#fun quirks of neurochemistry

[lunarleylines]

Oh wow... While I can't specifically relate to the homework folder bit (I was diagnosed in my 30s, but I've realized several other fun things going on as a kid), the adult bits sound so familiar it hurts.

That being said, the idea of setting alarms to remind you to do things, that become useless after sometimes as little as day two, are infuriating. I've had reminders on my calendar for over a year to do normal things that I manage to ignore every time they come up, regardless of additional steps like leaving the alert in my notification list so I keep seeing it over and over again.

It's why I switched to using an app specifically for medication tracking from my original calendar reminders option. The app has an alert that pops up with the ability to log the meds for that time of day, and it goes off again a few times if you don't either mark them as taken or skipped, and it's set to start going off just before I have to leave for work in the morning, meaning if I haven't taken them yet, I get the ping, but if I have, I can flag that, and then later I'm not worried about whether or not I took things. That being said, I also had it set up to remind me about supplements I should take at bed time, but my bed time is so inconsistent (or stupidly late) that it would go off well beforehand, and I would ignore those every single time for like 2 years straight until finally just disabling that one.

My ex and I had similar ADHD couple fun as well. We regularly played that game of "I can hear your alarms when you can't", but also "I spent 5 minutes looking for the thing you've been searching for all day and noticed it immediately because it's not part of my mental snapshot of the house".

When I was a kid I kept failing classes because I'd lose my homework. I'd finish it, but between the dining room table and the classroom it would just walk away. Sometimes it ended up in my backpack, sometimes it didn't; sometimes I finished the homework at school and it got home in my backpack but wasn't there the next day.

To attempt to address this, my parents got me a neon orange folder to put in my backpack; it was my homework folder, all homework was to go into that folder and that folder only, and it was to only come out of that folder when it was being worked on. I was to put homework in the homework folder as soon as it was assigned and if I'd worked on it, put it back in the folder as soon as it was finished. The logic here was that using the folder was supposed to be automatic, and you wanted a bright color so it wouldn't get lost in the depths of a backpack.

I think I lost about eight of those before my parents stopped buying orange folders.

So it was very frustrating to search "how to be organized at work as an adult with ADHD" only to get a list that said "set alarms and write things down and try to make friends with a more organized person" which was immediately followed by tips to help your ADHD child stay organized and the one right at the top was to put their homework in a bright folder so they couldn't lose it.

If you have been harmed by the ADHD Tips Industrial Complex you may be entitled to a packet of fun-dip and a cactus cooler as consolation for losing your homework folder again.

[jared-19-cant-reid]

Mirror, Mirror

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader (no “y/n”)

Rating: M

Summary: A stranger catches your eye from across the bar. He seems reserved at first, but you can tell he’s holding something back. When he gets you alone, you see a side of him you didn’t expect-- but definitely weren’t complaining about.

Word Count: 3.7K

Content Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, suggestive dialogue, Dom!Spencer, Brat/Sub!Reader, daddy kink, choking, fingering, oral (female receiving), slapping, light degradation, overstimulation, other general filth

A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write! It ended up being a little (gasp) fluffy at the end, maybe if literally one person asks me to I’ll do a part two. Hope y’all enjoy!

Shooting the bartender a grateful smile, you raised the shot of tequila to your lips. You scrunched up your nose at the burn; you still weren’t used to the taste of alcohol. As a warm feeling spread through your chest, you began to relax. You were here to have a good time, after all-- at least, according to your friends. 

They had dragged you here claiming you needed to “loosen up”, and it seemed to be working. By now, the hypnotic music had drowned out all lingering worries that would have otherwise plagued you, and your friends were pleasantly surprised when you didn’t protest as they dragged you to the dance floor. 

As you swayed your body to the rhythm of a song you didn’t know, you felt the stress of the week melt off of you. Responsibilities be damned, you were going to have fun tonight. Your laugh floated like bubbles from your lips into the air and your body moved smoothly of its own accord like you had been hypnotized by the booming bass, and you were so lost in your own world you almost didn’t notice the man staring at you from the bar. Almost.

His piercing gaze only met yours for a second, dropping to the drink in his hand when he realized he had been caught staring. A small smile formed on your lips as you said a quick goodbye to your friends, ignoring their cheers in favor of examining the man you were now approaching. Even in the low light, you could tell his was the kind of face that haunted your daydreams for years after you saw it. 

By the time you were close enough to admire his hazel eyes, they had found yours, his eyebrow quirking up as you sat on the barstool next to him. Running a nervous hand through his hair and taking a sip of something that looked like whiskey, he clearly hadn’t expected to be approached by the stranger he’d watched from afar. Something about his hesitance only drew you in more. What was he holding back?

“See something you like?” you asked coyly, batting your eyelashes at the man you were growing more interested in with every second spent in his proximity. He coughed mid-sip, taken aback by your forwardness. When he regained his breath, his eyes flickered up and down your body once more, the way they lingered on your curves sending a surge of pride through your chest. There was something behind the curiosity in his gaze, but you couldn’t tell what. 

“I, uh…” he struggled for a response, eventually landing on “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You chuckled in response, amused at the thought of being bothered by catching this polite, insanely attractive man looking at you. You quickly reassured him you were anything but uncomfortable, which sent a red tint to his ears, clearly unused to such overt flirting. A smile ghosted over your lips as you told him your name, and you were met with his in return: Spencer. 

You resolved to find out just what Spencer was holding back, inviting him outside. He hesitated at first, but seemed relieved to get out of the crowded bar as he followed you through the doors. As you looked at him under the light of the streetlamp, you realized the dim bar light hadn’t done him justice. 

You imagined how the slight stubble on his jaw would feel against your inner thighs, trailing your eyes up and down his body once more as you took in the details that you had been so cruelly deprived of before. He did the same to you, though more subtly and quickly, clearly still trying to be respectful. You hoped he wasn’t too attached to that goal.

“What’s a guy like you doing in a bar like this?” you questioned, genuinely curious. “It doesn’t really seem like your scene.” It didn’t; his reserved manner and clear disdain for crowds had stuck out like a sore thumb. 

“Long day at work. I came with some coworkers but they left a little while ago.” he spoke, downward gaze conveying his reluctance to talk about work. I decided to avoid the subject.

“Guess I’m lucky you decided to stay, then,” you smiled. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you took a deep breath and rushed the words out: “Do you maybe want to get a cab back to my place?”

He paused, eyes scanning your face once more. “You’re drunk,” he observed.

“I’m tipsy at best. Not that it matters, I’d invite you home stone cold sober.”

The corners of his mouth twitched up at that, but he stopped himself, pressing his lips into a thin line before speaking again. “Did you know that alcohol consumption increases levels of dopamine and norepinephrine in the brain, lowering inhibitions, increasing excitement, and encouraging impulsivity?”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. “I’m not hearing a no. Last time I heard, dopamine wasn’t a bad thing. Actually, I’m thinking of a few other ways I could get a dopamine rush right now.”

Your neurochemistry-based flirtation seemed to be his breaking point, wordlessly pulling out his phone and struggling with his phone as he ordered an Uber. Your brows furrowed in confusion, replacing the victorious smile that had spread across your face. 

“I thought we were going to my place?”

“Mine’s closer, I promise,” he replied, putting his phone away. As his hands struggled with the power button, you couldn’t help but stare. You blinked away images of one of his large hands gripping your wrists, wrapping around your neck, trailing down your body… You looked back up to see him fighting a smirk, clearly having caught you looking. 

Your heartbeat quickened at the realization that this was actually happening, and he noticed the change in your face. Before he could speak, you stepped forward, coming close enough to smell his cologne and feel his body warmth. You hadn’t realized until this moment how tall he was-- he had to be at least 6 feet tall, maybe 6’1”. As you looked up at him, you could see the tension in his body as he clung to his last ounce of restraint. You leaned forward slowly, feeling his breath on your lips as your eyes fluttered shut, only to open again in surprise when he pulled back.

“Not yet.” he said simply, gritting his teeth and taking a step back as your Uber pulled up to the curb. As you got in the car, your heart raced with anticipation, every second until you could be alone together feeling like an eternity. You tugged at the hem of your tight dress, trying to cover up a little in the nighttime chill. Still bitter about the almost-kiss, you decided to tease him a little bit. 

Pressing your thighs together, you gasped lightly and pulled your lip between your teeth. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you, and though he didn’t respond verbally you knew you were in trouble. The space between you in the backseat felt electrically charged, the stolen glances you shared on the quiet ride to his place leaving you buzzing with anticipation. 

He was right to say his was closer, you realized as the car came to a stop mere minutes after leaving the bar. Though you’d been impatient to arrive, once you actually stepped out of the car you were hit with a wave of nerves. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had one night stands before, you had, but never with someone you felt this strongly about. Going home with someone you were so drawn to was a sharp contrast with your lukewarm chemistry with frat guys who would take home any girl with a pulse. 

As he fumbled with the lock on the door, you studied him one last time. This wasn’t a man who would bring a girl home just for the sake of a warm body in his bed. This was a man who thought things through carefully, who had moved with purpose once he’d made his decision. You wondered what new side of him lay beyond this threshold. You didn’t have much time to think about it before he opened the door, nodding for you to go in first. 

Stepping inside, you looked around to find a cozy room you immediately felt at home in. Several bookshelves lined the walls, and as you admired his collection you found it well organized but messy enough to show the books were well loved. An old chess set caught your eye, along with assorted Star Trek memorabilia and trinkets you couldn’t identify the origin of but you were sure held sentimental or intellectual value. You thought you saw a cane leaning against the wall next to the umbrellas, but the train of thought was interrupted when you were slammed back against the door. 

All the air was knocked out of your lungs, not by the impact, but by the intensity of the hungry look in Spencer’s eyes. You were caged in by his arms on either side of you, unable to escape even if you wanted to, but instead of the fear you likely should have felt, your chest was buzzing with pure excitement. He towered over you, his face mere centimeters from yours as he began to speak, his voice low.

“Such a pretty little girl. Just need someone to teach you to behave,” he spat out. Your eyes widened at the words, barely containing a whimper as you looked down to find there was little space separating you. One of his hands left the door to grip your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Don’t you have any manners, little girl?”

“Sorry,” you managed to squeak out. His words had affected you more than you thought they would; you were under his spell within seconds of his attention. 

“Sorry, what?” he demanded.

Your eyes widened. You weren’t totally new to this type of play, but you weren’t expecting it from him. You took a guess: “Sorry, sir.”

“Try again.” 

The words send a jolt of electricity through your body. Holy fuck, you thought, is he saying what I think he’s saying? You tried again, your voice barely above a whisper: “Sorry, Daddy.”

His pupils blew wide, his grip on your jaw tightening. “Good girl,” he breathed. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

You took a second to think about it, finally landing on “sunflower”. 

That was the confirmation Spencer needed to move, closing the space between you in a powerful, hungry kiss. You matched his intensity and tangled your hands in his curls and tugged, earning a moan from him that shot directly to your core. His left hand came down to explore your chest as his right stayed on your jaw, holding you in place. 

You let your hands roam as much of his body as they could reach, one trailing down his torso and reaching the waistline of his pants before a tight grip around your wrist stopped you in your tracks. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled. “You don’t get to touch me unless I give you permission. Greedy girl, just begging to be taught a lesson.”

If you weren’t pressed against the door, your knees would have buckled at that. Your breath hitched as he brought his other hand to your neck, squeezing experimentally. The moan that escaped your lips was embarrassingly loud, and the smirk on his face told you this was only the beginning. 

“Look at you, so pathetic for me. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He drawled in a sickly sweet voice.

His hand on your chest wandered lower, slipping under the hem of your dress. You strained to get closer to him, but he pulled his hand away as soon as you moved. You started to complain, but the force with which he pinned your hips to the door with one hand muted you. 

“Be a good girl and stay still for me or you’ll get nothing at all.” He reprimanded.

You nodded, breath shallow as his hand began to trace your inner thighs, so close yet so far from where you wanted him most. You were about to whine when he pulled your panties to the side and, at an unbearably slow pace, eased one finger into your heat. You were panting already, struggling to follow his command to stay still but too desperate for more to do anything that would make him stop. He added a finger and you cried out as your eyes fluttered shut. Apparently Spencer didn’t like that, because his grip on your throat tightened exponentially, demanding your attention.

“Look at me while I’m ruining you, baby.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his fingers, curling them to hit that spot that made you see stars. You felt like you were going to pass out from pleasure, but you used all your restraint and remaining energy to stay standing and watch Spencer’s face. The man you were looking at now was almost unrecognizable from the man you’d met at the bar. His eyes were hard and unforgiving, and his pace was brutal as he studied your face, watching you fall apart on his hand. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the peak you were so desperate for, but right when you reached the edge he pulled his hand away.

You couldn’t hold back your complaints that time, and his expression darkened as he listened to you whine. You were met with instructions to “shut the fuck up,” as he so eloquently put it, but you wanted to push him.

“What makes you think you have power over me?”

You could tell he was pissed, but instead of yelling, he remained perfectly quiet. Without a word, he raised his hand and forced your jaw open and brought the fingers that had just been inside you to your lips, his silent command hanging in the air.

Opening your mouth wider, you allowed his fingers to enter, wrapping your lips around them and making a show of it. If he was going to shut you up, you were gonna take back some power while he did it. Hollowing your cheeks around the digits, you flattened your tongue against them and cleaned them of your taste. You watched him swallow as he watched you, fully aware of what you were doing. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and wiped them on your cheek before grabbing your wrist and whispering words that sent a shiver down your spine: “You’ll pay for that.”

Before you could even try to respond, he turned and pulled you to his bedroom. You didn’t even have time to look around before you were practically thrown onto the bed. Spencer walked around the bed slowly, watching you with predatory eyes. When he got to the end of the bed, he grabbed your legs and pulled you down so your hips were close to the edge, allowing your dress to ride up to your stomach. 

You saw him getting on his knees, you felt him pull your panties down your legs before discarding them, you were given every hint of what was coming next, but you were still shocked when you felt his tongue against you. A strangled cry left your lips at the sensation, overwhelming your senses as his hands roughly gripped your hips to hold you down. You tangled your fingers through his messy curls, gripping them as if they were all that was holding you to this world. He was merciless in his attack on your bundle of nerves, tasting you like it was for his pleasure instead of yours. It wasn’t long before you felt the tension start to build in your stomach, and you tried to form his name in warning but all that left your lips were broken moans and unintelligible pleas. 

He didn’t ease up, continuing his ministrations as you fell into ecstasy. Your orgasm pulsed through your body in waves, its intensity drowning out everything but the pure feeling of bliss that accompanied that release. You pulled at his hair as you came down, but he kept going, sending jolts through your body. You cried out at the overstimulation, whimpering as the knot formed in your stomach once again, building more quickly since you were still sensitive from your first orgasm. Another wave of pleasure tore through you, your moans becoming softer as you recovered.

Spencer stood up and leaned over you, clearly enjoying seeing you this wrecked for him. He brought a gentle hand to your cheek, wiping away tears of overstimulation you hadn’t noticed forming. You leaned into the touch, his soft hand bringing you back to life. 

“You look so pretty like this. Were you good for Daddy, baby?” He spoke softly, hand still cradling your cheek. You nodded in response, and his eyebrow quirked up at the sentiment. If you had been more attentive, you might have noticed a dangerous glint that formed in his eye just then.

Without warning, his hand left your face only to deliver a slap to the cheek he had just been cradling, your gasp at the contact bringing a cruel smile to his face. He leaned in closer to you, asking you once more.

“Are you sure about that, baby?” He moved even closer, his mouth next to your ear as he whispered, “Good girls don’t cum without permission.”

Fuck.

The look of regret and anticipation on your face told him all he needed to know. He pulled you up, helping you stand as he walked you to the other side of his room. As he guided you carefully, he spoke again:

“I was planning to fuck you on my bed, but I don’t think you deserve it. See, only good girls are allowed in my bed.” 

He dragged you over to his floor-length mirror, pulling down the zipper of your dress that you forgot you still had on. As you hadn’t worn a bra, you were now fully naked… and Spencer was still fully clothed. You didn’t have time to complain about it, distracted by him placing his hand on your lower back to bend you over. Bracing yourself on the large mirror with your hands, you tried not to seem too needy as you reacted to his touch. Apparently the attempt was unsuccessful, because Spencer let out a dark chuckle, watching your face contort in the reflection.

You watched as he slowly undressed, making you wait as long as he could. As you took in the sight of him, your gaze trailed down his torso, your eyes widening at the sight of him. Your shock at his impressive size must have been apparent on your face, because when your eyes met his again you saw a small smirk on his face. Your cheeks reddened, and you looked down to avoid his gaze. Apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because you soon felt him grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up to see yourself in the mirror. He kept his hand there, watching your eyes roll back as he teased your entrance with his head, teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just fuck me already!” You cried.

From the look on his face, that was the wrong thing to say. You knew you were in for it already, but you were now mentally preparing to be unable to walk the next day. Despite his clear disdain for your words and the tone you’d spoken them in, he did as you asked. With no warning, he slammed into you, giving you no time to recover before setting a brutal pace that turned your moans to a silent scream. His hand in your hair jerked you up again, forcing you to watch as he destroyed you. You were overwhelmed at the sight: your mascara had run down your cheeks, your lips were puffy from the force with which he’d kissed you, and your body was nearly limp in his hands, trembling and fully pliant. 

The look on his face was what really did you in, though. Spencer’s expression told you everything you had wanted to know at the beginning of the night, everything he had been holding back. It told you he owned you, that you were his to ruin, that nobody else would ever compare. It told you that as much as he relished in the power of your obedience, he had needed the release of teaching you a lesson after whatever had happened at work, and enjoyed your brattiness just as much as you did.

You felt yourself getting closer and, remembering your mistake before, started to beg. His look of satisfaction was possibly more erotic than the act itself, and he decided to reward your good behavior. It was that face that pushed you over the edge, sending you into your most powerful orgasm yet, tightening around him as you chanted pleas that were far from coherent, but came down somewhere between “daddy” and “please”. 

Still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm, you felt his pace stutter and watched his reflection as he finally came undone, a look of bliss coming over his face. The feeling of him filling you up was almost enough to bring you to the edge again, but luckily he pulled out before you had to test the theory your body couldn’t handle another orgasm. 

You were dazed and exhausted when Spencer returned with a washcloth, guiding you to his bed and laying you down on it. Still deep in subspace, you mumbled about how “only good girls were allowed on the bed,” and he chuckled, saying you had more than made up for your bad behavior. You whimpered as he cleaned you up, the overstimulation too much for you. He pressed kisses to your thighs at the sound, and eventually fell next to you on the bed. As you curled into his chest, he whispered words of praise, while you mumbled back assurances he hadn’t hurt you and that you had enjoyed the scene. You said something about leaving, but he talked you into staying the night-- not that you were all that difficult to convince, given your current lingering subspace and overall exhaustion. 

While you drifted off to sleep, you listened to Spencer’s heartbeat, allowing the rhythm to soothe you as the two of you became so close you began to breathe as one. You’ve both lived long enough to know what you’d found tonight was rare, so you and Spencer allowed yourselves to find comfort in each other, if only for a night.