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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 year ago

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Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snez #snzblr #male cold #male snz #male ocs #original character

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yoon-topias · 5 months ago

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Yoontopia Chapter 8.5 { Unpacking Desires }

⟡ Warnings: Smut, angst, Sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, making out, overstimulation, grinding (orgasm in clothing), teasing, Dom!Yoongi, Sub!OC, pet names, use of the name 'daddy', slight Exhibitionism (In front of window with curtains open and cracked open), Strong language, depression, mental health issues, references to self harm, risky behavior, spanking, biting.

⟡ 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

⟡ Best friend's older brother x OC

⟡ Summary: After packing up to move Both Violet and Yoongi need a shower but what happens when she asks him to wash her hair again after so long. They both see parts of each other they haven't seen.

⟡ 8.4k words

Yoongi Pov:

We spent the rest of the morning to midafternoon not only bickering about what is to go and what is to stay, but joking around like the old days. With her only in those tiny shorts and sport bra just made me wanna do unspeakable things that push more boundaries than imaginable. She's currently in the shower not a bath for once and here I'm waiting in her room like a puppy begging for their owner to come out. I can hear her music lightly playing and her voice lightly singing along with the water making it feel even more serene. It's not a fast paced song like she normally has on her playlist. What's this playlist cause' I need it. The way her voice sounds is taking me to my utopia. Won't hurt to unlock it for a second right? She's in my utopia, our utopia I like to think. when we're in my bed the silk sheets draping over us under those fucking stars, her own constellations shining back at me.

She's on top of me her knees on either side of me caging me, in nothing but my t-shirt and those purple fucking panties all those years ago. They still have a chokehold over me. My hands placed on her upper thighs, my thumb in the crease of her hip and thigh. Fuck.

My head hits the wall behind me as I wait for her to beckon me inside that bathroom. I know it's coming, she knows it's coming but when? I have no clue.

Her body makes me weak as I move my hands closer to her most intimate spots. She lets out a breathy moan as I kiss on her neck. My hand finds it way closer to my sweats. I want to feel something. No, her.

Lightly rubbing my thumb up and down over my sweats, my semi hard cock aching for some relief I can't give it, not yet at least. Fuck. I need to chain it up forever. Haven't I learned yet? My utopia is brings out things in me, and right now I can't be having a fucking semi hard on waiting for Vi to call me into that bathroom. Just a little more won't do no harm. Right?

She pulls my hand away from her thigh and moves it up onto her chest. Her breasts not only feels like the softest skin I've ever touched, she is the silk sheets I've slept with all these years. I lean in and start at her collarbone kissing down slowly. Every motion is calculated, as I distract her mind as I move my other hand to her panties tug them to the side. She moans my name as I do "Yoongi." it's so breathy which only feeds my inner demons. My mouth released admiring my work the purple mark I left on my purple girl. "What have I said baby? It's not Yoongi, It's Sir to you." giving her chin a tap "Come on say it, baby." encouraging her as my thumb slowly starts rubbing circles taking her to another world in our own place we have built. She's soaking and it's all for me. "Say it pretty, or I'll stop. You don't want that do you?" rubbing a little faster we haven't taken our eyes from each other. She arches a little in my lap. My other hand lets go of her breast and lands right on her ass to keep in place she ain't goin' nowhere she's mine. Rubbing faster, I feel her get so soaked that my hand is covered. I stop she wines. "I told you." and she opens her mouth to say it "S-"

"Yoongi! You can come in." Fuck.

I went too far in my utopia. She takes me to those places and in the worst of times. No, I walk right into it myself. She is just there waiting for me. Looking down at myself, my hand is on my semi hard little wet patch on my pants. Am I embarrassed? Hell no, why would I? I'm a man and have my own fantasies I need fulfilled, was not the best moment but with her there is no wrong moment when I let myself indulge. "Are you sure Vi?" I hear her turn off the music and yell overtop the water. "Yes! Please, it's been forever since you washed my hair."

Normally she's in the bath covered in those heavenly vanilla bubbles that make her smell like the Vi I know, her vanilla mixing with my musky warm vanilla. But a shower? there will be nothing covering her. My eyes will get to look at how the suds will run down her back into the drain covering her body. Soapy. Slippery. Soft.

The letter 'S' will be the end of me before I even make it to the letter 'V'. Maybe I need to learn the alphabet backwards cause’ she has already ended me without trying.

"Okay, I'm coming!" trying to think of something that will make me not have a hard on mhm. Hans saying "dick too good." Yep disgusting, last thing I want in my mind. Jin and Hobi on the couch ass naked, where I sit. Good another to make me less hard. "Are you coming?" she is yelling for me, looking down at myself as good as it's gonna get.

Stepping forward the weight of my legs feels like two tons attached to my body dragging me to my death. She is behind that door with the lights off, just a few candles lit, a clear shower wall, in nothing but a swimsuit. She begged after all the hard work of packing to wash her hair to "feel comfort" and if she makes the joke like she used to about calling me daddy, it's over for me.

It's been years since I've snuck into this same bathroom to wash her hair, with my sister in another room. This time there is no sneaking, her bedroom door is wide open to an empty apartment. With her yelling for me behind a very thin door that can be heard from every corner of the apartment. My hand, reaching for the door knob turning it lightly hearing the click of the latch releasing, already eating me alive. "Vi turn like when you're in the bath, facing away so I don't get sprayed with water as much as possible." As I step it the lighting from the two candles all I can see is her back the way it curves since when did she wear a two piece swimsuit? Fuck.

This damn bathroom with the candles and her stars on the ceiling is truly a work of art, she is the priceless art in a museum all for me. The steam from the shower is already suffocating me, one more step, Yoongi one more. Once I step in I shut the door behind me and all I can see is her back, ass, god those thighs. Running my tongue ring against my teeth. Her head is leaning into the water, reaching her hand up to run through her hair, all I can do is road map her body adding little stars in my mind I want to explore, she is one big star in my mind at this point.

Her hair running over her shoulder, water flowing down, her tiny bow in the middle of her back, right above her ribs, a little birthmark placed across the top of her left side, I've never seen. As she turns a little into the water I feel like I'm a damn voyeur, it feels so wrong but so good to see her like this. So much for my tricks to get my semi hard gone. "Yoon how about you just get in?"

"Huh?" Did I hear that right she is inviting me into her shower? The tub was always pushing limits, the shower? Yeah it's running them over with a truck. Border patrol where are you when I need you. "You heard me just get in your boxers or grab basketball shorts. Instead of trying to not get soaked."

I wanna make you soaked more than that little shower can do. No, reel yourself the fuck in Min Yoongi.

My two options are get in my boxers with a semi hard, tell her not to turn in my direction at all the sweats are barely hiding with my hand in my pocket pulling the fabric away from my dick, let alone the fucking wet spot I gave myself is still drying. The second option is tell her no and hide behind her like every other time I washed her hair and get the fuck out as quickly as I can and relieve myself in the other bathroom.

My mind is screaming number one. I'd be the closest I've ever been to her seeing her body up close. The lighting isn't in my favor to see her fully from this far. Option one it is.

Lowering my voice to my raspy voice I know that gets every girl, will it affect her the same way? "Okay, but and I mean it, Violet Rose do not turn around at any point once I undress. Got it?" She automatically straightened her posture under the water flowing over her. "Yes, Yoongi."

"Good girl." Am I really gonna do this? I can't believe myself right now. She is mine at this moment, I'm hers. Always will be. I look down at my sweats. What am I? A teenager boy that can't control his fucking dick with his first crush? I guess she makes me resort to a fucking teenager boy who can't even control his body, I feel like I could bust and I'm not even doing anything, not even fully hard trying to suppress it as much as I can. Fuck it.

Pulling my socks off one by one, throwing them on the floor on top of her shirt she wore to cover herself before getting in. Hooking my thumbs on the waistband of my sweats dragging them down looking down at my black Calvin Klein boxers that hit little above mid thigh. I can see the damage I did in the past to my body only the deep scars that haunt me every time I look down.

My shirt is the last thing I would rather not remove, the deepest, most painful scar on my body. If she sees it I wouldn't know how to explain it at not yet. Jin only saw it when I got too shitfaced and he had to shower me off. I need to figure out a way and fast if she asks.

Gulping hard as I tug on the corner of my shirt pulling it off my body, looking in the mirror I see the body I hide from everyone behind the baggy shirts. My inner upper biceps have a few deep scars from when I ran out of space. She wouldn't think this is hot let alone sexy. I may have soft abs and muscle but that doesn't make up for what's edged into my skin. Clothes really do hide how often I find myself in the gym. My chains are around my neck never taking them off, one a thin chain, and the other a little thicker layered on top of each other. They really did pick the best set of chains for me.

"Are you coming?" She adds an emphasis on the 'ing' one more look at myself. If she sees then she sees and there's no denying my body let alone my attraction towards the women in front of me. "Patience, you need to learn patience. Do I need to teach it to you princess?" She crosses her arms over her chest. I wish I had the front view so damn bad, but that would just expose me.

Taking one more look at myself in the mirror under this dim lighting even if she does turn around for some reason the light barely makes it to the shower, and she shouldn't be looking down at my dick for any reason. Looking over at her under the water it's a dream I must've gone crazy, yeah that's it I'm in my utopia. It has to be the only logical situation and even that is a stretch.

Wait, I've never showered with anyone. She also was the first girl I ever slept in bed with, something so mundane yet it's so heavy on my chest. It's different with her, everything is. This shower has more meaning to me than her probably. Granted we're both in some sort of clothing, but still. She's the first girl I let in this bubble let alone be this close to me in such a way. A thousand butterflies erupt in the pit of my stomach, this all feels too intimate, it feels so right though.

My legs start to move on their own, her shower has a glass wall that runs half to the end and stops, the way the steam is filling the top of this whole bathroom filling my lungs like a cig. It's thick, warm, everything matches the way the smoke fills my lungs. She is giving me the euphoric feeling of the first hit, over and over. I can't get enough. To hell with cigs she is all I need. No more running from her.

As I get to the shower wall my hand touches the glass for some sort of comfort, reining in another side of myself as I see under her ribs meeting her under boob a small tattoo I wouldn't have ever seen otherwise. It is a small writing I can't make out the words, there is a koi fish in a manner that by the looks of it missing the pair. I need a closer look, she has a tattoo and it makes me want to see if there is anymore.

"Comin' in, Rules Vi Kay?" She nods her head and turns her body into the water facing away from me, the water running down her chest. "Got it, Yoons." My foot hitting the wet floor it's scolding hot just like how she likes her bath. "Turn the damn water down Vi."

"Oh I forgot I'm sorry!" I see her lift her arm up and turn it to a less of a damn boiling pot of water no wonder it's so fucking steamy in here. Stepping in closer to her there is an aroma of the vanilla body wash. It's filling my senses, she is filling my senses, everything is encompassed with her right now.

The way her body is just lit enough to see her where I was standing before is a dark hole looking into her aura she has around her. Her hand is over her shoulder to the front of her body giving me a full look at her backside. The tiny little bow I wish to just pull with my fingers let it loose, spin her around and see what I have been yearning for. My respect for her is way more than just what I crave.

One step. Two steps.

Meeting her back, my hand finding its way to run my finger down her back "You're stunning, Violet." Her shoulder blade moves after I run my fingers down her placing it on her hip.

"You're just sayin' it Yoon." This voice is so small, weak I hit her soft spot. That's the girl I know all too well. That was too shy to say excuse me to anyone in her way. She may come off like a firecracker to everyone she knows, but to strangers she is different. "I'm not a stranger, Vi. I'm your Yoongi, Yoon, your big fish. Don't be so shy with me." Giving her hip a squeeze it's different feeling her skin, it's silky.

"Remember you have to accept all my compliments Miss. Pineapple." Calling her that to lighten it up even though on the inside I'm losing it right now. She doesn't need to know that though. "Thank you Mr. Pineapple." She laughs a little after saying it. That's my girl.

Looking down, giving myself a full on boner throbbing in my boxers, they're wet now, the outline of my dick is so prominent that even under this lighting one wrong move and she is seeing it. Deep breath, Yoongi. Tapping on her hip doing my habit of grounding, but instead of tapping my fingers to my own I tap her hip, her soft body.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Exhaling out, looking at her hip dips the way they dip at her thighs. I want to do so many things to her. Her ass is so perfectly round, yet has little bit of cellulite on it. It's very minimal, but it's doing things to me. I never liked the normal standards they weren’t for me. Everyone is beautiful in their own way but this woman in front of me is my type, my ecstasy.

Violet Pov:

I can feel his hand on my hip, why did I do this to myself? It's just like with dress shopping. I can feel the tapping against my skin. It feels so good, I wanna lean into it. He can drown me for all I care, take me to hell with him.

He steps a little closer. I hear his feet hit the floor, the water splashing. What really shocks me is when his hand slides its way up, feeling like he is draining everything from within me. "Didn't know you had a tattoo." he lets out a breathy “mhm” after it. Finally letting the air out of my lungs I have been holding in since the moment the started those fucking taps on my hip. "Y-yeah I got a few just hidden."

He wraps both his hands around my stomach. This is the closest we have ever been in the amount of skin to skin touching. I can feel his warm chest, his cold chains, on my back. Leaning into my shoulder that isn't getting hit directly with water. "A scavenger hunt, I like it.” he rasps. He gives me a squeeze. I feel my thighs clench in the way he talks to me. I may be wet from the shower, but other places are already soaked from him.

Bringing his hand up to touch under my ribs where a few are. "Found two, what's my reward princess?"

Biting on my lip, if only he could see I know he would pull my lip away from between my teeth capturing it with his own. "Whatever you want Yoon." I know I cave every time someone puts a little bit of power on me, but with him I trust him to lead the way. Once I hear the metal scrape along his teeth. Fuck, the sound does things to me. It's so simple, it's like damn asmr hitting all the right spots.

"I wanna know the story, wanna see it up close." He squeezes a little, along with a tap from every finger the end of his middle finger is right at the side of my boob. I just want him to grab it, make me his. It's not my choice though.

Push and pull that's what we do. Always have.

"Okay." Lifting my arm up, closing my eyes I said I won't look at him so I won't. "My eyes are closed promise, turning so you can see." As I start to turn, his hand falling off my side, steps back a little, hearing his feet hit the floor, losing his warmth. All I want is his warmth running through my veins, his hands on my body.

My arm is straight up and down so he can see the full tattoo, I feel his hand wrap around my forearm pulling it down and he places it on his shoulder. I feel his skin, his soft skin under the palm of my hand. It's not a fantasy anymore, it's a need. "Lean on me Vi, no need to hold your arm up."

He leans down a little, feeling my arm slightly going down. "I live so I love." He reads it out loud, finger tracing it sending shocks down my body.

"Y-yeah I choose to live so I can love."

"That's beautiful, Vi" the pad of his tub rubs side to side on my tattoo. "Why the koi?"

My koi fish is a white koi with black spots on it with the one on his head being a heart. Thinking of why I fell in love with the small sketch I saw Jk drawing asking why koi and he explained the meaning behind them. It's friendship more than just banana milk, funny enough. He tattooed it on me, learned from his tattoo artist, and wishes his dad would accept it as a job. He knows he never would, so he pushes it down and just says 'Don't know what I wanna do yet.' I hope he gets the courage one day to stand up to him and show him his work. Not even a week later I was in a chair and Jk etching the koi into my skin forever.

"Cause the Koi represents love. Affection. It's the only reason why I'm still on this earth, Yoon. So if I choose to live then I can love, the only thing that makes me feel alive. As for the Koi there is a matching one on the original sketch. It's a black one with a white heart instead. I choose the lighter one since I need a little bitterness in my life to balance me out. They hold my black koi fi-"

As I'm about to finish my sentence he grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. I know if I open my eyes I'm going to be looking at him. I'm a coward, I can't. The water rushing down my back, I didn't even notice my back being cold with him behind me. He taps on my chin "Open your eyes, Violet." he says with the softest voice. Shaking my head no, I can't if I look at him like this I might lose it. Once I open my eyes, if he disappears like he does when I open my eyes from my own escape, my dreams. "No, cause if I open them you'll disappear. Like you always do."

I hear his foot hit the floor with a splash stepping closer. "Since when do I disappear? Mhm tell me, baby." He moves his hand to my cheek rubbing up and down. "In my dreams." Taking his hand away from my face taking a deep breath, so warm on me. We're so close I didn't even realize.

"Hold your pinky up." He says it in such a deep rasp, it makes me melt. The butterflies erupt over and over since I heard his first foot step into the shower. Shakily holding up my pinky I feel his lock with mine. Hearing his lips press against his thumb placing a kiss on his thumb. "I'm gonna count to three and when you open, I'm gonna be here. We're gonna seal the promise. Gotta kiss it, remember?"

Nodding my head, I can't say anything. Words, what are they? Never heard of them.

One. Two. Three.

As I open my eyes he is staring at me with the most intense, deep, breathtaking, lustful eyes I've ever seen. I can't even take into account this is the first time I have ever seen him shirtless. "Gotta kiss it, Vi." Leaning into it to kiss my thumb, as I seal it with a kiss I can't seem to take my eyes off him.

The way his chest is sculpted, his pecks jut out a little bit, his chest bone caving in a little bit. His collar bones are so prominent, the two chains resting on his chest layered. My necklace is on him, in my shower in front of me. He leans his thumb in I see it from my peripheral vision shaking my head and blinking. "Sorry." pressing our thumbs together.

"Pinky"

"Swear"

"See, was that so hard princess?" Nodding my head at him, unable to take my eyes off of him. I see scars on his arms. Wait, he has done it too just like me? Maybe we're both just scared people trying to find our healer, to take it all away. "Y-you." Pointing at one of his scars on his bicep. "Mhm I've been there. I know your pain princess."

"You let me look." My voice comes off as a whisper. "I knew there was no holding back as soon as you asked me to get in with you." He gives me a true smile. One that I know is reserved only for me. I can't help but think "He's so handsome." Oh fuck did I say that out loud? No. No. No.

"Oh yeah? You think I'm handsome? Miss pink cheeks." Reaching to poke at my cheeks and I pull his hand down before he can lock it with mine. "No it's just from the hot shower, but you are handsome Yoon. So fucking handsome." The last three words come out as a whisper.

He takes a step as he does I step back. "Thought we said no more runnin'." He takes another step his knee is between my legs so close, so fucking close.

Leaning in closer next to my ear he whispers "Don't worry I'll always catch you." Giving my hand a tight squeeze. The way he said it makes me clench not only my thighs but feels like my whole body. "So reactive." The metal scraping against his teeth, sending chills through my body in this hot shower. He lets go of my hand placing his hand on my hip turning me to lean on the glass wall, the water is running in between us.

The first time he's been actually under the water his blonde hair drips into his face, pushing it back tilting his head into the water. The way his neck is adorned with the chain I bought him, his adam's apple is so defined when he moves his neck in this direction. As he leans back, his eyes roll back in his head, chest rising taking a deep breath, exhaling it out "Fuck, Vi."

"What Yoon?" Taking another breath, running his hand through his hair one more time. As he lifts his head back down his eyes slowly open locking with mine, they're so intense. He looks down for the first time at my front view, trying to hide my stomach and body with my hands, he pulls them away. "No, let me see Vi. You're gorgeous."

He licks his lips slowly as he sinks in my body, consuming me. "And I thought I was an ass man, you might just convert me." He reaches above him, turning the water head away from us, stepping closer, caging me in his arms. Looking into my eyes with the most serious face I've seen, but there is something more to his look. Lust? His eyes have never looked like this to like he wants to consume every inch of my body. "I need a fix Violet."

"There's no pineapple here." I let out a breathy laugh.

"You are my pineapple." His voice comes out confident, deep.

Not wasting any time he leans in, pressing his lips to mine, letting out a low groan deep in his throat. I feel chills all over my body from no longer having the water running over us, but he is filling me with his warmth. His body is like a heater warning me from within myself.

Our lips are moving in sync, but I feel like I can barely keep up with him. The slight roughness to his lips makes me want to kiss him forever to make his lips so soft that he won't ever need chapstick again. I'll be his chapstick. His hands, finding their way to my hip and upper rib cage giving me a squeeze that's so tight he takes the little air left that's in my lungs. I let out a moan that sounds more of a whimper.

"Fuck I think I just found a new fetish Vi. Your moans from my touch." Digging his fingertips into my skin, making me lean my head back letting out a small moan, for him. "Yoon."

"Yes, baby?"

My head is spinning, my body is throbbing with senses I haven't felt in forever. Meeting his eyes they are hooded filled with hunger. "You've never heard my moans so how would you know the difference between your touch and another." He leans in, pressing his knee making my thighs part he settles into my personal bubble that's all his for the taking. He leans into my ear whispering "Who says I haven't heard you when you're in your bed pleasing yourself baby, bet you have a toy don't you. You're not as quiet as you think." He bites down on my neck, I'm pulsing through my entire body but specifically in one area. "I bet it's pink." Pressing his knee into my pussy harshly rubbing, this time I didn't even have to do anything he was doing it.

Taking the air out of my lungs letting the moan rip through my airway. "Yoongi."

"Oh someone likes my knee, why don't you make yourself cum pretty. I know you want to." I can feel my rib cage moving like a jackhammer up and down, every bone in my body is craving for a release. I have been too focused on me and when everything starts to sink in. He is in my shower only in boxers between my legs telling me to cum for him. No this is a dream, it's one of my fantasies. Yeah that's it.

Feeling a tap under my chin, not even realizing I have been staring into his chest letting my mind consume me with him. "You good Vi?"

Nodding my head, lifting my hand, gesturing my index finger back and forth "This is a dream."

"Oh yeah?" He grabs my hand, pulls it down and I feel his- no I can't be. "Is this in your dreams baby?" His boxers are tight, so fucking tight. I can feel how big he is, how thick he is. He's definitely the biggest I have touched yet I haven't even seen it.

Biting on my bottom lip looking down at his slim waist, the outline of his abs prominent. Since when did he have abs? The thick waistband of his boxers engraved with 'Calvin Klein'. My hand is small compared to his bulge, there is an outline of his head coming from on top of my hand. Everything in me wants to feel him for all that he's worth, make him feel like he has ascended to heaven. I'm not confident enough in my body let alone my actions. "You're the leading role in my dreams Yoon." Looking up at him, giving me a small squeeze, rubbing my thumb up and down. I feel a vein, he pulses a little from my touch. I can't believe I can make him feel like this the way he is reacting.

"Violet if you don't stop, I won't be able to hold back." his voice comes out thick and husky.

"But what if we make each other feel good, Yoon?"

He leans down, locking our lips. It's a quick, but lingering kiss. "You already make feel so fucking good Vi." His hand sliding down my wet body with his fingertips pulling at the top of my bottoms, going in for another kiss it's filled with neediness. "This won't do." He mumbles against my lips, one hand letting go of my body he turns off the water. "Vi when I count to three you're gonna jump."

"Hell no." My automatic response. He can't carry me there is no way in hell he can. I'm fat, it would just embarrass me. I would crawl into a hole and never come out for the rest of my life. He taps on my chin. "I didn't ask." he says sternly.

Taking a step back he pulls me with him. My hands find their way now to my sides as he pulls me. It isn't long until I feel his hands on my upper thighs by my ass "Fuck." it comes out under his breath, it's raspy. It's my new favorite thing. He starts to count off.

"One"

"No you-"

"Two" digging the pads of his fingers in my skin.

"Can't"

"Jump"

He doesn't even give me time and he is pulling up on my ass practically making me accept and jump. My heart is racing a million miles a second. "Yoongi!" Turning to take us out of the shower, he is squeezing so hard on my thighs. How is he carrying me? "How about you get the door baby. My hands are a little full." He kicks the door with his foot. Unwrapping one of my hands leaning down as soon as I unlatch the door his foot is kicking it open hearing loud thud it hitting the wall. "You hurt my wall, you're payin."

"I'll do more than hurt your wall baby, looks like I'm buying the place."

Where did this Yoongi come from? It's thrilling. Exciting. I want to see more. He sits us on the small couch in my room, the curtains are drawn, the window cracked, and I'm on top of my childhood crush. My thighs are on either side of him looking down. I see how I encompass him. "I-I should get off."

"You're not going anywhere until you cum, wanna make you feel good." He has his hands on my upper thighs and in one of my most insecure places is the place where my thighs meet my hips.

"But-"

"But what?"

"The w-window."I stutter out.

"Good they'll get to see how fucking good I make you feel."

He's dirty, so dirty. I never expected this from him. He never showed any side like this to me, but I guess I would have never experienced anything close to this as friends. He pulls on me, making me move back and forth, I can feel myself pulse wanting more.

It's not my hand anymore, but my most private area on his length. He's getting hard with each stroke. So he wasn't even fully hard yet? I'm done for. His underwear and my suit bottom rubbing back and forth together a jolt of pleasure making me moan. I need to feel something. "Yoongi, kiss me." He doesn't waste a second letting one of his hands pull on my lower back making me fall into his chest locking our lips.

His hands making their way to my ass. "Fuck this ass." He says into my mouth pulling me in for more by biting on my bottom lip. He sets the pace with his hands, moaning into his mouth. I’m unable to keep kissing him, it's all too much. The ache in my clit wanting more. More. I feel so needy, like somebody who hasn't came in months. Yet I get myself off daily. "That's it Vi. Use me get yourself off baby." His voice is like no other I want to record for my ‘me time’.

Yoongi is a man of silent actions. I know this, everyone does if they pay attention long enough. But right now this isn't silent, his raspy, deep voice is consuming me. "You're doing so good, baby. I bet your little pussy wants to be filled." He really is after me isn't he?

"Yoongi," moaning out his name into his neck.

"Tell them how good I'm making you feel." He slaps my ass, it makes me jolt forward, I can even feel the point of where his head starts and ends to his length. Fuck what is with these underwear. Unable to hold anything in, I'm constantly moaning into his neck, gripping onto him for dear life.

It all happens so fast, the build up in my stomach, pulsing around nothing adding more to my aching clit wanting release. The feeling of him is taking me to my own heaven like in my dreams. I'm so consumed by him that I don't even realize I'm cumming until I start to shake on him, warmth filling my face, saying his name over and over.

He is still pushing back and forth, adding more overstimulation adding to the mess than I already am. "Yoon." it comes out as a whimper, a cry for more. For him. He groans, after one more grind he cums with the most earth shattering deep, raspy moan. "Violet." squeezing my ass as I'm sprawled out over him. His head is leaned back on the top of the couch, eyes closed, leaning up off his chest I tap on his chin making him look up at me. "Mhm" his lips part and the metal scrapes across his teeth.

Leaning down and locking our lips, as I do he just groans into the kiss squeezing my ass. We move in sync, both breathless but can't stop. When we finally do pull away sliding my thighs to rest more on his knees I look down and see the wet boxers filled with his cum, he isn't embarrassed or anything, just smirks and looks at me "Didn't think I'd cum in my pants ever again."

Looking at him confused. "Again?"

"I was a teen boy once. Secrets baby, now let's go wash that hair of yours" he taps on my knees. "Go heat it up, I'll be in there in a sec." Nodding my head in and pecking his lips one more time before getting up my legs feels like jelly, wobbly as I make my way to the bathroom.

Yoongi Pov:

Slinging my head back against the top of the couch once I hear the water cut on. When was the last time I enjoyed any sexual interaction with a woman, a long fucking time. Yeah I may get off but not like this. I came in my damn underwear like I did when I was a horny teen boy the moment they see any part of a woman. Call me pathetic but she felt so fucking good. I didn't even get the pleasure of seeing her whole body with my own eyes, but every millisecond I was mapping her body. She is the map of my whole fucking world.

"Fucking shit." The way her eyes rolled back when she let go, biting her bottom lip chanting my name over and over like it was the only word she knew. My semi hard could become hard as rock thinking about it again. I'm not a one round typa guy maybe- No Yoongi rein yourself in, aftercare she is the top priority. "You in the shower baby?" Yelling to her.

"Mhm yes!" her voice coming out feathery. I need to get outta these boxers if I'm gonna be in the shower with her again. Standing up feels like a chore. My legs are tense, my left ass cheeks twitching from the high. Walking over to her dresser the bottom drawer is mine, grabbing a new pair of black underwear, throwing it on the bed. Knocking three times on the door that's wide open, can't let habit break now can we? "You don't gotta knock Yoon." She lets out a little laugh that sounds like an angel, my own hell's angel.

"I'ma get new underwear, you need new bottoms so you can clean up?"

"Top drawer can you grab a pair of panties since every other suit is a one piece." I can practically hear the smile on her face. The top drawer? The drawer I'm not allowed in. I'll gladly take a peek. "Top drawer? Huh?" a smirk takes place on my lips.

"No looking to the right!"

"Okay, Okay Vi. I'll be back." I let out a deep laugh, walking out staring at the handle I have never gotten to pull open, the one that's been taunting me. As I slowly pull it open I see so many colorful underwear.

Fucking purple.

Guess this is one of the only colorful pieces of clothing she wears, and I'm more than okay with it. My brain will be now filled with what color she is wearing that day. Picking out a dark purple pair, just one peek. Pulling back a few pairs of the bright colored underwear I see her little friend.

It's pink I fucking knew it.

I smirk thinking about it dipping into her pretty pink pussy that I haven't even seen, the way her head would fall back as she cums, her pillow catching her now will be me catching her. Putting her panties back over her there must be more cause there is space cleared out, she didn't pack this one. Guess she can't hold back from her own mind for less than forty eight hours. Huh. That's fucking hot, was she gonna do when I'm away from her? Sneak into the shower. My mind is running laps thinking about her self indulging.

Walking into the bathroom covering my eyes "Here baby I'm setting them here take those off and clean down there first before putting them on. You better not clean any other part that's my job." from what I can guess, she nods letting out a little hum, I grab a washcloth from under the sink, turn on the sink wetting it a little, stepping out of the bathroom shutting the door to give her privacy.

Ridding myself of my own self, throwing my cum filled underwear in the laundry basket, wiping myself down with the cloth, and putting on new underwear. I take out clothes for both of us after the shower, she is getting my big black t-shirt and some light blue panties. What about pants? Nope I have seen it now I'll witness it whenever I want. As for me I take out a black sweat shirt and some back joggers, and another pair of underwear. Setting both on that sinful couch.

Walking to the door knocking three times "Can I come in?"

"Yeah!" she radiates happiness in her voice.

As I walk in it's still so steamy it fills my lungs, warm and thick air. The weight of what I just did hits me like a ton of bricks. Did I go too far? Did I make her feel like she had to? My steps are heavy walking to the shower rounding the glass wall, my feet making a splash. She turns around and faces me now In those dark purple panties, stepping forward closer to her resting my hands on her hips needing some kind of touch to comfort me. Tapping my fingers one by one on her skin. "Did I go too far? Did I push you? Make you feel like you had to?"

"Woah woah Yoon." She places her hand on my cheek.

"You didn't do anything of the sort. I wanted it, god I wanted it so bad. I have dreamed of you for so long." her voice comes off softly reassuring me

"Promise?" my bottom lip juts out a little as I pull my skin from my lip. This time I'm the one asking for some sort of promise, for relief to know I didn't make her feel any kind of way besides pleasure. She removes her hand holding out her pinky, nodding her head at it. I only remove one hand I need to feel her to keep me grounded. Latching my pinky with hers she places a kiss first on her thumb and as I lean in closing my eyes to kiss mine as soon as my lips hit my thumbs her lips hit my forehead.

Looking up at her, she smiles pressing our thumbs together sealing our promise.

"Pinky"

"Swear"

"God you're perfect Violet." She shakes her head no, squeezing her hip with all my grip she lets out a moan. "Say it. Say you're perfect. The deal, Violet."

"I-I'm perfect." she stutters out. Pulling her closer to me away from the shower running over her, leaning down pecking her lips. "Good girl, such a good girl." Whispering over her lips. Locking our lips one more time biting on her lip she lets out a moan. I don't think I can get enough. She will consume me if she stays. I know it, she already has.

"Now let's wash that hair of yours Miss."

She turns around in my arms, looking down I see her ass, I see my hand prints on her cheeks. Cheeky panties, good pick Yoongi. I smirk. I want my hand printed embedded all over her ass forever. Once they fade they need to be placed right back. She is mine. I'm possessive.

I reach and get a pump of her shampoo "lean your head back baby." my voice comes off softly to her. She leans her head back and I start to massage her head, releasing any pressure that might be occupying her. She lets out a satisfying hum. "You're hands are magic"

"You haven't even seen what all they can do baby" Letting it out a deep, raspy voice. She'll need to get used to it. Yoongi and Sir are two different people. "I think I'll die."

"But aren't we already in hell together?" I run my tongue ring across my teeth.

"Mhm you're right."

Looking around if I'm gonna have to turn her around to wash this, looking to the right she still keeps a fucking cup. "You still keep a cup." I say shocked, but also amused she would still keep it after it being so long.

"Never know when you are gonna pop in again daddy." she laughs. She did not just pull that card right now. I can't take it my dick is hardening, by just the first letter of that word. I reach down and get the cup, filling it with water letting it run down her hair. I'm not gonna give her a reaction, not yet at least. Conditioning her hair, lathering it up making it all nice and silky.

"All done, turn around baby." She slowly turns our eyes meeting as she opens them. "Thank you Yoon." Pulling her into my chest reaching down grabbing a pump of the body wash mhm vanilla, her vanilla. I start to rub the body wash all over her back, rubbing my thumbs into any knots I find, sliding my hands down to her ass, leaning into her ear. "I thought I was daddy. Sweets." Smacking her ass hard. Leaving my mark.

"Mhm Daddy." her voice sounds like honey so sweet and sticky, sticky to all parts of me surrounding me. "That's it baby." Daddy kink girls are for me. She is for me and I'll be her daddy, her Sir, anything she wants from me. "Give Daddy his fix." letting out a low groan afterwards tapping on her chin. "Please?" Oh my god she will be the end of me, sliding my tongue ring across my teeth I never submit let alone say please, but her. She is changing me.

Gripping her ass pulling her up "Please for daddy."

She doesn't waste a second and locks our lips, moving in sync together. She is the needy one this time I'm trying to keep up with her. Her tongue asks for access to my mouth, I allow it. I feel her tongue run across my tongue ring right after she lets out a small whimper into my mouth. Today is something I would have never imagined let alone even where we are today this past few weeks. To know I'm gonna be away from her for months I have now idea how I'm gonna make it.

Savoring the way her lips feel on mine, her body leaning into me, pulling away she lets out an angry whine. Fuck.

"Oh is someone angy?" She nods her head.

"Well that won't do." Going for her neck, attaching my lips, sucking, biting. Leaving my mark on her, she moans my name out. I think I just found my ultimate kink her moaning my name under my touch, the way she reacts to me. I haven’t ever done any sexual act for someone I like let alone love. Call me a fuck boy I'll admit to it gladly, but with her it's different. She's the girl that fills my mind, made my utopia homey, got me through the darkest times of my life without even knowing. She is and will be the only girl that will do this for me.

Even if this does not work out she holds that spot, always will but I'll go to hell and back before I let this go. Letting her go I look at the work of art I made on her. I smirk Admiring the purple and blue mark on her neck with my teeth mark indented into her perfect skin. "You're mine now."

"If you're mine also." We are both just two people wanting someone to call theirs. "I have always been yours, Violet from the day I was born. I waited for you, to meet you even if you weren't even on this earth yet our souls are connected." Pressing a kiss on her forehead. "It was empty until I met you."

Like a red string attached to us pulling us to meet and when we finally met the world lit up with fireworks, colliding our worlds. "Now let's go enjoy our night. Go on love, your clothes are on the bed waiting." I tap on her ass letting her go. "Okay I'll yell when I'm changed."

"You better." She laughs, stepping around me grabbing a towel off the rack, wrapping it around her body, opening the door, walking out, shutting it so I can clean myself up fully.

What the fuck just happened, I can't wrap my brain around it. The water now cold running over my body as I wash my body. I don't wanna rid myself of her. I want her on me forever, scared once she is gone I'll never have her on me again. I can't get wrapped up in my intrusive thoughts. It will happen again, it has to. Right?

Thank you for reading. ₊˚⊹♡

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All rights belong to @/Yoon-Topias. Do not copy/ translate.

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lostinfantasyworlds · 11 months ago

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Life Update

Heyyyy it’s been a while! I never really expect anyone to notice when I fuck off for long periods of time, but in case you did and happened to be wondering why I was mostly MIA for most of 2023, here's what I've been up to.

The short version: My husband and I sold our first house over the summer and bought our “forever” home! It worked out so much better than I could have hoped, but it turns out that prepping a house to sell and moving = lots of stress and chaos...which caused me to tumble off the deep end mentally for a while afterwards and I’m only just starting to recover.

---

Before I elaborate, I feel like I have to give a disclaimer because the last thing I want is to come across like I'm complaining or ungrateful. I'm very aware of how lucky and privileged I am to be a homeowner, so I am by no means asking for sympathy or trying to act like "buying/selling a house is so stressful, woe is me!" I understand that homeownership is a pipe dream for a lot of people, especially in the current economy, and I don't take that for granted. I'm genuinely grateful that I even have the opportunity to be stressed about something like this, but I can't deny that it was stressful.

If anyone is wondering how I managed to buy a house at all, I'm happy to answer that in a separate post. The abridged version is extremely lucky timing plus countless hours of hard work put into fixing up our first house that we bought for cheap back when the market was way more balanced (2016).

When I talk about the stress of last year, it's almost entirely in regards to my own mental health which is something I've always struggled with. I get overwhelmed VERY easily by regular life, let alone when I go through a major change (no matter how positive it is). Every big transition period in my life has triggered intense anxiety disorders and/or depression for me, so that's the main reason why things felt so difficult.

If you happen to be thinking something along the lines of "shut the fuck up, no one cares you were stressed, you're so privileged to even be able to own a house," ...believe me, I've already said to myself a million times. That is part of why I end up so depressed in the first place, because I feel like I “don’t have the right” when my life is so wonderful. But thanks to therapy I understand more about my mental illnesses and I'm trying to be less hard on myself now.

Still, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea 😅.

---

Anyways! If you want to know more about our house/see some pics, the long version with all of my rambling is below the cut!

The long version:

My husband and I bought our first house in 2016, right after getting married. It was conveniently located right across the street from where we had been living with 4 of our friends (which is how we were able to save enough money to buy a house), but it was in such bad condition that it didn't even meet the FHA minimum property standards so we had to use a special type of mortgage to purchase it. We always meant for it to a long-term flip, planning to live there while renovating it so that we could sell it after a few years and use the profit to buy a house that would be more permanent.

We put so much literal blood sweat and tears into that house. In the beginning we spent every single hour of our spare time fixing up the house. We do all renovation work ourselves because my dad and husband have experience with demolition, electrical, and plumbing. And anything we don't know how to do we just figure out as we go along. The only time we hired a contractor was to replace the roof that had extensive water damage.

(This is the water damage discovered down the whole back of the house a few weeks after we bought it 🙃)

(One before-and-after out of many to avoid making this post absurdly long. The contractors finished the ceiling when they did the roof but otherwise we did all the work on that bathroom ourselves, including moving the shower wall back 6 inches so that the shower door wasn't mounted to the window trim 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Over a few years we worked on remodeling each room until we eventually we got super burnt out, and then the pandemic happened and we both fell into a deep depression. Finally, in 2022 I got myself a therapist and started clawing myself out of the dark place I was in, and at the start of April 2023 we started prepping the house to sell. I had been watching the market steadily increase to absolutely insane levels and knew it was kind of a “now or never” situation, even though I still felt very fragile mentally so I was worried how I would handle such a large undertaking.

I never could have imagined just how amazing it would turn out. We truly couldn't be happier with our new home, it’s pretty much everything we were hoping for and I still can’t believe how lucky we are to have gotten it. I was prepared to have a hard time finding an affordable house. I had heard of all kinds of horror stories and the crazy competition going on in the market was intimidating. I thought we were gearing up for the long haul, and prepared myself for a lot of disappointment. Our house was the first house we put an offer on (the third one we looked at in person) and we somehow got it! It’s insane, I'm so fucking grateful.

The only catch is that it's a lot more of a fixer upper than we had originally planned on buying. I didn’t think that we would ever buy another house that required as much renovation as our first one did, because that shit was intense and we are now in our 30s and very tired 😂. But our new house has so many features that were on our “would-love-to-have-but-probably-won't-find-in-this-economy” list like laundry upstairs and an attached garage (also a pond??!?! We have a fucking pond and I love it so so much🥹). So we knew we could turn it into a home we’d love spending our lives in if we put in the work. Plus it was actually well below our budget (probably because of the condition it was in).

We decided to offer what we were willing to pay, which was well above asking but we still didn't think we'd have a chance because the market is so competitive. I don’t know if our real estate agent just worked some magic (she was amazing), but we were genuinely stunned when she told us we got the house.

(Our beautiful pond🥹 🥰)

After that, things moved SO fast. The timing made it overlap with the prepping/listing of our first home, which was really stressful to juggle all at once on top of our full time jobs. I thought selling was going to be the easy part since the market is so skewed towards sellers right now. And it did go amazingly well once we listed (64 showings and 12 offers in one weekend, fucking nuts?!?!!), but the months leading up to listing the house were CRAZY. I knew it would be a lot of work to prep the house since we had a bunch of unfinished projects, 4 open permits with the town that we needed to get closed, and had accumulated so much shit over the years, but I definitely underestimated how intense it would be, especially with the overlap of buying our new house. I had used up all of my PTO for the year by June in order to deal with house things and felt like I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown. I pushed myself way past my limits and knew I would pay for it eventually.

But we made it through the chaos and officially moved in July. Let me just say that I hope I never have to move again😵‍💫. It was 90+ degrees (F), 95% + humidity that weekend, and then POURING rain on the day of the move🙃. But other than that, everything went pretty smoothly! After a couple weeks of getting settled and sleeping in the living room, we started on the renovations in early August.

(Before and after of our living room that we are using as a hobby room for D&D, music, art, etc I love it so much!)

(Before and after of the downstairs bedroom which we use as our office)

We remodeled two whole rooms in about 6 weeks, which was wayy too much. We had been going nonstop since April and by the time we got to October, I hit a wall. Because my mental health was incredibly fragile to begin with, surprise surprise I ended up stuck in another bout of horrific burnout-fueled depression for a solid 2+ months after we finally paused to take a break. I've struggled with my mental health since I was a teenager, having periods of depression, panic disorder, and GAD on and off. Also over the past year, I’ve started to suspect that I may have undiagnosed ADHD so there's a lot going on with my brain. I've always been a very sensitive person, and my mental health is the first thing to suffer if I don't take care of myself.

I started feeling a bit better in December, but then things got crazy again with work and the holidays, so I ended up back in burnout land yet again. Now I think I'm finally starting to truly recover as I enter the slow season at work. We are easing back into renovations but I've been trying to take it as easy on myself as possible to avoid falling back into that dark place, which is why you haven't seen much of me on tumblr. It bums me out, and I often feel frustrated with my own limitations when I see everyone posting and chatting and creating and I want so badly to join in, but I sadly just haven't had it in me for a long time. But I'm still lurking and forever obsessed with InuKag and hope to be recovered enough to participate in fandom stuff more soon!

I've still been writing and drawing here and there whenever I get a bit of inspiration. I actually just finished an Inuyasha redraw that I'll be posting soon! I've also been writing a lot more recently, or at least thinking a lot about my WIPs😂. The main one I've been working on is If It Kills Me, which I am dying to share with you all. But it's a mystery/thriller/actiony type of story with plot points that still need to be figured out, so once those pieces fall into place I will hopefully be able to wrap it up. I'm going to be working on it a lot in February, so we'll see what happens.

I would love to share my other main WIP The First and Last this summer (since it's a summer-based story), but we'll see how things go. The next major renovation project is the kitchen 😵‍💫, so fandom things might have to sadly take a backseat again during that. But I'll still be lurking here and missing you all! ❤️

#personal #home renovation #update #I don't expect anyone to read this whole thing but thank you for listening to me ramble if you do xD #I'm an overexplainer sorry can't help it #anyways I missed being involved in the fandom last year so much #happy to finally feel regulated again #it was a busy year and my brain sucks but it was amazing

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chainofclovers · 1 year ago

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3, 15, and 30 for the ao3 wrapped! 💜

Thanks, friend!

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I think it's "Lavender II" (Beard/Rebecca/Ted, post-s3, Beard becomes a divorced dad and experiences an extreme bout of self-loathing and depression that Ted and Rebecca love him through). I worked really, really hard on it and learned a lot about writing. And tbh even though I wish more people saw the Beard/Rebecca/Ted vision in general, I was proud of the feedback this story got and was incredibly grateful for the conversations-in-comments.

I just really loved writing that story; it caused me to process a large number of things and this particular version of those three characters all became really dear to me. I had this idea of Ted and Rebecca approaching a post-canon relationship in a very optimistic and hopeful way, and coming up with this exciting plan to have a super awesome fun summer together with a totally unironic sheen of joy over everything, and for Beard to be in a very different headspace but very much invited to said summer, and it all unfolded from there.

I'm also really proud of "Just Missed You," the collab Beard/Ted podfic with @boglady, @podklb, and @rockinhamburger, but I'm gonna talk more about that one in another ask that just came in!

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

In a technical sense, quite a few, because I've got a variety of started-and-hope-to-finish stories hanging out in Google Docs right now. But the one proper definitive answer to that is a story that may not have a whole lot of words in it yet even though I started it in JUNE and my goal is to be brave enough to actually publish it on my (self-)assigned date for this year's Sexy Christmas collection, which is January 5. And that's all I'll say about that. :sweat-smile:

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

See question 3 and also the multiple other times I wrote about Beard and fatherhood! I had a very complicated but strangely thrilled reaction to Beard's s3 story and I have spent far, far, far more time than I could have possibly predicted at the start of the year just thinking about Beard being a dad and all the different ways it might look. I even wrote him as a person who becomes a dad via finding a baby in a train station before having the slightest clue he'd become a bio dad in canon! I (and/or I and my collaborators) have named Beard's baby Mirren, Magenta, Juniper, and Lavender so far! And I feel like I have the stamina to continue, lol.

From the ao3 wrapped ask meme.

#ao3 wrapped ask meme 2023 #about me #meme #asks #thesumdancekid #beard x rebecca x ted #beard x ted #hot dork club #ted lasso

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codysworld27 · 6 months ago

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You mentioned in a post that you joined the eddsworld 5 years ago, how did you find about this hellhole?

Well, next month it'll be 6 years since I've joined the eddsworld fandom.

When I was oh but a young lad I basically was always the weird kid because I enjoyed to be online rather than to socialize with people around me because I couldn't comprehend relationships (turns out it was autism but okay. Also, I got diagnosed with autism like 4 months before joining the fandom but okayyy) so I actually had seen some eddsworld content before (mostly through Tomska because that man raised me) but like I never jumped into it simply because I didn't feel like it.

In 2018 I had to move schools due to bullying and segregation (getting an autism diagnosis while studying in a very conservative christian school ain't a good idea) so I was in a new school and wasn't doing very well and it was sixth grade and honestly I was miserable af. Due to that I spent most of my time at the school's nurse or counselor office to avoid the noise and beatings during recess.

Well, there I would meet three gals who would become my first ever friends, we bonded over all of us being weird in our own way (turns out the four of us have autism) and we became very close.

On the 23th of August 2018 I was with high fever, I had gotten really sick but had exams so I had to assist school anyways, I entered the counselor's office and there the three of them were huddled watching something. I asked what they were watching and they told me it was eddsworld and that I should watch it.

I decided yeah sure why not and those three bastards showed me the end part fucking 2 as the first eddisode.

Like dude I did not understand a SINGLE FUCKING THING BUT I LIKED IT, like, I liked the animation, the characters (specially Tom, the moment I saw those eyes my brain activated and all I thought was omg 2D from Gorillaz) and all, so after that I started watching the series on my own.

I created my first ever eddsworld drawing that same day! While sweating profusely and sneezing so much I couldn't breath at times.

I was so fucking proud of this badboi.

I really got obsessed over eddsworld, to the point of me learning fluent English so I could read fanfiction about it, it didn't help that right after my birthday (about 4 days after finding out about eddsworld) I got even sicker so I had to rest for two entire weeks because I had a pneumonia or smt IDR... So basically I was bedridden so I used up all of that time to watch eddsworld, read fanfics and browse fanart.

That's also when I found out about Tumblr.

Honestly I'm glad I found out about eddsworld when I did because before I did I was so depressed I actually was planning to unalive myself at Halloween cuz it was my favorite Holliday but eddsworld gave me a reason to continue and thrive so in a way I... Owe my life to this stupid show.

#tw unalive #eddsworld #answers

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seafoamchild · 6 months ago

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i had another panic attack yesterday in the car on the way to the cacao farm. i'm not totally sure why. i just got super hot and starting sweating uncontrollably, felt tingling in my limbs, my whole body was clammy, and i thought i was going to be sick. i had to close my eyes even though we were driving through beautiful countryside and i wanted to see the landscape. i just kept telling myself that i'm in an adult body now and i don't have to be scared, i am safe.

examining my own psyche and confronting my past traumas has been a lonely experience. i feel isolated as i uncover the effects trauma has had on me. i know my pain is not unique, but it's a painful process to face things that have caused me so much anguish. i did not get to feel safe in my home while growing up. i had a volatile father prone to unpredictable and uncontrollable fits of rage, a mother who never stood up to him and made it our responsibility to "keep him happy", and a brother who was physically and psychologically abusive to me. i spent YEARS in hyper-vigilant fight-or-flight mode whenever i was around my family. i knew there was something wrong, but i always thought there was something wrong with ME, not my family.

i've been reading a lot about Complex PTSD and emotional flashbacks. it makes a lot more sense for what i've been experiencing. my mood swings always felt like something deeper than just depression or anxiety, but i could never quite figure out why i felt so bad, and why i felt so bad about my own existence in particular.

this article by Pete Walker resonated deeply with me. he writes about emotional flashbacks being "sudden and often prolonged regressions to the frightening and abandoned feeling-states of childhood... Typically they manifest as intense and confusing episodes of fear, toxic shame, and/or despair".

he also writes "toxic shame obliterates an individual's self-esteem with an overpowering sense that she is as worthless, stupid, contemptible or fatally flawed, as she was viewed by her original caregivers. Toxic shame inhibits the individual from seeking comfort and support, and in a reenactment of the childhood abandonment she is flashing back to, isolates her in an overwhelming and humiliating sense of defectiveness... When stuck in this state, they often polarize affectively into intense self-hate and self disgust, and cognitively into extreme and virulent self-criticism".

"Ongoing experience convinces me that some children respond to pervasive emotional neglect and abandonment by over-identifying or even merging their identity with the inner critic and adopting an intense form of perfectionism that triggers them into painful abandonment flashbacks every time they are less than perfect or perfectly pleasing".

i never knew about emotional flashbacks until recently, and i feel a sense of relief reading about them because that is precisely what i feel has been going on for all these years. i do ONE THING wrong and all of a sudden i can feel my heart sinking because i have once again proven myself to be a worthless, pointless waste of life who can't do anything right and doesn't deserve respect from anyone, much less love. i deserve to be hated, ridiculed, and abandoned. that's what my inner critic tells me.

it's a message from my inner child, letting me know that my wounds still haven't healed. i numbed my emotions as a child, and did not understand what was going on. but the emotions are still there, swelling up within me, begging to be addressed. what i really needed was for someone to tell me my emotions were valid, i was good enough just the way i was, that my needs were important too.

this process makes me tired because i just want to shut it all out and keep distracting myself with busyness and substances, but i won't. i wrote this down, for starters!

#journal

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the-fairy-dogmother · 2 years ago

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Tw; parent loss, childhood depression

...

Last week Dexter was sick, so we spent a large chunk of Friday in bed watching ocean documentaries.

I had one of those "core memory unlocked" moments where I remembered laying in bed with my dad when I was sick, watching natgeo and the discovery channel. He was Obsessed with nature documentaries/series. Pretty much if he was watching TV, that's what he was watching.

And then I remembered that when I was in first grade I had this book on dolphins that I must have read a million times because I distinctly remember sitting in the reading corner at school with it. I brought it with me from home.

It was in first grade that my dad was hospitalized, and he passed a year later. It's hard being depressed as a kid because you have no idea what's going on. I was only 7. I lost my love for the ocean in a sea of sadness.

Almost 30 years later it hits me like a ton of bricks where so much enthusiasm for aquarium keeping has come from, and why I dove so face first into saltwater. It's a childhood passion that I lost hold of, and I'm really delighted to have it back. I've been sick this week - flu level sick and totally stuck in a bed in a pool of sweat 🫠. Sexy, I know. But it's given me time to dive face first into consuming all of the knowledge I can. I have so many papers bookmarked, documentaries downloaded, and audiobooks in my library.

I'm planning out the aquarium with a fresh lens and rekindled passion and it just feels so good and so exciting, and also sad. I can't help but wonder "what if". What if I hadn't lost it? Would I have studied marine biology? Would my name be on these papers? Would I have moved on at some point? Who knows.

I do know that the current creature I'm researching most is octopods. So if anyone wants to open the Pandora's box of octopus information, ask me about octopods.

In the meantime, I'm ordering more macro for the hermits to snack on and looking at corals to do some shopping this weekend. Then deciding on which bottom dwelling fish I would like to add.

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weabooweedwitch · 10 months ago

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My sister woke up acting insane again today, i mean literally waking up and complaining we were wasting too many garbage bags and using that as an excuse to eacalate a fight, even texting us after we left after demanding we hurry and leave OUR OWN APARTMENT, rushes us back when we were just sitting at a park playing Pokemon and getting food, and one of the worst things?

she's been holding us hostage over THE HEAT. Something medically is wrong with her (not saying that as an insult, it's a fact, shes had a concussion before and maybe it damaged her ability to regulate her body temperature, or its her medicine, or something else) and we are both freezing and she says she's sweating and now she just insults us and says we're getting hot because we're high and fat and it's like. GIRL WE LITERALLY HAVE THERMOSTATS FOR OUR REPTILES CONFIRMING HOW COLD IT IS IN HERE

My poor crested gecko is having to live at his NIGHTTIME TEMPERATURE 24/7 because my physically aggressive sister is literally turning the heat off every single time we try and turn it on??? We arent allowed to control the heat in our own apartment and she doesnt even pay bills here???? Our floors are ICE COLD and she can't even feel it and says we're just imagining it??? AND insulting us???

Mom asks her to turn the heat own, the dial for which is under mom's desk, and my sister says for my mom to do it, while currently sitting at said desk, not moving

Just every day, she deliberately seeks out conflict? She starts getting better and then she starts talking to her, who even knows if he's her ex or what, and starts acting crazy

Yesterday she started an argument over the tiktok ban and said we were pro government censorship and all this other dumb bs and her and I went at it and what did she say? Turns to our mom, "someday you're gonna wake up and she's gonna have a knife in her throat"

Yeah well. While I was out with my mom today I suddenly realized she had an entire childhood of violent shit and spent a good chunk of time reminding mom what some of those things were. She's been wild for so many years we both have literally forgotten so much and when we sit down and talk about it we get depressed because she's. Literally still the same. And worse now.

Literally since we got home, we haven't even talked to her, been around her, she waits until we get home and suddenly, she's on the phone with a shelter, suddenly she "feels unsafe" despite the fact I've never physically threatened her and she's attacked me physically several times

And she's also just. I post on this blog but I'm anonymous and she'll literally share things about our family on her public Facebook because she's such an attention seeker she doesn't mind having her full name attached to her like.... starting high school level drama with the girlfriends of boys she used to date. Even our mom told me today she's been fucking embarrassed that her coworkers are gonna see all the embarrassing childish stuff my sister posts

All this girl can do is drink, do drugs, eat hot chip and lie 💀 please stay at the shelter, PLEASE

#family drama

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anislandofmyown · 1 year ago

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my new years resolution is to be kind to myself.

not nice: kind. i have spent years letting my comfort dictate all, holding my breath for the next time i will be comfortable. perhaps this is alright for a while. what is more human than the need to be comfortable? being depressed for years means you're likely to sink deeper into the mattress instead of lifting yourself out of it. chronic anxiety means you're more likely to avoid churning stomachs: school dances, honesty with your friends, drivers ed.

this is being nice to yourself. keeping your heart comfortably cradled in sweating palms is nice. never challenging yourself is nice. it is **not** kind. it does not allow for the heart to grow.

kindness is not allowing yourself to go to bed with mascara on even when you don't want to trudge to the bathroom. kindness is being honest with yourself about the reasons you're avoiding doing your laundry. and yes, kindness is working out.

the way i have been treating myself has not been kind. my skin is somehow both unmoisturized and oily. my body struggles to pick up the toddlers i care for every day. the meals i eat are not filling or satisfying.

my life is harder because i have been too nice to myself.

i suppose at the core of it, i've been waiting on something to start happening. life, i think. i wake up in the mornings and think "perhaps tomorrow, i will start life like everyone does in the movies." i wash my face before bed and wonder why living is taking so long to begin.

i think i'm just sort of a pro at waiting, at pointing to a day on the calendar instead of just penciling it in for today. who isn't? tomorrow is far more appealing than today, some vague point in the future better than now. but that's the problem. i have been pointing forward for so long, squinting at the horizon, that i have forgotten the view of my own feet on the ground, the worms fertilizing the dirt with their blessed squirming. the horizon is beautiful and appealing, but it is also impossible. you will never stop reaching for it. kindness to yourself is recognizing this and looking at the bootprints you make in the mud you walk in.

#diary #words #mental health #idk it's nice to get these thoughts out where someone can see #maybe no one will #but the thought that they could is comforting #fuck it #i'll tag it #creative writing

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myalgicpierrot · 1 year ago

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plain text: “We’re here to fight evil”

If "death rockers" My Chemical Romance say they're superheroes, then who is Blender to argue? We just don't remember Spider-man having so many problems with drink, drugs and swearing in front of kids. By Dorian Lynskey. Photography by Lego.

One day last August, Gerard Way boarded a plane to Japan with the gnawing conviction that he might not be coming back. Over the past year, the 27-year-old singer for the rock group My Chemical Romance had got it into his head that he had to be drunk to perform, and then needed Xanax to switch off his brain afterwards, and the combination was making him suicidally depressed. Way didn't like being suicidally depressed, so he'd often add cocaine to the mix. That's when his mood really got black. He spent the days before the flight saying goodbye to friends in New Jersey, just in case.

In Japan, Way spent all his time drunk. Before the final Tokyo show, he got so trashed on Heinekens and vodka tonics that he realized, even as he was performing, that he wouldn't be able to remember anything about it the next day. After he came off-stage he spent half an hour throwing up in a garbage can, until there was nothing coming up except bile. Tonight, he thought to himself, his hair caked with vomit, I've drunk my last drink.

"It was a vicious circle," he says matter-of-factly. "I needed it to function but it made me want to kill myself. It made me extremely unpredictable and dangerous to myself. I didn't want it to get to the point where it became like a VH1 Behind the Music where they show this really bad picture of me 30 pounds overweight, throwing up on the floor in Berlin. I didn't want that to happen to this band."

Way's cold-turkey flight back to the band's home of Belleville, New Jersey, was excruciating- almost 7,000 miles of skin-crawling, sweat-soaked willies. "I got really emotional outside the airport when we landed. I didn't know if I was going to see these guys again." He went straight to his therapist and booked into Alcoholics Anonymous, knowing that in the same week My Chemical Romance had to replace their drummer, film a video and start their tour. And you thought you'd had a hard week at work. "We got through the hard shit," says Way. "This is the easy part." /

Any fears last summer that My Chemical Romance were going to implode into obscurity were knocked flat by their swaggering teen-dysfunction anthem "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)." Inspired by the high school experiences of Way and his friends, it delivers angst-rock verities with a knowing wink, not to mention the kind of melody that ignites careers. The tongue-in-cheek video, filmed in the same L.A. high school as Donnie Darko, depicted MCR as proudly geeky misfits. It was a role that didn't require much rehearsal.

Way calls My Chemical Romance's music "death rock." Others have tagged it goth punk or emo. Some endearing individuals have overcome genre confusion by simply calling MCR faggots. "Our guitarist Frank met somebody who said, 'How do you feel when people stop liking your band because they find out you're gay?'" says Way, curling his lip with pointed amusement.

To the more meat-headed members of the Warped tour fraternity, some eyeliner and the occasional ambivalent lyric (in "You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison." Gerard sings "I'll kiss your lips again" to a male character) are too much to process, but Way hopes MCR can change a few minds.

"We've always tried to switch the way people think about rock bands," he says. "That [lyric] puts a dividing line between people. Are you on our side and you want to be different or are you on that side and you want to throw a football at my head?" Only a morbid former comic-book artist from blue-collar New Jersey could have hatched a band as toughly unorthodox as My Chemical Romance. Gerard Way writes the songs with his bandmates— his bassist brother Mikey Way, guitarists Ray Toro and Frank Iero, and new drummer Bob Bryar— but the vision is all his. He illustrates the record sleeves and defines their image. Recently he chose matching shirts, ties and armbands for the band to wear in the video for "Helena," taking enormous care not to resemble (a) the Hives or (b) the Nazis.

Most important, he's the one who assembled the band back in late 2001, when September 11 jolted him out of his rut as a struggling illustrator. On their 2002 debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, and last year's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, MCR yoke the thunder of punk to the black humor of Morrissey, Nick Cave and Tom Waits, and blaze with purpose.

"There are bands that are in it for the wrong reason, polluting the airwaves and filling their own pockets." Gerard growls. "Or just saying, Oh I wanna be a rock star. Right. You've got a lot of kids following you. What are you saying to them?"

So what are MCR saying? He's ready for this one. "We're saying it's OK to be messed up. There's other people just like you. And if we stick together we'll get through this."

—

When Gerard was still working in comic books, his favorite creation was The Amazing Goffo Brothers, Piano Movers Extraordinaire. A black comedy set in a creepy, anonymous city, it was a metaphor for the relationship between him and his younger brother, Mikey.

Despite their age difference (Gerard is 27; Mikey is 24), the Way brothers wore matching outfits as children. Today, the Ways arrive at a Midtown Manhattan restaurant wearing identical black jackets, but that's the only visible similarity. With his blood-red tie, ink-black hair and snow-pale skin, Gerard looks part Jack White, part Edward Scissorhands, and sounds as if he's been hanging out at the Bada Bing! club. His stick-thin sibling, meanwhile, wears oblong-framed glasses and the kind of candy-striped wool hat favored by fourth-graders and fashion stylists. He has the most extraordinary laugh: a shrill, girlish giggle that causes waiters to turn their heads.

They grew up in the predominantly Italian-American town of Belleville, in Sopranos country— the Pizzaland restaurant glimpsed in the show's opening credits is a few blocks from the house they still live in with their auto-mechanic dad and hairdresser mom. In Jersey, says Gerard, "There's a 99% chance you're not going to do anything with your life." Mikey yelps with pretend outrage.

"Well, 90%, maybe," his brother concedes in a deadpan drawl. "Every time I come back to Jersey, it's ready to put its tentacles all over me and suck me right back in. If I'm home for more than three weeks, I forget I'm in a band. I start to fill out applications for supermarkets.”

Is there anything good about the Garden State?

"I think it gives you a bleak outlook on life, which is awesome," says Mikey, cackling. "It gives you an edge. When you're from Jersey, people act like you're from Rikers."

Gerard nods. "Sometimes all we have to do is get up there, make some feedback and say, 'Yeah we're from Noo Joisey,' and then hit 'em like a bomb. People are like, 'Hey, I don't want to get beat up!'"

After high school, Gerard studied art and Mikey drifted his way through college: "I thought college was a place you went to find people to be in a band with."

Sometimes they played in bands together, but Gerard was more committed to becoming an artist, which was proving to be a disheartening process. When he eventually quit, his big project was a magic cartoon chimp called Breakfast Monkey. "I was doing bullshit," he shrugs.

After September 11, Gerard wrote his first song, "Skylines and Turnstiles," and played it to an old friend, drummer Matt Pelissier. Pelissier knew a guitarist called Ray Toro. "They played me their one song / and I was jumping around the attic and headbanging," says Toro, a genial, frizzy-haired film buff with a caricature of Alfred Hitchcock tattooed on his left arm. "Gerard sounded really sincere about wanting to start something real. That's what made me excited."

The members of My Chemical Romance aren't especially weird— it's not like any of them collect skulls or serial-killer memorabilia— but they all grew up with reasons to feel like outsiders.

Toro was a shy kid with an overprotective mother. Instead of going out with friends, he'd stay at home playing guitar to Iimi Hendrix or Metallica. Guitarist Frank lero suffered from bronchitis and ear infections and was ill almost constantly until the fifth grade. He was raised by his mom after she split from his dad, a musician who worked on records by John Lennon and Kiss. "I'm in the family music industry," he says. "My dad would ask me how school was, but mostly it was, 'When are you going to start playing?'"

Jazz-trained drummer Bob Bryar was an Illinois kid "who took apart radios and stuff and then tried to put them back together and realized they didn't work." He has a dark sense of humor that can sometimes come off as surliness. "I get these urges to fuck off sometimes," he says. "I find it hard to entertain myself."

Bryar befriended the rest of the band in 2003, when he was a soundman for the Used, whom My Chemical Romance were supporting. When relations with Pelissier deteriorated, he stepped in. The new lineup had just two days to practice before their next tour.

"I haven't relaxed in a long time," sighs Iero. "I look forward to that. I'd like to take a step back and look at some newspaper clippings."

—

The next morning, the sky is the color of a dirty washbowl and it's being emptied on New Jersey. Brian Schechter, My Chemical Romance's manager, taps at his cellphone as he steers his car through the damp, gray streets to pick up the Ways. We collect Mikey first.

"Did you see that MTV.com head-line?" he asks, still wearing his striped hat. "MCR Aim for Smashing Pumpkins Status.' It was out of context, but it's OK. It makes people think it's possible."

The band's destination is Philadelphia's Theatre of Living Arts. A local radio station held a competition between high schools to raise the most food for homeless shelters, the prize being an exclusive My Chemical Romance show. Considering the audience will be as young as 13, some adjustments need to be made. "We should probably have a PG show tonight," says Schechter. "We didn't do a show for charity just for Gerard to call them a bunch of motherfuckers."

It's a forlorn hope. "Put your fucking hands together!" cries Gerard within minutes of stepping onstage. In a black-velvet suit, red tie and black armband, he struts across the stage, wagging his finger to the lyrics or spraying mouthfuls of water over the front rows, while his band compress punk, metal, goth and glam into furiously concise pop songs. When he introduces "Headfirst for Halos" as "a song about suicide," you can almost feel the ripples of concern from the adult chaperones lurking around the edges of the room.

However, even they can't resist tapping a toe to "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)." Last night MCR played it on The Late Show With David Letterman. Tonight they're playing it to a couple hundred Philadelphia high school kids. Letterman was a highlight of their career to date, but it's here that the song makes most sense. "I didn't do my usual thing, where I compare high school to prison," protests Gerard later, sucking on a cigarette in a dimly lit backstage office. He admits he can see how people might get the wrong idea about MCR. "Journalists usually portray us as a fucked-up, dark, vampire, alcoholic rock band. Until they meet us."

Although he's got the charisma and the goth pinup looks to be an angst-rock martyr, Gerard seems too grounded to play the feel-my-pain card. Maybe it's the Jersey in him. Even when he talks about his therapist (a "rad guy" who turned him on to Brian Eno), he's pragmatic.

"If you're in this band, you're in it for the right reasons," Gerard declares. "You're not in it for money or fame. You're in it to do some good. Becoming more popular, it's like people are granting us superpowers and we have to use them to fight evil."

Is that the comic books talking?

"Oh yeah," he says, his grin a pearly sliver in the gloom. "We're like the Doom Patrol."

—

You from Joisey? I'm from Joisey! My Chemical Romance are but the latest stars to emerge from the swamps of the garden state… By Steve Kandell Martha Stewart: What Exit? 150 (Garden State Parkway) Bada-Bing! The home-decorating wingpin learned everything about tea cozies and insider trading as a child in suburban Nutley. TELLTALE SIGN OF JERSEYNESS: Conspiracy? Obstruction of justice? Multiple indictments? You can take the girl outta Jersey, but… John Travolta: What Exit? 71 (Rt. 95) Bada-Bing! Don't let the Malibu estates and the Scientology mumbo jumbo fool you: Travolta's straight outta Englewood. TELLTALE SIGN OF JERSEYNESS: A lifetime of breathing toxic Jersey air prepared him well for The Boy in the Plastic Bubble. Aaron Burr: What Exit? 15 (NJ Turnpike) Bada-Bing! Thomas Jefferson's Newark born vice-president killed his archival Alexander Hamilton during a duel in Weehawken in 1804. TELLTALE SIGN OF JERSEYNESS: Only a veep from Essex County would handle a political beef Tony Soprano-style. Buzz Aldrin: What Exit? 148 (Garden State Parkway) Bada-Bing! The second man to set foot on the moon was born and raised in Montclair. TELLTALE SION OF JERSEYNESS: No one better illustrates the lengths to which some people will go just to escape N.J. Shaquille O'Neal: What Exit? 15 (NJ Turnpike) Bada-Bing! Before becoming the NBA's most dominant center and starring in Kazaam Shay grew up– way up– in Newark. TELLTALE SIGN OF JERSEYNESS: Shaq recently warned former teammate Kobe Bryant that charging the lane against him might result In physical unpleasantness. He sure didn't learn the art of the threat from playing in Orlando.

Photo captions: Makeup by Andie Markoe-Byrnes for Kiehl's. Left to right: Tank by Calvin Klein. Shirts by Nautica. Pants by Dickies. Boots by Dr. Martens. My Chemical Romance (left to right): Mikey Way, Ray Toro, Gerard Way, Frank Iero, Bob Bryer. "Just dial 1-800-CRAZY-CULT." My Chemical Romance are sponsored by Tie Rack. Martha with a present for her cellmate, "Big Irma." Aaron Burr. And that's his good side!

[transcription note: page breaks indicated by "/" and section brakes indicated by "—". Text on pages 92, 94, and 95.]

blender, april 2005

words: dorian lynskey photos: ray lego / ethan miller

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mrsmarlasinger · 2 years ago

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(CW: anorexia/disordered eating, medication abuse, depression, death ideation)

I spent last week in Texas on vacation with my parents and sister (yeah, during the record-breaking heat wave). It was nice: eating twice a day, having dessert, eating out, trying pastries. Walking tons and wearing huge T-shirts and men's gym shorts every day, so I didn't have to feel too guilty.

Then I came home and was instantly convinced I'd gained an impossible amount of weight.

On top of that, I've recently realized that the coughing fits that have been getting progressively worse and steadily ruining my stupid life for the past 6+ weeks, finally culminating in me waking myself and my family up 4–5x per night to cough during our vacation...are an asthma flare-up, and one best treated by the five days of Prednisone my doctor prescribed me when I got really sick a few months ago.

(Which I never touched, because apparently, corticosteroids can cause weight gain through appetite increase and insulin suppression. Terrifying.)

Yesterday, after days of acute consternation, I finally succumbed and started the damn Prednisone. Like magic, almost immediately after my very first dose, my cough improved tenfold. Crazy how the medicine your doctor prescribes you actually works sometimes!

So.

The vacation. The steroid. The body dysmorphia.

Well, I've never once had trouble with my asthma until I got sick earlier this year, so I only use my rescue inhaler once in a blue moon. I've got years' worth of old albuterol lying around my room. Not like that shit expires and loses effectiveness after a year or anything.

Decided to kill three birds (the asthma, the albuterol surplus, and the so-called weight gain) with one stone. Decided to eat nothing for two days and abuse stimulants all the while.

Decided that if I did this, I could enjoy my family's annual Fourth of July BBQ (the first one my partner, posing as my "bestie" for my homophobic father, could attend!). I'd have fun and dress cute and talk to people and eat barbeque and desserts, and I wouldn't feel guilty at all, because I'd have budgeted for it.

Having been too scared to consume more than an anxious grazing session in the pantry on Sunday, I skipped food on Monday. Oh, god, I think I slammed at least half an old inhaler that day. Got so comically sick, so ridiculously dizzy and jittery, I started laughing at my trembling reflection in the bathroom mirror. Jesus, I don't puff this much albuterol in an entire year.

Despite the melatonin I took, my usual killer insomnia struck again last night (I'm sure the steroid and albuterol didn't help). I was up all night and only fell asleep long after the sun had risen, nauseous with exhaustion and aching with hunger.

Slept four hours. Woke up midday. Took my damn Prednisone.

Started tossing back albuterol and Benzedrex like there was no tomorrow. Slonked nearly half a gram of caffeine via zero-calorie drink drops.

All on an empty stomach, alone in my room.

Already I'd fasted more than the 48 hours planned. My heart rate skyrocketed from its usual 60–80 bpm to 125 bpm. I was fucking wired, jittery, anxious and nauseous and sweaty, shaking like an old lady's purse dog. My joints hurt. My dizzy head was pounding. A sort of awful feverish heat radiated from my poor quivery flesh.

It occurred to me that I felt exactly like I had that time I snorted [redacted]. Never thought my shitty, slapdash little stim stack could hit me this hard. I felt so sick I thought I'd puke or pass out or both.

All I could do was chant, "I'm going to die. I'm going to die" under my breath, then suck down another musty, powdery hit of expired albuterol.

But hey. I could see the weight I'd lost in those 48+ hours of hell.

What does it matter if I never came down for the party, never had a burger hot off the grill, never talked to anyone, just got progressively wired in my bedroom until my hand shook so bad I fucked up my lipstick?

Eventually my partner arrived and held my sweating, trembling wreck of a body, making nervous note of my tachycardia and hyperventilation as I repeated, over and over, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

When I felt a little better, we went to root through the leftovers, and I proceeded to low-/medium-restrict on a mini kids' Clif bar, three slices of watermelon, two spoonfuls of pasta salad, and, for some fucking reason, a glazed doughnut. Panicking all the while.

And yeah, sure, I ruined my day, but what's new? I'm ruining my pathetic excuse for an existence too. All in pursuit of, what, becoming more underweight than I already am? Destroying my body more than I already have?

For a spoiled, privileged, rich little white girl without a responsibility under the sun, my life sure feels like a goddamn living nightmare.

I'm so upset.

I'm so sad.

I'm so angry.

I'm angry at the world, because what the fuck did I do to deserve chronic anorexia? I of course believe that I'm a nasty little bitch who deserves the worst of all things, but god, even I don't deserve this. No one deserves this. Anorexia is cruel and unusual punishment for the crime of possessing a tangible form. I'm only 22, and I've dealt with this bullshit for, what, seven years now?

I'm so sad. I'm so sad. I'm so cripplingly, earth-shatteringly sad.

I fasted and slammed stimulants for more than two days so I could enjoy a once-a-year party with my family and our friends (the cringe of American nationalism notwithstanding), only to starve and panic and isolate myself anyway. Now I'm hungry and sick to my stomach, parachuting kratom like it'll fix things. Like eating toilet paper and fake opiates will nourish me. What was it all for? What the fuck is any of this for?

It's not worth it. None of this is worth it. I'm miserable, spiraling. I can't work. I can't function. I'm out of control. It's not my rock bottom by a long shot—hell, I haven't even gotten my lowest weight back—but it sure feels like it. This is hell.

I just want to eat. I want to eat. I want to eat. I want desperately to eat. Please, god, let me eat. If I can't eat, let this vile disease kill me already. I want to eat. I'm so unwell. I want to eat. I'm so, so sick. I want to eat. I want to eat.

Please.

God. God. God. God. God. God. God.

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xocontinentaldrift · 2 years ago

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monthly report: january 2023

Wowza, I can't believe a month has already flown by. After a rough start of my kiddo getting stomach fly on New Year's Day, I spent most of the month just catching my breath and easing into the new year. It was a good call not to put too much pressure on myself.

Ironically, it was a productive month anyway, with lots of happy-making moments and accomplishments:

Revised about 1/3 of my novel

Took a lot of outdoor open air walks despite the snow and cold

Started to go out for dinner every Friday night with the family

Decluttered a lot of papers and some books

Mastered making falafel in our Instant Pot air fryer

Talked with my best friend on the phone a few times

Spent more time with my parents with my kiddo

Did a little more strength training in the mornings, experimenting with doing pushups everyday (because a few times a week makes it hard to track, it's easier for me just to do them everyday)

Bonded with our new kitty and she seems happy and well-adjusted in our home, and she is so snuggly!

Began getting to bed at a reasonable hour (before midnight is a huge accomplishment for me.)

Participated in some fashion challenges via my favorite fashion forum on Reddit

Read a lot of books

Began planning the little guy's birthday party next week, which is NOT a fun task for me, but I booked the location, put down a deposit, sent out invites, managed the RSVPs. Next up: figuring out food, transport/pickup logistics, ordering the cake, sending out reminders

Bought a nice lounge bed roll from Natural Life that makes my home so much more cheerful, funky and comfy

Paid all my bills!

Trucking along in my Duolingo French course -- I'm determined to finish the Intermediate 1 course by mid-year

However, the month had its difficulties and sticking points:

Some instances of mindless spending

Yelling a few times at my kiddo, especially when I was burned out at the beginning of the month coming off the busy holiday season

Conflict with partner over who does what in terms of house/life shit. The problem is that I feel all the work I do is never seen as the work that it is, it's just written off as "easy" and inconsequential.

Thought it got better at the end, my sleeping patterns were off, and I've begun waking up in the middle of the night. (Thanks, perimenopause!) Gotta figure something out because it really does bite into quality of life.

BORED AT WORK. Can't figure out if the responsibilities, the need for a new direction, or just the drab isolation of working from home in the middle of winter.

Inconsistent exercise when it's sub-zero temps. I mean, part of me thinks I can give myself some slack on this, but it does affect my overall sense of well-being

Having moments of feeling super, super depressed right before my period. It's not even just sad -- it's like my brain just can't feel good in any way, and I feel really despondent and hopeless in a way that doesn't feel right. Sometimes I wonder if I have PMDD. Something to think upon, I guess.

Just that general feeling of being in a hamster wheel, running furiously but with no real movement forward. Spinning my wheels. File it under "existential mid-life malaise."

So that's my roundup of January 2023. Not a bad month, I must say. I'm really looking forward to February 2023's goals and resolutions:

Keep revising my novel! I'm really making a lot of headway at the moment, maybe because I've hit a decent patch of storytelling

Getting ready for my writers group to start up again

Planning my kiddo's birthday party, it's gonna be a banger, lol

An old friend will be in town from London, so I'm looking forward to seeing her

Talking regularly on the phone with my best friend from college

More Friday night dinners as a family

Making myself get dressed in real clothes instead of being in sweats all day -- too easy to do in the winter, for sure!

Focusing my reading on books on relationships, parenting, love and marriage, and also incorporating more fiction

Cleaning out my closet once again and sending a box of clothes to ThredUp

Getting a shoe storage cabinet for my dining room

Getting to bed before midnight most nights -- ideally asleep by 11:30pm, but let's be realistic that this might not always happen

Cleaning out toiletries and makeup bag

Wearing perfume everyday -- I have a lot of scents that I need to use and use up and use out

Making an appointment to meet with a new OB-Gyn -- might delay this till March

Taking walks outside as much as I can

Going out to work at a cafe or some place like that at least once a week

Trying out 2-3 new recipes this month as a challenge. I don't care too much about being the ideal housewife, but for my own sake, I need to try some new recipes

Start re-creating an official website/social media professional presence again...which means paying off Dreamhost, ugh.

Maybe look into estimates for redoing kitchen floor

Start planning outdoor landscaping miniprojects, like planting new boxwoods on my side garden beds

Ok, that's getting a little too ambitious; I'll revise this as needed. Here's to a lovely February full of peace, inspiration, liberation and the divine feminine!

#dailylife #inner life

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mrs-cavill-wife · 4 years ago

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𝕀'𝕝𝕝 ℕ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕖𝕥 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔾𝕠(One Shot)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader

Warning: Angst. Language. Age Gap. Anxiety. Distance Relationship. Depression. Fluff. Tell me if I miss something.

Author's Note: First of all, I feel like after reading that, you guys will have questions if has something to do with Henry's personal life, if I hate this or that, what I think about certain things and I really don't want to bring haters. I have my opinion, people may agree and people may disagree, that's life. Second, this one, I can say, it's quite personal cause I deal with anxiety and depression and went through situations that gave me inspiration to this one. Third, I woke up with this song on my head and thought it would match so it is also a inspiration to this fanfic, I've been a huge fan of Justin Bieber, I know he has a few haters but please don't hate me for that lol yeah, it's a long ass note, I'm sorry. Hope you guys enjoy it and if you do, please like and reblog it! DM or Comment if you want to be on taglist! I'm all ears to feedback and suggestions!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Buzz Buzz Buzz. I woke up startled by the vibration over my belly. It was my cell phone. I sighed looking at the ceiling, the place, my feelings, easing the situation.

The sheets were wet, stuck to my skin because of the sweat, but despite that, I was covered with a thick sheet, the weather were fine but everytime I go through those emotions, it affects me, not just mentally and emotionally but also physically and last night, I felt so cold. My arm was around his pillow, which I made a point of spraying with his favorite perfume last night. It was one of those difficult nights and I needed to feel him close somehow.

I spent the night on Instagram, watching news on gossip sites. Of course I shouldn't do that, he told me it wasn't a good idea, he don't wanted me wondering things and after all, it wasn't helping me at all, every time I saw a picture of them together, even though I was fully aware that it was just a scene, it was like a strong blow to my heart.

Oh no, oh no, oh

They say that hate has been sent

So let loose the talk of love

Before they outlaw the kiss

Baby, give me one last hug

Dating one of the most coveted celebrities in the world is perhaps one of the biggest challenges of my life. Or maybe the only one, because I have in mind that my life has never been the most productive. I'm only 19 years old, I have a whole life ahead of me, I can do a lot if I want to but I'm not very proud of my past, it may not seem like I didn't try to change, but when you deal with panic, anxiety and depression, the simplest things become a huge ass battle.

Many years ago, I always had difficulty in school, learning was always a challenge, I had a lot of difficulty focusing on classes and even more difficult to make friends, for me, I would be alone all year if no one tried to get close, I never managed to give the first one step. I managed to finish school, but middle school was where everything really started to fall apart. I had no friends, I talked to everyone but they were just classmates. I started to miss classes and one fine day, I gave up, however for a lot of my mother's teaching, I continued studying at a distance, at least to complete high school and succeeded. However, I spent about two years, doing nothing besides sleep and eat, until I decided to try to go to college. I tried, for three months, it seems little, but for me, it was a lot. It took a lot out of me, I really couldn't handle it. Whenever it was time to go, I felt that nervous, cold sweat, I couldn't even move. It hurted me to give up again, especially for my mother, seeing her suffer made me feel worthless and selfish.. so, again, I spent several years doing nothing in my life, this time, nothing that my mother tried, worked.

There's a dream that I've been chasing

Want so badly for it to be reality

And when you hold my hand

Then I understand that it's meant to be'

Cause baby, when you're with me

She started to think that I needed a new environment, new people and experiences and then, she said that I could choose somewhere to spend some time. I chose London. I traveled alone, and for the first time, there was some peak of happiness inside me. I was living in a hotel but my mornings boiled down to hot coffee as I enjoyed watch people living their productive lives in Hyde Park. And then, for several days, a handsome blue-eyed Brit with a big dog always by his side caught my attention. Of course I knew who he was, I'm kinda nerd, I loved superheroes and Superman was one of my favorites, and of course my legs shook every time our eyes met and how he smiled awkwardly as he looked away. It started like this until he got close, then we jumped in for small conversations, until he called me for lunch at his house, where our first kiss happened, until we became close friends and I became Kal's babysitter sometimes when he couldn't take him to work or needed to take a trip. And after years, I'm here, at the home of Henry Cavill, a celebrity and my boyfriend. It was a shock for my mother to know that we were going to live together, I actually never had a boyfriend but according to her, I showed happiness and confidence, and she was overflowing with happiness to see me like this so she trusted on him.

Again, dating a celebrity is not easy. It sounds bipolar but I don't care much about what others think or say, but yes, still other people's opinions can affect me a lot. So, we decided to keep our relationship between the two of us, he had relationships where the fans could fall on top with false accusations, malicious words and even threats. It was difficult for me, but I had confidence in Henry and I opened up about my insecurity problems and it was the reason for our decision, he was afraid of what these people could do to me mentally.

It's like an angel came by and took me to heaven

Like you took me to heaven, girl'

Cause when I stare in your eyes, it couldn't be better

I don't want you to go, oh no, so

But now, with, people thought he was single, which didn't bother me, but his managers wanted something to spice up his career, so now, for the media, he's dating an actress. It was all staged, as some call it, it's a PR relationship, paparazzi are hired to picture them everytime they hung out together, tabloids are paid to talk about rumors, they would post about each other on social media. And me? Why I'm handling it? He asked me too, many times. I would try my best to look fine and strong but he knows it's not easy to me. That's the main reason of why I barely slept last night, seeing all this mess on the internet. Torturing myself like I'm some weirdo masochist.

Let the music blast, we gon' do our dance

Bring the doubters on, they don't matter at all

'Cause this life's too long and this love's too strong

So baby, know for sure that I'll never let you go

Henry called nights before, like he always would do when he's away, even with his complicated schedule, he would always find some time to me. On our last conversation, he had a good and bad new. The good new? he's were coming back home in few days, coming back to me and Kal. The bad new? in few days, the tabloids would be on fire about new candids of them hanging out together, again. I was aware of every move, he would always tell me, without many details cause he knew it would hurt me but often, our conversations would end lead to "You sure that you want to be with me? You deserve better, I'm not even always by your side when you need the most". Partially, yes, it's truth but it's his life, he had to do certain things and I trust him, I love him, more than everything I've loved in my whole life. I am insecure? Hell yeah. He had been on PR relationships before us, it's business but I mean, this woman knew about me but of course they kinda became friends and she, damn, she's gorgeous, bombshell body, a whole career, popular, four years younger than him.. and me? I'm.. normal? My body is okay, I have no occupation at moment, I hardly finished middle school, no friends, nineteen years younger than him.. I know it's all fake but see your man with another person and the world loving it, yeah, it's hard.

I got my favorite girl

Not feeling no pain, no fear

Don't have a care in the world

Why would I when you are here?

I threw my phone on bed, I knew it were full of shit about him and "his girlfriend". I lead to shower, took off my Chiefs shirt, in fact, his shirt, was another way of feel him closer whenever he were away working. I got into the shower ready to get rid of the sweat of my body and I felt the chill when the warm water hit my head running down through my sensitive skin. That's all a shit, I have to say.. I need him, I want him, I love him with all of me but sometimes, I wish it were easier. I couldn't handle, I wrapped my arms around myself, leaned my forehead against the cold wall and started crying, wishing with all my strength to take my pain away together with each tear that ran down from my eyes.

There's a moment I've been chasing

And I finally caught it out on this floor

Baby, there's no hesitation

No reservation by taking a chance and more

Oh no, because

I stayed there for a few seconds, lost, stuck and drowning into my fears, stupid thoughts, insecurities, physical and emotional pain.. actually, not sure how long I stayed there but I woke up from my sadness when firm hards grabbed my waist, that familiar touch, his nose rubbed against my shoulder leaving a gentle kiss making me feel goosebumps from head to toe. Felt like Sleeping Beauty waking up from her curse.

"Henry!? I thought you would come this Saturday.."

I said low, trying don't sob and he wrapped tight his arms around me.

"I wanted to surprise you"

It's like an angel came by and took me to heaven

Like you took me to heaven, girl'

Cause when I stare in your eyes, it couldn't be better

I don't want you to go, oh no, so

He turned me around and I looked down. He saw me crying before, through breakdowns, nonsense insecurities, a silly movie.. but this time, he knew it was about us, about me accepting something, nobody with a few working brain cells would really accept but who said love is sane, right?

He touched my face and lift it, making me stare at him. And again, that bad sensation on my heart, I was sad for causing sadness on him, I could see how hard it were for him too but I would never ever ask him to give up of his dream because of me, I'm not worthy of such effort and I have no right to ask him anything like that.

Let the music blast, we gon' do our dance

Bring the doubters on, they don't matter at all

'Cause this life's too long and this love's too strong

So baby, know for sure that I'll never let you go

He softly pecked my lips then unwrapped his arms grabbing my soap then softly rubbing and spreading it all over my body. His touch. That was enough to make me forget my snuggles, at least for a few seconds, the arch on my heart had stopped.

After he wash my body and my hair, he grabbed a towel and helped me to wipe it. Wrapped the towel around my body after wiping his, and naked, he went behind me, tightly with his arms around my shoulders leading us to our room while he spread soft kisses on my neck.

It's like an angel came by and took me to heaven

Like you took me to heaven, girl'

Cause when I stare in your eyes, it couldn't be better

I don't want you to go, oh no, so

On bed, I saw for me some clean panties and his iconic blue shirt that made me smile, next to those, his underwear and some sweatpants. He grabbed my panties before sitting on bed, stretched his hand to hold mine and put it on his shoulder to support myself while I stand between his legs and helped me to wear it and his blue shirt. After that, he made me sit on bed and sat behind me, using my towel now to wipe excess water from my my hair, he got my brush, softly started combing it. During the whole process of helping me on bath, then to get dressed and untangling my hair, the tension of my body started to leave like smoke, my heart started beating again without haste, my hands and feet wasn't sweating cold, my nerves could relax, my soul wasn't feeling lonely anymore.

Henry finished with my hair and I felt he moving away, he wore his underwear, his sweatpants then laid on his pillow and patting his chest. I laid on his body, between his legs, with my head right on his naked furry chest, closing my eyes, curling myself like a little abandoned kitten and listening to his heartbeat. My favorite song. Feeling his unique male heartwarming essence and he put the sheets on top of us and again wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight and firm, making me feel safe again, making my doubts about us and me to disappear as his soft fingers caress the skin of my arm. We stayed like that for a while, in silence, just us and our love.

"Shhh don't even cry anymore, I'm right here for you, from head to toe, from my soul, to my heart and body, all for you"

Take my hand, let's just dance

Watch my feet, follow me

Don't be scared, girl, I'm here

If you didn't know, this is love

I felt his body moving under me, like he strength to grab something and a little "crack" noise, like something opening but I don't even bothered to check, I was feeling peace. And I felt his hand on my right hand, thought he was playing with my fingers like he used to do, until I feel something different slide on my finger. I opened my eyes lifting my hand and what I saw made me swallow empty. My eyes were locked on the heart shaped blue aquamarine, shining just like his eyes.

"Henry.. I.. w-what's that? what does that mean?"

Let the music blast, we gon' do our dance

Bring the doubters on, they don't matter at all

'Cause this life's too long and this love's too strong

So baby, know for sure that I'll never let you go

He smiled while I looked at him static but with no expression at all. He pecked my temple, wrapped his hand on mine, intertwining our fingers then sightly pecking the ring on my hand.

So don't fear, don't you worry 'bout a thing

I am here, right here (I'll never let you go)

Don't shed a tear

Whenever you need me, I'll be here (I'll never let you go)

"I saw that on a store I passed by, I immediately thought bout you. Babygirl, it means that I love you. It means that I know how hard it is for both of us, specially for you. It means that I feel like the worst person by making you go through that but also means that I can't explain how blessed I am for having you by my side through that, how proud I am of you for finding strength and keep going when your heart feels sad and your mind create more insecurities. It means I don't feel worthy of your efforts or your tears but you're a angel on my life and I want to be your heaven. It means that no matter how hard the obstacle is, we can go though that as long as we are together. It means that no matter what happens, as you do for me, I'll never let you go."

Oh no, oh no, oh

I'll never let you go

Oh no, oh no, oh

I'll never let you go

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x reader #henrycavill rp #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x you #henry+cavill+fluff

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