot again.
"A few weeks ago, your house was closer than mine, it's fine." I mutter, looking down. 
He sighed, "what happened?" he said, reaching out to put his hand over mine. I short wire for a moment, looking back up at him. 
"Just something on my way home from school, it wasn't bad."
After a brief moment of silence, i wanted to crawl out of my skin.
He sighed, "as long as you're fine." he lifted his hand off of mine, though I could still feel his warmth. 
I smiled weakly, "oh uh..what time is it?" 
"Uh.. ten-ish?"
"I should be getting home." I say, sighing turning away from him. 
"It's pretty late, I wouldn't want you to walk back alone."
"It's not far-"
"I'm sure my mom would say the same thing, you know."
I sighed, knowing he was right, "i don't want to intrude." 
"Neither me or Sally would care."
"...."
"...can i bribe you to stay with waffles?"
"...yeah you can." I sigh, any of Sally's food was enough to make me do just about anything. 
Percy smiled, making my heart melt.
"Great, it'll be like a sleepover. Do you need to borrow a shirt or something?"
"Yeah, that uhm- that would be great." I mutter, pushing myself up off the couch. My neck was sore, who would have guessed that a throw pillow wasn't great for sleeping? I stretch my arms out over my head, yawning again. 
"tired?" He chuckles, raising his eyebrow. 
"well you did just wake me up-" I resort, rolling my eyes. I always forget how nice Percy is. I always worry about stupid things, but when I'm with him none of it really matters.
"You woke up on your own- I was simply..." He trails off, and I laugh:
"Watching me sleep?" 
"What can I say? You looked so.. pretty." He look down at me, and I could swear my heart stops, but I don't look away.
"...Yeah, whatever." I mummer quietly,  staring into his eyes and blinking a few times before finally breaking eye contact.
After a short moment, He mumbles something about getting me to bed. I nod quickly, following him to his room, which is surprisingly clean. He digs though his dresser drawers for a moment, pulling out some old band tee, and blue plaid pants. He hands them to me. 
"Is this fine for you? might be a big big, just let me know-" 
"it's fine. No worries." I say quickly, taking them, making sure to avoid his hands. "Thanks." 
He smiles again, and I leave for the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears. 'pretty'? it's nothing, Percy is just nice like that. 
I change into his clothes, the smell of ocean engulfing me as the soft fabric hangs from my body.  I can't help but to push my head into my shoulder. It smells like him. 
I ball up my jeans and tee shirt, shoving them into my backpack. I slipped out the bathroom once I calmed myself down enough to talk to him again. 
I walk up to Percy's door, "Hey, I'm gonna go lay down do you have a blanket or something I can use..?" 
His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me from where he was laying on his bed, "You don't seriously think I'm making you sleep on the couch-?" 
"Well I kinda assumed..?" 
"Get over here you dork." He said, scooting over on his bed, "Plenty of room- you don't mind, do you?" 
Part of me lit on fire, and part of me was desperate to put it out. My ears got hot, but I managed to nod.
"No, I don't mind.." 
I place my bag on the floor by the door, walking up and sitting on his bed, sliding my legs under the covers and sliding down to lay next to him. I was stiff, worried to so much as touch him. But eventually, I relaxed, turning to lay on my side, facing him. 
I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, my body already starting to sink into his bed, ready to get a proper night's sleep. My eyelids slowly drifted shut. 
I was woken when Percy broke the silence. 
"Y/N?" Percy whispered, almost silent. 
"Mhm..?" I mumbled back, not bothering to open my eyes. 
"I really like you, you know that?" 
If I wasn't half asleep, maybe I would have said something different. If I had the energy maybe I would have been flustered. 
"... I really like you too." 
I only heard him chuckle before he placed a hand on my hip. 
"Get some sleep, yeah? I'll confess my undying love when you'll properly Remember it." 
I must have frowned, because he laughed lightly and pulled me a little closer. 
It didn't matter though. I slipped back to sleep, and when I woke up I didn't  remember. 
I remembered waking up some point in the night, but I didn't know what was said. 
And in the morning, I got the promised waffles and left the Jackson's apartment. 
The ever chivalrous Percy Jackson (who I woke up cuddling with), offered to walk me home. 
We took the long way, and when we reached my door step, he pressed his lips to mine and told me he couldn't wait for me to babysit again, though he wouldn't mind me coming around before then. 
He left me breathless and giddy, and so so happy to have accepted Sally's offer.
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nerdyjournals · 6 months
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Thank you for your request! Other than the little mishap, this was a fun one to do! You really had me thinking over what each one would get upset over, so hopefully they all fit!
Bang Chan
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You could feel his eyes bore through you as Chan stared at you through the glass in the hospital door. He looked frazzled. Hair a mess, the bags under his eyes even worse than before.
He stepped in and you watched all the air escape him as he took in your bandaged wrist.
"And what have we learned?" He said, voice soft but stern.
"To wait until help arrives and to not be a stubborn and impatient baby," you whined as he lifted up your hand. "They said it'll be a week or so before I can lift anything."
"Do you see why I was so insistent that you wait?" You nodded. "Plus I have seven able body movers who were ready to help us later tonight after rehearsals."
You whispered another apology as he took you into his arms and held you tight.
"I'm just glad you're okay and it was nothing major."
Lee Know
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You felt yourself wince as you stepped over the threshold of your apartment. You had been hoping to do some spring cleaning before Minho got home so he could just rest.
He had told you to do it in stages so you wouldn't overwork and hurt yourself, but what do you do? You overwork and hurt yourself.
Now you softly flinch as you spot him sitting in an armchair that you swear was never positioned in the middle of the hallway.
"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" You scratched the back of your head nervously.
"Big time." Minho stood from the chair and walked over. "You know I tell you not to do things because I care about you, right?" You nod. "So why go against me?"
"I wanted you to have a nice place to rest since you've been working so hard, but I just screwed up again." He pulled you into a soft hug, silently trying to find where you were hurt. "You're not even supposed to be home early. Why are you here?"
"You always send me a photo of your food before my lunch break if you're home, and I know for a fact that you have today off."
"You were worried?"
"Don't tell the media. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know."
Okay, the laugh hurt a little bit.
Changbin
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The front door opened and closed without Changbin's usual fanfare. Yup, you were in trouble.
His figure came around the corner with a small pharmacy bag and two cups of boba. Okay, so he wasn't that mad....yet.
"Are you okay?" Those words shocked you, having been ready for his beratement or something along those lines.
"I'm okay. A little sore, but okay." He walked over and handed you the drink and bag. "I thought you said you'll be late tonight."
"And I knew that if I didn't come home at my earliest convenience, you'd try something stupid again." You pouted as both of you knew he was right. "I know you want our first place to be perfect, but we have all the time in the world to decorate."
"I work from home, Bin. I need something to do other than watching a computer screen for eight hours."
"Then bring your laptop with you and visit the studio. The guys won't mind. They love you."
"Are you sure I won't be distracting?"
"Never. If anything, you might get annoyed with Jisung's antics."
"I'll take that risk."
Hyunjin
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The sound of feet rushing against the tile of your apartment floor brought you back to reality. Your little perch on the balcony slightly helped alleviate your headache.
Hyunjin stood there with a small pharmacy bag and a hand fan.
"Are you okay? Any breakouts or irritation?" He asked, worry filling his voice with each word.
"No. I got out quickly enough." You said, obviously tired. He switched on the hand fan and placed it yours as he set the bag aside. "I'm sorry."
"What were you doing in there anyway?"
"I wanted to clean up a bit. You were really stressed about it."
"I'd rather have a messy studio than have you in the hospital." His gaze drifted from you to the view. "Fresh air help?"
"Not as much as you."
Han
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Hearing footsteps approach, you quickly tried to get off the floor but to no avail.
"Aish..." Han's soft curse came from the doorway. "Didn't I tell you to wait for me before trying to unpack?"
The two of you had moved in together recently and your stuff was the last to unpack and also the heaviest.
"Did you finish your book already?" He asked as the two of you began to pick up the fallen novels. He could see your face scrunch at all the bent pages and covers.
"I thought the next one was in the stack of opened boxes. I just wanted to start and not have to bug you for something so small."
"You enjoy reading, yeah?" You slowly nodded. "Then it's not so small. I think it's small when I interrupt your reading for a thirty second clip opinion."
You nodded and placed another book back in the box as he tilted your chin over to look him in the eyes.
"If any of your books got ruined, they're replaceable. You know what's not? You. So ask me next time, okay?"
Felix
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It was a little embarrassing to have Felix walk in and see you with your hand submerged in a bowl of water.
"I thought I told you to do an ice shower," he sighed as he placed the bag in the table.
"Why would I need to shower for just my hand?" You slowly lifted out of the water and showed off the damage. "How bad?"
"Well, it's not blistering so that's good." Felix grabbed the kitchen towel to dry pat your hand. "What were you doing anyway?"
"Taking cookies out of the oven." You pointed over to where a batch of cookies still sat on the baking sheet. "I couldn't find the mitts so i used the rubber ones, but the back of my hand touched the metal."
"You're very brave to even keep them on the tray while in pain." He put the cream on and began to wrap it. "You're not allowed to bake without me here anymore, okay? At least, not until this heals."
"Oh no. I have to spend more quality time with my boyfriend. Whatever shall I do?" The sarcasm dripped from your words, making him smile and press against the injury.
"Don't make me regret it."
Seungmin
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His steps were frantic as he unlocked the apartment door. Part of him was thankful they had chosen to put security cameras in the house, but the other part cursed him cause it forced him to watch his partner take a nasty fall.
"Y/N?" He didn't raise his voice, knowing that you might have a bad headache.
Your hand peeked out from behind the kitchen island and he rushed over. He found you leaned against the cabinet with an ice pack against the back of your head.
"Hey," he whispered, "1 to 10?" You held up four fingers then four more. "Can you stand?" You signed out the sign for 'no.' "Can I carry you? I got the car running outside." You signed 'yes.' "Talking hurts?" You signed 'yes' again as he carefully lifted you into his arms.
You signed 'sorry' as you made it to the car.
"Why are you apologizing? It was an accident and the guys understand that." He gently placed you in the passenger seat. "They will want an update once you're all clear, okay?"
You signed 'okay.'
I.N
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Something was off. You had been avoiding his hand ever since he got home. Normally Jeongin won't mind, but you won't even hold it in front of you.
"You tried to hook up the gundam already, didn't you?" He said as he watched you freeze. "Show me the damage."
You slowly held your hand out, placing it softly in his. Small bandages say on a few knuckles while little red dots covered your palm.
"You tried to solder the wires without knowing how to use the tool, didn't you?" You tried to take your hand back but failed. "I told you to wait for me."
"But I wanted it done so that I could show it to you when you got home. Now it's just sitting there, taunting me."
"What's more fun? Building together or building alone?"
"Together." You sounded so shy.
"Then let's have dinner and we'll finish your project together." You nodded. "And then I yell at my brother to never give you a complicated set again."
"JEONGIN."
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contact-guy · 7 days
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God I just love that in The Dying Detective you made it so Sherlock is struggling to convince Watson he's sick. Watson knows him so well at this point. It huuuurrtttsssss (positive)
THANK YOUUU I wanna talk about this because it ties into why I love comics so much, and why I love adapting prose into comics. It's a pretty well known idea that part of the job as a cartoonist is to be the 'actor' for your characters - to try and inhabit their heads, figure out their body language, make their expressions with your own face as you're drawing them, etc.
This brings a certain level of intuition into comic drawing that I find really magical. Sometimes I'll have something written (for original work) or there will be something in the text (for adapted work) but when it comes time to draw it, I just...can't get the character to do it. None of my drawings make sense or feel authentic. It feels like they've turned from 'real' people into flat paper dolls. I've been doing this long enough that I've learned when that happens, it means something in the text needs to change.
For Dying Detective, I started sketching it as a direct translation of the book, but something weird happened as I went:
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I found I kept cropping out Watson's face. Maybe it was just that I'd drawn sad Watson too much recently and I was tired of it. But I couldn't figure out how to draw him reacting to Holmes being sick with genuine distress, the way he does in the book - not within the altered narrative I'm telling with the Sketchbook. They've known each other too long, they're in too tense of a place in their relationship, and Watson is too familiar with Holmes's tendency to make a scene.
So to experiment, I drew him looking skeptical instead.
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And THAT was fun and easy, which meant it was the right direction to go. It also made the scene go from feeling like a single, sustained note of distress, to an unspoken power struggle, where the characters end in a different place from when they begin. For this specific adaptation, it was a good change to make - and it was something I only discovered through the art. All this to say that I love comics always and forever!!!
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lecsainz · 8 months
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˒ ⌕ CUTE MOMENTS
summary: some cute moments if you were dating one of the characters from the riordanverse.
an: my inspiration is running low 😭
( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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˒ ⌕ CLARISSE LA RUE
Clarisse returned to her cabin after a day of training, only to find you cozily wrapped up in her oversized hoodie. The sight made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, that's my hoodie," she grinned, a playful glint in her eyes.
You looked up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you don't mind. It's just so comfy."
Clarisse chuckled, walking over to you. "Nah, looks better on you anyway." She slid her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not like I mind sharing with my girl."
You blushed at the affectionate words, leaning into her embrace. "You're the best, Clarisse."
"Damn right, I am," she teased, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "But you make my hoodie look even better. Maybe I should let you borrow it more often."
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˒ ⌕ PERCY JACKSON
Percy returned to his cabin, tired after a day of training and quests. As he entered, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on his bed. It took a moment for him to register, and when he did, a surprised smile crept onto his face.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" he whispered, not wanting to wake you.
You stirred, blinking sleepily at him. "Hey, Percy. I...uh, might have dozed off waiting for you."
He chuckled, finding your presence more delightful than any surprise. "You're adorable when you're asleep, you know that?"
You blushed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Sorry for intruding. I'll go back to my cabin."
Percy shook his head, moving closer. "No way. You're staying right here." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back onto the bed. "This is the best surprise ever. I wouldn't want to come back to an empty cabin anyway."
You snuggled into his embrace, feeling completely at ease. "I might have left a surprise for you too."
Percy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that?"
With a sly smile, you pulled out a small bag of blue cookies. "Blue chocolate chip cookies. A little something I whipped up for you."
Percy's eyes lit up, and he grabbed one eagerly. "I love you, you know that?"
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and Percy's laughter filled the room. He placed a gentle kiss on your blushing cheek.
"I love your cookies and you," he teased, his expression softening. "I mean it, Y/N."
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you replied with a shy smile, "I love you too, Percy."
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˒ ⌕ LEO VALDEZ
Leo couldn't help but grin as you fussed over a small scrape on his arm, your eyes filled with concern.
"Hey, Sunshine, what's with the worried face?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
You sighed, "Leo, you need to take better care of yourself. You're always getting hurt."
"Ah, it's just a little scratch. I'm practically fireproof, babe," he teased.
You rolled your eyes, but your concern persisted. "Seriously, Leo, let me help. I don't want you getting hurt all the time."
Leo's expression softened as he looked into your eyes. "Alright, alright, Nurse Y/N, do your thing."
As you rummaged through a first aid kit, Leo couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked, completely absorbed in caring for him. The thought crossed his mind – he was the luckiest demigod in camp.
When you returned with antiseptic and a bandage, Leo flashed a sly smile. "Does this mean I get a kiss for being a good patient?"
You blushed, trying to hide a smile, and replied, "Leo Valdez, you're impossible."
He winked, "But you love it."
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˒ ⌕ LUKE CASTELLAN
As moonlight spilled across the camp, you emerged from your cabin, a sheepish expression on your face. Luke, who was sitting by the fire, noticed your arrival.
"Hey, couldn't sleep again?" he asked, sensing your restlessness.
You nodded, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, I thought... maybe I could sleep with you tonight? If that's okay."
Luke's eyes lit up, and he patted the space beside him. "Of course, come here."
You settled beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of Luke. As you nestled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.
"Much better?" Luke inquired, his voice filled with tenderness.
You nodded, appreciating the security of his embrace. "Thanks for always being here, Luke."
He smiled down at you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I love having you in my arms."
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˒ ⌕ ANNABETH CHASE
You were quietly sketching in your notebook, capturing the essence of Annabeth's features with each stroke of your pencil. Lost in the moment, you didn't notice her approaching until she peeked over your shoulder.
"You drawing something interesting?" Annabeth inquired, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
You looked up, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you replied cryptically, revealing the sketch of Annabeth you had been working on.
Annabeth's eyes widened as she saw herself on paper. "You... you drew me?" she asked, a hint of surprise and shyness in her voice.
You looked up, a warm smile on your face. "Guilty as charged. Couldn't resist capturing your beauty on paper."
She blushed, clearly not accustomed to being the subject of someone's artistic attention. "I didn't know you could draw so well."
Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Wise Girl."
Her blush deepened, but she couldn't hide the small smile that played on her lips. "Well, keep drawing, then," she said, feigning nonchalance.
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˒ ⌕ JASON GRACE
You sat in front of your vanity, engrossed in the process of applying makeup. The soft hum of a song played in the background as you carefully blended shades on your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you, Jason lay comfortably on your bed, observing your every move.
"Wow, you really know what you're doing with that stuff," he remarked, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips.
You turned to see him lounging there, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm just experimenting. What do you think?"
Jason propped himself up on his elbows. "You don't need any of that to look amazing, you know?"
You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks at his sweet comment. "You're biased."
He chuckled, getting up and walking over to you. "Maybe a little, but you're beautiful with or without makeup."
With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. "I'm the luckiest guy to have you," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss that lingered, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling.
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