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#monthly meals tag
icterid-rubus · 1 year
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My family went to florida and I’ve been dog and house sitting and hosting my brother for two weeks and taking my cat to the vet and finally my brother is gone and the cat is okay* and I have 24 hours until my doctor appointment and 48 until the family is back and I’m chugging beers sitting back trying to fit two weeks of relaxation into one evening and it’s not working but I’m tipsy and throwing my head back and wanting to make bad choices yeeeaaaaaah boooooooiiiii!!!!
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indycar-series · 2 years
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vent in the tags
#tw depression#i cant keep living in the vent channel in slub crub so im gonna vent in the tags#honestly been pingponging between feeling emotionally numb and feeling like a complete waste of space too much lately#i know this latest round was partially triggered by the monthly blood but i need to stop lying to myself about being ok#part of me wants to get help because in my current state i am doing a piss poor job of taking care of myself#but another part of me just wants to drop out of school move back home and waste away#i barely eat 1 meal a day anymore and dont have the energy to do basic household tasks#and when i do have energy the paralyzing fear of being perceived by other people keeps me from doing what i need to do#my lawn is starting to get overgrown because im terrified that my neighbors will see me mowing#and my roommate has mowed the last 3 times and its my turn to do it#i dont feel a real drive or sense of purpose and dont know what i wamt to do with my life#and honestly i wake up dreading every day#therapy doesnt help because ive figured out how to lie to therapists and medication sort of helps but doesnt stop the thoughts#im terrified of being honest with people because they'll see how much of a mess i am#honestly should have ended up in a psych ward months ago but im still out in the wild#i want to keep working toward a motorsport career but im lost and no leads are turning up results#part of me just wants to give up#i dont know what im supposed to do from here#i know i should talk to someone but i dont trust anyone irl with any of this#because if i tell one parent they'll just gossip to the whole family#if i tell my psychiatrist he'll just up my meds and tell my parents#and i only have 1 or 2 real irl friends neither of who i will admit any of this to#i just want to stop feeling empty inside all the time and actually move forward towards a life that will satisfy me#what that is i have no idea#anyways that was a lot sorry if anyone read all that
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bonny-kookoo · 8 months
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Jungkook
𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓬 [Drabble]
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He's technically well enough to live on his own and, most of all, live his own life. But he's chosen you as his home- and that means he has to learn more about you.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, mentions of eating raw meat, suggestive, Jungkook's.. interesting way of flirting, mentions of period, small moment of insecurity, fluff
Length: Short
A/N: THERE IS NO TAGLIST. THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS. THERE REALLY ISN'T. DO NOT ASK.
-> Masterlist
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Jungkook has recovered completely at this point.
He's technically allowed to roam free and go live his life again- alone, that is- but he refuses. He's taken on a job at a local supermarket, helping in the warehouses with the heavy goods, and he tells you that it's actually quite fun to him to help the people around him.
He's also still living with you permanently until it's clear whether or not he's gonna stay on earth or go back to his home planet- because It's not all too clear yet, though you're not too worried about the future. If he wants to leave you behind, it'll be sad, sure-
but it's his decision. You've got no right to tie him to your side.
So for now, you'll just enjoy the time you're able to spend with him- from lazy mornings to the routine cuddling session he practically demands every night before bed, like a ritual he has to go through or he just won't sleep at all.
And an odd sight to you is, that you're still catching Jungkook snacking on very much raw meat at your fridge occasionally, just like right now- his sheepishly large eyes all round and caught off guard as he looks from side to side, before he looks at the small cut of red meat in his hand.
He wants to ask you if you'd like to share, but he's learned that humans actually don't eat raw meat at all. It can even make them sick- something that made him worry, so he's since started to look up tutorials on how to properly prepare it so it becomes safe for consumption for humans.
He wants to take care of you properly after all.
So he started learning how to cook proper human meals that have good nutritional value for their bodies. He also began researching how to help you through your monthly cycle, and how to otherwise court you.
Humans apparently really don't court each other- they kind of just send each other messages on their phones, and then they meet up for food or alcohol. They do that once or twice to see if they like each other, and then they start 'going out'- which funnily for some doesn't involve walking anywhere at all.
Where's the proving one's value? He's got to show you how capable he is in providing; whether it be comfort, safety or even physical valuables such as food. How would you know whether or not he'd be a good time investment? It's no wonder so many humans whine and complain about 'wasting time' on the wrong partners when they just choose them on nothing but a 'feel of the moment'.
Humans are truly weird.
Then again, humans are also very emotional beings. They choose a lot of things based on their feelings alone, and they cherish opinions and other people's emotions a lot, even if they don't know each other. They make many friendships quickly, form huge social circles, and some of them even have relationships with multiple partners. Everything a human does is connected to feelings, it seems like. Apparently, they need to check if they're emotionally compatible first before they even think about mating.
Oh god, mating.
Humans are horribly complicated he's come to learn- it takes some of them months and even years of emotionally connecting before they get together for the first time. And when they do, it's sounds so complicated.
Some like certain positions, others have so-called 'kinks', and then some have a favoritism for certain acts that actually have nothing to do with reproduction. Jungkook had been horrified when he read something about 'eating someone out'- until he learned that it had nothing to do with actual cannibalism.
Human beings love pleasure. For Jungkook, that had always been somewhat of a luxury- but here on earth, humans see it as a necessity even. It makes him eager to prove himself as a lover who can match the capabilities of a human one- maybe even exceed them.
"Would you consider me someone you'd mate with?" Jungkook asks as he watches you pout hot water into a cup filled with a little bag. Tea is what you're making.
He doesn't like it- he burned his tongue on it a few days back. Why would you drink something that hurts?
"I- uh, what?" You stammer, having to put the kettle down as you're clearly caught off guard.
"Mating. Sex, is what you call it here right?" Jungkook hums, leaning on the kitchen counter almost innocently. How can he look at you with his stupid round boba-ball eyes while asking you if you'd like to fuck him?!
"I uh- I mean, you're.. really attractive, and I guess we're a couple?" You stammer, a bit caught off guard, and he nods.
"I believe that we are in a partnership at the moment." He agrees, putting the meat away into the fridge, before he washes his hands and dries them off. "And humans regularly participate in intercourse in most partnerships, right?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you nod.
"I mean.. most of the time, yeah." You agree.
"See?" He smiles, looking at you. "We should as well. I heard from a friend that it can strengthen the bond of a relationship significantly." He tells you, and you're caught off guard, as you can't help but stare at his bare arms for a moment, dirty thoughts invading your head as you look at the way his hands move to rest on the kitchen counter behind him.
Great. You're really happy he's making friends, sure- but do his friends have to tell him that he needs to have sex with you to make you like him more?
"Do you not want that with me?" He wonders. "That's fine too. Some only enjoy doing that by themselves.." He shrugs, and you freeze.
"What-" You start, terrified of the truth. "What do you.. mean?" You ask.
"I know you're pleasuring yourself sometimes, mostly at night before you shower. It's hard not to notice it, really- your scent is all over the place." He laughs easily, as if he's just talking about the weather. "I wanted to ask you if you wanted my help sometimes. You seem a little frustrated on occasion." He offers.
So he noticed that. Awesome.
"Yeah I just-.." you cringe at yourself, before you just shut your mouth.
"If you're worried about me not being able to pleasure a human woman, I can assure you- I'm pretty knowledgeable." He prides himself up. "I've only ever received compliments."
"You've had sex with humans before?" You ask, and he nods.
"Yes. Multiple, actually- so I have good experience." He agrees, and now, you feel a bit intimidated. If he has this much experience, what if you bore him? What if you can't provide what he wants? And he clearly seems to sense your distress growing, because he immediately tries to backpaddle his statement. "Though none of those experience involved any actual emotional connection!" He tells you, trying to reassure you that he doesn't want to come off as if sex with you wouldn't be something special to him. "You could almost say that it was practice-" He attempts, but you just sigh, shaking your head.
"You don't have to justify yourself, Jungkook." You say, and he visibly deflates at the fact that you don't use his nickname in your sentence.
"Do my past actions make me undesirable to you now?" He asks a bit softer, and you groan in agony to yourself, shaking your head as you sit down at the small kitchen table.
"No- no that's not it, it's me that's the issue." You huff, laying your head sideways on the cool surface of the plastic tabletop. "I'm just not.. as experienced as you." You shrug, not moving as he sits down across from you. "I'll probably be super lame and disappointing." You mumble.
You can feel his hand reaching out to pet your head, fingers running over your head in a similar way that you tend to do to him. He's probably trying to comfort you, and in a way, it makes you upset at yourself for being upset at him. He did nothing wrong. Why are you being such a bitch?
"You know.." He chuckles softly, and you move your head a little to look at him. "..my friend said that humans can be really confusing and emotional when they're ovulating." He offers, and your eyes widen as your head snaps up. "He was right." He laughs at your shocked expression.
"But I'm not-" You start, because technically, you really aren't. Are you?
"It's really faint but pretty noticeable." He chuckles, and you just sigh, accepting things for now. At the very least, the awkwardness has left for once, so that's a good thing down the line. "Oh!" He suddenly perks up, looking at with excitement.
"I heard that sex helps with cramping though!"
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faust-the-enjoyer · 1 month
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Anonymous asked: Adoptive!dad!simon x adopted!kid!reader but it starts off with the reader being a foster kid whos lowkey kinda scared of simon
You Remember the First Time You Called Him "Dad"
Tags/warnings: gn!reader, kid!reader (mid teens), foster!father!simon turned into adoptive!dad!simon, sfw, familial, mentions of the military, mentions of therapy, mentions of mental health issues, implicit mentions of child murder, uk foster care system, a bit of angst, fluff, crying.
A/n: aaaaaaaah i loooved writing this!!! I did my research to write it too!!! Hope you like it anon!
-Divider by (@/saradika-graphics)!
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After being discharged from the military due to his mental health, Simon got monthly compensation from the military, and started working as a butcher again, all while going to therapy at the same time. Since he's pretty much done from working as a soldier, he had to find other things to do, he had to learn to help himself, and find purpose, find a new life for himself.
After going to therapy for a good couple of months and being on medication, he found that his life became...repetitive and dull in a way. It's the same thing over and over again, work, therapy, and the times that he went out with his old teammates didn't change things that much, considering they were on missions on many occasions, dating didn't help either, that didn't work out, he's not one for that.
He'd talk about it with his therapist, he'd talk about with his friends, and he'd get a lot of advises, but none that appealed to him. He didn't know what to do, but sometimes, he'd see one of his co-workers at the butchery with his kid sometimes, seeing couples and single parents out with their own as well, and it all just reminded him of his nephew, that poor kid, Joseph. Although it opens up old wounds that never healed, he did think it over, and even asked his therapist for advice over it, and he finally decided to foster a kid after months of thinking about it and considering it.
He wanted to do a short-fostering plan, just in case it doesn't work out for whatever reason. The application took a couple of months in order for him to become a foster parent, but he didn't mind, he worked on his mental health at the time, and even cleaned out a room in his apartment for the kid that'll be there. After making an inquiry at a local foster care agency, and after a social worker visited him and the process took place, he was given some parenting training, and finally matched up with a kid to take care of, that is, you.
Your first meeting was with him and your two's social worker in a small restaurant, he was a big guy, piercing brown eyes, some scars here and there, and a black surgical mask that he took off when he sat down and started talking to you. He was just a bit scary, just a bit though.
After the social worker introduced you two, Simon took the initiative and started talking to you. "R/N, you can just call me Simon, alright?", he asked in a calm tone, and you nodded, it made sense since you two just met, and he really just wants you to be comfortable. After you two chatted a little and he paid for the meal, the social worker walked you two to his car, and talked to you, you were more than willing to stay with him if that meant some stability in your life, even if he was a little scary, so you agreed to stay with him, and he agreed to foster you, and you said your goodbyes to the social worker.
You didn't want to sit in the front passenger seat, this was all too new to you, and Simon didn't make it any better either, all broody and quiet, with that somewhat harsh look on his face, though he doesn't mean to seem like this at all, he really just wants you to feel safe around him, so he lets you get into the backseat and sees you put your little bag of belongings on the seat next to you, "Put your seatbelt on R/N.", and that you do. Five minutes into the drive and he starts talking.
"So, your school's pretty close to where we will, and to be honest with you kid, I'd prefer to drive you every day there, but tell me, what do you prefer?", he asks, eyes on the road, he'd prefer to drive you because it's safer, and he honestly hopes you just choose that, "...I...ok, um, I don't wanna take the bus, so...", you trail off, you can't even talk about what you want, let alone address him by his first name. He lets out a sigh of relief, "Car it is then.". The rest of the drive is filled with him questioning you on the meals you like, and inquiring you about your hobbies.
As the days passed, you two slowly warmed up to each other, and his kindness would show; in the first couple of days of you settling in, he took you shopping, giving you a certain amount of money and telling to buy whatever clothes you needed, he also encouraged you to buy that plushie you had your eye on but didn't openly say you wanted because you're "too old" for it. He'd ask you to cook dinner with him as way as to spend time with you, letting you chop all the vegetables with your not-too sharp knife, and letting you add them and the spices into the pot.
Hell, it would even extend to other things as well, he wouldn't hug you unless you gave him the green light, nor would he enter your room without knocking or asking for your permission first. And in the first week of picking you up from school, he asked if you if anyone was bothering you, and if you made or already have any friends, if you needed any school supplies, or if you wanted a packed lunch. On the first weekend you stayed at his apartment, he ended asking Johnny to borrow that old gaming set he doesn't use anymore just so you (and him) can play on it.
But you were still scared a little, this new environment was too comfortable, too quiet, your mind kept telling you that something was wrong, when you knew there wasn't. Week by week, your fear would slowly melt away, though it was quite slow, yet the social worker was quite delighted during the check-ups that happened.
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One night after brushing your teeth and getting into bed, it started raining, that was fine, relaxing even, until you were deeply asleep and got frighteningly woken up by the loud thunder, heart throbbing, body shaky, you needed water, you needed to calm down. You went into the kitchen, heavy breathing echoing throughout the room, you were so shaken up that you accidentally broke the glass of water you were trying to get out of the cabinet, shattering the glass all over the floor, and prompting Simon to wake up and run to the kitchen, only to find you shaking above the broken glass and breathing heavily, you looked like you were on the verge of tears from how overwhelmed you felt.
He carefully walked up to you quickly, "R/N? You alright? Did you step on the glass?", you look up at him, and the waterworks are on, he can't say anything to you in this state and he knows it, so all he does is usher you into a tight hug. "Shh...shh...it's alright, you're not hurt, you're fine kid...", after calming you down, he sits you on the couch and hands you a cup of water, covering you with a blanket and patting your head, "You can tell me what happened, I won't be mad, I promise.", he sighs, he doesn't know what happened, but he wants you to feel safe in this moment and just breath.
You drink from your cup and set it on the coffee table, breathing in and out, "I was just sleeping, but the thunder woke me up and I just...", "You got scared kid?", you nod, eyes still tired from having your sleep interrupted in such a horrifying manner. It's still thundering loudly outside. He sighs, "Alright, tell you what, since you don't have any school tomorrow, how 'bout you sleep on the couch, and I sit near you, yeah? How does that sound?", you think it over, at least he'll be there if you wake up scared again, "Ok.", he gets up and sits on the armchair next to the couch, letting you lay there and get comfy with the blanket and couch pillow. As you slowly close and rest your eyes, you suddenly open them wide, "Wait...you'll sleep on the chair?", "Yeah, what, you've never done that before?", he lets out a small chuckle, you smile a little and put your head back onto the pillow. After you fell asleep, he got up and quietly cleaned up the broken glass in the kitchen, then returned and sat back down, slowly falling asleep too.
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As the months passed, you fell into the routine that you two had, it was a calm one, a comforting one that made your worries disappear. He tried his best to be a father to you, a parental figure to you. He'd pat away any creases in your school uniform, make you lunch boxes, and openly told you to rant to him about school and your friends, about what you wanted to do and be in the future. He wanted to know more about you, and if you ever had any issues, you knew to come to him for help, and you did. He never shamed you for it, never made fun of you, he always helped you out, even if your problem seemed "trivial".
He wanted to know what you liked to do, where you liked to eat. On some weekends after you'd do your homework, he'd take you to a small amusement park then to try a new restaurant, and once he even let you have that sundae you've always wanted to try. On some weekdays, he'd help you with your homework after dinner, telling you how proud he was of you, and after, you'd help him with the dishes. He gave you a monthly allowance ever since you started living with him, letting you buy whatever you wanted (within reason), and you wanted to help him with the house, so you started doing some chores, it was perfect, cozy, loving, what you've both wanted. What he offered and gave you was what every child deserves and should have, you both know that, but neither of you ever had that.
You found someone you can lovingly call your parent, and he found a kid he could proudly say was his. It's been a good year since he fostered you, and now he's sat on your bed, talking to you, "R/N, I...would you like me to adopt you? It's possible you know, just some paperwork, I've just...been thinking it over.", your eyes glimmer with joy and content, and a smile is painted on your lips, "Yes!". A man of his word, after discussing it with the social worker and getting the paperwork done, he ended up adopting you out of the foster care system, now having you as his child, permanently. You were so happy, so so so happy.
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A couple of days after the adoption process was done, you sat next to him on the couch as he was reading the newspaper. "Simon.", "Hm?", "Can I call you "dad"?", his eyes widen a little, and he has to hold back some of his emotions, or else he'll cry in front of you, "Yeah, yeah can call me "dad" if you want to kid.", he lets out a small chuckle, ruffling your hair. You laugh, "Thanks dad.", it's a much more comfortable term than his first name, one that suits him.
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Gaz: So how's everything with the kid?
Simon: Dead good, they're happy.
Gaz: I told you you'd be a good father, you didn't need to worry so much man.
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He sets his phone down and looks at you studying for your exams in the living room, a small content smile on his face. He's glad that he can start anew, and he's glad that he's able to give you what he never had; stability, and a loving parent.
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kimsohn · 5 months
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insignificance
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pairing . eric x gn! reader about . 2k words, fluff (suggestive) warnings . 16+ cause there is heavy making out at the end, drinking wine, mentions of murder but it's all jokes!!
synopsis . it takes one dinner and a late-night drive for you to fall in love with your fiancé all over again. note . the inspo for this fic was @sohnric's plot twist make-out scene (and this pic) i hope i did it justice 💗 i wrote this on a whim and am posting this at 1am so please excuse me for this monstrosity 😭 tysm @juyeonszn and @mars101 for cheering me on YUPP tagging . @stealanity @invuwrld @gfksn (+ bar)
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The background noise of the waiters shuffling around fades away as your two glasses clink together. Vivaldi’s Spring is playing in the background, a piece you’ve only heard once in a blue moon at an orchestra concert. Eric seems to have experienced differently, though, judging by the taps of his dress-shoe-covered foot beneath the table and the twinkle in his eyes.
“Cheers,” you whisper, giddy with excitement.
“Cheers, baby,” Eric whispers back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin.
The wine in your glass swishes as you take a tentative sip. It’s sweet and fruity, and you’ve already forgotten the name Eric rattled off to the waiter as if expensive drinks were second nature to him. They probably were second nature to the Sohn family, considering the elegance of this fancy restaurant, the outfit he bought that now adorns you, and the sparkling ring that sits on your finger.
You set the glass down next to you, already a little overwhelmed with the elegance of this atmosphere. You knew you married rich, but it never particularly occurred to you just how rich your fiancé is. In fact, you feel a little out of place sitting in a chair that costs half of your monthly paycheck and staring at a menu that you once never would’ve been able to. Despite already being engaged to the love of your life, you’re not sure you’ll ever find a way to fit into the intricate setting that the Sohns have grown up in.
“What’s wrong?” Eric asks, seeing the glimmer in your eyes dissipate with your overthinking.
He reaches across the table to take your hands in his, running his thumb over your ring. He traces the lines of it, following the swirl pattern as if he were seeing it for the first time. As if he didn’t spend hours agonizing over what design to gift you, so sure that you would reject him if it wasn’t up to your liking.
(You would’ve said yes even if he proposed to you with a lollipop.)
“I feel like I don’t belong here,” you admit, your head hanging low as the embarrassment clouds your features.
He intertwines his fingers with yours, lacing them tightly. Eric is all too knowing of the nagging thoughts in your brain, telling you you’re undeserving of the man in front of you and the wealth that comes along with it. However, you’ve hit the jackpot in the fact that Eric is always ready to argue back with the devil on your shoulder, even if it’s three in the morning and you’re delirious from sleep or if you’re a little bit too tipsy and crying in his lap. Eric, for lack of better words, is always there for you. Even now, as he holds your hands and stares into your eyes as if you’re the only person in the universe, he is here for you.
“I’m going to eat that little voice in your head so it goes away,” he responds a moment later with finality, extremely serious.
The statement is so absurd and unexpected that it has you giggling, and you grip Eric’s fingers tighter as you lean forward and can’t find it in you to stop. All your previous tension disappears when you look into Eric’s eyes, filled with mirth and kindness.
“You’re crazy,” you voice through laughter, reaching for the wine glass to calm your jumbling nerves.
Eric just shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile that reflects your current predicament.
“Crazy for you, babe. Now stop worrying your pretty little head and enjoy your food, okay?”
And enjoy the food you do. The three-course meal followed by dessert has you clutching your stomach after, full and bloated from the amount of delicious food you’ve consumed. You can’t even bring yourself to take a couple more bites of the black forest delicacy that sits on your plate, but luckily, you have the universe to thank for the takeout box that now rests in Eric’s left hand.
His other hand holds the car keys, and as he clicks the unlock button, the Orange Corvette lights up from across the parking garage. Its bright color is exactly reminiscent of the man standing next to you, exuberant and dashing. You felt like a little kid the first time he picked you up in his car, extremely impressed with the interior neon lights he showed off to you in the earlier stages of your relationship. Now, as his fiancé, the car is something comfortable to you, having seen it too many times to count by this point. 
He helps you into the front seat before getting in beside you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the back of your headrest as he backs the car out. You’ll never admit this to him, but the view of him looking back and inching the car out is devilishly handsome to you, and you have to fight the warmth that rises to your cheeks.
Once he repositions the vehicle and drives forward, the hand that’s behind you now moves to your thigh. The shiny watch on his wrist glints in the moonlight, and he absentmindedly draws circles on your clothed skin to the beat of the song. It doesn’t help that it’s an R&B track, so every movement of his finger is slow and torturous, and every trace ignites fire against the cloth. 
“Eric,” you start, watching as he pulls to a stop before the red light.
“Hm?” he responds, turning his head to face you.
You notice that he’s wearing a singular stud earring on his right ear. You can only pray that you’ll find some strength to survive the rest of this car ride because as soon as it’s over, you won’t let him see the light of day.
“How much longer?” you ask tentatively, like a little kid squirming in their seat.
He rolls his eyes, turning back to focus on the road. It doesn’t help though, because his side profile is just as alluring as his front.
“Couple more minutes, baby.”
True to his word, he exits the main road a few minutes later, driving up a dirt path unfamiliar to you. The road is slightly bumpy, and you’re a little tipsy from the wine so you shift around quite frequently, but Eric’s unwavering, strong grip on your thigh keeps you grounded. The more you stare at his hand, the more sexy you find his hand pressed against the silk you’re wearing.
You’re reconsidering your decision to spend the rest of your life with this ridiculously hot man when he pulls into a forest clearing.
“Are you going to murder me, Eric Sohn?” you tease as he parks the car, swiftly maneuvering the wheel.
You move to step out once he’s done, but he’s faster than you, and he opens the car door before you can even reach for the handle.
“If I wanted to murder you,” he says, holding your arm as you step out, “I would’ve already done so, my love.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you have little to be annoyed about as you survey your surroundings. The dark forest around you is a contrast to the vividness of the car, but nothing seems brighter than Eric’s smile at the moment and the twinkling stars around you.
Eric leads you to a clearing, his hand pressed against the small of your back. You peer over, fascinated at the realization that you can see the whole city from here. The twinkling lights of the bustling city below you are something of a dream, and as you look towards Eric, you can see the stars reflected in his eyes.
Minutes like these, where you’re not surrounded by extravagance, are when you truly feel your connection with Eric. Raw, unearthed, and simply pure, you feel like you’re stripped of all labels. You both are just insignificant specks in the universe, and he is truly just some guy to you in this moment, but you know wholeheartedly that this very guy is the one you truly love. You would never have it any other way.
The grin on Eric’s face is infectious as you face him with one of your own. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, clasping them together as his arms find their way around your waist. 
“Found this place the other day,” he explains as if he could hear your thoughts, “I kinda regret not proposing to you here.”
“Don’t lie,” you mutter, knowing that he definitely does not regret whisking you away to his private condo in the mountains just to put a ring on your finger.
He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. The cicadas chirp around you, and all is silent when he calms down except for your two breaths in unison. His gaze circulates from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes, and whatever triangle method he’s using is working because one second later, you lean in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
He tastes like strawberries, and you smile against his lips remembering that you’d gifted him strawberry lip balm two days ago. Your man, your sexy, diligent man, following your orders to take care of his lips stirs butterflies in your stomach. The fact that you hold some kind of power over the Sohn family’s heir makes you feel a little dizzy, but your only response is to pull Eric closer and kiss him harder.
The sweetness of both the strawberry scent and the kiss fade as he presses back with just as fervor, adjusting his arms around you to pull you in tighter. The space between you feels unbearable, and despite the proximity between you two, the gap is still too big for your liking. You need him viscerally, every part of him on you as if the very concept of distance is poisonous and Eric is your antidote.
“Baby,” he whispers, pulling back with shallow breaths, “the car.”
You end up in the front seat of his car, the seat tilted backward and you in Eric’s lap. One of his knees holds you in place against your back, and his hands rest on your waist. The position is far too intimate that anyone walking by will know exactly what’s going on. Your kisses have turned heady, mirroring the darkness in his eyes and the way you clutch onto the front of his black shirt. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, but Eric distracts you with his tongue swiping across your lips and the way he softly bites when you protest. By some miracle, you finish moments later, and you run your hands down his skin. He shivers, and everything feels like pure electricity between you two the way his fingers press into your sides tighter. 
(It will bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care. You’ll simply shrug on a shirt and try to fight a blush as Eric stares at you from the bed shirtless, a knowing grin on his face.)
His kisses trail down your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, finally finding a home in your collarbone, biting and sucking as if it was his favorite pastime. It probably is, with the way he kisses down your shoulder and tugs the strap of clothing down.
Your fingers trace his collarbone, and you hold his head in your hands as he looks up at you. He’s needy and restless, but he’ll always listen to you when you have something to say.
You may be an insignificant speck in the world, but in Eric’s eyes, you’re the whole universe.
“I love you,” you whisper.
It’s all you have to say before he flips you around, pressing you into the dip of the seat as he slides your clothing down. The air conditioning of the car and the ambient music bring goosebumps to your now exposed skin, but Eric makes everything disappear by resuming his previous ministrations.
He looks into your eyes before pressing a kiss right above your heart. It beats against your chest, heavy, and Eric knows it’s only for him. It will always be only for him.
“I love you too,” he whispers back, smiling against your skin.
“Forever and always.”
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hareofhrair · 2 months
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I need to find a way to raise about an extra $200 a week in order to afford a meal delivery service and a cleaning service so I can eat better and stop living in squalor.
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cookiesupplier · 7 months
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Hell Ain't So Bad - Part One
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pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie) 
warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing. – potential more to be added at stories progression
summary: Ellie is lost in the world, homeless and has been out of the world for so long in her mind she has no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?
author’s note: This first part was originally written as Reader/first person, but re-edited as Ellie/third person as its what's I'm used do if I missed anything please, feel free to let me know. Unbetaed, readers beware..
Warning, this is a slow burn... I scream at my computer with slow burns... so how well I will handle my own slow burn I have absolutely no idea... lol but as per my notes... I can't even promise Ellie will even meet Noah for um. a. few. parts. Don't lynch me.
ALL COMMENTS ARE WELCOME. (my replies are broken I will reply via reblog to yours)
tags: Tags are open if anyone is interested.
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The day Ellie sold her guitar was the beginning of the end. It had been all going down hill for a long time. Ellie knew, of course, she knew. The whole world knew it to be honest, it isn’t just her that was struggling but she had dropped out of college and had been picking up work wherever she could find it just to get by and pay rent. Ellie had even tried Only Fans, but not even taking off her clothes and videoing herself for strangers on the internet had gotten her the money she needed to keep her from the predicament that she was in now. Not being able to even pay her monthly phone bill had put a stop to uploading the videos and images to continuing getting money from Only Fans for the bill, she had tried to get around it, but trying to access the free wifi at the library had been nixed the moment the librarian saw exactly what she was doing.
Boy had Ellie been banned there so fast anyone would think steam was about to come out of the librarian’s ears.
She didn’t blame her for that, but a girl had to eat, and eventually, when she stopped uploading the little content she had managed to get to her account, the money that she had had coming in from her subscribers, had dried up very quickly, and then she had nothing to even scrounge for the slightest morsel of food. Ellie hadn’t eaten a decent meal in what felt like…
Screw what felt like. She hasn't had even a scrap of food that hasn’t been begged, stolen, or fished out of the garbage in weeks.
Months since it was anything but dollar packs of noodles. Dry unless Jake let her borrow his camp stove to cook them.. She always shared if he did. He brought the kettle camp stove, and she bought the noodles and they ate huddled under the overpass, pretending they weren’t homeless, down on their luck, beggars.. Bound to get chased away, or worse, the next time a cop patrol came riding by. Jake was a good egg though, he could get into a shelter so much easier than her, but he never went, always saying there was too much noise, too many people. He was a veteran with PTSD, he’d lost the lower half of one of his right leg last time he was on active duty, and she was always willing to listen to the story, even if she heard it every time they shared a pack of noodles.
It had been a few days.
The overpass.
Ellie wished she could say that actually sleeping here was a new development, but it had been where she had been calling home for some weeks now. There used to be a tent city in the park for so many like her, but then the council had decided that was an unlawful assembly and chased them out. Sadly in that chaos, Ellie had lost the, admittedly flimsy, tent covering that had kept her at the very least dry of the night. That had been a few weeks back. Now, the overpass was usually where she spent her nights.
If she was lucky.
That’s right, if she was lucky.
If she wasn’t, she would go out and look to find a park bench. The other option was possibly huddled up somewhere random in a shop stoop and praying to whatever deity out there, if there was any at all, and hoped that it didn’t rain, and she woke up before the shop owners got in and chased her away the next morning.
Not that it really mattered. She could never get properly warm anyway, despite the fact Ellie was wearing literally every layer of clothes that she hadn’t sold. She just couldn’t stay warm, and that cough she’d had for weeks now just didn’t want to go away. If she couldn’t afford a place to live, it wasn’t like she could afford the treatment the doctors said she needed. The free clinic was pointless. No, sorry, that was horrible of her to even think. No it wasn’t, It had a point, but so far the drugs they’d given her only seemed to help much for a short period of time, but at least they did help, for a little bit. Still, the cough was relentless, it always came back despite the fact she always tried to do what they told her. She tried everything she could to stay as dry, and as warm as she could. Unfortunately every time it came back, and it made sleeping extremely difficult when every night she woke up feeling like she was trying to cough up her lungs from her chest, barely able to breath. It felt like something was sitting on her chest.
Today, Ellie seemed to have dozed off mid afternoon, she didn’t remember doing it, but she must have with the way she awoke with a start this afternoon. She hadn’t even realized that she’d drifted off, damn she was so tired, it happened when her coughing got so bad that she couldn’t manage to sleep more than tiny cat naps.. Probably about time to go back to the free clinic and see if they could give her some more meds and get just a little bit of relief, even if it was only for another short time, anything was better than nothing.
Waking up coughing, she raised a gloved hand to her mouth.
It was instinct.
Who didn’t cover their mouth when they coughed?
However, the pressure in her chest, the ache, the pain in her throat, then the drops of blood that she spots on her fingers when she struggles to pull a breath in and drop her hand from her mouth as the coughing eases slightly.. And her stomach drops.
Fuck.
That isn’t good.
Definitely free clinic time.
“Hey, you okay?”
Looking up from her hand, Ellie’s fingers closing in a fist quick as she swallows looking to the frankly clean, neat, man with bright eyes, a kind smile, more than a few tattoos, blonde short hair and is squatting down to her level,
“Ye-”
Ellie’s voice was rough, her throat feeling like a cheese grater from the coughing, but clearing her throat a little bit gently she continued,
“Yea, just really tired, I’m probably just getting a cold.”
Liar. Bold faced liar. She sees the man smile a little more, glad he accepts the white lie. Least she hopes he does anyway.
“Best get you to the clinic then.. Here, have a sandwich until then, fill that belly, and when you go, maybe check this place out too, it’s right across the street, I have a buddy over there, I think he could help you. Ask for Nicholas. He’s one of the nicer ones, I promise.”
That smile was winning as he stood up and walked the way he came. Ellie saw it then, the truck he was walking towards, he came from a homeless shelter.
She didn’t recognize the name though, that was weird. Looking at the card, the writing was fuzzy, like her eyes weren’t working properly for a second, and, and then the words formed. Oh, there it went. Huh. It was an unemployment agency. That’s funny, she thought she’d been to every single one in the city, she didn’t recognize this one either. That was really strange, he wasn’t acting like he was new to the area. New people had this way about them, she'd noticed, very buddy buddy, trying to be everyone's best friend. Now this guy, yes he’d been nice, but then he’d left her with the sandwich, holding the card in her hand, slightly blood smeared from her fingers, and then gone back about his work.. Like he was an old hand at this.
Looking down at the card, Ellie sighed. Nicholas.
Well, she obviously needed to go to the clinic anyway right. Even if she had a strange feeling about it, Ellie tucked the card into her ratty jeans pocket and opened up the sandwich. She’d only eat half now and save the other half for tomorrow, for before she’d go and see if she could get in at the clinic.
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Ellie had been waiting hours to get in at the clinic.
Just her luck. There were too many people and she had already this morning been waiting there for so long that she knew she would end up sleeping on the front stoop if she continued on trying to wait to see a doctor. No matter how many times she tried to get the nurses attention, there was always someone who was yelling louder than her, and not even when she had another coughing fit did that get her attention..
It was late afternoon by the time that Ellie was finally taking a time out from the chaos and a short break to get some fresh air by the door, just trying to breathe, that you spotted the friendly man from the day before.. Waving at you from the building across the road.. That was where he’d said the agency was, across the road.
He was waving her over.
Glancing back into the clinic, she’d be waiting here for hours still and she knew it, and she wasn't even sure the nurse had ever put her name on the list of patients despite already being here, for hours already. Signing in this morning had been the strangest thing, she’d set the intake form down, and yet, nothing.
Walking across the street towards the guy, he was still smiling..
“I was wondering when you’d arrive.”
So, he was that sure she’d come, strange. Swallowing, her throat hurt so much from all the coughing, but she didn’t want to complain, not if she could get a job, any job right now would be better than nothing.
“Come on in, I’m Steven by the way, let’s find Nick, he’s the guy for you, I know it.”
Ellie followed him, she felt obliged to this time, not sure why, like she was being tugged along. The building wasn’t anything strange, just an office building.
“Ah, here we go, right though here.. Nicholas Ruffilo. He'll be able to help you.”
Well, here goes nothing. What did she have to lose right?
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Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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beingdreeyore · 3 months
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I read an article the other day on how cooking for one is an act of self-love for us single folk and I have to agree.
I have this routine these days. Through the first half of the week I scroll through recipes, typically on the Recipe Tin Eats site. I search for things I've never heard of that are common in faraway places and I tag them. One-by-one I add items to my online shopping cart. By Thursday I place the order for home delivery and then first thing on Saturday morning as the sun is just rising (a decision I regret every week), the groceries get delivered.
In the last six months I've tried new ingredients, new recipes, new cooking methods. There are spices I'd never even heard of before that I'm now comfortable using and recipes for foods from places I didn't know existed that are slowly creeping into my weekly repertoire. My tiny kitchen is now too small for the appliances and utensils that I own. Food has become too big in my life.
It's a weekly routine that I look forward to. There's something soothing about it that I can't quite put my finger on, but I know that it works. Meal prep for work lunches is no longer grilled or shredded chicken with a garden salad.
I mention it today because I woke to a wave of grief and emotion over the men that have come and gone from my life over the years, and I was shocked to find myself feeling that way. But then it clocked what feminine things were occurring in my body at this time of the month and I shook it off. I shook it off because the feeling is mostly foreign these days and I'm so confident it will pass as this stage of the monthly cycle passes. The loneliness and lack of love doesn't drown me as frequently or quite severely as it used to. My life has become this solitary little routine that seems to feed my soul and keep it nourished. The cooking and the preparation seems to be a big part of that and I'm not really sure why or how. I just know that every weekend I prep for the week ahead and the learning, exploration, and then the reward at the end really is such an act of self-love that it has a grounding quality to it. It settles me.
The level of acceptance I have for myself and who I am is so high these days. I still see my flaws and I still work at them, but I also am unapologetically who I am. When I'm not at work, even though I'm mostly alone, I now routinely do all these little things that make me content in my solo little bubble. I wonder at times how a man would ever fit into my life now. What man would be worth disrupting my peace when it took so long (and so much money on therapy...) to create?
So it's a simple thing, this cooking routine, but it is an act of self-love. In the madness that is this new year and the world right now, it's a practice in mindfulness that doesn't involve sitting on a yoga mat with my eyes closed and it gets me better results. It turns out that keeping your body nourished can also be a way to keep your soul nourished.
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mbti-notes · 1 month
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Anon wrote: Hello MBTI-notes! I'm an INTJ seeking for help on how to deal w my situation that involves considering finance. I tend to be good at dealing with these practical problems but this dilemma gets mixed into a great relationship that I'm very unwilling to let go, my relationship w my current bf who's INFJ.
I'm not someone who seeks a lavish lifestyle, but I'm apprehensive about facing homelessness in the future, having to rent year-round.
We've been together for over six years. Meeting him brings me so much joy; he's truly the man of my dreams I've been waiting for all these years. My second love. He's warm, gentle, kind-hearted. I can feel his sincerity, he treats me with affection, often buying gifts to make me happy, doting on me. He cooks delicious meals and often cooks for me. Attentive, taking care of me in every way, always proactive in expressing his love. We also understand each other in a spiritual way that no one had ever done to me in my life. A quiet morning with him is blissful. Sometimes, we even know what each other is thinking without speaking.
Everything seems perfect; his love for me is beautiful, but unfortunately, he comes from a difficult family background. Ten years ago, his family had to sell their house to help his father pay off a large debt, and since then, they've been renting. His mother passed away long ago, and now he lives with his father and older brother. He's filial, responsible for the family, the main pillar, burdened with the responsibility of providing for their needs. Financial burden had been his obstacle both in personal relationship & job. Without intrinsic motivation, maybe he would have dropped uni in his last year.
Understanding his situation, I don't demand material things from him. Even when we dine out, I share expenses with him, alternating who pays to ease his financial burden. Often, I feel sorry for him, such a good man in such dire family circumstances. My own family is luckier; we don't have to pay rent monthly, though we're just a middle-class family, not affluent.
In this relationship, I feel like I'm standing at a crossroads. Because of his financial constraints, loving him requires me to consider many things: thoughts of the future, a small family, future children. Is it okay to have no stable home, to rent from year to year? Will we argue over financial matters constantly? Is love enough to overcome hunger? I truly don't know. We love each other sincerely; I'd regret losing him. Is this economic instability sustainable? Should I let go of a good but poor man? I wish he was at least richer.
Any advice would be appreciated. Thank you.
----------------------
Deep down, you suspect this is a once-in-a-lifetime relationship, and you may be right. Can you really put a price tag on something as precious as that? You're basically asking whether one can put a price on love. It is a matter of opinion. Some will say yes, some will say no. Perhaps I'm a hopeless romantic, so I would say no. At the end of the day, it is a judgment you have to make based on what you value most in life or how you decide to rank your values. It's not my place to tell you what you value or what to value.
The obvious question is: Have you brought this issue up with him and have you had productive discussions about it? If so, what are the key points you keep getting stuck on? If you haven't discussed it properly yet, that's a problem, because these things should already be clarified by year six of a relationship.
Like you said, you don't demand to live lavishly. You are mainly concerned with financial security, and you use home ownership as a barometer. I don't believe home ownership is an impossible goal for two highly motivated people. You might have to hustle, work hard, be creative, manage finances very closely, choose your residence wisely, etc, but it's possible. It might also help to get expert financial guidance. However, you both have to commit to the goal and make some sacrifices in order to achieve it. For example, he may have to pull back a little from his family duties, or you may have to put off children for a few years.
What are you each willing to sacrifice in order to contribute an equitable effort to this goal of home ownership? In a perfect world, these practical matters shouldn't interfere with love. In reality, they don't have to, as long as you can communicate, negotiate, compromise, and reach an agreement that both parties can live with and abide by. Although money can be a sensitive issue, it is a practical problem, isn't it? So, use practical methods to resolve it.
When you feel stuck, it often means you haven't taken enough action to address a problem. And you should remember that big problems can't usually be solved all at once. You need to break it up into steps and then take one step at a time. By doing this, you create some forward momentum and feel less stuck. Since you are both Ni dom, it might be worth mentioning that you shouldn't approach life as though every decision is a life-or-death or all-or-nothing decision. It is okay to change your mind upon gathering more evidence that things aren't going to work out after all. Until then, all you can do is give it your best shot, step by step. A great way to avoid regret is to make sure you've completely exhausted the opportunity before deciding to move on to the next one.
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
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Alien!Jungkook
𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓬 [Nighttime] 🔞 TEASER
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He's technically well enough to live on his own and, most of all, live his own life. But he's chosen you as his home- and it's time to claim what's his.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, mentions of eating raw meat, suggestive, Jungkook's.. interesting way of flirting, smut, he's not very soft tbh, manhandling, size kink oops, post-sex cuddles, aftercare, but it's lazy haha, grooming, he's a big cat alien after all, he uh.. cleans her up down there after, he's so cute and clueless sometimes istg
A/N: THERE IS NO TAGLIST. THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS. THERE REALLY ISN'T. DO NOT ASK.
━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━
He wants to take care of you properly after all.
So he started learning how to cook proper human meals that have good nutritional value for their bodies. He also began researching how to help you through your monthly cycle, and how to otherwise court you.
Humans apparently really don't court each other- they kind of just send each other messages on their phones, and then they meet up for food or alcohol. They do that once or twice to see if they like each other, and then they start 'going out'- which funnily for some doesn't involve walking anywhere at all.
Where's the proving one's value? He's got to show you how capable he is in providing; whether it be comfort, safety or even physical valuables such as food. How would you know whether or not he'd be a good time investment? It's no wonder so many humans whine and complain about 'wasting time' on the wrong partners when they just choose them on nothing but a 'feel of the moment'.
Humans are truly weird.
Then again, humans are also very emotional beings. They choose a lot of things based on their feelings alone, and they cherish opinions and other people's emotions a lot, even if they don't know each other. They make many friendships quickly, form huge social circles, and some of them even have relationships with multiple partners. Everything a human does is connected to feelings, it seems like. Apparently, they need to check if they're emotionally compatible first before they even think about mating.
Oh god, mating.
Humans are horribly complicated he's come to learn- it takes some of them months and even years of emotionally connecting before they get together for the first time. And when they do, it's sounds so complicated.
Some like certain positions, others have so-called 'kinks', and then some have a favoritism for certain acts that actually have nothing to do with reproduction. Jungkook had been horrified when he read something about 'eating someone out'- until he learned that it had nothing to do with actual cannibalism.
Human beings love pleasure. For Jungkook, that had always been somewhat of a luxury- but here on earth, humans see it as a necessity even. It makes him eager to prove himself as a lover who can match the capabilities of a human one- maybe even exceed them.
"Would you consider me someone you'd mate with?" Jungkook asks as he watches you pout hot water into a cup filled with a little bag. Tea is what you're making.
He doesn't like it- he burned his tongue on it a few days back. Why would you drink something that hurts?
"I- uh, what?" You stammer, having to put the kettle down as you're clearly caught off guard.
"Mating. Sex, is what you call it here right?" Jungkook hums, leaning on the kitchen counter almost innocently. How can he look at you with his stupid round boba-ball eyes while asking you if you'd like to fuck him?!
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capriciouscaprine · 2 months
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good morning!!!!! I had good number news this morning!!! lotsssss of numbers below, just fyi
I haven't really talked about my goals or current numbers on here, in part bc I was worried that if that was one of the first things I posted, whatever flagging bot gets used on here (I know, it's mostly crusaders who go thru the tags and mass repo blogs that gets us distapeared) would see those things and I'd be on their no-fly list immediately
plus, there's something to be said for the fear of saying something out loud, when I've not been the sort of person to stick to hobbies and things before
BUT
last week, I hit a goal of $125.4 (iirc), which means I hit a simultaneous goal of a 'healthy' -$5/month for 15 months straight, for a total of -$75.00 from my starting balance of $200.00
which, I honestly was having trouble being excited about hitting that goal bc of our common habit of rounding up, so any decimals next to that number it feel like I hadn't actually hit it, and I had worked REALLY HARD to get there, including a multi-mile treadmill walk and everything
BUT
my check in day is monday (start the week off informed!); on tuesday the monthly obnoxiousness started, and most of us who experience that will skip check in days that are close to it bc it messes with our bodies so much, so our measurements will be inaccurate
then, last week was spring break for my internship, but it's only two days a week, so I spent two days last week almost entirely sitting at my computer, working on my course work
meanwhile, in the same week, I clocked THEE MOST hours at my almost entirely outdoor, moderately physical job in about six months aka since about mid-fall, as late fall thru early spring is our slow season and things are now picking back up; I spent the week planting seedlings, repairing fences, running around after babies, and doing deeper cleaning now that things are warmer and deep bedding isn't so much of a priority
which, I spent last summer consistently dropping without thinking too much about it, tbh, and I'm pretty sure now that it's bc of this job (there was other stuff like switching from regular ice cream to halo top, etc, but on the whole I wasn't doing things like counting and I hadn't even made this blog yet)
and for meals this week, I seemed to average just about 1k; some days were higher and others were lower, some days I felt like an unwilling black hole and others I was just... fine after eating a small lunch/dinner (I keep weird hours, it was the final meal of the day for me, idk); plus, no semi-fraught Easter lunch with my family
SO
that brings us to today's check in
$123.2
officially, for realsies, under that $125.00 goal, and also the amount I claimed on my drivers license bc I thought it was funny and it was only a little lower than my actual amount BEFORE UNIVERSITY, AND very genuinely really close to a secret goal I've had since I heard it as a song lyric in 11th grade: $120.00
I know, it's such a silly thing to base a goal off of, and really highlights just how pervasive unrealistic body standards are, that some man stated it as the measure of a fictional grown woman he was writing about who you KNOW he envisioned as being 'curvy' and taller than a literal child
but I'm still gonna hit it
and yep, I'm once of those people who have reduced their goals over time; you think a number sounds really low, and then you find out how much people who look the way you want to measure in at, and realize that if that's where you wanna be, this number isn't going to have you looking like that unless it's mostly muscle, and I'm for sure not mostly muscle
anyways, introspection on societal pressures out of the way, this morning's breakfast was a 1/3 of a cup of egg substitute (50), two low f 'canadian bacon' slices (20 each for 40 together), a slice of lite toast (45) with lite country crock spread (about 1/2 a tblsp, so half of 35), and my coffee (25), so that's a relatively high f and protein breakfast for just under 200 (and of course we round up to the bigger whole number!)
I was hoping to feel satiated from that, but it's not quite hitting like yesterday's grilled cheese did; ah, well, just one more data point to take note of!
now, fingers crossed I can finish this presentation before work this morning!!!
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thodi · 10 months
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JULY ‘23 READINGS
Are You Thunder or Lightning? • prose
When your friend starts posting like an influencer • prose
Eye to Eye • prose
Among the Trees • prose
May Sarton on the Art of Living Alone • prose
Before They Were Cliches: On the Origins of 8 Worn Out Idioms • prose
The Optimization Sinkhole • prose
A catatonic woman awakened after 20 years. Her story may change psychiatry. • prose
The country where fútbol comes first • prose
Hitting Zero • prose
Evolution and Our Obsession with True Crime • prose
The Rise of ‘Dry Dating,’ or Dating While Sober, Explained • prose
where the crawvlads sing • prose
Participation At Scale Can Repair The Public Square • prose
I re-read my teenage diaries hoping for a dose of nostalgia – instead I was horrified • prose (tw: eating disorder)
A Mother’s Exchange for Her Daughter’s Future • prose
Some Comics For Your Work Day. • comics
Sylvia Plath’s Visual Notes • prose, illustration
The Sounds Of Invisible Worlds • prose
Meals for One • prose
wake me up before you dojo • prose
Wonky • music, interactive
Humans are biased. Generative AI is even worse • prose
Anaïs Nin’s Decade-Long Adventure in Bicoastal Bigamy • prose
Big Songs, Big Emotions: On Glee, Santana’s Coming Out Scene, and Naya Rivera • prose
On doing things alone • prose
Speaking To Men At Parties • prose
All those naked Greeks… • prose
The Meaning of Suffering • prose
subscribe to The Good Side of the Internet for monthly recs like this, and to thodi for bite-sized weekly ones.
tag list (reach out if you want to be tagged on these!) - @then-child-make-another @hellwurld
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dollz-punk · 8 months
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Reader submitted Beanie Baby Poetry from "Mary Beth's Bean Bag World Monthly" Vol. 2 No. 13, published October 1999.
Scanned by me :o) (@dollz-punk)
Text only versions of the poems under the cut.
Image 1: Poem titled "Beanie baby sickness" Written by Stephannie L. P, 13 years old. "First Grandma caught it, then she passed it on to me. This Beanie Baby sickness is like a flue, you see. Fortunately once you catch it, it turns into an addiction. You always want more to complete your collection! First I got Ziggy, Then I laid eyes on that cute little piggy. Eventually I had 20, Mom decided that was plenty. I begged to differ because I still needed Puffer. After she gave in, Grandma bought me Fortune. Then McDonald's came out with the Teenie Beanies. The first 10 Happy Meals were pretty good. I ate all those hamburgers - as many as I could. In not too long, the food tasted bad. And I began to feel very, very sad. Then I got a call - it was from my Uncle Paul. He said he had extras of all the Teenies. My Wish had been granted! I think he's my Genie. Daddy had driven me everywhere. He claimed that he didn't care, but I knew I'd passed it on to Daddy. Because when we got home. he asked to see my Patti!"
Image 2: Poem titled "Good night Beanies" Written by Susie N. from Kentucky. "Beanie Babies are cute and, oh, so cool! All night they dance around my room. Ride on puppets, go zoom-zoom. Whenever they get tired, they go off to bed. Good night, good night, sleepyhead. In the morning, they arise. They always wake before sunrise. Bucky goes swimming and Peanut for a jog. And Ally goes fishing with Smoochy the frog. Stretch goes on picnics and Pinky for a dip. Inch and Goldie play tag with Flip. All day long Quackers is waddling with Jake to the pond to visit Peking. When finally, all is said and done, and once again down goes the sun, off to bed in their haven so deep. Goodnight, goodnight and off to sleep!"
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jessybarnes · 2 years
Text
Dirty Little Secret
Title: Dirty Little Secret
Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan 
Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!
Word Count: 4,882
Tags: SMUT, angst, fluff, frottage, role play, secret crush, uniform kink, sleeping in, anal sex, jacking off, kissing, praise kink, slight dom/sub, begging, nipple play, biting, marking, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think that’s it.
Written For: @kinktober2022, @ultimatechrisbingo, @sebastianstanbingo, @lgbtqbingo, @anyfandomangstbingo, and @anyfandomfluffbingo
Squares Filled: Frottage for Kinktober 2022 // O1 - Role Play for Ultimate Chris Bingo // B5 - Secret Crush for LGBTQ Bingo // O5 - Uniform Kink for Sebastian Stan Bingo // N-5 “What the fuck am I seeing?” For AFG Angst Bingo // B5 - Sleeping In for AFG Fluff Bingo
Beta(s): T. Thompson,  A. DiLorenza, and J. Landis 
Title Card: Yours Truly 
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Sebastian loves going to Chris’s for the holidays. 
The warm welcome from his family, the home-cooked meals Lisa always makes, and the camaraderie all make him feel at home. What he loves most of all, however, is being able to spend time with his best friend.
Sebastian’s mother comes to visit him every chance she gets, but with the price of airline tickets these days, he understands that she can't always make it out to see him. He makes it up to her by traveling to see her during the summer months anyway. 
He finally pulls into their driveway and grabs his suitcase before walking up to their beautifully decorated house. That's another thing about the Evans family. Their holiday decor never ceases to amaze him. 
His knuckles rap on the door, and moments later, he's greeted with the warm embrace of the man himself. 
Chris holds him close for a few seconds. One hand is splayed across his back while the other squeezes his bicep. Sebastian closes his eyes and revels in the soothing scent of his aftershave paired with the smooth baritone voice he loves so much. 
"Seb, you made it! How was the drive? Was there a lot of traffic?" 
Sebastian’s smile comes easily. Even if his stomach is full of butterflies and turmoil, he's not going to worry Chris about those things. Not because he doesn't think his best friend would be there for him. No, he's certain Chris would do anything for him. 
It's because he can't. 
Their friendship is something he cherishes. The monthly movie nights where they each pick the cheesiest movie they can find and laugh together, the trips to the dog park with Dodger where they play frisbee and reminisce about filming their past movies, and the fact that he always has a place at the Evans dinner table. Yeah, if being able to have all of that means he has to push aside his feelings, then that's what he'll do. 
"Traffic was a little heavier than usual, but that's to be expected this time of year." He smiles gratefully at Chris, admiring the happiness in his eyes. "Thank you for inviting me. It really means a lot." 
"Sebastian, you know your family too, right? Mom loves you as her own, and Dad talks about you to his friends all the time. Not to mention the fact that I walked in on Shanna, Scott, and Carly watching The Covenant the other day.”
“Oh, god…that old thing?” Sebastian’s cheeks are tinted pink. “As great of an opportunity as it was at the time, that has to be the cheesiest movie I’ve ever been in.”
Chris laughs, and it makes Sebastian’s stomach flip. God, he loves making him laugh. 
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad. Besides, I think you carried that movie if we’re being honest. No offense to Steven and the other guys, of course.”
Lisa’s voice cuts him off before he can respond, “Is that Sebastian?”
“Yeah, Ma. He just got here.”
She comes around the corner, sporting a festive apron, and opens her arms to hug him “Oh, Seb, it’s great to see you, dear. I made up the guest room for you if you need to freshen up. Dinner will be in about an hour.”
“It’s great to be here. Thank you for having me. You didn’t have to, you know.” 
“Oh, nonsense!” She swats his bicep, “I couldn’t let Chris’s best friend be alone on Thanksgiving. You’re practically my son anyway.”
Chris grabs his bag and walks toward the hallway, calling after him. “Told you so!” 
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An hour later, Sebastian joins Chris and the rest of his family in their formal dining room. The table is set, the fireplace is crackling, and the food looks as delicious as it smells. He falls into conversion easily, just like he always does when he’s with the Evans family. 
Robert asks him about the projects he’s currently working on, and he beams as he tells them. Sebastian has always been so thankful for what he gets to do for a living. Being able to wake up and create movies and TV shows and the like for the world to see is truly amazing to experience. 
After a little while, the conversations die down, and they settle into their food. It’s quite the spread, but Sebastian wouldn’t expect anything less from Lisa. When she cooks, she cooks for the whole neighborhood. 
Chris takes a bite of mashed potatoes and moans around the fork, and it makes Sebastian nearly choke on his tea. “Ma, this is heavenly!”
Sebastian closes his eyes and swallows. It feels like the universe is torturing him. It should be a sin for his best friend to make noises like that. He moves his fork around his nearly empty plate and watches Chris innocently. He’s laughing again, about what he isn’t sure, but he’s looking at him like he’s hanging on every word. 
Scott watches from across the table and smirks knowingly. He’s seen that look before. Hell, he looks at his boyfriend the same damn way. It pains him a little to see the turmoil and longing in Sebastian’s eyes. He spent the better part of his life fighting who he truly is, and he’ll be damned if he lets someone else, especially someone he cares about, go through the same thing. 
“Hey, Chris? He takes one last sip of his drink before continuing, “I’ll clean up the dishes so you can take Dodger on a walk. Hey Seb, would you mind helping me? I’ll wash and you dry.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping, but I did kind of want to get back in time to watch the football game” Chris looks over at Sebastian, “you don’t mind, do you?”
Seb shakes his head, “not at all! It’s the least that I can do.” 
A few minutes later, he and Scott are in the kitchen standing in front of the sink. They share comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the running water and the light clinking of dishes. 
Sebastian chews on his lip as he replays the sound Chris made over in his head. He feels like a perv, thinking about him like that, but he can’t help it. He shakes the thought away as he takes another plate from Scott. 
“You should tell him, you know.”
The dish nearly falls out of his hands, “w-what?”
“Oh, come on,” Scott scoffs, “I see the way you look at him, Sebastian. I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night.”
Sebastian falters and tries to keep his breathing steady. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Telling him would ruin everything, and I can’t lose that. I…I can’t lose him.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
He stares at Chris’s brother with bewilderment, “but I-”
“No. No buts. Are you forgetting how much our family loves you? How much Chris loves you?”
Sebastian shakes his head, “but he doesn’t see me that way, and what happens if I tell him how I feel and it makes things weird? I don’t want to lose my best friend, Scott.”
Scott rests his hand on Seb’s shoulder and looks sincerely into his eyes. “Listen to me when I tell you this, okay? You can believe it or not, but regardless, I need you to hear this. As you know, my brother is still single. I know he wants to find that perfect someone to settle down with and have a big family, it’s all he’s talked about lately. Well, the other day, he and I were out in the garage working on his car, and we got on the subject of the Captain America movies. Specifically, what it was like working with you on Captain America: The Winter Soldier and something donned on me.” 
Sebastian leans against the counter and waits for him to continue. 
“I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it before, but that’s neither here nor there. I looked at Chris, and I told him point blank that you are exactly his type, just the wrong gender, and I saw something click. He didn’t elaborate on what he was thinking after that, but I firmly believe that he harbors some sort of romantic feelings for you.”
Sebastian felt a lump begin to form in his throat, and he wrapped his arms around Scott tightly. 
“Thank you.” 
“Don’t thank me, just go get ‘em, tiger!” 
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The evening came quickly, and soon, everyone was getting ready to turn in for the night. Robert is asleep in the recliner, the post-football game segment is playing softy in the background, Lisa is putting away the leftovers, Shanna and Carly are playing with Dodger out back, Scott disappeared into his room to facetime his boyfriend, and Sebastian and Chris are sitting on the front porch having a beer. 
"You're awful quiet tonight." 
Sebastian takes a long pull of his bottle and lets Chris’s statement marinate for a moment. He wants to follow Scott's advice, but it's still scary. He doesn't want to fuck this up. 
"I'm just uh… just a lot on my mind." 
"Wanna talk about it?" Chris looks over at him, and Sebastian almost forgets to breathe from the way the moonlight shines on his best friend's face.
"I do. I really do, but I don't think I'm ready. It's… it's pretty big, and I wanna make sure I do things right, ya know?" 
Chris nods, "I understand, Seb. Just know that I'm always here for you. We've been through a lot together, and you can talk to me about anything." 
He sighs and looks up at the constellations, admiring the way the stars twinkle in the night sky. Sometimes, he wishes he could just go to one of those other stars just to be alone with his thoughts for a while. Chris touches his arm lightly, and he’s instantly brought back to reality. 
“You know that, don’t you? That you can talk to me about anything?”
Sebastian’s lip curls into a half smile, “I do know. Thank you for always being here for me.” He stands up and takes Chris’s empty bottle in his other hand, “I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you tomorrow, Seb.”
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Sebastian can’t sleep. He tosses and turns, trying his best to get comfortable and warm. The Evans guest room is one of the outer rooms of their home and doesn’t generate much heat. He isn’t complaining per se; he just wishes there was another comforter he could use to keep warm. He’d get up and ask Lisa, but it’s one thirty in the morning, and he isn’t going to bother her this early. That wouldn’t be polite of him. 
He sighs and throws back the covers. Even in his sweatpants and long sleeve shirt he’s still freezing. The closet across the room catches his eye, and he’s hopeful that maybe there are some blankets in there that he can use. 
Seb gets up and switches on the bedside lamp before padding across the carpet. At first, he doesn’t see anything other than some Christmas decorations and some totes labeled ‘photo albums’. Finally, he sees a stack of blankets on one of the higher shelves, but before he can reach for one, something else stops him in his tracks.
There, hanging on one of the hangers in the back corner is a Steve Rogers costume. Specifically, the one he wore in Avenger’s Infinity War. Against his better judgment, he reaches out a shaky hand to touch it. His eyes close, and he swallows thickly as he pictures the way Chris looked wearing it. God, he looked so good. Well, he always does, but wearing this? Fuck, it was a miracle he got through shooting those scenes with him without getting hard.  
Speaking of that, he’s thankful that he’s alone in here right now because that’s exactly what’s happening. He’s rock fucking hard over a goddamn costume. 
He knows it’s wrong; he knows that Chris’s entire immediate family is just feet away from him, but it’s like he’s in a trance. He can’t stop himself from taking it off the hanger and bringing it to his face to smell it. He breathes in, and even though it smells mostly like Lisa and Robert’s house, there’s still a faint smell of Chris’s cologne. It makes his cock twitch and leak against his thigh, and he can’t help the low groan that falls past his lips.
“Fuck, Steve…”
He’s so far gone at this point that his desire outweighs all of the things that could go wrong if he doesn’t stop now. Sebastian carries the uniform over to the bed and lays down on his side with it pressed up against his body. He can’t get his sweats down fast enough, his cock springing free and hitting the pleather, making him bite his lip. 
Sebastian starts slow, rutting against the fabric with a neediness he’s never felt. He inhales Chris’s scent, and it becomes intoxicating. Like a drug, he can’t get enough of it fast enough.
“Oh, god…”
He can feel the desire pooling in his abdomen, and he knows he won’t be able to last. He’s nearly there, teetering on the edge as he thrusts his hips against the uniform desperately chasing his high. 
Sebastian is so focused that he doesn’t hear the door open, nor does he see the horrified look on Chris’s face. Not until his voice slams him back to reality like a train hitting a brick wall.
“Oh, shit! Fuck! I-I’m sorry!”
Sebastian’s eyes snap open, and he scrambles for the covers as he tries his best to hide the evidence of what he was doing just moments ago. 
“Oh, my god… Oh, god… Chris, please, no I’m the one that’s sorry. I just… I…”
He can’t even form words. He’s so humiliated, and he’s certain that this couldn’t get any worse. 
Except, it does.
“Seb, what… what the fuck am I seeing? Is… Is that my Steve costume?”
If Sebastian could, he’d give anything in the world to be somewhere else. Anywhere but here. He covers his face with his hands and tries to stop himself from bursting into tears. He should have known better. He should have fucking stopped himself because the worst thing that could have happened did, and now he’s ruined everything. 
He feels the bed dip, and he brings his knees to his chest to try and make himself smaller. He’s never been more embarrassed in his life. Chris tentatively touches his arm, and he flinches. 
“Sebastian? Will you just look at me? Please? I just… I want to understand. I’m not angry. I’m just confused.”
He raises his head slowly and blinks back tears, “What do you mean you don’t understand? Can’t you see that I’m a freak?… I’m a fucking perv who gets off by thinking of my best fucking friend in his Captain America costume. I’m sorry you had to find out like this… I… I think I should go before I make things wor-” 
“Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”
Sebastian locks eyes with Chris, and he’s surprised to see how soft and sincere they are. There’s no anger, no disgust, nothing that makes him think that Chris is upset with him. 
“You don’t? But I-”
“Sebastian, of course, I don’t want you to go. It’s nearly two in the morning, and the roads are icy. I’m sorry if I seemed angry earlier; I was just… shocked. I saw your light on when I was heading to the kitchen for some water and thought something was wrong. You can imagine my surprise when I walked in and saw you fucking my Avenger costume. That wasn’t even on my radar.”
Chris scoots closer and slowly reaches out to cup his cheek. “Scott was right. You are exactly my type, and I should have seen it before. I should have fuckin’ done this sooner.” 
Sebastian doesn’t have time to react because in the next second Chris’s lips are on his. He doesn’t kiss back at first, still too surprised to think straight, but soon he’s kissing him back with fervor. 
Chris pulls away after a moment and gives him a sheepish smile. “Does that prove I want you to stay?” 
Sebastian blinks, “I…yeah. Yeah, it does, but aren’t you…” He’s afraid to even ask for fear of ruining the moment, but he has to know. “Aren’t you… ya know… weirded out that I have a thing for you in uniform?”
“Do you think I would be kissing you if I was weirded out?” He glides his hand over a rough denim patch near the chest plate of his costume., “I actually thought it was hot, really hot, seeing you all needy like that.” His eyes darken, and Sebastian’s breath hitches. “And seeing as you didn’t get to finish, I think it’s only fair that I help you out.” 
Sebastian is speechless as he watches Chris stand up and take off his shirt. His eyes dance over his muscles and the way they flex as he tosses the tee in the corner of the room. He’s so focused on the smattering of chest hair and the perfect, dark ink of his tattoos that he doesn’t notice him grab the uniform. 
He sucks in a breath when he realizes what’s happening, and he can’t stop his moan when Chris takes off his boxers. His eyes trail down past his abs, below his deliciously defined Adonis belt, to his thick, hard cock. 
“See anything you like, sweetheart?”
He swallows and nods his head because he’s rendered speechless. Fuck, he’s big…really big, and he desperately wants to taste him, to feel him stretching him open and he almost cums from the thought alone. 
Chris smirks and steps into the suit. “I haven’t worn this in a while, so I hope I still look as good in it now as I apparently did then.” 
“Y-You… You’re…. Beautiful…”
The blonde chuckles, “Oh, honey, listen to you. Can barely even speak and I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” He zips up the costume everywhere but one particular place and climbs on the bed to hover over Sebastian. He’s wide-eyed and flushed, his dick just as hard as Chris’s as it rests just below his belly button. 
Sebastian watches as he pulls his cock out and chokes out a moan when Chris takes both of them in his gloved hand and begins stroking them.
“Oh, my fu-... Oh, god!”
Chris drags his thumb over Seb’s bottom lip and groans. “Shh, you gotta be quiet, baby. I know it feels good, but these walls are thin.”
Sebastian bites his lip and digs his blunt nails into Chris’s biceps. Little crescent indents mark his smooth skin. Chris moves faster and twists his wrist slightly when it gets to their flared heads. He’s drunk on the way Seb is looking up at him. He opens his mouth and arches into him, and Chris takes the opportunity to suck on the skin above his pulse point. 
“Ch-Chris…” Sebastian whines and rolls his hips upward for more friction. 
“Now, baby, you know that’s not my name…”
Sebastian shudders and almost loses it right then and there. 
“Come on, Sebastian,” Chris moans softly and looks down at him with hooded eyes. “What’s my name, sweetheart?”
“S-Steve…,” he whines desperately. 
“That’s right, sugar. Tell Stevie what you need.”
Sebastian is losing it and losing it fast. The way Chris’s cock is sliding against his, slick from their combined pre-cum, how just the right roughness from his glove is digging into his sensitive skin, and the way he’s panting above him like a touch-starved man. 
“M-More… Oh, fuck, please!”
Chris flips them over so Sebastian is on top and tugs at his sweats. “These. Off. Now.”
Sebastian nearly rips them trying to take off his clothes and then he’s right back to straddle the blonde. There’s a new dominance he’s never been on the receiving end of from his best friend and his cock twitches in interest. 
“That’s much better, baby. You’re so obedient, Sebastian. I love hearing you beg like that. You make the most beautiful sounds for me.” Chris’s fingertips just barely touch the brunette’s shaft and his eyes flutter closed. “This pretty, pink cock is makin’ such a mess all over my uniform,” he tuts. Look at that, you’re dripping all over me…such a messy, messy boy.” Seb whines desperately and Chris smirks. “You’re gonna make a bigger mess for me though. Gonna cum all over for Steve, aren’t you, honey?”
“God, yes!”
Chris grabs his bare hips and guides him as Sebastian rubs his cock over his own. 
"That's right, baby. Keep moving just like that. Make yourself feel good," 
Sebastian rocks his hips, his sensitive, pink tip gliding effortlessly along Chris’s. He's whimpering, trying desperately to stay quiet like he was told.
"Mmm, you look so pretty, sweetheart. You're being such a good boy, Sebastian. How does it feel, hm? Do you like feelin' Steve's cock against yours?" 
"Steve! Oh, fuck, Steve I-...It feels s-so good!"
"Yeah? I bet you'd look gorgeous fucking yourself on it too. Bouncin' up and down, takin' me all nice and deep. Do you want that, baby?" 
Sebastian bites the side of his hand to stifle a moan, "Oh, please!" 
Chris’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, "Do you want me to open you up, honey?"
"No…no, I wanna feel all of you. Please, Stevie?"
Chris takes one of the gloves off and spits on his hand. “Alright, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself, sugar. Promise me you’ll take your time, okay?” Seb shakes his head yes and Chris strokes himself a couple of times to allow for some sort of lubrication. He guides Sebastian so his dick is pressing up against his entrance. “Go ahead, baby.”
And Sebastian does. He slowly sinks down, lower and lower until he’s fully seated against Chris’s toned upper thighs. He can’t breathe, he can’t even think about anything else other than how full he is.
Chris is in awe of him. It never once crossed his mind that Sebastian, his best friend, would be the one to make him feel like this. He hasn’t even started moving yet, and he’s already about to explode from how tight he is around him. Seb’s eyes are closed, his mouth opens in ecstasy and his cock is angry-red and leaking all over his stomach. It’s easily the hottest fucking thing he’s ever witnessed. 
“God, Seb, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
“S-Stevie… please… please c-can I-” He can’t even form words he’s so full. Sebastian doesn’t even have to move. He’s so sure he could come just from this, but he wants to be a good boy. He wants, no needs, to be praised. He lives for it.
Chris takes his gloved hand and just barely wraps it around the brunette’s cock. It makes him rock his hips a little and the prettiest whine fills the space between them. Finally, he starts to move. Lifting himself up a little and falling back down at a steady pace. 
He gradually gets faster and soon Chris is lifting his hips to fuck up into him. “Fuck, Seb, you look so fucking good, baby. Knew you’d look so pretty bouncin’ on my dick. God, you’re gonna make me cum already. So fuckin’ tight around me…shit!”
Sebastian is so far gone that anything could be happening around them and he wouldn’t stop. He’s never felt this good in his life. Every time he slams down a jolt of indescribable pleasure shoots through his body and he’s fucking drunk on it. He doesn’t dare open his mouth. Not when he needs to stay quiet because he’s certain that if he so much as parts his lips he’ll wake the dead. 
Chris on the other hand can’t help it. He’s past the point of caring. Fuck it if anyone hears them then so be it. “Fuckin’ ride me, baby… Oh, shit…shit, I’m close… baby, I’m so close. Gonna fuckin’ fill this tight little hole up. You’re gonna make Stevie come baby.” 
He strokes Sebastian from base to tip, matching the speed of his thrusts. Chris knows he’s close, knows he’s right there, and just needs a little extra push. He uses his free hand to sit up and wraps his arm around Sebastian so he can fuck him even harder. 
“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re close. I want you to cum for me… make a mess and cum all over this fucking uniform baby.” He closes his lips over one of Sebastian’s nipples, drags his teeth over it, and growls when he feels him squeeze around him. 
“St-Stevie! I-I’m…I’m cumming! Oh, fuck I’m cumming!”
Chris groans and watches as thick, warm ropes paint his suit. It’s unreal to him how his best friend could make him feel like this. He can’t get enough of him and seeing Sebastian practically convulse in his arms is his undoing. He stills inside of him, filling him to the brim. 
They sit there for a minute and catch their breath. Chris has his forehead against Sebastian’s chest and continues to hold him while his body still shakes in his arms. As carefully as he can he lifts the brunette off of him and lays him down against the pillows. 
“I’m gonna go get something to clean you up. Okay, honey?”
Seb hums and that’s enough for Chris. He makes sure the coast is clear and grabs a washcloth from the bathroom. Surprisingly, the house is silent, and he’s thankful that his family are heavy sleepers. 
Once he’s back he gently cleans Sebastian off and then himself before changing back into his previous clothes. He doesn’t bother getting Seb dressed. Not when he looks as comfy as he does. Chris admires him for a moment and makes a decision. He’s a gentleman and always has been. His Mom raised him to be and he sure isn’t going to stop now. 
He lifts the blankets and slides in next to Sebastian, holding him close to his chest. “You with me, sweetheart?” 
“M’yeah,” Seb peeks up at him through his lashes. “M’here…just sleepy.”
Chris brushes the hair out of his eyes and kisses him gingerly. “I’m so proud of you, honey. You did so well.”
“Will you stay here with me?”
Chris smiles and pulls him closer. “Oh, baby, I’m not goin’ anywhere. Not when I’ve got the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my arms.”
If Sebastian wasn’t so tired he’d probably cry. Instead, he nuzzles into the blonde’s neck and closes his eyes. “Love you, Chris. Love you s’much.”
Chris swallows, happy tears gathering in his eyes, “I love you too, Sebastian. Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Moments later, he hears Seb’s breathing even out and he closes his own eyes, sleeping taking him shortly after. 
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Scott wakes up to Dodger whining outside his door. He sits up and stretches before getting up to open his door. “Okay, okay, I’m coming Buddy. Did Daddy not let you out?” 
It’s still early, barely even seven in the morning, but Chris is usually the first one up. This is around the time he takes Dodger for a run and Scott wonders if he slept through his alarm. After he opens the back door for his four-legged nephew, he lightly knocks on Chris’s bedroom door. “Chris? Hey, man, you okay? I noticed you weren’t up y-” He opens it and frowns when he sees the bed empty. Then it dons on him, the talk he had with Sebastian yesterday when they were doing dishes. 
As quietly as he can, he goes to the guest room and opens the door. Scott smirks and shakes his head at the sight before him. Chris is on his back, his left arm above his head while the right one is wrapped around Sebastian's bare back. They’re sound asleep, both snoring lightly as Seb lies on his chest. He knows he shouldn’t, but he takes his phone out and snaps a picture anyway. It’ll probably end up in the family photo album at some point. 
Scott shuts the door just as Lisa and the girls come padding down the hallway. He holds up his finger to his lips to let them know to be quiet. “Shh, they’re sleeping.” 
Lisa cocks her head to the side, “They? Who’s th-” She stops and then smiles, “oh…” 
Shanna looks at Carly and holds out her hand. “You owe me fifty bucks!” 
Scott turns his phone around to show them the picture, “I think we should let them sleep in and make them a photo album.” He follows his Mom and sisters into their living room and smiles to himself. 
It took them longer than he expected to get together, and he’s happy to have given them the little nudge they needed. He’s never been happier for Chris. He’s happy that he’s finally found someone who completes him the way he deserves to be. 
And he’s happy that it’s with Sebastian.
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not-poignant · 11 months
Note
Hey there. Do you have any tips on how to stay consistent with writing, and how to stay focused on the task at hand?
Hi anon!
So firstly, I've answered versions of this question quite a few times so you might want to go into the 'Pia on Writing' tag because they'll be there.
A quick look has found:
How to write more words regularly - This one is good for just...straight up practical advice.
But I wanted to speak frankly which is - what works for me might not work for you! We all have different strengths and weaknesses and depending on how we orient towards writing depends on what those weaknesses are. For example, I need to learn how to take more breaks and rest more, and not write as much. The 'writing a lot and sometimes too much' comes pretty easily to me these days.
Not all writers are meant to be consistent writers. I don't have a daily habit and I haven't written anything at all in a week and a half. I have my monthly wordcount and that's it. Someone else might need to write or edit every day, in order to not lose sight of their projects. Someone else might need five intensive days a month. It will depend on their nature, their personality.
Not all writers have the same reasons behind why they can't stay focused on a task. I have ADHD, but I can also hyperfocus on characters and a storyline. Others have ADHD, and cannot hyperfocus on their characters or storyline long enough to finish a story. That's a problem I don't know how to remedy, because I don't have that kind of ADHD, so I've never had to 'solve' it before. Some writers are perfectionists which hamper them, I am not a perfectionist and I'd rather the thing be out in the world with some flaws, than on my computer talking to no one. I need the dopamine more than I need something to be perfect. So you see anon, sometimes the things that impact us just aren't universal, which means you need more specific advice. There will be perfectionist writers who will have lots of great advice, there will be ADHD writers who get bored of a story who have great advice. :D
What I will say is that pretty universally, writing consistently and staying focused are both like muscles in the body. I'm where I'm at today because I've had 9-10 years of practice doing this, and when you start out (which the above link addresses) you will need to aim more realistically and reasonably, and start there.
It's also worth having a really grounded sense of why you want to write more consistently / focus more on your writing. Is it for fun? Is it because you want to finish a project? Is that project something you'll feel good if you finish or are you over it? Is it because you want to make an income? (Have you considered there are approximately 40 billion easier ways to make an income?) Is it because you just want to see if you can do it?
Sitting down and thinking about your motivations here will help motivate you if you can keep your goals in mind. And it will also help clarify what you get out of writing in the first place.
Re: Staying focused. It depends on your distractions. I use music, that helps me. That might be terrible for you. I make sure I'm eating well - the brain needs carbs and fats, and my whole body needs protein and fibre - so I'll have a decent breakfast before starting out. Sleep is important. Drinking regularly is important. There's very basic things here which seem obvious that help a ton with concentration, but if you're not doing them, they're a good place to start. You'd be surprised how much just 'eating balanced meals, drinking regularly and sleeping enough hours' helps with concentration. Like, so much.
A friend of mine uses the Pomodoro method (that would drive me nuts), there's using write-ins like Twitch streams to basically 'body double' with other people who are writing at the same time (I find this very motivational). There's gamification like 4TheWords (love this site). There's 'I get to have a cookie if I write another 200 words.' There's 'actually I've lost focus because this part of the story might be broken and if I just do this the river will start to flow again' as a writing technique.
Mostly, you'll need the time and space to just amass the number of techniques you need to help with both focus and writing regularly. But in all of this, it's vital to be patient with yourself. You can't expect yourself to take a week to end up somewhere that someone else took 3 or 4 years to get to. And it won't be...consistent. Don't side-eye me or anything, but like, we're not meant to be machines, even people who write relatively consistently (like me) need breaks, get burnt out, get tired, are over it, and sometimes need brand new techniques to start working again. Knowing that it's not a linear upward curve of ever-increasing focus lets you also just...be compassionate and patient with yourself.
Oh yeah, because you'll have to get good at both of these too anon. :D Learning discipline and being firm with yourself can't work successfully if you also then mentally punish yourself for not doing it 'well enough' to the point where you don't want to do it anymore. Cultivating the 'I'll try again tomorrow' or 'I did great today!' parts of your brain help a ton with consistency. If you know you're going to be kind to yourself for doing well, and firm but compassionate with yourself when you don't, all of this gets way, way easier.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 years
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Can we get more content for liu in her true form? 👀
The clock strikes eight as you sit alone in the dining room; the meal you prepared hours before now as cold as the chill wafting through the open window. Coming up on your first year as a pair, you made dinner to celebrate your partner's return from her bi-monthly trip out of town. She never told you much about it, other than saying it was a tradion started when she was young and she wasn't quite ready for you to tag along just yet.
The idea popped into mind the night before she left. With her occupation as a butcher, and a fear of you going hungry, Liu would bring you a case of fresh meats along with other food to stock up your fridge. It got to the point that by now your freezer was stocked with enough food to last a few winters, and you had to do something with it all before her next visit.
Your hard work lies across the dinner table, untouched aside from a couple bites taken here and there to combat your own hunger. You check the time agian. There wasn't a set time that she returned, but by now you would've normally seen a text goodnight followed by a request to join for her lunch the next day. You couldn't really say she was keeping you waiting, since this was surprise visit afterall.
Picking up your diluted drink, a loud crash from outside causes you to spill it as you go to take a sip. "Shit."
You grab a towel from the kitchen and stand over by the mirror near the back door as you clean yourself to the best of your control. Fortunately there were no stains, but the front of your shirt was thoroughly soaked. You could probably find something to wear in Liu's closet, however there was still the matter of what was that sound you heard outside. Looking at the back door, the room feels chiller than before. Had... that door always been open?
Turning back to the mirror, you watch the shadows slither around you to form a pair of arms that lock around your neck, a hand over your mouth.
"Shhhhh."
The figure's body is warm. So hot that you can feel your shirt drying beneath its grip. Its skin is a deep red and twisted; like blood stained roots. It face is smooth, yet you can feel its breath on your skin and see its glare. It stares at you through slitted, silver eyes; the iris of its left torn and blackness of its pupil bleeding through. If that weren't enough for you to tell the creature's identity, a locket hangs around its neck - the matching pair to one she bought you weeks ago."
"L...Liu?"
"Don't." She draws out. Her voice is raspy, like her lips hadn't touched a glass of water in years. "Don't call me that. Not now. It's Lucille."
You place your hand over hers, feeling its texture. "What are you?"
"Still don't know. Why are you here?"
"I made dinner. Wanted to surprise you for your return home."
Her head turns towards the table. She rubs her cheek against the back of your neck. "Smells nice. You do too."
Her grip on you tightens. You feel something wet drag over your skin before she lifts her head again. "You... don't listen do you? I've told you before not to come unless I asked. Now you see why... I can't think much like this, but- I'm glad you're here. That you haven't pushed me away even though I'm.. this."
Liu wraps a finger around one of yours, pointed edge poking your skin as she runs it over your knuckle. "You're warm. I know I am too, but sometimes I still feel so cold. You remind me that I'm warm; flesh. I've.. done terrible things. For myself, and for you. Stay- I'll be Liu.. I'll be human again in the morning so all I ask is for you to stay, and allow our love to devour you for one night."
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