#i fucked up my schedule yesterday and im only halfway through Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[etchedstars]

im the funniest person alive (about to name a fic with a ridiculous amount of candlelight metaphors a lyric from a song titled warm glow)

[too-gay-for-marvel]

routine

a/n: look i know im crankin these suckers out, i swear i have a life. ive just got a lot of thots and need to get them out asap or ill forget and then cry. so here, have some married mob boss Natasha and Carol because i love them

Word Count: 2151

Warnings: implied sexual content

Pairing: CarolNat x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4)

Your routine was a simple one when you were single. An early morning where you get up at 6, make your bed, and start the coffee before taking a cold shower.  You’re out by the time the machine beeps and it only takes minutes to put on your pre-picked outfit. One cup of coffee (lots of cream, no sugar) while you read the paper. Your phone tells you it’s time to leave and you head to work.

The day is always filled with work work work and it keeps you busy. You can force yourself to focus, working through lunch and staying at the warehouse until it’s dark. You buy an apple and two oranges from the bodega on your way home.

Back home you start another pot of coffee before eating your apple at the counter. You cook a small meal, usually a frozen dinner but sometimes you cook real food, and eat it with your coffee. Sometimes it’s a disgusting combination, sometimes it’s not too bad, but it’s never good. But it’s routine and that’s what matters.

You hand wash the few dishes you have before changing and heading down to the apartment gym for a run. Sometimes you’ll talk with the doorman, sometimes you won’t. Either way, you go back to your apartment and take a hot shower before putting on some pajamas. You lay on the couch and put the news on your laptop while something else plays on the TV. You’ll eat the oranges while you relax and save the peels to boil on the weekends. A lot of times you fall asleep on the couch, always around 2am. You rinse and repeat with little to no variation.

But when you got involved with Natasha and Carol, routine was nothing but a word.

You understood, you really did. They were married, you accidentally wormed your way in, you all had different days. They went and commanded a mob, you were a carpenter. There was no telling what all they dealt with on a daily basis, and you just went to work and back home every day.

They could have at least tried to fit your schedule.

Now it was almost impossible to enjoy the walk to and from work because you were acutely aware of the people Carol and Nat would have follow you. “To keep you safe,” they had said. You didn’t care, it was an interruption.

When they would stop by, you couldn’t just heat up your one meal and be done with it. You had to make enough for three people, with three plates and three cups and three sets of silverware. And then you couldn’t even wash them right away because they were only coming by for a fuck. Which was more than fine with you.

But it messed up your routine.

And now they had the nerve to sleep over? They never stayed the night! Sure, sometimes they would stay until extremely early in the morning, but they never slept over. You would fuck, they would leave, and you’d rush to get back into your routine.

You couldn’t even get out of Carol’s arms to take a shower.

Maybe you liked the feeling. It had been a while since you had woken up in someone’s arms, and it was nice. It felt safe. Nat’s arm was slung around Carol’s waist and resting on your hip, and it was comforting. Any other person would have loved to wake up the way you did.

But you had a routine.

It was almost impossible to slip out of Carol’s grasp; she was a lot stronger than you had thought. She could pick you up and carry you around, but she was asleep! She shouldn’t be able to do this while she was sleeping! You were already late for your morning shower and it took almost 15 minutes to worm your way out of Carol’s grasp.

You froze on your feet when you got out of bed because you heard Carol sigh. If you had woken her up then you knew you wouldn’t be getting to shower. Horn dog, you complained to yourself. But she just shifted and rolled over to pull Nat closer before staying still again.

If only they could see you now, you thought to yourself. The fiercest couple in the mob game. Cuddling in bed.

Maybe them sleeping over wasn’t so bad. How else would you get to see them like this? Vulnerable, peaceful, almost even innocent. They weren’t mob boss legends, they were just people. People that were in your bed.

Dammit.

Now you couldn’t make your bed before a shower. Damn them. Never mind, having them sleep over was hell.

Well, at least you could still start your coffee. You spared one more look at the women in your bed and smiled to yourself before grabbing a shirt from the floor. It wasn’t clean and it wasn’t yours, and you hated knowing you were wearing an unclean shirt. But you liked that it was one of theirs. Maybe that was enough.

It wasn’t, but maybe it could be.

You snuck into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. It was bigger than usual and you knew it would change your grocery plans. Yet another part of your routine that they were changing. Maybe that could be okay, too.

You were halfway across the living room when someone knocked on your door. Looking at the clock in your kitchen said it was 6:47 (far too late for your shower). Who would come by that early? What else was going to ruin your routine??

With a sigh you walked to the door. If your routine was ruined you might as well ruin it properly. Your hair was pulled into a lazy ponytail, you were only in a dirty shirt, you couldn’t make your bed, and you were already… 36 minutes behind schedule. Might as well have a little small talk, right? So you opened the door-

“-Mornin’ sunshine-”

-And immediately shut it again, holding the handle in case they tried to open the door.

Why were they here?

“Y/N?”

No no no they couldn’t see your apartment like this! The coffee wasn’t finished, you didn’t have pants on, you hadn’t washed your hair. There were still dishes in the sink, a few blueprints on the table, two women in your bed-

-two women in your bed. Two married women in your bed.

Oh no.

“You alright, kiddo?”

“Just fine!” You called out. You didn’t let go of the handle until you locked the door, and then you ran to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

It was a bit ridiculous to wash the dishes first when there were so many other problems to deal with, but it was the most obvious. You could probably make an excuse for not wearing pants and the blueprints. But the dishes? That was way too out of hand.

You didn’t even dry them before shoving them into your cabinet and making your way to the bedroom where Carol and Nat were sitting up and rubbing their eyes. The sheet was down to their bare waists and you stared for just a moment too long.

“You okay?” Carol asked when she cracked one eye open just enough to see you starting to pick up the clothes on the floor.

Three more knocks on your front door.

“One second!” You shouted before rushing through your room again. You didn’t see Carol and Nat flinch from the loud noise.

“What’s going on?” Nat asked, and they both held their hands up as you tossed some clothes at them.

“You need to leave,” you said as quickly as you could manage.

“Kicking us out already?” Carol teased.

“Yes,” you huffed out with a single nod.

“What’s wrong?” Nat asked. She stood and pulled on some jeans before walking over to put a hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off.

More knocks.

“I said one second!” You shouted again and turned back to Nat. “Please leave.”

“We can chill in here,” Carol said as she finished tugging a shirt on. It was yours and it was just a little too small on her. She didn’t seem to care.

“I’m not out yet,” you shot back before shoving a shirt into Nat’s arms.

“Just lock the-”

“-Unless you want to meet my parents, I suggest you leave.”

That shut them up. Quickly.

Five knocks.

“I’m coming!” You shouted before looking at the shell-shocked faces of Carol and Nat. “Fire escape goes all the way down,” you said before shutting your bedroom door and running to open the front door.

They didn’t look happy.

“May we come in now?” Your mom asked. She looked more pissed than your dad, who looked amused at your ragged state.

“Please,” you said with a sheepish smile as you stepped aside and let them in.

“Nice shirt,” your dad whispered as he passed you. Damn him.

“Coffee?” You asked. You didn’t wait for them to answer before making your way to the kitchen and getting down two more mugs.

“You’ve already got three on the counter,” your mom pointed out, and your eyes shot to where she was pointing.

She was right. You had three mugs on the counter right by the coffee pot. And they were dirty. Because you had made Carol and Nat coffee yesterday when they had come over. And you hadn’t cleaned because they had ruined your routine. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t-

“-You use all these yesterday?” Your dad asked, and you could feel your heart jump into your throat. You missed the small smile on his face.

“Long day,” you said nonchalantly as you tried to physically wave off the ideas he probably had.

“That why you haven’t showered yet?” Your dad pointed out, again, and you finally glared at him. He needed to just keep his mouth shut or your mom would get suspicious.

“Long night,” you explained even though you knew he didn’t buy it.

“Must have been,” your mom mused as she poured herself a cup of coffee because you had taken too long. “It cut into your routine.”

Why did they have to know you so well? Why couldn’t they just be distant and not care?

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask as you hand a mug to your dad.

“We can’t just come see our daughter?” Your dad asks from behind the mug.

“Not at 7am,” you tease, and he shoots you a wink.

“Your grandparents want the whole family to spend the summer together,” your mom says, her voice much softer than usual. You know what that means.

“And you’re bringing it up now?” You ask. It’s the middle of January; summer wasn’t even on your mind.

“So you can plan your routine,” your mom answers with a gentle smile. Maybe her respecting your schedule wasn’t quite as awful as you thought.

“We want you to have time to set things up in case-”

-your dad is cut off by a thud coming from your room, and all of your heads snap toward the sound.

“What was that?” Your dad asks as he immediately moves into his protective mode.

You don’t have time to answer before your dad makes his way to your bedroom. He doesn’t even ask for permission to enter because you usually never shut your door. You’ve never cared before, so he doesn’t ask now.

But what if Carol and Nat aren’t gone?

Blood is rushing deafeningly in your ears as your parents open the door to your room and look inside. You expect to hear gasps and immediate yelling, maybe some accusations. You’ve even got an escape plan ready and an alibi set up.

But the room is empty. There’s no clothes on the floor, your hamper is out of sight, and the bed is made. There’s no one in your room. The only thing that’s out of place is the open window.

“I thought I taught you to keep these closed,” your dad mused as he walked over and shut the window.

“Must have forgotten,” you mumbled.

“Long night,” your dad repeats your explanation, but he sounds completely unconvinced.

“Right,” you whisper before running your fingers through your hair and pulling your arms in tight.

“We should let you get ready,” your mom says after an extremely awkward amount of silence. You shoot her a relieved smile and nod.

“I’ll call you,” you say.

They each give you a kiss on the head as they walk by and say their goodbye’s before leaving your apartment. As soon as the door shuts you fall to the floor and just lay there staring at the ceiling. There were too many thoughts running through your head.

None of this would have happened if no one had ruined your routine.

[belarath]

so I've finally figured out how to vent on here again without falling into a panic spiral which is lovely  :  and I’m just going to spam myself here cause I really need to let something out   :   I’m dying, I'm just straight up dying in here   :   I’m so empty, in many ways   :   I’m wrecked physically, I couldn't walk up a hill 2 weeks ago without sitting down halfway though, and I don't mean a big hill I mean the side of a lightly inclined large road   :   I barely can make it to eat anymore, sitting up is a challenge, any you can forget any kind of maintenance   :   I got better yesterday only just so I could wash my hair enough that after washing it again today its not riddled with dandruff enough to clog up my comb anymore   :   I finally shaved which I like, but i’ve only been able to enjoy that at home. I step outside and its not good for how anxious I am. I had a fake lining of protective masculinity that I relied on to convince me I’m safe. I still felt uncomfortable going places especially at night but it wasn't to bad. now though I’m double as certain every person I see will shank me. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder which panics me cause every time I do that I'm certain that makes me look afraid which makes me a better target   :   though shaving has made me feel better physically   :   I hate my body so much, but shaving makes me feel a bit better which is a relief, the constant loathing of how I look is very very draining   :   you'd think that like after alllll this god damn time it'd get a little easier to live with such a retched self body image but its just so heavy feeling still   :   I worry   :   I’ve always been a very sad person   :   and like I acknowledge that Its probably not healthy how sad I am all the time but   :   I’ve been like this my entire life   :   I’ve never felt happy for longer than like, maybe more than a month or 2 straight   :   I’m so confident in how well I can endure the deathly long expanses of numbness and hyper draining lack of energy   :  the lack of passion for anything the tastelessness of food   :   the contentment to not move the endless wishing for god damn peace and quiet   :   I have that thing where you really just don't want to exist, I just don't want to have to live in this body and be this mind, I acknowledge I don't have a fear of death because I day dream about not being alive in the sense that being alive is very very very heavy   :   not all the time but,,  so much of the time and that not needing to feel the desire to not want to feel heavy anymore is lovely   :   like I’ve lived like this for my entire memory and so just continuing to live has been my jam   :   I know that if I did die, my Mum would not cope, she’s die   :   I’ve watched her claw her way through things, I swear she doesn't know how hard she’s had it, and I cannot take any joy she's gleamed from this life she's sacrificed so much to reach by selfishly dying   :   death is out of the option until my Mum dies   :   and its likely that death will be out of the option until my close friends either drift away or die as, well, they’ve gone though too much, one specifically I worry about, and I think that dying would be rude to say the least   :   and again its just very selfish   :   one of the virtues of having been programmed to treat myself as lesser is that this instinct has prevent my death which is cool   :   it does make for some suffering though   :   but anyway i’ve drifted   :   I wasn't worried about myself and my sadness until this week   :   I think wednesday? I think I had a moment, I’m certain I had a moment where I fantasied about self harm, and the thing about this is that fantasising about it made me feel better, which really is the part I’m scared about   :   funny thing is though that I have a friend who did self harm but they used like a cutting tool and in my head I was like “ugh no thats just not the way to do it stabing is a way better idea!”   :   my friend told me about their experience and they said they knew it was dumb thing to do cause they had people they knew that did it but they still did it, I forget the reason why. but they regretted it and for some reason it made me thing that I’m way more reasonable because I learnt from them and decided that using like cork board pins seems like a way better idea XD   :   I didn't self harm because the pin I had on me I’m sure wasn't clean and I didn't have the energy or the free break to go get a clean one, and going through the rigamarole of sterilising and then trying to hide it was just,,, to much for my stamina to think possible.  : luckily again another piece of programming “gifted” to me by good old paterna saved me from this moment of self harm as I believe everything has to be done by the book! not by like a real book but the book he taught me to make for myself. what a lovely instinct! to have half my brain assigned to making rules to punish and contain my self which is completely SELF SUFFICIENT   :   I’m being sarcastic btw   :   to the core of me tip to toe I hate it with a fucking passion   :   one of the few passions that I do have XD   :   but again I drifted though   : the moment passed and I haven't wanted to self harm again since then which is good but I’m still unnerved   :   I’m so scared   :   I’ve been dying on the inside for a little bit now   :   I think i have anxiety, and i think I may have a little paranoia though I haven't googled it so I may not   :   but gosh its been put into perspective how self destructive I am   :   there was a post which listed a bunch of self destructive behaviours 28 in total, I had 21 of them and the other 7 involved sexuality which I don't have much of being mostly ace   :   I remember thinking “its a fairly good list” but it kinda highlighted somethings    :   it made me think    :   maybe dressing in wet clothes because you couldnt be bothered to keep your body clothed cleanly and then going out in cold windy weather even though you know you’re going to shiver and probably chafe a bit and then be super hungry cause your cold so you decide to eat out and berate yourself for spending or get home and eat and berate yourself for not making something better and getting fatter or not eating just cause who cares.   MAYBE THATS SELF DESTRUCTIVE   :   or maybe staying at public dnd games which a bunch of people who unnerve you and sap you of energy for sometimes chunks of 3 to 5 hours because you “don't want to offend people” or “don't want to mess up anyones schedule” while also not eating or drinking enough MaYbE ThAtS SeLfDeStRuCtIvE Too   :   maybe its knowing you will get horrific migraines or want to throw up from lack of sleep and maybe that will spike your anxiety about being fired from your work because you can't shake the feeling everyone wants to fire you but you don't mention anything because you'd feel bad about leaving or something and because some of these people you actually like you'll degrade yourself more because they are worth it and you’re not MAYBE THATS FUCKING SELF DESTRUCTIVE   :   I WANT TO SCREAM BUT I DONT   :   I NEVER FUCKING HAVE AND IM DYING INSIDE   :   god I get so mad and I scream so loud in my head my head hurts   :   I’m so broken in so many intricate ways and I know I could feel so much better but, theres so much in the way! and most of its me thats in the way! I’m so close to not even just like help Im so close to comfort! I just want be held by people I like, I’m sure I could ask for like more hugs or to cuddle or to hold hands or for people to play with my hair or for just in general human contact of any kind but, theres so much social anxiety to even begin to ask something like that and that even if I were to get consent how the hell could i learn to initiate!? I”M SO FUCKING SCARED to like ask for physical contact from yet another trauma as a kid. If it weren't bad enough that I’m hyper petrified about getting consent for any kind of physical contact but I also believe that if i were to touch people it would be automatically labeled as predatory because I’m male. I’m starting to think maybe sexual trauma as a kid has had a bigger effect on my psyche than I think? which in all honesty is just, its just exhausting to hold in my head that idea.