#or stay asleep for more than 4 hours in a row

[stillgotscars]

my appointment with my chronic pain specialist left me in tears… is anyone remotely surprised

[sanguineterrain]

"Wanna come over and nap together?"

The first time you suggest it, Jason's bewildered. Nap together? You want to be temporarily unconscious... with him??

Jason's not a nap guy. Never has been. He's always awake, always alert. Even when Bruce took him in, Jason didn't nap. He thought it was childish but even more than that, he never felt relaxed enough to sleep in the middle of the day.

You love naps. Can't get enough of them. You were born sleepy. Done with work/school? Nap. Worn out after getting up early? Nap! Stayed up too late last night? Yeah, it's naptime.

You're always down to sleep. You feel bad sometimes because it can result in sleeping instead of hanging out. But your body needs the extra rest some days.

Jason thinks it's cute that you're his sleepy sweetheart. He admires how you listen to your body and rest. (Working with Batman makes you internalize his motto: rest is for the weak.)

So one day, after Jason's on patrol for 4 days in a row, and you know he hasn't been sleeping, you call him up. "Come nap with me."

Jason warns you that he's never been a napper. "I can come over and wait for you to wake up. Or I can watch you sleep. In a nice, loving way. Not in a creepy way."

You convince him to give it a chance. Just lie down. If you fall asleep before him, he can go do something else.

So Jason obliges. Lays down and lets you curl into him. Snuggles into your warmth. Smells your scent on the sheet, basks in the quiet.

And, for the first time in his life, Jason Todd takes a nap. For 2 and a half hours.

You wake up around the same time. Jason is slow to awaken, and, for the first time, his body isn't in fight or flight mode. He wakes up gently. He wakes up to you.

"So," you say, sitting up. You're nervous because you've got a pretty guy that you really like in your bed, and you're a little worried you kicked him in your sleep or something. "What's the verdict?"

Jason smiles, really smiles, and tugs you back into his arms.

"I had no idea what I was missin'," he says, putting his face in your neck. "Can we do this again? Same time tomorrow?"

[longlivejemily]

After Office Hours p.2

Read Part 1 here!

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader continues to receive more extra credit at office hours with Professor Reid.

WC: 2.5k

Warning: Student/teacher relationship, slight sub/dom dynamics, semi-public sex, fingering (f receiving), hair pulling (f receiving), use of “baby,” “little girl,” and y/n. plz let me know if I’m missing any!

You spent 3 days with Dr. Reid being the only thing on your mind. Replaying Thursday night over and over and over. It was the last thing you thought of when you fell asleep, and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. The morning after you planned to study most of the day, so much for that. The image of him underneath you, holding you as you came undone is persistent in staying at the front of your mind. You spent at least an hour and a half zoned out imagining all the ways next week's office hours could go. Don’t show up before 7. What did he mean by that? What’s going to happen after office hours this week? 

Your criminology class is the only one you have on Mondays. You spent most of the day getting ready for his lecture. You took that time to pay more attention to your hair, makeup, and outfit. Taking one last look in the mirror before you left, you questioned if you did too much. Curled hair, winged liner, and so much jewelry to the point that you’re sparkling. At the last minute, you brush out your curls. Deciding to trade these fresh barrel curls for a light wave that will be easy to toss over your shoulder. You take off some of the jewelry, this is your criminology class, not a red carpet. 

With every step closer to his door, your anxiety grows. You sit in your normal seat, the third row back in the center. When he walks in, he glances towards you for just a second, and that is the only time he acknowledges you all day. 

You are more distracted than ever before in his class. 4 days ago he was still an object of your fantasies. Now you know how his hands feel on your body, how his voice sounds as he talks you through your orgasm. He talks with his hands when he lectures, you’ve never hated it until today.

All day you were falling behind in your notes. At one point he misspelled on the chalkboard and wiped away his mistake with his pointer and middle finger. Imagining those two fingers inside you had you lost in your dreams for at least 5 minutes. You regained consciousness and were focused on the material for all of 45 seconds when he decided to sit on his desk. Your eyes were laser-focused on his crotch while he subtly man-spread. Is he doing these things just to fuck with you? It was hard to say, he never made eye contact. As he would scan the room his eyes would skip yours. 

Was he trying to hide his attraction? Maybe if he didn’t look at you nothing ever happened? You felt a fire in the pit of your stomach. Not sexual tension, something else. Jealousy? You noticed his eyes linger on the front row which was all girls just auditing. They were there oogle at your professor for 3 hours a week and then had the audacity to come to office hours. Because they were auditing, their questions weren’t about the class and criminology, but about his social life and where he spends his free time. Hoping to get a glance at the professor when he wasn’t in teaching mode. 

You never liked those girls, they were distracting, and couldn’t care less about criminology or profiling. But now, you hate them. You want his glances at them to be towards you instead. You want to giggle at his jokes and have his eyes meet yours with a smile. How did one hour with him make you so possessive?

“That’s all for today, class. We’ll pick up where we left off on Wednesday. Please read chapters 12 and 13 in preparation.” As soon as he uttered that last word, you were out of there.

–

Your Wednesday class with Dr. Reid went the same as the class before. He simply ignored you. In hopes of getting his attention, you wore the same thing to class as you did during office hours last week. You arrive at class before him and when he walks in and sees you, he pauses for a moment, sucks in a breath, and continues his walk to his desk. Thanks to him you weren’t the only one with profiling skills. You noticed the slight change in his step and knew you had him hooked. Too bad he's not hooked enough that he still ignored you for all of class. Every time you raised your hand to answer a question he called on someone else. You’ve always been a jealous person, but this is something else. Possession, obsession, you needed to make him yours. This ‘game’ he was playing was getting really annoying.

–

You were an anxious mess for most of Thursday. You didn’t absorb any knowledge from your classes and skipped your study sessions with some classmates due to your zombie-like behavior. Not a zombie focused on brains, but Professor Reid. You even skipped your stats class due to worries that you would get out even later and miss your office hours with Dr. Reid. 

You traded your usual mini skirts for a knee-length one, which is more comfortable for your lack of underwear. You’re wearing thigh-high stockings with Mary Jane’s and a chunky sweater. Under the sweater, you have an extremely thin lace bra. You shaved your entire body this morning to get ready for him. Your makeup is gorgeous but mild, and completely waterproof. You have no idea how tonight is going to go, got to be prepared!

The click of your heels down the hallway and the blood rushing in your ears are the only things you can hear on the walk to Dr. Reid’s office. You take a deep breath to ground yourself before you turn the corner of his hallway. It’s 7:05 and you hang out for a few moments outside his door. You pretend to read a plaque on the wall that lists the prominent people to have come out of your university. You are trying to look busy in case another student exits his office. After 5 minutes of reading the names of old white men, you get the courage to knock on his door. You only have to wait a few moments after knocking for him to appear in front of you. Your neck snaps up to meet his eyes as a shy smile appears on both of your faces. “Y/N! Thank you for coming to office hours, welcome.” He steps to the side letting you enter, locking the door behind him just as last time. 

Hearing the click of the lock sends heat straight to your core. You have to resist the urge to climb him like a tree. Instead, you both sit across from each other, the desk and thick air of sexual tension the only thing between you. You are having deja vu from last week as he asks, “What can I do for you?” Earth-shattering rough sex would be just fine, you think to yourself. “Yeah I do have a question about class this week, were you having fun teasing me?” He licks his lips and avoids eye contact. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says with a gulp.

 “Oh fess up professor.” You say while standing and walking over to the other side of his desk. You sit atop it facing him while keeping your ankles crossed. You don’t want to tip him off about your lack of underwear just yet. You flash a smile at him while touching his knee with the side of your foot. “Okay,” he says with a sigh. “I wasn’t teasing you. Not on purpose, at least. I felt that if I acknowledged you, for some reason everyone would know about us.” You blush at his last syllable as he continues. “This job is very important to me, it gives me purpose. But also I can’t get you out of my head. I was afraid of my glances lingering too long and tipping someone off. I traded my glances at you for glances at the auditors in the front row. I was looking at them, but only thinking about you.”

You smirk at the subtle shade he throws at the girls who are paying to look at him twice a week. “Less talking about the girls in the front row, let's move forward with how I can gain some extra credit.” You say while uncrossing your ankles. He is immediately peaking underneath your skirt. He starts to blush when he meets your eyes and knows he's been caught. “Dr Reid you don’t have to sneak a peak, just ask,” you say in a seductive tone while slowly spreading your legs. He slightly rolls his chair back to get a better view. He sees something shiny between your thighs. It takes a moment for him to realize that it's your slick catching the low light in his office. When he realises you skipped on underwear he grunts and stands up. He stands in between your spread thighs and puts his strong hands on your waist. “No underwear huh?” You blush and look away. 

He takes a hand and grabs your chin to look up at him. “You’re brave walking around campus like that.” “What can I say? You’re worth the risk.” Those suggestive words make Spencer lose all of his control. He grips your face with both of his hands and kisses you with fervor and passion. You kiss him back with the pent-up feelings you’ve been having all semester. You’ve never been kissed like this, it’s like he wants to swallow you whole. His tongue is tasting all of you like a man starved. When you pull back for air he doesn’t stop, just lowers his head and continues his assault on your neck. Sucking on your pulse point causes you to let out a moan, and he moans back. 

His eyes meet yours and he eagerly says, “Can I touch you?” “Please.” His lips find your neck again and he wastes no time putting his fingers to your clit. You moan immediately and he catches your mouth with his. He whispers against your lips, “Shh baby can’t have anyone hearing you. Gotta be quiet for me.” You nod eagerly and he continues devouring your neck. You have always had a fascination with his hands; feeling them against your most sensitive spot is quite literally a dream come true.

You pull him back up from your neck and connect your lips once again. You can’t get enough of him. His tongue dances with yours naturally, like muscle memory. As he draws shapes over your nerves your mind goes blank with bliss. Dr. Reid is taking up all of your senses. It’s as though he’s all you’ve ever known. You could die right now and be okay with it. 

You start to feel that familiar heat in your abdomen, feeling shocked at how quickly he got you here. A man has never been this successful with you before. Dr. Reid plunges two fingers inside of you unexpectedly, and you moan loudly into his mouth. He pauses his movements to whisper, “Be quiet little girl I’m not gonna tell you again.” It’s so hard to stay quiet with his beautiful hands in you and his perfect lips on you. If his fingers feel this good you can’t imagine how good his dick is going to feel. The way he’s slamming his fingers into you has tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’re gripping the edge of his desk tight as if this moment will disappear when you let go. 

As his long fingers fill you up just right, his palm meets your clit in a delicious way. “Oh god doctor don’t stop” you instinctively moan. “Never baby, this is -oh- all for you.” He’s getting off by just providing you pleasure, you wonder how well this will benefit you in the future. His free hand grabs a handful of hair and pulls your head back. “Is this what you wanted little girl? Gave a ruse of extra credit just so I could fuck you with my hand?” You’re too drunk on him to form a coherent response, a string of moans pours out of your mouth instead. “I thought you were a smart girl huh? did I fuck you stupid?” No response, just a breathy moan. 

He feels your pussy tightening on him, “Oh my god Dr. Reid.” “Come for me, baby.” He starts kissing you again as you come. You truly thought this could only happen in your dreams. Making out with Dr. Reid while he finger-fucks you and you’re cumming all over his hands. Your vision goes white and you feel your soul rise out of your body. This is the best orgasm you’ve ever had. When you come back to earth, Dr. Reid's hand is still in your pussy and he is still kissing you. Your lips are barely moving at this point but he doesn’t care, he just wants to keep tasing you. 

You pull back from him and look at him amazed. He looks back at you concerned but then you just smile. You see him start to relax. “You okay?” “More than okay,” you say with a giggle. “Thank you, professor. That was truly educational.” “Oh yeah? What’d you learn?” “How your hands feel when they’re inside of me. It was even better than I hoped.” He smiles and gives you a quick kiss and grabs both of your hands. “Can you stand?” As you slide off his desk your knees buckle a little but the Doctor catches you and helps you stand up straight. “Sorry, I thought I’d fully recovered.” “Are you going to be okay getting home, y/n?” “Yeah, my apartment is only like a 10-minute walk.” 

“A ten-minute walk for someone your age is about half a mile! Please let me take you home.” “It’s okay Dr. Reid it’s a safe campus and I’m always aware of my surroundings.” “I don’t know it’s kind of late.” “I do this walk all the time when it’s dark. I’ll let my roommates know I’m coming home and to watch my location. I’ll be okay I promise.” He raises an eyebrow at you. He steps away from you for the first time since you got here to dig through his desk drawer. He pulls out sticky notes and a pen and jots something down quickly. “This is my cell phone number. Please text me once you’re home.” 

You are screaming on the inside when you grab the paper from him and your fingertips brush. Dr. Reids phone number!!! No way this is actually happening. You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder before you say goodbye. “Thank you, Dr. Reid. This was fun.” “It’s always a pleasure Ms. y/l/n. Same time next week?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You smile, turn away from him, and walk out the door. 

a/n: thank you all so much for your support on this story! It means so much to me and makes me want to continue writing. Sorry this took so long, I had so many ideas it was hard to decide on which way to go with this story. Please keep liking and sharing and I would love more ideas!

Taglist: @beansarecooler @bubbleebubz thank you ily

[jezabelle9299]

Morning Sunshine S.R x fem! Reader

Overture- Sleepy Spencer x Morning person fem! Reader. They're sharing a room, and he has no idea how you're so lovely this early.

Cws- Exhaustion

A/N-Wow, before it's even midnight--I'm practically productive. Day 17, I'm very excited. This is shorter, but I do kind of really like this idea.

If you'd like to read the other things I've done this month you can do that here: October Masterlist

**************************

By Day 4 of this practically endless case, morale was at an all time low. The small motel had enough rooms for everyone for the first 3 days of the case, but now it was the weekend and they were nearly packed. And of course Spencer’s luck had him stuck with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head for months now, in some cosmic joke where he’s trapped with quite possibly the love of his life–sleeping four feet away from him in a different bed. 

Of course it wasn’t actually a matter of fate, just a gentle push from JJ.

He stayed behind at the police station until he was sure you’d be asleep, then he muddled back to your shared room thanking every deity he could name that you were fast asleep. Only to thank each of them again at his exhaustion allowing him to just pass out without thinking himself into a panic just by being near you. 

You however were just a little bit overjoyed when Hotch was handing out the second round of room keys. Packing cuter pajamas was no longer an option, but you were still looking forward to Spencer being the last person you saw after this terrible day. If only he was actually there. You honestly assumed he decided to just sleep in Derek’s room to avoid you– a thought that hurt your feelings more than you’d like to admit. 

When Spencer did wake up to the lovely sound of his alarm screaming at him, he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was you. He knew you were a morning person, but he never expected this. It was barely 5am, and you were bopping around in front of the mirror, headphones on, applying makeup while singing along quietly to yourself. He watched you for a moment, only drawing your attention when he sat up and you caught his reflection.

“Good morning” You looked at him in the mirror, and even though your makeup was only halfway done, he still thought you were utterly gorgeous. His first thought was how beautiful you were, but his exhausted brain couldn’t form a singular other thought yet. But you thought he was adorable, with his hair lovingly disheveled.

“It’s so early.” He knew you had been getting as little sleep as he had, barely 5 hours for 4 days in a row. How on Earth were you awake, up, and nice at this hour?

“You could probably go back to sleep for a few more minutes, we aren’t supposed to meet until 6:30.”

“No it’s ok, I usually like to read and drink my coffee before I have to get back to work. But what are you doing up so early?” He slumped over forwards, burying his face in his hands to rub his eyes. When he finally sat back up, he was reaching around to grab his glasses off the hotel nightstand, and you had to fight to keep from swooning.

“I was going to go get breakfast before we have to meet up with everyone, you can come with me if you want? I saw this place on the way here, it’s only like a block away. You can even bring your book, and I won’t bug you. I know not everyone’s chatty in the morning.”  You turned your attention back to your own reflection, and he hated the assumption that he would just ignore you over breakfast. Even if he hadn’t slept at all, he’d want to talk to you.

“I’ve been told I’m chatty all the time. Well chatty isn’t usually the word used, but that’s the sentiment–I’d love to go to breakfast with you.” 

“I like listening to you talk, for the record. But I’m going to finish up with my makeup while you get ready, ok?” 

“Ok.” He made no move to get ready, only starting to lean back further against the headboard. You had extra time this morning, but not quite that much. 

“That may require getting out of bed.”

“Ok.” He still made no move to get up, and you just laughed. He had to get up eventually, but you’d let him stay there if he felt like it. You could be a few minutes late for the morning briefing.

[mydarlingclaudia]

this is life

note : divider is from @/the-aesthetics-shop. ermm never written Chris before idk how good this is and ik it's ooc and this is way short. this wasn't in my wip game thing because I started this like 4 hours ago but I love him very much so uh here I feel scared. is it obvious I don't know how to do a good description.

wc : 1.2k

tags : @lottiies

desc : like a lover should. fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst (not really tho), established relationship, any Chris but at the end it's post re8!Chris, fem!reader, not proofread.

Chris knows the sounds of explosions and gunfire more than he knows anything else. He knows the feeling of blood-soaked clothes and heavy bulletproof vests weighing down on his chest as if they’re meant to be worn everyday. He’ll never forget the weight of a gun in his hand, won’t forget how to curl his fingers around a knife and hold it outwards, waiting for whatever is going to lunge at him from the darkness.

But Chris knows the sound of your voice, too. Knows the feeling of your skin underneath his fingertips, how your weight feels lying on top of him late at night. He loves how your hand squeezes his, how your arms wrap around his neck to hold him closer.

His apartment became yours once you stepped into his life. Your makeup is scattered across the counter in his bathroom, your clothes are in his closet, your soaps are in his shower, the smell of his cigarettes quickly mixed with the smell of your perfume. Chris loves it, really. It didn’t happen overnight, Chris wasn’t around all that much, but you always waited and showed up whenever you wanted to, he gave you a spare key for a reason.

He thinks you care about him more than you should, that you shouldn't worry about him so much and that you don't need to give him a massage every time he comes home along with an actual meal instead of whatever food was being rationed out to him on his latest mission. But you do, every single time. Chris wishes you would sleep and not stay up texting him when he tells you he's on his way home, he won't admit that seeing your endless row of texts filling his screen with news of what he's missed over the past few days never fails to make him smile.

You've always known that what Chris does is dangerous, you don't know that he fights monsters straight out of sci-fi movies, but what matters to you is that he comes home in one piece. Truth is, you love him, and he lets you. Chris isn't always the easiest to love and care for, you know there are things he doesn't tell you, but the way he holds you in the morning while he's still asleep is something else entirely.

The time that you did learn about everything he did was after the Edonia and China mess.

You thought he left you, what else were you supposed to think when he went completely radio silent for almost a year? No one seemed to know where he was, you hadn't gotten any news that he was dead, so he had to still be alive, right? You still took care of his apartment, making sure no one broke in, you were hardly back at your own place the whole time he was away, you were just hoping that a few things would be moved around the apartment whenever you came to check on it, just a hint that he was back home and hadn't told you yet.

But he went to your home the night he came back, was there to catch you when you broke down and cried about all the horrible things you thought had happened to him. At least he showered before he came to you. He sounded like a broken record, apologizing over and over again while you just clutched onto his shirt with your head buried in his shoulder.

It took you maybe an hour to calm down, he had the decency to wait for you to stop hiccuping through your tears before he explained himself. You've got every right to be mad at him, and he knows you are, but he's sure you'll nag him some other time when you're not holding onto him like a lifeline.

You probably don't even believe what he's telling you about bioweapons, you don't even know what the fuck that word really means, but it's his job to get rid of them, play exterminator. You just sat there on your bed with a confused expression the whole time, leaning on his shoulder while you sniffled softly. They're monsters, that's how he described them, like something you see in nightmares.

"So... what, like... Godzilla, or something? That's what they are?" You asked him, eyebrows still knitted together. Chris just looked at you, not really sure how to tell you that the undead weren't even in the same category as some of the things he's fought over the years.

"Yeah, kinda." He didn't need to explain further, you were too tired to comprehend the horrors mankind could make. So he let you sleep, kept you in his arms the whole night. He'd wait until tomorrow to tell you he had to keep doing this until the day he died, but he promised to not keep you waiting the next time he leaves.

—

Chris decides that years later, when you're in the kitchen, sitting across from him at the table burping a baby over your shoulder, not his, not yours, that he can't lose you. He almost lost Jill, did lose Piers and Ethan, along with countless other teammates along the line. But now he's got Ethan's baby in his house, he told you more things about his job now, he told you what happened to Ethan and that Rose would be in his care for a little bit, you had only smiled at him.

He should've married you by now. God, what kind of man was he? Dating the woman of his dreams for over a decade and never even trying to propose? He doesn't know why you let him get away with that. You've long since moved in with him, all your things were practically in his apartment by the time he asked if you just wanted to stay and not leave, took absolutely nothing to convince you.

And looking at you with Rose in your arms finally makes him realize as he's pushing fifty that he should have settled with you sooner. Maybe you just never asked because of his job, maybe you were fine with how things were.

"Did you... ever want kids?" He mumbled, avoiding your gaze and instead staring into his coffee cup. You have to think for a second, still rocking the baby in your arms back and forth.

"One would've been nice." You answer him. Shit, now he feels like he's ruined everything.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I'm happy we waited." Chris looked up at you, not expecting to be greeted with the smile on your face. You stand up to put Rose into her highchair so you can go get your toast from the toaster, Chris follows you after a few seconds.

"Don't know how you put up with me," His hands find their way to your waist, pressing his chest to your back and resting his head against yours. His hands are still rough from years in battle, he doesn't think he'll ever really be able to relax, but you still love to dote on him whenever you can, it makes him feel like he's meant to be here with you.

"Well, you're quite handsome." Chris smiles and presses a kiss to the side of your head, there have been mornings like this hundreds of times, he can only hope for more in the future.

"You're too good to me."

"Lucky you,"

"I know." He's got the day off, he should go buy you a ring, make things more permanent than they already are.

[bberryuniverse]

More than enough || yh x reader

✧ mobster!yunho x afab!reader

✧ genre: gang!au, angst, fluff (a tiny spoon at the end, I promise)

✧ word count: 2.9k

✧ warning content: graphic violence, mentions/description of death, slaughter and injuries, cursing, guns, verbal harassment

✧ a/n: I don’t support nor romanticize criminal actions, much less believe that any member of ateez would be part of something like that. The following story has the sole purpose of being a fictional work and that’s all.

You sat on the couch after walking around your apartment for the seventh time in a row, trying to get your attention away from the almost imperceptible sound of the clock ticking on the wall. It’s 3am, It has been 12 hours since Yunho has gone to work, and he didn’t even bothered to sent you a single message reassuring he was ok. His Thursday’s schedule did not include night shifts, you checked out ten times carefully, but there was nothing written about it.

It’s not like he ever sent you anything during his hospital shifts, you didn’t expected much, working at the ER must be exhausting, but a single “hi” or “I’ll be back in 4 hours” would be enough.

But no.

He had to keep you awake all night, waiting anxiously to hear the door opening, to reveal his tiring eyes and wrinkled clothes, ready to give you the warmest hug. Today, you had no idea what time he would get home, again. There’s been 2 weeks since this irregularity on his schedule has started, and it was giving you the nerves. Adding to that, every time you questioned him about it the other day, he would say the same old thing:

“Nothing much, I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, just dumbhead coworkers.”

Yunho would always find a new way to change the subject, like you weren’t aware or even noticed it him doing so. But the last thing you’re looking for is an argument, even though this whole situation’s been upsetting, you just leave it behind.

Besides that, you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, Yunho was everything and so much more.

At first, you thought it wouldn’t last long, your first date was quiet, almost unsettling, as he wouldn’t say or do much more than stare directly at your eyes, and comment vaguely about the topics you brought. It took a while before he finally started to get used with your presence, six dates to be exact.

Honestly, it felt like a little puppy getting to know its environment before becoming an energetic and clingy beast. You’d never guess that the 6ft tall cold guy would be the type of boyfriend to take you on late night walks to get vanilla ice cream at the convenience store and chatter about your day, or teach you calmly how to play his favorite games so you could play with him (even though you suck at it), and even grab you by the hand to slow dance at the living room after a delightful dinner. Every time you two were together, Yunho acted like he wasn’t aware of the “personal space” concept at all, and you were fine with that.

He was your safe place, why would you like to stay away from him without any news for so long? His work shifts were confusing, but he’s not the one to blame.

As you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier, you checked your phone once again, still hoping for any signs of Yunho. But again, none. You huffed and laid down your head on the couch, pressing your temples, exhausted.

Fuck it - you mumbled, just giving it up, throwing your phone in the pillow next to you.

And once again, the sound of the clock ticking was banging on your head annoyingly, and you tried to relax as your eyes slowly started to close.

But you just didn’t expected a second presence on the living room to be watching you from behind, just waiting for the best timing since he broke into your apartment two minutes ago.

By the time you were about to fall asleep, a sudden hand grabbed around your neck tightly enough to take you gasp for air, and as your scream was about to leave your throat, a big hand covered your mouth faster.

It’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you, doll - you heard a deep and raspy voice whispering next to your ear, making you start to panic and struggle around his hand, trying to release yourself from that tight grip with all your energy - What’s the matter? I just wanna talk…- he laughed

Desperately, you reached out for your phone, but not fast enough to go unnoticed by the older man.

I wouldn’t do that If I were you - his hand tightened harshly around your neck, making you release a muffled scream and dig your nails on his hand.

He pulled you out of the couch and gave a sudden kick behind your knees, leading you to the ground violently, as he pressed his own body against yours to stabilize you and grab both wrists of yours. As a thick layer of tape wraps around it, you tried taking advantage of the time he took his hand out of your mouth, and released a loud scream.

You just don’t give up, do you? Such a dumb fucking bitch - he gritted his teeth, pulling you up by the arm and throwing you on the couch.

Please… - you felt a knot forming on your throat and your eyes starting to get blurry with the amount of tears forming there - I-I don’t have anything to offer…

The words escaped from your mouth as he took his hand to his pocket, pulling a whole gun and pointing it to your face, leaving you speechless.

Where’s Yunho? - he spits out calmly.

W-What? - you frowned, flinching as the man approaches, seeming more pissed than before

Don’t act stupid. Where. Is. Yunho? - he repeats himself, kneeling in front of you before lifting your chin with the gun.

You couldn’t think straight, your heart was quickly bumping into your chest as your whole body was a trembling mess. Even if you were trying to form sentences, the only sounds that came from your mouth were sobs. Mere seconds passed and you weren’t capable to say a thing, only stressing the unknown man in front of you more.

Then, a burning sensation appeared at your cheek as he let a strong slap at it, making you finally burst into tears.

I don’t know! Please, I don’t know a thing, he’s just a way too busy doctor, he didn’t even came home yet - you shouted desperately between sobs and tears - Just let me go, please

Suddenly, the man’s expression seemed to change too quickly, and the sadistic smile appearing on his face just made you feel more tense.

A doctor, huh? Well, let’s wait for him together, then, shall we? - he walked away from you, took the tape roll again and grabbed a good amount of it, coming straight to you again.

You panicked and started to mumble no uncountable times, trying to move away from his grip and kicking your feet directly at him. Yet again, your efforts were useless, as he taped your mouth shut quite easily thanks to his strong arms and big proportions.

Now, be a good doll, alright? - he finished, dragging you by the hair once again to the cold floor.

As you started to struggle and let out muffled cries, a sudden sound of a gun being loaded got your attention.

There he was, Yunho, your warmhearted boyfriend holding a pistol straight to the man’s head.

You went pale, and a buzzing noise echoed on your head. He seemed nothing like the man who kissed your whole face before going to work hours ago. His eyes were darkened, and his face held a complete emotionless expression, almost resembling the Yunho you went on a date with for the first time, but worse.

You see, doll? Doctor Yunho arrived in no time - the old man said with a sarcastic tone, forcing you to stand up with your shaky legs, almost falling down due to the clear difficulty you were facing to keep a decent posture in this situation. Once Yunho gave a single aggressive step forwards you, the man gave a step back immediately - Not even a single inch closer, kid.

You felt the cold metal of the gun pressing against your forehead, but there was no signal of reaction coming from you. Your body was still, your lungs were expanding harshly and you felt like you could throw up your own heart in any moment, but not even a single flinch was noticed.

Let her go. - Yunho said in a monotone tone, looking straight at the man’s eyes - She has nothing to do with this.

Of course not - he laughed - You didn’t even bother to tell your own whore about your dirty little secret, I mean, she really has nothing to do with this, but wouldn’t it be so lame to waste such a fun situation? - the old man paused, licking his lips as he switched his eyes between you and your boyfriend - Now tell her, you coward, tell her how your fucking gang slaughtered a whole convention days ago.

Accidentally, you sobbed too loud, catching your boyfriend’s attention. As your eyes met, you could clearly see an apologetic face forming for mere seconds before he turned back his attention to the man, as if he stayed staring at you for too long, he’d cry out of frustration.

You are such a liar, Jeong Yunho - he continued, now taking his free hand to your neck - You really thought your princess would never find out and your lies would protect her forever? Come on, don’t be such a fool…

I won’t ask twice - Yunho ignored all the discourse, gritting his teeth before opening a strange smile - I don’t have a thing to deal with you anymore, what’s done is done, or do you really think coming after me will make all your stupidass friends come back to life?

A dry laugh came out of Yunho’s mouth, simultaneously, you felt the grip around your neck getting much tighter that made you gasp for air automatically. As you thought it couldn’t get worse, the sound of the gun getting loaded next to your face made you more desperate than before.

How about I just pull the trigger and explode your brain out right in front of your lovely prince, huh? - he cooed close to your ear, laughing at your attempts to free yourself from his grip, only giving him more energy to choke you even more.

From that moment on, you couldn’t think straight anymore, your whole body was getting more numb and lighter, and your eyes started to feel heavier, your gasps for air were useless. The alternative to let tiredness win over you was the only thing that was banging on your mind, your options were limited.

Please - you heard Yunho spat, sounding like that wasn’t supposed to come out - Let her go.

He couldn’t bear watching you go pale and weaker right in front of him anymore, being unable to move any muscles to get you out of this situation was killing him from the inside. The huge guilt growing on him was agonizing, and the possibility of something bad happening to you due to his own mistakes gave him the urge to act impulsively.

Oh? Now we are going to beg? Okay, let’s do that - the man laughed briefly - Put the gun on the ground.

And just like he was demanded, he dropped the weapon on the floor without hesitation, then leading his hand above his head, keeping the cold stare on his face.

Just when you thought you’d go unconscious, the tightness around your neck was over abruptly, leaving your weak body without any support. Pathetically, you fell to the floor on your knees, bursting into tears of relief and pain as you breathed heavily looking for air.

On your knees - the man passed by you and got right in front of Yunho, yet still pointing the gun at you.

Your boyfriend looked at you once more before taking a deep breath, doing just like he was forced to. Slowly, the man changed the direction of his target to Yunho, which cause you to let out a muffled No as you shook your head nonstop.

Isn’t it lovely? A beautiful couple sacrificed right in front of each other because of some failing overprotection? - the standing man giggles excitedly - Which one should be the first? Oh, perhaps, I can take the whore with me right after blowing your head, I mean, it would be such a waste to get rid of a woman like her, right?

He kicked the gun that was close to your boyfriend away, kneeling down at the same height of Yunho as he laughed at him.

What do you think? Is she a nice fuck doll? - the last sentence that came out of the older man made Yunho’s blood boil instantly, but his only reaction was an incomprehensible mumble, as he closed his eyes - Come again?

After that, everything just happened too fast, fast enough to vanish all your pain away and get you paralyzed in pure terror.

You saw red gushing out of the man’s throat as Yunho sticks deeply a dagger directly at his jugular, pushing it out right after. The sound of the man chocking on his own blood, your boyfriend pushing him to the floor and giving uncountable stabs on its throat and consequently getting half of his body covered in blood got you in a state of shock.

Yunho violently killed the man with no remorse or difficulty on sight right in front of you. Your heartwarming lover you once believed being just a workaholic and tired doctor took someone’s life with his bare hands on purpose.

You didn’t realize his proximity to you until he wrapped his arms around you warmly and tight on a desperate hug.

I came as soon as I knew he had my address, I should’ve known this shit would happen sooner or later - Yunho said rapidly with a worried tone, letting go of the hug and carefully taking the tape from your mouth - I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, my dear.

He went behind you, took out that thick layer of tape from your now hurting wrists, and cupped your face with both of his hands once he got in front of you again. The smell of fresh blood coming from his red stained hands made you sick, making him take it away as soon as he noticed.

Come on, there’s people waiting for us outside, take a rest and I’ll tell you everything once you wake up…- he helped you slowly stand on your feet.

And that was it. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Do you think I’m some kind of stupid joke to you?!! - you shouted at him, feeling a huge urge to start crying one more time as your voice got shaky. He got taken aback with your reaction, but as much as he wanted to make any excuses, nothing was acceptable enough to justify the lie he’d been keeping up for months.

He fucked up, really really fucked up this time, and then dragged you into some kind of situation that definitely wouldn’t get out of your mind for the time being.

You’re such a liar, covering up your problems and making cheap excuses does not solve anything, Yunho! - you kept spitting out everything that’s been accumulating on your throat for the past days - Now I don’t have any clue if I really know my own boyfriend…

You know me - he interrupted you pulling you closer by your shoulders, staring directly at your eyes with a confused look - I’ve never opened up so much like this before with anybody else, you probably know me more than my own self, darling. Now, please, let me take you somewhere safer, we can’t stay here

Yunho lowered his voice in the last sentence, you clearly saw pain through his words and eyes as he frowned.

Even though you didn’t wanted to believe a single thing he said to you, his eyes made you even more confused, clearly seeing honesty on them. Yunho got an impressive ability to switch between that emotionless and terrifying look, and the one and only “I’m just your Golden Retriever boyfriend” look he was giving you intensively. You’d get more and more tired by the twists and turns going around your thoughts each time you forced yourself to think about everything that happened in less than an hour, only increasing your desire to collapse on the ground, and then shout until your vocal cords disintegrate it completely.

For the first time, you actually felt like I’d be more appropriate if you could get some rest before having another gigantic wave of information crashing into your chest again. You just needed your boyfriend at the moment, and nothing more than that. It would be a huge lie if you said that you didn’t wanted to jump right into his arms looking for protection since he made himself present on the past suffocating scene.

As you finally give in, throwing yourself into his arms, he immediately picked you up, firmly holding your exhausted body next to his.

If you end up doing something like this to me ever again, I swear…- you whispered as your eyes closed, letting all the tense muscles relax at last.

I’ll keep you safe, I promise you, sweetheart - Yunho pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, opening a weak smile as you let a soft whimper - As long as I’m breathing, nothing bad will ever happen to you again.

For now, his presence would be more than enough for you, whoever he'd be in the end, a doctor, a gangster, or whatever, his love and care for you was capable of supplying all your needs.

[chillian-murphy]

💨🍃 CILLIAN MURPHY CHARACTERS AND CANNABIS HEADCANONS🍃💨

In celebration of 4/20. This is gonna be more jankily written than other headcanon lists for obvious reasons.

TOMMY SHELBY

*Takes a 100mg indica edible in hopes that it would calm him down or help him fall asleep or put him in a coma or something

*It does not

*Now he's just sitting there, too lazy to move, but instead of it being relaxing he just feels trapped in his own body

*Wonders if he's in purgatory and is undeserving of both heaven and hell

*Oh god now the dry mouth is setting in

*Would feel a thousand times better if he just drank some water and ate something

*Is too stubborn to drink water and eat something, he's Tommy fucking Shelby

*Dude seriously just have a little snack and a gatorade

JACKSON RIPPNER

*Generally stays away from anything that he thinks dulls his sense

*Likes to occasionally use weed as a way to get his target's guards down and to "bond" with them to gain their trust

*Offering to pass the joint around is a great way to make friends, even if you're as much of an asshole as Jackson

*Loves watching his victims get giggly and talkative

*Tries not to partake so he can keep his mind sharp, using slight of hand to distract people from noticing how he never takes a hit, but can't always resist the urge

*Hit the joint a little too hard and accidentally got really into Joe Rogan's podcast

JONATHAN CRANE

*Purposefully seeks out the shit that makes him paranoid

*Uses it as a way to come up with new nightmare scenarios to torture people with

*This process is pretty hit or miss, though. Sometimes it helps him come up with incomprehensible horrors, sometimes it's the stupidest shit known to man.

*One time came up with the genuinely horrifying "what if every time I felt weird about something in public, I was intercepting the thoughts of people who wished to harm me?"

*Another time came up with "what I looked to hard at my fingers and it turned out my finger had its own smaller fingers?"

*Mostly just thinks the neighbors are spying on him when he masturbates

ROBERT FISCHER

*Has the best equipment money can buy for getting zooted

*Claims it helps him escape from his own brain

*Hires someone to pick out strains for him like a weed sommelier

*Likes to get crossfaded, so his weed sommelier and his actual sommelier are on a first-name basis with one another

*Preferred consumption method is using a dry herb vape, he finds that taste the cleanest and gets him the highest

*Becomes very tactile while high and his favorite thing to do is get a massage

NEIL LEWIS

*Not super picky about strains, but tends to opt for Blue Dream because it's cheap and reliable

*Likes to fo classic stoner shit: chill, watch movies, go on walks, invent new snacks

*texts you "🅱️ ambuger 🅱️ elper" five times in a row and does not elaborate

*realizes that it would be a genius idea to have a Cheech and Chong marathon at the shop on 4/20, texts everyone he knows about it

*"What do you think we're doing right now, asshole?!?" responses from Lucien and Jonathan

*... Oh, right, he was supposed to be at work an hour ago

KITTEN BRADEN

*Actually the only character on this list to smoke weed on-screen, if you can believe it

*Hates just sitting around doing nothing when she smokes, wants to go out and do something

*Her favorite is lighting up before going out dancing, it just makes being out and about so much more *fun*

*Would love buying gold-trimmed rolling papers off of Etsy if it had been around in her weed smoking heyday.

*Considers herself a genius for realizing that you can use a bobby pin as a roach holder

[spicyllewyn]

Kinktober 5. - Pregnant / lactation.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Pregnancy + lactation. (+18)

As you all know I hate Will for no real reason, this is my peace offering to a fictional character, lol.

Word count. 2K

Summary. You love babying him.

Kinktober masterlist.

Pregnancy was becoming unbearable at times; you felt heavy, your feet ached even after just a few steps around the house, and sleeping at night was turning into a daily battle. Fortunately, there was no doubt in your mind that you had chosen the right life partner.

The only thing keeping you sane right now was Will and how he went out of his way to make you happy and make this whole thing more bearable.

You always joked with him, saying that anyway, all of this was his fault, so the least he could do for you was to fulfill your cravings and massage your shoulders until you fell asleep.

Oh, and that pillow with a hole in the center that allowed you to lie face down.

"I miss my pillow," you murmured in a low tone as you remembered it. You closed the door behind you slowly.

Will's room was just as he had left it several years ago when he left home for college, where he met you. Nonetheless, you wandered around with curiosity, looking at his movie posters that perhaps only he had seen, and the occasional Lego figure that you doubted he would let his future child touch someday.

"I told you we could come up with some excuse."

"Every time you suggest we make up an excuse, it has to do with pretending that one of us died," you rolled your eyes. "Your parents are not believing it for more than two times in a row." When you had 4 walls around you for privacy, your hands went to the hem of your shirt, getting rid of it, clearly tired of wearing any type of clothing.

Will watched you from the bed, as if you were giving him a personal show. His eyes roaming over your bare skin, always lingering a few extra seconds on your breasts before looking up again and pretending that the lack of sex wasn't killing him.

You were both too introverted to simply ask at gynecologist appointments, “Hey, is it wise to have uncontrolled sex against some furniture at this point in pregnancy?” so you just assumed the answer was no.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

You frowned at his question.

"What?"

“I'm serious, I notice something different about you.”

One of his pillows landed right in his face, making him laugh. You already knew that joke too well.

“Yes, idiot, I'm pregnant.” The mattress squeaked as you lay down, only wearing your loose pants and the sports bra that had become your best friend a few days ago because it turns out that your normal bras decided they didn't want to close anymore eventually.

That was the only piece of fabric that kept your tits in place, tight and comfortable. It was also a headache for Will.

The changes that pregnancy had made in your body never ceased to amaze him even though he had analyzed each one for hours as the months passed. There was the obvious, that completely new sparkle in your eyes, your cheeks flushed 24/7 and your skin seemed to be glowing more than ever.

But on the other hand there were the things that made him fantasize about the nights he stayed on the couch fucking his own hand to try to control the impulses that attacked him more times than he would like lately. Your hips became wider, your thighs were softer but oh, his favorite part was definitely your breasts.

Round, full, hard, delicious.

You were complaining about pain recently and he didn't know if that was a sign that he should help you in some way or just not touch you and wait patiently for the pain to go away in a few weeks when the baby was born.

“Did you know…” He murmured, taking his eyes off his phone for a few seconds to look at you. You did the same.

Lying together to chat or just watch stupid videos on your phones had become routine when the pain in your back kept you from sleeping or when you took too many naps throughout the day and all your energy was reserved for the night.

Yes, Will stayed up with you each and every one of those times.

"Did I know what?"

“Did you know that there are freaks who like milk?”

You frowned.

“I like milk, what's so strange about it?”

He rolled his eyes with a small smile.

“Breast milk, I mean.”

“Oh…” Needless to say, you already knew that the father of your future baby was… peculiar. He had perfectly mastered the act of bringing up the strangest topics of conversation lately. You shrugged. “It doesn't seem that strange to me.”

"No?" If your gaze hadn't returned to your phone you would have noticed the mischievous glint on his eyes.

You had taken the bait.

“No, I mean.” There you went, to reason with the madman, always engrossed in his midnight talks. “You used to suck on my boobs all the time, do you mean you wouldn't do it anymore if there was milk involved? Not to mention that you are addicted to eating me out, it wouldn't be the first time you drink some liquid from my body.”

“Mhm.” He pretended to consider your response before nodding slowly, agreeing with you. The truth is that Will had considered the possibility since he had noticed the circular stains that suddenly began to appear on your shirts. “You have a point.”

"See?" You felt triumphant to think that you had changed his way of thinking. Your gaze returned to your phone and you took the topic for granted.

“Though I don't understand how anyone could be sexually attracted to that.”

You looked up again.

“Are you kidding?”

“Of course not, don't you think it's strange?”

You rolled your eyes, finally lowering your phone and placing it on the cabinet next to you so you could face him.

"Do you want to try?"

"What?" He played dumb and you fell into his trap again.

"Do you want to try? I will show you that there is nothing strange about it.”

He again pretended to consider your proposal and with his lower lip trapped between his teeth he nodded slowly.

"Good." He also put his phone aside, sitting up in bed as if considering which position was best to settle into. His pupils dilated when he saw you take off your top.

He had been trying for a long time not to stare at your completely naked breasts or else we wasn't going to be able to control himself anymore. Your nipples were always hard, occasionally with a drop or two of milk running through them, so sensitive and delicious.

You looked at him, clearing your throat to get his attention.

"Take off your shirt." Your voice sounded like an order.

He obediently did so. His tanned skin making your mouth water and making your cheeks blush even more than usual. You were a hormonal mess a long time ago.

“How should I…?”

“Just lay your head here.” You pointed to the hill where your pregnant belly began, just below your breasts.

“But, I don't want to hurt-”

“You're not going to hurt me, Will.” Your voice came out in frustration as you gave two small taps to the area you had pointed out before. He hesitated a little before taking his place there, the weight of his head and part of his body was not uncomfortable, on the contrary, his body heat felt stupidly good.

Skin to skin contact was something you wouldn't trade for a million dollars.

“You look so pretty like this.” You whispered in a low, loving voice. A dopey smile on your face when you had the chance to see him from a completely new angle.

His huge eyes were fixed on you, he had to look up so he could fix his gaze on you while you looked down. Your fingers gently ran through his hair, a while ago you had noticed that his curls became more noticeable when his hair was a little longer than usual.

“Go on.” You cooed while he licked his lips.

You didn't have to ask twice, Will settled into his spot and took part of your breast into his mouth, pressing his tongue against your hard, sensitive nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine, resulting in a wave of pleasure directly between your legs. A delicious heat pooling on your lower abdomen.

He for his part moaned against your skin. You tasted so sweet.

“T-That's it.” You encouraged him with blushing cheeks. “Just like that, baby.”

It didn't take him long to pick up the pace he wanted, you could hear him gulp and suck, over and over again while your trembling hands ran through his hair slowly, comforting him.

You knew how much he was enjoying it when you saw him close his eyes. A couple of drops running down the edge of his lips.

“You taste so fucking good.” It was the only thing he stammered before going back to his job. He rested the weight of his body on you a little more and you didn't complain, you missed having him on you so much, caging you against any surface that he found and his body.

He raised a hand, his fingers squeezing your breast as if he wanted to squeeze out every last drop. His cock twitched under his baggy pants and you at the same time squeezed your legs together, your slick already making your underwear wet and sticky.

“Do you like it, baby?” Your voice was breathy.

It was incredible how your bodies began to react as if you were a pair of desperate teenagers, seeking relief in any friction you might have with each other.

“Help me with t-the other one, yeah? Please?" You begged when you could finally feel some kind of relief on your tit, it was no longer hard and swollen. All this time you had only needed this? If you had known before.

He looked up with dilated pupils, licking his lips with heavy breathing.

"Please." You whispered once more, your fingers giving his hair a light tug that snapped him out of the spell you seemed to have placed on him with just a few gulps of warm milk.

You gave him a push with your hand and he obeyed, tracing exactly four circles around your right nipple before leaning down again and taking it into his mouth. Now that he was almost face down to reach the other side his hips began a slow rocking motion against the bed.

You, meanwhile, squeezed your legs together, your soft thighs giving you a bit of relief that made you whimper.

“Such a good boy.” You closed your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly, finding it impossible to calm the rhythm of your breathing. Eventually you understood that it wasn't just the sensitivity of your body, it was the situation.

Your sweet voice praising him, listening to the way he swallowed and the way he whimpered desperately just from the pleasure that sucking on your tit gave him.

You were no longer hiding the clumsy movements of your hips, nor was he the way he pretended to be fucking the mattress. His sensitive cock throbing every time he rubbed against his favorite blanket.

The friction was giving delicious warmth to his needy erection and your milk was doing the same to his entire body. Warm and delicious running through his throat.

Your thrusts were making the mattress creak under your bodies although you didn't last more than a couple of seconds longer. Abstinence was your best excuse to explain why something like this had led you to have one of the most delicious orgasms of your entire relationship.

It was definitely not what you had done per se, right?

When he pushed himself up so he could kiss you you could taste the milk and his saliva combined. You understood well why the taste had driven him crazy.

“See?” You whispered against his lips. “Not weird at all.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

[symbolofdreams]

My Shifting Routine /How I Prep for My Desired Reality (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Hi everyone! I wanted to share my shifting routine as someone with ADHD who has successfully shifted multiple times. I've been shifting for a while now, and this is what works for me:

⑅How I Prepare:

To be honest at first I didn't really care but lately I've been focusing alot on this reality since you gotta balance it out too so..If there's something distracting me, like schoolwork or just stress in general, I try to finish those tasks first and get them out of the way. I’ve noticed that when I go to bed with a clear mind, I’m way more likely to have a smooth shifting experience. If my brain is cluttered with unfinished work or stress, it makes it harder to focus on shifting, so I try to handle that first. It also helps me avoid that feeling of guilt or pressure when I'm trying to relax.

♡ Setting the Mood:

Before bedtime, I like to immerse myself in my DR as much as possible. Sometimes I’ll watch shows or read stories that remind me of my DR, or even just sit and think about it. I like to go through specific details. what the background looks like, the sounds I’d hear, the way the air would feel, even what kind of background music might be playing in certain moments. Sometimes I’ll even listen to music that fits the vibe of my DR just to get myself emotionally in that space. Getting excited about the things I’ll be doing in my DR really helps strengthen the connection and makes it feel more real (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

💤 Shifting When Sleepy:

This is probably the most important part for me. I always try to shift when I’m super sleepy because it helps me avoid overthinking. If I try to shift when I’m wide awake, my brain tends to start analyzing everything too much, and I get stuck in my head. When I’m sleepy, it’s easier to just set the intention and let it happen. I’ll tell myself that I’m already there and that I’ll wake up tomorrow in my DR, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I try not to question it or doubt it, t’s more about trusting that it’s already happening rather than trying to force it. I’ve found that when I go into it with that kind of relaxed mindset, it works out better.

✧⁠ω⁠✧My Second Successful Routine:

There was a time when I used to wake up really early like around 4 or 5 AM during a vacation. I’d go to sleep pretty late, and for some reason, my body just started waking me up at those early hours. I remember going back to sleep after waking up, and a lot of times I’d experience sleep paralysis or enter a lucid dream state, and that’s how I shifted. I think it might’ve been because I was sleeping on the floor, which made me uncomfortable and helped keep me in that half awake state. There were about three nights in a row where I shifted using this method, and it honestly felt so effortless. That early morning window was like the perfect time for me to shift. it was almost like my brain was naturally slipping into that dream like state where shifting became easier.

Another thing I noticed during that time was how I would sometimes drift in and out of sleep, and during those half conscious moments, I’d feel myself start to “slide” into my DR. I remember feeling a shift in the atmosphere and the way my senses started aligning with my DR reality. That’s why I think being in that half awake, half-asleep state works so well, it helps you stay aware enough to guide the shift, but relaxed enough to let it happen naturally.

???Why This Works for Me:

I think the reason this routine works so well is because it balances focus and relaxation. The prep work helps me stay focused on my DR, while the sleepy state helps me relax enough to let my mind actually slip into it. I’ve learned that overthinking is one of my biggest obstacles, so finding ways to quiet my mind and focus on the feeling rather than the process has really helped. Also, giving myself permission to believe that I’m already shifting (instead of constantly trying to “make it happen”) has been a game changer.

Shifting is honestly such a personal experience, and what works for me might not work for everyone, but hopefully, this gives you some ideas to try! If you have any questions or want to hear more about my shifting experiences, feel free to ask. I’d love to share more! (^-^)

[thatonewriterpleaee]

Lies and obsessions

4

Tara Carpenter x y/n female reader

Summary: you met Tara at a convenience store. Now your obsessed and jealous. Will Tara ever find out who's behind the mask? Will you ever get her heart? .Or. • . Will anger take over and you end it all? A new killer on lose. Protect them!

Warnings: sex, gore, jealousy, you're crazy.

Notes: any suggestions I will take!

♡♢♡♢♡♢♡♢♡♢♡♢♡

The TV in the dorm living room was left on again, volume low but not muted this time.

Everyone was slowly waking up, half-dressed and bleary-eyed. Chad had crashed on the couch. Mindy and Tara were seated at the breakfast bar, bowls of cereal untouched.

Y/N came out of her room, rubbing her eyes—then stopped cold.

BREAKING: STUDENT FOUND DEAD NEAR CAMPUS LIBRARY. MESSAGE LEFT ON SCENE.

The anchor’s voice was grave. “Authorities have confirmed the identity of the victim as Madison Rooks, a sophomore at Blackdale University. The crime scene included a chilling message carved into the wall above the body: You’re next.”

The screen shifted to a shaky photo.

The victim’s body lay crumpled beside a row of bookshelves—blood smeared along the concrete.

And just above her, in red—

YOU’RE NEXT.

And beneath that…

A Ghostface mask.

Not the mask.

Not Y/N’s.

A new one.

Fresh. Clean. Untouched.

⸻

Inside Dorm 203 – A Cold Silence

“No way,” Chad muttered. “There’s no way.”

Tara had gone pale. “This isn’t… this isn’t like before.”

Mindy was already pacing. “That’s not Y/N’s work. She’s been here all night. I watched her fall asleep on the couch.”

Y/N stayed quiet. Her stomach churned. Her hands clenched in her sleeves.

This wasn’t hers.

She didn’t do this.

She would’ve remembered the blood. The scream. The high.

But she had nothing.

And that scared her more than anything else.

Tara looked at her, searching her face. “You didn’t…”

“No,” Y/N said quietly. “Not this time.”

Sam stood by the window, arms crossed. “So what, there’s another one out there now?”

Mindy’s jaw tightened. “Looks like it.”

“Copycat?” Chad offered. “Someone who thinks they’re helping?”

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

No one should be helping me.

⸻

Later That Day – Panic Planning

The group sat in a tight circle in the middle of the living room. Bags already half-packed. Plans already being made.

“We go away for summer,” Sam said. “Just the six of us. Somewhere quiet.”

“A lake house?” Chad suggested.

“A rental near the mountains,” Mindy added. “With cameras. Locks. Traps if we have to.”

Tara looked at Y/N. “You’ll come, right?”

Y/N nodded slowly. “If you want me there.”

“I do.”

⸻

Outside – Alone

Y/N sat by herself behind the dorms, the distant sound of sirens fading into the air.

She was good at control.

Good at death.

Good at planning.

But this?

This was something else.

A second killer.

Someone writing their own story.

And she didn’t like sharing the spotlight.

Not with anyone.

Lake House – Midweek of Summer Break

The cabin sat by a still, quiet lake. Pine trees lined the edges like guards, whispering in the wind. Sunlight shimmered off the water, birdsong tucked into the corners of the breeze.

To anyone else, it was peace.

But not to Y/N.

From the second they arrived, she could feel it—the tension she tried to swallow, bitter on her tongue.

She watched from the kitchen window as Tara laughed, eyes lit up, running down toward the dock.

Chad followed close behind, shirt off, a towel slung over his shoulder. He splashed her with lake water, and she shrieked, playful, alive.

Too alive.

Y/N’s knuckles whitened around the mug in her hand.

She didn’t speak up when the group went swimming. Didn’t join when Tara called her name across the water, waving.

Instead, she disappeared into the forest for an hour. Let herself scream into the trees. Let herself sharpen again.

⸻

Later That Night – Lake House Upstairs

She was supposed to be sleeping.

But she heard footsteps.

Quiet, careful, crawling past her door.

Y/N waited until they were gone, then slipped out of bed and followed.

The sound led her to the basement.

And there—just barely, in the dark—she saw it:

A figure kneeling by the old storage shelves. Backpack open. Black fabric. Something sharp.

And then…

A Ghostface mask.

But not hers.

The figure turned suddenly, as if sensing her.

But Y/N had already disappeared into the dark again.

⸻

An Hour Later – Her Journal

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, journal open, pen digging into the page with barely contained rage.

There’s another Ghostface. Here. With us.

I know who it is.

She paused.

But I’m not going to kill them. Not yet.

Let them play. Let them feel brave. Let them think they’re hunting while I watch.

When we get back to campus, I’ll make an example out of them.

I’ll carve fear into their skin. Slowly. Beautifully.

She smiled faintly at the page, then tucked the journal back beneath her mattress.

⸻

The Next Morning – Dockside

Tara sat wrapped in a towel, hair damp, face glowing with post-swim peace. Chad was next to her, passing her a drink. They whispered and laughed.

Y/N watched from the tree line. Silent. Patient.

Tara looked over her shoulder.

Their eyes met.

Tara waved her over.

Y/N didn’t move.

She just smiled.

The creeking next to me stop my smile I open my eyes hearing low moans. I bit my lip getting up slowly and placing my head towards the wall to the left of me. I balled up my hands in anger I could hear taras small raspy voice and Chad’s groaning. I sigh how disgusting. Disgusting how He moans as he fucks her. Does he even claim loyalty to her? they barely hang out. She complains to Mindy about how he doesn’t pay enough attention to her.

Stupid.

How fucking annoying.

HE DOESN'T DESERVE HER!

First Day Back – Blackdale University

Campus buzzed again. Students poured in with coffee cups and overstuffed backpacks, dragging their summer behind them like shadows.

Y/N walked beside Tara, the two of them in step.

Closer now.

Tara bumped her shoulder gently. “I missed this place… weirdly.”

Y/N smiled. “Missed you.”

Tara blushed, biting back a grin. “You saw me every day at the lake house.”

“That was different. You were distracted.”

Tara gave a soft laugh but didn’t deny it. “I guess I’m not anymore.”

Their fingers brushed as they walked. Y/N felt a quiet victory bloom behind her ribs. For now.

⸻

That Night – Alone in the Art Room

Y/N had the place to herself.

The hum of campus faded as she dipped her hands into black paint, dragging it across canvas in wide, violent strokes.

The lights flickered once—then held.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

She heard the sound before she saw them.

Footsteps.

Slow.

Careful.

A shadow moved at the edge of the room.

And then… a whisper, warped through a voice-changer:

“You weren’t supposed to come back.”

Y/N smiled.

Found you.

She didn’t scream. Didn’t flinch.

Just stepped forward, the paint-stained brush still in her hand.

“Why the mask?” she said softly. “You want to be me that bad?”

The figure tensed.

“You think you’re the monster,” the voice rasped. “But you’re just the opening act.”

Y/N’s eyes glittered.

“Then let me show you how a real finale ends.”

The figure vanished—quick, practiced, gone before she could follow. But she didn’t chase them.

Because now she knew their scent. Their rhythm.

She could feel their panic under the theatrics.

They were loud.

And sloppy.

And soon… they’d be hers.

⸻

Two Days Later – Back in Dorm 203

The group was gathered again. The news blared on the TV.

“Another student found dead off-campus last night. Police believe the suspect may be a copycat tied to the previous Ghostface attacks.”

Sam stood tense by the window. “We need to tighten things up again. Check-ins. Group texts. Curfews.”

Chad added, “We don’t know who this one is… but it’s not over.”

Mindy glanced around the room—eyes narrowing slightly on Y/N.

But this time… Tara was seated next to her.

Close.

Protected.

Tara spoke up before Mindy could. “Y/N’s been with me every night this week.”

The suspicion faltered.

Y/N stayed quiet. Played her part.

Smiled like she wasn’t thinking about blood and rope and fear.

Like she wasn’t already planning everything.

⸻

That Night – Her Journal

They tried to haunt me. To be me.

But I am the storm.

They think this is a game of masks.

But when I peel theirs off, there will be nothing left.

No mercy. No theatrics. Just truth.

And blood.

Dorm 203 – Late Afternoon, Midweek

The sun dipped low through the windows, casting gold across the floor of their shared dorm. Laughter bounced through the room as Tara grabbed a pillow off the couch and hurled it toward Y/N.

It smacked her straight in the face.

“Got you!” Tara grinned, backing away fast.

Y/N blinked once… then smiled.

“You sure about that?”

She lunged forward, grabbing her own pillow with calculated speed. Tara shrieked and tried to dodge—but Y/N was fast. Too fast.

She caught Tara at the waist and spun her, the two of them crashing onto the bed in a mess of laughter and cotton.

Y/N hovered just above her, breathing shallow, a smirk playing on her lips. Tara’s heart stuttered—but not just from the fight.

“Damn,” Tara panted. “What are you, secretly training with the FBI?”

Y/N grinned, rolling off of her. “Maybe.”

⸻

A Beat Later – Something Strange

Tara sat up, her laughter fading as she caught a glimpse of Y/N’s back.

The loose hoodie had slipped during the fight.

Scars.

Faint—but visible in the sunlight.

Thin, jagged, some healed well, others not at all. Like something old. Something violent.

Tara’s breath caught.

She didn’t say anything—just quickly looked away as Y/N adjusted the hoodie back over her shoulders.

“Nice moves,” Chad called from the kitchen. “But bet you can’t take me.”

Y/N didn’t even hesitate. “Wanna try?”

Chad laughed and rushed her—but before anyone could react, Y/N twisted, sidestepped, and had him pinned flat to the couch with one arm across his chest.

“Okay—okay! You win, psycho!” he coughed out, winded.

Everyone laughed.

Tara didn’t.

She smiled—but it didn’t reach her eyes.

⸻

That Night – Tara’s Journal (Hidden in Her Drawer)

There were scars.

Real ones. Like something happened a long time ago.

She’s strong—really strong. Like trained. Like she’s done this before.

I don’t want to be suspicious.

But something isn’t right.

She doesn’t move like us. She doesn’t think like us.

⸻

Meanwhile – Y/N, Alone in the Shower

The water ran red as she washed the paint off her hands from class. Only… some of it wasn’t paint.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tile, smiling to herself.

She’d felt Tara’s heartbeat today.

Felt the shiver in her breath beneath her.

Close. Almost too close.

But not yet.

The copycat was still out there.

And soon?

They’d learn what real pain felt like.

One scar at a time.

10:03 PM – Dorm 203

The rain started softly outside the window. Tara sat at her desk, her laptop screen the only glow in the room. Y/N had gone out twenty minutes earlier, claiming she was “just craving something greasy.”

“Pizza run,” she’d smiled. “Back soon.”

Tara nodded, but her gut twisted.

Now, alone, she searched.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for exactly—maybe some proof that her instincts weren’t crazy. That those scars, that strength, that look in Y/N’s eyes weren’t part of something darker.

She typed in the full name she’d caught earlier—stolen from a school file.

Y/N Bill Macher.

Enter.

Silence.

Then—

A match.

‘Bill Macher – Cousin of Billy Loomis. Changed name after foster placement. Moved across multiple states post-incident. Closed juvenile record. Possible sealed psychiatric file.’

Tara’s breath hitched.

Macher.

Not just a name. A legacy.

Like Sam.

Except… worse?

She stared at the screen, hands trembling slightly. She could feel the memory of the pillow fight just hours ago. The laughter. The warmth. That look in Y/N’s eyes when Tara touched her shoulder…

Could she be like Sam?

Could she choose to be good?

Or was it already too late?

⸻

10:17 PM – Abandoned Gym Just Off Campus

The false Ghostface gasped, blood slick on the floor beneath him, hands trembling as he tried to crawl.

Y/N stepped over him slowly.

Elegant. Cold.

“You’re a parasite,” she whispered, tilting her head. “A leech sucking off my story.”

The man tried to speak, but she slammed her boot down on his hand.

Crack.

“Shhh,” she cooed. “It’s my turn.”

He looked up—and saw her mask.

Not Ghostface.

Something worse.

Painted black, stitched with wire. Her own face of fear.

She strung him up in silence—like art.

Hung him from the gym’s metal bars. A blade still buried in his gut. Slumped, twisted, pathetic.

On his chest: a bloodstained note.

“I AM THE ONLY TRUE KILLER.”

She exhaled.

Then calmly wiped her gloves, removed her gear, and changed into the hoodie she’d brought. She checked the mirror. No blood. Just a girl going out for a late-night bite.

She stopped at the pizza shop two blocks down. Ordered a small pepperoni. Smiled at the clerk.

Normal.

Innocent.

Perfect.

⸻

10:54 PM – Dorm 203

Tara looked up when the door opened. Her heart jumped—but her face stayed composed.

Y/N walked in, holding the pizza box with a grin.

“You better still be awake,” she teased. “Because I brought this for you.”

Tara forced a smile. “You’re sweet.”

Y/N plopped the box on the table and kicked off her shoes, then collapsed next to her.

“You okay?” Y/N asked softly. “You look… tense.”

Tara paused.

Looked at her.

Really looked.

Then she said:

“Yeah. Just… bad dreams.”

Y/N leaned in close, voice low. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Tara nodded.

But her eyes lingered on Y/N’s hands.

Still trembling.

[soundsandnoises]

GREEN DAY with MAID OF ACE and NOTHING BUT THIEVES. Wembley Stadium, London. 29/06/24

4:10 AM I take a photo in front of the mighty Wembley Stadium, sky above is becoming more blue with each second, blue hour is losing its grip before sunrise... In my mind gloomy scenarios tell me there will be so many people waiting in a queue... Within five minutes I reach the Yellow Zone, assigned entrance. One look at the people there and it's actually not so bad. Can't be more than twenty - thirty people ahead of me, can't tell for sure: most is wrapped in all sorts of cocoons and/or burritos (blankets, duvets, sleeping bags) with a small tent marking the beginning of the queue. Some are awake, polite greetings are exchanged and before I know it there's a full on, easy-going conversation happening, rather cheerful mood at the quite ungodly hour. It's established that we're sort of left in a limbo: the person responsible for numbering the fans is fast asleep, so the waiting is a bit on edge. The usual: toilet, food, coffee questions appear. Too early to tell, too early to be opened, too soon to go – especially without the number that would ease up the mind, that things can go according to plan in such a massive event. People show up, relieved that the ones already waiting are not a mass amount,VIPs and front pitch standing co-exist cordially, blended until separated by the security. Time passes surprisingly quickly. People wake up, chat, wander. My coffee craving is satisfied. I'm half-awake, half-terrified of the vastness of the stadium. I can do it. Information float, some true, some false – everyone just needs to know the amount of VIPs, so they can assess if there's even a slight chance to get to the front, if it actually pay of to be there as early as afternoon the day before (or maybe earlier). Time goes. Sun lurks from behind the stadium, while we count our blessings that it's dry and relatively warm. We won't know what hit us. Soon enough the sun is out in its full glory, concrete elevating the temperature, crowd – mostly clad in black begins to roast. Sunscreens are involved, the anticipation and tension go head to head. Pressure is high as the temperature of the air. It's so lovely the toilets are available, it's so lovely you can roam freely to shops so you can quench the thirst coming at you like Sahara's sandstorm. I can do this. Somehow. Things will go according to plan. Maybe. The entry points are turnstiles, there is a reader for the ticket next to each of them. What can possible go wrong? So what's the amount of the VIPs again? It's multiplying. They go, we stay behind, deflated a bit, defeated. It goes the way it goes, inside the stadium, but not there yet, people are mad, screwed, squeezed and frustrated, security leads the way – wanted to get to the right side? Tough. They led to the left. Decisions, decisions, decisions: far left at the barrier or second/ third row in the middle. I have become comfortable: I choose survival. The view could be better, the massive speaker scares the crap out of me, will the earplugs save me this time? But, but... I'm here. I made it.

MADE OF ACE rip through the sticky summer air with their gritty punk rock sound like seesaw through the block of wood. The wall of sound coming at me from the speaker takes some getting used to. My first thought is: if that's so loud I am royally screwed when Green Day starts. But, I'm going to worry about it later. I nod along to the rhythm, watching four sisters warming up Wembley Stadium for main act. The crowd seems to be favourable. Good. It's rough, it's unapologetic and raw and girls are not taking any prisoners. It's a great start.

I am more than excited for NOTHING BUT THIEVES, yet worried a bit – it's such a different vibe from the opening act. But fans are strong with this one. Conor's voice soars through the air, the band is perfectly synced and they are so ready for it, to conquer it. Their rock music with electronic and pop twists bursts in intriguing key changes and rhythms to dance to [like nobody's watching]. They're unique, aiming high and delivering such a great and entertaining show I wish it could last a little bit longer.

I might be far from others making sure the band gets warm welcome, but I surely am having fun. Until the waterworks start, that is. 'Sorry' makes my eyes fill with tears, even though seconds before I was just joyfully screaming my lungs out to 'Welcome to DCC' and 'Trip Switch' (I was really looking forward to hear the latter, since it didn't make the setlist in Cardiff Castle and it's such a great song to turn lukewarm crowd into red hot – not that it was lukewarm in Wembley, cause it seemed rather great and responsive). As if it wasn't enough 'Overcome' completely breaks me. All the feelings. Funny sensation in my throat, eyes sting, tears roll through my cheeks and it's so exhilarating. I really want to believe the words: 'we shall overcome, as we've done before'.

A little game of hide and seek: Tré's drums are wrapped in black fabric. At first I don't think much of it, but when someone checks the drums [again] and I see amused face of crew member standing at the back it clicks. The cheers coming from the crowd closer to the centre adds to my curiosity. Suspicions are confirmed as soon as I catch the glimpse of blue hair behind the black wrap. Tré plays for a bit, checks a thing or two and leaves sneakily as fans cheer from joy. Pumped up much? Here comes the Bunny. Man, that furry has seen some better days. The only thing that seems to be clean, the person under the Bunny suit is wearing, are white gloves. But who cares. Rock ain't a clean game, it's gritty, dirty and so much fun. The demented mascot cranks it up with some antics onstage getting the crowd to cheer, howl from laughter and making sure fans are so ready for it before he's 'forcibly' pulled from stage. It might be a same, old act, but it's so good to see it. Here we go!

First tunes of 'The American Dream is Killing Me' make the crowd erupt with joy, even though relatively new compared to songs from 'Dookie' and 'American Idiot' it receives the welcome it deserves and it is so on!

Like bullets sprayed from the machine gun songs from 'Dookie' are spitting out from the stage. Hit and scream. Louder, faster. I am having a blast [pun so inteded!]. Few songs in, the girl behind me laughs 'my watch thinks I'm working out!'Oh, sister, yes we are: let's jump together, clap those hands and scream the lyrics like there's no tomorrow, like it hasn't been 30 years from 'Dookie''s release. 'Welcome to Paradise' is pure gold and the crowd is red hot, emotions are bubling on the surface, happiness is so tangible it's just glorious. Everyone's a basket case when 'Basket Case' starts and madness prevails to the very last note of it. But hey, all the best people are mad, aren't they? Normal is boring and there's nothing normal about Green Day ruling the crowd with sing alongs, “ooohs” and waving and jumping. There comes 'She' and there's no settling, Billie Joe's son Jacob takes over playing guitar and he's father's so amused, and so proud, too. Crowd is overjoyed to say the least. As the song finishes Billie Joe announces: 'My son, Jacob, you guy's made him shit his pants!' When you think about it – it's insane to share the stage with his dad, with Green Day and play in front of nearly 80 000 people, so... Kinda cool. Pace is murderous, but fun is spreading like a catastrophic contagion, there's no escape. It's intense, so intense that people go down and because Green Day is punk, but it's there for their fans the show stops until people are safe and taken care of which results in devoted applause from the crowd and then another one when Billie reminds everyone that at Green Day shows when someone goes down, we pick 'em up, we take care of each other. All is love and rock and roll. The show starts and goes like a sports car engine, from zero to whatever high speed, within seconds. Here we go again [Mamma Mia! No wait, wrong show, still fun is fun].

Also there's no Green Day show without some comedy stand-up of sorts, or shall I say: Tré being well, Tré. 'All By Myself' is as bonkers as it has always been as GD's drummer struts his stuff in leopard printed dressing gown, teasing and tempting. Perfect finish of 'Dookie' celebration.

The middle part of the show, it would be unfair to call it an intermission, really, is filled with shenanigans. Obviously. 'Know You Enemy' is known to be the bit when a fan is invited onstage. For a second there, I thought the plan has changed, but no. I am beyond excited to see Venetia, who I've met at another concert and who was the first person in our queue, to get the chance to belt out the lines of the song and then take a dive onto the crowd (and getting a shout out from Billie for such an impressive crowd surf, he laughed that she had to the front from all the way back).

What else? Well, imagine the whole stadium chanting the intro to Black Sabbath's 'Iron Man' – epic!

And then Jesus of Suburbia takes the residence and makes himself rather comfortable at the Wembley Stadium. The dusk is upon the crowd, but it seemed that it is an incentive to shine brighter, to scream louder. 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' takes me by surprise. Not the fact that I don't know it, or that I don't know it is coming, since tracklist isn't a surprise.

'(…) My shadow's only one that walks beside, my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating...'

In that moment an empty shell that used to be my heart becomes somewhat alive. A phantom is beating out of time. My eyes start to sting again, throat squeezed from the funny feeling as I choke on words I scream: 'Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me, 'Til then I walk alone.' Tears roll through my face as sadness takes over, as I let it all out and let it go. The sensation lingers [understandably] over 'Are We the Waiting', I'm sure not only for me. There is something special going on during that show, that moment. Thousands of lights lighting up the stadium, flickering, poignant and vulnerable (but on the other hand – another incident occurred and 'Boulevard' has to be stopped and restarted due to injury in the crowd/someone fainting and Billie making sure they are helped).

'Wake Me Up When September Ends' always has been a powerful song to me, special to so many no doubt. I'm sure many have personal connection to the lyrics, to the way this song makes them feel. The day of Green Day's concert it would have been my mom's birthday. But cancer takes and shatters lives. So many years have passed and yet 'as my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost, wake me up when September ends.' In the fragility of the moment I fall apart there and then, trying very hard to console myself enough to carry on and soak the good energy coming from the stage.

Because I am truly having the time of my life there. Reconnecting with my younger self, full of hope and feeling happy, if only for a while.

I'm sure this feeling is something that dawned over so many during this show, whilst it blew minds of the ones seeing Green Day for the first time, because it was really magnificent with fireworks, floating airplane, colourful confetti, the pyro so strong I was wondering if my hair would burn. The strength of a singalong from the throats of 75 000 people. The pure joy or rock and roll, words gaining meaning and meaning so much to so many.

'So take the photographs and still frames in your mind, hang it on a shelf in good health and good time […] For what's it worth it was worth all the while. […] I hope you had a time of your life'

I surely did. Green Day's milestones were universal and personal at the same time. It was a celebration. And I have a drumstick to prove! And yes, I am aware there were many of them thrown towards the crowd (Tré threw a bucket of them and bunch of confetti, and then a bunch of confetti on Billie, who stood there stunned, taking it all in, moved by the response and devotions of Green Day fans), but I fought for mine and I got it despite my butter fingers, so there. Green Day are absolute legends and they know how to entertain, please, tease and command the crowd and Wembley Stadium was a fitting place for them to finish UK tour. You had to be there.

The photo I take after the gig: nose is red from all the crying, eyes are tired, I'm clutching the drumstick like my life depends on it. I am happy, I promise. Or I was. But it's over now.

But I can't help to think that Green Day's music shaped me, comforted me: Twenty years ago I went to their show and it blew my mind, it being the first show I paid for with hard earned money or hard saved it was definitely special. Naïve, as I was back then, I remember strolling towards the venue around early afternoon and being shocked by the winding queue. And then fighting for survival inside while trying to sing what I could remember, taking crappy photos with my crappy phone camera/compact camera (some things don't change, but that's a different story. My friend back then peeled off the poster announcing the show, one of my most cherished mementos, still somewhere boxed in my old stuff. Green Day are heroes. Forever etched in my broken heart.

Setlist:

Intro:

Bohemian Rhapsody/ Blitzkrieg Bop/ Intro theme ("We Will Rock You", "I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll", “The Imperial March")

The American Dream Is Killing Me

DOOKIE:

Burnout

Having a Blast

Chump

Longview

Welcome to Paradise

Pulling Teeth

Basket Case

She (with Jacob Danger Armstrong)

Sassafras Roots

When I Come Around

Coming Clean

Emenius Sleepus

In The End

F.O.D.

All By Myself

Know Your Enemy

Look Ma, No Brains!

One Eyes Bastard

Dilemma

Minority

Brain Stew

AMERICAN IDIOT:

American Idiot

Jesus of Suburbia

Holiday

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Are We the Waiting

St. Jimmy

Give Me Novacaine

She's a Rebel

Extraordinary Girl

Letterbomb

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Homecoming

Whatsername

Bobby Sox

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)

[nathank77]

12/25/24

6:53 a.m

So I did fall asleep pretty quickly.. but I woke up at 4 a.m and I couldn't fall back to asleep. I took 25mg of benadryl... and ate a protein bar and laid there with my eyes closed until about 6:20 a.m and I just had to give up.

My alarms go off at 7:30 a.m. I've been slowly lower then to the 7 a.m mark bc if I don't kill myself i want to be ready for daylight savings...

But i couldn't tolerate keeping my eyes closed any longer. And the nicotine withdrawal started to get bad after a hour of not being able to sleep by 2 hours I was done. I refuse to enable myself and take a little more xanax when I wake up bc my stupid useless brain can't fall back to sleep. Then it'll just be like, "hey if I wake up and don't fall back asleep he will take more xanax." I won't fucking enable myself like that. Worse case if I can't fall asleep initially I may take more xanax..... but that's only at night... and only after significant effort. And only if I didn't take a 1mg 2 nights in a row. Cause in that case we are pulling a fucking all nighter.

So I'm miserable. At best i got 5 hours of sleep. I feel dead. Today is going to be worse than it originally was going to be bc I'm sleep deprived and depressed..

I was thinking about everything my sister said. Like about moving out and leaving mom and me without a house. And how she won't have a Kenny. I already knew all of this. But it circled.

I was thinking about what i bring to the table to get a gf which is nothing as my sister and liv attacked me in the car and made me feel worthless. Once again I knew all of this stuff... I think it all the time.

I was thinking about Riley and how all I want for Christmas is to rehome her and give her a better life. I was thinking about how idc if they got me a ps5 and silent hill 2... I think they did but I dont want it. I want Riley to go away so I'm not as crippled by my ocd as I am and I can go back to how I was before she came here.

I was thinking about how I got a dirty Riley hair on my hoodie and I had to change my hoodie last night bc everytime I touched where it was i was going to have anxiety and have to wash my hands once in cold water and once in hot water.

I mean now I'm going to be operating on 5 hours of sleep and that's me being positive... and have to sit in a camp chair while Riley sits in the crate just to spend time with my mother today and now we are going to my dad's at 3 p.m... and we will get home late and how fucking exhausting it is to show up for everyone.

And it didn't matter if I thought I'll stay home instead of going to dad's. Or if I thought i will stay in room and only go to dad's. None of that made my anxiety any better.

I was thinking about my dad bringing up how I should work just bc I'm waking up earlier. And how i can't explain how disabled I am to him over one dog hair. How no one cares or understands.

I hate Christmas. I hate holidays. People think money makes up for shit. All I want is Riley to go to another house. For my ocd to go back to what it was. And that's really it.

I'm not getting my hearing aids fitted. I'm canceling so I stand some chance at getting a gf.

And tbh I might take that trip for January 1st. I'm never going to be a father or husband or a grandpa.

I don't want to make it to 34 and look back to my life and how far I've come. I should have an apartment. I should have a job. I should have a gf. I should be married i should have kids..

I shouldn't be living with my mommy freaking out about a dog hair on my hoodie.

Also I had a cigarette when I woke up bc of withdrawal so today will be extra fun if I try to stay at 3 cigarettes in total...... idk how I'm supposed to stay at 3 cigarettes a day on a day like today and how I'm supposed to even afford 3 cigarettes a day without going to new Hampshire.

I mean I managed 3 cigarettes yesterday...but i also got a full night of sleep... so yea..

Either way I really want to kill myself. Idc about endless opportunities..I'm stuck in my box. I'm not getting out of it. No one is going to date a deadbeat loser "hey but at least I'll have abs."

[uniformbravo]

it's nanowrimo & i havent touched my wip since last year so im gonna reread it all rn to jog my memory lets goooo

-

"And so, class, as you can see, blah blah blah…"

Silan wasn't listening, so neither should you have to.

i didn't know how to start it skjfdkngkf

-

goes on for several paragraphs about why he wasnt paying attention, making up a bunch of bullshit about him being sooooo sleeby bc he watched a horror movie last night & then couldn't sleep, fascinating stuff

-

So no, he wasn't listening to the lesson going on at the front of the room, nor was he prepared in the very least to be called on suddenly.

"Silan, what's your answer to number fifteen?"

Like a bucket of ice water was sitting upright on the ground beside him instead of upturned over his head, Silan's brain fog persisted as he struggled to catch up with the moment.

ok fine the ice bucket line is kinda funny im here to subvert ur expectations not unlike a mime thats allowed to say fuck

-

"Y equals seven…?" he guessed, understanding completely as he said it that it definitely would have been better to just say "I don't know," or "Could you repeat that?" or even "Sorry, I didn't sleep well because I watched a horror movie before bed and was too scared to fall asleep for hours and now I can't focus because I'm so tired, so I honestly have no idea what's going on right now."

As it was, his actual answer garnered a few laughs scattered around the room, from people who'd given Silan way too much credit and assumed it was a very intentional joke. He couldn't look his teacher in the eye, that knowing gaze piercing right through him as if to say, "You may have fooled them, but not me. I know that was a real attempt at an answer, and I am disappointed in you on multiple levels. I'll see you in my office and also you have detention forever."

What he actually said was, "Mr. Scott, this is a Biology class."

CHRIST i take it back im a comedic genius

-

Chris is A Dude in Silan's class, but he's so much more than that; sports ball player man, wearer of varsity jackets and knee-length shorts of all varieties, copier of his friends' homework whenever one of them has actually done it on time… He truly is just Some Guy, but to Silan? He is The Guy.

WHAT are u fuckin TALKING ABOUT HELLO

-

If Silan himself were to be the one to describe Chris, that paragraph would have probably gone a lot more like: Chris is on the baseball team, so he's fairly muscular; he has a sharp, square jaw and dark brown hair that's not quite long enough to submit to gravity just yet, so it sticks up and looks just sooo fluffy and soft (do you think he lets anyone touch it?). He's never actually grown a beard but he does have stubble across his chin and jaw that suits him extremely well. His eyes are brown and his skin is a natural tan and it all suits him perfectly and he's hot okay. He's hot.

Silan is gay.

and he is being sooo normal about chris

-

They'd only ever spoken a total of two times; once when Chris had gotten the rows confused on a day he'd seemed particularly groggy (this class ran from 10:45 to 12:15 and was the one right before lunch, though, so it was beyond Silan what exactly had put him in such a state) ((I'm the author though, so I know exactly what it was, and it's that he'd been out nearly all night with his friends to the subsequent dismay and rage of his parents, and his request to stay home from school the next day was vehemently denied)),

this is fucking unhinged. publish me right now

-

That had been just a few weeks ago; the other time was last year (junior year, or 11th grade, or year 3 out of 4 of high school, whatever makes the most sense to those unacquainted with the American school system) in April and I will tell you more about it later.

FUCKING HELLO

-

It was the urge to doodle their initials in a heart together in the margins of his notebook like… like some kind of lovesick middle schooler (not that. He'd ever done that. In middle school,).

silan would never

-

The combination made him want to launch himself directly out the window, had one existed (the only windows were over by the door, which Silan sat pretty much across the room from).

He was kinda fucked.

tfw u cant throw urself out the window bc of ur school's evil fucked up floor plan

-

Rhoden, while still fairly small for his age, definitely isn't the same kid Silan met back then. There's a maturity to his jaw, his brow, that he's really come into since, and his voice has deepened considerably; anyone who might still initially mistake him for a much younger boy would be instantly enlightened the second he opened his mouth. And then they'd have to figure out how to politely decline a spontaneous interview proposal from a guy they'd thought was twelve two seconds ago.

when u get within a certain radius of him a giant health bar appears at the top of the screen & boss music starts playing

-

Today, though, was a photography day.

They were always Silan's favorites. He did enjoy his other tasks, in general, but none of them were as fun or freeing as photography.

It made him look at the world around him differently. Taking such a wide expanse of possibility and narrowing it down to that one perfect shot; knowing where to look and how to find potential. It was capturing a moment, but not just that; it was turning a moment, even the smallest, mundanest occurrence, into something timeless- into something special.

(And, of course, there were other perks to the job, but we'll get to those later.)

i am 100% certain said "perks" are getting to Observe chris at baseball practice which is a very funny juxtaposition to the previous paragraph

"photography is a timeless art form, truly nothing as magical or poignant could ever exist.... also i get to look at hot boys cha-CHING"

-

"Silan," she called out now in lieu of a team name, since the work of a photographer was mostly individual.

"I'm, uh, shooting baseball practice today."

😏

-

A few short minutes later, Silan was signing off for the club's camera, which he needed permission for every time. This was one of Mrs. Springet's few roles as an advisor, to make sure the camera wasn't being stolen. It was a nice camera, to be fair.

Oh To Steal The Journalism Club's Nice Camera

-

While Chaulden High did have a football team, the undisputed star of the show was the baseball team; with a coach that led them to victory time and time again, it wasn't hard to see why.

As such, the New Moon always made sure to leave room for a section on the team, even going as far as establishing a series they ran every year called "Dug-Ins & Outs," in which various members of the team were interviewed.

ok still proud of that title TBH

-

Which meant Silan was often sent to obtain shots of the team, which was no problem. Less than no problem. He was pretty fine with it, actually. Perhaps even looked forward to it, some might say.

Because Silan was definitely interested in the team, as a whole, all twenty-six members. All of them, and not a single one more than the rest. He would never single a specific member out to accidentally focus 90% of his attention on. That would be ridiculous, and highly unprofessional of him. Perish the thought.

…

So uh. Chris is on the baseball team,

cups hands around mouth fucken NERD

-

The coach, Mr. Wendell, stood with a clipboard tucked under his arm by the dugout, clapping and calling out to members who were lagging behind in the group of joggers. He always made Silan nervous, if he were honest. He was something of a hardass, with high expectations for his team and a grueling training regimen he held them all to. He had a loud voice and a firm handshake, was broad shouldered and tall, and if Silan weren't so intimidated by him he might even find him [REDACTED].

OK ALRIGHT CALM DOWN THERE BUDDY

-

CRASH!

Just as he clicked the shutter the chain-link fence behind him exploded into sound and he jumped violently, sending all of the birds flying. Heart pounding, he sat up and turned around to figure out what the hell that was.

On the other side of the fence was one of the team members leaning down to scoop up the offending ball as the coach's voice echoed across the field, "Stop fucking around, Neely!"

fucking Neely

-

It took him a good five or six more minutes to calm down, sitting there in the grass and pretending to flip through photos on his camera. This time he made sure to face the fence to avoid a repeat scenario- because of course, Silan was known to have the reflexes of a tiger and wouldn't even flinch were another ball to come hurling at the fence.

jotting this down in my Extremely True Silan Facts notebook

-

He sat on the very top row and zoomed in on the players, scattered across the field. The fence still sat between him and the rest of them, reaching high for maximum audience-shielding ability, so he decided to see how many of the players' heads he could frame perfectly within the open links in a single shot.

His average came out to about four, mostly because it was basically impossible to keep track of any more than that at once, but he did manage to get one with six on accident, so that was pretty neat. It didn't help that they were all constantly moving around- Silan probably would have had more luck trying this with the birds.

He spent about another twenty minutes doing this, occasionally moving to other parts of the bleachers for different angles to see if they made any difference (they didn't; the lower he went the wider the holes got but also the closer together the player's heads became, so it balanced out), before the main event, as far as he was concerned, finally began: batting.

silan: boy oh boy i can't wait to take pictures of the baseball team!!!

also silan: does this bullshit

-

Everyone knew baseball players looked coolest and most iconic when at bat, and anyone who disagreed was simply wrong (second best was pitching, third was sliding). Silan's opinion on this was in no way swayed by visuals of Chris that may or may not have been burned into his memory.

Evidence:

[three pictures of a batter, a pitcher, and a sliding athlete respectively side-by-side, the batter obviously being the coolest most hyped up one with dynamic lighting and stuff, whereas the pitcher and the slider are intentionally lame, like cheap-looking clip art or pictures where they're making really ugly faces]

im gonna lose my fuckin shit (no theres no actual pictures this was just a place holder for when i eventually found & inserted them which i was absolutely planning on doing)

-

He stayed on the other side of the fence, lest a stray ball hit him (or worse, the camera)

TRU

-

He was tall (he had several inches on Silan and a good few on Chris), and he was slender and lean and really quite handsome in general. His thick, curly black hair was neatly shaved close to his head and the corners of his jaw were pleasantly pronounced.

Not that Silan could see any of that from this distance, especially with the helmet obscuring most of it. But as a member of the newspaper club these were things he had to know. For professional reasons.

i believe him

-

He should have been adjusting his position to line up the perfect shot, but it was hard not to watch as Chris rose up on one foot, twisting his torso with his arms raised and clutching the ball- then sprung into action by slamming his foot back down into the dirt and following the momentum with his upper body, arm arcing into a powerful throw. A split second after Silan saw the ball hit the backboard he heard the noise, a loud, solid smack!

God. God.

SCREAMS ALRIGHT SILAN CALM DOWN FKFSKGNKSDJFKD

-

"Make sure you're getting my good side, yeah?" He joked, grinning and striking a stupid pose.

silan watching chris: beautiful. flawless. show stopping. groundbreaking. so so hot and sexy hehehauhaoehemeheuenana

silan watching lucas: clown ass motherfucker striking his goofy ass POSE what an idiot 000/10

-

"Yo," Devon greeted as he pulled himself to his feet, flashing his hand in a pseudo wave.

"H-hi," Silan answered haltingly, heart beating a little fast from the maneuver he'd just had to pull. Devon offered what Silan could only describe as a dashing grin before turning his attention back towards home.

hee hee hee hiiiiiii devonnnn *twirls hair* (silan impression)

-

They rarely talked but Devon had always come off as a nice guy with a friendly vibe. He'd certainly never referred to the newspaper club as Mooners- not that Silan had heard, anyway. Though it wouldn't be such a big deal if he did, since the nickname was pretty widespread at this point. But it was nice that he didn't.

Also, he really was quite handsome.

this would have been a very different story had silan gone for devon instead of chris, devon would NEVER pull the shit chris is about to pull in this story fksndkjfdkjg he doesn't even call them mooners 😭

(school newspaper is called the new moon so people call the club members new mooners, an extremely clever & funny joke that i came up with myself)

-

(ok context, silan was gonna take a pic of chris sliding (the team's doing this whole exercise where they alternate from pitching to hitting to sliding) but bc he was so focused on getting the shot he didn't realize the ball was headed right for him so chris collided w him trying to intercept it)

Silan turned around, seeing the coach standing with his arms crossed as Chris examined his elbow. He looked up when Silan moved.

"Thank Christ. That was stupid as hell, you both could've gotten way more hurt." He hadn't even checked if Silan had been injured. "Jumping over another guy like that. We're not a goddamn gymnastics routine."

"But I caught the ball," Chris grinned, holding it up and waggling it around. Silan immediately had to stop himself from asking if he could have it.

LMAO SILAN???????????? DOWN SO FUCKING BAD

-

As he walked off herding the team away, Chris stepped closer to Silan, instantly setting his heartbeat into overdrive, more than it already was.

"Your shoulder okay?" he asked with a gesture towards the shoulder in question, and Silan just about passed away on the spot.

when he checks if ur ok after he ran u the fuck over 😍😍😍

-

Then he looked to the left, in the direction Chris had tossed the ball just a minute ago, at the spot in the grass it had rolled to a stop.

The backboard of the catcher's box announced another missed swing, and Silan picked up the ball, examining it.

The object that had ruined his perfect shot. That had come careening directly towards Silan's head (or worse, the camera). That had resulted in the disastrous collision and subsequent injuries of Chris and Silan. That had wasted precious minutes of Coach Wendell's perfectly scheduled practice regimen.

He tucked it neatly away into his hoodie's front pocket and took a seat on the grass right where it had been.

STOLE THE FUCKING BASEBALL this is unhinged behavior and also exactly the kinda shit i would've pulled in high school 10/10

---

uhhhhhh that was chapter 1 and i feel i should perhaps stop here for now since this is getting like way longer than i thought it would lfksndlfmdkgj the whole thing is like. 30k ish words? i feel like i wrote about 3 or 4 chapters

i like. shoulda done this shit a few days ago so i could start writing again today (the 1st) but i was too busy drawing heehee uhhh whoopsieee >w<

its ok its fine this year i will make it to 50k easy peasy dont even worry abt it ;3 i will definitely not go back to drawing today that would be sooooooo silly and goofy of me hahaha :)

[emptymanuscript]

Stressing that this all based on things I vaguely remember hearing from other people and I have no actual scientific background, I just like to listen to people who do while paying imperfect attention:

Natural Circadian rhythm is significantly longer than 24 hours if I recall correctly. That's why being on the internet in bed is bad for you. Because your body uses light to reset your internal clock to the correct time. The blue light wavelengths on our screen is what our body uses to cue itself that it is daytime and so we shouldn't be tired.

Naturally, we get those same wavelengths from sunlight. So every time the sun comes up, it resets our circadian rhythm. As this repeats ad nauseum we get in the habit of just thinking of our rhythm actually being 24 hours but take away the cues and the results show it isn't.

We stay up later than we should with our screens. And if you take away the cues we start to shift on our cycle. Take away all cues. Such as no change in light source or intensity, and we start to go on our natural circadian rhythm.

Again, if I remember correctly, the natural rhythm is approximately 36 hours. It's not perfect. You slide a little bit as you adjust but you'll eventually completely decouple from the 24 hour day. I also believe I recall that the 36 hour day without light cues is fairly normal for most mammals. But less sure about that.

Which means, again assuming I haven't diverged from the facts, that any amount of natural light that can reset us should work, so long as it grants us enough time to get the sleep we need and so long as it doesn't exceed the actual circadian rhythm.

I don't think we could adjust terribly well to anything shorter than an 8 hour cycle, 4 hours asleep, 4 hours awake. And we'd probably break somewhere around the 35 hour mark because of the limit of the cycle. And that is quite a restriction given the natural variances. There's also not a guarantee that the particular wavelengths of light of a particular star would cue us, even if the timing was right. I know it is a decent range, not just one particular wavelength, but it is still specific wavelengths. So the wrong color star might limit us as much as the rotation of the planet.

However we could certainly make artificial cues very easily. We already do. A good seal on window light and a good artificial light will knock you off the daylight clock very easily. Back when I lived alone it usually took me about a month to slip into sleeping from about 8 am to about 5pm because of so little real light creeping in to my perceptions. And it would take me maybe two to three weeks to purposefully reset onto the real world clock so I could get to stores when they were open.

We also already use plenty of drugs to alter the cycle. A little caffeine can go a long way. So maybe that could push us over.

I have no idea about bioengineering. I assume it is absolutely possible withing some range, I just don't know what needs changing or how much. I would assume you would need to bioengineer it if you hit a world with less than a three hour night. I think I recall reading that less than two full sleep cycles (3 hours = 180 minutes = 2 x 90 minutes for a full sleep cycle) is extremely deleterious to human health if it happens too often in a row. I'd suspect we need more. But 8 hours isn't true at the high end. It depends a lot on the person and their age. Younger people TEND to need more sleep than people 30 and older. And I wanna say around 60 or so, the amount of sleep you need (at least at a single time) reduces again if you have ideal health. Something like that. Poor health and overwork drive the need for sleep up, so the night would need to be longer depending on the lives of the colonists.

Given enough time, we should be able to adapt to anything. But how much time I am also not sure about. I have heard that there is a minimum and maximum amount of safe mutation, measured in generations. I do not remember what they are though. Just that more mutation than the minimum and the species will die out / mutate out of existence, and that at the maximum the species will have mutated anyway without selection pressure because there does seem to be some kind of clock built in, in some way that we don't quite understand yet. Or at least not anyone who gets on to talk to laypeople like myself. But I don't think either side is a convenient number. I'm fairly certain that the minimum is more than one and that the maximum is simply not a reasonable time frame with as long as human generations are. Still, with bioengineering, good old fashioned mechanical engineering, and drugs we shouldn't have to be stuck with those limits. And there are hormonal epigenetics, too, maybe we're lucky in this case and how much sleep you need might need might be affected by that. Don't have any actual idea though.

Most of what I've been hearing lately is support for the rare Earth hypothesis, that we might actually not find a lot of suitable planets for ourselves. But everyone is also carefully hedging their bets. So, who knows. Even if it doesn't explain why we don't see anybody, it might still limit us to where we could settle.

We would probably want to get fairly close just to make it easier and to avoid the temperature and weather problems of significantly different rotational and orbital speeds. But I know even less about that.

So, something I'm really curious about with regards to circadian rhythms:

Humans (not sure about other animals) can usually adjust to cycles that are close to 24 hours. I think I remember reading about three hours either way? I'm not 100% sure, I could be mistaken on this (or possibly even remembering outdated research). But at any rate, not too terribly far from 24 hours

So, suppose that we do actually manage to achieve interstellar travel and settle new planets. It's quite likely that there'll be planets that are pretty suitable to humans, except that their rotational period is not very close to Earth's. For example, you might have a planet with, say, an 18-hour day, or a 30-hour day, or whatever. An otherwise perfect planet that just doesn't work with our sleep cycles

Could we adjust to that? Like, maybe the initial colonists would be stuck in a kind of permanent jetlag, but what about their children, born after landing? Do we have any idea how flexible an infant's circadian rhythm would be? Would an infant raised in an 18-hour day naturally develop an 18-hour circadian rhythm? Or would they still be stuck with their ancestors' 24-hour period? For that matter, do we even know for sure that adults wouldn't be able to eventually adapt to different day-lengths after several years?

Or would we really be restricted to planets with a relatively narrow range of rotational periods? (Or perhaps forced to use genetic engineering to change that biological cycle)

[mageofarcane]

slips smoothly in ur ask box

hello!! may i request a rui x reader where s/o has a fucked up sleep schedule like rui? headcannons or fic i don't mind, thank you!

haha, write about bad sleep schedules....as I post this at 5 am

🎈Rui with an s/o who has a bad sleep schedule like him

It's no secret that Rui often stays up to some god-forsaken hour in the morning working on his projects and will often pull all-nighters, sometimes even a couple in a row without any sleep. Even with his love of staying up all night, he does enjoy sleeping in and will often need multiple alarms to wake him fully.

So, when Rui finds out his partner has a similar sleep schedule (or lack thereof), he doesn't mind it at all. To him, it means more time spent being/talking with you.

Sometimes you two will spend hours talking to each other through the night, either in person or over the phone, and it'll normally end when one of you finally falls asleep. Rui has learned to always keep a portable charger in his bag not only from long days of wxs work but also in case your phone died from when you fall asleep without plugging it in while you were on video chat with him until 4 am.

When you stay at Rui's house, you'll often have to drag him to bed just to make sure he gets some rest, even if it means you'll be laying there for a while trying to fall asleep while he passes out quite fast.

When you have trouble sleeping, Rui will pull you close to him, cuddling you and gently playing with your hair or lightly rubbing your back while he sings or hums to you in his soft voice. It also works if you do the same on him in the rare instance he can't fall asleep.

He cares more about your well-being than he does for his own, so if he notices that your poor sleeping habits are affecting your well-being, he will willingly stop his work at a decent time just to get you to bed so you can hopefully get more sleep.

[creacherkeeper]

homebrew autism & ADHD mechanics

been thinking about homebrewed disability mechanics for a while and thought i'd make a post with some suggestions based on my experience as a disabled self-advocate and disability coach. i've seen mechanics go around but i haven't seen them broken down by traits! also disclaimer: i am autistic but my experience with ADHD is through friends, family, and clients and i did consult to make the ADHD traits

**i recommend choosing 1-3 of these to emphasize mechanically for your character, and inhabit the rest of the neurotype through roleplay**

shared traits:

special interest/hyperfixation: choose 1-3 interests for your character. you make either intelligence OR wisdom checks about that interest with advantage. if taking an hour or more to engage with the interest, you gain the benefits of a short rest. if you must unwillingly disengage or move away from an interest topic, make a dc 10 intelligence saving throw. on a success, you are able to disengage. on a fail, you will do anything short of harming allies to stay with the special interest, and if there is a person or creature tied to your interest (such as a knowledgeable figure, celebrity, or particular species) you enter the charmed condition for them

time blindness: roll with disadvantage on wisdom and intelligence checks having to do with time, timed events, or order of events. if making an investigation check, you can lose track of time and trade one in-game hour for advantage on the check. add a free 'orb of time' to your inventory - you are unable to tell the time of day while indoors besides use of this item

sleeping issues: if going to bed before midnight, make a dc 10 constitution saving throw. on a success, you fall asleep normally. on a fail, roll 1d4. that is how many hours it will take to fall asleep. while waiting to fall asleep, you cannot be surprised by enemies. on a natural 1, you are unable to fall asleep that night and do not get the benefits of a long rest. you have advantage on saving throws against being put to sleep by magical effects, but may choose to fail them if you wish

sensory processing disorder: as decided by the dm, in busy, chaotic, or loud environments, your passive perception is knocked down by 5 and you have disadvantage on investigation and perception checks, and charisma saving throws. in quiet and calm environments, you get advantage on perception checks involving the senses and you cannot be surprised by enemies

executive dysfunction: **choose 2** 1) once per long rest, roll a dc 10 intelligence saving throw. on a fail, you lose one item from your starting pack. 2) if rolling to recall a list or instructions, make a dc 10 intelligence saving throw. on a fail, the dm may remove 1d4 of the items before telling you. 3) if making an investigation check that takes over an hour in-game, roll a dc 10 constitution saving throw. on a fail, you are too bored or frustrated to continue and auto-fail the investigation check. 4) when approaching a task that will take some time in-game, roll a dc 10 intelligence saving throw. if the check is failed, roll a d4. on a 1 or 2, you underestimate the time needed by one hour. on a 3 or 4, you overestimate the time needed by one hour. 5) prereq: spellcaster. when preparing spells for the day, roll a dc 10 intelligence saving throw. on a fail, use a random number generator to select one spell and take it off your prepared spells list. use the generator again to prepare a different spell at random

autism:

motor issues: choose between athletics and stealth, or acrobatics and sleight of hand. on one set you have advantage, and on the other disadvantage. you auto-fail dexterity saving throws while under the cover of the darkness spell or under the blinded condition

social: you have disadvantage on insight checks to tell if unfamiliar people are lying to you or using sarcasm. when telling an unfamiliar person a surprising truth, your persuasion check is instead treated in-game as a deception check. if you make a saving throw for a zone of truth spell, add 5 to the dc for only yourself. you may add one free language, or tool or weapon proficiency

meltdown/shutdown: make a list of triggers. when faced with a trigger, make a dc 10 wisdom saving throw. any character can use an action to grant advantage on the roll, including animal companions or familiars. on a success, nothing happens. on a failure, the player chooses between three consequences: meltdown, shutdown, or aggression. meltdown: you take on the 'fear' condition. shutdown: you take on the 'stunned' condition. aggression: you must use your action to attack - if the character is a non-combatant, it is a non-lethal unarmed strike. on any of the three consequences, a character can use their action to prompt another dc 10 wisdom saving throw. on a success, the condition is removed, but you take one level of exhaustion (if the condition is entered during a battle, the exhaustion is taken after the battle is over)

ADHD:

rejection sensitive dysphoria: at the trigger of rejection (real or perceived) make a dc 10 charisma saving throw. on a fail, you enter the stunned condition. you or an ally may use an action to prompt another saving throw to end the condition. when the condition is ended, you take one level of exhaustion (if stunned is entered during a battle, exhaustion is taken after the battle is over). the spell vicious mockery always prompts the RSD saving throw, and does max damage if the RSD saving throw has been failed in the same battle. you get max healing from healing word spells, and automatically get a 4 when under the effect of guidance

impulsivity: you auto-fail the saving throw for the suggestion spell. before rolling an attack, you may choose to subtract 5 from your attack roll in order to add your proficiency bonus to the damage. dash is a bonus action for you

focus: **choose 1** 1) inattention: if making an investigation check that takes more than 10 minutes in-game, first roll a dc 10 constitution saving throw - on a fail, you become bored and roll the investigation check with disadvantage. you roll with disadvantage to remember proper nouns. in a combat with 3 or more enemies, if more than one enemy is within your normal movement speed, you must pass a dc 10 wisdom saving throw to attack the same enemy multiple turns in a row. 2) hyperfocus: while making an investigation check, if you spend double the usual in-game time on the check, you will roll with advantage, but if you are interrupted before that time can pass, you roll with disadvantage. if engaged with a task, roll 1d4 - this is the amount of hours that will pass in-game if you are not interrupted - during this time your passive perception is knocked down by 5. in a combat with 3 or more enemies, you must pass a dc 10 wisdom saving throw to switch targets or take a disengage

if you enjoyed or are planning to use these mechanics, it would be totally cool to drop me a kofi but absolutely no pressure! if this post does well enough i'll probably end up making more cause this was super fun!!