#it has been 3 hours and my headphones are digging my glasses into my ears

[tannithvibes]

hello yes i made a playlist for my terrible child, enjoy

[softbiker]

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: 18+ only - smut (fingering), some cursing

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: I can’t believe I wrote 3.6k words of what basically amounts to Netflix and fingering, but this is what Bucky Barnes does to people (you’re welcome Kris). Anyways, here is my first-ever smut - in which Bucky’s girl has a bad day at work and he does his best to make the night a good one. Bonus points if you can guess which show they’re watching ;) As always, feedback is appreciated! Since I’ve never written smut, please tell me if it’s bad lol. Thanks for reading!

A fuzzy vibration in his pocket alerts him to a text. 

Kill me. 

Unable to hold back a snort, he bites his lip and swipes at the screen. His thumbs flutter over the keyboard. 

No can do, babydoll. Not an assassin anymore, remember?

Merely a few seconds pass, little dots floating in the conversation bubble, before her reply buzzes back.

I’m sure you’ve retained some of your skills…or maybe I should ask Natasha?

Please, I taught Nat everything she knows. And I’d still take her out before I’d let her kill you - your butt is too cute. 

So is yours, Handsome ;)

The muscles in his cheeks hurt from the silly grin stretching up the corners of his mouth, but he can’t help himself with her, it’s just too easy. Too fun. 

Well, if you’re NOT going to put me out of my misery…then you at least owe me a good night tonight. 

Done and done. The whole team knows - and teases him frequently - that he spoils her, worships her, bends over backwards at her every request. It’s not his fault; she wrapped him around her finger the day they met, and it’s such a sweet place to be, he’s never bothered untangling himself. And she always gives as good as she gets, every time. 

What did you have in mind, sweetheart?

Pizza and Netflix. Preferably with your hand down my pants. 

Oh and there it is - that lovely little tingle down his spine, warmth in his belly, ever-present between them. His funny girl, always teasing. Teeth tug at his bottom lip as he deliberates over his response, thumbs poised over the screen.

It’s a date. 

He tacks on that little emoji with the winking kiss face and hits send. Glances at his watch - a little past 3 in the afternoon; she’ll be off work at 5, probably straight out the door if she’s having such a bad day, but if the traffic is bad or she gets stuck at her desk, it’ll probably be closer to 6 when she gets home. 

Slipping his phone in his back pocket, he looks around at the apartment, a quick survey of the last 5 days’ damage - a few dishes in the sink and on the stove, dirty socks peeled off in the hallway, a basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded. He nods to himself, prioritizes his task list, and tackles the kitchen first. After loading the dishwasher, he goes back to the bedroom, digging in the side pocket of his backpack for his headphones; he slips them in and turns on the next episode of that conspiracy theory podcast he’s become obsessed with (not that he’ll admit it, but she thinks it’s hysterical) and gets back to work, giving their home as deep a clean as he can in the couple of hours he has. On an afterthought, he lights a couple of scented candles - her favorites, the ones that smell like roasting marshmallows - throughout the place, letting the rooms fill with a warm scent. 

A few minutes past 5, he stands in the living room, hands on his hips, and surveys his work, feeling pretty pleased with himself. Their home looks and smells deliciously clean and inviting, a warm embrace for her to fall into when she walks in the door. He glances at his watch and decides he should go ahead and order the pizza, and as he swipes at the app on his phone, he double checks the champagne chilling in the fridge. Check and check. 

Perfect. He smiles to himself, the smirk turning a bit wicked as he walks down the hall to light candles in the bedroom. 

A perfect night for his perfect girl. 

 **********                                                  

Her feet drag as she climbs the stairs up to their apartment, cursing herself all the way for moving into a building with no elevator. As if she weren’t tired enough from the absolutely hellish day she just had - even thinking about work has her massaging her temples with a groan. And she absolutely, positively, has to get new shoes for work, her feet hurt so fucking bad it’s insane-

Nope. Nope! Completely done, she stops on the second flight of stairs with a huff, removing her heels one at a time and shoving them into her work bag. Files and various loose papers wrinkle in the process, but she doesn’t care at all; so what if the little blue fleck of gum on the bottom of her pumps gets stuck on the official copy of a contract? At this point, she’s practically daring someone to say something about it. Biting someone else’s head off for a change would be just delightful. 

She continues up that flight of stairs and the next, barefoot, her bag heavy and awkward on her right shoulder with the addition of her shoes, toes pressing into the worn and dated green carpet covering the steps. In her head, she’s counting them, counting down - 10 steps to Bucky, 9 steps, 8 steps, 7, 6…

When she unlocks the door and pushes it open, he’s waiting there, sweet smile curling up his soft lips. Of course, he must have heard her coming up the stairs - and she sags in relief, practically falling into his arms without even closing the door. He chuckles, tugging her closer while shuffling their positions in the hallway so that he - ever responsible and paranoid - can close and deadbolt their door. 

“Hi,” she mumbles into his chest. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, lips against her temple. “Rough day?” 

She groans, shaking her head with her face still pressed against him. 

“You’ve got no idea, Buck, it was just the worst-”

“Shh, shh,” he hushes her, rubbing her back with firm strokes. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can just relax, honey. I’m here.”

A heavy sigh puffs against his shirt, the heat of her breath felt through the fabric, and her shoulders drop a little further, the tension slowly melting as he softly sways her from side to side. They stand like that for a while, just breathing each other in, letting go of the day, coming home to each other. Though she’s never said it aloud, she lives for moments like this, when there’s nothing that matters outside the circle of his arms. Nothing else at all. 

The insistent growl of her stomach interrupts them - loud and gurgling, and he chuckles in spite of himself. He pulls back a bit from their embrace, looking down with a fond smirk tilting up his mouth. 

“Hungry?”

“Starving, Buck,” she pouts, a little dramatic, a playful whine coloring her tone. “Did you make dinner?” 

“Even better.” A light press of his lips to the tip of her nose, his voice continuing in a whisper. “I ordered out.”

A soft gasp. 

“Gusano’s?” Her eyes are sparkling and he wonders if she gets as excited for him as she does for pizza. 

“Mhm. Got all the toppings you like, too.” 

Touched, and sensitive from such a long day, her smile is so big it makes her tired eyes tear up just a bit. Sometimes, it just hits her - how lucky she is, how one-in-a-million her sweet super-soldier boyfriend manages to be every single day. It swells her heart full to bursting every time.

He doesn’t say anything else, just kisses her forehead and turns, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders and steering her to the bedroom. 

“C’mon, babydoll - you go change,” he urges gently, stroking her arm. “Get in your comfy clothes, take your makeup off, all that jazz - I’ll grab the pizza and then we’ll see what we wanna watch, yeah?”

Her answering sigh is dreamy as she drops her head back to his shoulder. 

“Where have you been all my life, Bucky Barnes?” 

“Mm. Mostly in cryogenic storage,” he whispers, eyebrows wiggling as he leans in for a kiss. With a roll of her eyes she dodges his lips, letting them land on the side of her head as she smacks his chest and walks off to the bedroom. Chuckling, he lands a playful swat on her ass before skipping to the kitchen. 

What a man, she thinks, shaking her head as she digs through her dresser for a pair of soft college sweatpants. One-in-a-million.

  **********                                                   

Pizza box on the edge of the bed, bottle of champagne on the left nightstand. She’s settled between his legs, feeling full and pleasantly soft from the bubbly drink in her hand. 

“We’re gonna keep watching this, right?” she hums as the credits roll on the first episode, button in the bottom corner counting down until the next one plays. 

“Sure - as long as you don’t spend the whole night ogling that guy’s ass,” he huffs, pinching her hip. 

“Hey! It’s not my fault he’s got a great ass - but I never said it was better than yours,” she offers, sweet and apologetic, reaching up to pat his cheek. Even with her head only half turned, she can see the pouty scowl on his face, her hardened assassin looking more like a frustrated two-year-old. Adorable. What a man. 

“Whatever,” he grumbles, shifting a little on the bed and tightening his arms around her, as though that might keep his girl in his lap rather than jumping through the screen and into the arms of the wig-wearing hunk whose strapping biceps currently have her attention. 

The second episode plays, she relaxes a little further, finishing her second glass of bubbly. When he murmurs in her ear, she lets him take the glass and set it on the nightstand, out of the way. He shifts forward and grabs the pizza box, too, moving it to the other nightstand - both of them have eaten their fill and all that’s left in the box is a scrap of crust, nibbled all the way up till there’s nothing left but seasoned bread. 

There’s a little shifting, a little wiggling, as he settles them both back against the headboard. In true “Princess and the Pea” fashion, Bucky’s got no less than three pillows fluffed behind his back, cushioning him against the hard wooden headboard. When he’s finished shuffling around, he strokes her sides for a moment, pulling her back flush against him and wraps his arms around her waist, sighing in contentment. 

“Comfortable?” she giggles. His only reply is a low hum and a squeeze of his arms. 

They go back to watching episode two, trying to follow the separate timelines and magical rules that have yet to be explained in the story world. She’s got her eyebrows drawn together, puzzling out where the hunchbacked mage might fit in to all of this; while the women on screen test their magic powers, she feels warm lips travel to her neck. 

At first, she tries to ignore him, intent on watching the show; but the warm, wet kisses trailing up and down the side of her neck have her tilting her head, silently asking for more…

“Watch your show, baby,” he whispers, husky voice sending a delicate shiver down her spine. The tip of his tongue traces over the shell of her ear. “Don’t want you to miss your man.” 

She intends to make a derisive snort, but it comes out as more of a hiccuped gasp when one of his hands slips just under the hem of her t-shirt, fingers spider-walking up the skin of her stomach. Her mouth is dry when she tries to swallow and bring her hazy eyes back to the TV. 

It works for a few moments, maybe minutes, as he softly strokes the warm skin of her belly, his other hand tracing the waistband of her sweats. His mouth never leaves her neck and shoulders, switching from one side to the other, gently letting his teeth scrape over her sweet spot and her earlobe. All tender, unhurried caresses, and she sinks further into him, into the warmth of them both in their room, their world. 

She chokes on her gasp when his hand slides up to cup her breast. 

“You still watching, honey?” he hums, a smile pressed against her jaw. 

“Uh-huh,” she manages when his finger circles her nipple. 

“Good.” He nuzzles her cheek a little bit, stubble scratching along her smooth skin as his hand continues to massage her breast - his fingers still soft, barely squeezing, just enough to tease. 

His other hand finally wiggles past her waistband - but stops at the seam of her underwear, just a few inches in. She’s watching, she is, she is; her eyes are on the screen, on the very handsome monster hunter with a jaw that could cut glass, her hand gripping Bucky’s thigh. She’s absolutely paying attention to the show, and not at all frustrated with the light strokes of his fingers across her hips and mound, still outside of her panties. Fingers stretch a little further, so he’s massaging her inner thigh in time with the squeezes to her breast. It’s getting a little hot in here - maybe she shouldn’t have worn such thick sweats and fuzzy socks…

This time, she can’t help herself as she digs her nails in his thigh, his index finger lightly tracing her folds over her underwear. It almost tickles. She almost whines. Bites her lip instead to hold it back, her breath hitching in her chest. 

“Bucky,” she huffs. 

“Hm?” He licks her neck. 

“Are you going to do something?” It comes out weaker than she meant it to, more desperate than demanding. 

“I thought you wanted to watch your show?” he suggests, feigning innocence. “Don’t you wanna watch Netflix with my hand down your pants? You can have both, honey.” 

Her thighs twitch when his fingers press a little firmer, just an ounce more pressure - still barely anything, still not enough. She does whine this time, trying to wiggle her hips closer to his hand. 

“Go on, admire his ass some more, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “I know you think it’s cute.” 

The hand in her shirt switches to the other breast and tweaks her nipple, just on the pleasant side of painful. She licks her lips, blinking to regain focus on the screen, feeling way too hot. Bucky seems unbothered, though, continuing his ministrations and ignoring the TV altogether. 

Her teeth sink into her lower lip when his hand slides around to grab a handful of her ass, gripping tight then playfully popping the seam of her panties with his finger. 

“You’ve got a pretty cute ass, too,” he teases, his hand gliding back to its place between her thighs. 

She huffs again, unable to stop herself from arching into the hand that’s attentively playing with her breasts. Alright then. Two can play at this game - she releases her death grip from one of his thighs and slides her hand back, just behind her, letting her nails drag over the prominent bulge in his sweats. 

He hisses through his teeth, releasing her breast to grab her wrist. His other hand slips out of her pants to snatch her hand that remains clasped to his thigh

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he nips at her shoulder. With a firm grip, he moves her hands up behind his neck, letting her fingers tangle in the sweaty strands at his nape. “You keep those right here and enjoy your show, alright? I ain’t done with you yet.”

Satisfied that she would stay put, he lets his hands glide back down - over the length of her arms and down her sides, before gripping the hem of her shirt and hiking it up above her breasts, both hands immediately giving them a firm squeeze. Lower lip trapped between her teeth, she barely holds back the low moan in her throat and fights to refocus her eyes on the screen again, a herculean task with his fingers plucking at her nipples like that. 

The heat between her legs continues to build, despite both his hands occupied with her chest, and she can’t help but lift her hips a little, a blind, desperate search for friction, attention, anything. A particularly hard tweak of her nipples had her whining loud, a jolt of electricity going straight between her thighs. She tries to rub her thighs together to get some relief, but Bucky’s too quick - he hooks his own feet on the inside of her ankles and keeps both their legs spread open wide. 

She moans his name, heady and desperate, arching into his hands. 

“S’alright, I gotcha,” he hushes her, his lips still fastened to her neck. Always wants to take care of his girl. He’ll always give her what she wants…eventually.

Achingly slow, he drags a hand down from her breasts, tracing over her stomach and into her sweats again. He snaps the waistband of her underwear again - once, twice, what an asshole - before sliding down further to rub her core through her panties. Her breath hitches at the feel, the friction, her thigh muscles tightening as he uses his knuckles to firmly stroke her up and down. Wetness pools in her underwear, more and more as he rubs little circles around her clit with his thumb. 

“Can feel you gettin’ so wet, honey,” he rasps, breath hot on her ear. “This all for me? Huh?”

All she can give is a nod and an “uh huh” as his fingers press her clit and pinch her nipple at the same time. A tiny whine escapes her lips, sweat breaking out along her back where they’re pressed together, his erection impossible to ignore as she wiggles against him. 

Panties soaked now, ruined, when he finally, finally slips inside, cupping her pussy with his warm hand. With his thumb and pinky, he parts her swollen folds and traces his index and middle fingers up her slit.

“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked, sweetheart,” he moans, his fingers running through her folds, circling her entrance before bringing the wetness back up to rub her clit. His fingers spread her a little further, tugging back the hood, and he draws firm circles around her bud, just the way he knows she likes. 

“Oh, oh fuck, Bucky-” she pants and whines, hips rolling into his hand, his other fingers still working over her breasts. Her head feels light, almost dizzy, and a tight feeling grips her low in her belly, her toes starting to curl and twitch. Fingers yank hard at his silky soft hair, the strands wrapped in her fists. “Bucky, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg me, honey - don’t gotta beg for anything,” he coos against her sweaty cheek. With his hand now soaked, he slips two fingers inside, curling them against her upper wall into that spot that makes her-

“Oh my god, oh god, right there-”

“I know, baby, I know.”

His hands working her over like an instrument, there’s no more pretense of even glancing at the TV screen - her eyes flutter as he rhythmically strokes her higher, gushing wet sounds as he drives his fingers in and out, dragging the heel of his palm against her clit. All the while, his other hand plucks and circles her nipples, palms her breasts, his tongue and teeth attached to the sensitive little place on her neck. Her mouth hangs open, gasps and moans that sound vaguely like his name, fingernails raking down his scalp and the back of his neck.

“Come on, honey, come for me - come for me.” He pulls his fingers from her and goes back to circling her clit at a frenetic pace.

It’s enough - the coil in her belly snaps and she arches back with a cry, her legs shaking and hips rocking up against his fingers, head falling back against his shoulder. His fingers don’t stop as he works her through it, holding on to her high, his lips pressed against her temple as he murmurs sweet words into her skin. 

“Good girl, oh good girl - there’s my sweet girl, huh?” He presses little kisses down her temple to her cheekbone, following the path of the sweet-tasting sweat beading on her forehead. 

He lets his fingers slow against her, and finally removes them when she starts to twitch away from him, sensitive and sated. Letting his hand fall from her breasts to her stomach, he rubs softly over her skin, feeling her ribs expand under his palm as she catches her breath. His other fingers go straight to his mouth, sucking obscenely, not letting a drop of her wetness go to waste. She peels an eye open at his appreciative groan, the corner of her mouth tilting up in a tired smile. 

“You perv,” she laughs, her voice low, content. She pats his cheek with one hand at the indignant look on his face, but he merely shrugs and dips his finger back down for a second helping, licking off his fingers with a loud smack. 

“Can’t help it. You’re too damn sweet,” he grins, smug and lusty, loving the way she’s still a bit breathless and soft in his arms. 

She rolls her eyes and catches a glimpse of the TV screen, where the credits are rolling on their show. 

“Whoops…I think I barely caught any of that,” she giggles, slapping his leg. “Which would be your fault, by the way.” 

“Eh, we can just rewatch it if you want to-”

“Later,” she interrupts, sitting forward and turning around on the bed. Her limbs still feel shaky from her orgasm, but she plants her palms on his chest and straddles his lap, landing firmly on his still straining erection. Bucky moans low and grips her hips, his eyes blown dark with need. She leans in close, her lips brushing lightly over his.

“I think it’s your turn,” she whispers, tongue tracing his lower lip. He dives in with a growl, devouring her mouth.

Netflix entirely forgotten. 

[lyraeon]

Hi! Sorry for intruding, and you definitely don't have to answer if this too personnal or invasive, but I've been wondering if my depression might be a bipolar one for a while now, only I don't always see myself in the way people talk about mania/hypomania, only sometimes I do? And the way you described mania being /straightforwardly frustrating/ sort of spoke to me, so I was wondering if you could explain what you meant by that? (or direct me to posts where you have?) Huge thanks!

Hello friend!

I’m sure I have other posts about it somewhere, but short of digging through my whole relevant tag, I wouldn’t know where to look for them. But I don’t mind explaining overall.

First of all, if your depression seems to come and go, but not necessarily be replaced by hypomania or mania, it may be something else. Seasonal Affective Disorder is the most common alternative, but Cyclothymia is also a thing, and should especially be looked up if your depression also never hits a bottomless pit level. Don’t fall into the trap of thinking “well, it’s not THAT bad, so I guess I’m ONLY cyclothymic and I shouldn’t worry about it” or whatever though!! That’s just the depression talking and trying to keep you down. Ignore it.

I don’t know if I get manic or hypomanic, doctors have consistently disagreed about it. But, I know I have two main modes of mania, though they can bleed into each other.

There winds up being talk about hallucinations, self-harm, and graphic nightmares in this, so if that’s gonna bug anyone reading this, J on past it

Hyperactive mania:

What is sleep? This is not me procrastinating sleep or being distracted by other things, this is me flat out not needing more than 3-4 hours of sleep a night and having trouble getting to sleep to begin with, not in an insomnia “I’m so tired but can’t settle down” way but in a “I don’t feel tired unless I drink or take sleeping pills or otherwise really wear myself out” way.

Zero focus - I have little to no attention span most of the time to begin with (I suspect I have ADHD but most doctors will be reluctant to diagnose that in addition to bipolar, since mania has a lot of overlap). This typically gets worse during mania; I will repeatedly get up out of my chair to walk laps around my house, often gesturing wildly and definitely talking out loud to myself if no one’s home. I’ll sometimes try to play music to get the energy out to that, but rarely get through a single verse before skipping to the next.

Hyperfocus - and when I do manage to focus on something, (which has to either be something I’m REALLY ENJOYING or something social) I will get dragged into it for 14 hours and only snap out of it if I need a bathroom break or something. The Sims is a common one, not just for me but for a lot of people from what I hear. I always know something was a hyperfocus and not a thing I really wanted to do in general because after 3 days - 2 weeks of the thing I won’t touch it again for months or years. My last manic fit involved playing a sim city phone game for 6-7 hours a day and binge watching multiple people’s entire hermitcraft 4 season. The one before that had me playing rollercoaster tycoon constantly.

sex drive - suddenly characters and celebrities I had not previously regarded as hot are hot. Suddenly I have 15 AO3 tabs open. I feel like people who know me well can notice my mania just by how often and what gets reblogged to my NSFW blog.

poor decision making - I’m far more likely to buy ice cream or alcohol or other things I don’t need to be spending my money on. I’m far more likely to give in to the whole not sleeping thing, or to take sleeping meds despite cutting it way too close to when I have to be up the next day. I lose my verbal filter. I still don’t know if the fact I don’t do anything life-ruiningly stupid is evidence I’m only hypomanic, not manic, or just my anxiety keeping me in check.

Intense emotions - I cried at a University of Phoenix ad yesterday y’all. I also in general am not one to cheer or yell at something happening on TV/in a video, but get more invested when manic and react on a level closer to when I’m actively playing a game or something.

But there’s also the frustrating side (not that the above isn’t often frustrating, just that the above are more associated with positive emotions or at least not a pervasive Stressed Out feeling)

Easily frustrated - I am not one to get mad, normally. I actually get criticized for just letting things slide that obviously upset me/”you keep saying it’s okay right after saying it’s not okay”. I don’t know how to handle getting mad due to gaslighting issues growing up that I won’t get into right now so when I do start getting mad, it tends to build up until I find myself tense and literally stomping mad and sitting in the car screaming in frustration (because if I scream in the house someone might hear me). I also snap at people far, far more often when manic, losing any patience I would typically have and sometimes going for passive aggressive gouges if what they’re annoying me with has built up over a couple days as opposed to instantly. For example, yelling at people who are in my raid group.

nightmares - dear god the nightmares. I will do things in them that I find barely or completely unquestionable in them, then wake up freaked the fuck out because I just - well, we’ll go with today’s example, which is that I fuckin shot my dog in my dream, and for no apparent reason! Death is a pervasive thing in these, including me getting jolted awake by my own death in them, but unstoppable torrents of water are also common as is things just not making any sense - an object I’m holding turning into something else the moment I try to give it to someone else is also something that happens a lot

tense - dear god do my shoulders and back hurt, and not my normal everyday chronic arthritis pain, because that’s in the joints. This is every muscle pulled as tight as it will go and locked, and often carries a sensation of “the only way to fix this is to literally claw them off the bones”. Upper back is the most common but my forearms come next (especially near my elbows) and every major muscle can feel that way if I’m far enough gone. This used to lead to self-harm in the form of me scraping at those areas trying to make the sensation stop (and has lead to weird masochism stuff), but it’s something I consciously avoid now. I’ll usually try to rub at them or stretch to relieve the tightness, but often sleeping it off is my only real recourse.

really, really, REALLY unable to focus - I can’t get through two minutes of a video without pausing it. I skip every song 4 seconds in and instead of just feeling like they don’t fit quite right, each song feels like it’s personally offending me by not being the right one and I eventually give up and take off my headphones in a huff. I’ll forget I was loading the dishwasher halfway through. I’ll keep doing one more little task and one more little task for hours to procrastinate simple things like eating or walking the dog. I always in general have trouble finishing my sentences sometimes, because I’ll lose words or I’ll wind up reading/hearing something mid-sentence, but it becomes every third sentence.

Itchy - everything feels wrong. My hair has to be pinned up as thoroughly as possible so it can’t touch my skin, my glasses have to be perfectly clean because the smudges will piss me off, my clothes have to be just right so they don’t touch my skin in ways that will make me jump/itch like if my hair touches me, any rough edge of my nails or cuticles has to immediately be chewed off, if there’s a weird hair or a zit or a scab anywhere on me I will be picking at it instantly, whatever I’m sitting or laying on is too lumpy, etc. My scalp itches regardless of when I last washed my hair, but washing my hair sounds dreadful because the sensation of wet hair weighing me down is even worse (vs it normally being a soothing sensation to me). My ears itch!! it’s maddening and distracting.

noise and light sensetivity - everything is too bright and too loud! I’ll have as many lights off as possible (sitting in the dark, showering in the dark, screens all as dim as they will go; I’ll often close my eyes or blindfold myself if I really need to concentrate on something I’m typing or listening to). I try to get white noise because background sounds like the dog walking around will drive me batty, but white noise will give the same “wrong one” sensation as music, and if I notice ANY repetition in the white noise (obvious bird loops for example) unless I have deliberately chosen a repetitive melody because it feels right, I will snap and have to turn it off and probably just cover my ears for a while. 

The sensation that shit would suck less if I was drunk right now, because that would either “at least give me something to do” or “make all of this funny instead of annoying” (but alcohol only intensifies what I’m feeling, so if I’m “good” manic it makes me super happy and if I’m frustrated manic I just get angrier)

just an overall sense that everything is wrong and there’s nothing I can do about it and unlike when I’m depressed, wherein I feel like it’s all my fault and I probably deserve to die because of it, it all just pisses me off more and makes me need to get up and wander around. in the less extreme of these moments, I end up trying to figure out lists of what needs to be done, but getting frustrated trying to think that hard. In the worse ones, things will be blown out of scale and I’ll be plagued not just by the problems in my own life but by how fucking frustrating it is not to be able to fix, oh, our broken government, or how frustrating it is that I don’t have the money to just buy us a house right this second, etc.

hallucinations - this is top floor mania for me. The only thing above it is the roof that I will sometimes lay on at 2 in the morning, limbs spread as wide as possible for minimal skin contact, laughing uncontrollably on the inside while feeling paralyzed. My hallucinations are “mild” ones - I’ve only had one or two visual flashes in my life, everything else has been sounds, and it’s rarely been even words, let alone more. it’s usually alarms and sometimes music. I’ll hear my boyfriend’s alarm going off, or the fire alarm going off, or my own alarm going off, or my family’s burglar alarm going off, etc. This is one that meds have been royally good at keeping under control and I’ve only had breakthroughs of it when I’m also sleep deprived.

-basically, mania is fUCKING FRUSTRATING AS ALL GET OUT because you have all this energy but nothing FEELS RIGHT so nothing gets DONE, 99.94% of the time.

The additional problem for me with breakthrough mania - that is, symptoms that happen despite my medication keeping me mostly “normal” -  is that it rarely brings any of the positive aspects that make being manic at least fun in the moment, if not sometimes genuinely worth it. I can get a LOT done when manic if I can take advantage of it before the bad symptoms set in, and I suspect a lot of my current writer’s block issues are because I’m not getting the same kind of hyperfocus days that I used to. But boy do I still itch sometimes, boy are my shoulders craving for me to go rub on a tree like a bear, boy is my stomach cranky because I’m so hungry but eating food sounds like a horrifying chore because what if it doesn’t taste right, etc.

I don’t really know how to explain exactly what I mean by the emotions feeling stunted, but it’s sort of like trying your hardest to find the can opener because you know it’s got to be somewhere, but it’s not anywhere you’re looking, except the can opener is your ability to be excited about this thing you wanted to do, or is your ability to be mad about something you know for a fact you’re pissed about, but you get stuck sitting there just dully frustrated instead because you can only read the label of the can, not actually experience the contents? Or maybe like opening it and finding store brand, “no sugar added” peaches instead of the really good del monte overly sweet stuff; your emotions themselves just feel lackluster compared to what you know they can be.

If a lot of this sounds familiar - if you’re like, yeah I get really annoyed easily and get sensory issues etc but I thought I didn’t get mania because I’ve never been pulled over in vegas going 110 in a 45 and all the media presents of mania is that and crazy chicks putting themselves $12,000 in debt overnight and waking up with no recollection of it - then you probably have hypomanic bipolar. If little bits sound familiar but they always are accompanied by existential dread and/or the pervasive sense you’ve gotta keep moving Or Else, it could be some sort of anxiety disorder. Parts of this list also overlap with autism, or with ADHD, or with BPD, just depending on which symptoms you have.

By my understanding, the one cornerstone of any form of mania is that you feel like you have more energy than normal; not more energy than depressed you, but an actual excess. That energy can fade fast/turn out to be just a sensation and not actual energy, but the sensation is still there, and usually fucks with your sleep.

Hopefully that helped. If it didn’t, or if it did but there’s something else you want to know, feel free to shoot me another anon or a message. I might be slow to respond because my sleep schedule is currently fucked to three more hells than normal, but I will definitely do what I can to help.

[kyloscomet]

Missing You || JDM

Summary: You haven’t seen your husband in months, due to him being away on press. After going to the spot that the two of you love the most, you get an interesting phone call.

Warnings: EXTREME FLUFF!!

Paring: Jeffrey x Female Reader

Words: 1767

Note: hello, familia! so, prettyepiic posted the gif above yesterday and I got hit with inspiration (*queue the rainbows and sparkles*). I wrote a small imagine for it, but then I was challenged to make it into a full fic so, here you are! grab your blankets and teddy bears, this one is hella fluffy! much love!

Tags: @prettyepiic 

“Umm… let me get the berrylicious iced tea. Hold on the sugar,” you asked, while digging into your purse. The cashier in front of you nodded and punched the buttons on their screen before telling you the total. The smell of coffee and cookies filled the air and the sighs of people waiting in line behind you resounded in your ears. It was lunch time in New York, and every little restaurant and coffee shop was filled with people looking to get something into their hungry bellies. This place, the Bean Boys coffee shop, was you and your husband’s favorite spot for midday treats. You remembered what he would always order. “A coffee, black, one spoon of sugar. Oh and a cake pop,” he would say, always eyeing the sprinkled ones in the glass case. You’d scoff at his obsession with them. “Jeff, you literally tasted half of one at a wedding once, and now you’re obsessed with them.” “I can’t help it,” he’d answer, chuckling, “They’re just so– oh my.” His face would light up every time that sprinkled little treat was handed to him. He swallow it in one bite, and you’d shake your head while taking your tea. He’d then take his coffee and you’d both sit at the same table, every time. The cashier looked at you as your pulled the money from your wallet, but as you handed him the cash, you saw the cake pops sitting in their glass case. You pulled out one more dollar and smiled. “Hand me one of the cake pops too.” The cashier, taking the dollar, nodded and punched it into the computer. He answered with your new total and handed you your receipt. Then he turned and took one from its case and handed it to you. “Your drink will be out shortly.” Nodding you walked over to the waiting spot. Looking down at the cake pop you wondered how Jeffrey was able to fit the full thing in his mouth every time. It was huge! You decided to give it a try. Opening your mouth as wide as you could, you took a bite. Sprinkles fell all over your shirt and frosting covered your lips. You chuckled to yourself. “Need a napkin?” You looked over to see a woman handing you a brown napkin with the name of the coffee shop spread on the front. You made an awkward smile and swallowed, taking the napkin. “Thanks,” you said. The woman nodded. “My husband is obsessed with these things and I never understood how he could fit the whole thing in his mouth with one go,” you admitted. The woman, her blue eyes becoming cheerful, released a soft laugh. “That’s funny,” she said, taking her drinks from the counter, “My husband loves their carrot cake! Every other day, like clockwork, he gets a craving for it.” You chuckled with her as your drink was the next to be served. The woman was then handed a small container holding a slice of the carrot cake. “Gotta hand this to the beast,” she joked. You laughed along with her. “Yeah, my husband is out of town so, I’m taking this one in his honor.” “Where is he?” “He’s on business,” you lied. Actually, Jeff was out doing press for the next season of his show, The Walking Dead. It was widely popular, and one thing Jeff had warned you about earlier, was how emotions with his character were still running high. He was perceived as they evil prick who murdered some of the good guys. But in full honesty, Negan was simply a man trying to survive and protect his people, no matter what it took. Very similar to his counterpart, Rick Grimes, if you said so yourself. “Aww well, I hope he comes home safely,” the woman said, nodding to her husband who was sitting in a booth. “It was nice talking to you,” she said. You returned the compliment and went your separate way, going to your favorite table. It was the one, second to the corner, along the windows. It was perfect for people watching, which you and Jeff loved to do when adult conversations were just too boring. You’d both point out the weirdos who walked down the street and laugh at the crazy things that, well, only ever happened in New York. You sat down and placed your bag on the floor, taking your phone out to place it on the table. Biting off the last of the cake pop, you slightly smiled and put the stick on a napkin next to you. You tasted the sweetness of your iced tea and felt at ease. The day was bright and sunny, but the sounds of the shop seemed to get louder. More people kept coming in and forming an even longer line then before. Sighing, you went down to your purse to pull out your headphones. You suddenly felt the table vibrate. You looked at the screen, to find your own face staring back at you, with the ID of ‘Norman Reedus’, showing at the top. Norman was FaceTiming you. You plugged in the headphones and made a face. He hasn’t ever FaceTimed you before, so maybe it was a mistake? After sticking the ear buds in your ears, you answered it. The call connected, but all you saw was a half black screen, and ceiling. “Hello?” You asked. There were voices coming through but, they were unfamiliar to you. You listened a little more carefully. “What time is it?” “Oh umm, 9:30.” “With the 3 hour difference… she’s probably at Bean Boys.” “What the fuck is Bean Boys?” It was Norman, for sure, but the other person? “You’ve never been to Bean Boys?!” said another voice in shock. It sounded like Jeff. “No–” “Oh, dude. It’s a little coffee shop by our house. There’s coffee and snacks…. They have these amazing cake pops there!” It’s Jeffery. “Cake pops?” You smirked and blushed a bit, turning up the volume on your headphones. “Yes! They’re balls of cake, frosting, and sprinkles; (Y/N) gets them for me every time we go and ugh!” Jeffrey groaned and you chuckled. You could just picture him slouching in his chair and rubbing his belly as he explained them to Norman. The phone moved and you could suddenly see Jeff, doing exactly that. He was dressed in a jean jacket and grey shirt, sporting his favorite Ford hat. You smiled, missing him very much. “Man, speaking of, I miss (Y/N),” he sighed, taking off his hat to fluff his hair. “I know, you asshole, you’ve told me 7 million times today.” “I have not,” Jeff replied, putting the hat back on and crossing his arms. “Yes, you have. Every other sentence is: I miss (Y/N)… I miss (Y/N)’s cooking… I miss (Y/N)’s blah blah blah,” Norman mocked. Jeffrey made a face. “We’re ready for you guys.” Both of them looked up at a young and spunky girl who had bright blue hair. She smiled, a piercing sticking out of her top lip. It was beautiful on her, but you cringed, thinking about how badly that had to hurt. She also had a lanyard around her neck that had a graphic card on the front reading 'SDCC Volunteer’, and a cut t-shirt that had a graphic of some band on the front. She motioned for them to follow her. Jeff and Norman stood and began walking as their conversation continued. “I love her and miss her,” Jeffrey started going, “I miss her kisses and her hugs, and I miss her hair, ohhh man her hair; it always smells so nice.” Norman groaned. “She also has this amazing smile that just leaves an impression on your brain, I can’t ever forget it.” Jeffrey then went on and on, telling Norman how much he loved and missed you. Your heart fluttered as you heard him blab over you. He made dramatic hand motions as he told memories and Norman, being the brother he said he’d be for Jeff, listened to every word. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand and smiled, your eyes almost welling with tears. You missed your cake pop loving husband. The two of them talked a little more, before someone interrupted. “Uhh, Norman want me to hold your phone while we take the pictures?” “Oh, yeah, just once sec,” he said. Suddenly, the screen brightened and Norman brought the camera to Jeffrey. His face flushed red and his eyes grew wide. “Hey,” you said, waving and laughing. Norman chuckled. Jeffrey’s hand went up in a hang 10. “Hey, baby,” he said, annoyed. Norman laughed and smiled. “I had her on here the whole time, bro!” “What do you mean the whole time?” Jeffrey asked, is face getting even redder. You laughed out loud and smiled. “It all started with the cake pops!” Norman chuckled and Jeffrey snatched the phone from him. “Give me that, you piece of shit,” he said jokingly. Jeffrey’s smile grew wide when he saw your face, and you blushed as he spoke. “You know all those things I said were true, right?” You nodded. “Of course, my love.” Jeffrey smiled and kissed the camera. “I miss you!” “I miss you too! I got a cake pop today,” you said, showing in your cakeless stick. He laughed and started to go on about how badly he wanted one, and that he refused to eat anyone else’s but Bean Boys. A few minutes went by as the two of you talked, and you could see flashes of light going off behind him. A woman came by with a makeup brush and she started powdering his cheekbones. He sighed. “Honey, I have to go, but I love you and we’ll talk as soon as I get back to the hotel. I’ll call you!” “Sounds good, hun,” you agreed, smiling. You said one last goodbye to Norman, before blowing a kiss to Jeffrey. After the call ended, you felt your heart flutter even more. You couldn’t wait to see him again! Standing to leave, you grabbed your bag. The line now was completely gone, the lunch time rush being over. The small room was now quieter and the only noise around was the air conditioner and a small radio that played in the corner of the shop, as well as a few people talking. Even the woman and her husband had left. You looked back and before leaving, looking at the counter. Taking a few steps forward and handing the cashier some money, you smiled and spoke. “One cake pop, please.”

[allthingsteenwolf20]

Family Vacation - Part One (Pack Mom)

The morning at the Hale loft was busier than expected. Derek and his mate had been up since 7:30am rushing around the house as the older alpha packed the car with everything they needed for their trip. A week ago, the pack had opted to go to the Hale lake house which was a 3 hour drive away from Beacon Hills. Derek had been running to and from the living room to the trunk of the car putting in their bags for their trip, whilst Y/N was in the kitchen zipping up the cooler bags of food for their journey and headed outside handing them to Derek as she went back into the loft to wake up Liam. The McCall pack’s youngest beta had grown quite attached to the pack mother confiding in her with problems he had been having at school and with his supernatural abilities. Y/N loved the young beta as her own taking care of him whenever he needed her. Derek was always at Y/N’s side when the young came to them with problems and soon he came a father figure to him especially when the young boy’s own parents failed to acknowledge his existence. Y/N headed into the loft and up the stairs to Liam’s room to wake the young pup. ‘’Liam, wake up sweetheart. The pack will be arriving soon. You need to get ready and come down for breakfast,’’ she told him gently shaking him as he groaned at his sleep being disturbed. ‘’…’m tired, momma,’’ Liam whined sleepily. ‘’I know, baby but you can sleep in the car on the way there,’’ She told him pressing another kiss to his cheek as she got up and opened the curtains in his room. ‘’You have 10 minutes, baby. We need to hurry,’’ She told him heading out of the room and back downstairs. The rest of the pack arrived and flooded into the kitchen. The boys gave Derek a hand making sure they had everything they needed packed as the girls sat around the kitchen island and greeted Y/N. ‘’Morning everyone,’’ she stated cheerily giving Lydia and Malia a hug. ‘’Hey, have you packed what you need? We’re heading out in 20 minutes,’’ Lydia told her. ‘’Yeah, I’m just sorting Liam out. He just needs to eat his breakfast,’’ she told them. As if on cue, the young beta trudged downstairs sleepily all dressed and carrying his backpack for the car journey. ‘’Good morning, baby,’’ Y/N cooed pressing a kiss to his crown as he sat down at the table. Y/N placed a plate of toast, eggs, bacon and tomatoes in front of him along with a small chocolate chip muffin and a glass of orange juice. Liam sat down and just stared at the food wanting to dig in as much as his stomach grumbled but knew that he had to restrict his eating or he really would be sick on the journey there. ‘’Liam, baby? What’s wrong?’’ Y/N asked him sitting beside him and cupped his cheek gently stroking it with the pad of her thumb. ‘’I don’t wanna eat, momma,’’ Liam told her but his stomach growled with hunger and he blushed. ‘’Why not, baby? You’re clearly hungry,’’ she told him. ‘’Because I’ll get car sick,’’ he told her. ‘’Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart. Momma will take care of you no matter like I always do but we’re not leaving until you eat something. I know you’re hungry,’’ she told him but Liam protested and shook his head no. ‘’Please baby, just a little bit. For momma, please?’’ she urged him. Liam played with his fingers not looking at her. Y/N scooped Liam up onto her lap and held him in her arms pressing a kiss to his forehead. ‘’What’s bothering you, baby? Please talk to me? Tell momma what’s wrong.’’ She gently urged him. ‘’I just don’t want to be sick and ruin the trip for everyone,’’ he told her. ‘’Oh honey. If you’re sick or not it doesn’t matter. I’m your momma and it’s my job to take care of you. It’ll be a great trip no matter what now come on, let momma feed you and we can get going ok?’’ She told him pressing a kiss to his cheek. Y/N scooped the egg up with a small piece of toast and brought it to Liam’s mouth and sighed a breath of relief when the young beta began to eat. ‘’That’s my good boy,’’ she cooed and she continued to feed him. ‘’Momma has everything prepared if anything happens. I’ve packed medical kits and lots of medicine for everything and so has Lydia. You’re well taken care of, sweetheart,’’ she continued to reassure him. Liam had finished eating his breakfast and Y/N praised him as she wiped his mouth and pressed a kiss to his temple. ‘’Ok, everything’s set,’’ Derek told them as he walked into the kitchen and clapped his hands together. ‘’Yeah, we’re ready to go so who’s sitting with who?’’ Stiles asked. It was decided that Lydia would take the backseat in Stile’s jeep along with Scott as Malia rode with Y/N, Derek and Liam. ‘’After an hour and thirty minutes, we’ll pull up a rest stop so everything can take a quick bathroom break and stretch their legs.’’ Scott told them and everyone nodded in agreement as they all headed to the cars as Derek set the alarm and locked up the loft. ‘’Alright, let the family vacation begin,’’ the older alpha smiled and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead as she buckled up in the passenger seat and Liam and Malia sat at the back. Derek drove out first leading the way as he waited for Stiles to catch up in his jeep as he followed behind as they drove down the road immediately got on to the highway. ‘’Just relax, baby. You’re ok,’’ Y/N told Liam with a loving smile. The young beta was nervous but gave her a small smile and nodded. ‘’That’s my good boy,’’ she praised him. ‘’If you need to take a break at any time, just let me know pup. We can stop at any time ok?’’, Derek also reassured him. The journey began to the Hale lake house. Derek concentrated on the road ahead, Y/N flipped through her phone looking at her social media, Malia was content with looking at out of the window watching the scenery roll by. Liam stared out of the window and had one headphone in his ear which played his favourite music and used the other to listen to Y/N and Derek when they spoke to him occasionally. Forty five minutes had passed and Liam began to feel uneasy in his seat. ‘’Momma, I don’t feel well,’’ Liam told her. ‘’What’s wrong, baby? Do you feel sick?’’ She asked him turning around in her seat and rest her hand on Liam’s knee reassuring him that she was here for him. ‘’Yeah,’’ he nodded when suddenly he began to gag and quickly grabbed the empty plastic carrier bag in front of him and threw up. ‘’Oh honey,’’ Y/N stated sympathetically. ‘’Ok that’s gross,’’ Malia commented trying to move away from Liam. ‘’Hold on just a little long, pup. There’s a rest stop coming up,’’ Derek reassured him. Y/N turned around in her seat to face Liam and handed him a tissue. ‘’..’m sorry, momma,’’ Liam sniffled as he wiped his mouth, tears falling down his cheeks as his bottom lip quivered. ‘’Hey, sssh sssh sssh. It’s ok. It’s ok. I’m right here, baby. You’re ok,’’ she reassured him loving. ‘’Malia, when we get to the rest stop, swap seats with me,’’ Y/N added. ‘’Definitely.’’ She said without hesitating. ‘’Hey, be nice,’’ Derek scolded her for being mean. The older alpha pulled up into the scarce parking lot as he pulled up into a spot. The couple got out and went to see to Liam. Derek texted Scott that they had to make a quick stop already because Liam wasn’t feeling well. ‘’Since, we’re here I’m going to go pee,’’ Malia told them as she headed towards the direction of the toilets. ‘’Thank you for that,’’ Derek nodded at his cousin but Malia rolled her eyes and continued to walk ahead. Y/N climbed into the back seat where Liam was. ‘’Come here, baby. It’s ok. I’m here.’’ She cooed wiping his mouth and held him in her arms for a few minutes to calm him down. She disposed of the sick bag in the trash and went to the toilets to wash her hands leaving Derek to watch over Liam. She headed back to the car and saw Derek with his arm around Liam as the young boy leaned into his side still sniffling. Malia was already sat in the passenger seat digging into a bag of candy. ‘’Everything’s going to be ok, pup. We’ll take care of you no matter just like we always do,’’ Derek reassured the young beta. Y/N smiled at how much of a loving father figure Derek was to Liam. Sure, at first he was nervous and a little distant but with loving encouragement from his mate he found himself upholding pack dad duty. ‘’Let’s get going, babe’’. Y/N told Derek looked up at her and nodded. ‘’Sure thing, babe,’’ he replied to her. ‘’You’ll be ok, kiddo. We’re all here for you,’’ Derek told Liam and pressed a kiss to the young boy’s forehead and got back into the driver’s seat buckling up. Y/N sat in the back next to Liam and wrapped her arms around him as he laid against her chest as she idly ran her fingers through his hair and occasionally pressed kissed on his forehead. ‘’Momma…’’ Liam whined sleepily against her. ‘’I’m right here, baby. You’re ok. Momma’s here. Try and get some sleep? That might help you feel better later ok?’’ she encouraged him as she took out a bottle of water from the cooler bag next to her, unscrewing the cap to feed it to him. Liam sat up taking a few sips and then nuzzled back into her chest trying to climb into her lap. He closed his eyes focusing on the sound of her heartbeat and her gentle touch as she lovingly caressed his hair pressing a kiss every so often to his crown. Liam was out within a few minutes as Y/N heard soft snores coming from below. ‘’Poor kid,’’ Derek commented as he glanced at Liam asleep against Y/N’s chest. ‘’I know. I hope he’s going to be ok. There’s still another 2 hours to go.’’ Y/N sighed and she looked down at Liam in her arms praying he’d be ok for the rest of the journey. ‘’This is going to be a long car ride,’’ Malia stated and sighed. Derek glanced at Y/N through the mirror and saw the worried look on her face as they both knew that Malia was right.