#I think i'm actually just too much tired but that fine

[fairyhaos]

❖ i am all of you // lee jihoon

woozi x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: requested by @mirxzii, established relationship, producer!woozi, scriptwriter!yn, hurt/comfort

warnings: pet names (babe, darling), food mention

summary: on the days you feel exhausted, lost to the clouds of fear and fatigue, you wonder whether anything in the world will ever be fine again. not to worry, though. because jihoon always finds you, and he brings you home.

Jihoon kind of misses you. 

Okay, that's a lie, because he actually misses you a lot, because even though you're right here and you say hello to him in the morning and you eat your meals together and you say “I love you” to him at night, you're still not… here. 

You get like this, sometimes, where you're all stuck in your head and he can't get you out. Anything he says doesn't seem to register, not really, because you'll hum in response before drifting away again to somewhere he can't reach. 

“Y/N?”

Jihoon knocks on your door, gentle. You emerged from your room to have breakfast, but you've been stuck inside ever since, and, well. It's like he said. 

He kind of misses you a lot. 

“Jihoon?”

“Are you okay in there?” he asks. “Just checking up on you, babe. I haven't heard from you in a while.”

“I'm okay,” you say back, and even though you're only on the other side of the door, you sound distant. “I'm just tired, that's all.”

He hums, sceptical. “Are you sure? Can I come in?”

“I don't see why not,” you say, and he opens the door and cautiously peers inside. 

You’re lying in bed, pillows propped up behind your head, quite literally doing nothing other than staring emptily up at the ceiling. When Jihoon enters the room, you look over in response to the sound and wave at him from the bed looking confused but also very, very exhausted, and something in his heart twists sadly.

He walks over to you, leans over, and presses a hand to your forehead. You look up in confusion, going a little cross-eyed as you try to see his hand on your head. 

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for a fever,” Jihoon responds matter-of-factly. He takes his hand away, presses it against his own forehead before feeling yours once again. 

“Hey, hey, I'm fine,” you say, waving his hand away. “I'm not sick.”

“Then why are you in bed?” he says. “It's so sunny today, Y/N. Normally, you'd be the one pestering me to get out of bed so we can go on those walks that you love so much. What's wrong, Y/N? Can you please tell me what's wrong?”

You fall silent, looking away. 

See, he thinks he kind of knows what's wrong. 

Not the exact reason, of course, but he knows that you're getting this tired and withdrawn from him because there's something in your life that's making you overwhelmed. Whether it's a situation that's happened or something you fear will happen in the future, if it scares you enough then you'll end up retreating in this way. 

Jihoon knows it's your way of coping when things get too much, but it frustrates him, because all he wants to do is take care of you but you won't let him in. 

“Please,” he says. Gently, simply. “Can you tell me what's wrong so that I can help?”

So he asks. He asks, and waits so, so patiently, silently begging you to please let him in. 

You slowly shake your head. 

“Nothing's wrong,” you say, and then shrug, like everything's fine. “I just need to take a nap.”

“I had to wake you up at noon for breakfast, today,” Jihoon points out, frowning. “And it's four in the afternoon. Why do you need a nap?”

You just shake your head again. “I just do.”

He opens his mouth, ready to refute, but you abruptly pull the covers over yourself and bury your head into your pillow again. A clear sign you want to end the conversation. 

“Goodbye, Jihoon,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets, and Jihoon sighs. 

“I'll let you know when dinner is ready, okay?” he says, and you make a soft noise in reply. He looks over at you again, before walking out of your room and closing the door. 

───────────── ⛅

It’s only thirty minutes later that he knocks on your door again.

He can’t help it. You two aren’t exactly the clingiest couple in the world: what with Jihoon’s work and your busy life, you can’t really afford to be so codependent. There have been days where you barely speak to each other, both absorbed in projects that take up all your time and leave you unable to indulge in the typical cuddly affection that other couples take part in.

This is what happens, he supposes, when a music producer and scriptwriter decide to date. Not that he minds, because he loves you, and he knows you love him too, and neither of you mind the lack of physical touch because often, the knowledge of that love is enough.

Just because you’re not the clingiest doesn’t mean that he likes not spending time with you, though.

Especially when you’re right there.

“Y/N? I’m coming in,” he says, and opens the door before you can answer. You’re lying in exactly the same position that he’d left you in, and you look over as the door opens again with a mildly annoyed expression on your face, as if Jihoon was interrupting your very precious time of doing absolutely nothing.

The mild irritation melts into confusion as you spot the things he’s holding. “Why did you bring your laptop with you?”

“Laptop and chocolate,” Jihoon emphasises, holding up the bag of chocolate coins in his other hand as he pushes the door shut with his elbow. “I’m here to do my work. And give you chocolate. Move over, will you?”

You give him a curious look, but still obediently shuffle over in bed so that he can climb in and sit there beside you, back against the headboard, opening up his laptop and immediately clicking on his emails. He doesn’t look at you, seemingly absorbed in answering whatever is sitting in his inbox, the bag of chocolate plopped onto the covers between you two.

“Jihoon?”

Jihoon hums in response.

“What are you doing?”

He glances at you briefly, and pats your head. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to drag you into doing anything. Just pretend I’m not here, okay?” He goes back to his work, and then adds, “Oh, and eat the chocolate.”

You furrow your brow, mystified by his behaviour. This is… weird. You’ve had episodes like this before, where the foreboding lump in your throat joins forces with the anxiety that sits, ice-cold, in your chest, and you end up with a bone-deep exhaustion that leaves you terrified to do anything at all. Every time, Jihoon seems to understand, leaving you to your own devices to work through the fatigue until you feel better. He might bring you soup, or remind you to brush your teeth, but never anything like this.

The soft click-clacking of his keyboard is quite soothing, you’ll admit, but it’s still not quite enough for you to stop teetering on the edge of this crushing exhaustion and finally sleep.

“Jihoon,” you murmur, looking up at him again. “Jihoon, seriously, what are you doing?”

His fingers stop moving, and he looks over at you once more, before looking at the untouched bag of chocolate coins. Wordlessly, he opens it, unwraps one, and presses it against your lips. 

“I’m feeding you chocolate coins,” he says, and something about the deadpan way he says it makes you smile, allowing him to push the chocolate into your mouth. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“No, I can see that,” you say around a mouthful of sticky, warm sweetness. Hm. Eating it makes the weight in your chest feel a little lighter, actually. “I just…”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow at you, but there’s no unkindness in his expression. He unwraps another chocolate for you, and you dutifully eat it, letting the overwhelming sweetness coat your teeth as you melt it down in your mouth, making the most of the taste.

“What are you doing here, though?” you ask, as your boyfriend deposits the metal wrappers on the bedside table next to him. “Babe, if you’re here to take care of me… it’s okay. I’m fine.”

He looks at you again, and smiles. “Silly. I’m not here to look after you.”

Wait, what?

“You can do whatever you need to do,” Jihoon continues, as he goes back to his laptop and starts click-clacking away again. “Rest, sleep, try to turn yourself invisible, whatever. You do you, darling. I’m just here because I want to spend time with you.”

“Jihoon,” you breathe out, touched. You are certain that there are stars in your eyes. “Jihoon, I love you.”

He chuckles, and finishes sending off the email. He jostles you around in bed for a moment, pulling you close until you’re resting against him, and though the position is uncomfortable, you don’t protest.

“I love you too,” he says, patting your head affectionately. “Now, don’t worry about what I’m doing, alright? Just let me spend time with you.”

Jihoon may pretend otherwise, but he really is soft. He gives and he gives and he gives, always, and that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s giving you all of him, under the pretence that he’s doing this for himself but you know him, know him like the other half of your heart, and your chest squeezes at how gentle he is with you, especially now. When you’re at your most vulnerable.

And instead of getting frustrated at your distance, at how far away you were floating from him, he brings your back down to Earth, pretending it’s all for him but you know, you know that he’s bringing you back to safety for you.

Pressed up against him, leaning into his side, you finally let yourself cry, the hot, stinging tears tracing paths down your cheeks. Jihoon doesn’t say anything, and instead pulls you closer, fingers threading through your hair as you cry quietly against him until you tire yourself out fully and there are no tears left for you to cry anymore. 

It’s kind of cathartic—freeing, the way you let yourself succumb to the exhaustion, comforted by the knowledge that Jihoon is there beside you as your tears die down, and you lie there beside him, taking deep, shaky breaths, heartbeat finally slowing down.

And at last, you close your eyes and sleep.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @melodicrabbit

#fairyhaos.works #k-labels #svt #seventeen #woozi #jihoon #seventeen fic #woozi fic #svt fic #svt woozi #svt x reader #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #lee jihoon #woozi x you #jihoon x you #seventeen x you #woozi x y/n #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen woozi #seventeen jihoon #svt jihoon #seventeen lee jihoon #svt lee jihoon #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #woozi fluff #jihoon fluff #woozi imagines

[goldenavenger02]

how about "trying to wake them up" with lloyd after he kinda died in march of the oni?

Just a thought tho you dont have to do it if you dont like the point

"I'm tired, Kai."

Kai knew that he wasn't just talking about the concussion-induced exhaustion; he was all too familiar with the weary feeling in his bones that had been lingering for years, the way it wormed under his skin at the first sign of pulling in one, peace-filled breath and begged him to sleep.

For @badthingshappenbingo. Prompt: trying to wake them up

Kai's hands trembled as he helped lift Lloyd's body out of the rubble; his all too still body, not making a single noise or movement even when they laid him onto the stone floor.

His mind repeated 'not again, not again' as he desperately looked for signs of life and came back empty-handed.

He hadn't been able to contain himself when he watched Cole fall, but as he found himself pleading with Lloyd to wake up, his heart felt still in his own chest.

'Come on, Lloyd…'

He backed away when Master Wu rushed over and wrapped his hand around Lloyd's wrist, hoping for an answer when Jay asked, "you can do something, right?" only for his entire mouth to dry out as he was met with a look of defeat despite their overarching victory.

"There is nothing to be done."

Kai's hand drifted to Master Wu's shoulder as his own breathing hitched; he couldn't bring himself to look at Lloyd's face, his mind would just insist on him shaking him and trying to prove to him that he was just asleep.

Until he heard a gasp that had him looking right at Lloyd's face, unable to stop his mind from saying 'come on, Lloyd.'

Then Lloyd pulled in deep breaths interspersed with coughs that sent Kai to his knees as he set one of his hands on Lloyd's leg, unable to stop his eyes from watering as he sent a 'thank you' into the sky with the hope that for the first time, The First Spinjitzu Master had listened to him.

…

"Hey. Can you move him?"

Kai looked up at Jay from the couch, the left half of his body occupied with being a cushion for Lloyd, "why?"

"The new episode of Twisted Hearts came out yesterday-"

"You have a tv in your room and I'm on concussion duty," he sat up straighter to get a better look at Jay in the dim light, "do you know how hard it is to move him when he's asleep?"

"Do you want your sister in my bedroom?"

Kai huffed, rubbed a hand over his face and pointed as he spoke, "you're a jerk, you know that?" He got a smug smile in return that had him gently resting a hand on Lloyd's shoulder, "greenie, time to go to your own bed."

He got a groan in response as he curled closer to him, forcing Kai to gently shake the shoulder his hand was on, "come on, you need Tylenol anyway. Up."

At least this time he got a defiant "no" as his eyes stayed firmly closed.

"Lloyd, as much as you enjoy using me as a pillow, you really need to sleep in your own bed, it's…" he paused, looking back up at Jay, "time?"

There was a pause as Jay pulled his phone out of his pocket before saying, "eleven thirty."

Kai thought it was nine, time hadn't passed right since he thought he felt his own heart stop in the court- 'don't think about it.'

"It is way past your bedtime, kid. Last chance before I let Jay take over." He warned, knowing that he wouldn't be pulled off the couch legs first with a concussion, but the threat was enough to finally get him blinking himself awake, green eyes squinted with the first few minutes of waking up.

"Fine, 'm up," he groaned, rubbing his eyes, "mean."

"Well, Jay and Nya want to watch their dumb TV show-"

"It's not dumb! If you actually watched Twisted Hearts, then you'd understand the complexity of-"

"And," Kai started, cutting off Jay's yelling which was probably for the best with how Lloyd had winced at the volume, "you're still on a screen ban which means you need to lay down in your own bed."

Lloyd blinked. Once, twice and then an exhausted sounding "okay" as he used the couch arm to shakingly pull himself to his feet.

Kai rested his hand on his shoulder to guide him to his bedroom, trying not to think about how Lloyd looked like he was about to fall over with every step 'not breathing, not moving, not respond- don't think about it.'

He guided Lloyd to his bed, waiting until he sat and pulled his legs up before turning away to grab the Tylenol bottle from the nightstand and shake out two of the white pills into his hand.

"Sit up for a sec," Kai pressed, waiting until Lloyd propped himself on his elbows to press the pills into his hand, "I'll be right back with some water, don't fall asleep."

"I'm tired, Kai."

Kai knew that he wasn't just talking about the concussion-induced exhaustion; he was all too familiar with the weary feeling in his bones that had been lingering for years, the way it wormed under his skin at the first sign of pulling in one, peace-filled breath and begged him to sleep.

Not rest, but sleep. There was a large difference in Kai's head; rest was productive, sleep was forever.

'Lloyd's all too still body, not making a single noise or movement even when they laid him onto the stone floor.'

"I know, Lloyd." he said, finally forcing himself to twist the doorknob and go to the kitchen in search of a glass of water.

As he held the cup under the flow in the sink, he tried his best to shake the weight from his shoulders; this wasn't the first time he forced himself to get past it by avoiding it, and he also knew that it wouldn't be the last.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #my writing #fic #angst #trying to wake them up #lloyd garmadon #kai ninjago #post march of the oni #near major character death #heavy angst #jay walker #minor religious trauma

[galadrail]

Okay I definitely have a problem with Disney and merlin BBC but listen it works too well

Anyway, I just thought of a mix where Arthur would be hercule and merlin megara.

And do you see the song where megara sings with the goddesses? [ I won't say (I'm in love)] Imagine merlin, gwaine, lancelot and gwen instead of the goddesses.

I swear it works really well (yes uther is zeus and gaius is hades and morgana and mordred as the little demons with him)

#bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fandom #hercules #Hercule the movie #disney #Ok so I just don't know why but here #Disney x BBC merlin #That my new obsession #Yeah I don't really like hercule actually but I just had the song in my mind and I was reading a merthur fic and boum the idea is here #I think i'm actually just too much tired but that fine #so yeah #Just take that idea #All my life I really like syrup #Yeah i'm just being crazy now

[olliesneweyes]

still thinking abt the wreck that is train!andrew's office once he falls asleep at the desk tbh because godd i love imagining messy workaholic offices

conductors also kind of do everything on the train, like they oversee the other train employees, take payments for boarding, check the tickets, make sure passengers are safe and comfortable, etc etc so he is. SO exhausted probably

i think bc to me this andrew is kind of. stoic and polite (he would still melt if you were nice to him i think) he doesn't have many signs other than getting slightly more unkempt and i think his hands shake REALLY bad w sleep deprivation, or he seems like he's focusing on not literally just crinkling to the ground and fifudhf anywaybi really like traindrew

i watched about 22 mins of the first murder on the nord express gameplay vid btw and i'm gonna cry both victor and andrew are so djfjfj

Exactly!!

#he's like. pacing and stuff near the end #because if he stood still who knows what'd happen #(he'd fall asleep) #also I'm thinking maybe Andrew is suddenly without other staff on the train without rhyme or reason #to add more similarities to the actual oletus #so he's probably even MORE overworked because he's taking it on himself to do everything #and he says he's fine but you can start to see him sway a little when he stands #or disguise yawning by breathing heavily #or take a few seconds to register anything that's said to him #meanwhile Andrew just wants to go to the safety of bed but he doesn't have a bed on the train #and he doesn't think to use an employee one #until someone tells him to #he absolutely would melt if you were nice to him #and I think if he's pretty awake it's subtle (just smiling and being a bit affectionate and maybe a tear or two) #but if he's tired it's probably really obvious that it means so much to him (maybe... too much for such a simple gesture) #i think affection is probably the biggest difference because if you hugged him while he was fully alert #he'd just return it mutely but you'd be able to see the sadness when you let go because why do these things have to be so short? #and if he's tired he wouldn't accept affection unless he sat down first #which seems a bit weird but it's VERY clear why when you actually do because he just flops onto you like a limp noodle #he's not good at hiding how much he wants this at ALL #he's probably crying too out of joy #congrats bucko you're cuddling this man until he falls asleep otherwise he'll be extremely sad (it only takes like 2-5 minutes you're fine) #idv #godddddd Andrew Kreiss my beloved

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?

#i didnt really get to process it bc i found out when i was hanging w a friend but. im processing it now #sigh.. i dont know. i dont know. #at the end of the day he is and has always been someone else's cat. i can't control what she does with him #no matter what i think of it. she can always take him away. but every time it happens im just. im tired yknow? #it's worth it to me to have him around. i love him dearly and i want him to be in a home where he's actually cared for (which i have done my #best to provide) but he's just. not mine. and every time it happens i back up and think man. im such a sucker. #i don't think people manipulate me often. not in an ongoing way i mean. i don't think ppl see me as valuable enough to most of the time. #but damn. she really found my weak spots didn't she. free petcare courtesy of one chump who can't live without animals around. sigh #he deserves stability but he deserves love more. this weird shared custody thing is better for him i think. and frankly i also love him. #im not the priority here but my feelings are like. there. him being taken away without even telling me first hurts. i'd like to be able to #say goodbye to him. im not saying he has to stay or this has to go on but couldn't they just.. consider my feelings a bit more? #just bc you're fine with dropping your cat off somewhere for weeks not knowing when you'll see him again and not visiting doesn't mean i am #and i kind of feel like my roommate is part of this. after all it's not like his owner can just break into our room and take him #and if im always out when they do it there's a chance roomie's just shipping him off whenever she gets sick of him. #she's done it before. even after she agreed so vehemently with me about never wanting him to go back to such treatment and stuff early on. #she's been spraying him for little reason lately too. and i mean i get being a little more cautious with some things bc her neck's broken #but she's really fixated on how much he smells and bites and stuff and talks about how if i wasn't around she'd consider eating him #and then other times she's like that's my pookie. i don't get it. like yeah i tell rascal to fuck off sometimes bc he hurts me but it's not #like a hateful thing. i dont resent him for it i'm just annoyed sometimes bc he's maiming me a little. he's my baby. how could i loathe him? #so it makes me think that roomie might be blaming his transfers on his owner bc she doesn't want me to judge her #and like. this is her room too. it's not her fault she's more bothered by the smell than me. if she doesn't want to be bitten and clawed all #the time i can sympathize. i don't wanna force her to house him. but i wish she'd just be honest with me i guess #like. what if his owner decides to give him away without telling me? i'd take him in in a heartbeat. even though i know it's a bad idea. #but i'm worried he'll fall out of my reach completely. and at the very least I'd like to be able to say goodbye first. that's all.

[thebirdandhersong]

💙

#not to be miserable once again but i simply Hate feeling alone in a group of people #and sometimes it is just so lonely here even though there are a number of us in this student residence #we had a small prayer and worship meeting tonight and i was quite happy about that #because people in smaller groups are easier to talk to #but turns out i CAN indeed feel acutely lonely in a five person group! #probably made it worse!!! #if you pray for EVERYONE in the group except me during your turn of course i will notice. like what does that accomplish #and conversations about people and past events and inside jokes i dont know about are fine i like listening #but the actual lack of eye contact from everyone is super obvious when i'm sitting Right There #SORRY shall delete this at a later date i am just. so sad again #every time i think i'm making headway and making friends here at last something like this happens #and i'm reminded once again that people just don't want me here #too tired to cry but seriously!! i'm so sick of being lonely and i wish i weren't so hung up on making friends #when it is so clear sometimes that people just want to stick to their old friends and their existing circles #i SHALL grin and bear it. my word i will NOT let this make me hard and unkind #but goodness it is just so much of a struggle when i've been in this position again and again in every new community i enter

[noxtivagus]

i'm so happy i'll cry so bad when i finally open it 😭😭

#tag later #AAAA IM ACTUALLY SO HAPPY #IM LIKE. RLLY CHILL RN BUT IM SO SO HAPPY #i'll play nier first ofc but oh my god zack. crisis core. i'll cry so bad #im so happy im rlly so happy it's so funny i'm so chill rn but #earlier when i saw data blitz w the poster i jumped n ran to it pointing at it n #I WAS SMILING SM WHEN THEY HAD IT IN STOCK N ALL UWAHH #fun day w my friend hehe we rlly just shopped ngl 🥹 #her. 'friend' ehem (read; basically bf) was low on social bat it seems but it was cool meeting them irl BUT I WAS TOO SHY TO TALK.. #they're usually more extroverted tho n then #i'm sorry i accidentally peeked at my friend's messages n her friend mentioned that like. if another friend of ours (who apollo n i are #closer with) then it wld've been more chill or wtvr I CANT REMEMBER #i miss hanging out w my friends :< I MISS THEM SO MUCH FUCK #I'm so tired from walking tho help i'm sitting down rn finally #torn between really excited for ccr n stressed for the future n really happy from today n #torn too between feeling excited or. idk lonely rn thinking abt all my different kinds of relationships #that flew by too fast.. i wna spend more time w my friends :< #despite how fun it was n everything i can't shake off this certain. emptiness that i can't make sense of #BUT RN I'M DOING FINE DW #technically i'm friends too w the friend of my longtime friend bcs we met (save for me w my longtime friend ofc #like way back early this year. turns out another guy from the other school went bowling w their friends in the same mall #n OH YEAH in this same mall iirc the friend apollo n i are closer w from the guys went to a con here yesterday? #i just realized hi small weird thumb reveal it seems #i just realized if you're filo n know your malls n know a con yesterday then it's very obvious where i was today uh #WAH THAT SAID THOUGH omg i'm rambling but i'm. god i've been feeling rather empty lots lately But i know that i'm happy from today #omg oh yh bcs of all the ppl i mentioned earlier me n longtime friend n apollo joked abt like. reunion of that grp earlier this year hehe #the idea is rlly lovely.. ngl i rlly do have a level of social anxiety even w close friends yeah but that doesn't mean i'm antisocial no #i rlly want to socialize n make friends :< so the idea of it is. rlly wonderful indeed but it seems so far out of my reach #i'll fix tags later i have sm to talk abt oh my god but it's comforting knowing my friend. felt the same way i do abt that earlier hehe #I RLLY WANT A BUCKET HAT N COOL SHADES TO GO W IT HFKSJFKSJFS

[featherymainffins]

I thought I would walk some additional 14 km today and thus burn my accidental lunch (caved into peer pressure and went to a restaurant and had a salad instead of eating my perfectly counted can of tuna) and as such I agreed to go have breakfast with some friends tomorrow to celebrate the end of the excursion.

But I did not walk those 14 km because I wasn't able to get water + I just finished 12 hours of lectures + my arches were killing me + it was raining + I wanted to shower + I wanted to study + I was fucking freezing.

Which means I have to punish myself for my lack of discipline and I also have to make up for the food and that means I CANNOT have that breakfast. In fact I cannot have anything. For 2 days. Just to be sure.

So now I'm trying to figure out what lie I can make up. Currently thinking about saying that I just started to feel really nauseous all of a sudden and as such I unfortunately cannot eat breakfast oopsie. It feels really random and not really believable though.

#god this is so tiring. i wish i wasn't me so i could just live. people don't have to be ideal to earn being tolerated but i do #people don't even have an ideal and there should never be one. but there is one for me and the court of the world expects me to #always fit it. it's a competition and the jury is judging me. I'm constantly trying to win the case. to make the judge rule me innocent #of what I don't know. of everything i suppose. #but it's just exhausting. and I'm not sure if it's more exhausting to just give up and follow whatever the nagging voice says or #if it's more exhausting to fight it. i feel horrible and full of guilt and shame and terror either way so does it really matter? #if i die because my heart gives out or if i die by my own hand? #apparently bulimics have a much higher self-harm percentage but i personally have a tendency to harm my body after i eat #i don't want to do it but i recognise that that's partly exactly why i want to. my emotional torment is probably much more #of a goal than the physical pain. there's a part of me that wants to lead psychological warfare against me #and you know what it's like. it's fine. i accepted that i would die by my own hand a long time ago. I've always said that #i don't know when and that it might be in two decades or a year or a month or a day; but that one day i would go past the breaking #point and kill myself. #i think it's an inevitability of my life and I'm fine with that. someone has to kill themselves. someone has to be that number #in the statistics. there is no reason for it not to be me and if not me it'd be someone else #so it's fine #but yeah it's like...well it's been a run...not sure if a good one...but it's been a run and considering how much i just don't care anymore #i think this time it's really it. and i have a lot of responsibilities so I'm really pissed about it #but listen I'm just exhausted. my every waking thought is plagued by counting and avoiding reflective surfaces and wanting #nothing more than to stare into reflective surfaces for 20 minutes straight and check for every imperfection and irregularity #and check if everything is the same as the day before. i don't know if i should trust my eyes or my emotions or my logic #i don't know which is which. half of my brain power is devoted to making up plausible lies. 'i had a stomach bug earlier' #'im just really nauseous. yea accidentally had lactose earlier.' 'my stomach hurts so i shouldn't eat anything' 'i ate before i came here' #'oh i said i didn't have anything with me? i uhhh i went shopping yesterday evening actually' #i can't focus at all. I'm either too tired or the voice is too loud and too aggressive. i have no idea how I'm going to pass my classes

[vaguenotions]

Oh, yes, I just love your unannounced sleepover where you both come back from the bar after carefully avoiding telling me that's where you were going, and also neglecting to tell me when you'd be home! I definitely do not want to knock you on your ass and take a bat to your dome! That would be rude and unnecessary :)

Oh yes, please do start talking about shit amongst yourselves and make me feel isolated and othered in ny own room! These moments are what I live for, of course. Naturally. Who would ever have any issues with this arrangement at all?

#txt #might delete this later but i also might not because my irritation and rage is real and i shouldnt have to so constantly discard it #i am so tired of constantly putting it aside #i want your blood in my fucking teeth. and it's your fault i want it there- certainly- because I TRY. I try so hard not to feel this way #but eventually you get tired of those little games too #okay I drafted this for a minute bc idk if this fucker is actually spending the night or not i just know he took off his belt. BUT THEN ONE #+ OF THESE FUCKERS DECIDED TO START TALKING ABOUT SPIDERS. A THING THAT I HAVE A VERY BAD PHOBIA ABOUT. I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU #thinking of killing and maiming and maiming and killing and killing and shredding and tearing and killing and- #seriously though what. the fuck. you even go ''oh they're not gonna like this'' THEN HOW ABOUT YOU DONT FUCKING SAY IT #ohh and now you're sitting here making plans for when you go out without me next! I'm going to make you a bloody smear on my fucking floor #i am going to Dissect you. I'm going to rip you apart and feed you to the local strays and csrrion birds. #not even getting up and leaving right fucking now would assuage me. i wish i wasn't so full of fucking hate but you just keep adding fuel + #+to the fire #im so tired. I'll come back with a ''im fine now'' if he fucking leaves but im going to seethe now. im so fucking angry. #how do you fucks continually just bounce between the topics that makes me feel Most Violent Towards You? literally how do you not realize i #+ want you dead at this point? how do you not realize the grave you've dug for yourselves in my mind? #i dont fucking mask it that well. i know i dont. and still you fucking do this #((part of why it being a bar specifically that bothers me besides the very deliberate and careful avoidance of mentioning it to me is that #+*one of you is at serious risk for becoming an alcoholic. why the fuck are you being enabled this way?*)) #((if i was dating someone with a genetic predisposition of alcoholism i would make your regular dates nights- idk- NOT THE FUCKING BAR + #+ DISTRICT. DO YOU EVEN FUCKING CARE ABOUT THEM? DO YOU? This fucking boils my god damn blood.)) #(ultimately its their decision if they want to fucking drink yeah sure whatever YOU DONT NEED TO REGULARLY AND READILY ENABLE IT. BASTARD.) #(If they want to drink so fucking bad- if they push for the bars- JUST BUY SOME ALCOHOL AND BRING IT FUCKING HERE. It limits how much they+ #+can have for one- and it would isolate me from you two less! just as an added fucking bonus! but no very unreasonable of me. what was i + #+thinking? clearly not about them 🙄) #i might be a little out of line here. i can admit that. but if anyone spent a week in my fucking shoes back when they first got together + #+and then now? you would fucking understand. #and they just. keep. talking. to eachother. no attempts to include me. not even glances my way. like always. #''oh nothing will change'' IT FUCKING CHANGED. I want to hurt you so bsdly for that lie with ever passing day. do you even know it was a li #do you? anyway was abt to post this and noticed a gif i have of a woman ripping her shirt off so im going to stare at that until im calm ig.

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

.

#im. im just sad and horrible and i don't know ehy and everythings going wrong #and i made my top in the wrong sizr because i didn't notice until it was nearly over so I just kept going even thought i knew itnwould be #wronf and now it's wrong and i hate it anf i hate myself and i ate too much today because i was bored and mad and i wasn't rven hungry and #i cant make myself do anyrhing and i think my friend is mad at me even thiugh theyre probably nit mad and theyre probably ignoring my tezts #because they're busy and i know have adhd bur it feels bad and i feel like i like them more than they like me #and then i called my boyfriend but that made me feel more bad becayse he was tired and i felt like i was catrying the conversation #which i feel like i have to do in our relationship most of the time anyway and most of the time its fine but I don't know hownto tell him #that sometimes it makes our relationship feel like it's all my responsibility even though I know its not and theni said bye and he said are #you okay and i said no and he didn't say anything and i hung up #anf then i texted him and said i don't know if i can see him tomorrow bc im miserable and he saif okay that's fine and then he saif #i love you #and i didn't respond and im oretending i didn't see it #because im in a bad mood and i want to be mean to someone but i don't want to actually be mean to him bwcause i love him #i just don't want to say i love you right now because everything's wrong and I'm unhappy and i can't stop crying

[beelzzzebub]

honestly i just think it's a shame that i have yet to kiss somebody

#look the romantic identity is confusing but i think it'd be easier if i just had some experience so i could tell what's the vibe #bc romantic attraction is confusing #but something deep in my hypothetical soul just wants to be chosen to be loved and wanted and held close #which lowkey sucks bc people just... don't seem to feel that way about me #but we're viiiiibinggg with it #so are we going to the drafts with this one or no #touch choices #i'm tired #i always get like this when i'm tired #or when i'm awake #i think a lot about this actually #how people may not necessarily dislike me #but all i ever seem to inspire is apathy #maybe mild casual enjoyment #but nobody ever seems to actively want or choose to be around me #especially not when there are other options #i can reach out and i can try #but at some point i can see when i'm too much #i see that people drift away when someone else enters the room #i'm a fine option in an empty room #and perhaps that is all #this always comes up #originally this was literally just about me thinking that i would probably like kissing if i ever had the chance to try it #but of course every time i spend even a little time thinking my thought process ends up back in the unimportant filler character hole #i'm really fucking tired of it actually #i'm really fucking tired of never knowing how to get past the weather #i hate that i can't even put a finger on what i'm doing wrong #is it some kind of deficit #i already feel enough like don't have any real discernable personality #or is it something repelling

[stressfulsloth]

.

#i already know I'm going to be too tired to cook tonight #I'm flaring up pretty hard and i feel like I'll have the spoons to manage work + commute without tears lmao but beyond that........... #and I do not have much money left for the month but I'm thinking if i get delivery then at least I've eaten and saved some energy #because then I've got work tomorrow too 😭 #life is a neverending hamster wheel aough #bc i could go to the shops for groceries but thats a 15 min walk on top of everything else and i dont think i can make it #and there's no leftovers........ #why do i not meal prep when i know I'm going to get like this argh #so many problems could be solved by me growing a brain cell #ok im justifying it to myself It's fine i can afford it just about i need to stop punishing myself for wanting fairly basic things #the way food and money and disability and eating disorder recovery all intertwine is very unpleasant and I hate it Actually #gonna save myself the energy and future me will be pleased #there's only one place that delivers this far out so ig im getting indian #daal 🤤 #just got to try and not drive myself insane with guilt over it argh

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

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

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[hellonearthtoday]

canon is dead I rule the world. dsmp you are MINE

dsmpblrs ocs shared between the 5 (five) singular people that inhabit this fandom

I'm taking the chance to just talk about my personal dsmp au that is basically canon if you don't think about it

I don't think we as a community wrote enough about demon ctommy. he was always my favorite it just gives him this evil vibe that I think is sooo funny and I always see it in ctommy art but never in literally any fic. and that's fine but imp or whatever-he-is-Tommy will always be real in my heart. in my head he used to be a bird hybrid, but when he died for what was supposed to be the final time they took his fucking wings and gave him cunty demon horns and tail. Death made him emo. for the sake of this narrative his wings used to be white too. Pair this with religious ctommy and you get peak

ctubbo. I think about him a lot. I think personally he wears armor under his coat. You'd think it start to get hot under there, and it does. his solution is to just Never leave the Arctic.

At some point he started developing resting bitch face, because it used to just be resting (autistic face of neutrality) but now he kind of just looks tired all the time. Not like Tommy's rbf where he looks like he's kinda pissed and has a headache 24/7. but at least they're semi matching now. bff's!!! (?) I can't write too much about ctubbo because my cutbbo is like 20 billion contradictions stacked on itself. he's not as simple as my ctommy.

He doesn't wear the red bandana anymore but he can't tell you why and he's not insecure about the scar on his face but he's not proud of it either. I FORGOT TO DRAW CRANBOO AND HIS WEDDING RINGS IM AN ANTI WHAT THE HELLL okay ignoring that blunder, their wedding rings are meant to be on their horns 💔 you can't fucking see cranboos singular (1) horn because it's out of frame, they're too tall.

SPEAKONG OF CRANBOO!!!! snakes in his hair because Hahhaa hattte eye contact????? Medusa???? get it guys get it do you guys get jut

The snakes talk to him. Take that as you will. He's a chronic suit wearer and will literally not wear anything else unless it's under or over the suit. he would like to never try anything new ever he needs this constant in his life or everything will fall apart and the world will end. He knows how to kit up and wear armor but just as a joke he wears random bits of armor in places he literally needs it least. as a fashion statement. Tommy doesn't wear any armor usually bcz who gaf he's not doing that shit

in my perfect world the egg plot in dsmp actually got used better and becsme more than a background plot. it could've been everything. anyway my dsmp au is egg war las Nevadas craziness and I'm right goodnight

#dsmp #dsmp fanart #art #tommyinnt fanart #tubbo fanart #ranboo fanart #c!ranboo #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!benchtrio #plugging my ears at canon #scratch that I'm beating canon to death with a bat #these are my ocs. #cranboo never died #amen! #i don't think I can handle it #peep the blue stitches on Tommy's coat hahaha it's friends wool #rip friend I remember updating that on the update account #ignore cbbh and csam in the back #theyre playing #guys is mental illness real #guys #hell on art

[quiznak-ofgrayskull]

Sorry if I said I'd do anything um school's kinda requiring me to sell my soul atm and I really don't want to get kicked out so I really do have to focus on that, but once I stop having a D in algebra I'll try and make the dtiys among other stuff!

#school shit #not really a hiatus but I'm really not gonna take on anything new atm #like I'll probably be fine it's just we don't have that much stuff yet so I failed a quiz + a test so that dropped my grade 12 points total #but if I do good on more units I should be fine??? #unless they kick me out before then #but I refuse to panic anymore I"m too tired to do that #I don't think I actually said I'd do much but if I did sorry

[evilminji]

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #Tea Shop of Mysteries AU #alfred pennyworth