#and im awful with habits and schedules

[rottingoranges]

Day 1 of using cane at school and woah!!! getting home and pains barely at a 1 or 2 and I didn't struggle on stairs except for a little awkwardness, moving at the speed of light in the halls, did even MORE walking this morning and was fine after, this is so awesome what the fuck!!!

I got a few looks and a lot of questions (Most people assumed I got injured over break and were asking what happened, wild shark attack guys, more common than you'd think in southern canada.) I also got called doctor house in the hallways, but for the most part we're going strong and I'm not as anxious about it as I thought I was. Only complaints so far is my shoulder hurting (who knew bad posture could come bite you in the ass?) and I had a blister forming around my palm (I doubled up fingerless gloves on the hand holding it and the problem seems to be solved!)

[superfruitland]

OK OK we had a little fun with the asks, now actually though when's the next update?

it's as if i had a little fun with them for a reason...

in all seriousness, no, i don't know when i'll get around to updating. i'd rather sort out my own personal issues first before thinking about anything else.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Obkk modern au where where Kakashi and Obito are online friends who have never seen eachothers faces. It's a years long friendship (and mutual silent crush) where they've helped eachother through what was truly the darkest parts of eachothers lives.

But irl they also happen to know eachother from childhood due to having gone to the same schools and shared the same classes, and they fucking DESPISE the other. You can not stick them in a room without someone starting a fight.

When they interact irl, play into specifically the early dynamics of obkk, with kind of superficially happy/dumb Obito and a "follow the rules to the letter" grumpy overachiever Kakashi

But when they're online, play more into the older obkk dynamic.

Where Obito shows that he has a pretty big mean streak/humor and a serious talent for playing dumb; where he overlays his happier side irl for just social reasons.

While Kakashi shows he's actually super lazy and imperfect with most other factors of his life outside of work/school (and ofc downplays his actual work ethic when it comes to work/school, framing himself as doing bare minimum when he should really do more (bc he genuinley believes that)) and has a pretty wicked sense of humor himself, a love of over-romantic, fluffy porn, and a habit of using endless "cute" emotocons

Kk: Did my proposal today, it was so bad... I really slacked off this time on it. I was so nervous they'd tell me no (｡﹏｡")

Kk: I guess the other presentations must have been pretty bad too because they picked mine anyways? I feel so lucky (╥﹏╥)

Ob: it's ok even if you tried your best!! Im proud you were able to do even as much as you did.

Ob: I'm glad you got it, at least one of us won their proposal today. That jackass had a fucking 30 slide detailed slide with 6 DIFFERENT PIE CHARTS and a scheduled water break inbetween. Fucking kissass

Kk: nooo im sorry ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)

Ob: it's whatever. Just glad you got the thing :)

Ob: want me to kill your boss tho.

Kk: lol

Kk: I'll help hide the body ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

And then one day Obito does some sort of very mean prank on Kakashi. And it goes uhh. Badly.

I mean, badly for Kakashi. Obito thinks it went great!

That is till he gets home and finds his best friend for a decade, and crush for even past that decade, texting him about a very specific mean prank that got pulled on them.

Wait. No. Wait. WAIT. FUCK.

So like. Obito is a bit conflicted now. He doesn't know what to really do here??? Like. What if it ruins everything with his best friend??? But also hey best friend why the FUCK are you such a BITCH.

But also also, suddenly Obito is recontextualizing SO many of their interactions— from Kakashi suffering the devistating loss of his father when he was especially annoying, to explanations of why he reacted certain ways. And oh my god Obito is... also a kind of a bitch???

Obito has NO idea what to do and is just swinging so violently back and forth on what are really his only two options.

And sometimes he's like gleefully feeling vindictive bc after arguing with irl Kakashi, online Kakashi is ranting about "that same asshole again" at work, so Obito is like "I KNEW it was getting to u, haha you're NOT better than me after all!!!"

But then later he feels kinda bad about it bc like. Aw wait no he actually might have genuinley hurt the person he loves. And also he doesn't want to lose getting to see the real Kakashi, a mix of both of his masks, by fucking this up and choosing wrong.

Anyways Kakashi finally somehow figures it out on his own, they fight, they make up, they make out.

The end yay happy ending

There's an alternate universe where neither of them every found out about eachother and continued to be friends online and hate eachother to escalating degrees offline. But one day they start to slowly shift in dynamics. Irl they get closer and online they get so much angrier and more distant. Till we've swapped and now online they just have this GIANT fallout but offline they're actually in love now. And this continues till they're about to get married/no longer on speaking terms with eachother. And so on their wedding day they reach out again online but ONLY to hate on eachother like "oooo fuck you I'm so happy rn I just got MARRIED."

"Oh yeah you bitch??? So did I. And my husbands better than anything your ugly ass could ever pull"

"FUCK YOU MY HUSBANDS FUCKING AMAZING AND YOURS IS PROBABLY LOOKS AND ACTS LIKE SHIT"

"OH YEAH????"

"YEAH!!!"

"PROVE IT!"

And then they very sharply turn and take simultaneous photos of eachothers furious faces and then angrily, instinctivley press send.

And then they stop. And then they have a moment of dead silence.

And then they begin to have an actual, physical fist fight in front of the uncut wedding cake with ALL of their friends and families watching. And the photographers with their very ready cameras.

There was a lot of cake.

Yeah that was ah uhh. Interesting

The good news at least is now they have a photo of them fist fighting like they want to kill eachother while covered in wedding cake in a frame that says "happy marriage <3" on it, and they like to joke about it (to many, many peoples horror)

The end yay happy ending x2

If I were to write this fr I think I'd legally have to write both versions bc both are excellent

[ckret2]

CULT LEADER AT 14 ?? WHY WASN'T EUCLIDEAN CPS CALLED IM CRYING /Rhetorical, but I am genuinely curious. Kids/teens are smarter than people assume and his actions are his own, but he's barely a teenager at this point. Unless there's some law added to the story (which I doubt) the logical conclusion I've come to is that his parents just scared any case workers off lmao. The real CPS has a habit of being useless, especially in cases similar to Bill's, with little (or hidden) physical abuse/neglect. Also you can get them to leave by telling them to. Not ideal.

For the same reason the CPS wasn't called on Gideon for having a burgeoning cultlike fandom over his child psychic routine.

The CPS isn't called in over child performers—child movie stars, child TV actors, child singers. The CPS isn't called in over kid influencers on family vlogger channels with millions of viewers. The CPS isn't called in over child preachers, child healers, child psychics. Even when they really, really should be.

(There's been some high profile criminal cases over child abuse on family vlogs lately—but every story about a family like that being held responsible for abuse is a story about how long they got away with it without anybody doing a thing.)

Bill's parents did spiritually-themed speaking engagements. They started bringing their kid on stage with them—how adorable, a family act!—and he did a cute little child psychic routine, he could go up to strangers and tell them their names, he could tell them what was in their wallets, he knew details about their medical histories—sometimes details THEY didn't know yet. ("congratulations, do you have a name for the baby yet?" "a name for the what?" "whoops! ... do you want me to spoil what shape it'll be?")

What harm is there in a family that does public speaking letting their child join in on the performance? He's talented, popular, seems to be having fun.

They're more successful, they do more shows, he's performing a larger proportion of the shows. Well, sure, of course he is, the audience loves his parts. He's very charismatic. Charming, engaging, enthusiastic. Who would tell him to stop? He's so enthusiastic about participating. He's even started preaching some—very spiritual stuff, the details are a little muddy but hey, he's young, but he's compelling and it's clear he believes this stuff and he's doing such good work spreading hope and positivity to their audience.

He's missing some school to travel for speaking engagements, but hey, he's still doing well enough to make it to the next grade, and when he's clearly found his passion so young wouldn't it be a shame to coop him up and make him hide his light under a barrel?

When his parents are interviewed they talk about what a gift their golden child is and how they're awed by his talents and grateful to have him in their lives. When he's interviewed he talks about how much he loves speaking to audiences, making that little connection with so many of them, how he's so happy to see how happy they are when he comes on stage. He talks about how he'd love to have a radio show or do international tours someday. He wants to reach as many people as possible.

He's now doing the majority of the speaking—because he has such a talent for it, because the audiences come to hear him, because they like what he's saying and want to hear more of it, and he's eager to oblige.

After middle school they announce that he's "switching to home schooling" to make more time for speaking—and what's wrong with that? Lots of child performers with demanding schedules find creative ways to fit their schooling around their concerts or filming or shows or speaking engagements or whatever it is they do.

Anyone who's close enough to him to know he's dropped his education altogether is close enough to him that they're in on the con, so they're not gonna do anything about it. Who could imagine that a kid that well-spoken could be uneducated. Nobody in his audience is standing up to challenge the child psychic to prove he knows how to do algebra.

His mother dies, very tragic. The family withdraws for a little bit; then they're back on the road, saying that's what his mother would want for him. They do a brief little tribute to her at shows. He says that she's speaking to him from beyond. If you believe in the things he professes to believe, it's very very sweet.

If you don't believe, this is a red flag. But goddamn, "I don't believe in that family's religious beliefs" is NO grounds to investigate a family.

He starts getting combative with people who try to criticize him. That's not too weird, he's a teenager, it's not a sign of abuse, just immaturity. He can't always be the perfect angel he is on stage—and by god, if some snotty scientist is trying to undermine his spiritual claims, he SHOULD get mad! The kind of people paying close attention to him are the kind of people who believe in him. When he gets mad, he's expressing their collective righteous anger. They're on his side.

Rumors start spreading about him sneaking out to parties and getting trashed way too young. It sounds like a bunch of slander, it's just rumors, somebody's trying to undermine the reputation of this fine young triangle. Anyway, even if it's true, "nearly-adult teen is sneaking out to party and coming home drunk" isn't a sign of abuse, that's a thing kids do. That's a problem for his father to address, not the government.

Nobody outside of his immediate family learns about his uncle's death at one of his shows.

By the time this young triangle's dangerously incandescent temper has built up to the point that it starts to dominate his reputation and the public knows how vitriolic he is, he's legally an adult. There's no grounds for an investigation. He can't be taken away from his father, his father lives in his house. He's bringing in the money, he's calling the shots, and he has been for years.

So, take all that: "Why wasn't the Euclidean CPS called?"

Why would they be?

Even if they were, all a case worker would have found is a tightly-knit family that doesn't have a single bad word to say about each other to outsiders, and a home filled wall to wall with their son's accolades—news articles, trophies, pictures.

[iwasntstable]

n.s. | if i'm there

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/IFIMTHERE [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites 　﹂ all | series | [one-shot] | blurb | head-cannons | ask 　　﹂ fear-of-failure | nightmare | never-just-friends 　　　 stay-til-morning | new-neighbour | [if-im-there]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help / And I just left you to be all by yourself / And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well / But I just came back to see how hard you fell Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall / You'll have a friend down in Hell after all 　　— If I'm There - Bad Omens

summary: when things start getting bad, you withdraw. ignoring calls and texts, and descending into bad habits as you self-isolate. but noah knows what you're like and he loves you too much to let you suffer alone.

content tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, poor mental health, mentions of disordered eating, discussions of food, self-destructive behaviour, fluff.

word count: 3.8k.

note: having a rough time recently so enjoy the self-indulgent product of my stressing. 　　PS: please tell me if the layout of this post is fucked up so I can fix it for you.

Things are getting bad again. You find your sleep schedule sliding later and later, falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and waking in the afternoon, bypassing the day altogether. Meals are becoming infrequent and poor in quality. Appetite dwindling and opting to eat half a bag of microwave rice at 3am rather than dedicating time to creating a nutritious and satisfying meal. Truth be told, you didn’t have the energy to cook anything more, and the malnutrition itself likely played a part in that lack of energy. The trash was left to build up, and the laundry hadn’t been done in weeks.

The progression of all of this was gradual. So gradual, that by the time you recognised what was happening, it was all but too late to stop the rapid descent into your depression. And as the days go by, you start to withdraw into yourself. Messages from friends begin to go unanswered. You tell yourself you’ll reply later, when you have the mental bandwidth to engage in conversation. But later ends up being not at all. Too many days have passed, and you feel like it’s too late to reply now; you don’t know how. That includes your boyfriend.

　　　　　　　　　　　[Noah 💘]

　　　　　　 　　　　　Tuesday 　　　　　　　　　 　　10:45AM

— Morning! Do you wanna call later?    Miss your voice 

          morning! I have a headache —             right now and I feel like it's             not gonna go away :( I'll let                you know though.                 I miss you too ❤️ —

— Aw I'm sorry :( — I hope you feel better soon — Text me later and let me know    how you are ❤️

　　　　　　　　　 　　02:27PM

— Hey babe how are you feeling?

             my head still hurts :( —

— Want me to come over and look    after you? — Have you eaten yet?

       you don't have to do that, I'd be —            shitty company anyway                   just wanna sleep —

— Okay :( — I'll text you later tonight so    you can sleep

　　　　　　　　　 　　10:09PM

— How are you feeling? — Are you sleeping? — Hope you’re resting well. Text    me when you wake up so I know    you’re okay — I love you ❤️ — Goodnight ❤️

　　　　　　 　　　　Wednesday 　　　　　　　　　 　　08:41AM

— Morning, how’re you feeling?

　　　　　　　　　 　　09:13AM

— Are you awake? — Babe, are you okay?

      hey! sorry I was still asleep. I feel a —       little better but my head still hurts :(

— I’m gonna cancel today and come    over — I don’t want you to be alone when    you’re not well 

       no don’t do that, i’m okay really —              you know this happens          sometimes. I just wanna rest,            you don’t have to cancel for        me. not when work is important

— You’re important too — Please let me look after you

          I love you and I love that —           you want to be here for me,         but all I want to do right now                   is sleep

          I don’t want you to cancel —           important schedules just           to watch me sleep all day                I’ll feel better soon.             just need to give it time. —

— I’d cancel to sit and watch you sleep    in a heartbeat — I love you, I just want you to be okay — I have to go, I’ll text you later okay?

         I’ll text you back when I can, —            if I don’t reply I’m probably          asleep so don’t worry have a                good day I love you —

　　　　　　　　　 　　10:26PM

— Hey babe sorry I didn’t text all day I    was so fucking busy — How’re you doing now? — Are you sleeping again?

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 10:31PM]

— Text or call me when you wake up,    even if it’s the middle of the night I’ll    leave my sound on — I love you ❤️

　　　　　　 　　   　　Thursday 　　　　　　　　　 　　08:41AM

— Hey, are you awake?

　　　　　　　　　 　　08:55AM

— Hello??

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 08:59AM]

— Message me when you wake up

　　　　　　　　　 　　12:20PM

— Babe?? — I’m worried — Even if you don’t wanna talk can     you please let me know you’re okay?

　　　　　　　　　 　　12:46PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 12:48PM]

　　　　　　　　　 　　01:20PM

     hey, sorry I missed your messages —         I’m okay sorry for worrying you —

— I was just about to come over — I still might — I’m worried about you

           please don’t I just don’t —          wanna see anyone right now

— Even me?

                  I’m sorry —             I’ll text you tomorrow — — If that’s what you want — I love you

　　　　　　　 　   　　　Friday 　　　　　　　　　 　　03:47PM

— I don’t want to bother you, I’m     trying to give you space if that’s    what you need — But I’m worried about you — You haven’t messaged me all day — Did I do something wrong?

　　　　　　　　　 　　04:10PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:12PM]

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:15PM]

　　　　　　　　　 　　04:18PM

— Your friends said they haven’t heard    from you in days — What’s going on? You can talk to me. — You don’t have to talk to me if you    don’t want to but text someone back,    please — I just wanna know that you’re okay

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:23PM]

And that’s how Noah ended up outside your door. Banging incessantly and shouting your name through the wood. You could hear him from where you were wrapped up in bed, but you were half hoping he would just drop it and go away. Realising quickly, however, the futility of that hope when you heard another voice join the sound of his. That of your neighbour, the nosy one from the house on the right.

You groan and throw the blanket off yourself, flinching a little when your feet touch the cold floor. You have no choice but to go downstairs, and no time to change your appearance. Hoping to whatever God will listen that Noah doesn’t make a comment on the clothes you’d been wearing for the past week before you can get in the shower and change.

“I’m just really worried about her,” you can hear the unmistakable tone of Noah’s voice through the door before you even open it.

Hesitating for a moment with your hand on the door handle, you decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. “I haven’t seen her for, ohhh let me think... has to be about a week now,” despite the man’s voice wavering with age, it came loud and clear through the door. An unfortunate side effect of his hearing loss.

“A week?!” Noah exclaimed. Having enough of the old man sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, you unlock the door quickly, wrenching it open and taking a surprised Noah by the arm.

“Oh! Nice to see you, dear. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The old man sneers.

“Yeah, nice seeing you, Trevor,” you barely extend him a glance as you drag Noah in through your doorway, slamming the door closed and turning the key. You let out a deep sigh, your palms and forehead resting against the cool wood.

Noah calls your name softly. You squeeze your eyes tight and take in a breath before you turn to face him. Putting on the best phoney smile you can muster.

“Sorry about him, he’s always in everyone’s business. What are you-”

“He said he hasn’t seen you in a week,” he says matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of a smile on his face. “Your friends said they haven’t heard from you in days either, and you’ve been ignoring my texts. And calls.”

Your heart seizes at the sadness in his eyes. He stands there in your front room, his usual sweatpants and hoodie, but he just looks so defeated. You always tell him he looks like an upset puppy when he’s sad, and the puppy-dog eyes are working overtime on you right now. “I told you, I’ve just been busy, and I-”

“And you had a headache, and you missed my texts, and you didn’t want to talk,” his voice was as stern as his expression. You knew he wasn’t an idiot. That there’s no way he’d believe your—at best—flimsy excuses. You stand frozen to the spot, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. Picking at the stitches, trying to distract yourself from the lump forming in your throat. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Noah questions.

You swallow roughly, “I don’t know what you... I don’t-”

He says your name firmly and takes a step towards you, “I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly.”

Feeling your heart begin to race in your chest, you swallow again, but it does nothing to get rid of the tightness in your throat. Or the dizziness creeping up on you.

“Are you doing bad again?” He sounds softer this time, and you almost wish he would just scream at you because when he’s kind and attentive like this, you can’t help but crumble and shut down.

You clench your jaw as your breathing gets quicker, shallower, and you feel the unmistakable burn of tears in your eyes. “I’m fine,” your voice comes out cracked and weak, not at all the sound of someone who's fine. 

“Don’t pretend you’re okay. Please don’t lie to me, because I know you’re not okay!” Noah crosses the room to meet you, holding his hands outstretched towards you, “what can I do for you? Please, I want to help.”

You cover your mouth as you choke back a sob, wrapping your other arm around your middle; you can’t hold it in anymore, and the floodgates open. Gasping for breath that seems to never come, you grip the front of your shirt tight in your fist, the clothing suddenly feeling suffocating and stiflingly hot.

“Oh, baby. Come here,” Noah takes you by the shoulders and pulls you into his chest, where you fall into him and cling onto him like he’s your only lifeline. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? Slowly, in and out,” he strokes soothing circles against your back as he demonstrates to you how to breathe. “Come and sit down here, yeah? The couch is right here.”

You barely register your legs moving for the numbness extending across your entire body, from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. Your tears are hot on your face, and every time you try to wipe them away, they’re just replaced by more in a never-ending stream. The room feels like it’s spinning around you as you move, only worsening the feeling of nausea rising in your throat. The plush cushions of the couch are a welcome relief.

“You’re holding your breath, I need you to breathe. Just how I am, that’s it,” he cradles your head to his chest through your shaky attempts to take in a breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth. Your breath hitches uncontrollably with every inhale, taking in tiny bursts of air at a time. Noah, though, has nothing but praise on his lips: “That’s it. You’re doing so well, just listen to my voice.”

You missed his voice. As you worsened and withdrew, you found any excuse to avoid going out to see him, and you had been ignoring his calls for days. You knew you were doing it, and you missed him desperately, but with every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to reach out. It was hard for you to reach out for help in the first place, hard for you to admit to anyone that you needed help. Hard to admit it to yourself. Opting instead to suffer in silence and just push through it until you finally broke. You didn’t know any other way.

The familiar presence of him by your side eases the pace of your racing heart, allowing each breath to come a little easier. A little calmer. “I hate to see you hurting like this,” he whispers into your hair, his hand stroking through it gently, working to soothe the seemingly unquenchable anxiety. “I want to help you, please let me help you.”

It broke your heart to hear the pain in his voice. You never wanted to hurt him, but that’s all you seem to do. That cold hand of dread tightens its grip on your chest again, panic filling your lungs and replacing all the air. “I’m sorry,” you barely choke out, gripping onto Noah tighter. Warring with yourself, wanting to hold him close, but feeling like you need to push him away.

“You don’t need to apologise, ever. I’m here, I’m right here,” he runs his hand up and down your back, cradling you close. He can’t help but notice that through the fabric of your shirt, the bones of your spine are ever so slightly more prominent than before. He keeps his mouth shut. Focussing instead on quelling your distress and holding you tight in his arms. 

“I just- I fuck everything up. I can’t do anything right, I don’t deserve your love, I don’t deserve you-” Once you start talking, you can’t stop, finally letting it all out until Noah cuts you off, incapable of hearing you degrade yourself anymore.

“No. No, that’s not even remotely true. Don’t say that about yourself,” he says firmly, holding you just a little tighter. 

You shake your head against him, “all I do is hurt people and push you away, and I don’t know how to stop. You don’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have to put up with me.”

“I don’t ‘put up with you’. I love you, and I want to be here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

“You shouldn’t have to drop everything to come deal with me when you’re so busy. You deserve someone that isn’t so fucking hard to love.”

With that, Noah pushes you backwards by the shoulders, holding you there so he can look into your eyes when he speaks. “You are not hard to love. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of doing. You just…” He takes a deep breath, cupping your cheek and brushing away the tears from under your eyes. “You just need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

The image of him blurs when the tears overflow from your eyes again, your face crumpling as you bow your head. “You’ll leave me," your voice shaking with the force of your sobs.

"Why would you ever think I'd leave you?" he asks, dismayed by your fear.

"Everyone always leaves," you tell him, voice brittle and quiet, shaking your head. "It's only a matter of time before you leave too."

"I love you," Noah feels tears prick at his own eyes. "I love you so, so much. And I'm not going anywhere." He lifts your head, once again brushing away your tears so he can look into your eyes, "please trust me to help you."

"I'm just so tired," you confess, and he pulls you into his arms again. 

“I can't promise to fix all your problems, but I can promise you won't have to face them alone. There’s nothing you could do that would drive me away. And the things that would, I know you’d never do,” he runs a comforting hand through your hair as you cry, his other arm secure around your waist. Your tears soak into his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He wants you to give it all to him—all your sorrows, all your grief—so that he can bear it with you.

You desperately want to believe his words. To lean on him when you need him the most, but that insecure piece inside of you won’t let you yield. You don’t know how to open up to anyone without feeling like a burden.

Noah stays right there with you until the tears subside and your breathing evens out. Your head resting in his lap as he reassuringly strokes your hair, you feel the beginnings of a dull ache in your head that makes you drowsy. He rubs soothing circles into your back with his other hand, shifting slightly to get a better look at your face. “Have you eaten yet today?” He asks tentatively. Feeling your throat constrict under the pressure of guilt, you know you can’t lie to him. You know he sees right through you, so you decide to try being honest by shaking your head. “Want me to cook something for you? Or we can order something? My treat.”

You know he means well, but you don’t know how to say you don’t have an appetite without worrying him. He won’t let you go the entire day without eating, but all you want to do is sleep.

“Please talk to me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.”

On a shaky breath, you settle for a half truth. “I don’t think there’s anything to cook.”

“That’s fine, we can order food then. What do you want?”

Chewing on your lip, you freeze. The silence stretches on far too long for you to be deciding what restaurant to order from, it’s clear you’re unable to answer.

Noah sighs your name, “you have to eat something.” 

“I know. I just… I just don’t want to,” he remains quiet, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t feel hungry. Thinking about it is overwhelming. I just want to sleep so I don’t have to think about it.”

“What have you been eating these past few days?” He asks cautiously, his tone light. Conscious to not sound accusatory.

You sigh, knowing there’s no way of escaping this. “Microwave stuff, mostly,” you play with the fabric of his sweatpants, feeling his leg underneath, fidgeting your anxiety away. “Rice, oats, ramen. Stuff I don’t have to wash up after.”

“Have you been eating every day?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, the tension only thickening when you answer "no,” barely above a whisper.

You feel him nod. Quiet for a moment until he too speaks so quietly, you almost didn’t hear it. “You can’t go on like this.”

“I know,” you confess.

“Please let me help you.”

The desperation in his voice is what does it—the final straw. You sit up straight, turning to face him. Wiping the residual tears from your cheeks and looking him in the eye. You know it’s time to really be honest. 

“It’s hard for me-” Your voice catches in your throat as the threat of crying again creeps up on you, not quite realising how much your body would resist. Taking a second to compose yourself—a deep breath in, eyes closed, releasing it slowly—your resolve strengthens and you continue. “It’s hard for me to open up to people. To admit when I’m struggling. I’m so used to feeling like I’m burdening everyone with my problems, so I just keep it all to myself. And by the time I realise I’m going down that road again, it’s too late to stop it.”

“It’s never too late,” Noah says reassuringly, tucking both sides of your hair behind your ears—the left first, then the right. “I mean this in the most loving way possible, but you don’t get to decide whether you’re a burden. You don’t get to take that choice away from me. The choice to help you. Your problems will never be a burden to me, no matter how big or small. You will never be a burden to me. I love you. I choose you. And I’ll never think poorly of you for needing help, ever.”

You don’t know what to say. Your eyes fixed on his. One of your favourite things about him is his big brown eyes. Always so full of comfort. So full of love that even you, with all of your self-doubt, can’t deny it. “I’m sorry. I know you said not to apologise, but I think I need to. I’m sorry for making you worry and for pushing you away. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Noah takes your hands in his. Large palms enveloping your own entirely. “Seeing you hurting is what hurts me the most. I love you so much, all I want is for you to be happy and healthy.”

You squeeze his hands in yours, “I love you, Noah. I’ll try harder, I promise. Feeling so unwanted for so long before I met you, I think I didn’t realise just how lucky I am to have you until now.” Noah raises one of your hands, kissing the back firmly and holding it there, savouring the feel of your skin against his lips. Timidly, you ask, “can we get pizza?”

He breaks out into a smile, “of course we can! But you have to text your friends back first," he bargains, "even if it’s just something short.”

“Deal,” you can’t help but return his smile. “My phone is upstairs, I’m just gonna go get it.”

“Wait!” he calls as you stand, pulling you back to the sofa and into him with a hand on the back of your head, “can I kiss you first?”

Without a word, you lean into him, closing the gap between you and feeling his lips on yours for the first time in weeks. That familiar burn of tears threatening to escape your eyes returns, and when you pull away, those beautiful brown eyes are full of concern.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, laughing awkwardly, “happy tears. I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” his smile taking on a more solemn appearance this time. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, please don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t forget that I love you too. No matter what happens. No matter how stupidly self-destructive I act.”

Noah pulls you in for one final embrace before letting you retrieve your phone. You spend time texting back each of your friends, apologising for your absence and telling them you were okay, that Noah is here, and you’d explain more later. Noah, sitting at your right, creates your pizza order, periodically asking what else you’d like adding.

The two of you spend the night watching trash TV, settling into your usual comfort and hurling insults at the characters for making stupid decisions while you eat your food. Only realising after it arrived just how hungry you really were. And when you’re finished eating, Noah and you head upstairs.

You feel like a new person after you shower, coming out of the bathroom to find Noah relaxed against your headboard. The sheets on your bed changed, and a fresh set of clothes lay waiting for you to change into for bed.

Accepting finally how much lighter everything feels when someone is around to help you. You slide under the clean sheets, comforted by the warmth of Noah’s body beside you for the first time in too long. And just as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his hand stroking your back, you’re determined to never let things get this bad again. Knowing you need to trust him, because trust is the foundation of love, and you love Noah with every fibre of your being. And despite how hard it is sometimes, you need to let him love you back.

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

✉ C:/SYSTEM/APP/TAG

ᯤ 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗦 (21) :　 ⌞⬤ 7 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning | @english-fucker @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard | @seven-glass-kids @runadaggerthroughmychest

@lma1986 | @shayzillaaaa

⌞⬤ 5 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒⌝ @madamaaubergine | @thewrstinme | @amourtoken @livingdeceasedgirl | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

⌞⦵ 5 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻⌝ @xcllnt | @romanreigns-supreme | @slutforcoffein @deathofpeaceofmindem | @lovesick-evangelist

⌞◯ 4 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @bluestdai | @fadingangelwisp | @broken0mens @ferduttini

　+[MSG : join the taglist!]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

[fairysongs]

౨ৎ pretty scary﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: you're having an awful day and your boyfriend is kind of the best person ever.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: reader struggles with bpd, reader has slight mommy issues, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, depictions of overstimulation (NOT the sexy kind), reader has slight mood swings, established relationship, silly fluff, spencer reid is the perfect boyfriend, hurt/comfort KINDA? (reader is upset, spencer soothes her), lowercase writing sorry it's a habit/my preference, Fiona Apple Mention <3

word count: 3.1k

a/n: omg.. hiiii! this is my first silly post on this silly blog and its a very self-indulgent one as someone who has bpd and is told OFTEN how irritable i can get -_- .. im so nervous.com right now bcos ive never posted my writing on here but also excited..? yes yes.. on a huge spencer reid kick so if u liked this and have any requests they are open!! likes/reblogs/any feedback much appreciated :3!

today was just not your day.

the morning started out fine. it was actually kind of perfect. you spent the night at your boyfriend’s place, waking up just in time to see him getting ready for work. there was a smile that crept over your lips as you watched him adjust the tie hanging around his neck. you propped yourself up against the pillows as he caught your eyes in the mirror adjacent to the bed. your heart swelled at the sight of a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

“why are you staring at me like that, weirdo?” there was a little morning gravel in his voice but his tone was lighthearted enough to make you giggle. you fell back against the pillows, tucking one under your arm as you kept your gaze on him.

“what? i’m not allowed to stare at my boyfriend anymore?” you replied, a yawn falling off your lips. he playfully rolled his eyes in response, walking over to your side of his bed. he sat at the edge, one of his hands brushing some of your hair from your face.

“actually, no. they just passed that law last night while you were sleeping through coraline again.” you bit your lip, vaguely remembering begging spencer to put that movie on only to fall asleep on his shoulder twenty minutes in. you can only assume at some point he carried you from the sofa to his bed. you blushed at the thought, as if he hadn’t done it at least twenty times by now. clearly you weren’t used to the ‘princess treatment’ he liked giving you.

“oh, my fault then. please don’t arrest me, mr. fbi agent.”

“it’s dr. fbi agent, actually.”

“right…” you giggled again, beaming as he smiled down at you. “do you know if you have a case?”

“paperwork day.” his fingers started tracing small shapes against the skin of your arm. “of course if that changes, i’ll let you know. but hopefully it won’t. you can come over again tonight if you want. maybe we’ll finally finish coraline.” his voice was soft, ringing harmonies in your ear as you let your eyes flutter shut in the comfort. “need me to take you to work today?”

you hummed, reaching out to your phone sitting on his bedside table. you quickly rechecked your schedule and shook your head. “no, it’s okay. i go in a little later. it’s close enough to walk.” you tilted your head as you felt him tangle his hand in your hair again. spencer scratched delicately at your scalp.

“okay, my love. i washed the clothes you left here the other day. they should be in the second drawer of my dresser.” you nodded in response as he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead. you caught his jaw in your hands and pulled him downwards, giving him a proper kiss on his lips. he laughed quietly as you both pulled away. “have a good day, angel.”

“you too, baby.”

well to put it simply you did not have a good day. you got ready for your job at a local cafe and made it to work fine. it was when you got there that it started going downhill. you genuinely loved being a barista. you definitely had the personality for it. friendly, outgoing, kind and patient. it’s actually how you met spencer in the first place. but sometimes it was hard. especially with certain needy customers. most of your regulars were chill. you were actually friends with many of them, always asking about the new things in their lives whenever they’d come in. of course, though, there were always a few bad apples.

like this one particular older man. he came in every now and then and ordered the same thing every single time. black decaf coffee with a blueberry scone. he was always in a rather grumpy mood, not even your tender words could help that. so this morning when you gave him a black regular coffee by an honest mistake he made sure to let you know just how stupid and idiotic you were. you stood there at the counter, expression apologetic as he continued to berate you. eventually your boss told you to go in the back for a bit while she took care of things.

you practically ran to the bathroom, locking yourself in the tiny space as you tried to control your breathing. you could already feel the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. you absolutely despised how sensitive you could get. through shaky breaths, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it with a small sob. you had a few texts and one missed call from your mother. one of the texts was from spencer, letting you know it was just gonna be a paperwork day and inquiring what you wanted to order for dinner tonight. the other texts were from your mother, reminding you about a family party that was coming up soon. there was another text after her missed call.

- Guess you’re too busy to talk. Just let me know if you can make it.

you closed your eyes, feeling the passive aggressive tone through the message. the best way you could describe your relationship with your mother was that she was both your best friend and your worst critic. she tried to support everything you aspired to do, but also hated the way you did them. it was... complicated but her text was enough to leave you in a sour mood for the remainder of the day.

you felt like you couldn’t catch up. you couldn’t get over that bump setting you back from having a good shift. your head felt like it was elsewhere and no longer attached to your body, your movements becoming monotonous and your words dull. to make things worse, your eighteen year old coworker was coming in for their shift an hour before you were leaving.

and you loved them, you really really did. often times you would joke about them being your work child, taking them under your wing. but they talked. a lot. most days you could keep up no problem but with the way your mind was on a downward spiral today, all you could feel was immense overstimulation as they yapped in your ear about the latest tv show they were binge watching. soon it was all too much for you to handle and you end up snapping at the poor kid.

“dude i’m sorry but i don’t really care. can we just be quiet for, like, five minutes?” you interrupted them mid-sentence, tired eyes looking over with a slight glare. you immediately softened, eyes wide with guilt as they looked towards you like a kicked puppy. you tried your best to stammer out an apology but was met with silent treatment until you clocked out.

they would soon accept your apology in the next coming days and you’d go back to normal because that’s how you guys were, but the guilt would eat at you for quite a bit. when you were a kid, your parents often praised you on how self-sufficient and respectful you were. in your adolescent years, with the help of an untreated personality disorder and your regular teen hormones raging inside your cage of a body, your behaviour would suddenly change. you found yourself more irritable. more prone to overstimulation. you internalized a lot of what you were going through because every time you tried to bring up your feelings, your mother would shut you down and it’d turn into a fight.

you expressed yourself through slammed doors and screaming matches. you bottled things up until they overflowed. it was how you handled the thunderstorms behind your skull. you would eventually get better in time, finally attending therapy and finding solace in little things like journaling. and when you started dating spencer, he helped a lot too. your brain could sometimes make a lot of irrational judgements and spencer would help you see reasoning instead. he was also insanely patient with you. especially in the first two months of you guys dating where you broke up with him upwards of five times. each time because you didn’t believe you deserved him. (you still don’t believe it, but at least now you’ve stopped trying to fight the good coming into your life.)

you would never forget the first time spencer met your parents. the night was going well up until dinner time when your dad decided to pull out your old high school yearbook. at first it was just classic embarrassment as spencer looked at your school photos. but then your mother, after one too many glasses of wine, brought up your old struggles with anger.

“be careful getting on her bad side, spencer!” she had said, waving a finger in the air. “she’s got a scary temper for sure! remember when we had to replace her bathroom mirror because she threw her hairbrush at it?" she spoke like she was a comedian telling her greatest joke in the world as she turned towards your father. "i can’t even remember what made her so upset! but i remember how expensive that fix was…”

“oh i’m sure i’ve dealt with far worse at my job, ma’am. i think i can handle her just fine.” he was quick to reply and the hand pressing on your bouncing knee beneath the table calmed any nerves of him looking at you differently. later that night he’d hold you as you sobbed in his arms, retelling different memories of your past. he made you a promise that he’d never see you as a bad person as long as you promised him you’d talk to him whenever you started to feel like one.

you were finally walking home after this exhausting day and it wasn’t until you were changed into your comfy clothes and curled in bed that you realized you hadn't texted spencer back at all. with your knees pulled to your chest and a low hum of a fiona apple album playing from your record player you reached across your bed for your phone. you had four texts from him and one missed call.

- Hi angel. Haven’t heard from you all day, just checking in. - Hi, you should be clocked out by now. Just wanted to know if you still wanted to come over? We can order from your favorite italian place. - One missed call from spencer ♡. - Are you having a bad day, my love? Or did I do something wrong? - I’m gonna come over. See you soon, angel.

your brows furrowed together at the last text, sent just about ten minutes ago. you could feel your eyes well with frustrated tears. you felt like shit for unintentionally ignoring him. you couldn’t even think of what to say to him, but you had to think fast because soon you heard a gentle knock at your bedroom door. with a sniffle, you stood to your feet and slowly opened it.

you met spencer’s eyes, they were desperately searching your face. trying to figure you out, trying to see what was troubling your mind. you hated it sometimes when he profiled you, but most times you were grateful he could just know when you weren’t doing okay. saved you the shame of having to actually vocalize your feelings. you stepped back as he entered your room.

“your roommate let me in. she said you went straight to your room after work and have been listening to nothing but when the pawn… by fiona apple.” he was still in his work clothes, the same ones you watched him get dressed in just that morning. felt like an eternity ago at this point. before you could even let your face fall to the ground, his hands were holding your jaw, tilting it upwards and keeping it in place. he always held you like you were made of glass. “bad day?”

“you could say that.” you words were short and you didn’t mean for them to be. you were just so exhausted. “sorry i forgot to text you back. it’s just been…” you let your words fall off, waving your hands in the air with an annoyed huff. you pulled away from his touch, slumping back into your mattress. he just watched as you ran your fingers through your hair, eyes shut tight as if you were trying to talk yourself down. he bit his lip, taking a cautious step forward.

“you look like you’re trying to compute a million things at once right now inside that little head.” he shrugged off the sweater draping over his work shirt, tugged off his tie and kicked his shoes off besides your bed. you laughed sarcastically at his words but bit your tongue from replying with a snarky comment. “did you know that one of the brain’s primary functions is to collect and process sensory information? it’s kind of like there’s a little guy in there, sitting at his desk and filing through every bit of information that gets thrown at you throughout the day.” your eyes were still shut but you felt a dip in your bed as his voice grew closer to you.

“when there’s too much sensory input, it can make the brain think there’s danger, sending off signals to the body to escape. that’s when your fight-flight-freeze response gets triggered. aka that little guy’s desk is suddenly on fire and every file has been thrown all over the place and the little guy, well, the little guy is running around screaming for help.” you feel two arms wrap around your waist and maneuver your body until you felt your head resting against the warmness of his chest. soon enough you also felt slender digits running through the locks of your hair.

“you seem to resort to a fight response i’ve noticed. your body feels like you can overpower the danger your brain thinks you’re in. resulting in intense feelings of anger. which can lead to irritability.” you feel him tracing shapes, the same ones he made on your arms earlier that morning, deep into the small of your back. he always did the same movement pattern and you always wondered if that was intentional or just a coincidence. “do you wanna talk about what’s going on in here?” he poked an index finger to the side of your temple. you shook your head. “okay. we don’t have to. but i will ask about it later, is that okay?” you nodded this time.

you didn’t realize it when it was happening, but the combination of spencer pulling you into his arms and his soft voice spewing factual information at you was enough to make your head feel almost empty. your body was melted against his, curled up in his touch. you let out a shaky breath, slowly raising your head, resting your chin on his chest as your eyes opened. “how did you do that?” you whispered, soft hues scanning his face as he just smiled down at you.

“a magician never reveals his secrets, my love.” you rolled your eyes, laughing quietly as his hand lightly brushed your cheek. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. your lips twitched in thought, a tiny frown suddenly taking over your features. spencer tilted his head. “what is it, baby?”

your eyes fell to focus on his chest, your finger tracing over the fabric of his work shirt. “do you think i’m scary? like… when i get upset?”

“scary?” he repeated, voice in small disbelief that you’d even feel the need to ask. “no, i don’t think you’re scary. i think you’re beautiful. and i think your mind can be pretty mean to you sometimes. but that’s not your fault. hey, look at me please.” you let him guide your head back up, eyes meeting each other again. he smiled at you and it made you feel warm. “why do you think you’re scary?”

your shoulder shrugged with an exasperated sigh. “because it’s what i’ve been told my whole life. when i get too overwhelmed and i just feel nothing but anger i… i feel like i can get mean and i hate feeling that way. like, i always get too snappy and i always say something that’s gonna hurt someone i care about and i…” your breathing hitches. your lashes quickly blink, trying to fight any tears from spilling yet again. “i’m so scared i’m gonna get that way with you and you’re gonna leave me.”

he was shaking his head, thumb swiping underneath your eyes at the few tears that betrayed you and fell down your cheeks. he sighed out your name. “i don’t think you understand just how much i love you. if you think i’d leave you at something so silly like that. you know, i started reading up on borderline personality disorder after that night i met your parents. i wanted to understand it more. i wanted to understand you.” he continued wiping away your tears as they kept falling.

“i can’t even imagine what you go through inside your own head every single day, but i can acknowledge how hard you’re trying to cope with it. i see it all the time. i see it in the kindness you like to spread to strangers. i see it in the way you push yourself to learn new things and the way you stopped beating yourself up if it doesn’t turn out perfect. i see it in the way you love me, and more importantly in the way you’ve allowed yourself to let me love you back. you’re such a beautiful person, my love. it’s okay to have bad days and it’s okay to let yourself be a little mean sometimes.” he laughed quietly, noticing the way your lips were fighting a smile. he leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “as long as you just communicate with me when you’re feeling bad. that’s all i ask.”

you sat there for a moment, admiring the way his big brown eyes stared at you. your eyes fell for a moment before picking back up with furrowed brows. “i snapped at my coworker today.”

“the teenager?” you nodded. “ah,” spencer’s hand resumed circling around your back as he hummed. “they’ll forgive you, i’m sure of it.” there was a pause and then a small hum coming from his throat. “are you hungry? hm? let’s order some food.”

he ordered you your favorite pasta dish from your favorite italian restaurant and you fell asleep in his arms in the middle of coraline again. he couldn’t help but admire you resting so peacefully in his arms and continued tracing the words ‘i love you’ over and over again into your back for the rest of the night.

[ranticore]

im so curious about the kitchen nightmares au, is félix a waiter? are erica and jean creating crimes against the culinary arts in the back? why is esk of all people gordon ramsay

relevant background info was that when i first got my ipad and was getting to grips with procreate, i was also drafting the first go at mvf so i was drawing mostly refs and character designs, and while i was doing that on an ipad i realised that i could, for the first time ever, watch something on another screen while drawing. guess what i watched

this super old art was one of my first paintings all in procreate and i did it while watching kitchen nightmares. love the show (uk version only), it's absolutely terrible and fake and ramsay sucks but something Compels me

i drew a series of fake interview portraits for all main characters of mvf, as different staff members in a failing restaurant on the show. esk who was kind of the straight man/critical voice of the group ended up being the celebrity chef

anyway the basic plot is they work at a tacky outdated italian trattoria with all that entails, that serves french cuisine, in the year 2005. the restaurant was a money laundering front owned by helena but she was an absentee owner who would deny any claim over the restaurant flaws and be generally away & uncooperative

the restaurant was failing because it looked awful and the food was not good but also because the staff could not work well with one another and the constant arguments that customers would overhear was turning them off

the person who called in gordon ramsnake was the restaurant manager, Félix, in a very roundabout attempt to try to bring heat down on Helena

general overview of the staff & their flaws

Manager (Félix) - actively embezzling from the business, basically a middle manager tyrant trying to control everyone else, ambition of becoming the owner one day (and then they'll ALL see). Would deflect the blame for the restaurant's issues onto every single other person except Francis because he can do no wrong ever. Aw jeez guys we just don't know where the money is going!! Don't look at his meticulously-kept, well-hidden balance books or his incongruously nice car. He looks like the sleaziest businessman you have ever seen.

Head Chef (Jean, you guessed right) - confrontational and rude, could not accept criticism no matter what and would pick fights with customers who sent the food back. He could cook decently but only to his own schedule and preference. The type to go "my food is perfect and nobody can teach me anything" before esk convinces the owner to hire a new head chef who can actually listen to feedback. His prized menu hasn't changed in 7 years.

Front of House (Islin) - zero charm or charisma but otherwise pretty sincere, though it IS weird that an ordained priest is working here and not in a church somewhere. He explains in an interview around the back of the restaurant that he's identified a new route to finding converts because just knocking on people's doors hasn't had a good return. He has zero interest in any aspect of the restaurant experience. Attempts to preach to most of the diners.

Head Waiter (Erica) - he's clearly had no training and is never where he's supposed to be at any given time, and it almost looks like he's ambushing the diners while they're mid-bite on purpose. Calculated bare-minimum work while spending most of his time in the kitchens for some reason. In the course of the episode it's discovered that he makes a decent cook and gets relocated. He had a habit of telling customers that the food was bad even if it wasn't.

Barman (Francis) - eager to please and maybe the only truly friendly face in the restaurant, he's the only reason anyone comes back. But he has an inconvenient habit of giving steep discounts to women, so the bar almost never turns a profit. There have been a few complaints about Barman's inappropriate advances from diners & the fact that his shirt is always a little bit too open. He seems to believe that there's nothing wrong with the place and it's a perfectly legit successful business, so it's hard to get through to him to change his behaviour. Won't hear a word of criticism against Félix or Islin.

Sous-chef (Léá) - hates it here hates every second of every day can't stand anyone wants to be out of there asap but she knows she lacks the experience to actually be a sous-chef in a legitimate restaurant, which means she'd take a pay cut if she tried to find work anywhere else, so she's trapped. She has a habit of throwing parsley garnish far too liberally over every single dish because she read in a book from the 90s that this is how you get a Michelin star

Rival Restaurateur (Senca) - she runs an equally tacky fake unpopular italian trattoria across the street and she's been trying to get Helena's one shut down for years by doing various etsy badluck curses and getting the hygiene inspectors called on them but it hasn't worked yet. She suggested to Félix that maybe trying to get the restaurant on TV would draw enough negative attention to get it shut down (and then he could reopen it of course). She's a bit surprised he actually went and did it even though the show could not have been less flattering towards him and he's essentially turbo-nuked his own reputation into the dirt forever. But she's waiting behind the scenes to make an insultingly-cheap offer and then they'll ALL see

over the course of the episode the above flaws are identified. esk attempts to propose a remodel of the tired décor which is fiercely resisted by Félix because he kind of likes the fake tuscany look but eventually he gives in and the place is given a modern and fresh feel. it draws a crowd on its reopening night but the staff struggle to meet the demand, unused to such numbers, and it ends up with Jean refusing to cook and walking out (he's fired shortly after).

they regroup and organise a charming promo event where they serve real french cuisine in a stall outside (oysters mostly) to draw customers for a new lunchtime service. this is well-received because new Head Chef Léa (now even MORE trapped in a role she has no real claim to) doesn't have to cook the oysters so she can't fuck them up. Félix actually tries to be receptive to the staff he's managing, for once, and he does a good job of supporting them and finally effectively managing the floor.

episode ends with Esk walking away and wondering if it left the restaurant in good hands, concluding that "only time will tell". there's a sequence of the restaurant's one successful lunch service, everyone smiling and working well and diners happy, with the text "RESTAURANT closed its business in August 2005, three months after the filming of this episode".

Esk goes back to interview the owner and ask why it failed, and Helena just explains that she sold it and moved on while dodging every other question. Esk berates her for having no passion for the business, calls her lazy and immature, and she simply walks out of the interview.

[james-preble]

how do i form a habit

like

i have to do physical therapy exercises but so often i forget or js cant motivate myself to do them and i have the kind of schedule because of activities i do that i get home at wildly different times depending on the day so having an afternoon alarm isnt effective and by the time evening rolls around im more exhausted and in pain than usual so why would i do an exercise thats gna make me feel worse in the moment. also i could technically do them in the morning right when i wake up but like i have an extremely hard time getting out of bed and often feel awful until i make it upright and eat something except like half of the exercises are lying down so id have to go through the like twenty minute to half hour period where i feel like dhit snd cant motivate myself to get up and then eat and start getting ready and then find time to do physical therapy exercises but also somehow not be late for school

like

how do i form a habit. ive done the exercises maybe 5 times in 2 weeks

[alaskan-wallflower]

im thinking thoughts…have them. stan and kyle as gym bros. i love them sm. (NOT A SHIP just dudes being bros)

it was kyle’s idea during a basketball off season to start going to an actual gym but he wanted an accountability buddy so he convinced stan to join with him. unfortunately stan doesn’t wanna go half the time (he is busy with warhammer 4k) and kyle has to drag him by his feet to the car because god forbid he miss a workout but also god forbid he have to ask some beefhead to spot him

kyle is so judgmental of the other guys in the gym that grunt and slam weights and snort creatine off their biceps, stan is like “just ignore it dude” and kyle is like “🙄oh my god they are so annoying and no one is impressed by them and yayayayaya” u know how he is.. he’s probably told one or two to SHUT UP and it worked cus he used the jersey powers.

they would encourage each other and kyle would never judge stan for anything. they do rip on each other a little for fun though and get into some friendly competition, it’s harmless. stan prefers working his upper body, kyle is all about legs. gotta keep that butt. stan refuses to do cardio because it makes his asthma act up but kyle is a runner. though i think he would prefer running outside rather than a treadmill, so he doesn’t do that at the gym.

kyle takes preworkout for MaXimUm GAInS (he was persuaded by some tiktok) and once stan took some but it made him so anxious he threw up. aw.

its just a thing that they do together and they bond over and it ends up helping stan’s mental health so much and improving kyle’s confidence. kyle unfortunately would get so confident that he would make some really cringe gym tiktoks. (you know that one glow up trend. the “16 missed calls” one. he would fucking do that) and even though stan is all strong now, shelley can still take his ass down with ease

ok thats all i got for now

y’know what? i can see this

used to go to the gym myself during the summer (had a bad habit of skipping out during school because i got busy-i’m old enough to get a membership now though) and i’ve experienced true gym bros. like the ones who come out with their dumb little towels and slam the weights. it’s annoying lol-i get where kyle is coming from

and i can see him dragging stan along. he tried getting the whole group to go but when he asked cartman to spot him he wouldn’t do it, and when he did he let go of the weight. kyle nearly broke his back. maybe even broke a rib from it. cartman didn’t care. kenny was trying but with how much he works he’s usually unable to go. and his work schedule night as well be a workout for him. so it’s just stan and kyle.

stan probably kinda just sits there and watches for the most part. he works his arms and legs but that’s about it. like you said, he can’t go too far because of his asthma. likewise, kyle can’t go too far because of his diabetes, which frustrates him immensely. he tries to push himself when it comes to working out so someone usually has to intervene before he has a diabetic crisis. kyle defo has that sleeper build tho

(side note and a bit off topic but i feel like kyle would technically be overweight, but not with fat. muscle weighs more than fat, and kyle is mostly muscle, therefore i feel like he would classify as overweight but he’s not like chubby or anything. cartman keeps insisting on calling kyle fatass and saying ‘kyle being overweight is karma’ but he doesn’t seem to get that the way kyle is overweight and the way cartman is overweight are vastly different)

anyway. great headcanons, i love love love!!

[rodolfoparras]

ALECC!!! i haven't come up here in so long 😔😔 life update?? so three days ago, i had a HUGE panic attack for no reason & the aftereffects r WILD. let me tell u i could NOT eat anything beside mashed potatoes and/or MILK. 😔💔. i went to the doctor & got some meds shot, turns out i've been stressing abt some life shenanigans 😦💥 for the past 3 days i couldn't eat proper food, had to vomit every few hours, had such bad stomach ache, and (most importantly) could NOT kiss my pookie cookie wookie ☹️

everything should be fine now (i hope), cus i got prescribed meds & i'm TRYING to eat anything even in small portions. i'm tryna rebuild my eating habits cus APPARENTLY all that nausea was from having shit meal schedules. i'm working on it trust & believe 🤞🤞

OH AND i found out i'm allergic to things i can NOT avoid, which are: the cold, dust, and FUR. I HAVE A DOG, ME & MY BF R PLANNING TO GET A CAT TOGETHER ☹️☹️☹️ i'm allergic to the cold but i can't STAND the hot weather like 😭😭 pick a struggle man 💀 but yeah i think that's all, how's ur day been sir 🫡

-🧼

Sugar bee that sounds absolutely fucking awful Jesus Christ I’m so sososos sorry you’re going through that:((( I’m giving you the biggest warmest hug and I kiss your little head I wish you nothing but the utmost best from here on little friend

But im so happy to hear that you got prescribed meds!! I hope they do you well and yes absolutely!’ Eating well and sleeping well are very important for one’s mental health even though people overlook that a lot :(

Also my sister has the same issue with cold!!! But I didn’t know one could be allergic to dust does it just make you sneeze a lot?

My days been well little love!! A wee bit sleepy a wee bit tired but that’s Mondays to you how’s your day ? I wish you a lovely week!!

[alucart]

y'all mind if i ramble at 3am

so. i started working at macys back in october. im a seasonal worker then. work was busy almost constantly bc hey, holiday season. the lines are busy. i have to constantly deliver packages w/e. it wasnt that bad? even when it was black friday or we had friends & family it did not feel bad. sure i felt a little strained bc no free time but i was like at least i have something to put on my resume!

so then its the end of my seasonal schedule. im like yeah im done w/ this. its fine. i start looking for work while im unemployed. didnt get the unemployment ok w/e. having better control of my spending. my moms bday comes and goes. its all good. my mental health is great! i get a call from my manager asking if i want a full time position. part of me is like. dont do it. other part of me is like. go for it.

i go for it. its like the worst mistake ever. customers are somehow more ruder and impatient than when it was the holiday season. my hours are fucking awful because im full time. like seriously, 40 hours a week when im only getting paid 17 an hour?!?! one week i had 50 hours and i had a fucking breakdown on my day off and now i have panic attacks before i have to go to work. i took a mental health day last week or something bc i just couldnt do it anymore. my spending habits got Worse. like genuinely.

i have a hard time paying my bills its like awful lol. im bipolar so like, its not helping. i find it hard to finish up things i needed to finish months ago. and to top it off, i can find myself unable to control my anger, something ive been decent at controlling but now the customers are actually pushing me to my limit. like im sorry but if youre gonna treat me like a doormat you have another thing coming.

also the fucking customers!!!!!! i wish people would read!!!! stop arguing with me!!! READ!!!! DONT ARGUE WITH ME WHEN I TELL YOU TO GO TO A DIFFERENT DEPARTMENT!!!! WALKING IS GOOD FOR YOU!!!! YOU FUCKERS!

[https-heizou]

case files: leila. [info sheet]

name: leila

age: 22

pronouns: she/her

species: human

vision/weapon: geo catalyst

job: dancer at the zubayr theatre

love interest: n/a

home country: sumeru

known relatives: nilou (sister)

known nicknames: nilou often calls her 'lele' and leila in return calls her 'nini'

claimed emoji: 💎

lore. leila is the twin sister of nilou, a renown dancer of the zubayr theatre. leila is also a dancer alongside her sister and they often do performances together. leila is a close friend of kaveh however she doesn't have many other friends.

leila did attend at the akademiya and graduated from the rtawahist darshan, specialising in astronomy and the stars. this is reflected in her attack styles. she however went straight back to dancing with her sister.

whilst nilou is a talkative young lady, leila is much quieter and will keep her head in astronomy books. both sisters are prone to helping out everyone they can however leila is less likely to be the one that the people around zubayr theatre will go to.

further lore is wip.

notable songs from her playlist. run - onerepublic. scars to your beautiful (acoustic version) - alex g. habibi (albanian remix) - ricky rich.

voicelines.

hello: "my apologies, i didn't hear you approach - i've been reading this book on stellar structure all morning. i'm leila from the zubayr theatre. for today's performance schedule, please speak to my sister."

chat: darkness: "people live in fear for most of their sorrowful lives. how will the stardust in us shine, if we keep fearing the darkness our whole lives?"

chat: nap: "nilou isn't around, is she? can you watch my back while i take a quick nap?"

chat: performances: "sometimes my sister and i perform late at night. it's more time friendly for our spectators but i wish i could spend those moments under the stars."

when it rains: "it's raining... we best lay low until the rain stops. it's impossible to use the stars to navigate in this weather."

when thunder strikes: "is this necessary? can't we hide indoors until the storm passes? what? me... scared? of course not! let's keep moving."

when it snows: "snowflakes are like the stars, they are all unique and not one is the same. in a way, settled snow is like a frozen cosmos within our reach."

when the sun is out: "this weather is perfect for performing but... it gets me all sweaty so quick. if only i could take a nap instead."

when the wind is blowing: "make sure you don't lose your balance! here, hold onto me."

good morning: "good morning. i didn't expect to see you here this early. hm? oh, i like to watch the sunrise before my daily perfomances. you should join me next time."

good afternoon: "it's lunch already? collei stopped by this morning with her homemade pita pockets, have you tried one before?"

good evening: "nilou and i are about to perform, are you staying to watch?"

good night: "my sister says it's good to let your frustrations out before you sleep so remember that the stars will always listen to your troubles should you speak to them."

about leila: sweet tooth: "i can never say no to sugary foods. it's awful, really. i need to eat healthy for my work."

about leila: astral performance: "the akademiya long shunned the performing arts before lesser lord kusanali's release so i made a habit of going out to the avidya forest to dance. there's no one to judge you, just you and the stars. to perform to them is the highest honour."

about us: travelling: "you've travelled all over teyvat, right? im so jealous... can i perhaps join next time? i'll have to request a month's leave from the theatre but i'd like to witness the stars from the highest peaks of liyue - you know someone who knows good locations? even better!"

about us: constellations: "i'd like to teach you some of the constellations. hm? well the stars are a great source of navigation on your travels, you can always count on them to get your bearings. i'd hate for you to get lost before you get to see one of my shows."

about the vision: "i got my vision during my first performance under the stars. i vowed that night that i would dedicate my life to performing with my sister. i'd been so lost on the path of my life before then. i like to think the geo archon listened to me."

something to share: "it's important that we endure the tough moments in life that come from hard work. if we don't, we fail to see our potential shine in our accomplishments."

interesting things: aranara: "have i ever heard of the aranara? oh... so you can see them too? theyre quite fond of my performances. hm? how can i see them? that's a secret."

interesting things: mourning flowers: "mourning flowers hold such a dark beauty. they bloom where battles have been fought and blood has been shed. it just shows even the most beautiful things hide secrets."

about nilou: favours: "nilou and i are always the first ones the zubayr theatre come to when they have a problem. we don't mind but my sister has a tendency to never know how to say no... i wish she could stand up for herself instead of overworking herself."

about nilou: flower crowns: "when we were children, nilou and i would always venture out of the city to sit on the grass and make flower crowns. she was always much better at it than i was."

about kaveh: "kaveh is a little dramatic sometimes. when we were students, i'd often walk quicker to act like i wasn't with him when he would rant loudly. you know, it's embarrassing to study in the house of daena when he's angry at his roommate."

[fairy-made]

I hate that bc Im trying to take my health more seriously I keep seeing all this fitspo exercise influencer garbage. And its always “what I eat in a day” and “What exercises I did to drop 100+lbs”. And its always that they drink juice for 2 meals and eat once a day. And they go running in some beautiful wide open landscape with no one else around every day for an hour. And they lift weights in a posh women only gym. And they live alone, and their schedule is open from 6am - bed time because I guess… fitness influencer is their full time job?

Not their fault or anything. But I wish the algorithms could show me people who are… not that? I live in a house with other people who either dont eat at all, or eat too much of the worst things. We typically eat together, so surprise! I’ve picked up both of their eating habits and have a terrible relationship with eating. I work until 6pm and am tired after, even after I manage to just walk for a bit after work! I cant fathom lifting weights if I’m borderline passing out after that. There aren’t any women only gyms nearby, I don’t have space for large equipment at home…

All obstacles I need to overcome, I know. You have to learn to make health fit into your life. But man it just makes me sad when some people have most of their day to be healthy. How the fuck do other normal people do that? I hear its going to the gym at 4am in addition to a bit of exercise after work, but that sounds god awful.

Ahhhhh just nevermind me, I’m basically moaning at this point. 🫤

[rex101111]

I'd love to see some commentary on Swipes of Sword and Fan, I'm curious when it comes to more variety-type fics where the inspiration for different chapters comes from and the like. And here's a ⭐ for anything you'd like to talk about in general about whatever!

Thank you!! Looking back im actually pretty proud of this little collection im slowly building up, though to be honest I didn't give it too much thought when I started.

It started out as a bit of a joke, the first chapter was basically just me posting one of the drabbles I sometimes write when somebody sends me a quick description. I just rolled with the premise while staying as close to those two crazy criminals as I could. I posted it as the first chapter of a "collection" half jokingly as an affectionate jab at a trend in fanfiction that is kinda dead these days but was damn near impossible to avoid just a few years back.

People taking an entire prompts list, anywhere from thirty to a hundred, and using that to make a chronologically loose collection of stories based entirely around one ship or group. A select few went the distance and did the whole bunch, but most of them stopped at around the 15 mark. Which is plenty impressive, sure, but it always struck me as evidence that fanfic writers have an awful little habit of biting off more than they can chew.

A habit I'm sure long time readers of my work will no doubt know that I share. The amount of times I said "IM GONNA MAKE A LONG FIC OUTTA THIS ONE JUST YOU WATCH" to myself only to get distracted later on by scheduling issues or just getting attached to another idea... Ah well.

So, yeah, I posted that first chapter as a bit of a jab at myself "oh yeah sure im going to make a collection out of this, the whole nine yards!...probably gonna make it an even 30, be surprised if it hits 15", and the first few chapters came to me like lightning. Since I established the setting in the summary, I pretty much gave myself the freedom to make any story I wanted so long as it was in that very vaguely defined period of time.

Any story. Any at all. Whatever weird idea came to my head with these two that I could fit on two-three pages. I kinda went nuts. Most chapters were born from a quick idea I had like "hey so what if anji got jealous?" or "how do they deal with bounties anyway?" and others I had to really sit with like "...what were Baiken's parents like?" or "tying shoes must be a pain in the ass" or "oh hey what if Anji actually did feel guilty and afraid of his actions hurting the one person he cared about" and so on.

It's gotten to the point where I'm actually fairly certain I will hit that 30 chapter mark at some point. I'm not putting myself on any time line, I just post whenever I have a suitably dense and short story I wanna add. And boom.

and im gonna use the star as a chance to rant a little about how petty I personally can be about comments. First off, I love getting any kinda comment at all, if its a simple "OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS" or something along those lines, I will gobble it up like its delicious because it is.

But! Personally speaking if you really wanna make me happy as a writer, I really REALLY like those comments that pick a sentence or a segment and go "OH I REALLY LIKE THIS PART HERE'S A QUICK RANT WHY". Been this way since I wrote weird OC shit on DeviantArt back in the day, craving that very specific "you did good" validation.

Seriously tho, if a reader doesn't have it in them to write a Formal Review of my fanfic I'm not gonna hold it against them. I probably won't answer because I'm honestly genuinely awkward like that. But the dopamine shot of "Comment on AO3" lasts longer if the comment is also longer, you know? I've read comments that made me dance in place and pump my fists like I won a marathon. that shit rocks and readers who take the time to indulge my need for overly specific praise are a treasure.

[bitdemonic]

hiii i hope ur having a great dayyy i would like to participate in ur tarot game <3

my initials are rm, im a libra sun, pisces moon and gemini rising

im choosing two and eight

also im super obsessed with ur whole aesthetic and account !! I love ittt and im definitely turning the notifications on bc ur last post was EVERYTHING

thank u for the game <<33

hi sanny🤭 apologies for the long ass wait bae and tysm for your super kind words! hope this resonates mwah

no. 2🍹 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜

🃏6op. 6os. 6ow. the lovers. justice. ideation. comfort. fear.

the sexual dynamic between the both of y’all feels safe and comforting, it’ll be gentle and adoring despite passion’s intensity. bedroom pleasure is soft, very baby or vanilla ice cream—sweet but not overwhelmingly. y’all leave the impression of doing for each other instead of simply just doing, there’s appreciation over the bond before and above everything else. actions that apply to this sentiment could be fluffing pillows for a better prop up, massaging shoulders or feet, whispering love affirmations, washing each other’s bodies after etc. self care is a ritual when it comes to sexual regime, but with the number 6 (virgo’s house in astro, schedule and routine) being prominent in the cards y’all could practice self care religiously.

y’all will spoil each other for sure, the 6op indicates that this connection will include balance or give and receive. very libra energy, the scales are even when it comes to y’all’s happiness and pleasure together (ideation in this sense). this can symbolize shopping for sex toys together, suggesting new positions for both partners (think 69), deciding to spend longer in bed for another round, etc. because i sense saturn’s presence a bit im guessing that this type of solidification was earned. there’s restriction around either intimacy or relationships, maybe love in general? it’s even possible all three could’ve caused a delay in having sex, or at least withheld it longer than intended. the fear card represents that, but it seems to heal whenever y’all are together.

✞

no. 8🍸 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

🃏 knaveoswords. 8op. knightocups↺. the tower↺. stop. pain↺. balance↺.

drink number eight is my favorite and this is exactly why lmao. before i even started writing, “come run your hands through my hair” and “that’s why it’s there” was a constant. these are lyrics from ariana grande’s song “my hair” and this translates into someone being a ‘lip bite, finger plunge into their scalp to keep from screaming’ person—on the occasion it’ll be yours too. it keeps them from acting clinically insane, i even heard “outrageous”. tossing their head backwards with a stifled moan, or blowing out tufts (tufts) of air before pulling their lip into their mouth. this fs is someone that tends to present themselves as grounded even if they actually aren’t, they’re not a fan of the vulnerable or weak state at all. it’s the same when it comes to sex, if not stronger, so an idgaf war is bound to happen (they’ll lose drastically).

animated or expressive faces are here, but with a piscean nature to them (emotional, deep thought). them being in pleasure is the literal textbook definition of being in awe, just add knitted brows and a slack jaw instead. their pupils will be blown as well, half-lidded and fucked to pieces because “wow”—it’s resemblant of a puppy’s, when they’re either shining with sadness or gleaming with excitement. 8op here, this person has a (specific) quirk that they’ll act on to keep from releasing early. for example, there’s this p-star that i (used to) watch and his restraint tactic was biting the side of his finger so he wouldn’t cum. your partner has that same habit, except it’ll be during a certain act (oral, kissing, foreplay etc). this person is prob sensitive hence the need to retain composure.

with the tower being a major arcana card (catalysts, major events in life), this fs will always have a buildup of emotions when they’re experiencing gratification. “getting worked on” came in, this could def point to them receiving head especially since i mentioned that they’re prone to sensitivity (could be down there specifically). this also means explosive orgasms or “big” finishers, moments that’ll leave them shaking or clenching. “tumultuous.” it starts off quiet then ends off loud, or strong in their case. it’s literally reminiscent of an actual tower falling, the slow crumble before it comes crashing down.

✞

[sjournsni]

It's crazy

It's crazy how being self-aware doesn't help much other than the fact that now you have this part of yourself that you really dislike but it's more pronounced but there's nothing you can do about it because you dont have the will to change, because when I took a shower this morning all i was thinking was "fuck, I shouldn't have agreed to schedule everything i need to do today in order, because if one of this is ruined then everything is ruined" it's like im watching myself from the outside in as i lie to my friend and said i wasnt ready to meet up with her as im lying in bed IN THE OUTFIT I PREPARED LAST NIGHT\\\ then i have to keep up with the lie and its a whole thing and its just,, going through your bad habits as you are aware of them is awful it feels disgusting.