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#so sick of being me lately it’s exhausting

i-can-even-burn-salad · 4 months

Note

Happy STS Elli!

What inspires you to write? Are there things that you know that you can get inspiration from or does it just come randomly?

Happy STS!

For me, inspiration doesn't mean "to write".

There are, and always have been, a lot of stories floating around in my mind - ideas, scenes, vibes, outlines. I get inspiration from literally everywhere, from talking to my friends, and video games, and scrolling past images or prompts, and reading books, and spending too much time on reddit, and…

Many remain daydreams, or character backstories, eventually lost to time.

Now for actually being able to sit my ass down and get words on the page? I don't know. It comes and goes as it pleases. Having a beehive where a brain should be does NOT help, let me tell you that.

I just. Can't focus on shit lately. Can barely make it through a chapter when reading. Every day is just suddenly over, and I got nothing done, and I am so tired. I have a completely outlined short thing I have been trying to write since Nov, and it's like pulling teeth.

I could do with several months off work while everyone leaves me the fuck alone. How would that be.

#salad-ask #aria-benedetto #sts ask #I cried new year's because after having 1 (one) day of my vaction actually completely to myself #Which was after I already didn't get any quiet time on my LAST three attempts at taking time off because someone was sick at home #And spending most of all that time just working (in my time off) and cleaning the depression piles #My mom berated me for instantly refusing to come over for some 'if I die you need to know where stuff is' talk #(note: there's no reason to think she might anytime soon and she was talking about like... a cd collection)#'You always have something!!!'#I don't know anymore how to get people to understand how fucking exhausted I am.#I'm about to let the stupid paint course voucher from work lapse because in a year I didn't find a motive I like and the energy to even #consider wasting 3 hours of my life after work to produce some physical object I have no room for while having to run to get there on time #Not to mention people!! A room full of people!!#I've just become sooo sensitive to noise lately I can't even stand to be in the kitchen when the fridge hums #And you're always always always the bad guy if you close the door in someone's face because they're whistling or watching tv or calling #It's cool :) Sorry I was being unsocial :) Lemme just quickly slam my head against a wall until I pass out :)#So uh anyway happy STS writing has been going well

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panuccispizza · 6 months

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I received a phone call the other day where my dad was with his neighbor? and he was just trying to wish happy Thanksgiving but for some reason within the conversation he slipped up on my pronouns and was trying to be supportive while also outing me to this stranger by also fucking up on the wording and just misgendering me. but the neighbor got upset at him and me And started telling him to hang up the phone, and she kept trying to make a point to misgender me but she was gendering me correctly, just being transphobic about it. and it was kind of funny but also I cried the other day (hard) and I still feel flat and empty but I'm forced to go into my barely passable service job otherwise I get punished for black friday

#every year it seems like i cant catch a break around thanksgiving all my displacement is in late november #im exhausted and i dont know how to tell my dad i accept his stupidity because i know hes not going to be any better than he is now.#but its unacceptable to talk about someone like that and no i do NOT know this woman i dont care if i met her ONCE.#and its just annoying like im sick of being trans because im sick of worrying about being wrong all the time and every single fucking thing #that i do is wrong like im always fucking wrong #like dad you and mom did a hand in giving me fucking COMPLEX TRAUMA and ive been working on healing and taking care of myself #because i want to be able to live a normal life. i want things and fulfillment.#my brother was able to go into the army to get the easy pass out of poverty and im probably going to kill myself by 30 #literally i need ans want therapy so bad..... no insuranc

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ishouldreallybeelsewhere · 8 months

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mum… i don’t need ‘sunlight to help with melatonin’ and i don’t need to just exercise more

we are wayyy past that

i don’t get why my parents refuse to acknowledge that actually i’ve tried pretty much everything

like, you did the no screens in my room, ever, and no screens after 8, and having a dedicated bed time, and going on walks every morning and every afternoon, frequently in the sun, exercising frequently, getting up at dawn to experience ‘the first hour of daylight’, and getting up at the same time every morning, medication, prescription and herbal, therapy, meditation, even acupuncture

and none of it has worked

so please stop getting annoyed at me for not wanting to do it all again, and for being exhausted, and for not getting up until 1pm because i’m too tired to move for several hours after i wake up

and omfg stop confiscating all my devices every night… it’s never going to work you guys can’t keep track of more than my phone and my laptop and also it doesn’t fucking help, it actually makes the ocd worse, which, believe it or not, makes it harder to sleep

and i know the holidays are slipping by and all i do is lie in bed!! i’m so fucking tired!! i can’t just get up and paint the fence and mow the lawns and help you put up the curtain rails because i can barely keep my eyes open and if anyone is slightly mean to me i will cry

AND IT’S NOT MY FUCKING FAULT AND YOU’RE NOT HELPING SO DON’T GET MAD AT ME WHEN YOU’RE ‘JUST TRYING TO HELP’ CUZ IT IS CLEAR THAT YOU HAVE NEVER LISTENED TO ANYTHING I HAVE EVER SAID

two things have helped in my whole life. weed, and watching doctor who until i fully pass out, but i can’t tell my parents that, obviously, cuz only my brother’s allowed to do drugs and i shouldn’t have been watching tv! listening to video essays used to help a bit too, but i got into trouble for that one so it’s pretty obvious that actually you don’t fucking care

#im fucking sick of this #and they seem to be more worried about me not doing chores and being late for school #than the fact that i can’t physically get out of bed in the morning #or that i’m so exhausted throughout the day but can’t sleep until 3 am #idk #vent #life stuff

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month

Note

Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes

omg I love this, let's do it hehe

Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 2,3k

Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...

Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired

„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.

He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.

You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?

“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.

You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…

It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.

“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.

“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”

It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.

“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”

Little did he know you meant that.

-a week later-

“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”

His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.

“Oh, just work.”

No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.

Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.

You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…

“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“

“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.

Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-

He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.

“Off to bed with you.”

“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.

You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?

Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.

-a few days after-

“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.

You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.

But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.

“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.

“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”

Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.

“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”

With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.

“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.

“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.

“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.

“I’m completely back to normal!”

“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.

“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”

Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.

“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“

“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.

“The combat training with the first year-“

“Done.”

“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”

“Done.”

“Taking care of-“

“Done.”

This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?

“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”

Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.

“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”

“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.

“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”

“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.

“Call her in right now.”

Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.

“And let her leave again in about an hour.”

-an hour later-

“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”

“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.

You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.

But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?

“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.

“Ehm...so…well…”

“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“

“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.

“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.

“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”

“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.

“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”

“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.

“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”

It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…

You open the door with a swift motion.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.

The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.

He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.

“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.

Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.

“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.

“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.

But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-

Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…

“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.

You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.

And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…

“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.

You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.

He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.

“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.

“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”

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(this took me forever so if I tagged u be so kind and leave a like/comment/reblog lol)

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the-californicationist · 4 months

Text

FaceTime (Price/Reader)

Warning: video/phone sex

It was around lunchtime when you usually heard from John. His deployment was stationed in some Eastern European locale, and over there, it would be late at night. He usually texted you throughout the day, and you’d wake up to his updates, but it had been radio silence for at least twenty-four hours and you were nervous.

You tried to stay busy, keeping yourself calm by talking to your friends and calling your mom, but the house was so empty without him. Sometimes you stole a cigar just to smell his smoke in the house again, lighting it on a plate like incense. He’d be cross if he found out, but you knew he’d forgive you.

You logged out of your work email and undressed to hop in the shower. Then, just as you were about to step in, you heard your phone buzz. Abandoning the running shower, you lunged for your phone, turning it over to see John’s profile photo on the screen, smiling at you.

“John?” You panted, fear crawling up your throat.

“Hey, love,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. He sounded exhausted.

“Thank God. I was worried sick. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sounded like he wanted to say no, “Everything’s fine.”

That was his code for ‘don’t ask.’ It made you even more concerned, but you kept that to yourself, not wanting to add to his mental stress.

“I miss you, John,” you sighed.

Then, he was video calling you. You were naked, but he was careful. He would never call you in front of anyone. You swiped up to answer it.

He seemed surprised to see your bare collarbones. He was shirtless, too. Ready for bed, alone in his bunk.

“Oh, hey,” he smiled, “Look at you, pretty thing.”

You blushed,

“Right back at you, handsome.”

He grinned, rubbing his big hand across his chest. You loved it when he did that. There was something so hot about his fingers petting through his thick chest hair, flashing over his pink nipples, warming his tired muscles, rippling and rising with his breaths.

“Mm, careful, love. I’m already missin’ ya. Start praising me and I’m gonna grab you through this phone,” he joked with you, playfully threatening, flirting through his tiredness.

“Wish you would, John,” you moaned, testing his limits. If you were lucky, maybe he would take the bait.

You heard the fabric of his sweatpants rustle, and when he repositioned the phone, you saw his pink cock being dragged out, heavy and hardening under its commander’s grasp. You moaned again, more enthusiastically this time,

“Oh, fuck. I miss that cock,” you propped your phone up on the sink, leaning it against a bottle of soap and the tap.

You saw your body on the screen, tossing your towel on the counter to show him your entire naked form. Your hands found your breasts, pulling at your nipples, squeezing the flesh for him and for you, feeling better by the second. Your hands were no match for his hands, but it would have to pass.

“This cock misses you, baby. Why don’t you touch that soft little cunt for me, hm?”

You do as he says, eagerly sinking your fingers into yourself to obey him, sending waves of pleasure through your core as you do. You’re not ready yet, and you work yourself slowly as you watch his giant hand pump his fat shaft faster and faster in the darkness of his bunk.

“I can’t wait for you to come home, John. I need to taste you again. I want you to put so much come in me that I feel full from it.”

“You like how I taste, love?” His voice was strained. He was concentrating on watching you fuck yourself on your hand.

“I love it,” you confessed honestly, “You want me to show you how much?”

You didn’t wait for him to reply. You gathered your wetness on your fingers and showed it to him, making sticky strings of your own come drip between your fingers. He groaned, and then he gasped when he watched you lick them clean.

“Fuck, do that again.”

You dipped your fingers into yourself, coating them with your own fluids and bent down closer to the camera so he could see the gleam of your juices as your fingers slid into your waiting mouth. You used your tongue to show him how clean they were.

He groaned loudly, a familiar sound, and you saw white streams of come burst from his rosy tip, melting down his shaft like a tall candle.

“Bloody hell, I needed that.”

You smiled, making a mental note to charge your vibrator before you get in the shower. You needed to let off the insane tension he had just built up inside of you.

You blew him a kiss and he caught it with his free hand,

“Me, too. Call me tomorrow?”

“No need. Tomorrow, you’re gonna get the real thing.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x reader #captain johnathan price #cod price #price mw2 #call of duty #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #afab reader

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emmyrosee · 5 months

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Sometimes, Suguru can’t find it in himself to sleep.

It’s when his mind is louder than he anticipates, and it’s too late for him to take an aid to knock the thoughts loose and free into the night sky. His legs shake, he tosses and turns every five minutes, he feels sick to his stomach as his body becomes with fatigue worse than being physically sick, and sometimes, he gets so frustrated he screws his eyes shut and wants to scream, throw a tantrum to release the feelings that claw his heart.

He’d never do it though. Not with you next to him.

Not as your own mind swirls in dreamland, deep and secure and safe in bed next to him. He reaches out to gently thumb your bottom lip, and when you grunt softly at him, he chuckles and sits up.

He could get up. Call it a night, get started on work for tomorrow and try again tomorrow night. He can watch tv, see if there’s any news on, or perhaps read until his eyes burn like he’s done the past three nights.

“Suguru?”

Your sleepy voice shudders him out of his thoughts, your voice wobbly and not ready to face the day in the cutest way possible.

“Sugu?” You sleepily mumble again, brows pinched in the center as you knuckle an eye, “what’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” It’s not really a lie, is it?

You hum and sit up, and he’s quick to try and coax you back to lay down. You shouldn’t have to be awake for his sake, not when it’s his mind that betrays him in such ways; you deserve to relax and be restful.

You don’t have to be awake for his sake.

You mewl and rest your head on his shoulder, “can’t sleep?”

“No, baby… not tonight.” He laces his fingers with yours and brings your knuckles to his lips for a loving kiss, “but I’ll be okay. You go back to bed, yeah?”

“Don’t want you to be alone,” you pout sleepily. He laughs again before wrapping an arm around you, tugging you close while you curl into his warm side.

“Wanna hear about my dream?” You ask, barely even functioning.

“Sure. Lay it on me.”

“I dreamt I was with Shoko,” you yawn, eyes rolling back in exhaustion. “And we… were walking… I had chicken legs…”

He tries his hardest not to laugh, fingers massaging the muscles at the base of your neck lovingly. “Then what?”

“Gojo… was a pig.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He chuckles and burrows his nose into your warm scalp, relishing in the feeling as for the first time that night, his mind shuts the hell up, as if the loud thoughts from his head would wake you up.

You start to snore softly, mouth slacked and eyes rolling back exhaustedly. He guides you both to slowly lay back down, not wanting to wake you up again because of his inability to sleep. Your body lets him manipulate you into a laying position, but your arms stay wrapped around him.

“I love you,” he whispers against you, squeezing you close.

You grunt back at him, and he closes his eyes to try and let your comforting, sleepy embrace lull him to a semblance of sleep.

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