i always get tired halfway through

a little like writing or loving

for nursey week, day 2: “surprise or simplicity.”


“If that pen explodes in your mouth,” Dex says from the bathroom doorway, “I am not gonna feel bad for you.”

Derek startles–and does drop the pen out of his mouth–and looks up. “What?”

Dex cocks a brow at him, flicking off the bathroom light and flopping down on the hotel bed next to Derek’s. “You’ve had two pens explode in your mouth from chewing on them like that,” he says. His red hair is wet, tousled from where he must’ve run his hands through it after his shower, and he rolls onto his stomach, propping himself on his elbows to look at Derek. “What’re you glaring at, anyway?”

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I wish neurotypicals understood…

I always get the “but you don’t look autistic” from people at work (unless I’m currently having a meltdown). And I just wish they understood that we can’t just get up and go to work or whatever they can. If I don’t have my survival kit I freak out. If I forgot my lunch I freak. If the schedule suddenly changes, I freak. But if everything goes well, yeah I don’t have many noticeable tells because I trained myself all through schooling to not get bullied and I avoided getting bullied by not letting it show (even if I didn’t know back then what I was hiding, just that it wasn’t normal and that equaled bad). 

Like, I get looks every day for my lunch/breakfast which is a bottle of that Soylent meal replacer and a jar of overnight oats. But it’s low spoons to make and eat and I don’t have to think or stress about it. It works so they can just shut up and stop making faces.

Or the very fact that I need a survival kit to survive working retail:

  • Sunglasses (cool red aviators so people at least make nicer comments)
  • Hat (to block some of the florescent lights)
  • Vibe earplugs (for went it gets too loud)
  • Noise blocking earbuds (for breaks to try and de-stress)
  • Fidget cube (hidden among my work related keychain items)
  • A wardrobe carefully picked for sensory issues
  • nail clippers, lip balm, tweezers (to fix things that would cause me to skin pick or bite my nails)
  • 2 thermoses of coffee (which I think might be me self treating ADD. I’ve never been tested but I can’t focus without a constant drip of caffeine)

I would love not to have a panic attack just for forgetting my headphones at home. Or for my whole day to get ruined cuz my jeans suddenly start rubbing wrong halfway through the day. I can’t even hide my emotions (a complete open book) so everyone always asks whats wrong. And I know the genuinely care and I feel luck and happy for that, but how do I explain that I’m just so uncomfortable that I want to cry? 

I’ve tried explaining before about things like the sound sensory issues and they sympathize then quickly forget. They just don’t seem to get it. Not really. Its prolly something you have to live to actually understand. 

I’m just tired.

FENCE BASHER-LEWIS REDMAN °ONE°

Hello so this fanfic is about lewis and i fucking loveee him. I have many social medias so check my account and follow them. Also i would love some feedback so leave a comment or a vote or just message me.

Love katie xx

Word count: 1.6k

I wake up to the dull sound of my alarm which wakes me up at 6:30 almost everyday. Mornings are my favorite part of the day, well the most calm part of my day, quiet, chill and relaxed. I get up and make my usual cup of tea, with milk and no sugar the way i like it. I carry the warm mug I use every morning that my room Tina got me last christmas after breaking my favorite unicorn one to the balcony of our London apartment where I sit and watch the rest of the summer sunrise. The traffic of london starting to get busier all the yells of people calling cab, businessmen talking in the phone about their next meetings,car horns and engines stopping and starting. All the famous building, skyscrapers and the blocks of apartment or offices that makes up the city start to wake up and get populated with the workers. I sit on the outdoor chairs that we got at the beginning of summer watching time fly past and sip on my tea before deciding that it’s time to get ready for work.

Don’t get me wrong I love my job but it’s very busy and there is a lot of decision making that puts people’s lives in my hands. The life breaking decisions that i have to make everyday give me the adrenalin and thrill to keep going and not knowing what the days going to give me.

There’s never a boring day working as a junior doctor in one of England’s busiest hospitals. Being a part of saving people’s lives for 2 years has been worth all the training. The people i’ve meet, now some of my best friends, stories of the patients and the beautiful moments of families being reunited or sometimes being brought into the world.

Being full time doesn’t give me much time to have a relationship or many strong friendship. I don’t really know how Tina does it. Her 3 year strong relationship with her boyfriend Brad it truly something I would love to share with someone I love one day. It’s the little things he does like bring her a new bunch of flowers every 2 weeks. He takes her for little cute date nights every friday whether it’s the cinema, a fancy meal at one of london’s finest restaurants, nandos or a movie night in I wish i had someone to do that with and not have to be the third wheel on multicolored chair that doesn’t fit our colour scheme but Tina insisted on us getting.

I haven’t had any serious relationship, except for the one I had in college but he didn’t understand that him cheating on me was okay making me break up with him after my heart being shattered and focusing on my dreams. I’m glad I did as it lead me to the happy place I’m at now.

Making my way to the kitchen and placing my mug inside of the sink before walking to Tinas room. Knowing the Brad didn’t stay last night due to me and Tina having a girls night meaning he wasn’t aloud, I walk straight in and go to the window opening the dark purple curtains letting the bright sunrays fly straight into Tina’s now open eyes.

“what the fuck" She groans and covers her eyes with her thick duvet. Walking around the bed with my hands on my hips I stand by the door.

“I call dibs on the shower!” I shout knowing that Tina hates me going first. I always make sure I take a long time to keep her waiting and get to wake up. With this being my own special Tina alarm i run to the bathroom so she know I wasn’t lying. After hearing a couple of thuds and curse words I hear the sound of heavy foot steps catching up but not quick enough and me reaching the shower before Tina has reached the door.

“You had a shower first yesterday!” Tina shouts banging on the door to show her frustration. Ignoring her i strip out of my comfy floral pyjamas and turn the shower on. Stepping in I let the warm water cover my body, the pressure of the water relaxes my muscles and awakens me even more. I take out my hair band that stopped my hair getting to tangled in the night placing it round my wrist and start washing my hair.  

The sweet smell of exotic fruits fill the bathroom along with the steam  fogging up the mirror that is on the wall above the mirror. I turn off the shower after washing my body and wrap a fluffy white towel around my body. Grabbing my toothbrush i start brushing my teeth and drying my body. Unlocking the door I  stand out the way knowing Tina will be waiting to run in hearing that the water had stopped.

“You better not of used all the hot water” she shouts pushing me out the bathroom and closing the door. Chuckling to myself I walk to my room and close the door. Going to my draws i get out my underwear and lay it on the bed. I go to my wardrobe and get my usual work uniform. A matching top and trouser in the same shade of sky blue. It’s nothing too fancy no tight fitting jeans or trendy tops. Seeming as most of the time I’m covered in blood or vomit I don’t mind it.

I dry my body and get into my underwear before pulling the top over my head and my trousers up my legs. I blow dry my hair and sit at my dressing table. It probably one of my favorite feature of my bedroom. Sound stupid I know it should be my bed as that’s where I spend most of my time but growing up in a small room and not being able to have one it was my first investment. I love my make up having a space to put it and play with it makes me love it.

I grab my hairbrush and brush through my knotted hair putting it in 2 and starting to french braid it. One of the most strict rules at the hospital is that all hair has to be tied up, I mean I wouldn’t want my hair to fall into someone’s cut open leg and it get infected or something.

I place on some mascara not bothering to do a whole contoured, smokey eye, bright lipstick perfect face for it to sweat off and make me look completely out of place like im meant to be in a club and not on a accident and emergency ward.

Grabbing my watch, my work bag with my main essentials like my stethoscope, my work card, my name badge which I place around my neck, my purse, car keys, a spare change of clothes for when I get vomited on and my pager for when i’m need quickly at work. Think of it as a phone for the doctors to call each other.

I walk to the living room seeing the bathroom door open meaning Tina’s probably getting ready. I grab my phone and check a couple of my social media and reading some new.

“you ready?” Tina asks coming to the living room dressed in the same outfit as me a brown satchel hanging off her shoulder. She has her hair in a messy bun resting at the top of her head still slightly damp.

“yep" I reply realising the time and that we have 30 minutes till we have to start work. I grab my bag and take my keys out walking to the front door. I walk out Tina shutting the door and walk to the lift pressing the button calling it to our level.

“I wonder what work has in store for us today i’m shattered I don’t think all my brain has even woken up yet” Tina say leaving us both giggling knowing that she always makes sure she gets her sleep yet she is always tired.

“when are you not tired. You literally fell asleep on my yesterday" I giggle thinking about how our night went last night with her falling asleep halfway through mean girls.

“Hey! I had a long day yesterday" she gives me a slight slap on my arm as we exit the lift.

“We have the same job I had a long day too"  I say walking over to my blue mini and hoping in Tina doing the same. I start the engine the radio turning on and some pop songs start playing. We make our way through the busy roads to the hospital taking the shortcuts making us get there on time. Parking in the car park we walk to small way to the hospital, not without Tina having her usual moan about them putting the car park to far away from the hospital.

Finally we make it in and to the staff room where we put our bags in the lockers and add the finishing pieces to our uniform so were fully equiped. Walking out I stand for a couple of minutes and watch the scene around me.

“lets see what today has in store for me”

28th september 2017

Too Hot To Handle

Word Count: 4.3k 

Genre: smut  

Warnings: Grinding/frottage, rimming. 

Summary: Dan was sleeping on the couch and Phil comes in when he was having a wet dream. Later Phil finds out what the dream was about, and helps make it a reality for Dan.

Link for Ao3 ( x )

A/N: My first fanfic!? WOo! i hope you guys like it! (oh tell me if you find any grammar mistakes so i can fix them thank you!) Enjoy :)

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I Hate This

Prompt:Dan and Phil have a panel on playlist live or vidcon (or something similar) and Dan collapses in front of everyone on stage and Phil catches him. It can be fluffy and all that :3 I’m not sure if that’s a decent prompt or not… but there you go anyways! I love your phanfictions by the way <3”

A/N: Wrote as a part of the narcolepsy series.
Genre:
 Fluff, chronic illness, slight angst.
Warnings:

Words:
 2.449

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The Wife Ch. 8

Part 3 of “The Nanny” Series

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seung Hyun

Synopsis: Confronting the Past

Warnings: Not that I can think of…

Author’s Note: Just a small note, from here on out I won’t be using jagiya/jagi as a term of endearment in this story. It’ll be replaced with Yeobo, which is more or less the same thing, but is used strictly between married couples only. :)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Masterlist


You pretty much slept almost the entire flight back to Korea. The truth was you were absolutely worn out between your wedding night activities and this morning, when Seung Hyun had pounced on you in the shower.

The fact that you were so tired did not go unnoticed by the others and they teased you mercilessly for it. You had been completely embarrassed, but your husband seemed to find it both hilarious and flattering that he’d managed to sap your energy so thoroughly.

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i’ve decided i’m too tired to stay up until stupid o’clock to watch the finale ,     and this internet is so awful it will likely crash halfway through and i’ll miss some of the episode .    so !!   i’ll just catch it tomorrow morning and avoid my dashboard until i’ve seen it .     i probably won’t be writing anymore tonight ,     so i hope you all get through the finale okay and my ims are always open if anyone needs to cry it out !

When I was a little girl, I loved sitting at my mother’s vanity. I would open the little drawers filled with lipsticks and perfumes and powders, testing them one after the other, drawing over my mouth crudely and filling my lids with bright blue shadow. I would put her mother’s gold-and-pearl earrings on my ears, one clip and then the other, feeling like one of the beautiful, big-haired women from the mid-90s soaps that played in the background while my mother sewed on the machine, and I played on the floor.

I would take a pair of her satin heels out of the closet and shuffle around in them, my tiny feet barely filling the toes of the shoe, my frilled socks pulled up to two different heights around my ankles. There was something intoxicating about all of it – the pomp and circumstance of being A Woman.

And to this day, so much of being A Woman feels deeply wrapped up in this somewhat vain, ultimately material idea. I think of A Woman as having an elegant nightstand, with a single, small drawer that you must never look in. It contains a few pieces of jewelry, a dog-eared romance novel, a delicate jar of loose powder that smells like perfume and makes you glow just a little bit pink. A Woman has a lamp next to her bed, so she can read books before she falls asleep, and she always has a few important novels and biographies lined up along the stand, so people can see that she is smart, and that she loves to learn.

When you open her closet, it’s filled with crisp white shirts and floral dresses that swish around her knees and a beige trench coat that she can wear in almost every kind of weather. She slips it on as she heads out the door to do her shopping, along with her conservative heels and her single strand of pearls. When she doesn’t have the time to style her hair, she clips it back with a tortoise shell barrette and lets a few strands fall around her face.

In the mirror by the door, she applies a quick coat of lipstick and presses her lips together three times to even it out.

Sometimes I feel that I will never be A Woman, because my nightstand is really a dresser, and it’s always overflowing with cheap clothes I buy on impulse and never wear. I get tired of books quickly and stop them halfway through, and then read the same ones I love already a dozen more times in their place. My closet is full of dresses that don’t fit quite right, and coats that are always too heavy or too light, and impractical heels I can only wear if I know I don’t have to do any walking. I’m lucky if I can remember to swipe on a bit of chap stick as I’m running out the door.

Whenever I go to A Woman’s house, I always look in her bathroom. I admire the creams and the powders and the impractical objects, and smell the delicate soaps, and think of the foresight it took to purchase the shampoo and conditioner in perfect little sets. I think of her taking her shower, of having a different soap for her face, and for her body, and for her hair. I think of her getting out and blotting herself off, rubbing a bit of lotion in between her hands and spreading it over her legs, and then her stomach, and then her shoulders. I think of her wrapping her hair in a towel, and her body in a robe, and inspecting her face in a magnified mirror, tweezers in hand.

And then I think of myself, as a little girl, staring in my mother’s mirror. I think of how small my face looked in the enormous expanse of her vanity, and how much I had to grow before I became A Woman, because then I would have all of these beautiful things my mother and her mother had for me to play with. And maybe I will always be buying another cream, another powder, another dress, to feel like I am finally one of them.