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gay-otlc · 3 years

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Monsters- Chapter ב

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Summary (changed from last time btw): Eyphah has monsters in hir head. How much do the monsters have to control hir life before ze becomes the monster?

Content warnings: OCD/intrusive thoughts/trich, religion, cursing, low self esteem, violence, lmk if I need to add anything.

Playlist (if anyone’s curious)

Word count: 1762

“Monster,” ze whispered to hirself again, as ze walked through hir door. Ze swallowed and put on a fake smile. “Shoshanah! I’m home!”

No response.

Heart thundering, Eyphah rushed across the hallway and up the stairs, footsteps echoing loudly. “Shoshanah!” ze yelled again, ripping the door open. The lights were off, bed empty, sheets slightly ruffled. Hir eyes flicked around wildly until they fell upon a sheet of paper resting on the nightstand.

Eyphah exhaled, grabbing it.

Eyphah-

I know you get worried when I’m not here, so sorry to worry you, but I had to fill in for Yakov at the hospital. I won’t be home until late, so you can have dinner without me. I’m alright and I love you!

Love,

Shoshanah.

“Fucking idiot,” Eyphah muttered, setting the note down and rubbing hir temples. Why did ze have to freak out every time Shoshanah didn’t answer immediately? Why did the monsters in hir head have to fill it with images of Shoshanah lying in her bed, unable to move, dying before hir eyes- or already dead.

And ze was still fucking anxious. “She’s okay,” ze muttered again, shaking hir head. Hir eyebrows itched. A lot, like the fear of stabbing someone with hir sword and finding Shoshanah dead had all physically manifested in hir left eyebrow, needing to be extracted from hir body.

Ze pulled.

And pulled again.

And then wrapped hir hands behind hir back and sat on them, determined not to pull again.

And pulled again.

“I fucking hate you!” ze yelled at hirself. Frustrated, ze stood up and grabbed hir notebook, opening it to the most recent page.

Reasons I don’t want to die:

I want to learn the new sword move.

I love Shoshanah

Shoshanah loves me

Maybe I’ll find a new ahav

No babka when you’re dead

NO RUGELACH WHEN YOU’RE DEAD!

The thought makes me feel sick

I don’t want to die

I don’t want to die I don’t want to die I don’t want to die

Eyphah remembered writing that. Ze’d been baking; latkes, was it? It was Tammuz; last month, and one of the summer ones, but ze hadn’t wanted to let the wrong season stop hir from enjoying latkes. The rest of the memory was a bit blurry. Ze opened up hir drawer to get a spatula and flatten the latkes, but hir gaze fell upon a knife.

Ze imagined grabbing the knife instead of the spoon.

Ze imagined quickly thrusting the knife into hir chest.

Ze imagined bleeding out on the floor, Shoshanah coming to discover hir body and screaming.

Eyphah hadn’t opened that drawer since, nor had ze baked.

It was sad. Ze used to love baking.

Baking and sword fighting; those were hir favorite things to do for fun, but the monsters in hir head made hir terrified of that. What would happen next? Would ze have to avoid Shoshanah, someone she liked to do for fun as well?

Do you even love Shoshanah? Or are you just her ahav out of pity?

“SHUT UP!” ze screamed, and wrote down ten reasons ze loved Shoshanah.

The way she bites her lip and looks down when she finds a joke funny but doesn’t want to admit it’s funny.

Her kisses. She tastes like strawberries.

The way her eyes light up when someone calls her a girl.

The little twirl she does when she wears a dress.

Her singing voice for Havdalah prayers.

Her determination to help others.

When she talks about picking her name and has this sweet little smile on her face.

The way she flaps her hands when she’s happy.

How her hand fits in mine perfectly.

Her laugh, like sunlight.

When Eyphah was thoroughly convinced ze actually loved hir ahav, and wasn’t just faking it and toying with her feelings out of some sick sadism, ze threw the notebook down and paced across the room, trying to release the nervous energy bubbling up inside hir.

Normally, when ze had this buzz of energy, ze tried to get it out by practicing with hir sword. But that wouldn’t work now, would it?

Convenient.

Until hir stomach rumbled, ze had no idea ze was hungry, but ze gratefully accepted the distraction of going to get food. Ze was good at baking, but terrible at cooking, and ze hated using the stove anyway- too big a risk ze’d set something on fire. Bagels, maybe? Shoshanah bought bagels yesterday, and they should have at least a few left. No cream cheese, though; ze’d have to use a knife for that.

Eyphah focused on the motion of hir legs, lifting one up and swinging in front of the other, over and over again, until ze reached the kitchen, because otherwise ze’d get too lost in hir own head to move.

Even without cream cheese, the bagels tasted pretty good, and ze ate them quickly. After reciting the birkat hamazon, the sound of hir voice stopped echoing through the house, and it fell silent. Ze was just alone in here, and it was dark out, and there was nothing stopping the monster in hir from taking over.

Maybe ze should go out into town? Ze hated being around people, always had, and ze was probably a danger to them, but maybe it would be better than being alone in this empty house. Eyphah shifted hir weight on the chair as ze thought, and even the creaking seemed to whisper monster at hir.

It was official, ze had gone insane, and Eyphah needed to get out of this fucking house.

After pausing just long enough to leave a note for Shoshanah- Shoshana didn’t worry like ze did, she probably wouldn’t need it, but maybe it would be nice- ze changed into a cleaner shirt, short sleeved and white like before, but not covered in imaginary blood stains. Then, ze left the house and decided to walk to the jewelry store, hoping to get hirself a new magen david necklace.

It was raining lightly outside, the sky clouded over with grey so ze couldn’t see any stars. Disappointing. Other than that, Eyphah didn’t mind the rain much; sure, hir hair was getting wet, and hir scalp where ze had a bald spot, but it felt kind of nice. Calm. Ze could almost imagine that the rain was washing away all the evil that lived inside hir.

Almost.

Slowly, ze breathed and focused on the noise of hir shoes clicking against the pavement, of the rain gently pattering on the windows of the stores surrounding hir. It had been such a long time since ze just focused on what was going on in the world around hir. Most of the time, ze was too caught up in hir own head, obsessed with the past or dreading with the future. Eyphah let hir eyes linger behind hir a little too long, or narrowed hir vision on the world ze was hurtling into, and and never took the time to look around.

It wasn’t so bad.

Ze ran a finger through hir damp hair, making it look a little more presentable, before walking into the jewelry store. Was it even open this late? Maybe ze should have checked that first. But the lights were on, and loud voices flooded the building, and there were people in there. It felt much warmer than hir empty house.

“Eyphah! Shalom!” someone called, and ze started a little, not having expected to be welcomed. It was easy to forget people liked hir, when ze struggled with liking hirself so much.

Ze waved, responding with “Hey, how’s it going?” Hopefully, if ze initiated a conversation, whoever called hir name would come closer to hir and ze would figure out who it was. Their voice wasn’t instantly recognizable.

They did, in fact, come closer; Chaim, Eyphah remembered. They had been extremely close as children; he had done an aliyah at hir B’nai Mitzvah a few years ago, and while they hadn’t spent as much time together recently, they were still good friends. Eyphah smiled a bit.

“Pretty good,” Chaim said, grinning. He was usually grinning, his slightly crooked teeth showing and dark eyes lighting up. His hair had gotten longer since the last time ze saw him, dark and curling around his warm, copper colored face. “I’m getting a boat soon, finally. I’ve been saving up for years.”

“That’s great! I’m really happy for you!”

“Yeah, I leave in a few weeks, but I’ll be sure to write. How about you, anything interesting going on?”

Eyphah tugged at hir hair, a few strands coming loose. Chaim must have noticed the bald spots, wider and more obvious than the last time they’d spoken a few months ago, but he was nice enough not to comment on it. Nothing very noteworthy had gone on in hir life recently, especially not something ze’d want to share with people.

“I’ve been working on sword fighting more often,” ze said finally, omitting how terrified ze was of hurting anyone. “Gotten pretty good at it.”

“Nice! Please don’t stab me though.”

That’s what I’m worried about. “Haha, I won’t,” Eyphah said weakly, clawing at the skin where hir neck sloped into hir shoulder and tearing it off.

Chaim took a step forward in line as whoever was at the front left. Eyphah followed. “A lot of people here, huh? I thought there’d be hardly anyone.”

“Tu B’av is coming up soon, I guess. A lot of people buying their ahavs jewelry.” Eyphah usually made Shoshanah a cake for Tu B’av; ze supposed ze’d have to come up with something else this year. Hopefully ze didn’t disappoint her.

“Right. Forgot about that.”

Eyphah nodded, shoving thoughts of disappointing Shoshanah out of hir head. “Are you here buying anything for your ahav?” ze asked, the corners of hir mouth turning up.

Chaim snorted. Eyphah had thought he would find that funny, considering he had never and would never love people like ahavs, the mere thought that he would was ridiculous. “I was hoping to get earrings, actually,” he said once he stopped laughing. “Lost my old ones.”

“Disaster,” ze teased.

“You’re one to talk, Mx. I got my hair cut because I burnt it cooking.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You love me, bitch.”

“I do.” Eyphah smiled again- a real genuine smile!- and leaned against Chaim’s wide frame. He made hir feel like a person. That was nice. Ze had forgotten what it was like to feel like a person, not a monster.

#shai's writing #shai types things #monsters #everyone is jewish wip #gonna rebagel with taglist #i love chaim btw #and he's aromantic #if that wasn't obvious

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

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Sanctuary -Chapter 55

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, anxiety, SMUT

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @thunderintheshadows, @valkyrie-of-the-light

“Do you smell that?” his voice is a near whisper, corners of his eyes and the bridge of his nose wrinkled in obvious disgust, leaning sideways in his chair, getting as close as possible as he can get to her without practically sitting on her lap.

It's nine in the morning and they're already at the hospital, the waiting room of the radiology department near standing room only; a mixture of both in and outpatients waiting for x rays and ultrasounds.

Esme looks up from the intake form attached to a clipboard in her lap. “All I smell is hand sanitizer and whatever they use to clean the floors with.”

“Are you sure that's all you smell? That's it?”

She nods. “Why? What do you smell?”

“It smells like death.”

It's the PTSD. She's dealt with many a triggering episode in the past five and a half years. Anything out in public can cause an immediate and extremely negative reaction; as simple as someone slamming a vehicle door too hard or even a car backfiring. Fireworks are a nightmare; the Fourth of July an extremely stressful time for him, made even worse by wanting to do things with -and for- the kids for the holiday. She often wonders how he manages when he's on the job; rifles and handguns being the weapons of choice after all. But he'd once explained that when he was 'the zone', he didn't really hear anything. He'd become so accustomed to the using weapons that he could block the sound completely out.

Hospitals have always been a hit or miss. Some appointments go smooth and without any triggering moments. Where he's completely calm and relaxed and nothing bothers him. Others are a disaster right from the get go. Everything from the lights being too bright, to too many people in scrubs, to the beeping of various monitors. Today is somewhere in between bad and mediocre; a slight panic attack the moment they'd pulled into the underground parking lot, having to take the stairs (alone) because he couldn't stand the thought of being enclosed in an elevator, and now the smell.

She doesn't say anything in response; when he's this agitated, the less talk, the better. Instead she offers a reassuring smile, lays a hand on in back between his shoulders, and then returns to filling out the form in her lap. Sometimes simple touch is enough; that light pressuring helping ease the tension and calm the nerves. Today he's wound extremely tight. Hands clasped tightly together and resting on his stomach, right thigh violently moving back and forth.

“I hate hospitals,” he says, and she can hear the slight panic in his voice. This is huge for him; having to fight his own fears and his own demons while trying to help her. It breaks her heart; that this big, strong, seemingly fearless man has to battle with such a powerful, invisible force. Even when it comes to trying to support his own wife during what should be an exciting, happy time. But there's pride as well; that he's so determined to be by her side and he's handling his own discomfort and suffering so well.

She places the clipboard on the small table beside her, then grabs her bag from it rests on the floor between her feet; rummaging through it until she finds a bottle of prescription meds. Proceeding to twist off the lid, dump three small pills into her palm, and then offer them to her husband. No words are needed. He doesn't need them. And he gives a small smile of appreciation, presses a small kiss to her forehead and then takes the meds from her, placing them under his tongue and waiting for them to dissolve. She hates this for him; the struggle he has with his mind. And she notices the way the young couple sitting across the way keeps watching them. Maybe it's his sheer size; , long and leggy, the broad shoulders and the muscular chest and the powerful arms. Maybe it's even the mixture of the tattoos and the various scars that are in such visible places. But she guesses

it's his behaviour; the shaking of the leg, the eyes that never stop surveying everything and anything around them, his tightly clasped hands. She glares at the pair sitting across from her; that one simple, dark look letting them know that under no circumstances will she hesitate in calling them out on their bullshit. And her hand moves from between his shoulders to the back of his neck; fingernails lightly scraping just under the band of his baseball cap.

It only takes a few seconds to work; the shaking of the leg stopping and his hands slightly relaxing. When they'd first sat down, it had been the repetitive actions of removing his hat, running his hand through his hair, putting his hat back on. Several minutes of the same until she'd had to redirect him by getting him to go into the hall and get her a bottle of water from a vending machine. The OCD tendencies are extremely rare and don't flare up often, but when they do, the only thing that is successful in getting him to stop whatever he's doing is to give him something else to concentrate on. Once that happened, he never went back to the other. Now he's moved on to fidgeting with his wedding ring; repeatedly pulling it up to the knuckle and then pushing it back down, sometimes just rubbing the pad of his thumb against the smooth metal. It's relatively harmless, until he manages to rub the skin underneath completely raw.

“Do you want to take this up for me?” she asks, as she holds out the clipboard.

It gives him something to do; a simple task that will take his mind off whatever thoughts are plaguing him. It's a temporary fix , but it gives him some relief at least. And she watches him as he heads off, noticing the attention he seems to attract everywhere they go. He exudes confidence; sure in his ability to handle any and all situations that come his way. And it's that confidence that draws peoples interest; a man of few words that can express more in his body language and facial expressions than in an entire sentence. And of course, the ladies like him; young and old. What's not to like? The face, the blue eyes, the insane body.

It's only thirty feet, but when he returns he's calmer; whether it's from the redirection of the medication kicking in, or even both. But he's stopped fidgeting and his eyes aren't darting around with the same intensity they were before, and there's no longer sweat linger at his temples or the band of his baseball cap. And he when sits, he just stretches his legs out instead of shaking them, and he drapes an arm across her shoulders, hand resting on her upper arm. A different person, just like that. Which in turn helps her to relax, and she leans into him, head resting back on his shoulder, hand on his thigh.

“I have to pee,” she announces. “So bad.”

“You can't. That's the rules.”

“Screw the rules. I feel like I'm going to explode. It hurts.”

“Well go and let a little bit out,” he suggests.

“Have you ever tried to pee just a little bit? It doesn't work that way. I hope it's not too much longer. Because I don't know how long I can sit here having to go this bad. Do you still smell it? What you were smelling earlier?”

He shakes his head. “It's gone now.”

There was nothing ever there of course, although he doesn't realize that. He associates the normal smells of a hospital with death. Not surprising, considering how close to death he'd actually come and how long he'd had to stay cooped up with various wires and tubes attached to nearly every available spot on his body.

“Remember the first ultrasound we had for the twins?” she asks. “When we found out there was two? You looked like you were going to faint.”

“I went in there expecting one. So when they tell you there's two of everything...”

“You were probably just worried it was two girls.”

“That's not a lie. That is exactly what I thought at first. How the hell am I going to deal with two more girls? I didn't want to be that outnumbered. I was already getting bossed around and there was just you and Millie was still tiny.”

“A tiny dictator,” Esme concludes. “That's because you'd pick her up every time she made even the smallest noise. You wouldn't leave her alone. Now she's five and you're totally wrapped around her little finger. You complain about being a whipped husband? Oh no. She's the one that has you completely whipped.”

“She hasn't gotten me to wear the tiara yet. She hasn't broken me completely.”

“Give it time,” she laughs, and rubs his thigh. “She's only five. There's tons of time left.”

Her cell phone...in the bag once again on the floor between her feet,,,begins to ring and he leans down to grab it for her; helping keep any unnecessary pressure off of her already full and extremely nervous bladder. There's no secrets between them; able to go in and out of each other's belongings without question or permission, and he pulls out her phone and checks the call display. Immediately frowning.

“Your mother.”

Esme groans. “That's the fifth time since we left the house.”

“Want me to text her and tell her to fuck off?”

“Next time answer. That'll scare the shit out of her and she'll probably hang up.”

“Or she'll lose her shit on me. I'm kind of hoping she does. That way I can just snap. You'll let me, right? Snap? Just this once? Normally you don't let me flip my shit on her. And I really want to.”

“It's been five and a half years in the making. She has it coming. How cute you are you?” she reaches up to rub her palm against his cheek, the bristles of his beard tickling her skin. “Wanting to defend my honour.”

“It's her goddamn fault we're even here right now. What is something worse had happened? Not just stitches and a concussion. What if you'd lost the baby because of her bullshit.”

“Tyler, let's not even think about things like that, okay?”

The leg starts to shake again, and she moves her hand over to to it.

“Don't dwell on what didn't happen,” she says. She knows him far too well; how his mind works when the PTSD kicks in. Obsessing over things that either never happened, or he fears will. “Everything is fine and we're just here for a more in depth ultrasound. Not because there's a problem. Hey...” she squeezes his knee. “....calm down just a bit, okay?”

“I hate hospitals.”

“I know. But you're doing fine. You're doing fine and I'm proud of you.”

That finally brings a smile to his face, and he lays his hand over top of hers, gripping it tightly.

“You can go wait in the hall,” she suggests.

“The hall is still the hospital.”

“Just calm down. Just take a breath. You're doing fine, Tyler. I know how hard this is for you. Being here. And I love you for doing this. For going so far out of your comfort zone.”

“I wasn't going to let you come alone. Not like you made the kid on your own. I just...” he sighs heavily. “...I just fucking hate hospitals.”

“It's okay,” she assures him, and tightens her hold on his hand. “You're fine. You're fine and you're doing amazing.”

Even the biggest and toughest need validation and reassurance.

****

The ultrasound had showed no abnormalities; everything developing properly, heart strong and healthy, growth right on track. It's a huge relief; the news putting all of their fears and worries to rest. The doctor's appointment had been slightly disappointing. The IV could come out, but weekly tests would monitor her keytone levels and the IV would be put back on (for much longer this time, maybe even through the rest of the pregnancy). The numbers had been shockingly bad when she'd been brought into the ER and easily could have escalated to kidney damage or failure. She'd been given an order to eat more now that the Zofran was in her system and working; a ten pound weight less at this stage of the game being completely unacceptable, according to the doctor. She needed to hydrate, eat, get proper sleep, and stress less. Sex however, was allowed. Just nothing too vigorous or rough.

“Well there goes all the things we like,” Esme had quipped, getting a laugh from the doctor but a glare from Tyler.

The house is empty when they get back, and they take full advantage of it. Eager and needy hands yanking at -and removing- clothes before the bedroom door even closes behind them. There's a desperation to the way they touch, the way they kiss; hungry and intense, yet possessing a a sense of urgency. He leaves in eight hours for New Zealand, and the realization that this moment together may in fact be their last hangs heavily in the air. His kisses are deep and aggressive, yet his hands are soft as they explore her body; those callouses rough against her skin as they move along it, his weight holding her against the back of the door. Her hands are in his hair; tugging, twisted; his mouth on her neck as his fingers move along the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate,making her shudder against him. His touch is methodical, as if committing every inch of her body to memory, and she gives a mewl of disappointment when he suddenly removes his hand from behind her legs. Kissing her as he takes her face between his palms, using his size and strength advantage to push her across the room, until the backs of her legs collide with the edge of the bed and she topples backwards with a giggle.

She bites her lip as she watches him peel his t-shirt up and over his head. Even all these years and the extra pounds and muscle later, she is still turned on by the sight of him; the sheer power behind those solid muscles, the tattoos, the scars. All the the things that mix together to make him an incredibly beautiful man. The one who had both made her forget about anyone that ever came before, and ruined anyone that may -for some inexplicable reason- come after him.

“Baby...” she sighs in contentment. “...you are so sexy.”

Tyler just grins in response; big hands reaching for her hips, fingers hooking in the waist band of her simple cotton panties and then yanking them down and over her ass, fingertips gliding along her legs as she pulls them down and then tosses them onto the floor alongside his t-shirt. Her eyes fluttering shut as his mouth and his hands begin their slow ascent of her body, beginning at the side of her left ankle and then travelling upwards, lips and tongue teasing the inside of her leg as his fingertips drift along the back. Moving with such intent and purpose that she can barely stand it; anticipation building to an almost unbearable level. And when he reaches that juncture between her hip and thing, she's once more grabbing at his hair and his shoulders, desperate for more. To feel his mouth where she's hot and wet and ready for him.

He decides not to prolong the torture. Placing a forearm across her stomach and holding her in place; eyes riveted on hers as he drags the tip of his tongue along her slit, then bringing it in direct contact with her clit. Watching as he eyes close once more and her breath hitches; the grip on his hair tightening. He wastes no time; he knows exactly what buttons to push. How to use his mouth and his fingers to quickly bring her to orgasm. Loving the way his name sounds as it explodes from her mouth. And he can feel her entire body violently shuddering as he places a trail of warm kisses all the way up to her lips. Letting her taste her own juices on his lips and tongue. Then he pulls back to look at her; pushing a hand through her hair, eyes searching every inch of her face.

“You are so beautiful,” Tyler breathes. “And I love you. I'll always love you. I want you to know that.”

It's important that she does know. That she hears it in his voice and sees it in his eyes. Just in case he doesn't make it back and he never gets the chance to tell her again. Not wanting to her to left wondering just what and how he'd felt.

“I love you,” tears sparkle in her eyes. “So much. And I've never regretted a single second of the last five and a half years.”

He kisses her; long, slow, tender. Wanting to remember the feel of her mouth against his, the smooth glide of her tongue, the taste of her lips. If this is the last time...if he never does return home...this will be the last memory either of them have of each other. And when his end comes...if it comes...he will have had last this moment. Where no words were left unspoken. Where he showed her how felt. How he would always feel. And her hand comes to rest on the back of his head, pulling him tighter against her, the kiss deepening and becoming more intense as their hands work together to remove the last remaining bits of clothing. His name coming out of her mouth in a breathless moan when his lips travel across her collarbone, one of his hands once more delving between her legs, the palm gently cupping her mound before two fingers push inside of her.

Combined with the way he sucks at the top of her left breast -effectively marking her as his- and how his thumb swipes across her clit, it's too much for her anxious and needy body to take. And she comes a second time; not as powerful as the first, but just as incredible, her entire body arching off the bed as she heaves a long, content sigh. His mouth capturing hers as again as he slides his arm between her and the mattress, effortlessly lifting as he sits back on his heels, his free hand tightly gripping her hip as he positions her in his lap, slowly lowering her down onto his cock. She cries out at the sensation; the feeling familiar, but amazing all at the same time. No man had ever filled her in the way that he does; no one else ever able to make her feel the ways that he can. He'd long ago memorized each and every inch of her; finding all those secret, magical spots that drive her crazy, learning just how and where she likes his hands and his mouth. Both hands on her hips now as they gently guide each movement, matching each thrust he makes, his lips and his tongue teasing her breasts; taking those hard nipples into his mouth, alternating between gentle and aggressive suckling. Her hands exploring the hard, powerful muscles that make up his shoulders and back before once more pushing in his hair and aggressively yanking his head up towards her; kissing him with a ferocity and intensity that she'd never displayed before.

“Tyler...” his name comes out as a choked sob, her forehead falling against his. “...make me come....please...make me come...”

He slips a hand between them, once more finding that hard, slick nub; pressing his thumb against it and then rubbing in slow, smooth circles until she's coming apart for a third time. The scream muffled against his shoulder; her teeth digging into the skin; hard enough to break the surface and draw blood. And he once again places her on her back, still on his knees, fingers biting into her hips as he pulls her into him; filling her with several long, strong thrusts until he's coming as well. Body rigid, a low moan rumbling deep within his chest as he empties himself inside of her. Waiting until he feels that last drop leaving him before dropping his forehead towards her, placing warm, moist kisses on her quivering stomach before travelling up to her mouth. Their breathing harsh and ragged as he kisses her; slow and soft. Her hand on the side of his face when he pulls back to look at her, hating the sight of those huge, hot tears that spill down her cheeks.

****

Afterwards he lays on his side; her back tucked into his front, a hand resting on her stomach, one leg thrown over hers, eyes closed and his face buried in her hair. Relaxed by both their lovemaking and the way her fingernails repeatedly glide over his forearm.

“Tyler?” her voice is quiet, sullen. The tears have stopped for now, but they are never far away.

He presses a kiss to the back of her head. “Yeah?”

“The selfish side of me doesn't want you to leave. It wants you to just stay here. Where you're safe. It doesn't want you to go.”

“That's not selfish, baby.” he assures her.

“But the logical side of me knows you have to go. I mean, they're kids. What kind of person would I be if I told you stay? To just let someone else worry about them? I'd want someone to find my kids.”

“Esme, it doesn't make you a bad person because you don't want me doing the job. You're just worried. I think you'd be a horrible person if you weren't worried.”

“I'm scared,” she admits. “I'm scared you're not going to come back. And I need you to come back. I can't do this by myself. Four kids. Five, soon. That's not what I signed up for. We were supposed to do this together. I'm not supposed to be doing this alone. I don't want to this alone.”

“You will if you have to. You won't have a choice.”

“I'm not strong enough for that. You have all this faith in me. You think I'm so strong and I'm not. I'm far from strong.”

He places a kiss on her shoulder. “You're the strong person I know. And you'd be okay. I know you would. That's the one thing that almost makes it okay. That if I die, I know you and the kids will be alright.”

“”I can't do this alone. I can't. I know you want to think I can. I know you want to think I'd be okay. But I'd be far from okay if something happened to you. Five and a years is nowhere near enough.”

“We always knew this could happen. If I stayed with the job. There was always that risk. That I'd leave and I wouldn't come back.”

“But you always did come back. And now it just seems like you've just accepted that you won't. And you don't know that. You don't know what's going to happen. And you're talking like you do.”

“I'm not saying it will happen. But out of all the jobs I've ever gone on, this is probably the riskiest one yet. You even said so yourself; these people are far more dangerous than anything I've come up against. You know way more about them than I do. You've heard the stories. And I've got to go in there and get two kids out. Not just one. Two.”

“You said someone would be with you. That weren't going to go in there alone. Tell me you're not going in there by yourself.”

“I'll have someone with me.”

“Like with you, with you, or waiting somewhere for you? Because that's two entirely different things. You need to take someone in with you. Not have someone waiting outside for you. Be right inside with you. Tell me that's what you're going to do. Tyler...” she rolls over to face him. “...tell me you're not going in there by yourself.”

He gives a small, tight lipped smile.

“Are you serious right now? You said someone will be with you. And that means right beside you. Don't pull this shit with me. Not when there's only eight hours before you leave. Don't do this.”

“He's going in with me but he's not going to be right beside me. He's not going to be right on my shoulder. He'll be waiting somewhere so I can hand one of the kids off to him.”

“That's not good enough. That's nowhere near good enough.”

“Esme, I can't have someone up my ass while I'm trying to extract people. I just can't. I need to be able to go in there, do my thing, and that's that. It won't do any good if he's right there. That's only going to hinder me. I'll be worried about him fucking up and feeling like I have to babysit him.”

“I don't give a shit. I don't want you going in there alone. Not when you have two people to get out. That's too dangerous and you know it.”

“I've done hundreds of extractions,” he reminds her. “Hundreds. I know what I'm doing.”

“How many of them had two people involved?”

“None. But...”

“Then why would you even take the chance? Why would you even risk it? You need someone going in there with you.”

“What I need is for you to calm down. You heard what the doctor said. Stay calm, don't stress...”

“Easy for him to say when he's not married to you,” she huffs. “You're kind of stressful sometimes.”

“I am? See all this gray hair coming in? That's all from you. It all has your name on it. I think I aged ten years just on the car ride to the airport,” he pushes his hand through her hair. He'd dyed it earlier; returning it back to his normal chestnut colour, some of the colouring still lingering on his hands thanks to the supplied gloves being way too small. He likes it better this way; it's familiar, it's comforting. It's home. “It'll be okay. He won't be right beside me, but he'll be there. That's what matters.”

“What matters is you coming back alive. Not in a body bag.”

He presses his lips to her forehead. “Baby, I wouldn't leave you unless I had to. Unless I had no other choice. You know that, right? That the only reason I wouldn't come back is because I am dead?”

She nods.

“I'm going to do whatever I have to to get home. I promise you. Even if it means I have to leave those kids behind. If it comes down to it...if I have to make a choice...I'm choosing myself over them. No matter how selfish that sounds.”

“It's not selfish. It's smart. It's survival. But I hope you don't have to make that choice. Because I know that will be on your mind for the rest of your life and you'll constantly question whether you did the right thing. And I don't want that for you.”

“I know you don't,” he presses a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You're a good person, Tyler. Whether you see that in yourself or not. I see it. I know who you really are. When you're away from the job. I know the things that are in your mind and in your heart, and those are beautiful places. I know you see yourself as a terrible person. But if you could just...for once...see yourself the way I see you. How I see you when you're with your kids. How much you love them. How'd you do anything for them. And how much they adore you. You're a big man with an even bigger heart. And you'll never convince me otherwise.”

He grins, “Not even in the forty, forty five years we still have left?”

“Not even then. I'm not ready to let you go. It hasn't been nearly long enough. No matter how many times I complain that you drive me absolutely batshit insane.”

He gives a small laugh.

“But I'd rather you be here to drive me batshit insane than to not be here.

“I'm not going anywhere. Unless I don't have a choice.”

“I really do not want you to go.”

“I know.”

“But I know you have to. And I'm not going to stop you. Even if part of you wishes I would.”

Tyler smirks. “You really do know me well.”

“What? You think I've been asleep for the last five and a half years? I've been paying attention. I know what you're like and what goes through that head of yours. And you're probably the same way when it comes to me. There's things you know I'm going to say before I even say them. Or things you know I'm thinking. How many times have we finished each other's sentences? Or given each other the same look when someone has said or done something stupid?”

“A lot,” he says. “A lot of times.”

“Remember what Gaspar said? About how two broken people can't make a whole? That they can't heal each other, they can only make an even bigger mess of things?”

He nods.

“I think we proved him wrong. We're not perfect. Not by a long shot. But we're not the same people we were back then. Not even close to it. So we did heal each other. And maybe we've got a lot of scars left behind, but we look what we've managed to do together. We have a life. A normal life. We have four kids and this little peanut...” she smiles as she lays a hand on her stomach. “...did you really think five and a half years ago that any of this would be possible? If someone had have told you before you left for Dhaka, what would happen in the end, would you have believed them?”

“I would have told them they were fucking crazy.”

“Right? I would have said the same thing. I've someone had told me before I walked into that shack of yours that less than six months later you'd be my husband, I would have laughed at them.”

“Why?” he grins, and laying a hand on the small of her back, pulls her tight against him. “Was I that hideous?”

“As if you could ever be hideous. And that wasn't a slight on you. It was just how weird my life was at the time. I was so caught up in the job and travelling from place to place and never forming bonds with anyone. So if someone had said 'hey, that's your future husband and you're going to end up with four kids'...”

“Five,” he corrects. “Well, four and a bit right now.”

“...I would have thought it was the most ridiculous I ever heard. That wasn't what I had planned for my life. A husband, children. I thought that all went out in the window with Mark. I thought for sure I'd be single forever. That I'd never trust anyone again. That anyone would ever love me.”

“That was him putting shit in your head. All that bullshit he told you.”

“But then you came along and everything changed. Less than a week and half later, I was giving up everything for you. For some random Australian who lived in a shack with a chicken as a roommate. And it felt so right and so perfect. I never sacrificed anything for you. I just gave up one life for a better one.”

“This is better? Living like this? Having to put up with my bullshit and the job? How is that better?”

“Because you love me. No matter how big of a bitch I can be or how much I nag you. Because you helped me make four beautiful children. Because of this little peanut...” she pats her stomach. “...Tyler, I don't regret meeting you. Or that things happened the way they did. Or that they happened so quick after that. And I definitely don't regret that day on the Sultana Kamal bridge. And I'd do it all again if I had to. In a heartbeat.”

The honesty in her words...in her eyes...brings tears to his own. They've had a lot of heart to hearts over the things; sharing their deepest and darkest secrets, their most painful memories, their fears and worries. But they've never had this. Where the the emotions are just laid so bare. “I wouldn't change a thing,” he says. “Well maybe the choking you out part. I probably went a little overboard with that.

“Are you kidding? I know you were pissed, but that was insanely hot.”

He can't help but laugh at that, and he presses a kiss to her brow and lays his forehead against her. “I don't regret it either. How things happened. In Dhaka. In that hotel room. Maybe it wasn't right, but it felt right. And I don't regret how quick things happened after that. Millie, getting married, all of that. Only thing I regret is what happened on that bridge. That you had to see the things you did. If I could change anything, that would be it. I'd change it so we just got the fuck out of there.”

“But wouldn't it change other things? I mean, if things truly are meant to happen, wouldn't changing one thing change everything else? Millie would still be there. We made her during those first five days. So she was going to be on this earth regardless. But would the twins and Declan be here? If we changed the ending and took a different path, would they ever have been here?”

“That's pretty deep, babe.”

“Say you could back and change the ending of Dhaka, but you knew it would mean that the boys would never exist. Would you do it? If we just walked away that day and you almost didn't die, but it meant we never had them. Would you still want to change it?”

“No,” Tyler admits. “Not in a million years. I wouldn't give my sons up for anything. Any of my kids. I don't care what I had to go through. I'd go through it all again if it meant they'd be here.”

“Good answer,” she says, and he can feel her smile against his throat. “But there is one thing I would change.”

“Yeah? What?”

“The sewer. If I could go back in time, I would never let you talk me into that bullshit.”

“I didn't really talk you into anything, I basically told you to get your ass in it. There was no negotiating. It was get in there or get shot. You want to get shot? Because that's how you get shot.”

“Okay, so we'd have to change the Goonies from hell part too.”

“You just said we can't change anything. That if we change one thing, it changes everything. You're not playing by the same rules, here. If we get rid of the Goonies from hell part, that gets rid of the sewer part because we would have made it safe and sound to the bridge that night. So the next day never would have happened. See where I'm going with this?”

“Damn it! You aren't just a pretty face. You're right.”

“That's twice in two days. That you admitted I was right about something. That hasn't happened once in five and a half years and now it happens twice in two days?”

“Don't get too excited. It won't happen again. You had a good run, though.”

“For what it's worth,” he rests his chin on top of her head. “ I'm sorry I made you get into the sewer.”

“You should be. That smell is never going to leave my sinuses. And for what it's worth on my end, I'm sorry I told you you were like a bear with a sore asshole that first day in Dhaka. But you were exceptionally grumpy and mean and it was driving me insane.”

“I was only mean because you couldn't listen to simple fucking instructions before we went out in public.”

“Well I didn't like your instructions and you weren't the boss of me, so...”

“I was the boss then and I'm the boss now.”

“Yeah right! Baby, I just let you think you're the boss. I don't ever actually listen to anything you say. I just nod and agree and then I do my own thing anyway. It's how we ended up with a purple and yellow guest bathroom even though you distinctly said no. And I even talked you into painting it. So who's the boss around here?”

He frowns. “You're sneaky.”

“Don't underestimate my abilities. I have ways of making you do things. You just don't realize I'm using the powers against you. Why do you think I put out so much? Because it makes you happy and agreeable and you're more willing to agree with whatever I say and whatever I want.”

“So that's how it works.

“That's exactly how it works. See? You're five and a half years in and you had no idea you weren't really the boss.”

“There are some areas where I'm still the boss. I don't give a shit what you say.”

“Yeah...like what? Name one.”

“I can show you one if you want,” he offers, as he slips a hand between them, finding the warm place between her legs, wasting no time in slipping a finger inside of her.

She squirms. “Just the one?”

“I can make it two,” he adds a second finger, chuckling when she clamps her thighs around his hand.

“I think you should make love to me again,” she suggests.

“Yeah...” he smirks. “I think you're right.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #chris hemsworth character #sanctuary

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thatapplelookslikeme · 5 years

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DEARDESCENDANTS’ 12 DAYS OF HOLIDAYS

Day 2: Snow

Warnings: panic/anxiety attacks, ocd, child abuse, emotional trauma, thoughts of self-harm/suicide

Word count: 3,592

basically: based after d3 when the barrier is broken, but there’s a spell that keeps the villains from leaving. evie misses the snow on the isle and wants to go visit, carlos has lots of AnXiEtY, jay is protective of his boy, jaylos

Remember that panic and anxiety attacks are different for everybody! The ones described in this are the most common for me, so they’re easier to write about, but they’re definitely not something that everybody goes through.

no promises that i’m gonna finish the whole 12 days because i did no preparing for this at all and both of these days took h o u r s to finish. i’m trying im sry :(

Evie, Mal and Jay sat on the floor of the boys’ room looking at old pictures. This was their first holiday season in Auradon and as much as she enjoyed the warm weather, Evie was starting to miss the cold weather and snow of the isle. The three of them were going through the polaroids they took last year, only a couple months before they were whisked away to Auradon.

“Do you guys ever miss the snow?” Evie asked, not sure how to bring up the idea of a visit.

“No, it’s way better here,” Mal responded to her, “I actually enjoy being able to feel my limbs when I walk outside.”

“Don’t you dare say you want to go back, E,” Carlos said from across the room. “That place is full of bad memories. Go buy a snow globe to stare at if you miss it so much.”

“I don’t think one day would be so bad,” Evie responds as she continues looking through pictures. “It wouldn’t even have to be the whole day, maybe just a couple hours.” Mal and Jay exchange looks, but nobody responds, clearly not wanting to start an argument.

They finish going through the pictures and when Mal goes to bring another box of pictures over, Jay glances at his boyfriend, still sitting on the bed, staring at the book in his lap. He stands up, walking over to Carlos and sitting down next to him on the bed. When he doesn’t say anything, Jay leans his head on his shoulder. Knowing that shutting down like this was one of Carlos’ coping mechanisms, he didn’t say anything. He knew all he needed to do was be there to comfort him during times like this.

Acting as if this wasn’t happening was the best way to help Carlos get through this. Bringing attention to his attacks would only make them worse, Carlos never liked being the center of attention anyway. To anybody else, Carlos would look completely okay. But Jay knew, because he’s been around him for so many years, he knew the fidgeting and the blank staring. Jay knew to be there just in case he needed anything, but gave him time to process everything in his mind. When he was ready to talk, he would. And if he needed help, he would say it.

The first time Jay witnessed one of these attacks, he made Carlos promise to let him know if it was getting to the point of needing help. In exchange, Jay promised not to pressure him to talk about anything unless he wanted to.

Eventually, the girls finished going through all the pictures and headed back to their own room after saying their goodbyes. Jay stayed sitting next to Carlos, reading along with him when he calmed down enough to continue reading. After awhile, Carlos silently put his book down on his night stand and laid down. Jay laid down next to him and held him close to his chest, knowing that he wasn’t going to get any conversation from Carlos tonight.

“If you’re not going to put the work in to keep this house clean, you don’t deserve to stay in it! Stay away from me and this house until you realize how much I do for you and are ready to appreciate it,” Cruella yelled as she slammed the door in the small boy’s face.

It was the middle of winter, and there were piles of snow and ice all over the ground already with more falling. It was the middle of the night, which made it even colder. He could stay in his treehouse, he kept a couple blankets up there, but there were still openings all over the place and he’d probably be soaked and freezing by morning. He could try to sneak back in the house through the window and sneak back out in the morning, but he’d make too much noise, and he couldn’t be sure Cruella wouldn’t come into the closet before he woke up.

Deciding he didn’t have any other options, he started making his way to the clubhouse. He knew Mal, Evie, and Jay wouldn’t care if he stayed there, but he knew they’d ask about why he had come if any of them found him there. Everybody on the isle had shitty parents, and it was some part of a social contract that nobody talked about it. He covered his bruises and cigarette burns pretty well, and when he didn’t and one of the others asked about it, he would just brush it off as injuries from a fight.

He let himself in and looked around for any of the other three. When he didn’t see any of them, he mentally prepared an explanation for if one of them came in and found him. As soon as he pulled the blankets over his body and curled up on the couch, he was asleep.

The next morning when Jay found him, Carlos completely forgot about his bullshit explanation from last night and spilled every detail of his fucked up childhood, and Jay shared every detail of his in return.

Carlos woke up sweating and turned over, expecting to see his boyfriend lying on the other side of the bed, but was surprised to find the other side of the bed completely empty. In fact, once he took a look around the room, he realized the entire room was empty.

Had Jay finally gotten tired of having to comfort him everyday for so many years?

Carlos felt his breathing quicken and a familiar heavy feeling in his chest started to appear. Pulling the blankets off the bed and rushing to the bathroom, he slammed the door shut behind him and curled up in the corner.

He wasn’t prepared for Jay to tell him he was tired and done with him, so he figured the best way to avoid that was to block out the world. After all, the best way to cope is to act like it’s not happening. Well, out of the coping mechanisms Carlos knew, which were few, and they were all unhealthy.

Jay opened up the door with his right hand and balanced the tray of food on his left hand. He looked over to the bed and noticed that Carlos wasn’t there anymore. He also noticed the blankets were gone from the bed, but brushed it off assuming Carlos just kicked them to the floor. It wasn’t uncommon for their room to be a complete mess, especially their beds. Jay assumes Carlos is just getting ready, so he sets the tray down on the table in front of the TV and calls out, “Hey, I got you breakfast whenever you’re ready,” before turning on the TV and sitting down on the couch.

Carlos was so inside his own head that he didn’t even hear the noise of the door opening and closing, Jay’s voice, or the TV turning on. All he could hear was the voice in his head telling him that Jay was tired of him and he was going to leave him.

After a half hour of waiting, Jay starts to worry about Carlos. He never takes this long to get ready, even including a shower, and the shower hadn’t been on at all since Jay returned to the room. He gets up to go check on Carlos, knocking on the door and attempting to twist the handle. That’s when he realizes there’s no light coming from under the door. Which meant Carlos was in there in the dark. Sitting in the dark was something Carlos only did when his attacks were really bad. Something he did when he needed to block out every other thing in the world.

He tried knocking one more time and when he didn’t get a response, he got the key that was taped behind the TV stand. They kept it there in case Carlos ever needed help. It wasn’t uncommon for him to start panicking during a shower, there was plenty of time to think in there. But it never got bad enough for Jay to have to use it. There’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

He pushed open the door and flipped on the light switch. He immediately fell to his knees in front of the boy when he saw him curled up in his blankets, crying and shaking. He thought about pulling the smaller boy up and carrying him back to his bed, but decided that trying to touch him would scare him and that’s the last thing he wanted to do. “Carlos? What’s going on?” He waited for a response but knew that he was too far gone to hear him.

Carlos didn’t notice the noise or the light, his brain was still trying to process the fact that one of the most important people in his life hated him and never wanted to see him again. He’d be better off without him, Carlos knew, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. And if Jay left, chances are Mal and Evie would too. That’s his family, what was he going to do without him. He’d be left alone. And what’s the point of living when you’re alone?

His irrational thoughts and lowered impulse control decided that the best solution to keep everybody happy was to end it all now. Nobody would have to worry about him anymore, and he wouldn’t have to feel like a burden or be left alone. It seemed like a win-win situation to him.

He sat frozen for a couple minutes, which felt like six hours to him, trying to find the strength within himself to reach over under the sink where he kept his box of razors. Once he finally started to move, he was met with something pushing his arm back. Too afraid to open his eyes and discover what was stopping him, he pulled his hand back and ignored it, hoping if he did then it would go away. When he tried to reach out again, he was met with the same force. Not wanting to open his eyes, because opening his eyes meant accepting reality, he tried to feel for whatever was in front of him. When he felt something warm he pulled his hand back as quick as he could and hid it under the blanket with the rest of his body.

“What are you reaching for? Let me help you, just tell me what I can do for you.” Carlos flinched when he heard the familiar voice so close to him. He tried to back away from it, but his back was already against the wall. He knew he was in this room alone, he had to be. He checked behind the shower curtain and under the sink before he locked, then unlocked, then locked, then unlocked, then locked the door. Even in this state, that annoying part of his brain that makes him do such ridiculous things still wouldn’t leave him alone.

He was alone, he was sure of that. Which meant his brain was making this up. He’s been in this situation before. He was sure that if he opened his eyes right now, his boyfriend would not be in front of him. He knew exactly who would be there instead, and he couldn’t handle seeing her right now.

If he could just reach under the fucking sink, this would all be over. “Carlos! Can you hear me? I know you want me to leave you alone when you’re like this, but I’m worried about you.” Jay tried to reach out to touch the younger boy but instantly regretted it when all the strength in the younger boy was being used to kick and scream back at him.

“You can’t be here! Leave me alone!” Carlos went from angry to crying in a matter of seconds, “Please don’t hurt me.” His voice was so small and scared and all Jay wanted to do was hug him and absorb all the sadness and hurt in him. He wanted to take it all away, even if it meant he had to feel it himself. But that wasn’t possible and he knew that, so he needed to focus on getting Carlos out of his head and back into the real world.

“Carlos, nobody is going to hurt you. Please just open your eyes. It’s Jay, I’m the only person here and you know I would never hurt you.” Jay reached out to touch his hand and when the other boy didn’t put up a fight, he pulled him into his lap and held him as tight as he could. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it was long enough for the younger boy’s breathing to slow down and his tears to dry. Once he was sure Carlos was fast asleep, Jay carried him back to his own bed. Once the boy was lying down, he made a second trip back to the bathroom to retrieve the blankets that still lie on the bathroom floor. Bringing them back, he covered the boy with them, careful not to wake him up.

Carlos woke up with a headache, not remembering anything after Mal and Evie left last night. Looking out the window, he was surprised to see the world so bright. Was it afternoon already? Did he really sleep half the day away? He sighed and stretched his body, the sooner he got some ibuprofen in his system, the sooner the pain in his head would go away. When he went to stand, he was stopped by a pair of strong arms pulling him back.

He twisted his body around so that he was face to face with his boyfriend. But something was off… were those tear stains? Had Jay been crying? There was no way, Jay almost never cried.

Jay was awoken by the movement. Groaning he opened his eyes, not ready for the bright light he was met with. Once he saw Carlos was awake too, he immediately switched back into caretaker mode. “Are you okay?” Carlos asked him, looking worried. Why did he look so worried? Jay’s the one that should be worried! Was Jay doing something wrong? Oh no, he couldn’t let this happen, he had to fix this.

“I’m fine, why would you ask that?” Before Carlos had time to answer he had dozens more questions being shot at him, “Do you need anything? How long have you been awake? Did you eat yet?”

“Jay, what’s up with you?” Carlos asked as he watched his boyfriend stand up out of bed and start pacing around the room.

“So… you’re fine?” he asked pausing at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah?” It came out as more of a question that a definitive answer. “I mean, my head hurts pretty bad but that’s probably because you let me sleep all day.” Then he stood up and made his way to get some ibuprofen.

Jay stared at the empty bed for a moment, trying to decide if he should be worried about Carlos acting so normal after one of the worst attacks he’s seen him have. When he came to the conclusion that he probably didn’t remember any of the events from earlier that day, which wouldn’t be the first time he forgot one of his attacks, he decided it was best to not mention it. Making Carlos relive that wouldn’t be good on him, and it would probably freak him out that he had forgotten such a long period of time.

“Evie wants to go back to the isle.” Both of the boys laughed at Mal’s statement. “I’m serious!” She said, annoyed that they thought she was joking. “It was all she could talk about last night when we got back to our room. She misses the weather, which is insane, because who would want to be cold? Ayway, I’m not gonna let her go back alone and I don’t think any of us are gonna be able to stop her.”

“We all agreed not to go back there before the barrier was taken down,” Carlos siad, barely above a whisper. When Jay and Mal looked over to him, surprised that he would get involved when he usually avoided conflicts at all costs, he looked to the ground to avoid meeting their eyes.

“It’s not like we’re moving back there, she just wants to go back for a little bit, do a little bit of sightseeing, and come back.”

“What ‘sights’ are there to see? Everything’s broken down and gross, nothing any of us didn’t spend most of lives looking at,” Jay shot back. “Have you thought about what would happen if either of your parents found out you were there?”

“I’m not stupid, Jay! We’ll be careful. And even if they did find out, I know how to fight for myself! I’m not as weak as you think I am.”

“You’re acting like going back to the place that traumatized you is a casual after school activity! You don’t want to go back there anymore than we do, you just want to make her happy. Stop down playing it and tell her no!” Jay said, raising his voice.

“Can you two please stop fighting!” It came out as more of a demand than a question, and that shocked the other two. Carlos never raised his voice like this. Jay knew something was going on with him but he didn’t have time to worry about that right now. Right now, he needed to worry about stopping his friends from putting themselves in danger.

Deciding to deal with Carlos later, he turned his attention back to Mal. “You two are not going over there alone! You want to go? Fine. But I’m coming with you. Whether you like it or not.”

Mal stormed out of the room and Jay took a couple deep breaths before turning around to find Carlos with his hands over his ears and his head between his knees. “‘Los? Are you okay?” He walked over and reached out to touch his shoulder.

“I don’t want you to go. Mal and Evie too. All of you. I want you to stay here.” Carlos raised his head up to reveal the tears running down his face.

Jay had enough of this, he’s seen too much crying from the younger boy in the past 24 hours. He needs to fix this. He sat down next to the boy and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I can’t let them know go alone, you know that. I don’t think the two most stubborn people we know are going to change their minds.”

“Maybe they won’t, but if you all go and something happens, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“Promise me you’ll like me know if it’s too much,” Jay said, shutting the back door of the car after Evie got in.

“Yes, I promise. Can we go now? I kind of want to get this over with as soon as possible,” Carlos said getting into the passenger’s side of the car.

Jay got into the driver’s seat, giving one last smile to his boyfriend before turning his attention to the road. The four of them rode in silence across the bridge and waited until the car was parked. Mal and Evie were the first to get out, promising to call if they needed help before running off.

Jay sat waiting for Carlos to make e move to get out of the car. After a couple minutes Jay looked over to find Carlos fidgeting with his fingers. “We can just wait in the car, we don’t have to get out if you don’t want to.” Carlos smiled to himself and nodded, still looking down at his fingers.

They sat in comfortable silence waiting for any sign that the girls were in trouble. Jay turned on the radio leaning his head back against the headrest while humming to himself. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the piles of snow sitting around the parking lot.

He smiled over at his boyfriend, remembering all the snowball fights they used to have, and chasing each other in the snow after long days. He missed all the good times they used to have together in the snow. “Come on,” he said, opening his door.

“Hm?” Carlos responded, looking over.

“Get out, we’re not gonna sit here and be miserable the whole time.” He stood up and poked his head back in. “I’m serious, let’s go.” He shut the door, grabbing some snow and throwing it over the car as Carlos got out, just missing his head.

“Oh, you’re on,” Carlos said ducking down and picking up some snow before running around the car and attacking the older boy with snowballs.

The spent the next 30 minutes running around the parking lot trying to hit each other with snowballs. When he noticed Carlos starting to get cold and tired, he pulled the blanket he kept in the back seat out and wrapped it around the younger boy’s shoulders. Carlos smiled up at him as a silent ‘thank you’.

If Jay wasn’t so focused on not being able to feel his fingers, he could get lost in the boy’s eyes. Jay wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pushed him back against the car, leaning down to kiss him. When they pulled away, Carlos smiled again. “I love you, Jay, but it’s freezing. Can we wait in the car?”

#deardescendants #jaylos #12daysofdescendants

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shattered-catalyst · 5 years

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So this isnt for anything other than just to say what happened just so I feel heard and I can explain why I cant be as energetic and socially active on here. Its not a callout post or to be reblogged/shared by people. Its not to get anyone in trouble or to cause any reaction. It’s just for me to let it out and reclaim this space again. Its been a year since it happened and I guess I’m just still noticing how badly it has impacted my PTSD. How much its changed me as a person both online and off, and this isnt a woe as me thing either this is just me feeling a need to be heard and explain my own behavior over the year and also to make one simple request of you guys: no matter what you do, always treat your rp partners as people first and writers second.

Because I feel myself becoming bitter and that isnt who I am and I dont want to be someone like that. Or like this. I want to be me again

The person who did this wont be named mainly because they dont deserve it and yall dont need to know. Their behavior when I confronted them more than cements the impression that they dont see any harm in what they said and how they reacted. And again this isnt about them though In A Way I suppose it is? it takes two to tango but it takes one to encourage someone to kill themselves.

This is going to be long because I need to inform on the activity that lead up to this because it didnt just happen over night- though in a way it did. But you need a better picture of this person because apparently they present a really great face that only a few of us see the manipulative and toxic side of.

This person was always very judgemental and hyper critical. I witnessed a lot of very negative and toxic behavior from them but I was naive and just hoped they would mature as they grew older and gained more independence. I thought it was just a toxic friend group and that perhaps she would recognize her self destructive and immature behavior and grow from it.

My first red flag should have been when they accused me of being their ex girlfriend SOLELY because I was living in PA. I hate to break it to yall, but PA is a big ass state and has a lot of comic book loving ladies. Thankfully I have never met this person IRL and I hope I never do.

They tried to pull me into making fun of other muns on discord, including mocking sensitive pictures from a mun’s personal blog. I blatantly said it wasnt okay and made me uncomfortable and she continued laughing and making jokes about it with her friend group on discord. She kept trying to pull me into it no matter how often I tried to change the subject.

Her group of friends also did this thing where one of them would go interact with a mun an they would take screenshots of the convo and share it with the group and mock the mun they were interacting with. Whether it be their presentation of character/grahics/writing style/ etc.

The other red flags I ignored? How much she complained and mocked other muns and compared them to me; if anyone did anything or said anything she disagreed with it was an instant blow up. She took EVERYTHING personally including other people writing the same characters she did, having differing headcanons, not knowng obscure details about canon, etc.

She once tried to make fun of a new writing partner I had who was writing the same character, and I had to break it to her that this new person could write in her first language if she wanted to; im being very vague but let me just say if you and your character have the same first language and you want to write in it then its completely WRONG for a white mun to try and make fun of you for it.

She once suggested I had stolen pictures off her pinterest when she sent me a moodboard request for my character. Jokes on her I didnt even know she HAD a pinterest and I had gotten all my pictures from the ‘green aesthetic’ tag on tumblr. Which I told her but she kept pushing the idea on me I had stolen them. I of course dismissed this and put it on the back burner despite the alarm bells going off.

This hyper critical and paranoid behavior continues with everything from other canon blogs making similar head canons/ vaguely similar graphics/ to fanfiction authors having similar head canons/plot ideas.

My penname Citrus? I didnt want one. I didnt want it. She demanded I have a pen name and if not she was going to call me Cat. Now as yall know I dont like being enmeshed with my muse so I keep myself separate from them. I didnt like being called Cat and I told her that explicitly. She kept doing it. So I had to make a pen name because she refused to respect my boundaries.

When the Deadpool movie came out she DEMANDED I change my FC to reflect the movie Despite Not Changing Hers to reflect her own characters new look - which might i add is fat erasure. It was clear then that the rules and standards she held other people to didnt apply to herself. I was labeled problematic for not giving into her demands to change FCs (which I have a literal logical reason for not changing and im not explaining that here)

So I shouldve left. Long story short I didnt because every friendship I’d been in until around this time had been abusive and toxic. I thought this was all normal behavior for people to have and I was convinced I was just being critical of someone elses opinions/ insensitive etc. Thanks to my colleagues in graduate school and to several of you on here I learned that ‘hey dumbass friends dont treat your ass like this’.

Im leaving a lot out about the shit she did/said to me but those snippets give you an idea of things.

Leading up she decided to leave fandom and asked we didnt talk about marvel I said cool okay and didnt talk about marvel with her. If I did I would ask first if she was okay if we talked about one small aspect I thought might excite her/ she would like to know about but it wasnt often that happened because she began ghosting me. Hard. She stopped replying to me at all over discord when I would try and talk to her how we used to about our lives. She didnt answer any asks for munday or character development, in fact she blatantly ignored me.

I checked in a couple times with her to make sure I hadnt done anything to make her uncomfortable and she said no. May I emphasize she said no here. Im emphasizing it right now. She said no. She said everything was fine. So when I was like hey dude this is super triggering for me can you send me like a hi every once in awhile just so I can know we’re okay because its super triggering for me. Yall know what she did? She ‘lmao’-ed. she thought that was hecka funny. Yeah triggering ‘Citrus’ is hilarious isnt it? No it isnt and I shouldve cut her ass off right then and there.

Heres where shit gets confusing: she kept fucking talking about marvel to me. Id get messages at random times about marvel and then silence for weeks. I vividly remember during this period I was cleaning the museum vault and she kept messaging me about her marvel fc’s and how she wouldnt get a plotline and how characters were wrong etc.

I remember being REALLY confused because she had said NO MARVEL. But here she was bitching at me about marvel. In fact thats all she did when she did talk to me. Which was only like three or four times during the ghosting time period. She’d bitch about marvel and then vanish.

Shed make claims about not watching her dash and thats why she never responded to me/ interacted with me. She’d say she wasnt talkng to anyone while I see her on the dash TALKING TO PEOPLE and Id like to point out Ive told her I would be fine ending anything as long as she let me know.

but she followed me on every blog and throughout this time period she made and followed me on numerous ones. She kept reaching out sporadically to bitch about her fcs/how horrible marvel was/ and thats it.

It was extremely confusing because if someone doesnt want to talk to me I assume they will; 1. unfollow 2. block 3. say goodbye 4. ghost and stay ghosted.

Not cycle through behavior rapidly. I asked her a few times if we were good and that I was confused and I got another ‘lmao’ reaction so I assumed we were good. At this point I still have no idea what was going on/ what message I was supposed to be receiving other than confusion.

So following this is heavily suicide tw and I encourage you not to read this part and to scroll down until the suicide tw is over which is highlighted in bold- if you’re triggered by that because I care about those who follow my blog.

So thats when this shit happened. I had tried reaching out to her on a different fandom platform to try and maintain the friendship. Because she said numerous times that we were friends. So like I reached out thinking maybe she just didnt want a marvel blog period. It wasnt too long after that that she suicide baited me.

I was in a really bad place and had been for awhile and when I posted about how the only thing holding me on was the new comic coming out and specifically said “im seriously suicidal and this comic is the only thing giving me hope #idk what to do anymore ”. I was surprised when she liked the post.

I was three steps into a four step plan. I had everything but the method planned out and was just waffling along with that. Because yknow its complicated and you do it you make it count amiright. Right. I was in a fucked up place. I had just realized I was gay, I was horrendously depressed, I was in considerable physical pain, I was working 70 hours a week, my OCD was at an all time high and the only thing that kept me on this earth was a fucking comic book. You hold onto what you need to yknow?

WELL APPARENTLY NOT

Because this person who doesnt read her dash? This person who doesnt want to talk about anything? Liked that post where I specifically stated I was suicidal and sent me a discord message saying “dont have hope”.

Thats all it said “dont have hope”

Now I know what youre thinking but hold on because it gets worse.

I said something about being confused I dont really remember because I was pretty out of it. I do remember she kept going on about how horrible the comic would be and that it would be a piece of trash. I remember telling her I was really numb and in a bad place and couldnt feel anything. I remember her sending me screencaps and continuing to go ON AND ON about how it wasn’t worth reading.

I remember with gross intensity how someone who said they were my friend was taking away the only thing that was keeping me alive.

I dont remember how the conversation ends. I called out of work for the next three days. I was catatonically depressed and unable to really move. I didnt eat either. I went to internship, work, and school in a state of dissociation.

I took screencaps of everything and set them aside for later. IDK what I was going to use them for but I set them in a folder on my desktop, looking back I regret what I did next; because I deleted them. I deleted them because I thought maybe she had been manic or drunk and hadn’t realized the scope of what was happening. I wanted to talk to her about it and clear things up because I believed in her. I believed there was no way she would be so callous as to do that on purpose. No way would someone try and get someone they called a friend to kill themselves. So I deleted the screencaps and my post on tumblr. I deleted all evidence to protect her and I encourage you all never to fucking do that even if you think that person misunderstood the gravity of your situation. Because if you’re wrong no ones going to believe you.

I remember shifting between intense depression and total denial.

I spent the rest of that month in and out of intense dissociative states when I wasnt in class or working with my clients. During the middle of October my sister sent me pictures of a litter of puppies and I was like ‘well, i really need to either kill myself or make sure i dont’. I spent a few days continuing to waffle with that decision but then i remembered my mom cosigned my loans and I cant leave her with that debt because fuck we cant even afford my funeral to begin with. So I adopted a dog, I named him Julio to remind me to keep living and he finally came to me on halloween.

He was the only reason I left bed on my days off. I tried not to think about it but I did.

I continued to spiral with heavier dissociative episodes and vivid nightmares about it.

SUICIDE TW OVER

I waited until Christmas to ask her to clarify the situation and let her know I no longer felt comfortable writing with her. I reminded her what happened and told her to check her discord if she wanted to see for herself etc.

She sent two long asks of combative, emotionally abusive, and gaslighting accusations. The first thing she did was say I needed to provide evidence if I went around making accusations like that. Then she cascaded into how I always talked about marvel *points up to where i explained what happened earlier*. She tried gaslighting me like a champion and tried turning me into a horrible person the only problem is everything she was accusing me of doing was the shit she was doing to me. Everything.

Even if I was bad at any time I had given her numerous chances to tell me I was overstepping a boundary- she always said no. I gave her numerous times to unfollow me if she wasnt interested in interacting with me- she never did. In fact I had unfollowed her that month because of her behavior towards me and she hadnt even noticed.

I let her know I could tell she was angry, and that I didnt take receipts of private conversations because I believed in settling things like adults, and that if she ever wanted any proof it was all in her discord anyway. I let her know she could contact me to apologize but otherwise I didnt want her on any of my blogs and I told her the first thing she should have done wasnt demand receipts but she should have asked if I was okay. Its a real reflection of where her priorities were when she demands evidence rather than checks to see if a writing partner is okay.

Even if I did something horrible it doesnt warrant someone trying to get me to end my life.

I was notified she put a post on her blog apologizing to her followers for being a bad friend and that she was a horrible person and ofc everyone was like ‘noooo youre perfect’ and its like ya thats not for me who hasnt followed her in months- thats to save face.

Her friends blogs kept visiting my profile and going through the month where this happened.

Everything she did and said was to save face. Her blog and her reputation are the only thing she cared about. She has never approached me to apologize or anything of the sort and I doubt she ever will. I would hope she would never do this again and I hope she has grown as a person since. That her life is better and her mother is okay, that shes happy and learning.

I know by posting this I will never receive an apology- then again i never expected one to begin with. I could go through all the trouble of restoring the deleted files but to be honest it isnt worth it because theres no room in my life for that type of toxicity.

Since this happened I:

I have stronger episodes of depression and dissociation since.

My PTSD has increased and I have week long spikes in anxiety attacks, depression and decreased self worth if I even see her around the rpc despite being blocked, blacklisted on xkit etc.

Have more difficulty completing basic self care tasks due to an increase in depression and a decrease in self worth.

I have nightmares about this event and her to this day a year later.

I cannot interact with the RPC how I once did as I fear seeing her on my dash or any sort of information getting back to her about me.

It took me half a year to see the character she wrote as as safe again and for awhile I couldnt even look at him without experiencing an anxiety attack.

I keep having nightmares. Its been a year and I still have nightmares about this.

I find myself having more difficulties connecting with people online especially on this blog. I’m constantly on edge when interacting with people and I feel spikes of anxiety at the merest thought of someone talking about me to her.

I find myself unable to have confidence as a writer or creator online because I have been reminder of the cement wall between oc characters and their canon counterparts.

I cannot go out and just follow anyone and be friendly and trusting with them anymore, even with people I already know. In the back of my mind is a constant reminder of how she and her friends used to check up on people and pretend to write with them/ interact with them just to take screenshots of conversations to share with the group. I have become a paranoid little bitch in the past year is what Im saying. like theres 0 need for that shit.

I blocked most of the people she interacted with simply to save myself from being triggered by her blogs/ mentions of her and that isnt fair to those people.

I remember the photo incident and how people derived such joy from mocking someones body. I can think of so many incidents of them making fun of others and I remember how that could be happening about me rn, and I wonder if anyone would stick up for me like I did for the other mun.

I hope by posting this I can try and return to the person I was before this happened. I can try and not be so bitter and reach out again to others. That somehow I can continue working on making tumblr a safe place for me again and not a PTSD laced minefield.

I would like to remind this isnt a callout and I request if you know who this is about you dont say anything to them. This isnt for them. They have NEVER reached out to apologize for their actions. They have NEVER checked to see if I was okay after that. They have NEVER shown any remorse for encouraging me to kill myself and while I hope they’ve grown from the situation and will never do it again I doubt I will ever get closure from such an event. But i DO hope by writing this I can take this place back.

Consider this my first step towards bringing this up to a therapist.

Consider this another step to me taking this blog back and feeling safer here; and maybe just maybe Ill make up a cool pen name for myself and own that shit.

If you’ve read this far thank you for your patience with me, and I request you always treat your writing partners like the people that they are.

This post is not intended or written to leave this blog and therefore I request you not reblog it or share segments of it with ANYONE. If I find you have shared anything on here without my explicit permission I will block you.

‘Citrus’

#suicide tw #gaslighting tw #emotional abuse tw

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alien-at-the-dinner-table · 5 years

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The Eyebrow

I recently quit my job. For most of you, this sounds like a fairly normal thing. I mean, if you’ve ever had more than one job, there are only two ways to not be doing the first one: quitting or being fired. Of course there is the secret third option of faking your death and traveling to the cayman islands, but a prerequisite in “evil mastermind” is required there. For me, this was one of the hardest things I have ever done. When I gave my two weeks notice I thought I was going to die. I was sweating like a cornered nun, and at one point I forgot to breath and quickly ran out of air. The truth behind the unreasonable terror, the reason I nearly blacked out when telling an airpod adorned millennial I was done? I have an anxiety disorder. Shocking I know! Who would have guessed right? Until a few years ago, I certainly didn’t. I always thought that everyone hated their birthdays, dreading every single sleepover or dinner. I thought everyone would cry for months as they went to bed at the prospect of getting a shot. To be specific, I have a generalized anxiety disorder, with a very high probability that I also have obsessive compulsive disorder as well. I only got diagnosed with anxiety this last January, but only out of necessity. For those unaware of what it is like, you probably have some ridiculous caricature of what mental illness looks like. To be fair, I do things that are quite silly or odd, but that is more of a me thing than anything else. When approaching a teacher for a question, you will probably see me leaning back as I walk, looking extremely uncomfortable like a cartoon thief about to be caught. But mostly the things my anxiety and OCD make me do are quiet. I used to get up in the middle of the night to re-count my pages for my running start classes. I sometimes get an eyebrow twitch. That happened mostly when I developed a crush on a classmate last year. Because God forbid I act cool one time. Upon seeing him enter class I would have to hold it down lest it fly right off my face. It was real bad when he wore a suit to school. My poor, emotionally unstable brain couldn’t handle all that class. I stared at the table and was unable to think of any coherent thought other than “i like bird” for a good 15 minutes. I plan everything out by time, including my job. I have that down to a tee. If you asked me what I would be doing at 8:24 I would be able to tell you. I do garbage at 8:30, so I would be restocking the coolers out front or the back coolers. I save the restocking of the condiments for after 9:30 because that is after when I clean the bathrooms. I have so much free time because I have every single task assigned a time. I did that on my own, I was given only vague guidelines when training for the job. So I figured everything out on my own. And my old boss loved it, in fact he hired me because of it. In my interview he asked if I was the little girl who would always come in and color code the mentos by the register. I had been doing that since I was 10.

My anxiety has gotten worse as I have gotten older, and I eventually had to go on medication. That was in January as I said earlier. In the beginning of December I was quite happy. Then one night after work, I felt a bit nervous. If I didnt fall asleep right then and there I would get only 7 hours and 34 minutes of sleep. If I slept in I would not like how little of the day I would have left, but if I got up right at the 7 hours 33 minutes (every second I am awake is ticking down!!) I would be very tired, and how productive will I be if i'm so tired?? At 2 in the morning I was still awake. In a slow burn panic attack, I calmly got up, walked to the bathroom, and promptly threw up. Funnily enough, I was super calm, thinking to myself “that was the best darn puke I’ve ever had!”. The next few days were weird, because the nausea never quite left me. I get nauseous when I am having anxiety, but I thought I was sick. So I panicked. I felt worse. I stopped eating as much. I couldnt sleep. I ate what I could because that is what I would do as a kid. I felt worse. I threw up. Repeat. After 3 weeks of this, I had lost 10 pounds and was on the verge of a break down. Then the straw that broke the sleep deprived camel's back came in the terrifying form of a P.E. bag. The start of Christmas break was two days away, and I was running on no sleep, and little to no food. I got unto the bus after a huge physics test. As soon as I sat down I dropped the bag. Cut to 3 seconds later- I cant find my bag and immediately assume I left it in the class. So in a panic I hop off the bus before it pulls out of the school and look for it. Realizing my mistake when I do not find it, I walk home. Walking in a daze I hoped that my little sister had grabbed it. I got home. I asked if she had grabbed the bag. Replying with an eloquent: “what?” my world dissolved. I then promptly broke down and began to sob big, sad tears while my poor confused father tried to comfort me. I then missed the next day, sick to my stomach, shaking, and once again in tears. That was the day that my 3rd period class won an ice cream party. It was then decided that I should see the doctor. We got in a few days later, and I needed a blood test to make sure that nothing else was at play. If anything else hadn’t proved beyond a doubt that I had anxiety, my reaction to getting my blood drawn did. Shaking like a chihuahua doing the ice bucket challenge, I fought off tears as my mom held my gray hands. Fun fact: that can happen when your body goes into such a state of panic that your blood vessels retract into your body! Fun right? Anyhoo, a few weeks later and I began my medication.

Obviously I still have issues. I double check all the locks before bed, and I eat the same foods for lunch every week at school. I turn on all the radios in the house when I’m alone because serial killers only attack when it is quiet. The time thing hasnt gone away, and honestly I’m getting a little tired of having a paranoid conspiracy theorist living in my brain. The meds helps a lot, by giving him a fidget spinner to play with so he talks less. But he loves to make me question things. Like, did I really did put my phone in my pocket 10 seconds ago? I mean, do I specifically remember it? No? Better panic an absurd amount before checking it! My mom even mentions the word ‘dentist’ and he runs around screaming clanging cymbals like a bat out of hell. The really crazy thing is that no one realises when he is doing this. Growing up no knowing what a panic attack was, I know how to ‘hide’ them really well. They still happen, and honestly hiding them feels worse because doing that makes me physically ill. Telling people is weird too. I told a friend that I was going to therapy, and the end result was me fighting off the urge to cover my face with my hands. Not because it was horribly ignorant or shocking, I could feel my eyebrow starting up. She basically asked if I really needed therapy, and suggested investing in a fuzzy blanket. The stereotypes for mental illness make it really hard to know when you have a problem. Because people can’t see it, it makes it harder to explain that no, it really is that difficult. Do I like holding an apple core in my lap for an hour? No. But getting up feels so much scarier than looking weird. Going to therapy or being on medication is not something that ‘crazy’ people do. It’s what people do. Full stop.

#mental health #anxitey #funny

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emotual · 6 years

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after seeing that intrusive thoughts post i have to say something because this is something that bothers me a lot, and that thing being: people a. perpetuate intrusive thoughts as a lot less serious than they are b. perpetuate ocd as a lot less serious than it is. so let’s have a talk about ocd!!! i can’t tell you how many times i hear people say shit like “i needed all the markers in order by size hehe im sorry im quirky i have ocd!! uwu!!!” ocd isn’t just “i like things clean!!! im fussy about where things go!!” (a lot of people who have ocd aren’t necessarily organized and/or neat either!!) a huge part of ocd are the intrusive thoughts that come along with it. intrusive thoughts aren’t just “random” thoughts, they’re detrimental. my top ones include: 1. thinking my house is going to burn down 2. thinking all of my loved ones are in danger / will suddenly die 3. fighting the urge to drive off of the road / jump off of high places for no reason 4. thinking my car is going to blow up 5. thinking my dog is going to get killed etc. intrusive thoughts are such a large part of ocd and people often overlook them or make light off them. ocd can be all consuming. ocd is linked with other illnesses / conditions such as eating disorders, general anxiety, trichotillomania / dermatillomania, etc. ocd is serious and should be taken seriously. ocd can also develop because of trauma and/or abuse. intrusive thoughts often lead to compulsions which are behaviors to make the intrusive / obsessive thoughts less prominent or less intense. my intrusive thoughts get better and worse through time, same with my compulsions. for me personally, i have struggled with self harm because of my intrusive thoughts when they’re really bad, i also tend to unplug certain appliances, re-arrange electrical wires in a specific way, check the stove dials at least 3 times, check the locks on the house at least 3 times, check underneath of my car several times, wash my hands a lot, repeat what i’ve said over and over again because i feel like if i say the “wrong” thing i will get hurt and/or punished for it, this also causes me to say sorry a lot as well, and a big one, picking at my lips and other parts of my skin. i work on myself and this quite a lot and it has gotten better over the years. i remember when i was 12 and 13 i used to count syllables on my hands from sentences people spoke to me, and if the sentence didn’t end in a multiple of 5 or 7 syllables, i switched words around until it became “right”. i no longer do this, and thank god because it took up a lot of my time. so, what i’m saying is: take ocd seriously!!!! do research and stop getting your info about ocd from people who don’t have it / have zero knowledge about it themselves / from television shows. take those with ocd seriously, listen to them, listen to us. also, if you do have ocd, reach out to a professional if you have access to one. because as much as people make light of ocd, it is serious and you deserve for your condition to get better rather than worse. if you can’t reach out to a professional, reach out to someone else if you feel comfortable, gather information online about ways to decrease symptoms or make them less severe, join support groups online or in person. take care of yourself and know that it can get better. i love you guys

#ocd #intrusive thoughts #long post #abuse mention #self harm mention #thoughts

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coolfire333 · 2 years

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In regards to that last post, I will say that I used to check into stuff I was uncomfortable with/didn’t agree with/didn’t like and I would say “oh it’s just so I can be informed” “oh it’s to make sure I have a clear stance on xyz” “oh it’s to curate my feed so I don’t accidentally run into a bad blog” but it was really just a compulsion the whole time. I mean I was really doing it for those reasons but those reasons were compulsive and very not healthy.

Nowadays I have gotten better about my “I must know 100% of everything with 100% certainty” obsession to the point where I don’t go seeking out upsetting or disagreeable stuff just to block it on tumblr anymore. If I come across something on my dash that I don’t like I’ll block, but I’ve basically stopped obsessing over it to the point where I need to search it out in order to “get rid of it” or to “check” my views on it

It’s honestly hard being online when you have perfectionistic and morality ocd but I think being aware of what I’m doing has helped a lot, that and the medication

#talking #text post #serious

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soloimtiredlad · 3 years

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I've been so mentally tired lately. More than when I first joined tumblr. When I first joined Tumblr I was angry and in pain.

Now I'm just tired and I want to be left alone. I want to see things I enjoy and ignore everything else, but I feel bad doing that. Ignoring the pressing matters of the world because I know I can't take it.

Seeing post talking about the issues people have, how you can help, and how if you aren't helping you aren't a good person. It pisses me off.

You can't guilt people into helping. Yes, it's important to spread things and help others - but making people feel like shit in the process isn't the way to fucking do it.

After this point I'm going into the problems I've been having, incase yall don't want to see that I'm putting a keep reading thing. When people talk about their issues I know it can be tiring for others, and I don't wanna cause this shit to get worse when that's literally what I'm dealing with. I just wanna explain - I know I don't HAVE to explain shit to anyone (nobody does.), but some people need to understand that this kind of thing is toxic.

Back in the summer of last year (2020) I came out as trans. I was trying to find my way with my gender. Then after figuring myself out more, a month or so ago I came out as gender fluid. Since then my mom has completely stopped using he/him pronouns for me, and doesn't even use they/them.

when I came out as Gender Fluid I expressed to my parents that I wanted to be called Alister/Alice/V/Ace. My parents basically laughed at me and told me they weren't going to use multiple different names for me, and that it'd be impossible to know when to call me by what name. On the topic of my name, my mother (whenever the topic of my name is brought up) talks about it makes her upset that I don't like my birth name of Brianna or that I refuse to use it. The last time it was brought up I literally screamed at her about how fucking selfish it was that she's putting her own feelings over mine when it comes to MY name.

In the past two months I was kicked off my dads insurance by accident. In that time I've been unmedicated for my anxiety, which my anxiety meds only barely helped to hold me together. My depression has gotten worst. I've still gotten zero help for my OCD, and I know that I have other mental disorders because my psychologist that I had four years ago (Which I stopped going to because they only focused on getting me through school and doing my school work and not my actual fucking mental health issues - to the point of even down playing and saying I over reacted to past things I've dealt with) expressed to me multiple different mental illnesses that I could have but my parents didn't let her test me at the time and because I was 16 I had to have their okay to be test.

Speaking of which my parents recently refused to even admit that they ever kept me from being tested even though in the past they had admitted to me that they had. In the past though they've also said a bunch of contradicting shit at different points to make their points (I say they but it's all been my mom.).

I've been sick with Mono since July, the medicine I was put on was literally making me sick so I had to stop taking it, but then because of Covid, and lack of money (even when I was insured) on my parents part I've been kept from going back to the doctors. And my parents are expecting me to carry on like I'm not sick as fuck.

I've had two cavity's that have been hurting me since the beginning of the year but my dentist won't do shit about it, then I tired going to a different dentist but my anxiety got so bad that I literally passed out before the appointment. And now because I'm uninsured I can't go to get them taken care of even though I really fucking want to.

My head is so fussy and it's so hard to focus that it's even hard to play minecraft, listen to a podcast/live stream or enjoy ANYTHING.

I've always had really bad headaches, but in the past week my eyes have been loosing focus and becoming shaky which has been causing my head to pound in so much fucking pain. And I've been super dizzy.

THAT'S JUST THE HEALTH ISSUSES AND SOME OF THE BULLSHIT WITH MY PARENTS.

My parents refused to let me get a job till I got my GED, but I couldn't focus enough to get my GED and because I wasn't making process my parents were getting pissed at me. So I have no way of being independent from them. And my parents are poor - we're barely living pay check to pay check and I can't do fucking anything to help. BUT even if I were to get a job now I'm in no shape to hold one.

I feel distant from my two brothers (completely ignoring the fact that I have a sister because we basically have no fucking relationship between us.) and it's only getting worse because I feel like I'm fucking constantly disappointing them and I used to go to them about my problems but I never felt better about it, I've only ever felt worse. Speaking of which we have a discord group we're all apart of but I barely talk in it and I feel unwanted in it. NONE of the people have made me feel unwanted but because of how I was treated by friends in the past I always assume I'm unwanted and I can't stop that way of thinking no matter how hard I try.

The only thing that has been getting me through the day has been me entertaining the thought of reincarnation and living a better life in my next life with my family and being able to be happy and live my dreams.

While writing this, I've realized that this is the first time I've cried in months. I feel suicidal but I don't want to try that again. I feel like I can't reach out for help - that this post that will disappear into the fucking void without anyone seeing it is the closest I can get to pleading for help.

So yeah. making people feel like they should repost something or else they're a shitty person is a fucking awful thing to do.

#rambles #depression tw #mental illness tw #tw scuicide

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burningemberjade-blog · 7 years

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10 Questions Tag

Thanks for the tag, @dragonscanbeplantstoo! Seriously, I love these things, and I squee a little inside when I get tagged in something. So never feel bad!

I’m going to answer these based on my Archetypes WIP. For more info on that, check out the Archetypes WIP page on my blog. :))

1. What is your proudest moment as a writer? In terms of actual writing, an amazing pun or gorgeous metaphor or killer chapter ending, etc. I don’t know about my proudest moment, like ever, but right now I really love this: “She sang like a nightingale; piercingly, and early in the morning.” Stupid simile, I know, but it makes me chuckle.

2. Do you listen to specific music for specific works? Make playlists? If so, post one! I have soooo many playlists on Spotify, but my go to is either “It’s a trap!” or “Writing Music”. If those are tiring me, I’ll throw on a soundtrack from Master & Commander, Anna Karenina, You, Me, & Gravity, or just classical music.

3. Which of your OCs is the hardest to write, and why? Hmmm...Probably Jazz. He’s the leader of the Cohort, so he has to be authoritative but understanding, arrogant but likable, aloof but not angsty...ugh, he’s a paradox but I love him.

4. What’s the best writing compliment you’ve ever gotten? My creative writing professor in college wrote on one of my creative non-fiction essays that I had real potential as a story teller, and that I was a raconteause. This was one of the best things he could have said, and to this day I still have that essay with his kind words on the back.

5. What scares you most about publishing/sharing your work? That I’ll go through all this pain and hardship, and it will just be another eBook that my friends read out of pity.

6. Does worldbuilding or characterization take you longer? Worldbuilding. For sure. Characters pop into my head fully formed, worlds take forever to construct. I’m not sure why.

7. (Stealing from Siri cuz I like this) What would your fandom symbol be? (The Deathly Hallows from HP, ring from LOTR). At this point I don’t have one. Working on it!

8. Do you research before you start writing, or just jump in and makes notes of what you need to look up? Definitely just jump in and jot down notes. Sometimes I’ll have a research day where all I do is just research facts to strengthen the story.

9. Is it better to stop for the day in the middle of a scene or the end? It would probably be better if I stopped in the middle, that way I could pick it up better the next day. But I’m kind of OCD, and that really bugs me, so I like to try and finish a scene if possible. Or at least jot notes of where I need to go for next time.

10. And since this was a hot topic today, how do you go about giving characters flaws? Do character flaws or plot come into your brain first? My brain is constantly full of plot holes. My characters emerge more or less perfect, and I have to work to give them flaws. As a writer, I understand they need flaws or they’re flat, but as a momma no one gets to tell my baby’s that they have issues. Even me.

These were super fun, and great questions! I’m using these, and I’m tagging @merigreenleaf, @joshuareed36, @mj--writes, @vwritesfiction, and anyone else who wants to play!

#archetypes #ember's writing #correction: ember's trying to write #tag game #archetypes wip #original content

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splashmommy · 7 years

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Ronda Helped Me

Guys, I just ran two miles in the freezing fucking cold. Full disclosure, I speed walked them. Also it was only one mile, I just checked my pedometer because I have major OCD and can’t stand being inaccurate. So here’s the accurate story, I spent the last three solid hours of this afternoon laying on my couch eating pretzels, chugging coffee, and slowly crawling to the end of Christine (a Stephen King book which I’m ashamed to admit has taken me almost two months to finish. Sorry, there was just a lot of football and mechanics to push through in the beginning before the love triangle kicked in). Believe you me, I did not want to get off that couch. I could have continued sitting there in my five year old christmas jammy pants for, at the very least, another eight hours, and I would have, had it not been for Ronda Rousey.

Y’all. I watched wrestling again last night for the first time in a long time. Let me set the scene for you. I had just gotten home from a long day of work and I wanted nothing more than to microwave a Kashi meal and dive deep into The Tank (this is what I call Shark Tank) to see what disparaging things Mr. Wonderful had to say about Barbara or the retail industry as a whole while I dug deeply into some Chimichurri Quinoa. I had yet to change and unwind fully from my work day when my life partner, Craig, dropped the bomb. He told me that the WWE Royal Rumble pay per view that had been blaring from the living room was about to close out with a Women’s Main Event Royal Rumble. Wait, hold the fuck on, you mean the ladies are closing the show? HEADLINING AN EVENT?!

Then he told me that there were rumors that Ronda Rousey might surprise debut during the match.

Fuck. And yes.

So I sat my ass down, right there, on our grey cat scratched couch and proceeded to fall deep, deep into the world of, what we now call the WWE Women’s Division. Now full disclosure again on me here, I’m not what you would call a “lifelong wrestling fan”. I have dipped my toe in and out of the ring over the last decade since falling in love with a massive self-proclaimed monday night rasslin’ nut (Craig’s still got it!). I’ve been to Monday Night Raw two or three times. I attended Wrestlemania in Atlanta in 2011 (although honestly I slept through some of it because, again full disclosure, it was kind of a weird time for me). My husband and I once yelled “BAZINGA!” while waving a hot yellow hand made sign that said “BAZINGA!” at Daniel Bryan while we jumped up and down over a fence in the backlot of a Raleigh arena. He was getting inside his truck to leave, he did a little chuckle and an eye roll when he saw us before pulling out of the parking lot. It was pretty neat. We have since referred to this moment as “The time we bazinga’d Daniel Bryan.” We are still very proud.

Now that I think of it, there was also this brief period in the late nineties where I got really into The Wolf Pack. I had a crush on a new kid in my sixth grade class at church named Jonathan who talked a lot about the NWO. I tentatively watched a couple of matches with my big bro, initially just so I could understand my crush a little better and have something in common to talk about if I ever got the courage to speak to him. I kept watching it after I was over him though, because there was something silly and really cathartic that I liked about watching magnetic people beating the fake crap out of eachother. I also liked recreating the moves on my older brother.

At this point I feel like I need to mention that the WWF Superstars performance of “If You Only Knew” from the 1987 Slammy Awards is my favorite thing on the internet. I literally dare everyone to try to watch it without getting up off the couch to side step shuffle.

So you could say I’m a casual, medium-rare-to-medium wrestling fan. My interest has waned in the past due to personal issues I have with bad storylines, uninteresting characters, negative stereotypes, and just the over-all regressive awfulness that’s been associated with the empire Vince McMahon built. However as I’m not an expert in the field, I’m going to kick my soapbox to the side and let you guys form your own opinions of the franchise/network that is Wrestling Entertainment. I’m just here to say that once that Royal Rumble match started, my ass was glued to that couch for fifty-seven solid minutes. Guys, I had to pee. I wanted that hot Kashi when I sat down but once the match set in and that buzzer started sounding I was hooked like an addict.

It was more than just the lure of landing a possible crossover Superstar like Ronda Rousey, although yes that was a major pull. The thing that had me transfixed was the women duking it out on screen. They looked real. There was diversity in their style, shapes, sizes, personalities, presence, moves, motivation, and attitudes. They were kicking eachothers asses, but that wasn’t the thing that was surprising me. What really got me giddy was hearing the announcers commenting on their individual training, hobbies, stats, and accomplishments as wrestlers and people. It felt like I was watching the cast of GLOW acting out a live in ring performance, as if the Royal Rumble had somehow morphed into a real life extension of my favorite Netflix show. Y’all before I get on my feminist soapbox here, which yes admittedly I’m already standing on, can I just say one word that might make everyone understand where I’m coming from? Here goes,

Divas.

Jesus, without going into the full history let me just say that the WWE’s decision to evolve what was referred to as the Divas Division into the WWE Women’s Championship, thus rebranding “Divas” as “Women Superstars/ Superstars” is phenomenal. I mean, is the term “Superstar” phenomenal? No not really, it’s super corny. But that’s what they call the guys, so at least it’s equal. That’s what I dig. Equality. Equal playing ground for badass, ripped AF, war-painted, teeth baring, rage-fueled, gladiatrices who don’t give a fuck about spray tans. That’s what I mostly saw, and loved on my TV screen two nights ago.

I thought I had had my fill. My just desserts. I was nibbling on a secret stash of maple fudge couch-side at this point to celebrate. I thought it was all over. I got up, went into the kitchen, searched the freezer, only to figure out that I was totally out of Kashi Chimichurri Quinoa (BUMMER), and was about to ransack the cupboards when I heard Craig yell, “ABB GET IN HERE SOMETHING’S HAPPENING!”

So I ran. As I was crossing over from kitchen to living room I heard it. “I don’t give a damn ‘bout my reputation…” I was air guitaring now. “Never been afraid of any deviation” full on running in place. “A girl can do what she wants to do and that’s what I’m gonna do,” at this point I did my famous mid-air spin kick and which shook our living room furniture so hard that Craig yelled at me and told me I needed to calm down. “An’ I don’t give a damn ‘bout my bad reputation!”

No. No. No. No. FUCK ME!

Dude. Y’all. Guys. I LOVE RONDA ROUSEY. I’M IN LOVE WITH RONDA ROUSEY AND I DON’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT.

Seriously though folks, I nearly collapsed from exhaustion after running/dancing/karate-chopping my couch and cats in excitement over this empowering series of events. First off, we have this whimsical beast named Asuka win the whole thing, we all think it’s over, then wham-bam-thank-you-MISTRESS we get a surprise pop-in from the Queen Boss herself, former everything weight champion, Ronda Rousey. I ran in place for the entire segment. I shook the furniture. I ignored Craig’s pleading. Naturally I spent the following morning reading the entire Rousey wikipedia and her full Reddit AMA. Naturally I am obsessed, inspired, and stoked that my interest in a fandom that I’ve been hot and cold is officially rekindled. Oh it’s more than just rekindled- it’s ON FIRE!

I was on the WWE website looking up tour dates first thing this morning. I ordered an officially licensed “Hot Ronda” ladies tee shirt off the WWE website.You can check my search history. Wait. No, don’t check my search history (at least give me like five seconds before you check it). I considered watching The Expendable 3 and Furious 7. Seven. Just to catch a glimpse of my muscle-bound muse. I already mentioned my soap box earlier, so I’m not gonna spend any more time than I need to up here. I do need to say though, that after reading up on Ronda Rousey’s life it’s safe to say that she’s tough as nails and authentic as fuck. She’s lived through shit, pushed past difficulty, and carved a place for herself in the universe with her own two, very powerful hands. She’s also beautiful and I want to smell her hair. In a respectful way.

Thinking about Ronda Rousey, reading about Ronda Rousey, and getting jazzed on life in general as a result is what got my ass up off the couch today. Sometimes I think about the main girl from the third Child’s Play movie doing push ups during that military camp scene when I need yoga motivation, today it was pure Women’s Division. Pure Rousey. I’m glad I got out there and hit the pavement today. I’m glad Ronda’s back and I’m beyond ecstatic to see where this new era of women’s professional wrestling entertainment will lead. Wait, we haven’t even talked about the fact that there’s an actual steampunk women’s wrestler currently on the roster. Her name is Becky Lynch, she travels through time, I just checked. While checking, I noted that the term “diva” was still in use on the official WWE website. Guys, I realize that not everything can or will change all at once. I’m just grateful that we’re moving full speed ahead and with Ronda Rousey on our side.

#ronda rousey #wwe #royal rumble #women's wrestling #girl power

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purplesurveys · 5 years

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674

Do you listen to music while you fill out surveys? I have moods where I can and moods where I can’t. But when I do listen to music while taking surveys, I can only ever listen to lo-fi tracks because they’re super chill and great as background sound. Right now is one of the times I have them on.

In the past week, what song have you listened to the most often? I think I’ve mostly been stressed about updates on the virus, so I actually haven’t been listening to any music all week. This is the first time I’ve sat down and let myself listen to my go-to lo-fi playlist.

What was the last thing you shared with someone else? I shared some of my dinner with my dog, if that counts.

While playing video games, do you prefer being first or second player? Second, because I definitely don’t know how to play most video games all that well haha. I’d rather be the second player just cluelessly/aimlessly following around.

What is the most difficult word for you to pronounce? I cannot pronounce ‘bureaucracy’ for the life of me. ‘Mirror’ can also be a bitch but because i watch too much American media, my Filipino ass just goes right ahead and says it as ‘mirr.’

What did you have to do for the last homework you were assigned? The last homework I turned in before the lockdown happened was the weekly article I had to submit for my business reporting class. I gotta say, as a mostly introverted journalism student, I’m SO GLAD there’s been a way out of having to do interviews and produce articles haha. I see you looking out for me for once, universe.

You’ve planned a roadtrip. Where are you going, and who’s coming too? Tagaytay. It’s always a good destination for a chill roadtrip that’s not too far, doesn’t require a full tank of gas, and not too much of a hassle. I’m bringing my college clique with me – JM, Luisa, Jo, Aya, Kate, Kezhia, Blanch – and Gabie, too.

Do you have an overactive imagination? I have little to zero imagination. I mean I guess I like thinking of scenarios, but beyond that me and creativity just don’t mesh well at all.

What was the last important thing that you thought about? That five minutes ago it was time for me to put eye drops on my left eye once again. That eye been working well in the last few weeks, so I had it checked by an opthalmologist, who said there’s most likely a scar somewhere in my eyeball and proceeded to prescribe drops for me.

Generally, do you call people, or wait for them to call you? I would never call people first other than Gabie. Thankfully mostly everyone I know hates calls as well and would never call first, so no one ever calls me either.

On average, how many texts do you send out each day? On a normal day, maybe 50-100 texts? It’s my main mode of communication with my girlfriend, but it also depends on how busy we are during the day.

If a cop pulled you over for speeding, how would you respond? I don’t think speeding is a traffic violation here because 1) the congestion EVERYWHERE is horrible and the traffic is a crawl all day long, and 2) I’ve seen people drive like maniacs on expressways and they never get pulled over for it. On the hypothetical instance that I do get stopped for speeding, I’d obey and apologize for it, and just hope they aren’t rude as fuck.

Has anyone ever questioned your sanity? I have questioned it MANY, many times in the past, mostly when I was in my early teens and still battling with a lot of anger, depression, and a lot of other emotions like I’m guessing most teens do.

How many people do you depend on? As much as I’m not the closest with my parents I do depend on them for basically everything. For now.

How many people do you think depend on you? I dunno if there’s anyone that does. I rather they don’t - I’m pretty unstable.

What is the worst color combination? I’d imagine red and purple to look so jarring.

Have you ever injured yourself walking around in the dark? I don’t think so.

When you get a papercut, how do you react? I thankfully haven’t gotten one in a while, but in the past I’ve usually never noticed the moment it happens, and I only ever find out when the pain hits like a few hours later. That said, I don’t really have a choice but to sigh and grit my teeth through the pain for the next few days.

Can you type without looking down at the keyboard? Yes. The only time I do is when I have to use the keys that aren’t letters, like |, }, and $.

At what age did you develop an interest in the opposite [or same] sex? Opposite sex: Probably literally never. I did attend soirees in high school and got invited to a senior ball – but these were only because I did what I thought a high school girl was supposed to do. I was never genuinely interested in boys. Same sex: I’d say Grade 6, when I had a feeling that I had a crush on Andi.

Are you or members of your family religious? It’s safe to say my entire family – both sides – is devoutly Catholic. They share Bible verses, go to Church, say a prayer before meals, all that crap. I am definitely not. I’ve seen so many people use the religion stuff to justify their being an asshole/hypocrite/both, so it was very for me to let all the bullshit facade go from a young age.

What is your opinion on religions other than your own? They’re valid, especially if it helps one become a better person. Don’t use it to strip others of their human rights, though.

What’s so scary about clowns, anyway? The make-up makes them humans that do not look like humans, and that has always been unsettling for us I think.

When was the last time you acted like someone you’re not? I don’t really do this; I like wearing my heart on my sleeve.

Have you ever wished that something bad would happen to someone else? LMAO yep from time to time.

When was the last time that you cleaned your room? My room is generally clean. My mom likes keeping the entire house tidy, so I just help her out and do my part for her mild OCD.

How many hats do you own/wear? I have one sun hat but it was an impulse buy. I’ve never worn it out because IT’S JUST SO BIG AND FLOPPY and I hate wearing stuff that’s flamboyant enough to give me attention.

What was the last thing that you printed? The aforementioned business news article I had to submit.

Did the last song you listened to hold any special meaning? I love the song, it’s profound and beautifully written but it’s also a particularly sad one, and it’s not one of the songs I’d want to be attached to because that would just make me sad all the time. The song was Hayley Williams’ Leave It Alone.

Are you experiencing problems within a current relationship? No, not at all.

When you’re upset, who do you turn to? Depends on the problem. For most crises I’d turn to Gabie, but sometimes I’d talk to Angela, and sometimes I’d keep to myself. Does winter weather depress you? I’ve never experienced winter. I always say that I have a feeling I’d like it because I like being cold and hot chocolate and wearing socks and feeling fuzzy, but now that I think about it, given how miserable Christmas already makes me, I feel like winter may probably just be the worst thing ever for me.

Who was the last person that you called? Gab, just before she fell asleep a few hours ago.

What product was being advertised on the last commercial you saw? A website for online shopping. It played before a YouTube video.

Do you ever wonder who sings the catchy commercial jingles? I don’t care for them, tbh. When you think about your last relationship, what song comes to mind? I Forget Where We Were by Ben Howard reminds me of my first stint with Gab. Six years ago when we first got together, she introduced the song to me and was being emotional to me about it, and I remember feeling unsettled right off the bat with her sharing such a somber song. I never really got over that feeling and to this day I still listen to it only when I’m sad.

Are there any lyrics to describe your current crush/relationship? Maybe if I wanted to think about it, but I don’t care to right now. <– Same <- Also same. I hate survey questions that make me think of lyrics on the spot.

Who in your life makes you the most uncomfortable? [continued from like a day and a half ago, lmao] My mom has comments and criticisms for everyone and everything, so I always find myself getting anxious around her.

Do you ever receive comments on your weight? That’s literally the greeting of choice in Filipino culture. No one here ever says “hi!” they all just remark how fat or thin you got from the last time they saw you.

Is there anything that you do just to make other people happy? There isn’t any one thing that I do. I’ve realized the people around me have different needs for them to be happy, so if I’m able to and if I’m mentally stable myself, I do those things for them.

When you need a temporary escape, what do you do? Open Tumblr and take a survey or two. If I don’t feel like it, I go on YouTube and watch Friends recaps.

What was the last lie that you believed in? If I believed in it I wouldn’t know it was a lie, if that makes sense.

How long did your last feelings of heartbreak last? I stopped actively mourning for Nacho (i.e. crying randomly while in school, listening daily to the playlist I curated to deal with his passing) around two months after he passed, but I would be lying if I said the heartbreak isn’t there anymore. I still think of him every day, and it makes me sad every day.

Is there any sport that you would want to learn to play? Volleyball would be cool to learn.

What band would you most like to meet? Paramore, obviously. Or One Direction, if they still count :((

Do you ever have difficulty opening pill-bottle caps? I mean I’ve never really had to, so I wouldn’t know if I’d find it hard.

Do you gain weight around the holidays? My metabolism’s always been pretty fast so even if I do eat a lot during the holidays, it’s barely noticeable.

Are you related to anyone famous, or to any historical figure? I’m related to one of the Filipinas who sewed the first Philippine flag; to a historian whose works are now widely used in history courses; and the diplomat who represented the Philippines in the signing of the Treaty of Paris. As a kid I often thought my love for history was rather odd (because no other kid seemed to like it), but now I have a reason to think it has always run in my blood. Today I’m related to a political clan in my maternal grandfather’s home province, but I wouldn’t use ‘famous’ as the word for them.

If it was an option, would you take a trip into outer space? Oh yeah absolutely. I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid.

What was the last thing that you wrote down [with a pen/pencil]? I practiced my high school’s penmanship, both because I really do practice it from time to time so I don’t end up being rusty, and because Andrew is dating Leigh, a friend from high school, in the weirdest crossover episode ever, and he is currently invested into learning our script hahaha.

Has anyone told you that you have a nice smile? Sure.

Are you uncomfortable with being photographed? Yeah ugh I hate it, especially when I have to be photographed or posed all by myself.

How vivid are your memories? Very vivid. I have a number of memories from every age, most of which I can remember pretty much as clear as day, from where I was down to the conversations that took place.

What’s the earliest you’ve woken up in the past week? Like 7:30 AM.

How many people have you talked to today? I’m too lazy to count so I’ll just name them: my mom, dad, sister, Gabie, JM, Apple, Hannah, Rick, Reiven, Ed, Kate, Laurice, and Abby. I’m also in Messenger group chats for each class I’m part of this sem, and all day we’ve been talking about how we’ll move forward now that my school has suspended online classes as well, so long story short I’ve talked to a buuuunch of people.

What was the last reason behind why you went to the hospital? Haven’t been in one since I was admitted myself a decade ago for a low platelet count, which we nearly thought was dengue.

When journaling, are you honest when documenting your feelings? Yes, I get super honest in this blog because this is the only place where I can be that way, and that’s why I’m super hesitant to open this up to anyone.

If you have a journal, do you ever worry others might find it? Gab asks me about it every now and then and it innately makes me anxious haha. Outside of her, I don’t think anyone in my circle would ever check for surveys on Tumblr.

When you go camping, do you sleep in a tent or an RV? I’ve never camped before but I think an RV would be convenient.

What’s one ridiculous thing that you do? Before I eat fried chicken, I will always peel off the breading/skin first so I can save it for last. I don’t like the actual meat, so I’ll only eat some of it and give the rest to my dog. My mom has since called the chicken skin portion my ‘finale,’ so I eventually adopted the term as well haha.

Do you feel that you must wear make up to be attractive? No dude. I never wear makeup and I’ve always felt confident, looks-wise.

What was the last thing [other than the keyboard] that you touched? My phone, just now.

Ever done anything dangerous while driving with someone else in the car? I’ve texted and taken calls whether I’m alone or driving with someone. If I’m running late I’ll also comb my hair with one hand. I’ve done sexual stuff while I was driving also hahahgdjshgfsf but there’s no need to get into that.

Name someone you wish you could be closer with? The newly-inducted members of our org, and the newest applicants as well! Everybody seems like cool people, and it sucks that the virus has prevented us from getting together.

Have you ever played the license plate game on long car-trips? Sure, but we also have other games to entertain us because car trip games can get boring pretty fast.

Are you a secretive person, or are you open with your thoughts? I have secrets but I’m very open about them if they happen to be raised. Like with me, all you have to do is ask haha.

What is the worst question that someone could ask you? Those dumb ones on surveys that ask if I’d rather kill my mom or best friend lol.

Do you talk to your pets? Every single time I see him.

Do you have a least favorite day of the year? Either Christmas or New Year’s Eve. The loneliness is something I wouldn’t wish on anybody.

What traits do you look for in a potential BF/GF? I’m demisexual, so I never really compiled a list of traits.

Would you date someone that had a different religion from you? Only if they didn’t let it get in the way of my atheism. You do you, but don’t drag me to your thanksgivings, rituals, holy texts, etc.

Right now, what’s in your bookbag/backpack? I honestly have no idea. I haven’t looked inside for so long HAHAHA

What’s unique about your city or town? We have an elevated part that we call ‘higher [city name]’ because it’s the part of the city that’s on a mountain and a base that we, understandably, call ‘lower [city name]’. I live in the lower area, which is busier and nearer to the metro. I don’t know of any other city in the Philippines where one half is situated higher and another lower.

If you could say something to the world, what would you say? Don’t panic, don’t hoard basic necessities, and don’t be fucking racist.

#survey #surveys

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elle-stevens · 5 years

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The Break Up Blog - Day Thirty Nine

This is getting harder and harder to do every day.

Don’t get me wrong, keeping a blog about my feeling since breaking up with X has been helpful and even cathartic to an extent. But dredging up every moment in my memory and every feeling that comes with it is exhausting.

I slept alright save for the hours when I kept waking up and stressing about class. Every Friday, the students now have to write a diary entry in the books that C designed. Simple in theory, right? Except the elementary students at our school seem to genuinely have zero English skills. Or they have the requisite skills, but get completely flustered when they actually have to use it, kinda like me and my ambiguous relationship with Mandarin.

So I changed the topics for grades 3 and 4 and thought that simplifying their task would help by writing vocabulary on the board. It kinda worked with grade 3 and all the students in my class managed to write a few sentences each.

But grade 4?

For 40 minutes, I sincerely thought that I was in a zoo and all the wild animals had gotten loose. One of my autistic students had a very OCD day and wouldn’t stop shouting out ‘The bus isn’t here!’ in Korean, too many of my boys were queuing up in front of the classroom computer to use the online dictionary. And of course, SB had a dumb fight with with another student, E, and legit walked out of my class and slammed the door on top of it.

I’d love to say that the latter pissed me off simply because SB was in the middle of it. But he’s actually been relatively well-behaved in class in the last two weeks, almost like he’s had a lobotomy. And honestly, by the time he pulled that crap on me, I was too exhausted and dumb-founded to take offence. Now that I’m thinking on it now, I definitely need to tell SH about what happened in class. I hate to bother her about it because she already has to deal with this nonsense as their homeroom teacher, but I’ve just had it with the total disregard for my authority in class.

I was forced to sit in the grade 6 homeroom and wait for them even though I knew they wouldn’t make it for class while having their school event during the day. I don’t get why the homeroom teachers force the foreign teachers to hang about like chumps during school events in the unlikelihood that the event will finish early and we’ll be able to pick up the slack with the dregs of the class period? It’s starting to feel like I went back to university two years ago and got a teaching certificate for nothing. I’m just an over-glorified babysitter at this point in my life and it sucks.

N came to find me while I kept the grade 6 classroom warm (or chilled in this case because the afternoon was hot af). She wanted to have her ‘official’ conversation with me about renewing my contract at the school. I did change things up a bit when N mentioned tried to persuade me to consider applying for a teaching position in the high school department of our school. I initially wanted to do that months ago, but ML was pretty adamant that I was unable to change the terms of my contract since my school only hires high school teachers in the second semester and my contract ends in February next year. Never mind the fact that I initially interviewed for a high school position at my school before coming to my city, but got recruited into the elementary department at the last second when one of the teachers broke his contract in the middle of the school year. But who really cares about minor details like that?

I told N I’d keep an open mind about it if she could swing things for me to work teach high school instead. I stopped considering it before when I thought that ML would stay in the managerial position for another year. But C told me that ML’s going back to Korea next year, so working under a new manager might actually be better. H might get pissed off at me for switching departments though; she’d probably take it as a personal affront to her management style. It is in part because of that, but honestly, I’m just done in general with this school. It’s too much bullshit layered with bullshit at every turn.

After my meeting with N, I went back to my office, only for H to talk to me about a punishment I gave my fifth graders two days when they wouldn’t shut up in class. Instead of disciplining the students in my own way, H suggested that I turn the classroom in a democracy and let the students decide on their own punishments and rewards in the near future. It’s a great idea in theory, but now that I think about it, it’s basically an FU to the teacher. As it turns out, I’m pretty much irrelevant in my own classroom.

And people actually wonder why teachers want to leave this school...

I saw N and ML talking out of the corner of my eye while H talked to me. I guess N gave ML the ‘good news’ about me wanting to leave. I could care less at this point. H’s eyes looked strangely red-rimmed during our talk, like she was seconds away from crying. I wonder if she heard about my news already? Who knows and honestly, who cares at this point?

I’m over it.

Still, I sat with CI at lunch and we had a good talk about our different classroom woes. He’s become a really good work buddy, I’m glad that C picked him out from a sea of what was probably a lot of crap teachers. Even talking to N about some of my minor grievances helped too. I even found time during the day to perform surgery on a clay doll one of my third grade girls made that had its leg and sword hilt (I don’t know what kids are into these days, lol) ripped off by her classmate. I went home to get my glue gun because the departmental ones are suddenly missing and I sutured the old sport’s injuries. Then I left said doll in the third grade homeroom, I hope my little chica finds it there.

All of this dumb shit that happened - It’s ok really when I think about it. Now I know that I’m done with being treated this way. Good luck to my school principal with finding teachers that are half as competent and caring as C, me and even CI, even though he’s staying another year.

After all the fuckery at work and the number that X pulled on me, I’m done with people taking me for a James Blunt in my professional and personal capacities.

‘James Blunt’ in this case is British rhyming slang. Do yourself a favour and look it up, it’ll give you a good laugh.

I may look like a ‘James Blunt’, I may even act like a ‘James Blunt’ when I’m taking the piss. But don’t get it twisted: I am not a fucking James Blunt by any stretch of the imagination. You can’t fuck with me and expect me to treat you the same way ever again.

It only needs to happen once. And after that, I’m done with you. I may smile at you and even help you with things from time to time. But I will never open myself up to you again.

That’s what happened to X in the end and I can see how it will happen with some of my current colleagues as the months progress. I thought it was kind of C watching C and H’s friendship turn to shit in real time when H became our manager. But I get how it happened: when you get a little of anything good, it makes you selfish and you end up turning on the people around you.

I did that when I dated X. She became the centre of my universe and I lost track of everything and everyone. I even had a huge fight with P and G because of X when I used too much bandwidth from the family router to video call X every day for a year.

That was a really bad fight and the way my siblings looked at me while it happened still haunts me. It’s like they saw me, but an uglier version, and they didn’t like it one bit.

I shudder when I think of that memory, especially when it was all for nothing with X. I nearly lost my relationship with my brother and sister over X. And what the fuck was even the point of it all?

I don’t ever want to be that way again the next time I fall in love. I want to go into the whole affair with my eyes completely open.

There were some positives at work. Besides having some good heart-to-hearts, my colleagues really liked the coconut tarts I baked for them. Even if they were just blowing smoke up my ass, it felt good to hear the compliments and know that I’m not sucking at this too.

I’m feeling really tired today, so I hope I have enough energy to exercise in a little while. I ordered dinner from a chicken restaurant below my apartment complex, I’ll cook something tomorrow. Since R wants me to charge me an arm and a leg for a physiotherapy consultation, I made an appointment at a local clinic tomorrow instead so a doctor can look at my right arm that keeps twinging whenever I move it. I hope someone speaks English there, I’m tired of floundering about like a beached whale with zero Chinese speaking skills.

My sinuses are still pestering me, but not as bad as before. I still have to check through my student diaries this weekend and mark and correct them. That’s a problem that can wait till tomorrow after I’ve had a good night’s sleep. D’s birthday gift finally arrived, I also have to figure out when I can drop it off at her apartment.

I just want to rest this weekend and not think about anything. After Sunday, I’ll be done with my current workout programme; I might switch to something simpler like swimming after this.

I’m just done.

My body and brain need a proper rest.

I might stop writing these blog entries after Sunday is over, I’ll see how I feel. Right now, I don’t want to think and just drift off deeper into myself.

#breakupblog #daythirtynine

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oh-beyond · 7 years

Text

Sweat AU - One shot [M]

Suho liked to go to the gym which made him sweaty… I hated it, but I learn that I was wrong…

Suho x reader

Warning: Smut +18

Masterlist

A/N: OK so I am OCD myself, so don’t be bashing me about this one, I think for Suho I might put my anxiety aside...

Birthday feels, happy 26th birthday bunny prince.

“But I told you I could shower there, and you say you don’t like it”

“How can you shower in the gym? All the germs and god knows who used it before”

“But then if I don’t shower there of course I stink, what do you want me to do? Build a shower in the backyard so you don’t get disturbed when I come back home?”

“I didn’t say that Junmyeon. But don’t kiss me when you are dripping sweat, I told you I can’t stand it”

And that is how it went. My relationship with Junmyeon couldn’t be better, everything was perfect. Everything except that he liked to go to the gym too often and I can’t stand the smell of sweat and how sticky he looks when he comes back. It’s beyond me...

Today was his birthday and I was planning something really big for him, I will make extra special... but not just yet.

He wakes me up with a light kiss on my forehead, his feather-like kiss is everything I look forward every morning. Even today that it was his birthday and I was supposed to wake him up with a kiss. He’s done it again.

Being perfect.

“I have late shift today Jun, let me sleep”

“I’ll prepare us breakfast”

He was unbelievable, he was going to make breakfast on his birthday... how lucky was I?

I washed my face and comb my hair and I go downstairs following the fresh bread smell. He even had time to cycle to the bakery and get my favourite pumpkin seed bread.

I sit down and frown when I see that he is again sweaty, he comes over and gives me a kiss on my cheek, I wipe it immediately.

“Junmyeon~~~ don’t touch me when you sweat! OMG like why can’t you memorise this?”

“Sorry baby you just look so inviting and I w-”

“Don’t touch me!” I continued, he watched me as I kept nagging “why can’t you respect my freaking anxious ass? You have no consideration, I told you like a thousand times. Like I don’t even comment on the socks you leave next to the dresser, or the mess you make when you shave. This is not a joke!”

Junmyeon sat down in silence taking a slice of bread “I’m sorry”

Maybe I went a bit overboard, especially as it was his birthday. I mean he’s been doing great and in fairness my anxiety has lessened ever since we had gotten together.

I did exaggerate, because Junmyeon was one of the most considerate people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. And he was my boyfriend and he loved me and respected me and never questioned or made fun of me.

He was too patient and he loved me too much.

Junmyeon went to work that day a bit too quietly, he did shower and give me my goodbye kiss but he was off. I know it will be perfect when I surprise him today when he comes back home.

Nothing to worry about.

It was already 4 pm and he didn’t call, Junmyeon usually called during his lunch break but today he didn’t. So I decided in calling him instead.

“Hey baby!”

“Why didn’t you call me all day?”

“I’m sorry, they surprised me today at work, so we went to have lunch out”

They had surprised him for his birthday... that birthday that you didn’t acknowledge yet.

Perfect, the more upset he gets the better surprise he will receive.

“Alright don’t be late tho”

“I won’t, I love you”

Candles, petals all over the floor and on the silk sheets, a pretty sexy babydoll, one of those he loved that you were too lazy to wear. Makeup smoky and red lipstick like he liked. And the ponytail that drove him crazy because he loved pulling you from it... everything for him today.

I crossed your legs and looked at your watch. It was already 7 pm and there was no sign of Junmyeon’s car.

Where was he?

“Junmeyon?”

“Yes?” he replied panting.

“Where are you?”

“I am at the gym”

“Why? You didn’t say you would go today”

“I just ate too much cake, just burning some calories”

“You are so obsessed with them calories, have you seen your body? You would need you whole body weight in cake to gain weight, a piece of cake won-”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fucking obsessed with my perfect body, just as fucking obsessed with your fucking bathroom and good smell and fuck”

Who was this?

Perhaps he was upset and it never showed... too much, I had to come up with a solution.

“Myeon-ah~~~”

“What?”

“Come over... pretty please?”

“Yeah in an hour or so”

“Bu-”

He terminated the call while I was still talking.

Panic.

I put on a hoodie over my lingerie and a pair of sweatpants as fast as you could and drove to the gym. It was deserted, not a soul. But I still looked out of place with all the heavy makeup. There was a group of girls that that looked like they finished their session that shot me some gazes questioning my looks for working out.

I looked around and there he was, on the treadmill, running like there was no tomorrow, wearing a sleeveless blue T, sweat all over, his hair wet and his frown visible.

“Goddamnit, look at him, he is gorgeous, ugh, oh I’d like to taste that sweat”

I heard one of the girls say as they all stared at my boyfriend eating him up with their hungry eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind that and give him some stress relieve, he looks like he needs to unwind, release some. Oh I’d gladly take him all”

I couldn’t keep listening, but I wanted to keep listening?

I stood there also looking at my boyfriend, the sweat did give him a special look tho in all fairness. He glowed, he was sexy.

And he was all mine.

Just when I was about to head to talk to him one of the girls went before me. She leaned on the handrail making Junmyeon take off his earphones, slowing the speed.

“Can I help you?”

“Perhaps I could help you pretty boy” she said turning off the treadmill completely.

“Excuse me?”

She moved and joined him on the treadmill “looks like you could use some stress relive. I just know what exactly you might need”

“Is this a club now? Get down I need to finish”

“Oh I’ll get down if that is what you want”

“Alright I’m not interested”

He pushed her away and placed his towel over his shoulders, he walked passed me as I fixed my baseball cap for him not to recognise me.

“Fuck! He must be gay!” announced the girl to her friends.

“Or taken, have you thought about that?”

“Let me discover that, you know no one resists these bad boys” she said confidentially fixing her sports bra.

I follow her ready to punch her pretty shaped ass that looked perfect on those leggings, she just simply goes inside the men’s changing room unhesitantly.

“Hey!”

I hear Junmyeon exclaim.

“This is the men’s- oh- wait, what the fuck?”

Sounded serious. I opened the door slowly to see Junmyeon pinned to the lockers.

“It’s a pity to wash off all this sweat”

“Really? First time someone tells me something like this”

What!???

Panic run through your system... why wasn’t Junmyeon pushing her away now?

“Well then they are blind because boy you look so fine”

“Is this the appropriate place to approach a guy this way tho?”

“Let’s take a shower together so you can tell me all about this not being appreciated, and how to approach a guy and where” she said as she run her hands down his forearms.

I needed to see this, I wanted to see how far he’d go but I just couldn’t, my feet moved forward opening the door slamming it to the tiled wall, causing the unfortunate tile that came in contact with the door handle to crack.

I took off my baseball cap and crossed my arms over my chest leaning on one leg, my hip moving to the side. I bit the inside of my cheek and eyed this bitch head to toe.

Junmyeon was taken aback, he pressed himself further to the lockers, my appearance must of been comic because this slut was giggling to herself.

“Baby!?” he stuttered.

“Oh you are taken!” “Move your hands off my man if you want to keep that pretty hair”

“I’m not interested in guys that are taken” she stated “but you might wanna take better care of him” she added before taking her leave.

Once we were alone I looked at Junmyeon again, his hands pressed on the locker, his expression still as if he’s just been caught in headlights.

I moved forward scanning his face, I was so close, almost touching his sweaty body, my anxiety levels were on edge, he did smell and I was upset, my stomach churned. But then I saw it, the other side to all this.

My eyes traveled to his jaw and his chin, there was a droplet of sweat dangling, I still don’t know how my hand went all the way to his chin wiping the droplet with my thumb.

“Baby!” he said eyes wide open.

“Shhh, bad birthday boys don’t get to talk” I whisper, my voice coming out the sluttiest I’ve ever spoken in my entire life.

He just admired how I’m rubbing the sweat between my thumb and forefinger, he was amused by it.

He can’t recognise me, also he thinks he’s in trouble, but all this mess can work in his favour after all.

“You do smell... you stink actually, I don’t get it, you shower so much but you still stick”

“Baby, let’s go home, I’m sorry, but believe me nothing happened, she was eyeing me since I came, herself and her friends and I ne-”

“So you knew that there was a group of girls checking you out and what do you do?” I ask trapping him between my arms as my hands rested on the lockers.

“I ignored them”

My eyes travel from his face to his neck and Adams apple that was bobbing nervously, I heard him swallow and it did turn me on, my anger suddenly replaced by a throbbing between my legs.

I detach myself and tilt my head to keep looking at his body, his drenched sleeveless t-shirt, his forearms that were shiny, his torso and the the t-shirt that gave away too much.

“And what’s with all the heavy makeup? And that lipstick? I never seen you wear red lipstick that dark?”

My eyes meet his again and I unzip my hoodie painfully slow, his ears seem to move almost at the sound of the zipper expectant. It’s halfway open and my hands move the hoodie to the sides, making him see preview of what he was going to get.

“It’s your birthday, and this was going to be one of your presents, but you decided to come to the gym instead”

Junmyoen gulps again, eyebrows knitting, throwing his head to the locker making a big sound as his head hit the metal door.

“Baby? Are you upset?”

I look around and find the showers “take shower” I order.

“Here?”

“Yes here” he nods and smiles.

I surprise him by walking behind him.

“Where are you going?”

“To the handicap shower, that is where you are going to shower. And that is where I am going to watch you shower”

My voice. It affects him, I see him tremble as if icy cold air just hit him. He can’t deal with what is happening right now, but my authoritative tone is making him lose his shit.

He takes his gym bag and heads towards the handicap shower, I enter behind him and I have to admit that the place looks decent enough, it even smells like good cleaning products that disguise his sweat odour. This might be easier than what I thought it would.

I lean on the tiled wall and watch how he rids himself from his drenched t-shirt. Oh but one thing was Junmyeon’s torso, and one different thing was Junmyeon’s torso after working out, and hell yes did I have a hot perfect boyfriend or what? I was even learning to like the filthy sticky look.

He was about to pull his shorts down but he raised his head to meet with eyes. I already had my lower lip between my teeth and he knew I was ready to scream his name.

“Baby... this is awkward for me”

“Remove and shower” I demand pointing at his lower body.

He was being so obedient, the most I’ve seen him.

I liked it.

He finally was naked, he didn’t give me the view of his front but his butt cheeks were enough, his back muscles coming to life and he raised his arms to lather the shampoo on his hair.

Ughr, no I can’t, I just can’t. Why can’t I? I mean I’ve seen him naked so many times? Why was this affecting me this much.

I needed friction.

NOW!

I found myself unzipping my hoodie and pulling my sweats out of the way, I turned off the water while his face was still full of soap.

“Baby- oh-” he moans when he feels my body pressed against his.

I wipe the soap out of his face and kiss him, he is taken by surprise and he just receives the kiss like the good boy he is. He parts his lips and lets me deepen the kiss, all while his hands were to his sides.

I break the kiss panting, I want more, I want Junmyeon.

“Baby? Your lingerie will get ruined, and we are in a public bathroom”

“Rip the fucking lingerie and I don’t care where we are” I say bluntly as I play with his hardening member.

“Holly fuck what happened to you? I’m still all sweaty”

“I don’t care, Junmyeon, I want you” I add stroking him faster.

“Your makeup... is that a mole you drew on your upper lip?”

“Yes to match yours, so you know what yours does to me”

He didn’t add anything to that but I felt his hand inside my thong, cupping my ass before pulling it down. Once it was pooling over my feet he lifts me up and slams me to the cold tiled wall. I moan at the contact on my back, my legs find his waist and I wrap them around him. Next thing I feel is his tip at my clit rubbing finally getting the friction I needed all while his teeth sink in my collarbones.

“How are you so naughty today baby?”

“Inside, now! Do it!”

He wastes no time and he is inside. Finally. He ponds fast an in an erratic manner, the unusual place and my change in behaviour must of done something new to him because he is too hot, he is pounding in me like he’s never done before, he has me seeing stars while I scream his name.

“You like that baby? Rough and dirty like this?”

“Jun~~~ angh~~~ yes”

The tiled surrounding made my voice sound 10 times louder and it was doing wonders to Junmyeon, he lasted and lasted, shamelessly not caring if anyone heard by now.

When I reached my high my legs felt heavy and my body limp, I was catching my breath when finally Junmyeon released with one last hard thrust that felt that hit my brain. He took ownership of my lips sucking hard bringing me closer to him as my legs finally hit the floor.

“Fucking hot, you will drive me crazy one day, I can’t control myself around you”

“That was by far the best”

“Must be the sweat baby”

“Happy birthday Myeonnie, let’s go home I still have many things to show you”

“More that this?”

“There’s a cake that needs to be tasted, and there ain’t no plates” I touch his abdomen and I already see his member twitching again “I thought your chest is a good place to put some cake”

“Oh babygirl, let’s get home”

_____________________

A/N: I am Suho’s personal dumpster, I am his trash and he owns my soul... like full ownership...

Thanks for reading.

Happy birthday velvety peachy bunny.

#exo scenarios #exo imagine #exo smut #exo fanfiction #suho scenario #suho's birthday #Suho fanfiction #suho smut #suho one shot #exo one shot #smut #kpopsmut #junmyeon smut

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