#and I had to work the entire day unable to even got to the toilet and there’s no mirrors anywhere and I was just paranoid for 9 hrs

[rowanhoney]

Mixed Day hmmm

[perfectsunlight]

[09] TEDDY

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, anxiety

2013

jennie kim hated being sick. everything about it was a reminder of her vulnerability, something she wasn't accustomed to feeling. as a trainee, she was used to maintaining a strong front, always pushing through the pain and fatigue. she was used to it but this time, it was different. 

something didn’t feel right. this was a different kind of sickness.

the hours dragged on, and jennie found herself unable to sleep. the nausea was relentless, waves of it rolling over her, making it impossible to get comfortable. she tossed and turned, her mind racing with worry and uncertainty.

when the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, jennie felt a surge of desperation. she needed to know what was wrong with her. gathering all the strength she could muster, she got up and made her way to the bathroom, hoping to splash some cold water on her face and feel a little better. but as she stood in front of the mirror, another wave of nausea hit her hard. she barely made it to the toilet before she started vomiting, her body heaving violently.

after what felt like an eternity, jennie slumped against the bathroom wall, her forehead slick with sweat. she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her body trembling from the effort. this wasn’t normal. something was seriously wrong.

despite her exhaustion, she forced herself to get ready for the day. she had a recording session with teddy, and she couldn’t afford to miss it. monthly evaluations were coming up, and jennie knew how crucial it was to stay on top of her game.

she dressed quickly and made her way to the studio, each step feeling like a monumental effort. when she arrived, teddy immediately noticed something was off. “jennie, you look really pale,” he said, concern etched in his voice.

the young woman managed a weak smile. “i’m fine. just a bit under the weather.” truth be told, she felt worse than she had the entire week, but she knew that she couldn’t jeopardize everything she had worked so hard for.

as they started recording, jennie found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. her head throbbed, and she felt dizzy. after a few takes, she had to stop. the room seemed to sway around her, and she clutched onto the music stand while riding out the wave of nausea.

“teddy, can we take a break?” she asked, her voice strained. the mentioned man looked up from his screen to see jennie rubbing her head, her face pale as ivory and looking a bit withdrawn. he stood from his seat and motioned for her to step out of the booth.

 “of course. come sit down,” he said, his voice filled with concern. jennie followed him out of the recording studio, her steps slow and unsteady. she took a seat on the nearby sofa, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. the producer handed her a bottle of water, which she took gratefully, though her hands trembled slightly.

“you don’t look too good,” teddy remarked, worry etched across his face. “what’s going on?”

she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “i’ve just been feeling so off. i’m tired all the time, my head keeps throbbing, and i can’t seem to keep anything down. i thought it was just stress, but it’s not getting any better.”

his brow furrowed. he had seen his fair share of sick trainees, but even he knew this was nothing like he had ever seen before. “have you seen a doctor?” he asked while kneeling down in front of her.

jennie shook her head. “no, i haven’t had the time. but it’s getting to the point where i can’t ignore it anymore.”

silence filled the empty space between the two before park teddy spoke again. “do you need me to get you anything?” he asked while glancing at the time on his watch. the young woman shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “no, i think i just need to rest for a bit,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

as the young woman sat there, the room felt really hot. jennie wiped the sweat from her forehead, her body feeling like it was on fire. she took deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but the heat only seemed to intensify. teddy noticed her discomfort and continued to frown with concern.

“hey, you don't look well at all. are you sure there's nothing else going on?” he asked gently, his eyes scanning her ivory face. he was growing more concerned with the way she was acting.

the young woamn hesitated, the words stuck in her throat. she felt another wave of dizziness and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes to steady herself. teddy's worried expression deepened, and he finally spoke the question that had been on his mind. 

“jennie, do you think you might be pregnant?”

her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him in fear. the possibility had crossed her mind in fleeting moments, but she had been too afraid to confront it. now, with the question being spoken out loud, she felt a rush of emotions she couldn't ignore.

“i don't know. i haven't even thought about it seriously,” she admitted, her voice trembling. she knew it was a possibility, but she didn’t think it was something that could happen to her. she was careful, she was always careful. 

he stood up, his expression serious. “do you want to find out. there's a pharmacy nearby. i can get a test and you can take it here.” 

jennie swallowed hard, her mind racing. she felt a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest but knew she needed to know. teddy could tell the young woman was anxious, but he knew that he’d never do anything to betray her trust. he saw her as a younger sister, almost a daughter figure. 

he just wanted jennie to be okay, no matter what happened.

“don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone.” he whispered, as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, trying to convey his support without words. 

the brunette nodded, cat-like eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and fear. “thank you, teddy,” she managed to say, her voice quivering slightly. she felt a wave of relief knowing she had a trusted ally in this moment of vulnerability.

teddy gave her a reassuring nod. “i’ll run to the pharmacy and get a test for you. wait here.”

the trainee tried to calm her breathing, feeling the weight of the moment becoming heavier. the studio was silent except for the faint hum of equipment, and her mind was filled with swirling thoughts. she clutched the armrest, trying to steady her breathing.

she coudln’t be pregnant. she was careful, she was always careful.

he was careful.

teddy returned shortly with a small bag, pulling her from her thoughts. “here it is,” he said gently, handing her the pregnancy test. “there’s a bathroom just behind that door. you can use it there.”

jennie took the test from him, her hands shaking slightly. “thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. she made her way to the bathroom, her heart pounding with every step.

inside the small, dimly lit bathroom, jennie closed the door behind her and took a deep breath. she looked at the test in her hands, her mind racing. she had never felt so conflicted and uncertain in her life.

she followed the instructions carefully, her movements precise despite the turmoil she felt inside. as she waited for the results, she sat on the edge of the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. her face looked pale, her eyes tired.

the minutes felt like hours. jennie’s anxiety was palpable as she glanced at the test, then at the clock, then back at the test. every second seemed to stretch on forever.

she wasn’t pregnant. she couldn’t be pregnant. her mind raced through the possibilities, each one more overwhelming than the last. the thought of being pregnant felt like a cruel twist of fate, something that couldn't possibly be true.

her breath came in short, uneven gasps as she tried to grasp the enormity of the situation. the room seemed to spin, and she struggled to keep her thoughts from spiraling out of control. the idea of becoming a mother, of carrying a child, was something she had never truly considered. 

especially not now, not while she was still fighting for her place in the industry.

when the time was up, she shut her eyes tightly and grasped the edges of the test, her knuckles turning white. the seconds ticked by with an excruciating slowness. she could almost hear the rhythmic pulse of her own heartbeat, pounding in her ears. the test felt heavier than it should, a small but potent symbol of her uncertainty and fear.

finally, she took a deep breath and forced herself to look down. the result was clear and undeniable.

positive.

jennie’s heart sank as she saw the result. she sat there for a moment, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, and a strange sense of disbelief.

her hands trembled as she clutched the test, her eyes fixated on the two distinct lines that seemed to mock her. the reality of the situation was hitting her hard, and the weight of it all felt unbearable.

the small bathroom, with its sterile white tiles and bright overhead lights, suddenly felt suffocating. jennie’s breath came in shallow gasps, and the room seemed to spin around her. her carefully constructed facade of strength and composure shattered as the enormity of her predicament settled in.

unable to hold back the surge of emotions any longer, jennie’s tears began to fall. she buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly at first, then with increasing desperation. each sob felt like it was pulled from the depths of her soul, shaking her entire body as she tried to make sense of the overwhelming situation.

teddy, waiting just outside the bathroom door, heard the muffled sounds of her distress and grew more concerned by the second. he knocked softly before entering, his face filled with worry as he saw the young woman sitting on the edge of the sink, tears streaming down her cheeks.

without a word, he approached her and gently wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. naturally, jennie clung to him, his presence offering a small measure of solace amid her turmoil. her sobs grew quieter as she buried her face in his shoulder, feeling a mix of panic and vulnerability.

“i won’t tell anyone.” teddy whispered, reaffirming the fact that he wasn’t going to betray her trust. he rubbed her back gently, letting her cry it out. his eyes briefly glanced at the test before speaking again. 

“does he know?” 

jennie shook her head rapidly, her face buried in her hands. it was all too much to take in, and nothing felt normal anymore. 

“no. i can’t tell him.”

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[babybluebanshee]

Things I've Had to Deal With As a City Librarian - Another Mega Edition

Been a while, huh? There's been a lot of crazy shit going on at work recently, so here I am with another installment of chronicling the madness. Enjoy.

A man came in and asked Rachel for copies of sheet music, and this somehow devolved into him going on a ten minute speech about how he knew God wanted him to become a musician because he had a dream where he was told to play a massive organ. The guy was thoroughly convinced that the dream had been planted in his head by aliens who were working for God, and that he was destined to play the organ he saw in his dream when the world ended. Poor Rachel just stood there, unable to anything other than smile and nod.

A woman wanted to check out books. I asked for her library card. She handed me her civic center card. I told her that that wasn't the correct card. "Yes it is," she replied. I told her no, this was her civic center card. I even handed it back to her. "Why do you have my civic center card?" she asked. Ma'am, this is what you gave me. "Don't you need my library card?" At this point I can't tell if she's being serious or just fucking with me. Eventually she gets me the right card, all the while grumbling about why I took her civic center card and not her library card. If it wasn't for the fact this woman seemed totally lucid up to that point, I would have just assumed she had some form of dementia.

A mom and her little boy came up to check out her book. The little boy had a Hot Wheels car that he was rolling around on the counter, and ended up rolling it towards me. I turned it around and rolled it back to him. He rolled it back. We did this the entire time I was checked out the books, somehow timing it perfectly to scan a book in the time it took him to roll it back to me. His mom watched us the entire time and was clearly tickled by the whole thing.

Someone stuck a wad of chewed gum on the circulation desk, right behind the computer. I just happened to notice it when my pen fell back there and almost landed in it.

A little girl came up to the desk and handed Angie several used needles in a baggie, saying she found it in the parking lot. The mother was more horrified that they found the needles at all than she was by the fact her young daughter was holding the goddamn bag full of them.

We found a grocery bag in the cafe that contained nothing but a pack of toilet paper. No one ever claimed it. We hope that wasn't an emergency purchase that got forgotten.

A family of three - a mom, dad, and an adult son - came in with recording equipment and set up shop in one of our study rooms. They came up to the desk and basically said upfront that they were going to be loud for about two minutes, and that if anyone complained, they were sorry, and they'd be done quickly. There wasn't anyone in the other two study rooms at the time, so we were like yeah, sure, whatever. We still have no idea what they were filming, but they were there for almost four hours. They even brought their own props; at one point, the assistant director walked by and the son was wearing a really ratty blond wig. Another time, I walked by and the dad was wearing a scuba mask. It was one of the oddest things I've ever seen.

One of our long-time patrons came in with her two daughters one day, on the older daughter's birthday. She was wearing a flower crown and it was very, very cute.

A little girl checking out books with her mom kept telling me jokes. I responded with more jokes. Another instance of the mom trying really hard not to crack up.

A girl came up to the desk with a bag of food and a drink, asking if she could eat in on of the study rooms. She knew we generally wanted people to keep food down in the cafe, but there was a guy down there who was making her uncomfortable. I figured it was just a dude being a pervy creep, so I told her to go ahead and went down to check things out. I did indeed find the guy she was talking about, crouched down in a squat on the floor, staring down vacantly. I asked him if he was okay, and he looked up at me sleepily, saying he was fine. I headed back up to the desk, and he followed not to long after. He reached the front door, stopping the table where we have free masks in a basket. I figure he was going to take one and then head, but he just started...slumping forward. I thought he was going to faint or be sick, so I rushed back over and asked if he was okay. He said yeah, he'd just had a "rough morning". After another few minutes, he left. I told the director later and he checked the camera to see if he'd bothered the girl directly, and while he didn't, he had been in that crouching position for almost ten minutes before I went down there. He was sitting so still the cameras didn't detect a human being nearby.

A man came in about ten minutes to closing, went down to the cafe, screamed and cursed down there for a few seconds, then left. Feel your feelings, I guess.

We had a hair salon do some training down in one of our conference rooms for a couple days in a row. Julie was shutting down the cafe for the night and went to check the conference room trash cans. The hair salon had left two entire bags of training heads and a bag of fast food trash. Julie went to throw the fast food trash away, and screamed, because they'd thrown one of the training heads face up in there. I ran down there because I thought she was being fucking murdered, and ended up screaming myself because there's a fucking head looking up at me. As far as I know, the other bags of training heads are still in the workroom, waiting for the salon to come get them.

We have a patron named Reggie who comes in a lot to do two things - check out DVDs and use our computers to watch Hell's Kitchen. And Reggie really likes Hell's Kitchen. He will yell at the computer while he's watching Hell's Kitchen. Shockingly, only one person has ever complained about him before, and they didn't even care about him talking at the screen. They just wanted him to do it more quietly.

[chrisbitchtree]

The Laws of Attraction

My fill for Day 1 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Prompt - SFW - School Project

2k - Rated E

***

“How’s that for chemistry, Harrington?” Billy asked, on the edge of a moan. Steve laughed, grasping Billy tighter and stroking faster, eliciting another deep moan from the blonde. “Too bad we can’t write about this for our paper. I’m sure we’d get an A+.”

***

It had all started when Steve had missed his Intro to Human Sexuality class three weeks before. Steve never gets sick. It’s his thing, and he’s weirdly proud of it. Healthy as a horse, with an immune system so strong that the pediatrician would joke that Steve should be studied by science every time he went in for a checkup. Steve would laugh long after the joke got old so he could always be sure the doctor would offer him his favourite sucker, a blue one, at the end of the appointment, after his reflexes were checked and the ice-cold stethoscope was pressed to his chest.

Being so healthy meant that Steve had to get really good at faking colds and flues so he could stay home and eat soup and crackers and watch either game shows, soap operas, or 80s sitcom reruns, depending on which nanny his parents had employed at the time.

Once Steve had started high school and his parents felt that he was past the point of needing a nanny to care for him while they were away and could always reach him on his cellphone if they needed to anyway, he was able to drop the sick act and just ditch school instead. Nobody was going to go to the trouble of tracking down his parents to bother them with the news that their son wasn’t in class that day.

It had gotten even easier once Steve had gone away to college. He would pick and choose what classes he felt like attending and didn’t need to answer to anyone as long as he kept his grades up.

But of course, the first time in his entire life that Steve was too sick to go to school, struck down by food poisoning from some questionable Chinese leftovers he’d found in the mini fridge he kept next to his dorm room bed and used like a fridge, unable to do anything except either puke or lay on the floor next to the toilet waiting to puke again, shivering, and shaking and wishing he was dead, refusing when his floormates tried to offer help. He just had to puke it out.

Finally, at about 8pm, he was feeling slightly better and like the illness had finally run its course. He dragged himself back to bed and curled up in a ball, picking up his phone from where he’d tossed it in the sheets when he’d run for the bathroom and checking his missed notifications.

He had a couple texts from Robin, updating him on all the Hawkins High gossip he was missing out on, and a whole string of them from Dustin that had gotten increasingly frantic as the day had gone on, but the ones that stood out were from Nancy, who of course had ended up at the same school as him, even sharing some of his classes. They’d talked on occasion since breaking up in the fall of their senior year, but it was usually only if they had something important to tell each other so he clicked on hers first.

Nancy – 11:12am: Steve, are you skipping health class again? I heard what Ms. Johnson said to you the other day about your attendance!

Nancy – 11:22am: Partners are being assigned for the huge project in Human Sexuality today. If you don’t get here soon, you might be stuck with Billy. He’s not here today either.

Nancy – 12:37pm: I’m sorry, Steve, you’re going to have to work with Billy. Your topic is chemistry and attraction.

Steve groaned. Just his luck, the one time he’s actually sick, something like this actually happens. He’d done his best to avoid Hargrove since their big fight at the Byers’ the fall of their senior year of high school, as much as you can avoid someone in a town as small as Hawkins, where there was one high school with one basketball team that they both played on.

He’d counted down the days until he was free and could make a fresh start, only to find out that it wouldn’t just be Nancy at his new school, Billy Hargrove would be there too. And then the first day of Human Sexuality, there were both Billy and Nancy, on opposite sides of the front row.

Steve does his best to pretend that Billy’s not there, tamping down an attraction that’s been there since the moment he laid eyes on the other boy. Billy hadn’t confirmed nor denied his sexual preferences since he’d come crashing into Hawkins with his stepmom and stepsister, Max, to be closer to Max’s grandparents after Billy’s dad had died that summer, but if the rumours were true, Billy happily slept with anything on two legs.

Steve doesn’t judge, has no room to, considering how many girls he’s slept with. But that was before Nancy. Since his time with her, he’s been a relationship guy, someone who wants heavy commitment, and Billy just doesn’t seem like that type of guy, so Steve pushes his feelings down, ignoring them in favour of finding someone he could have a relationship with.

 Now though, Steve had no choice but to spend time with Billy. A lot of it, considering that the project was worth half their grade. And of course, of all the possible topics, they got chemistry.

***

For the first few weeks that they met with each other to work on the project, they kept their conversations strictly school related, at Steve’s behest, both because Steve didn’t want to end up down a road he wasn’t prepared for with Billy, and because success in academics didn’t come easily to Steve like it did to Billy. Steve needed a good grade in this class, so he had to stay focused and work hard.

They divvied up the research, Billy focusing on attraction while Steve worked on compatibility. It was coming along good until they met to discuss their findings and work on their thesis topic. They were in Steve’s dorm room, Steve at his desk, and Billy sprawled out on Steve’s bed.

He had his textbook open and upside down across his stomach and his arms crossed behind his head. His white t-shirt was riding up, exposing a strip of flesh between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, and Steve wanted to pull the shirt up, expose him, lick and kiss and nip his way up to Billy’s mouth, wanted to pull the backwards baseball cap off his head and sink his hands into Billy’s curls.

“Hey, Harrington, have you ever thought about whether we have chemistry?” Billy asked. For all his usual bravado, the question came out of his mouth quietly, as if he wasn’t even sure if he wanted Steve to hear him ask it.

Steve looks up, meeting his eye, and he’s giving Steve a look that’s equal parts considering and wanting, his eyes dark. They travel down the length of Steve’s body and back up again, and Steve can’t remember the last time he felt so seen, so wanted.

“What if I have?” he replies, trying for breezy, and failing miserably. He’s way too into this, and it’s showing all over his face.

“Come over here and tell me what you’ve thought about,” Billy says, sitting up and patting the bed beside him.

Steve closes his laptop and takes the few steps to his small bed. He sits next to Billy, their bodies pressed together from head to toe. Steve rubs his knees nervously, trying to wipe some of the sweat off as he psyches himself up to kiss Billy.

He doesn’t have a chance to before Billy turns to him, slipping a hand into the back of Steve’s hair and cupping the back of his skull. Billy pulls him in for a kiss that’s surprisingly tender, as deep and searching as it is.

They stay like that for a long time, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues, getting familiar with each other in a way Steve’s only previously dreamed of. Finally, they pull back to catch their breath, and Billy gives him a dopey grin before leaning in to nip and suck at Steve’s earlobe. He lets out a loud moan at the contact, too turned on to be embarrassed by the sound.

“Like that, don’t you, pretty boy?” Billy asks, rhetorically, before returning to the task.

Unsure of what to do, Steve slides his hands up under Billy’s t-shirt, exploring the planes of his stomach and the pecs that were the driving force behind most of his senior year jerk off fantasies. And god, they feel just as good as he thought they would, soft and pillowy, but firm at the exact same time. He’s in heaven.

“Can I give you a hand, Harrington?” Billy asks, hand hovering over the button on Steve’s jeans.

“Yes, yeah. Can I, you, uh,” Steve replies, barely able to get the words out, motioning gracelessly at Billy’s own jeans, and Billy undoes the button on Steve’s jeans and unzips his fly. Steve stands and pulls his jeans and boxers down to his knees as Billy undoes his own pants and pulls them down.

Billy pulls him back into a kiss for a minute before pulling away again.

“You got lube in here?” he asks, even as he leans over and pulls a bottle out of Steve’s bedside table drawer. He squirts some on his own and doles out some to Steve before dropping it into the sheets.

They grasp each other in their slicked up hands, and holy shit, Steve’s not going to ask long. It feels too amazing to finally have Billy’s hands on him. If the little whimpers and gasps coming out of Billy’s mouth are anything to go by, he’s not going to last long either.

They stroke each other at a fast pace as Steve tries to see how many hickeys, he can give Billy before they both cum. Three’s the magic number, then Billy’s bucking into Steve’s grasp, and Steve’s doing the same for him, then they’re coming all over each other’s hands and stomachs, gasping into each other’s mouths as they come down from their shared high.

***

They’re laying in bed after, sweaty and panting, Billy starfished out over Steve’s body, with his boxers pulled up but his jeans kicked off onto the floor, a heavy, reassuring weight. When Steve used to fantasize about this moment, he always pictured Billy to be the kind of guy that would hook up and run, but if anything, he seems to be settling in, using Steve’s chest like a pillow, and twining their legs together. It’s exactly what Steve would have asked for if he could decide how this would go. It’s nice, it’s sweet, and Steve could get used to it.

“So, Harrington,” Billy says, his voice quiet but rough, probably from how deep he took Steve’s cock into his mouth. “Do you think we should add this to the paper? Maybe we’ll get extra credit for doing hands on research.”

Steve snorts, swatting him. “As much as I could use the extra points, I think I want to keep this all to myself.”

[theygender]

Bruh I've known for years that I have visual processing issues (separate from my actual vision problems) but I never really looked into the specifics of how it works before. I know sometimes, especially when my brain is tired, I have trouble making sense of shapes and separating the foreground of images from the background. So I can see the image perfectly fine but I can't make out what it is, even if it's something that should be very obvious like a singer crouching at the edge of a stage (actual example). Those moments are a lot like auditory processing issues, where you can technically hear what someone is saying just fine but your brain can't parse it into words. And when I'm having a lot of trouble with this sort of thing, image descriptions are helpful for me. I figured that was just what visual processing disorder was right?

Well now I'm reading more about it and it turns out that there are 8 different types of visual processing skills and VPD can affect any of them. The issues I just described would fall primarily under visual foreground issues bc it stems mainly from not being able to distinguish the foreground (singer) from the background (stage and audience). But it probably also involves some visual closure issues bc I have trouble figuring out what the full shape is if part of it is cut off (like if the singer is kneeling in such a way that not all of their limbs are fully visible), as well as form constancy issues bc I have trouble recognizing familiar shapes if they're in an unexpected position/context (singer kneeling close to the audience instead of standing on stage)

Reading more about form constancy has got me really mind blown actually. I have a lot of quirks that I always just attributed to autism/ADHD. I can't find objects in plain sight, for one thing, especially if they're in a different location than normal. I can set something down on a table right out in the open and almost immediately lose it if there's other objects nearby for it to "blend into." If I'm looking for something in a cabinet or the fridge or even just on a slightly crowded counter I have to ask my gf to remind me what color it is so I can just pick out the color, bc otherwise I can look forever and not find it. Even if I make a conscious effort to check each individual item, I can look right at it multiple times and still not process that it's the object I'm looking for. I have to make it a habit to always put things back in the exact same spot bc otherwise I can't see them. The other day I went to get a new roll of toilet paper from our toiletry shelf and I thought "damn, we're almost out, I better order some more." I didn't realize until I bought a new box and went to stack it on the shelf that there was already an entire new box right there, just slightly to the left. And this isn't even "tired brain" processing, this is my everyday normal

And apparently... that's all described as symptoms of form constancy issues? Like, some of the things optometrists warn parents to watch out for when determining if their child has VPD are "difficulty finding missing items quickly even if they are in plain sight" and "difficulty recognizing objects when placed in a new location"

Another issue I have is a ridiculous inability to orient myself, know my way around familiar places, or understand where I am in relation to other places. I still have to use GPS to get to shops near my home that I've been going to for years and I have no idea what direction anything is in. My gf and I once had some fun playing a game where we stood in our living room and she asked me to point in the directions of things like "the store across the street" and "the entrance to our apartment complex" and "the mailboxes" and "the dumpster by our building" and I was unable to get any of them correct. Part of it is bc even if I DO manage to memorize my way around somewhere it's just a single-line map telling me when to turn to get from point A to point B and it falls apart if I try to come at it from any other angle, and part of it is due to an inability to judge distances (I have taken the extreme long way around on multiple occasions bc I couldn't tell that "just around the corner of that side of the building" was a shorter distance than going around the opposite side of the building, circling around the back, and then coming in from the other direction)

...Turns out that another aspect of form constancy issues is "difficulty judging distances" and "difficulty picturing objects at different angles." Aaaand during this research I happened to stumble across a site with little baby games to help young kids with visual processing issues practice to improve their form constancy skills and uh. It's kinda kicking my ass 😭

I learned some FUN things about myself tonight lads

[mestruazioni]

my dad told me to write a book about this past week but I don't have the strength so I'm gonna make a tumblr post about it.

starting wednesday: my great aunt dies. she was 88, so it's fine, just terribly depressing she died in a nursing home because her husband refused to have her at home in her last days. her husband, who has always been a control freak and the most stingy person I will ever meet, is Going Through It.

he's letting me and my mom and aunts do what we need to do for the showing, but he's controlling it all and yelling. the stingy part comes out when he asks the funeral director if the fridge connected to the coffin with his wife's body inside must stay connected to the electricity and must stay on. laughter ensues. honestly, thank god he asked in advance, otherwise he definitely would have pulled it out of the outlet. I can just imagine walking into his house the next day with the smell of rotting corpse. next day, he gets a 40° fever that simply won't go down.

aunts and everyone else starts going "please please don't make us have a double funeral". he is yelling blasphemy as they take his temperature multiple times a day. it's also worth saying he recently got his bladder removed and so now he pees in a bag. since he's a cheapskate, he doesn't empty it in the toilet, otherwise he'll have to flush and water is expensive I guess. so every couple of hours he wants to go in the garden and fuckin. piss in there. he falls down as he goes, hurts his ribs. fever goes up again. doc says ribs are okay. sure. fine. okay. fever goes down and up throughout the next four days. we're all worried sick, but luckily it doesn't get worse than that.

anyway. funeral happens on friday. it's sad, of course it's sad. when I get home, I start feeling sick. I realize I probably dressed too lightly for the weather. I wanted to serve cunt to a funeral and I paid the price. the toilet becomes my best friend. my cousin calls me, "I'm throwing up". oh shit, we realize, it's not cuz I was dressed too lightly! we both got a virus! I spend the entirety of friday night shitting and being unable to sleep. I get a light fever. saturday goes the same way.

"fuck," I say, as I remember I was supposed to go to my week-long spa holiday on sunday. I can't go. I can't get into thermal baths with diarrhea. I can't drive the 2 hours required to get there, I can barely get out of bed.

so I call the hotel. "I had a loss in my family" I say, instead of "I'm shitted me body and soul". "could I postpone my visit to next sunday?" I ask. they say "sorry for your loss! of course! it's no problem! we'll see you next sunday! so sorry for your loss again!" they say it so many times I start to think they themselves murdered my aunt. anyway, cool, see you next sunday.

the night between sunday and monday, I go to sleep at 6AM. I spend the entirety of the night tossing and turning, my legs killing me from the pain. never felt anything like it. got out of bed, barely made it down the stairs, got some painkillers, managed to sleep. in the meantime, my mother is worried sick for me.

I spend the week dealing with leg pain and eating nothing, I just don't feel hunger, I lose 2kgs. I go to work and spend entire days doing nothing, since I have next to nothing to do. I was supposed to be in a spa, after all. at some point, the cat throws up next to my head while I was sleeping.

I call the hotel again, just to make sure everything is okay and the new booking actually went through. they say yes, everything is fine, we'll see you on sunday. yes my friends. yes you will. I can't wait for you.

anyway.

it's finally friday! can't believe I'm finally going away on sunday, I can already feel the warmth of the thermal baths, the smell of the salt, the sauna... but no.

my car breaks. it's not moving. the motor light comes out and says HELP ME HELP ME I CANT BREATHE. I get it to a mechanic. we gotta change a part of the motor. do not even ask me what it is because I don't know. I never learned and never will. I just know where water and gas go, the rest is science I'm not mentally equipped to understand. long story short, the car can't be used.

I gotta rent a car.

I find one. my dad says he's gonna pay for it. love you my man. alright, let me put in your credit card info and we're good to go.

saturday I shit my soul again. "It's okay", I say, "this time you really were dressed too lightly" I say. I'm not gonna be sick at the spa, I'm not gonna reschedule again.

in the meantime, my mom gets paranoia. "too many things went wrong" she says, "you shouldn't leave. you didn't get a virus, it's probably a bacteria in the water. and you're going to thermal baths. it's going to be bad. don't go. please" I say MOTHER I AM BEGGING YOU DO NOT GIVE ME MORE ANXIETY

it's sunday now. let's go get this rented car and let's go to the hotel. my dad takes me to the rental place. I get checked in, everything goes okay. can't wait to try a new car! it's going to be so fun.

"we need the credit card of the main driver" the lady says. gurl. I don't have a credit card, I have a debit card. my dad says "use mine", the lady says "no it has to be registered to the main driver. it's in our terms and conditions" aw fuck! I'm an idiot! funny thing is, not only did I not read the terms and conditions, I didn't even know my card was a debit card. I thought it was credit. good day! good brain. adult.

fuck.

"I can give you a manual car, that way we won't need a card" girl I can't even keep queen's we will rock you beat, you think I'm capable of driving manual? no! I'm an idiot! I got the notif of when neil gaiman reblogged one of my posts tattooed on my body forever! I'm an impulsive idiot!!!!! I can't drive manual!!!!!!!

so we call the call center to cancel the booking. it takes 15 minutes. my anxiety attack is worsening. we manage to cancel it and get our money back, but now we need to find a new place to rent a car. thank god my dad didn't just drop me off and drive away. I'm holding his hand as he tells me it's all gonna be okay.

we find a new place to rent a car. they have a cool car and it's automatic. they accept debit cards. thank god. "you gotta pay for insurance, if nothing happens to the car we'll give it back to you when you get back" alright cool.

payment doesn't go through. ahah it's okay it happens sometimes let's try again.

payment doesn't go through. let's try actually inserting the card shall we

payment doesn't go through.

at this point I'm in full anxiety attack. what did I do. why doesn't the universe want me to go on this vacation. I have the money, I know I do, why isn't it going through? I am a failure.

"listen I'm going to make an exception and let your dad pay even if the card isn't in your name"

oh. oh lady. you gave me a "oh. oh." fanfic moment. absolute unit of a queen. total rebel. friend shaped. saint among mortals.

I finally get the fucking keys to the fucking car. I hug my dad, put on my playlist, fall in love with the car, call my dad to say "if you ever want to change cars consider this one". I work for Volkswagen now.

I get to the hotel. so beautiful. there's an old doggo at the entrance, she's gorgeous and fluffy and fun and lets me pet her belly. I find out it's actually the hotel's doggo. blessed place!!!!!

go to the receptionist, tell them my name and everything. they can't find me.

they can't. fucking. find me.

I don't even have the will to get anxious anymore. I'm just. done. it makes sense, I think. murphy's law hit me with a car, put it in reverse, ran me over another time and a few more times after that.

I am as tired as the senior doggo at the entrance is. I see the pool from the reception. I ache. there are four people at the reception now trying to find my fucking name in their servers.

"don't worry" they say, "we have availability, we just can't understand what happened"

I don't know whether to cry or cry at this point. they talk between themselves for a bit, they give me a coffee, I make small talk and laugh at the situation with them.

"to make up for the mistake we upgraded your original room for a better one at the same price" oh my sweet darlings

they give me my keys. I get to the room.

I fall on the bed.

war is over.

I close my eyes.

I'm still extremely paranoid. something bad is going to happen again, I can sense it. can't quite place it, I just feel it lurking around. I'm supposed to start relaxing, why do I feel like something is getting ready to attack me?

"Ah porcodio" I say, "succession ends tonight."

[deus-ex-mona]

i hope y’all had a great weekend!!!

i say, rambling about my strangely unrestful weekend under the cut because i have no friends to hear me out lmaooo

i’m only rambling here because the character limit in the tags is really annoying, and also because i really wanna remember all of the weird ideas that i threw out for my room planning in spite of my innately terrible memory, so here goes—

so, saturday! a day of rest for many, just a regular day at work for me :( but the one good thing about going to work yesterday is that i finally managed to eat this one specific food item that i’d been craving lmaooo.

on friday, this coworker dude offered to buy me (and everyone else too, really) some food to “celebrate” the weekend i guess? so i just told him that i wanted that food item (only because i’m unable to find it easily and stuff :(), and the dude actually managed to get it for me!!! granted, he bought it from a different country on his way to work, but still!!! the best part is that when the price of the stuff he bought was converted to local currency, the food came out to being literally 10 cents apiece, which was pretty funny ngl.

also, i got to hear some pretty 👀👀👀worthy work gossip, so that was fun~

and then came today. aka sunday!!!!

i found out that the apartment that my family and i would be moving into was almost ready(!!!!) and that i’d finally be getting my own room(!!!!!!!!).

so, naturally, i dragged my mother down to the apartment with me (despite her literally just coming back from visiting it with my brother) and took a gander for myself.

apart from my tiny room, the place was kinda insane ngl. they had some kind of built-in pulley system(????) for the overhead laundry rack, which you have to lower by yourself to hang your stuff on.

and also!!!! there seems to be sinks installed in the tank of the toilet bowl??? just look at it yo

that’s definitely a sink, right?

it befuddles me to no end… i asked my mother what it’s for, and she told me that i could gargle my mouth there, so that was rather unhelpful. ಠ‿ಠ

and after that, i dragged my mother off to ikea to look at the showrooms and stuff for ✨inspiration✨ and inspiration did strike!!! i managed to get great ideas about to how to maximise my space in my tiny room and even made weird doodles to illustrate my vision for posterity!!! hint: ✨shelves✨. tons of shelves!!

…but sadly, my mother rejected my suggestion of skipping the dining table entirely to attach a huge shelf to the wall instead, so we could eat like we’re at a noodle bar :( sads. home noodle bars could definitely be a thing, right?

but in the end, i guess i’ll end up missing this current tiny temporary apartment that i’ve been staying at for the past few years… i’ll definitely miss the wild chicken family that lives at the ground floor though… despite how noisy the rooster is… but oh well! life has to go on, right? may the rooster terrorise the next inhabitants of this temporary flat as well…

but aside from that, i’m definitely not looking forward to dealing with my storaged nonsense, especially my love live merch collection from ages ago. i don’t even like love live anymore, man… what the heck was past me thinking?

aaaa i hope no bugs got into my pokespe manga though… those were my treasures for sure. maaan do i have so many memories of writing/drawing bad fanfiction for pokespe. and also of n harmonia. my former friend and i obsessed over the poor dude for ages. we drew so much bad fanart of him, turned him into a frog hybrid of sorts, and even made small replicas of his waist cube during class one day… man, now i feel old lmao

sorry if you read this~! uhhhhh happy sunday (if it still sunday for you)!!!!

[d-trashbandicoot]

The last 4 years : A retrospection (part 3)

Now the house was empty, yes, but I had friends here to hang out with. I think I had also brought my PS4 with me. I was there for two weeks and yet I cannot recall much. As a matter of fact I cannot recall anything from memory. Not with certainty. I think; I went surfing at one point, I would’ve met my closest and oldests friends, maybe a night out, many hours at the old coffeeshop which doubled up as a queer second hand bookshop. But I cannot say for definite. My memory is hazy, as is often the case on these down swings. Somehow, once again, I ended up moving to Glasgow. The only reason that remains for that choice was convenience. Was it a mistake? 

Yes. Definitely. I could’ve resolved that situation much better. I could’ve been back in Bristol and getting on track after Jersey. But no, we got hooked on Mitsiki’s Brand New City. 

“Guess I should move to a brand new city, and teach myself how to die” 

Those words resonated. Now Glasgow wasn’t exactly a brand new city, for me, but then again I hadn’t really lived much in it the last time I was there. I guess maybe it was also the pro trans stance that Scotland offered that enticed me. Not that it mattered after I went down the DIY route. This time I told my parents my plans the first week I was at home. When they returned, I spent another few nights there  and made my way to Glasgow. And yes I left with yet more of my crap from my home, because I had decided that Glasgow would be there for good. I had found some courses to get into a Paramedic degree and thought it was enough. I thought I’ll find work and figure out the financials later. 

In reality I was still caught in the rip currents of the mood swings, and the change of self medication regimen didn’t help matters. 

My first month in Glasgow was tinted by the excitement of a new place. However once again even though it is the most recent time I seem to remember a lot less than of my time in Bristol. 

At some point I had picked up my first job doing deliveries for Amazon. The commute was between 1-2 hours with all the waiting times. The job was fine at first, I got to drive around, see new places. I started on Nursery routes, that’s what they call the routes with less stops to give to the new starters. Even on these I found myself always having someone pick up packages from me. Pretty soon as my loads increased, I was unable to complete them. I was doing 14 hour days,10 of which for driving. I was allowed 1 break, but never had the time to take it. In hindsight it wouldn’t have mattered, but I had hoped that it was just a case of getting to know the route. And once that happened I would get my working hours done much quicker. It was pretty clear very soon that it would not be the case. The worst of it was not having access to a toilet. And with the places I was delivering to, there wasn’t anywhere to go discreetly. Except for the back of the van, in a plastic bottle. It was only a matter of time before the mixed episode started. 

And then right on cue, I reversed the van into a bollard. Hard enough to bend the bumper into the back door and prevent it from opening. The worst of it was that it was a hire van, not a company one. The entire day fearing the consequence under a mixed episode only to drop it off and not hear anything from it. It wasn’t long till I snapped. One day I was going in, and only saw the message that my shift had been cancelled once I was on site. Not that it mattered, I took a bus to work that day, which only stopped at the business park at the top of the industrial complex before going on to Edinburgh. Now I was complaining too much, I was dreading the work. I walked down to the train station and went home. I had started dating someone at the time I started working too. That kind of kept it going. But alas I was growing too attached to this person, and I don’t think they wanted that. Then after the break-up, the next thing I know, I'm sending a message to my boss to say I’ve relapsed and can’t come in. He said he’ll be in touch but I would never hear from him again. 

And so here we were again. Jobless, single and in a pit of despair. 

[simthorium]

Simone was having the worst day of her life. She had planned on telling Gordon about the affair, but kept chickening out. And now it’d seemed that karma had been out to get her because she was almost certainly pregnant. Simone tried her hardest to hold it in, but vomited again for what felt like the 100th time.

Simone spent most of the day alternating between napping and puking. It wasn’t very fun, and she’d much prefer to nap in her bed, but the couch was closer to the toilet, so it made more sense. Kauker made one of his rare appearances to get some camera gear out of the living room cabinet. His mother hopped up again and ran to the bathroom to puke. “Jeez, mom,” Kauker said. “You got the flu or something?”“ “Or something,” Simone muttered.

Later that night, Simone made dinner as Gordon and Kauker sat at the table. “How was work, dad?” Kauker asked. “Grueling,” Gordon muttered. “I can’t wait til I can retire, cus I’m over it.” “You could just become an influencer and make money that way,” Kauker said with a shrug. “At least you had a better day than mom, though. She’s been puking her guts out all day. Hey mom, are you pregnant? I think having a baby brother or sister would totally skyrocket my TikTok follwers!”

Simone placed food in front of her family before sitting down in her own seat. She took a deep breath, tears stinging her eyes. “Actually,” she said, breakdown imminent. “I am pregnant.” “Whoooaaaaa!” Kauker said. “Hell yes, congrats guys!” “Wait,” Gordon said, mentally doing the math. “Pregnant?”

Simone looked at Gordon pleadingly, hoping he could tell how sorry she was by the look on her face. She broke down into tears, her shoulders heaving up and down as she cried into her dinner. “I’m so, so sorry, Gordon!” she sobbed. “I had a lapse in judgement, ok? I couldn’t help myself!”

“Are you KIDDING ME!?” Gordon shouted, jumping to his feet. “You’ve been screwing someone else AND you’re pregnant with his kid!?” “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Simone cried. Kauker jumped up and backed into the wall, unsure of what to do. “Get the hell out of my house,” Gordon said in a deep voice. “Gordon, I--” “LEAVE!”

“Dad,” Kauker said, near tears as well. “You can’t just kick her out. Where is she supposed to go?” “Go be with your bastard child’s father for all I care,” Gordon said, his mind made up. Simone was still sobbing, unable to control herself. She didn’t have anything left to give. She wiped her face and left the room.

“Mom, please!” Kauker said, rushing after his mother as she left the house. “Don’t leave, please. We can work this out.” “I’m so sorry, baby,” Simone said, her head still spinning. “I can’t be here.” “Where are you gonna go?” Kauker cried.

“I’ll spend a few days with grandma,” Simone said, making it up as she went. “I’ll call you when I get there, ok? We’ll figure it out.” “Mom,” Kauker said, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.” “I know, baby,” Simone said, hugging her son. “I don’t either.”

Kauker was shocked that his entire world was flipped upside down all in one evening. Simone called when she arrived at his grandma Naya’s farm in Pleasantview. He was glad she was safe, but so, so angry. He was angry at his mother for cheating. Angry at her for getting pregnant and hurting his dad. And he was angry at his dad for kicking his mom out. None of it seemed fair.

He’d made his mind up just as fast as his mother did. Kauker was a proper internet celebrity; he didn’t need this. He packed up his things as his dad slept on the couch in the living room and quietly left that same day.

[crohnsdiseased]

just felt like rambling about my school’s bullshit somewhere that isn’t *as* directly tied to me lmao

christ. i tested positive for covid (no fucking idea where i got it) and so they have to put me in the quarantine dorms, which already sucks because i have to move across campus during finals and be alone and whatever but i get it, they have to deliver us all food, it makes sense. i hate it but it makes sense!

the quarantine dorms are on the 4th floor of the freshmen dorms. which infamously have no elevator.

i email the guy handling it all to be like hey are there any lower floor options, i’m disabled and i don’t think i’ll be able to carry my belongings up Three Flights Of Stairs. he says no, but you have plenty of time to move in so it’ll be fine. (i had 3 hours to move in from the time the email was sent)

im like. ok. i’ll try. i guess. i gather my belongings and push a cart full of everything i need for 10 days— including shit like toilet paper, bedding, etc because they do not provide that in the quarantine dorms— Across Campus. i am disabled, i have covid, it’s fucking cold out, i am already tired from that. i get to the freshmen dorms. i get to the first set of stairs. i Cannot get my belongings up even One Step.

i immediately email again saying hey this isn’t gonna work i literally am unable to get up the stairs, i am disabled, can someone be sent to help me. while waiting for a reply, in the cold, i try lugging my stuff up the stairs again. can’t even get a step up. again.

after an hour. an Hour. i send a followup message. saying hey. im sorry for sending so many messages. but i am in the freezing cold, because i do not want to wait inside, because i do not want to spread covid. i CANNOT get up the stairs. Please Do Something For Me. i still do not get a reply. half an hour passes. my mom is threatening to call every official on the planet. me, being socially anxious, is like pppplease no id rather freeze.

after a while i am So cold and tired, and mind you i woke up at 7am after sleeping like shit bc covid has given me insomnia (usually im great at sleeping), so i go up to one building that has the office of res life. idfk what every office does so im like ok maybe they can help me. and i ask the front desk person if they can ask if someone can help me. they ask who ive been emailing with, i tell them, they’re like oh he’s back here, they go back and talk to him. they come back and say “im sorry we can’t help you.” this person seems genuinely sorry and like they want to help but that a higher up, mr. Ignoring My Fucking Emails, is saying they can’t. by this point i am mere seconds away from sobbing so im like :) thank you… and leave and then have a lil breakdown in the bathroom where i can’t even wipe my snot face bc i have fucking covid and i feel bad enough even using a public bathroom at all

anyway i gave my mom permission to call whoever she wanted and she called around. i was told multiple times someone would be ‘contacting me’ and nobody did. it’s another 45 minutes. she calls the health center and there’s a nurse there who is SO horrified that NO ONE IS DOING ANYTHING that she walks halfway across campus in full Plague Gear to me. and she carries my belongings. up three flights of stairs. the entire time being like “it is Ridiculous that they make students with covid do this wtf” and i thank her a hundred times and my mom sends an email being like “pls give nurse a raise. pls tell email jerk he sucks.” the nurse is my guardian angel.

30 minutes after arriving in the dorm, email jerk replies to me saying i should abandon my belongings at the bottom of the stairs (in the middle of the dorm yard) and go to the dorm and he ‘may’ have someone come by in 15 minutes to bring my things up for me. i say … no. no thanks im at the dorm.

anyway shoutout to my school i guess

[e-munson666]

More Than Mean 7

++Peter/Henry/001 × F!Reader++

(Its been a month and its time to take off your casts, you plan on killing Peter to escape for good, but something unexpected happens)

Warnings ⚠️: 18+ NON CON MENTIONED Language, Peter is his own warning. Forced relationship, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome for the reader. A/N: This series is dark. Please only view if you are comfortable. I in no way condone the things written. Fiction is fiction and nothing more.

Taglist: @rayballs66 @myersobsessed @prettysbliss @edb954 @stunnababy2212 @elodieballard @horrificslvt @ibibishiboula @thatlesbosimp @prettysbliss @starfishfaerie @stunnababy2212 @your-local-rockstar-simp @nightless @tox-toxic @little-lily-w

Master-List

🖤Lady Hellfire🖤

Its been a little over 4 weeks since Peter gave you his ultimatum, stay willingly, or chained as his prisoner. You chose to stay willingly, although you are still under his thumb, unable to move around due to your casts. Peter moves you from room to room, keeping a close eye on you ar all times.

Today is the day Peter said he would remove your casts, allowing you to finally be able to walk around on your own. Peter didn't like the idea, he would rather leave you incapacitated so you can't flee, can't fight him. He's had so much fun being able to use you as he pleases, reveling in the soft whimper you'd make when he would approach you, unbuckling his belt.

He had a motive of course, other than his own pleasure. He was determined to impregnate you, knowing his strong genes would yield a powerful child, so he breeds you as often as possible.

"Bunny" Peter said, shaking you slightly to wake you up, "Bunny its time" he continued.

You finally awoke, looking up at him with a deep frown. "Okay Peter" you said shakily. You didn't feel very good today, head spinning, and extremely nauseated.

Peter was halfway through removing the first cast when you suddenly yelled "Stop!"

Peter looked up at you, irritation spread across his face, "What?" He spit, challenging you to continue your disobedience.

"I think I'm gonna throw up" you say much quieter, hands wrapping around your stomach. Peters face softens and he quickly scoops you into his arms to take you to the bathroom. About a second after he set you down you were heaving into the toilet. Peter held your hair and lightly rubbed your back.

"Are you ok Bunny?" Peter asked. He was concerned, the entire time you've been with him you hadn't gotten sick, and watching you're body shake and writhe sent a weird sinking feeling to his heart.

"Water" you manage to get out between gags. Peter quickly rose to his feet and went off to the kitchen, grabbing you some ice cold water from the fridge before returning. You quickly chug the water, greatful eyes staring up at him as you emptied the glass.

"I think I'm done" you say, slumping your body against the wall. You were exhausted, body aching, as Peter stepped over you, turning on the shower. He quickly got to work removing the remainder of your cast, before undressing you both and picking you up.

You stood in the shower as Peter bathed you, wobbly on your feet after weeks of sitting, and weak from being sick, so you rested your head on Peters chest, greatful for him in this moment. Peter hadn't been harsh with you since you chose to be with him.

He was softer to you, attentive, loving even as he'd taken care of you these past weeks. Weeks......you thought to yourself, feeling like something important had gone forgotten. You shrug off the thought as Peter shuts off the tap, and slowly starts drying your body.

"Lets get you something to eat" He says, you nod slowly as he picks you up once more, placing your tired body on the bed. "Can you get yourself dressed Bunny?" Peter asks, hands on your shoulders as he speaks. You nod again and Peter kisses your forehead before leaving the room.

You shuffle over to the closet to find some clothes when you get a seering pain in your lower abdomen. You chalk it up to cramps until it hits you.

You haven't had your period......and you know you should have. You come to the sickening realization of what's happening before you suddenly faint, hitting the floor with a loud thump.

You regain consciousness to find Peter dabbing a cold rag on your forehead, he'd quickly come to you when he heard the loud thud, moving you to the bed before running cold water on the cloth he was gently pressing to your skin.

"Bunny what happened? Are you okay?" Peter asks, concern prominent in his tone. He watched as tears filled your eyes, and streamed quickly down your cheeks. "Bunny?" Peter asked again.

"Peter........I........I think I'm pregnant" you cry out, burying your face in your hands. Your words shock Peter, and for a moment he just stands frozen. "I will get you a test, and we will find out for sure Bun, it will be okay" he assures you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you cried. A dark, wide grin spreading across his face. He didn't need the test, he KNEW, he knew you were now carrying his child, and a happiness he'd never felt before began to wash over him.

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A/N: part 8 MIGHT be the last of this series, comment to be tagged! You definitely don't want to miss it

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The Midnight Coconuts

Summary: Bucky and his girl take a trip to the grocery store. Several things are involved, including coconuts, a 25cent gum-ball machine, Avengers branded Jell-O, chocolate milk straight from the jug, and tampons.  Characters: Bucky x Reader Words: 3k Warnings: Some swearing. Insane levels of fluff. Dangerously adorable Bucky. One (1) random reference to Not Another Teen Movie. 

A/N: Listen, I will never be over silly domestic Bucky! I originally started this story before TFATWS came out and when I imagined Sam had a niece, so just go with it. Part of me wrote this, because I needed to convince myself that I love grocery shopping (one can only eat takeaway and Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken for so long) and the other part wrote this because I firmly believe domestic routines can be the most romantic adventures out there.

When the doors to the grocery store whoosh open with a gust of stale manufactured air, Bucky skids to an abrupt and dramatic stop.  

“WAIT!”

Behind him, you stumble in panic, fumbling with an armful of reusable grocery bags. Instantly you’re imagining spilled blood and stab wounds and clean ups on aisle three and god dammit, how can there be a problem? This is a grocery store at midnight on a Wednesday. Shouldn’t the forces of evil be sleeping? Why is it so impossible to get a day off work? Don’t they know you need rest? And peanut butter? And that you’re dangerously low on toilet paper?

The forces of evil are the worst.

Raising weary fists, you huff.

“What? Where is it?”

Bucky sidesteps toward a row of small red and green machines beside the entrance, falling to his knees and smushing his nose eagerly against the glass. Reaching a hand behind him, there are several impatient grabby motions, before he glances back.

“Babe, can you give me a quarter? I need a gum-ball.”

Planting a sneaker clad foot on his ass, you shove. Hard.  

“Bucky, we talked about this. Remember how you agreed to lower the drama and keep things in perspective? I thought we were under attack.”

“If I don’t get a green gum-ball,” he declares dramatically, “there will be an attack.”

Throwing the cloth bags at his face, you stomp off to retrieve a shopping cart, plunking your purse in the front and hunching over the handlebars.  

“I thought you said you were a millionaire now. Buy your own gum-ball.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Like I carry loose change,” he scoffs. “C’mon, just one quarter. Please?”

This time, he gives you the Look. That patented Bucky Barnes stare, with the wide eyes and full pouty lips and faux innocent expression, and if this man wasn’t the love of your life you’d quite happily stab him in the heart.

Instead, you open your purse and fish out a quarter, flinging it at his frustratingly pretty face. It bounces off his forehead and he scoops it up with a grin.

“So just to clarify. You came to the grocery store covered in knives, but you forgot to bring money?”

Giving you an indulgent smile, he jams the quarter into the slot. With a twist and shake, a gum-ball rattles free, and Bucky crows with delight when he sees the green candy. He pops it in his mouth. 

“I didn’t forget. I made a conscious decision to remove the temptation. If I bring cash, I’ll spend it. You know I ain’t great with that whole self control thing.”

“How encouraging to hear, from the man with knives pouring out his ass.”  

Jumping to his feet, he throws an arm around your shoulders. 

“Ass knives sound painful.”

“Depends on how sharp they are,” you mumble, pulling a carefully folded sheet of paper from your jacket.

“Excuse you? My knives are always perfectly sharpened, thank you very much. What kind of expert assassin runs around with dull knives? Damn baby, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

Ignoring him, you flatten out the paper and smooth the edges, sighing happily at the block letters and structured diagrams drawn in deep blue ink. 

Here it is, your masterpiece. A monument to productivity. The gold standard by which all optimization models should be benchmarked. This isn’t just any list, this is The List.

Everything is grouped, first by aisle, then by product location within the aisle, and then from top to bottom shelf order, to maximize efficiency. This is the dream list. The kind that inspires jealousy. The kind people hold up at TED talks when they talk about time management techniques. Marie Kondo wishes she had this list. 

Bucky snorts when he sees the carefully printed boxes.  

“God, you’re such a square,” he says adoringly. He plants a sugary wet kiss on your temple and you grind an elbow into his ribs.

“We discussed this, Bucky. Don’t mock my lists.” 

“Sorry babe, I ain’t mocking. Your lists are beautiful, they always get me all hot and bothered,” he agrees, dipping lower to lick behind your ear. “And I really love that list you keep with all those dirty, filthy, sex things you wanna do to me.”

“I don’t have a list like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighs, “and I don’t know how many more hints I can drop here.”

Reaching under his shirt, you rub his belly consolingly. “Okay then. This weekend I’ll sit down and make you a special list. One so disgusting and dirty and depraved, it would make Wade Wilson cry.”

Bucky laughs and squeezes you tighter. 

“About damn time honey. I’m equally parts terrified and horny. So where’re we headed first?”

“Produce,” you answer promptly, plowing forward, Bucky still chuckling beside you.

The whole scenario was ironic, actually. There was no need to grocery shop - automatic ordering mechanisms  across the Avengers tower rendered the task meaningless - but sometimes it was a welcome relief to partake in such an ordinary thing. Unable to sleep after one particularly terrible mission, you found yourself wandering the aisles of your 24-hour supermarket, dressed in pineapple adorned pajama pants and one of Bucky’s rattier sweatshirts, searching for ice cream. The unexpected symmetry of products arranged along the shelves, the rainbow hued produce, the hint of baking bread wafting from the ovens, all those everyday trappings of normality, they washed over like a soothing balm. Soon enough, the boiling bad thoughts simmered to nothing more than a cache of blurry memories.

When you got home, sleep came fast, deep and dreamless.

One month later, the idea struck again.

After 36 hours of Bucky tossing and turning, dark shadows bruising beneath weary blue eyes, you took his hand and led him down the dark street for a midnight adventure. He was skeptical, disbelieving that something so simple could chase away the insomnia. But he dutifully followed you, strolling aimlessly through the aisles, throwing odds and ends into the cart. 

The tension gradually eased, he began to relax, and suddenly? 

He was hooked.

An hour later, after arguing the health benefits of frosted Cheerios over oatmeal, poking each hunk of cheese in the display, and loading the cart with every single flavor of spaghetti sauce on the shelf, the heavy weight of remembering began to ease. When he collapsed into bed, he slept for eight hours straight.

I don’t know what that was, he swore the next morning, munching through his third bowl of frosted Cheerios, but it was magic.

And with that, a midnight ritual was born. Sometimes you make the trek alone, sometimes Bucky does the same, but whenever life permits you go together. This small slice of domesticity brings a warm comfort to this strange life.   

There is no doubt, this is your favorite area of the entire store.

Barrels filled with tart oranges and smooth red apples. Tables piled high with bananas, some just shy of yellow, others sunshine perfect, and a few with speckles of black (which are the best). Shelves lining the walls, overflowing with bundles of herbs and lettuce, all coated in a fine layer of mist. 

Bliss. 

Heading straight for the apples, you plunge into the Gala pile, rummaging until you come up with ten perfect ones. Peaches follow, fingers rubbing along the delicate pinky-orange fuzz. Squeeze, smell, squeeze, smell. Five are chosen for a pie (Sam pleaded shamelessly until you agreed to make him one), and in the cart they go. Heading toward the wall of herbs, you’re reaching for the basil when a metallic bang makes you jump. Spinning around, you find Bucky lobbing coconuts into the cart.

“We need these.”

“We really don’t, Buck. I hate coconut, it tastes like suntan lotion.”

“They’re not for eating,” he grabs an apple, wipes it on his shirt, and takes a juicy bite. “They’re for security.”

Sticky juice drips from his lip, catching in his beard. When you reach over to swipe it away, he nips your finger with a grin.

“Explain please.”

“See it’s like this. We’re just here shopping, doin’ our thang -”

“Don’t say thang.”

“- when someone attacks. What happens? BAM. One of these furry beauties breaks their face. Problem solved.”

Giving him a slow perusal, you raise an eyebrow.

“Were the 47 knives you’re carrying not enough to deflect this attack?”

Finishing off the apple in three sloppy bites, he carefully tucks the price sticker in his pocket so he can scan it before leaving and sets the mangled core beside your purse.

“Babe, these are my back-up plan. A good soldier always has a back-up plan.”

While you grab a bottle of extra-pulpy orange juice, Bucky picks two jugs of chocolate milk, snaps one open and takes a swing. Ever the thrifty shopper, he pulls a familiar bag from his back pocket, fishes out a crumpled piece of newspaper, and dangles it before you.

“Found a coupon for this,” he says gleefully. “Buy one, get one free. It’s called a BOGO. A BOGO. Hilarious, right? Fuck me, I love the future.”

Still laughing, he takes another long drink of chocolate milk and smacks his lips.

It was a lazy Sunday morning when you discovered this particular habit. Walking into the living room, you found Bucky buried in a sea of Sunday newspaper, tongue between his teeth and scissors in hand while he clipped coupons. He wasn’t picky, if it was remotely interesting, it went into the YES pile. It was one of those random things that brought him inordinate levels of joy, so of course you encouraged it. On his last birthday, you gifted him with a green zippered bag decorated with angry looking owls and official looking letters stitched across the front:

Bucky’s Coupon Bag  Thriftn’ Machine Since 1917

He laughed for five straight minutes and then stuffed it full. The bag accompanies you on every trip and the sight of Bucky excitedly rifling through his wad of coupons still makes your heart swell.  

Setting aside his BOGO, Bucky continues down the aisle, leaving you to pause in front of the yogurt. While you contemplate the merits of blackberry vs strawberry, Bucky slides over holding three cans of Reddi-Whip. 

“Are you actually planning to eat that? I thought you said whipped air is for, and I quote, ‘spineless, tasteless trash heathens’?”

Bucky shakes the can of spray whipped cream and wiggles his eyebrows, leveling you with a sultry stare. 

“Hell no I’m not eating it. This is for the bedroom. Last week I watched this god-awful movie where some blond guy - who looked exactly like Steve, by the way - made himself a whipped cream bikini for his girl. Decided I’m gonna do that for you. You’re welcome.”

“That sounds gross and unsanitary.” 

“If by gross and unsanitary you mean spicy and sexy, then yes. Yes it does.”

Whistling what sounds like the theme music from a bad porn, he adds two tubs of honey swirled Greek yogurt, pats your butt, and strolls ahead, throwing a roughish wink over his shoulder. Imagining the melted whipped cream soaking into your bedsheets, you mentally add more laundry detergent to the list.

“Hang on, turn here.”

Tugging the cart behind him, Bucky stalks toward the feminine hygiene display. It takes him a minute to scan the products before squatting down to the bottom shelf. Grabbing two jumbo boxes of tampons, oddly enough the brand you prefer, he pops back to his feet.  

“Dare I ask why you need these?”

A faint pink flush crawls up his neck.  

“Well, you know, two reasons. They’re really great for stopping bloody noses, you know? Just poke ‘em up there and they soak it all up.”

 He mimes the execution and adds a thumbs up.

“And the second reason?”

Squinting at his boots, he shuffles his feet a bit. The pink flush deepens. 

“Um, you know - I know you’re out, since I stuck the last one up Steve’s nose last week, and yeah. Anyway. It’s about that time. Of the month. For you.”

Clearing his throat, he reaches for his chocolate milk, but you grab his wrist.  

“You know when my period’s going to start?”

He shrugs self-consciously and fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.  

“Well yeah. You think it’s just a coincidence when all your favorite candy shows up every month?” Looking up, he shoots you a crooked smile and leans over the cart to kiss your forehead. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you haul him in for a real kiss instead and his startled laughter tickles your lips. When you break away, those bright blue eyes are shining. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

This is the aisle where the cart officially explodes.

Lasagna noodles.

Egg noodles.

Spaghetti noodles.

Penne.

Linguine. 

Fettuccine.

Literally one of every noodle is selected, because Bucky Barnes is a self-proclaimed noodle slut. 

As you organize the boxes and search for orzo, you see him furtively add an extra bag of elbow macaroni. A quiet cough hides your laughter.

The last time Sam’s four-year-old niece came to the tower, she and Bucky spent hours making glittery elbow macaroni necklaces, which they ceremoniously gifted to everyone. When Sam casually mentioned her enthusiastically telling everyone at pre-school about her friend Bucky and how much fun she had visiting him, Bucky ran to a craft store and bulk bought supplies of glue, string, paint, and glitter, just in case she comes over again.

Months later and the entire team are still finding puddles of glitter all over the tower, but the delight on Bucky’s face anytime someone mentions that arts and crafts afternoon? 

It’s worth the mess.     

Gathering up brown sugar, instant oats, and chocolate chips, you turn to drop them in the cart when Bucky makes a strangled noise. Glancing over, you find him bouncing on his toes, vibrating with excitement.

“Babe. Babe. Are you making monster cookies?”

Adding a can of raisins, you search for the good vanilla. The kind that actually tastes like vanilla, not a cheap car wash air freshener. 

“I promised I would,” you remind him. Bucky plasters himself against your back, wrapping you in an enthusiastic hug and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“I love those fucking cookies,” he declares. “They’re my favorite thing ever. Next to you I mean.”

Finding the vanilla, you spin in his arms and return the squeeze.  

“I know you do. But you have to share them this time, okay? You can’t just eat them all yourself like the last two times. Agree?”

“Agree…to disagree. They’re wasted on other people, no one else loves as much. It’s for the best when I eat them all, it’s proof how much I love you. I’m doing it for you. I’m supporting you. Because I love you.”

“You’re completely full of shit,” you reply.

“I swear I’m not! Just listen!”

The excuses grow longer and wilder as Bucky outlines his rationale against sharing, walking backward and dragging the cart with him as he pleads his case. He’s diving into the science of super soldier metabolism levels and caloric requirements and the fact that his sister never shared anything with him, when he bumps into a tall display. 

He pulls up short, eyes narrowing. Plunking his fists on his hips, he growls a disgruntled sigh and glares at the rows of packaging. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Lined up in neat rows, you see boxes of Jell-O organized by color and flavor. On the cover of each are an assortment of familiar images.  

“Are these Avengers themed Jell-O?” you ask, picking up a box with Sam’s image and the words Wild Berry Wilson. The rows extend further, filled with Lime Green Hulk and Blue Raspberry Rogers and Black Cherry Widow and Strawberry Lemon Stark. Exasperated, Bucky grabs the Sparkling Orange Spider flavor. 

“Is this for real? The kid gets one and I didn’t? Someone in PR is getting fired.”

“Well there’re only so many flavors, Buck,” you point out practically, but Bucky’s not in the mood for logic. Instead, he swipes an entire shelf of Jell-O flavors into the cart.  

“I swear to god, I have to do everything around here. Fine then. I’ll make my own flavor, Blackberry Kiwi Soldier or Winter Watermelon Rainbow, or something.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Anyway, I’ll work on the name. But I’m bringing it to dinner tomorrow night and everyone is gonna eat it.”

He dumps in a bag of mini-marshmallows and grabs sprinkles for topping, before marching down the aisle. Cringing at the volume of sugar in the cart, you make another mental note to schedule a dentist appointment.

“Go do your manly duty and find the meat. We need two 5lb rump roasts.”

“I like your rump roast,” he instantly responds and reaches over to smack your butt again. Anticipating the move, you catch his arm and twist it behind his back. He barks out a breathless laugh and you slap his ass in return.

“Your innuendos are tragic.”

Releasing him with a gentle shove, Bucky snatches up his three coconuts and ambles away, laughing while he juggles them. When he returns, he has the requested rump roasts, several packages of bacon, and a bundle of cocktail shrimp.

“If my innuendos get better, then can I touch your butt?”

“Maybe. But they better be real good.”

An added benefit to shopping at midnight? Not a soul in line.

Loading everything onto the conveyer belt, you automatically organize for bagging. Boxes together, produce together, meat together. Bucky adds a pack of batteries, a tin of mints, and some trashy magazines.

The last three items in the cart are his coconuts. They rattle around until you toss them at him, motioning back to the produce department. 

“We made it out alive. Go put them back.”

Still chomping his tasteless green gum-ball, he shakes his head and plops them down. 

“Nah, I have another idea for them. Got all those craft supplies at home, I’m gonna make you something.”

“Should I even ask?”

Bucky blows a huge, wet bubble and looks you up and down.

“Have you every worn one of those coconut bras? Like on TV, with the ladies in grass skirts? I’m gonna make you one. I already have string and glue. And glitter.”

“I think you may be overestimating your crafting abilities.” Digging out your credit card, you wait for the final tally. 

“Well, if it’s terrible then you’ll just be naked. Either way, I win.”

Shaking out your grocery sacks, he packs everything with Tetris-like efficiency and slides all of them up the vibranium arm.   

“How about I make you a deal. I’ll wear a coconut bra, if you’ll make yourself something to wear as well.”

Bucky blows another sugary bubble, pondering the idea.

“Like a coconut man thong?”

“Exactly like a coconut man thong.”

“Deal. Add it to that special dirty list you’re making me honey. We got loads to do.” 

Outside, the night air smells sweet and cool, the barest hint of a spring rain and fresh grass lingering on the breeze. Already, your eyes are feeling heavy, tonight’s quiet adventure ushering in that sought after peace. 

In your right hand, the three coconuts swing gently in their plastic sack. Humming under his breath, Bucky yawns, reaching for your other hand. His warm, calloused palm squeezes tight, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin.

He turns to you with a sleepy, lopsided smile.

Midnight and coconuts.  

It always does the trick.

***

[storiesforallfandoms]

you’re my best friend ~ pete davidson

word count: 2002

request?: yes!

“pete friends to lovers”

description: in which two best friends get super sappy while drunk

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol and weed usage

masterlist (one, two)

You were already two glasses of wine deep when Pete showed up, two cases of beer in his hands. He had a look of excitement on his face, which slowly fell when he realized there was no one else in your apartment.

“Everyone else cancelled,” you answered his unasked question.

“Everyone?” Pete asked.

You nodded. “Prior commitments or just not wanting to come or some shit.”

Pete came over and plopped himself down on the couch next to you. The case of beer was at his feet and he popped it open, taking out a bottle and immediately chugging it. You looked at him in amusement as he did so. Once he was finished, you asked, “Aren’t they warm?”

“Room temperature,” he corrected.

“Isn’t that gross?”

“A little, but obviously I have to catch up with you so we can be on even playing fields all night.”

You smiled and poured yourself another glass of wine as Pete opened another beer and started to drink again.

Between the heavy amounts of alcohol and the joint that Pete had brought, the two of you had gotten fucked up in no time. At some point you couldn’t even get up off the couch for more drinks, or for water that you both knew you should be drinking. The hangover you were going to have the next day was going to be killer, but in the moment neither one of you really cared.

You were both laid back on the couch, legs intertwined as you laughed at something Pete had said. It probably wasn’t even that funny, but in your inebriated state, everything was hilarious.

“You’re, like, my bestest friend, Pete,” you slurred. “No one else even bothered the show up, but you did!”

“I’m sure everyone else had like...stuff happening,” Pete said. “Adult things like...I don’t know...kids and taxes.”

You retched at the thought. “Yeah, no, I’m good with not having those adult things to do. Having kids, while extremely cute, is also extremely exhausting. But I don’t think anyone would’ve shown. No one else really...hangs out with me anymore.”

You laid your head back so you were looking at the ceiling. You could feel a lump growing in your throat and didn’t want Pete to see if you started crying. You knew this sudden emotion was most likely caused by the alcohol and the weed, but you also knew it was something genuine, a concern you had deep down that you had never voiced to anyone before.

You could hear Pete move to sit up and immediately turned your head away so he couldn’t see your face, even though you knew that looked more suspicious than anything.

“Everyone is busy, (Y/N),” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sure they’ll be able to hang out soon enough.”

“They’re not too busy to miss out on work get togethers, or going out with one another.” You sighed. “I know people grow apart and that’s just what happens when you grow up, I just didn’t think it was going to be all of my friends growing up and drifting apart all at the one time.”

“What am I, chopped liver?”

You giggled and sat up. The room spun around you as you did so and it felt like your stomach lurched. You had to take a moment to steady yourself before focusing your attention on Pete.

“I told you, you’re my bestest friend,” you said.

Pete’s smile slowly faded as he looked at you. “(Y/N), don’t cry please.”

You had forgotten about your emotional moment entirely. You wiped your cheek to find a wet streak running from your eye to your chin. You looked away from Pete again, suddenly feeling ashamed by your needless emotions. You were glad that the two of you were so drunk in that moment and would likely forget all of this the next day.

Pete’s hand lightly touched your chin, lifting it so that you were looking at him again. You looked into his eyes as he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your other cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized how closely the two of you were sat together.

“I’ll always be here,” he assured you. “No matter how much we grow up or grow apart, I’ll always be one phone call away.”

You nodded, unable to get the words to unstick from your throat. You believed him, you knew he’d always be here.

The smell of beer and weed was strong as Pete leaned forward more, and normally you’d hate the smell combination. But you were too distracted by Pete’s eyes to notice, and a moment later you were too distracted by his lips on yours.

You had never viewed Pete as anything more than a friend before. You had grown up together. You were partners in crime since the first day you met in middle school. Your friends, and even your family, often made jokes that the two of you would end up together, but you both laughed it off. You were best friends, two peas in a pod, nothing more.

But now, with his lips moving against yours and his arms pulling you as close to him as you could get, you weren’t so sure. It could’ve been the drunken state the two of you were in, mixed with the emotions you were feeling just moments before. When the two of you sobered up the next day you may have not even remembered what happened, but in the moment you wanted all of him. You wanted his lips, his hands, his body, his heart, and you wanted to give him all of you in return.

His tongue brushed against your lips and you gladly let it in. It was wet and tasted like beer, so not the most romantic thing in the world, but it felt good in the moment. You felt like nothing could ruin what was happening, until your stomach lurched again.

You quickly pulled away from Pete and rushed to the bathroom. You didn’t even have time to kick the door closed behind you before you collapsed next to the toilet and threw up everything you had eaten and drank the past few hours. Pete followed closely behind you, pulling your hair back and gently rubbing your back. When you stopped throwing up for long enough, he got up to get you some water and made you drink it all before he did anything else.

“I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser,” he joked. You glared at him over your shoulder before throwing up again.

Once you felt steady enough, Pete helped you to your feet. You brushed your teeth and took a mouthful of mouthwash in order to get rid of the taste of vomit. Pete helped you to your bedroom, where he had another glass of water and an Aspirin waiting for you.

“You’ll need that in the morning,” he said. “I’ll let you get changed.”

“You’ll stay with me though, right?” you asked. Suddenly you hated the thought of Pete having to leave.

He smiled. “Of course I will. I just want to give you some privacy while you change. You’re not supposed to see a girl naked till, like, the third date.”

You smiled back at him, a fuzzy feeling building inside of you at the thought of actually going on a date with Pete.

You changed into a pair of comfy pajamas and downed the glass of water Pete had left for you. You ventured out of your room to the kitchen to pour up another glass. You found Pete putting the bottles of beer in the recycling container and putting your glass in the sink.

“Why aren’t you as fucked up as I am right now?” you questioned.

“I could always handle my booze better than you,” he teased. You scowled and stuck your tongue out at him. He chuckled and put an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

After some convincing, Pete agreed to join you in bed. At first he laid a respectable distance away from you, but you moved close to him and placed your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your hair as your eyes became too heavy to stay open.

“You’ll regret this in the morning,” he murmured. “Or forget it completely.”

“Maybe,” you said, “but let’s wait for the morning to decide that.”

~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning you groaned in pain. Your head felt heavy and like it had been stabbed by multiple little needles. You opened your eyes but had to shut them again immediately, hissing at the pain that small action caused.

Why the fuck did I drink so much last night? you questioned as you braced yourself and opened your eyes again.

You found yourself alone in bed, which didn’t seem too unusual until you remembered that you hadn’t been alone when you fell asleep. Pete had been there, more specifically he had been cuddling you.

You’ll regret this in the morning, you recalled him saying before you drifted off to sleep. You wondered if he had left before you had the chance to decide how you felt about the events of the night before.

You popped two Aspirin pills into your mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. You pulled yourself out of bed and slowly walked out of your room, the only speed you could manage in this state. You were halfway to your kitchen when you realized you were smelling something; bacon. You wondered where the smell was coming from, and didn’t have to look far to get the answer.

Pete was stood by your stove, two plates full of eggs and toast already sat next to him. When he heard you enter, he turned and greeted you with a smile.

“Good morning sleeping beauty!” he said. His loud voice pierced your ears and you quickly covered them and groaned. He chuckled. “You poor thing, you’re gonna hate today.”

“I already do,” you said. “Is that for me?”

He looked down at the plate of breakfast. “One of them is, yeah. Do you think you can keep it down?”

“I can try.”

The two of you sat at your dining room table and began to eat. Although your stomach still didn’t feel right, the food was definitely soaking up whatever alcohol was left in your system and thus was making the splitting headache you had subside just a little bit.

There was an awkward silence looming over the two of you. Despite what you thought the night before, you could still remember every detail; the emotional conversation, the kiss, the cuddling, how you felt when the latter two things were happening. You knew Pete remembered because he certainly wasn’t as fucked up as you were.

“Do you regret it?” you found yourself suddenly asking.

Pete looked up from his breakfast, fake confusion on his face. “What do you mean?”

You gave him a look. “Pete, I remember last night. I remember what we did, and what you said before I fell asleep.”

He sighed, turning his attention back to his food. “I don’t know...do you regret it?”

“I don’t,” you admitted. “If anything, I...I feel whatever the opposite of regret is. The only thing I regret is getting so drunk I threw up after we kissed.”

He smiled. “Yeah, that’s not exactly great timing.”

You looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Finally, he looked up at you again and said, “I don’t regret it either.”

“So what do we do now?” you asked.

Pete thought for a moment before saying, “I take you out on a date, one where we’re both completely sober, and we decide if we really want to do this. How does that sound?”

You smiled brightly at him. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”

[watermelonlovershigh]

25 Things I Believe Harry Does for You When You're Sick

AN: i got the inspiration to create this from @finelinevogue except they made one about sex. they or someone else could have made a sick list that i'm unaware of but either way, this is my own take on it so i'm not coping anyone. also, i plan to create a list about things you do when Harry is sick and i may create one on what you and Harry do when your kid(s) are sick. just let me know if you'd be interested in that. (and these situations are not in any order as far as the type of sickness. they are in order at random, whenever a scenario popped into my head.)

This contains: talks of vomit, talks of crying, talks of high fevers, naked boobs

{ husband!harry - married for a year - any solo Harry era - no kids yet }

word count: 1105

25 things Harry does for you when you get sick in different scenarios.

1. Makes sure to never leave you alone and stays with you the entire time, afraid something may happen in the mere seconds he's gone.

2. Sets a four to six hour timer on his phone to remind him its time to give you your next dose of medicine.

3. Wakes up periodically through-out the night and uses the thermometer that just hovers over your forehead so he doesn't have to disrupt your sleeping body, but also makes sure your fever never gets too high.

4. When you mention you have a slight tummy ache, not necessary nauseous but just crampy or feeling a bit upset, Harry will place his big hand flat on your belly and rub soothing circles over your stomach until it settles.

5. Just sit on the cold, hard, bathroom floor with you when you're feeling nauseous and say you must be by a toilet in fear you'll actually be sick. It may hurt Harry's bum and back, but nevertheless is by your side the entire time. Day or night.

6. Gathers your hair in a ponytail as you're throwing up in the toilet, so your hair doesn't get in the way of your gushing vomit.

7. If you have an actual virus and unfortunately are unable to stop puking, Harry will put your hair in one of his signature messy buns (the kind he'd wear when he had long hair), allowing him to hold a cool, wet cloth on the back of your neck and help with your cold sweats that occur.

8. When you have a high fever, he'll strip all your cloths off (except your panties), much to your disliking because you're shivering, and make you lay in bed like that. Just under the blankets with your panties on. No top so your breast are on full display. Well under the covers but nevertheless free from clothes.

9. Remind you that when he married you, he vowed In Sickness and In Health, every time you try and push him away, saying you don't want to get him sick too.

10. Brings a bowl of cold water to the bed where you're laying and dips a washcloth into it, wrings it out, and pats it all over your body when your fever is extremely high and you can't even get proper sleep because of it. (the step Harry takes after stripping your clothes didn't work)

11. When you have a migraine, Harry will shut off all the lights and close all the curtains in the bedroom so it's completely dark. Then he'll get into bed with you and hold you close while you attempt to sleep it off.

12. In the case you accidently puke on the floor (like you didn't make it to the toilet in time), he'll grab all the necessary supplies and clean your sick up off the floor, even though he has weak stomach when handling sick throw up.

13. And when you do puke on the floor by accident, you'll usually end up crying from embarrassment and Harry will comfort you by saying stuff like, "My love, its okay. You couldn't help it." or "Baby, no need to cry. You're just sick is all. I'm not mad. I'll clean it up."

14. When you aren't exactly sick but just aren't feeling well, Harry will cuddle you on the couch, a big fluffy blanket on the both of you, and you'll watch movies until you end up falling asleep on his chest and he then carries you up to bed.

15. When one of your friends knock on yours and Harry's front door in the late hours of the night, bringing you home from a girls-night out, and tells Harry you've kind of been sick on yourself, he'll take your drunken body up the stairs and strip off all your clothes until you're completely naked. Then he'll get naked himself and set you on the shower floor to help wash the vomit from your hair and body with the detachable shower head.

16. Cook you homemade chicken soup when you come down with a common cold.

17. Will insist on feeding you the soup he cooked with a spoon, you sitting upright in bed.

18. Holds you to his body when you start crying out that you feel like you're gonna be sick but don't want to be. Harry will say something like, "It's okay if you need to be sick, love. It's better out than in." or "Y/n, if you get sick it might make your stomach feel better. How about we go in the bathroom and you try for me."

19. Will drop what he's doing and come pick you up from your job when you get sick at work.

20. On the way home from picking you up from work because you're sick, Harry will pull off to the side of the road when you moan you're about to throw up. Once stopped, you fling your door open and he quickly steps out the drivers seat and walks around the car to be at your side and comfort you as you're bent over and puking on the grass.

21. On a day that you have sweated from a fever or a cold sweat, he'll run you a warm bath and depending on if you want him to or not, will get into the tub with you and gently helps you bathe off. If you request to be in the tub alone, he'll knell outside the bathtub and bathe you from there.

22. Make sure you keep hydrated at all times, afraid you'll get dehydrated from puking or sweating off your bodies water.

23. Force you to eat something even though you beg Harry not to make you because you fear you'll just throw it back up. And in the cases you do end up throwing the food he made you eat back up, he'll place a bucket in your lap so you don't have to make a run for it to the bathroom.

24. Goes to the store in the middle of the night and picks you up some cold medicine. Along with a box of tissues for your runny nose and some Powerade for your hydration. Maybe even pick up a stuffed animal for you to snuggle.

25. In the case that Harry is in the studio when you get sick, as soon as you call him, he drops everything and comes home immediately to care for you.

My Masterlist Masterpost

[utakoi]

Office Yandere HCs

Pairings: Assistant!Izuku Midoriya, Investor!Shoto Todoroki, Chauffeur!Hitoshi Shinso x Boss!Fem!reader

Summary: Ever wonder what it would be like to be the boss of some office yanderes and basically have a harem? Well, look no further, cause here it is!

Warnings: smut !!18+ ONLY!! (spunking in food + masturbation + dirty thoughts + oral), yandere themes (noncon)

A/N: Bc my brain kept me up at night with this concept and has made it’s final decision on turning a one shot I was in the middle of writing into a series, I decided to write some messy hcs to take a lil breather from long works (evn tho this is kinda long already). Also, if you think this is the last you’ll hear about office yanderes, no no no, I have some other thoughts for other characters

Assistant!Midoriya Izuku

He is over the moon to hold a position that’s the closest to you

Out of your entire yandere office harem, he gets to spend the most time with you

He also definitely has an advantage since he practically schedules your entire day

For example, Shoto constantly tries to schedule one-on-one meetings with you in the guise of it being a matter of business, but Izuku cock blocks him by filling your day with a bunch of other events in order to make the meetings as short as possible, and sometimes, even cuts them out completely

He doesn’t like doing it often tho since he knows you can get too stressed with too much going on so he reluctantly has to give away some time for you to meet with the other yanderes (he’s still kind of a sweet and considerate bby as a yandere)

Will not give you personal space

Stands close to you during meetings, constantly visits your office to work (even tho his personal office is right next to yours), etc etc

Even if you don’t ask him to, he will fetch your meals and give you snacks throughout the day because he wants to take care of you and show how sweet he is (also because he wants you to imagine how good of a boyfriend he’d be if you just gave him a chance)

Now let’s get to the part that just popped up into my mind and inspired this entire post: if he can hide his cum somewhere in your food, he will do it

That coffee he gave you that tasted a little salty? Izuku spunked inside it.

The sandwich he bought that seemed to have more mayo than usual? He spunked in that, too

Whatever you think doesn’t taste right, it’s definitely because of Izuku

// // // // //

Izuku is thankful for his job because of two specific things: he gets to interact with you for most of the day and his office has a built in personal bathroom.

If he were to be forced to use the regular employee restroom, his lewd acts would have been exposed immediately by anyone who happened to walk in; he was never the best at holding his moans and grunts while jacking himself off after all.

In the privacy of his own bathroom, he could be as loud as he wants with both his breathy, pleasure-ridden voice and the slick sounds of him stroking his lube-covered cock. In fact, he’s even trying to be as loud as possible. 

Since your office is right next to his, there’s a small chance that you may be able to hear him through the walls. He can visualize you entering his office, concern decorating your features, wondering what he could possibly be doing to make such noises. If you were to open his bathroom door, you’d be met by the sight of Izuku sitting on the lid of the toilet, his hand vigorously pumping up and down his shaft. 

And he wouldn’t stop.

He’d just keep going, all the while staring at you right in the eye. He wonders what you’d do then. Would you just stay frozen at your spot, being unable to take your eyes off of him? Or maybe you’d get on your knees, completely turned on and ready to have a taste of his cum? What if you were actually more dominant than he thought and you’d just dig your heels into his dick, punishing him for slacking off his job by not letting him find release?

Fuck, any of those scenarios would be fine by him. 

Unfortunately, as he gets close to reaching his peak, you don’t come into his office at all. That’s alright, though.

He’ll just settle with spunking into your coffee, for now.

Investor!Shoto Todoroki

Needs your attention

Like I said earlier, Shoto will keep trying to schedule meetings with you in the guise of it being a matter of business 

really, he just wants to spend time with you

During the meetings, he will also try to convince you to fire Izuku so that he can get rid of who he deems as someone deliberately keeping the two of you apart (which, for once, is a pretty spot on theory from Shoto)

Will try to spoil you with gifts and make excuses or pass it off as a casual thing so you don’t reject it or deem it as inappropriate for a workplace relationship

The beautiful bouquet of flowers? He was buying flowers for his mother on the way over and  the flower shop had a 2 for 1 deal so why not?

These gourmet chocolates? A fellow business partner of his gave him a box as thanks for his investment. Unfortunately, he’s allergic to one of the ingredients, but it would just be a waste to throw them out, no?

This exquisite diamond necklace? weLL-

You get the point (also, these gifts are definitely inspired by romance movies he saw his sister watching while growing up cuz oof he did not know any means of romance until he met you)

He aims to schedule his meetings with you around lunch time so that he has an excuse to treat you for lunch

He loves providing for you AKA he loves providing for you and showing off how he has the means to take care of you (much like Izuku)

If you were to become his wife, you wouldn’t have to work another day in your life

You can just stay at home and relax

Maybe you can even cook him breakfast and pack lunch for him before he works

That’s basically his dream

He wants you to stay home, waiting for your sweet husband to come back from work

Basically, he’ll take care of your every need, and he means EVERY need

// // // // //

It’s one of those nights again.

Shoto can’t sleep because he’s plagued by thoughts of you. Today, you weren’t able to meet him for lunch because you already had a flood of other appointments to attend (he was willing to bet his entire fortune that it’s because of your stupid assistant’s scheduling that you weren’t able to make it). 

So, needless to say, he was pent up. He can only hop that you fall in love with him sooner. Did his charms just not work on you? Do you not like the cool stoic type? Maybe he just wasn’t giving you the right gifts. Were they not expensive enough to impress you? Not expensive enough to show he could provide for you?

He knows he can take care of you so well. You would never have to work another day in your life. You can just stay home, surrounded by luxurious gifts and servants who’ll be at your beck and call while you wait for his return. 

And once he actually did come home after a long day of work? You’d be bathed in affection. Kisses, hugs, cuddles... and more.

You’d want him just as much as he wants you, right? 

His poor wife, lonely and deprived of the one person she loves for such long hours. He’s got to show that he’s sorry for neglecting you. 

Pushing you down onto the bed, he’d run his hands all over your body, massaging your shoulders, pinching your hardening nipples, brushing over your sensitive thighs... And since he’s also quite needy, he’d be grinding down his still-clothed cock on your pussy, showing off that he’s missed you, too.

Shoto doesn’t even think he’d have the patience to take off your clothes. He’d just keep dry humping you, desperate for his own release. The thin cloth preventing the both of you from making actual skin-on-skin contact would make such great friction. He can practically feel it now.

... And yup, the feeling was definitely not just from his imagination. Without even needing to glance down, Shoto already knows that his thoughts of you has caused him to pop a boner. 

Hopefully, a quick jerk off session can tire him out enough to fall asleep, but with how much his hard cock throbbed, he doubted it.

Chauffeur!Hitoshi Shinso

2nd most envied out of your office harem for his job (he’s right next to Izuku)

Why? Well 1 - he gets one on one time with you daily and 2 - that one on one time is him and you in an enclosed space

Sure, he may not get as much time with you as the others, but he sure makes the best use of it

He’ll be chatting you up, getting to know you personally in order to make the atmosphere less awkward between the two of you (tbh, because he gives off standoffish and cold vibes, y’all are gonna be kinda tense when he’s just gotten his job as a chauffeur)

and he does it so discreetly

He’ll start the conversation of lightly, talking about the weather, how busy you’re going to be that day...

and then somehow it just transitions onto friendlier and more personal topics such as your favorite places to eat, what hobbies you’ve been trying out lately, etc

And he uses that info to his advantage

If he senses that you’re feeling stressed or down, he will drive you over to your favorite places and remind you that you should relax

But not only does he get brownie points for that, but would you really be so mean as to make him wait for you while you eat a meal or walk around the mall when he’s the one who’s trying so hard to cheer you up?

Of course not, you’re going to invite him and thank him for considering how you’re feeling

And if not, well, that’s okay, too, he understands (so long as he gets his brownie points)

As the boss of your own company, you’d often be asked out to meetings or social gatherings that involve drinking

Shinso’s always there whenever you get shit faced, and happily so

You’re drunk and you’re not gonna remember it the next morning, anyway... so why would he waste such a golden opportunity?

// // // // //

Shit, you feel great on his body.

Currently, Shinso is living out one of the best moments of his life. He’d come to pick you up from a drinking session with some investors and was ecstatic to find you drunk out of your mind. Hell, you could barely even slur out your orders for him to drive you home. Now, you’re pressed up against him as he holds you up and guides you to the car. 

Testing out the waters, he cheekily squeezes the flesh of your ass. If you were conscious enough to reprimand him for it, then he could easily just apologize and pass it off as an accident since you were stumbling around so much. 

And if you didn’t mention anything... well then, that was the single indicator he needed to know that you wouldn’t remember anything once you woke up in the morning. 

To his delight, you barely reacted to his touch and even let out a high-pitched giggle at his actions. As quickly as he possibly could, he opens up the back of the limousine and pushes you inside. You plop down onto the seat with a huff, completely inebriated. 

You don’t even register when Shinso crawls in and nudges himself in between your legs. 

When the door slams shut, you flinch a little, prompting Shinso to massage your thighs in an attempt to soothe you. He gazes at you lovingly as you look down at him with your dilated pupils. Fuck, you look way too innocent and adorable for what he’s about to do. 

Quick with his hands, he pulls down your waistband and completely exposes your sex. Before diving into his meal, he places light kisses that trail from your calf all the way up to your thighs. He wishes he could leave marks on your skin, but he wouldn’t want you to panic the next morning when you see clusters of purple and blue spread out all over your legs. 

He eats you out like a man starved, slobbering all over your pussy. All the while, you’re making such cute noises for him. When you gush all over his face, he’s happily lapping it all up, trying not to waste a single drop. 

Once you’ve come down, he dresses you back up as if nothing happened, which, in your mind tomorrow, nothing did. 

Shinso hesitates when he’s about to slide the panties back onto you. Maybe he could get away with just a little souvenir?

[jungcherie]

Sweat and Heat

—𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: johnny x reader

—𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 1.2K

—𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: smut

—𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: unprotected sex , fingering, oral (male receiving)

—𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: He fucked you once and now he's calling you because he can't get you out of his head.

—𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖮𝖥 𝖯𝖫𝖤𝖠𝖲𝖴𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

It seems that all the energies and forces of the universe had come together to make this day the most exhausting and tiring of your week. You had plans to get home early but everything was ruined, now at almost midnight, you were in the car of one of your colleagues heading home. The headache became more intense as he spoke and you no longer had the strength to ask him to shut up.

Fed up with his words, you got out of his car muttering a small and inaudible 'goodbye', without looking at him and walking reluctantly towards your home, you yearned with all your whole being to take a good hot bath and sleep at least until 12 p.m. the next day. Unfortunately for you, after taking off all your clothes and preparing the water, someone knocked. You rolled your eyes and decided to ignore it because was probably your colleague, but the knocks became insistent and you had no choice but to go in a robe to open the door.

"What the fuck do—" you stopped mid-sentence to realize it wasn't who you expected, you couldn't do anything but open your eyes in surprise because the apology didn't come out of your mouth. The tall man in front of you had a small smile on his face, clearly amused by the situation, and by your expression as well. "Hi to you too"

The guy you fucked last week was here again.

"You need something?" You asked tired, you didn't even apologize. "Johnny I don't mean to sound rude but—"

"You're tired" he interrupts you, finishing what you were about to say. "I can see" you sighed leaning on the door watching him. "I've lost my ring and I'm pretty sure it's here."

You didn't say anything and you let him pass. Even though you barely knew Johnny, he had stayed the night and hadn't had any behavior that made you suspect he was a bad guy. "To be honest, I didn't find any of your rings" you said standing on the doorframe and watching him bend over to look under your bed. "I don't even remember if you were wearing rings"

Johnny was laughing internally, he doesn't use them, he just wanted a good excuse to see you again. "Go take your bath" he indicated, looking directly at you. "When I find my ring I can give you a massage if you want" You closed your eyes in satisfaction and sighed, Johnny's offer was too tempting to say no. "That sounds great."

Without hesitation, you took off your robe and plunged into the warm water, relaxing all your muscles. It didn't take long for Johnny to appear, curiously with a ring on his finger. "You found it?" you asked with your eyes closed after taking a look at it. He laughed nervously. "Yeah"

Next, he sat on the toilet, you knew it even if you weren't looking. "You promised me a massage" you said amused. Johnny laughed again and leaned closer to you as you settled yourself to give him your back. Your chest coming into contact with the air while the other half of your body was still submerged. The cold made bristle your nipples, Johnny didnt overlook them and the feeling he had kept all week was present under his pants.

His large hands touched your shoulders, little by little applying pressure and movement in different directions. You sighed when you felt the good work he was doing.

"You didn't come for your ring" you let out, with a smirk. Of course you knew, if he had forgotten something at your house, he would have come the next day, not almost a week later. Also, you weren't that drunk that night, you remembered well that Johnny didn't have any accessories, except for the earrings. "What did you come for, Johnny?"

His breath near your ear gave you goosebumps, his voice aroused memories and sensations. "Look" he started, brushing his nose on your neck. "I don't know what kind of black magic you've done to me," Johnny continued on his way and kissed one of your shoulders. "But despite being really drunk, I remember we did it even with the lights on"

You turned around, now being face to face. "Why don't you join me?"

Johnny obeyed you, you watched him shamelessly, as he took off his clothes, one by one, but once he was totally naked, he was standing, while you were still sitting in the bathtub, his hard cock in front of you, begging for attention.

You looked at him once before running your tongue down his entire length, savoring the precum that came from his tip. Johnny couldn't do anything but moan in satisfaction at the warmth of your mouth. He quickly caressed your face and made sure no hair interfered with what you were doing, you dedicated yourself to sucking his dick the best you could with the help of one of your hands. Johnny increased the grip on your hair and made you stop moving your head, and with your mouth still open, he started swinging his hips, controlling and holding the in and out of his erection.

Your jaw was getting tired, however seeing Johnny's face of pleasure was worth the pain. One last thrust, his cock deep in your throat and tears in your eyes, he left you and crouched down at your height. "Enough for me, it's time for both of us"

Johnny took you by your ass making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both left a path of water from the bathroom to your room. "I feel cold" you said when you felt the cold breeze hitting your naked body. "I can fix that"

With the help of the wall, he removed one of his hands to direct it towards your folds, clearly the heat began to invade you and the goosebumps were no longer due to the sudden change in temperature between air and water.

"I know you want it" says Johnny with his forehead resting on yours, the lopsided smile meant he was having fun. "I know you feel the same way I do. Come on, don't be shy."

"Fuck me" you whispered. "What did you say?" he asks still rubbing your clit, you took him by the cheeks, looking him straight in the eyes. "Fuck me, Johnny"

No words to say, he obeyed and plunged his entire length, causing you to let out a high-pitched groan. You kissed him, trying to shut up yourself and not get complaints from the neighbors the next morning, you had forgotten how thick this guy was and how good he felt inside you.

Your back was bumping against the wall and your chest was almost glued to his. He couldn't resist and he went down your neck, and then down to your breasts to catch one of your nipples with his mouth, sucking and biting, his tongue playing with it. Your nails were digging into his shoulders in response, his thrusts wouldn't stop, you were already to become undone.

"Johnny, I'm coming" you moaned, unable to speak normally. "Then come for me"

You kissed each other before making eye contact and finally feeling your orgasm come, a couple of thrusts later, you felt his warm cum filling you up.

All your muscles relaxed, the headache disappeared and you slept like a baby next to a man you met a week ago in a bar.