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polarisbibliotheque · 2 years

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Update - My Health Saga

Hey guys! I hope you are all doing fine, my beautiful amazing beings that lighten up my day with your presence ^^

I decided to make a post about my health saga (yeah, not a journey; it's almost a walk to Mordor already) so maybe it can help other people going through it as well - and also explaining a bit to you all.

As a big summing up of what I'll be saying here: don't give up on your health and keep going. Someday you'll get a diagnosis and a proper treatment. It can seem like a neverending quest, but trust me, it WILL get to a resolution - sometimes, taking much more time than we actually thought it would. But it is NOT forever.

(Yes. Long post ahead)

So, flashback to 4 years ago.

I was the most hopeless workaholic you could ever think of. I usually stayed at work for 10h, didn't have breaks for the bathroom/drinking water and stopped eating lunch. I was fresh out of college and bullied by my co-workers (having previously been bullied at school and still recovering from it) and my boss knew it and did nothing. My health started going on a downward spiral, but there was nothing I could do.

I tried to find another job, but unemployment was already becoming a huge issue in my country. Why did I stay there? My parents couldn't get retired and couldn't find a job, so it was up to me and my sister to provide everything in the house and hold it all together. She couldn't do it alone, so I couldn't just throw my hands in the air one day and leave. I had to stay there or find a new job.

After 2 years without vacations, I got fired by my new boss only 1 week before taking my 30 days of vacation I had stored up and I desperately needed - and her reason to do so is that I was unmotivated.

Needless to say, I broke down (and got trauma from work). It was a 2h ride back home and I walked all the way back, thinking what the hell I'd tell my parents and my sister. I literally lost everything I had build up to that point in my life.

I tried so hard to find a new job, I sent thousands of CVs, I went to interviews, but I was never able to find something. I started a post-graduation, for everyone was telling me that was what was missing from my CV, but I couldn't focus and had to drop out.

I wasn't doing anything right. I was just trying so so so hard to get my life back, to have my sense of self back - all the while my body was slowly crumbling and I was eating less and less, feeling sick every time I had any kind of food, healthy or not.

Then the pandemics came, we got in a lockdown and I lost my sanity as well as the rest of health I had.

My mom got increasingly worried and I lost lots and lots of weight - I'm currently underweight and people think I'm doing fine. Still, I always tried to go back to my old self, to what I knew I was - desperately trying to hold on to anything that gave me a sense of who I was.

After around a year and a half of lockdown, we started seeing doctors - I needed help. I really needed help, even though I ignored it to keep going, to keep trying.

We went to 6 different doctors and I went through all the medical exams you can imagine. Invasive ones, non invasive, blood tests... The whole thing. I got skinnier, exhausted and barely able to do the things I always did. To the point of looking at myself in the mirror and not knowing who the hell that was - externally and internally.

All doctors told me the same thing: I had to do yoga, I had to meditate and relax, I had to take a few pills for pain because of IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) and just... Try to eat. That simple.

Can you imagine it? I never thought of just trying to eat!

(read it with sarcasm)

Now, I've always been the "I never give up and I do what I set out to do even if the whole world is against me" person in my house. But I got to a point I sometimes can't even get up from bed - I have no energy.

Just imagine how mad, confused, sad and exhasperated I got the first time I realized I couldn't get up from kneelling on the floor without help. I barely have the strength to walk up a hill - and that comes from someone who spent more than 12 years doing sports, dancing, swimming, tennis, running, strength training, HIIT, cardio, fighting and such on a weekly/daily basis.

Every time I have to call my mother to help me get up from kneeling/leaning down I feel like... Well, I feel like if I was Vergil from DMC, I wouldn't even think about using the Yamato to save my crumbling ass. I'd do it, no matter the consequences.

My mom found a 7th doctor earlier this year and I was so tired. I told her I didn't want doctors anymore - I was ok with being sick for the rest of my life, even if I didn't know how long that would be in that condition. I gave up on hope, on doctors, on medicine, everything.

So she dragged my ass to the doctor's office.

More thousands of exams. MRIs, blood tests, feeling miserable, invasive exams... Nothing new. And the more time passed, the weaker I got.

And then, after 4 years struggling with this mysterious health issue, my doctor got 2 diagnosis: SIBO and Primary Sclerosing Colangitis.

For SIBO, it was more of a try really rather than a certainty - but I got the reactions from the tests, even if they were negative (there are 2 types of SIBO, but in my country we only have 1 type of test). I took an antibiotic and lo and behold, my quality of life improved drastically.

I wasn't fully cured, but hey, I could eat soup! That was a huge improvement for someone living literally of just bread and tea for more than a year.

For Primary Sclerosing Colangitis, my doctor started asking some pretty expensive and obscure exams regarding the liver (you guessed it, my sister has to pay for everything and I never felt so useless in my life) because one of my blood tests always came back with a huge alteration and everyone dismissed as "something normal to me".

Again. I had been to 6 doctors. And all of them thought it was because I drank or used drugs, even though I could barely eat food.

So, after two MRIs, Primary Sclerosing Colangitis. That means the bile ducts to my liver, internal and external, are slowly closing, slowly fading away, until one day they won't be there anymore and I'll have a cirrhosis, needing a liver transplant to stay alive.

There is no cure and no treatment. It's a super rare disease and guess I was chosen by the gods to carry it. Now, the catch is, there are people who don't develop it quickly and live their whole lives without getting to a bad stage and there are people who live three years and have to go over two or more transplants. There's no way to tell how mine is going to develop.

Needless to say, it's a lot to deal with. Really a lot. Suddenly I'm 28 years old and I have to start thinking about life insurance, health plans that cover transplants, retirement, disability retirement, how to deal with friendships, how to get into relationships with something like this, if I'll be able to have kids, how long I'm going to live and what do I want to do before I die.

I started taking a medication that isn't protocol but has good results in holding back the disease, and thankfully my most recent blood tests have already drastically changed. From April to now, August, my liver enzymes are doing a lot better.

And then I went to a clinical nutritionist who has asked me another exam and finally my final diagnosis is Dysbiosis! Basically, my gut bacteria is all wrong and making me sick with everything, even if I don't have any kind of food allergies (trust me, I tested it too).

I just started a new diet with lots of suplements and medications from both doctors and it's the first time in 3 years I'm able to eat 3 meals a day, consisting of proper food: soup, chicken, fruits, vegetables, yogurts, cookies, teas, mug cakes... A whole bunch of things I didn't even remember how they tasted like.

Of course, for a month I'll have to eat it all in very small quantities and cannot eat gluten, lactose or sugar (or at least keep a very low amount of sugar in my diet). My parents managed to recently get their retirement and, even if it is kinda low and not at all what we were expecting, it's already helping - as I'm not being able to help anymore.

(That scene from Sandman where Morpheus just got back from the waking world and is trying to muster all his strength to put everything back into place but then he falls on the ground, tired, broken, beaten down by 100 years of abuse in the hands of his captors? The way his eyes were glistening with tears of anger and despair? Not knowing who he is without his tools? Yeah. I felt that.)

Weirdly enough, it's the first time in 4 years I'm feeling a slight sliver of hope - I'm showing some improvement, I have a proper diagnosis I can shove in the face of everyone who had ever told me I was just a brat who didn't want to eat, I finally have a light regarding my health. I have a prospect that at least I can get better and fight my chronic illness until the Fates decide it's my time to go.

If it wasn't for my mother, though, I'd have given up. Honestly. She kept trying, she kept dragging me around. She's still doing it, helping me with all the implications of having a chronic illness that I know not how it will develop in the future.

So, Polaris, what's the moral of the story?

As bitter and gloomy as I am, the moral is: don't give up. Don't EVER give up. I know how it is like to have people look at you, doctors even, as if you're crazy, as if you're just a little brat who's throwing a tantrum, as if you're not making enough effort to heal yourself. I know how it is to feel hopeless, to feel like there's no perspective of ever getting back to be a healthy person or at least find the proper medication to help you with your struggles.

But don't give up. Even if you're feeling like you're dragging your crumbling body around, don't give up. It may seem stupid, but seeing V and Vergil in DMC5 always gave me some kind of "C'mon, I can't let go now, I have to keep trying. At least one more time." and maybe you can find something that gives you motivation too - but keep going.

It might take a lot of time, but you will find a doctor who will know what kind of problem you have and help you. In the end, with the Colangitis, my doctor accidentally found it and I'm being able to take the meds to hold it back a lot earlier than many people - and that might be something that will help me in the long run. Weirdly, it was good that we stumbled on it so soon, not when my liver is already failing. Again, it took me 7 doctors, but he did what no one could do before. Maybe you're in the brink of finding your doctor as well. So don't give up know.

That's why sometimes I'm absent for weeks or even a month - my health isn't always at its best and I'm always having to do lots and lots of medical checks to keep track of it. That's why sometimes it takes me a long while to reply my messages - but I can assure you all, this blog and the Shall Never Surrender Project is something so dear to me. I'm feeling useful again and I have only to thank you for being here with me and reading what I have to say.

Is this a huge TEDtalk? Oh yes. Apologies for making it so long, but we are long and complex stories anyway. I just thought this might help someone who's going through some existential crisis while battling their health issues. Or other issues too.

My new meds have literally just arrived and honestly people, I promised my gods I'd start some competitive sport if I get better this time. If all goes well, hopefully you'll be able to see me competing on archery or something of that kind next year ;)

That's a nice perspective to have. Don't forget yours. And keep going, no matter what.

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growandrecover · 1 year

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hi!!! i find your acc super helpful usually & i wondered if u could give any advice? i'm not diagnosed with anything so i'm hesitant to say i have an ed, but i have a lot of food-related anxiety and eating in front of people esp. when it's eating as a social activity like going out with friends for coffee makes me so nervous and i overthink everything about what & how i'm eating. i just find needing food embarrassing for some reason? it makes school quite hard since i don't feel at ease enough to eat there so by the end of the day i can't concentrate and i get headaches. do you have any advice for this situation? sorry for long ask & feel free to ignore!!

Hey, anon! No need to apologize, thank you for the ask! ♡

I've dealt with the exact same thing. I handled it just like you did, by choosing not to eat, which gave me the same outcome. It was a few years before my ed, but oddly enough, people asked me all the time if I had one. (Btw I'm not saying you don't have an ed, I'm not a professional)

Here are a few things that helped me:

Try to rationalize the situation to the best of your ability. If you're in a situation where everyone else is eating (like being out with your friends, sitting at lunch if you're in school, or your break if you work), take a quick look around you and see what everyone else is doing. Everyone is doing their own thing. If you're out with your friends, chances are, they're eating. I know rationalizing anxiety/an ed is difficult, but if you're in a public place, or just in a room where there's only one other person eating, chances are, people aren't watching you eat. Something that helped me a lot was to think about the people I saw in public. Was I watching them eat/walk/sit/talk/etc? No, I'm focused on whatever it is I'm doing. Now, your friends might be watching you, but not for the reasons you think. If they're good friends, they won't be judging you for what/how you're eating.

Find a few foods you feel comfortable eating in front of others. When I was in my freshman year of high school, I was in the same situation you are, and only ate one specific food at lunch because I was extremely anxious about how people might perceive me. But, at least I was eating, and it got me through the day. If you think you'll be able to do this one, please pick something that will give you energy and sustain you throughout your day.

You need food. Everyone does. Every living thing needs some kind of sustenance to stay alive, and you are no different. No one is judging you for eating, I can promise you that. I know this anxiety will tell you that's not true, but as someone who was so plagued by anxiety she had to leave the public school system, let me assure you that your anxiety is not telling the truth. If it would be easier to do something like drink a protein shake, then maybe try that out.

Try to ground yourself in the moments of anxiety. Feel the chair you're sitting on, ask yourself what you can smell and what you can see. For example, if you're out with your friends, try to keep in mind that you're safe with them. They're your friends for a reason, and they won't judge you for eating alongside them, or eating period. If you're at school or work, remind yourself that everyone else in the room with you has eaten at some point in the day, if they're not eating right there in front of you. You are safe to eat.

I'm not trying to enable your worries when I say this, but if this is the only thing on the list that will help you, then I don't want to leave it out. If nothing else worked, maybe you could try eating somewhere in private. I don't mean when you're out with your friends, but if you're in school or something, and you don't want to eat in the cafeteria, maybe you could find a quiet spot to eat. When I was in 8th grade, I got permission to eat in the library with a few friends of mine who already ate in there due to my mass amounts of anxiety, which helped immensely, because I was able to eat. For this piece, I'm prioritizing the fact that you need to eat, and if this will help you eat, then so be it.

If you can, you might want to reach out to a professional. I don't mean to discourage you, but my anxiety only got better once I got help/medication. However, if you put me back in the school cafeteria, I'd go straight to square one again. If you can't get help, I suggest you do some research on anxiety/eds and see if that could help you or give you some tips on what you could do.

I really hope this helped, I hopefully things get better for you! If you feel like this didn't answer your question, or if you want to talk, please feel free to send me another ask or a dm! Lots of love to you, anon <3

#asks

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fiadorable · 2 years

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you guys, I have had a cosmically, comically bad day today. writing therapy and gif storyboard below the cut 🤪

forgot two things i needed for work at home because the child had a dentist appointment and all of my energy was focused on her and her dad leaving for the appointment on time with the paperwork I stayed up late to fill out

bad traffic doubled my commute time

i am already chronically late

got to work with my breakfast, but my coworkers descended upon me and wanted to chit-chat (the worst of all morning afflictions) for so long that my breakfast was inedible by the time they released me

coworkers also make a (good-natured? on a better day?) joke about me being a perfectionist that kind of sounds like a compliment on paper but when they say it it sounds like a bad thing? am i where fun goes to die?

breakfast was going to be a turkey lunchable and i just realized it's still in my work bag, unopened 🤢

meeting that my manager always schedules during my normal lunch time ran extra long so it was extra long before I got actual food in me today

called partner while grabbing lunch and turns out the child needs a tooth pulled + orthodontics to compensate for the hole in her head

cue crippling parental guilt for the rest of my lunch break and afternoon

back to work where i am tying up the loose ends of a large solo project that i get to present to two department heads next week that is absurdly mind numbing (it's a flow chart and all.the.arrowheads.must.be.the.same)

dammit my coworkers were right about me

drive to pick up the child

child is upset that I forgot her after school snack and pretends to cry like a baby the entire way home

i am remarkably patient with this behavior given that i have already overdrawn from my account at the Bank of Fucks

partner has picked up tacos and burritos for dinner and i inhale everything and then excuse myself to peace the fuck out on my bed until it's storytime for the child

it's storytime and the child shows off her new skill: opening child proof medicine bottles 🙃

i have aged approximately five.7 years with this new knowledge

settled in bed with the laptop to do some writing after my part of the child's bedtime is over - promptly spill drink all over sheets and self

i missed the laptop thank fuck

dump baking soda onto the mattress to soak up all the cola before it gets gross

put all sheets in the wash because there are none clean at all anywhere in the house none

actually remember to switch the load on time

discover i. have. washed. a. USED. PULLUP. with. my. sheets. 💀

all. of. the. sheets.

it is 10pm and I am le tired

my washing machine is now filled with tiny balls of diaper gel fibers (parents, you know) and they are also clinging to every inch of my sheets 🌨️

grab partner and debate who gets to scoop all the diaper gel balls out of the washing machine and who gets to shake all of the laundry out into the child's bathtub to get rid of the detritus on the fabric

I win the bathtub because he has longer arms that can reach the bottom of the washing machine better not because he wins the debate

now washing all my sheets AGAIN at quarter to 11pm just to make sure everything is gone

type this out for therapy

oh god i forgot to clean out the bathtub

exec immediate exit();

gif storyboard of my day in no particular order as promised

#i promise i don't normally whinge like this #it's just been a hell of a week #don't tell me it's only tuesday #parenting #writing as therapy #ignore me

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khodorkovskaya · 2 years

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05.09.22

as ive mentioned many times, every time i hang out with my friends i have a mini existential crisis. idk i feel like im either autistic, or immature, or pretentious, or too scared to face the real world. bc i don’t understand how people live their lives the way the do and how im supposed to function.

it hit me when i was with my two best friends yesterday and okay, best friend X lives and works in london, she has an office job. and it sounds like the most depressing thing in the world to me. bc she’s there from 9 to 5 (oftentimes more bc they never meet their deadlines), she doesn’t get payed a lot (which is fine bc her parents pay for rent so she’s not struggling or anything) and she says that every night she smokes/drinks with her boyfriend. the job itself sounds like hell, london is a shitty place to live, etc. etc. and yet she’s convinced that it’s the best place to be and that it’s fine.

and i don’t get it bc most of my former classmates moved to london. and now they have shitty jobs where all they do is write emails all day. and they’re all on drugs, no exception. and what’s the point of living like this? it’s obviously so unbearable since they all engage in some kind of unhealthy mechanisms (drinking wine and smoking weed every day, drugs on the weekends,...). and yet it’s seen as the norm.

and i really really don’t get it. they all went to prestigious universities, most of them are actually talented and capable people. yet now they work for soulless big companies in a soulless city. and sure, writing emails all day is annoying and repetitive, so you’re only being robbed of your time and not your energy. but even for those who have a kind of special skill, why would you work for a company that doesn’t care about you? and people overwork, stay longer hours, take shorter lunch breaks for what? for who? to afford more alcohol and drugs? your work doesn’t even belong to you! and no one seems bothered by that!

and then best friend Y said that he can’t wait to be done with his masters and start making big money. not to give too much away but his area is gonna be like finance/tech/trading etc. so imagine doing that for some big company every day. it’s so impersonal. and yet that doesn’t seem to bother him at all, he’s just excited to make money.

like i really don’t understand how people live like this. don’t you want to do something that belongs to you? are you not gonna feel robbed, spending 9 hours per day doing something for someone else? and, sure, money is necessary, but working at a soulless office sounds like torture. won’t it feel like you’re wasting your life away?

like, really, i don’t understand any of it. maybe it’s my post-soviet background idk. my parents never worked in the traditional sense of the word. they did some stuff in the 90s and then my dad started doing shady business in montenegro. and my mum and my step dad have their own second hand store and also an IT business. no one in my entourage had ever worked for a company. and it makes more sense to me. you do your own thing, you earn money, you own the things you do.

but if i want to live like this, what the hell am i studying for? i picked the most employable major, people keep telling me that i have the chance of having a great career bc i speak 4 languages, have a lot of soft skills yadayada... but i just can’t see the purpose of having a traditional career. like what’s the point? im the only one in my circle who doesn’t do drugs/smoke and i don’t want to. ive already struggled with depression bc i felt like i wasn’t in control of my life and i don’t want to find myself in a situation where i literally have no control over my work. but i can’t just do business. that would be a waste of potential, right? my mum didn’t come all the way here for me to be a store manager. i feel like i have to work at a bank or something.

i don’t know. as i have said, either i have something missing in my brain that’s supposed to make you understand how the world works. or im in my “im 14 and this is deep” phase and none of what i said holds any value bc it’s just immature. or im too arrogant and think im too good for society and feel special. or im super insecure and too scared to leave my cocoon and enter the adult world. i don’t know. but it’s all making me anxious.

#my bf said that it's kill or be killed basically #and with my upbringing and education i have the potential to be on top of the hirarchy #and i should strive to be on top to ensure a better future for my future children #bc if not i will be crushed by society and remain lower class for the rest of my life #and not be able to afford toys or guitar lessons for my kids #which i understand #but i don't know how to motivate myself to be normal #september #septembernew

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nicetrynicetry · 7 months

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Thursday aka the concert, and I wake knowing I did not sleep enough, but also that I must get up. I am in my least favourite city, awake at my least favourite time, feelings my least favourite feelings. I think of what the osteopath said to me last week: "but don't worry, it's all your fault". I debate myself briefly on how late the lead singer of a band can safely arrive to a soundcheck before being accused of diva behaviour, and in the end it's 10 minutes late. So at 9.10am I see my band plugging various wires into various amps and pedals on a stage set up directly below my sizeable museum show. Modest use of a smoke machine from our short rehearsal will later fill the porcelain painting room above, likely causing some viewers to think this is part of The Work

Aside from an issue with my drummer's monitor cutting out when he hits the snare too hard, and the museum curator refusing eye contact with me as she steps into an elevator, things go smoothly. I almost entertain the idea of the concert going well, then swiftly dismiss this as decadent, go back to pained anxiety. C was at one point set to perform with us on Soup; but then showed signs of uncharacteristic shyness the previous day, so I left it open to her. An hour after our soundcheck ends as the museum opens at 11am, C texts to say she slept through 3 hours of her alarm, which solves the problem. In a way I'm relieved - there are already far too many variables determining the show's quality, and handing a mic to a non-musician on a high adderall dose is not a terribly welcome addition. I do not reply to C's apology text and a subsequent request to spend the day together, but only because I would rather spend the day with G, who remains the best city companion after 8 years of friendship. Plus my instincts tell me, perhaps wrongly but perhaps correctly, that G and C would not get along. I tuck my phone away for the next 5 hours, happily wandering with G in and out of galleries in surprisingly clement weather. I had been told by the internet that it would rain and so I carry an umbrella which, according to superstition, is the exact reason it refuses to rain. We run into people we know and some who we met together during mine and G’s heyday of studio sharing, we eat lunch in the sun and see Lee Lozano and Mike Kelley shows and drink tea in the shade. I finally check my phone at 4pm, a Twitter link from a friend telling me that a member of the K Pop band BTS went to my show in Seoul and that this has caused a flurry of investigation into me by a certain corner of social media. The last few hours before I go on stage share a dismal, trapped energy with that of being 8 hours in to a 12 hour flight. K told me the previous evening that it is good to inflict some nerves on myself every now and then. Also I am once again not doing stand-up comedy, and if I fail it will once again look like institutional critique

I leave G on rue de something and go to meditate and shower and regret my outfit at the hotel, beating back the “flight” side of a fight or flight impulse. When I get to the museum I am approached by E, a legendary painter who wants to trade a 5-figure work of mine for her 6 to 7-figure work. Her much-younger male companion is uncomfortably handsome, reminiscent of R without the sadness in his eyes. She reaches out her hand for me to shake and it’s the deformed one I have seen in pictures, a single finger and thumb and a palm. What a power move, to lead with this hand. Talking with her nervously distracts me for enough time that only 15 minutes are left before I perform, a stretch of time in which C finds me and we smoke, her boyfriend sitting opposite us quietly. She whispers to me “I want to break up with him so badly. Do you think I should do it before I go to Vienna?” I tell her I don’t know, and mention that her gallerist wrote me to say she bought my work at auction. Cool! How much did she pay? C asks. I say half a million dollars. C says cool again. Tactless in hindsight, but in the end this will not be what pisses C off the most over the course of the evening. No, it’ll be my small spiel as I introduce the song we made together, wresting the microphone from its stand to sit down to sing. “I wrote this song about C’s relationship at the time”, I say, “and I’m sorry?”

I play, and dissociate. But not enough not to remember that I play 4 chords wrong during Monica Lewinsky, and that my bottom E string, tuned too hastily with a silent audience watching, was flat for Trash. Though perhaps this was important, to get mistakes out of the way and learn that I don’t perish because of them. The music is warmly received, and I quickly cook up a conspiracy theory about V texting everybody we know who is present to pretend it was good and spare my feelings, and thus I’m being lied to. This will nag at me for 24 hours after the fact, but relief trumps it all. We walk to dinner and it takes me a minute to notice C is stony faced and refusing to make eye contact with me, not participating in her and D and my in-jokes. She flees to another table upstairs at dinner and takes an hour to come down to her seat next to me. Eventually I ask her what the deal is and she lets me know I humiliated her on stage. Did I? I ask. Yes, she says, I think I had a panic attack. Apparently my revealing that the song Soup was written about her relationship was a step too far for C, though I had assumed that explaining why we make what we make as artists is all we can ever do. Plus I struggle to understand why this is unflattering, why it might jeopardise C’s career or reputation, or why someone so exhibitionist might be so hurt. And yes, the song features the lyric “I’m a fool”, but this is a common trope in songwriting. I doubt myself for the remainder of the meal, not noticing how my night of accomplishment has suddenly become about C’s insecurities until a little later. C tells me she is over it, but that I DID embarrass her, then urges me to leave dinner early to come to a late night screening of her film. “It’s in David Lynch’s nightclub”, she says. I tell her I’m going to stay at the event thrown in my honour a little longer. I find V in a throng of curators and air my concerns, and V gives me a much-needed reality check. We assemble a group and go to a party where I forget my indignation

I collapse onto the hotel bed at 3am, and think. I don’t know if C’s issue is really about what I say when I’m playing live music, I suspect it’s about my advancing career, and her gallerist buying my work, and her lawsuit against a disabled dog, and her campaign to ruin the life of a librarian who fucked her ex-boyfriend, and the IRS. I just took the fall for it on this occasion, and I don’t need the hassle when I’m trying to feel good, for once, for just one night

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anonymousjos · 11 months

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Nine & 3/4:

(Sorry, I couldn’t help myself when I realized I was adding in an entry between nine and ten!)

Full discloser, I did not complete a reading/listening today. Last night was my sleep study and I have been a zombie since 4:40 when she woke me up this morning. Seriously, when I got to my car and tried to find a Starbucks the app said the earliest one didn’t even open until 5:00! I was awake before the coffee! I dreamed that my husband and baby came with me to the sleep study and they woke me up early in the night and told me that I did not have sleep apnea but my husband does (which we already know) and his was really bad and he stopped breathing every 20 mins so they put him on the machine and then they told me my baby was fine and to give her some milk. Yall- my brain! I guess it stresses my sub-conscious out that he does not use his C-pap. Anyway, the sleep study was too far from home for me to go home so I got ready and went on to work. I slept in the parking lot for an hour before work. And look at the adorable work cat I got to see!

Then, when I went to get out of the car the thigh ripped through my jeans! So now I have gross globs of glue in my hair and ripped jeans! Is it Monday again? Anyway again, I zombied through to lunch and couldn’t decide if I should go take another nap in my car, or eat, or play on my phone, skipping lunch was not an option or I was going to end up face down on my keyboard. I made it to my car and it was so warm and sunny and beautiful outside I decided to go for a drive. I work in a town an hour from where I live so when I first started at this job I would explore a lot on my lunch break. Now, most days I either work though lunch or only take a break out of a nap necessity (hence the sleep study). I’ll probably regret not napping today but hey I picked up an energy drink, maybe it’ll get me through. Anyway again again, I know there is a lake near hear because I pass a spill off on my way in every day. I have attempted to find it before with no luck. Today I broke down and GPS’ed it and I am so glad I did. I went to the first place on the GPS and it was incredible! The cypress trees were so beautiful! There was an amazing dock and I got to see a snake, a dead turtle, a dead fish, tons of baby turtles, regular turtles and baby fish! I love, love, love to be outside in nature! This is one of my favorite things to do in life, go explore new places. I so wish I had had my camera! I did get a few cell phone shots though.

*Sigh… paradise*

*Adorable baby turtle!*

*Heebie-jeebies*

I absolutely cannot wait to bring my husband back here! Our weekend is so jam packed this week but I really want to find time to bring him. I would love to find a baby sitter and sneak off on a date but that NEVER happens!

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myfitnessblog0086 · 1 year

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I alway follow these rules:

1. Keep it fun. Have fun with your workouts.

2. Weight fluctuates. Obsessing over pushing yourself to your physical limits to loose weight will stress you out more. Accept you are NOT going to be just loosing from week to week.

3. Believe in yourself. Be kind to yourself. You are trying your best and you are already your own worst and most critical enemy. Don’t let others join in.

4. I take a break from my regular food once a week. One meal, whatever I want.

Most Importantly! Don’t ignore that craving. When you do give into a craving, have a fourth of it. Have a fourth of that double cheese burger. Have a fourth of those fries. Take the rest home and do it until it’s gone.

This is my most CURRENT diet. It is VERY VERY difficult. It’s like eating a box of Colon Blow. I am never hungry if I eat when I want. However, hunger attacks can be very strong if you get caught without food. This works for me, but again, I am sharing my experience. Not recommending anything.

My fitness, my body is NOT at beginner level. I can handle it, the average Joe off the street might not.

I focus on 3 things. Calories, Fiber and Protien. This Diets is vegetarian because of the Ghee and the Chopped Salad kits have cheese. The calories are about 2000 for everything here. (Minus the eggs and fish add ins.)

Calories are 2000 or less. Usually 2000 with a double oatmeal for lunch and then dinner.

Fiber ranges from anywhere between 50 to 75 grams.

Protein is a SOLD 130 grams or higher. Appropriate for my weight. My weight is NOT appropriate for my height, but I am already wearing work clothes that were TOO TIGHT last year, with a lot looser fit.

I put in the exercise and diet work.

I have a Metabolizing Energy Drink. Aloe Based Tea with added Nootropics and Antioxidants. Some Apple Cider Vinegar too. The recipe only has about five ingredients. I add the apple cider vinegar. Will share the recipe at a later time. I got it from a licensed and accredited Herbalist.

I have coffee. Mostly I have what's on hand which is Eight O Clock. A teaspoon of Brain Octane and a teaspoon of Ghee.

49 grams of Orgain Organic Plant Based Protein with 26 gram PB FIT.

Another helping of Orgain and PB FIT with 4 tea spoons of Metamucil and Greens powder. Sometimes I will have 2 hard boiled eggs.

Lunch is a chopped Salad kit, about 3 cups or the WHOLE bag. Sometimes I have canned kipper snacks with it. If I don’t have salad, I make the Oatmeal recipe below.

Dinner is Oatmeal. 1 cup oats, 1 Teaspoon Chia, PB FIT, Stevia, Tart Cherry, Bananas and Strawberries. I use about 7 cups of water, BUT I will sometimes add a cup of Silk Cashew and Almond milk for creamy oats.

All of that is about 2,000 calories and I consistently reach about 4000 calories burned a day. Sometimes up to 6000.

I start with 500 jumps of my rope and move into Fitness Boxing. About 30 mins Highest speed and difficulty.

I rest 15 mins and do another 30 mins, making sure I reach 3,000 punches a day.

I walk as much as I can. Sometimes run. I box every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Walking and lifting weights Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Sunday is a day of rest. Certainly get enough jumping and movement as I praise the Lord at the Pentecostal Church.

#boxing #fit #fitness #fitspiration #fitness boxing #nintendo switch #nintendo #low cal diet #diet plan #diet and nutrition #need to lose more weight #best way to lose weight #weight loss

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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 2 years

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Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (112): Sun 3rd Jul 2022

This morning one of the managers said that my stow times had been really good lately and asked if I would ever be interested in learning an additional job prospect. To be honest I'm happy doing the stow right now but I told him I might be open to doing other stuff once I've gotten this process down. My sister's boyfriend also works here and says that he was only there for just over a month before he was offered a team leader position. If I were to be offered a team leader position I wouldn't accept it. I wouldn't want to be in a position where I have to bollock people for falling short of company expectations. I'm the kind of guy who's more valuable as a worker than a boss because as a boss you have to be willing to be confrontational at certain points and I just don't have that ability in me. On my lunch break there was a guy sitting next to me talking to his mate on the phone saying he wanted to leave the company because it was shit. He was saying that the wages are terrible which I haven't found to be the case and that you have to do everything you're told in order to get by in the company which I think shows that he doesn't quite understand how employment works because that's the same process for every job. You'll very rarely see a job advert that says "No rules, do whatever the fuck you want".

The first week of my diet is over and I already feel much better. Having a glass of water instead of an energy drink any time I feel stressed is much more beneficial because while the energy drink might give you a quick birst of energy it will only be temporary and you'll feel like shit afterwards but keeping hydrated throughout the day means you'll be more productive. Today was my reward day so I had a veggie breakfast and Teriyaki noodles for lunch. I didn't realize that Mam was making lunch for both of us today because nowadays I just fix my own food when I get in but she'd prepared a vegetarian Panaculty. The rule I'd set for myself was that I could only have a cooked breakfast & dinner once a week but since Mam had already cooked this and it wouldn't keep until next Sunday I decided I was going to have to eat it. With regards to the actual weight loss the bathroom scale is being a bit of a cunt. After eating two meals today the scale was saying my weight was exactly the same a before and throughout the week on days where I've had practically nothing to eat it's said that I've either lost no weight or in some circumstances gone back up to over 14 stone which is clearly bullshit. I'm going to have to start running again to ensure that the weight starts coming down because to starve yourself of food for a week for little or no result is a real kick in the dick. I booked a ticket for my second show of this year's Edinburgh Fringe "Death of a Disco Dancer". The plot according to the blurb is that during a school reunion four friends find themselves in a nightmarish dimension and struggle to find their way out as secrets from the past threaten to trap them forever. This sounds really good and I love thrillers with a slight surreal twist. Although I'm happy to go to see plays that have hints of surrealism to them I'm not going to see any experimental, artsy stuff this year because last year I took a punt on the play "It All" where a barefooted bald guy in dungarees recited existential poetry for an hour almost killed me.

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outerbankies · 3 years

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You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love

an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!

—

new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1

warnings: underage drinking

“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”

Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.

Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”

“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.

“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”

Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”

He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.

But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.

The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.

Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”

“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”

“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”

“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”

“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”

Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.

“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”

Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”

“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“

Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”

“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.

“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.

Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”

You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.

The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”

Rafe glares at him.

“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.

“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”

“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.

“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”

He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”

—

Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.

Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.

And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.

“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.

“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”

“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.

“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”

“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”

“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“Thought I might what?”

“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.

“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.

Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”

“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.

—

“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”

You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”

“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”

“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”

Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”

You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”

“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.

“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.

“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.

“Right, sorry,” you say.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”

You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”

He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”

You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”

—

“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.

“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.

He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.

Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.

And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.

You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.

But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.

“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.

All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.

Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”

—

Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.

“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”

“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.

“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.

He hands him a crisp hundred.

The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”

And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.

You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.

Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?

But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.

And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.

Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.

Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.

Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.

The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.

Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.

“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”

You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”

“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.

“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?

“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”

“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.

“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”

“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.

And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.

“I know I'm gonna miss you.”

—

@moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @pogueslandia @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @rafeseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46 @cameronsrafe @theepoguelandia @judayyyw @irlpadfoot @synonymforlame @tinawhynot @mildkleptomaniac @ilymarkchan @sofiatheseconf @hockeyshmockey @supersouthy @coffeeandcrimeshows @emptyloverofmine @infinitleyethereal @nerdypartytrashpsychic @mrs-cameron @tcmhollnd @nicavass @sakikos @catonthesideoftheroad @jemimah-b99 @serrendipiity @depressinq @svechnibrock @julianakawaja @ctrlcherries @lostaurorax @wildflower98 @babygirl2022 @lieswithoutfairytales @painlesslies @messagesinthesky @orrsoared @destourtereaux @sammywilscn @tylernagle @anonymousobxfan @lilacsandwhiskey @raphaelcameron @mardema @princesspogue @alwaysclassyeagle @brittlehe-art @drewswrld

529 notes · View notes

jkstompers · 3 years

Text

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date.

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken.

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date.

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you.

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her.

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing,

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover?

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :)

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days?

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to.

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you.

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something.

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind.

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out.

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying.

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous.

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly.

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him.

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it.

feeling okay?

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk.

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening.

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :(

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you.

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen.

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love.

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now.

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight?

check: ◯ yes ◯ no

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never.

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second.

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!”

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again.

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?”

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?”

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing.

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs.

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?”

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot.

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.”

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date.

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair.

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you.

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you.

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7.

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!!

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay!

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat.

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment.

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you.

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass.

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again.

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take.

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you.

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat.

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.”

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless.

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous.��

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold.

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.”

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in.

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand.

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face.

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table.

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order.

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around.

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!”

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.”

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive.

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere.

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully.

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you.

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america?

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.”

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile.

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same.

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain.

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction.

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!”

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him.

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love.

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it.

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside.

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.”

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did.

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips.

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind.

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant.

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you.

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste.

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was.

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this.

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.”

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up.

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel.

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this?

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.”

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.”

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?”

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.”

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest.

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb.

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?”

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more.

“can i kiss you again, kookie?”

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you.

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips.

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.”

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words.

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?”

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?”

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true.

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice.

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away.

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently.

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark.

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again.

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves.

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.”

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good.

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers.

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.”

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific.

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.”

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ”

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more.

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers.

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears.

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper. you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes.

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.”

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it.

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely.

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax.

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual.

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.”

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers.

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick.

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows.

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly.

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.”

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.”

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight.

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans.

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.”

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling. the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?”

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?”

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh.

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue.

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow.

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?”

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues.

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex.

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles.

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy.

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight.

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay?

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :)

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :)

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams!

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

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compassionatereminders · 3 years

Text

Dealing With Executive Dysfunction - A Summary

(The full post with elaborate explanations can be found here.)

Being a responsible adult doesn’t have to mean doing things perfectly - it means doing what you realistically can. Can’t eat 7 fresh veggies and fruits a day? Buy some veggie juice or a smoothie and chug that. Can’t make a proper, healthy meal? Add some extra protein to your instant noodles. Can’t do the dishes? Buy some paper plates. Don’t worry about doing things “the right way”, just do what works.

It’s not cheating to do something the easy way. If there’s an easy or more manageable solution available, use it. Even if some people think it’s lazy. Don’t worry about that. Just focus on finding the methods of doing things which make life easier for you.

Fuck what you’re “supposed” to do. Yes, ideally you shouldn’t run the dishwasher twice, but if cleansing the dishes by hand is not an option and that’s the only way you can get clean dishes, do it anyways! When you’re in a really bad place mentally, fuck the rules. Do what you need to do to get shit done, even if it’s not how you’re supposed to do it.

Do stuff while you’re waiting to do other stuff. We spend a lot of time waiting, so spend the time you’d normally just waste getting some chores done. Collect the trash while your roommate is in the bathroom or wipe down the kitchen counters while you’re making coffee. You can even turn it into a game! How many dishes can you clean before the potatoes are boiling? How much trash can you collect and throw out before your load of laundry is done?

You don’t have to do everything at once. Don’t wait for the day where you’re up for cleaning the entire house cause then you’ll be waiting for ages. You can wipe down one counter and call it a day. You can put away a couple things and leave the rest. You can do one small chore and let that be it. You don’t have to choose between doing everything and doing nothing. Any progress is worthwhile.

Let go of the idea that something has to become a permanent habit to have any value. Doing a certain sport for a month is still healthy even if you then move on to something else. Exploring a new hobby for a while and then moving on to other stuff will always teach you something. What’s good for you today will not necessarily be what’s good for you tomorrow.

Don’t worry about the entire task. Just focus on the first step. Don’t worry about brushing your teeth - just get your toothbrush wet and put tooth paste on it. Don’t worry about writing the essay - just look at the assignment and open a document. Don’t worry about going to the store - just put on your coat and your shoes. Starting a task is a lot easier if you only focus on the step right in front of you.

Imagine that your body is a pet/animal you have to care for. Feed and hydrate yourself, keep yourself and your environment clean, make sure you don’t get under or overstimulated, allow yourself time to rest and relax, find ways to enrich your life (like socializing, media or hobbies) - and do your best to make sure you’re healthy and happy, even though you never actually signed up for being your own zookeeper.

Just because you can’t do it perfectly doesn’t mean you should stop trying. Packing lunch a couple times a week is better than never packing lunches. Journaling or making art once a month is better than never doing anything creative. Exercising every once in a while when you have the energy is better than never exercising. You don’t have to do something every single day for it to be important and helpful.

Put on a professional persona when it’s necessary. Try to separate the anxious and dysfunctional you from the Student You who’s sending that important email or the Client You who’s making that phone call or the Customer You who isn’t afraid to ask for help. It might feel like you’re performing a role, but to be honest, most of us do at times.

When you’re doing chores, act like you’re filming a tutorial. Narrate what you’re doing like someone’s watching. That might make it easier to maintain focus and to keep track of the various steps.

You don’t have to do anything perfectly. Wiping yourself off with some baby wipes beats not doing anything about your personal hygiene. Eating a protein bar beats not eating. Using mouthwash beats neglecting dental hygiene completely. Going for a quick walk beats not moving. It doesn’t have to be perfect to count and make a difference.

Make something you know you have to do the trigger for you to start doing something else. Tell yourself “next time I get up to pee I’ll take out the trash” or “when I get up to get something to drink next I’ll make lunch.” If you HAVE to get up anyways, you might as well.

Assign yourself a deadline. Tell yourself “once this video is over, I’ll do the dishes” or “once this alarm rings, I’ll do my laundry.”

If you struggle to be compassionate towards yourself, try visualizing your future self as a separate person who you like and want to do favors for. Try to think of your future self as a friend who is separate from your current self and do what you can to make their life easier by doing things like preparing that lunch, doing those chores, taking that shower or making fun plans. I know they’ll be grateful.

Make putting stuff back where it belongs so easy that you “might as well.” Organize your home so that placing stuff where it belongs becomes so easy that you might as well just place it there. For many people that means several laundry baskets, many trash cans and easily accessible and very visible storage options. So if you keep finding things in annoying places, make sure they get an easily accessible home!

Look into why you can’t do something. Is something about the chores you’re struggling to do actually causing you sensory distress and is there something you can do to make it more comfortable? If you hate mint toothpaste, get one that tastes like bubble gum. If old food grosses you out, do the dishes with thick gloves on. If showering makes you feel bad about your body, shower with the lights off. The problem isn’t always about self discipline, and in those cases it’s worth looking into why you’re struggling so much to get certain chores done.

Take care of yourself in order to take care of others ( whether pets or people.) Outside motivation is necessary for many people who struggle with executive dysfunction. For many people getting out of bed is easier when you know someone else is relying on you being somewhat functional. So don’t be afraid to find the motivation to take care of yourself in wanting to take care of others.

Make keeping your place clean as easy as possible. Make sure there’s easy one step access to the things you need often. Make sure that the place where a thing is supposed to be is actually within reach of where you use the thing. Make sure everything has a an easily accessible place to go, even if that means several laundry baskets and several trash cans. Examine what’s messing up your place and find a home for it where you’re likely to actually place it on a regular basis.

Choose one very specific thing to work on - like the bathroom sink or the oven or your desk. If you suffer from executive dysfunction you’ll likely be distracted, but having one specific focus point you can keep returning to will mean that in between getting distracted, you can return to your chosen project and get some shit done.

When something feels overwhelming, tell yourself to “just show up” and that you “won’t have to stay the whole time if it’s horrible.” Cause odds are that once you’ve pushed past your initial mental block, you’re likely to stay and finish what you started.

If you really can’t do something, accept your limits and find a different method. Don’t keep trying to push through via willpower alone. If you need outside accountability to get your shit done, find someone who can hold you accountable. If you know you can’t remember the stuff you’re supposed to remember, make sure to always write things down. If you keep forgetting your meds, set a daily alarm. Don’t keep expecting yourself to be able to do things you always struggle with.

Make your chores into a game. Assign certain chores certain points and make a list of fun rewards you can have once you’ve earned a certain amount of points through doing chores.

If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing poorly. Any amount of effort is better than none, so on days where you can’t do something well, do it anyways! Any amount of progress beats not getting started.

Find a momentum and use it to do that thing you’ve been struggling to start doing. You can’t get yourself together to shower? Well, find something you CAN do - and once you’re already doing something, you might be able to channel said energy into showering.

Take it one step at a time. I know a shower sounds overwhelming, but can you take your clothes off? If yes, can you turn on the shower? If yes, can you stand under the stream? Look who just tricked themselves into doing the thing by breaking it down into manageable chunks!

Don’t just break a task into smaller steps - break it into steps so small you can’t possible get overwhelmed and fuck up. “Clean my room” is far too vague - but “set a timer and collect all the trash you can in 10 minutes” is actually manageable and so is “move all dirty dishes to the kitchen” or “remove and/or sort all clothes laying on the floor.”

Don’t worry about how most people do things - worry about what works for YOU. You constantly lose your key? Make ten copies. You overlook your post it notes? Put something with the important reminder on it in front of the door. Got laundry and trash all over the floor? Get more laundry baskets/trash cans. Coping with executive dysfunction is not about learning to do things the neurotypical way, it’s about finding strategies which actually work for you.

When you’re overwhelmed and struggling, find the easiest and fastest way to get rid of some of the distress. Eat if you’re hungry, sleep if you’re tired, pee if you have to, get that thing you’ve been postponing done if you can. The more stressors you can remove, the better - and it’s okay to start with the smaller ones!

Don’t worry about aesthetics. When you struggle with executive dysfunction, maintaining a picture perfect home is probably unrealistic. So drop that dream and focus on making your space practical and functional. Remove the doors of your kitchen cabinets and closets if that will actually make you put stuff away. Get a paper shredder and a mail sorting station if you got mail and advertisements everywhere. Buy all your socks in one color if you struggle to pair them. There are many ways to make your environment more functional. Explore them instead of just trying and failing to make your home look nice.

Get started on your next task before you take your break. Write that first sentence, make that first sketch, get the vacuum cleaner out of the closet or collect the dishes for washing and THEN have your break. Many people with executive dysfunction struggle to start tasks, so for most of us it’s easier to continue something we’ve already started working on than to begin from scratch.

#kat gets serious #coping #executive dysfunction #disability #mental illness #self care #recovery

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blessedlance · 3 years

Text

pretty baby.

[r18+]

[wc:] 4k

[cw:] sub!atsumu, softdom!reader, femdom, oral (f. receiving), riding, pegging, mommy kink, puppy kink, minor dacryphilia, collar-play, restraints

! haikyuu manga timeskip spoilers. atsumu is 24. !

a/n: oh my god i haven’t written for leisure in literally 10 years i hope this is bearable LOL. @luvsicksubs wrote a lil tidbit about sub!atsumu a while ago and i have not known peace ever since so big thank you to ari for the inspo! pls enjoi :9

Atsumu’s been gone lately. A lot.

Too much.

You know it’s not his fault. The Jackals' practices have been brutal lately. So when Atsumu does eventually trudge his way back to your shared apartment every evening, he can only muster up enough energy to shower and collapse into bed. You’ve had to wake him more than once, chiding him to get up and at least dry his hair before bed.

“You can’t afford to get yourself sick by sleeping with wet hair, ‘Tsumu.” You’d whisper, shaking him gently awake. Usually he’d just groan in response and bury himself further against your body heat beneath the comforter--unwilling to give up even a second of precious, blissful sleep. You’d even gone so far as to physically pull his heavy, six foot athlete’s body out of the bed and into the bathroom to dry it for him once or twice.

It’s for his health, you reason. You can afford to pamper him a little--especially when he’s been working so hard. And the way his body slumps while he sits, his features softening--long eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks as he dozes off into half-sleep at the feel of your fingers tussling his hair with the gentle heat of the blow dryer… He becomes so soft in those moments, like putty in your hands.

It’s dangerous, because it makes you crave the sight of him like this--fragile and reliant on the comfort of your touch--even more.

You sigh. Reminding yourself again, for seemingly the millionth time since this excessive practicing for the championships started,

‘It’s not his fault.’

He’s been good. So, so good. Trying so hard to make sure you know he loves you and he’s sorry. Texting you to check in whenever he has the chance.

> how are you today?

> how’s work going??

> what’s for lunch??? ლ(≧ڡ≦ლ)

Sometimes sending videos of himself and Hinata hashing out new plays (only the ones they’ve mastered, though. You may be intimately familiar with every embarrassing piece of him, but he still wants to try to look cool in front of his girlfriend.)

And it helps. It really does. But you also know the texts are just as much for his own sake as they are for yours. You know how needy Atsumu gets when you two are apart.

You remember the time he’d called you from his hotel room after an away game in Tokyo. How he whined into the phone at the sound of your voice when you whispered.

“Touch yourself for me.”

The way a soft cry escaped him at your command--your name leaving his lips with a breath.

You want to feel him like that again. To see him beneath you, squirming and desperate--begging for you to just touch him, just sit on his face, his cock, anything you want just please--

You abruptly stop your line of thinking--not daring to continue dwelling on this recurring fantasy. Atsumu doesn’t deserve the punishment you crave to dole out on him to relieve this frustration.

… But he might want it.

Championships are tomorrow. Just 24 hours stand between you and the feeling of Atsumu Miya’s taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

You take a breath, summoning the remnants of your willpower.

You could do this. You would make certain that the wait would be worth it.

For both of you.

---

The Black Jackals win their first match because of course they do. Honestly, sometimes you feel a bit bad for the opposing teams. Their skill, their teamwork, their passion, their absolute willpower to win is stifling. Atsumu texts you that they’re going out for celebratory dinner and drinks. Bokuto’s idea. (Obviously). He promises he’ll be home as soon as he can. They’ve all got tomorrow morning off, and a whole day before the next round of matches. Some indulgence is well-deserved.

You type out your reply.

> Take your time and enjoy yourself! You’ve earned it. 💕

Knowing you’ve got at least two hours or more before the boys’ exhaustion ushers them all home, you decide to spend some time... preparing.

You’re reclined on the couch, watching something you can comfortably give your half-assed attention to while scrolling on your phone. You hear the front door unlocking, the handle turning, and your heart leaps into your throat. The thought of finally, finally having Astumu all to yourself makes you absolutely giddy.

You turn expectantly, and can’t help the way your lips curl upward into a smile.

Atsumu pushes the door open and turns toward you, already smiling when he opens his mouth.

“Hey.” You murmur.

“Hey.” He breathes back, and you watch the way his features relax at the sight of you. The way the confident, assiduous Atsumu Miya--a man who wakes up every single day and strives for perfection in everything and every one---melts into something softer.

Something that’s silently begging for you to tear him apart and piece him back together again.

He slips off his shoes, drops his gym bag to the floor, and brings his long, heavy body to lay over yours on the couch.

His face--tinted pink (presumably from the drinks)--buries itself against your neck, lips pressed to your skin.

Your fingers assume their familiar position, nestled in the blonde locks atop his head.

“Missed you…” You say lowly against his ear.

The small shiver that runs down his spine does not escape your notice.

“I’ve been here every night!” He protests.

“You know what I mean.” Your fingers press against his head, tugging on the strands the slightest bit.

“Mmm…” He affirms softly--your skin keenly feeling the gentle hum against its surface. He knows what you mean. He’s been here, yes, but it’s felt more like the ghost of him--wisping into your bed for a few hours and gone again in the morning.

“You were really in the zone today.” You comment. “I felt bad for the other team.”

He huffs out a small laugh. “Don’t. They played fine. We were just better.”

“Hmm…” You take your unoccupied hand and run a single finger up the curve of his spine.

He exhales, and you listen for the tremble in his breath you know will be there.

Just a little more.

“Either way, you were so good.” You can’t contain the coy lilt your voice takes on. You know damn well what you’re doing--using the very words that always make him quiver. He knows what you’re doing, too.

Atsumu thinks he doesn’t mind.

It’s quiet for a beat. The two of you simply basking in the warmth of your bodies pressed against each other. You stretch beneath him, and… readjust yourself in a way that presses your breasts against him just a little bit more...

And Atsumu finally, finally breaks.

He inhales sharply, and lets the subsequent exhale freely pass against your neck. A muffled word that sounds a lot like a plea leaves his throat.

“What was that?” You ask, purposely grazing your lips against his reddening ear.

“Please…” He begs.

You consider being mean for a moment. Consider pushing him to his limit in desperation. The way those sharp brown eyes would turn glassy and tearful, his dark brows pulled together, pleading you to hurry up and take him--touch him--let him touch you--fucking anything. However you want, wherever you want. Make him vocalize that burning desire, and only concede when he well and truly begs.

But that can always be arranged another time.

You’re far too heady with desire yourself to enact such cruelty on him right now. Not after he’s been so good.

You shift your weight, moving to switch your positions by sitting up and pressing him beneath you. Your straddle his hips, purposely pressing your weight down against his pelvis ever-so-slightly.

“You’ve been working so hard, ‘Tsumu…” You murmur, lowering the top half of your body to lean over his. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt, running up along the taut muscles that tremble at your touch. “Such a good boy…”

Atsumu’s bites his lip in an effort to stifle the deep moan that leaves his chest. The way his body almost involuntarily reacts to that phrase every. single. time… It’s just too good to pass up.

You wet your lips.

“Let me make you feel good.”

And you press those lips ever-so-softly to the juncture between his jaw and neck. Soft touch turning to a light bite, and then back to a soothing kiss.

Atsumu is crumbling--his hardening length pressing insistently against you.

“I got everything ready. We can use whatever you want: rope,” and you press a slow open-mouth kiss to his neck,

“your collar,” then one to his collarbone,

“a toy,” traveling down to his pecs,

“the strap…” ending just beneath his belly button.

You look up at him from beneath your lashes, watching keenly for his expression to shift in interest at any certain one.

Atsumu doesn’t give an immediate answer, his gaze unable to meet your own. Your hands trail back down his body, grazing a nipple with your fingernail just to see the way he twitches at the sensation.

“C’mon baby, how am I supposed to treat my good boy if he doesn’t tell me what he wants?” You purr, bringing your hands to the hem of the worn, oversized t-shirt covering your top half down to the juncture of your thighs. You’d snatched it from his dresser earlier to lounge in. Another carefully plotted detail. You knew just how riled up he got at the sight of you wearing his shirts. Even more so if he lifted it only to find those black and gold lacy panties underneath… Or if there was nothing…

Stretching your body, you pull the shirt up and off of your torso, tossing it aimlessly behind you. Atsumu’s gaze immediately returns to you--spotting that very set’s match: a black bra with intricate gold stitching around the lace adorning your skin. His hands are on you in an instant--palms sliding up your ribs to reach your breasts and gently squeezing around them.

Astumu had never been good with the concept of patience.

Normally, you’d stop those big, calloused setter hands in their tracks--admonishing him for not asking permission, first. But this was about him. About fulfilling every whim his exhausted mind and body had the energy left to want. You could allow a little insubordination tonight.

“You even wore my favorite.” He grins, that cheeky, self important tone of his sneaking back out. You smile coyly and tilt your hips downward, pressing your bare core against his still-restrained cock. He inhales sharply--dropping the attitude once more.

“Part of the reward.” You grin. “Now, what does my good boy want?”

His eyes drift upwards from their fixation on your breasts, meeting your gaze.

“I want…” He bites his lip. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Your eyes widen at the admission, but he’s speaking again before you can inquire.

“You’re always so patient with me when practice gets like this. I just want to... To give you a reward, too.”

You’re taken aback for a beat, pleasantly surprised at the acknowledgement. Atsumu still manages to surprise you with how observant he is. One of the more unexpected traits he shares with Osamu. Your eyes soften and you reach up to gently cup his face. He turns his head to kiss your hand and murmurs against your palm.

"Let me taste you. Please."

He knows how you get when he’s busy like this. How--despite your authority and confidence in the bedroom--you still long for his affection and crave his touch when he’s gone.

And this… This is the perfect way for him to express his gratitude while still pleasing both of you.

“Okay.” You breathe, moving to kneel over his face. “Whatever you want,” you gently drop your weight toward his mouth. “my sweet boy.”

He practically preens at the praise, moaning against your core. Again, Atsumu demonstrates his struggle with patience and savoring the moment. In an instant, he’s gripping your thighs and pulling them closer against the sides of his face. You know you could sit your entire weight atop him and he’d thank you, but tonight calls for something gentler. It’s enough to know you’re the only person who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to watch the diligent, cocksure Astumu Miya, one of--if not the--best setters in Japan, become so vulnerable and desperate beneath you.

He flattens his tongue and runs it slowly up from the start of your opening to the top of your clit.

“Fuck, ‘Tsumu…” You moan, hands rushing to grasp at his hair. He groans, too, at the sensation of your fingers tugging--the hum sending a vibration through your body. You grind your hips, silently urging him on, and his tongue laves at your clit with small kitten licks. The feeling of those tiny, gentle laps against your most sensitive spot, so diligent and soft--it’s like electricity coursing through you, running up into every limb.

“Mmhmm.” He hums against you. He knows just how you like it. When he services you like this--like the obedient puppy he is. “So wet… Y’taste s’good...” He says, hot breath fanning against you while he catches his breath for a moment.

You press yourself back against him insistently. “Who said you could take a break? Use your fingers, too.”

His mouth is back against you immediately, right hand sliding beneath your thigh to reach your opening. Carefully, he presses two fingers against it--testing the give, while his tongue continues to lick and suck at that sensitive nub. Spit has dribbled down from his mouth to where his fingers are pressed, and he slides his digits against the wetness, adding to the natural lubricant. Then, finally, he pushes those long middle and ring fingers up and into you. They slide in easily despite the way you feel yourself clench around the intrusion. He was right--you’re soaked. He finds a comfortable rhythm to compliment his tongue’s lashings easily and your head falls back, a deep moan escaping past your lips.

“‘Tsumu… ‘Tsumu, fuck just like that--you do it so well for me, baby… Right there--”

You’re cut off by the feeling of his fingers curling within you--searching, and then pressing against that spot so nicely.

Your thigh muscles twitch against his cheeks--breath fleeing from your lungs at the sudden rush.

“Yes, ‘Tsumu--fuck yes.”

You chance a look down at his face. Those long lashes closed, brows knit together in concentration while he pleasures you. Atsumu’s a pretty boy, but you think he’s prettiest like this.

Fuck, you want more of that desperate expression. Want to edge him over and over until he’s drooling and can’t remember his own fucking name.

You’re getting close. That climbing ecstasy rising dangerously high within you. You pull yourself off him before you can climb too high, and the release of suction from his mouth makes a small, wet pop.

“You eat it so well, baby. So, so good for me, pretty boy.” You coo, caressing the sides of his face. His lips are pink and wet and you return your hips to their place atop his length. His lip wobbles with a whimper, back arching against you in search of more.

“I think you’ve earned your reward now, don’t you?” Your eyelids fall, half-closed seductively while you lean your chest toward his face. You reach behind your back and release the clasp of your bra. His hands tighten themselves into fists, trying to restrain the urge to reach up and touch. The fingers of your left hand splay out against his chest, holding your weight, while the right moves down to pull off his boxer briefs. Then, your wet folds are sliding against his erect, bare, length. Slowly, up and down.

“Mmm please can I--can I touch--”

You interrupt him with a small lick against those still-wet lips and chuckle quietly to yourself.

Oh, so now he’s ready to ask first?

“You can.” You affirm, reaching down to line him up with your entrance. His breath is coming harder now, those hardened pecs rising and falling beneath you. The anticipation is rapidly unraveling him. Atsumu’s hands are on your back, tugging your chest back down towards him. As they slide forward around your ribcage to grasp your breasts, his gaze flits up to you.

“Can I--?”

“Mmhmm.” You nod--knowing what he wants. His mouth closes around your nipple, sucking with that perfect amount of harshness to tighten the coiling pressure in your lower body. His tip rests right against your opening. You can see the precum dribbling out of him--can feel the way he’s pushing himself slightly further up--desperate to get inside. Were this any other time, you’d reprimand him for such impertinence. Tie his hands above his head and deny him completely. ‘And you were being so good, too, asking permission and everything. You wanna be inside that bad, maybe I should remind you how it feels to be on the receiving end, hmm?’

But, honestly, he’d nearly tipped you over the edge with just his mouth earlier. You were becoming impatient, yourself.

Finally, blessedly, you sink yourself down onto his cock, revelling in the way his mouth falls open and his head flings backward against the couch pillow with a cry.

“Mmm.. ‘s it that good, baby?” You tease.

“‘S been a while… So tight…” He hisses, almost like it’s too much.

“Yeah?” You tease. Your hips are gradually picking up speed. Slowly rising up, up, up, as far as you can go before it feels like he might just fall out of you, and then your hip fall again, taking his full length deep inside.

“‘Tsumu…” You say, rising back up again. “I wanted to pamper you tonight... “ and you slide back down. “Give my cute, sweet boy a reward for all his hard work.”

Atsumu keens, whimpering beneath you.

“But I think I wanna be a little selfish, too.” You breathe, leaning in close enough for your breath to fan against his face. “Is that ok baby?”

A high pitched moan leaves Atsumu’s throat, and you clench around him.

“Yes…” He sighs between ragged breaths. “Yes... Please, I--”

“Please, what?” You interrupt him.

“P-please…” You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “Please, mommy…”

“Ohhhhh, that’s my good boy.” You moan, restarting the rise and fall motion of your cunt around him. “Gonna make you feel so good. Just the way you deserve, ‘Tsumu. But you have to promise you won’t cum until I say so, mmk?” You’re holding his face, running your right index finger along the line of his jaw with a feather-light touch.

And Astumu Miya shudders beneath you, staring up in reverence. The way those big brown watery eyes look at you… He’d look so cute with a collar clasped around his neck right now.

He nods. “I--I won’t. I promise. Please.”

Your hand moves up to stroke his hair softly. “Good boy.”

You restraighten your back in your seated position atop him. Your hands come to rest against his chest for leverage, and you begin riding him in earnest. Atsumu’s eyelids fall closed again, head thrown back while his mouth hangs open in pleasure.

“Is this what you wanted ‘Tsumu? Just want to feel me fuck myself on you until I’m satisfied?” You tease as you bounce. You slow to almost a halt and grind your hips in a circle, feeling the way his cock buries itself to the hilt. Atsumu’s hands are balled into tight fists against the couch. He’s moaning freely now--little cries escaping him as your cunt eagerly swallows him down over and over and over again.

“So good… You’re so good inside me, ‘Tsumu. Stretching me out so much every time. I know you know how good that feels.”

“Ahnn--!” He keens at the memory. The way your soft hands had pressed his legs up against his chest. Wetness from the lube dripping down so tantalizingly slow between his ass cheeks. The cock of your strap buried within him. How utterly full he had felt, stretched around it while you softly cooed praises at him, stroking his cock.

Fuck he wanted to cum like that again.

More than that, he just wanted to cum. His hands clench and unclench--mouth hanging open while he revels in memory--in the feeling of your tight, wet, heat sliding up and down him just how he likes--how he needs.

“I told you it was OK to touch, baby.” You reach down to grasp his hands with your own, bringing them to rest on your hips. “Hold onto me while I fuck myself on you.” You whisper.

Atsumu’s eyes open at that, watching your body bounce on him. HIs left hand hastily comes up to grasp a breast, relishing the feel of the soft, pliable skin in his grasp.

You gasp lightly at the sensation of his hand grazing your sensitive nipple. “Fuck yeah. So good for me baby--so good. Gonna make you cum in me like this--”

Atsumu’s head falls back against the cushions again, his expression knotted in pleasure. “You feel so good. So good… Please… Please I’m-- Ahh!-- I’m getting close.”

“Aww you’re close already? You wanna cum baby?” You shouldn’t tease. You know you’re close, too. That cresting peak getting closer and closer with every push of his cock into your deepest places. Your breath is ragged from the exertion of your body. You reach behind you blindly, refusing to miss an instant of Atsumu’s delicious expression. Eventually, you find the small bullet vibrator you’d stashed beneath the cushions earlier. You bring the toy to your clit and immediately feel it; that powerful wave looming just behind--threatening to take you over the edge. You steele yourself the best you can, inhaling deeply.

Atsumu slides his eyes open at the sound and unleashes the mostly ungodly, moan. His voice trembles when he speaks.

“Can I--can I come? Please--please baby let me come. Let me come.” His hands hold fast to your hips, grip growing steadily tighter as the sensations continue to climb. Faster now--exponentially faster. He’s not sure he could stop if he wanted to.

“Mmmm hearing you beg like that… Good boy. You can cum, baby. I’ll even cum with you for being so good. Go ahead. Cum in this tight pussy.” Your words are rushed, breath catching here and there. “Give it to me.”

And Atsumu shatters.

The way his cry lilts up--high-pitched and unabashed. That wave crashing into him so hard and so completely it takes you down under with him. Atsumu’s mind is empty. Nothing but blinding white as he expends everything he has in him in an instant. His name spills past your lips over and over like a mantra while you ride out your high. The two of you so in-sync, it feels as though your cunt convulses in time with his every pulse. Everything feels so, astonishingly good and intimate.

You’re both breathing heavily, eyes shut tight as that shared bliss slowly dissipates. You let yourself come down to rest on his chest. It’s suddenly very quiet save for your shared breaths. Eventually you rise onto your elbows, face directly over his.

“I love you…” Atsumu murmurs, eyes slightly flitting about while he studies the intricacies of your face. He memorized them all long ago, but even in this he is never sated. Your eyes soften, chest fluttering at his tone: so tender and soft.

“I love you, too.” You say, gently caressing his face. “So much.”

Atsumu can’t help the smile spreading across his face. In one quick motion, his arms are around your neck and tugging your face down toward him. His head tilts, lips melding themselves against yours when they make contact. The kiss is unusually tender, his lips trying to convey what his words cannot: how he is so thankful and lucky to have you. You, who understands how dear his passion, his career, is to him yet helps him remain grounded so that it does not consume him entirely. You, who remains so, so patient when he is away. You, who is always there to help him take care of himself when he is too busy or exhausted. You, who holds him when he finally fractures under the stress of giving his everything all the time--and who helps him put his pieces back together again and get back at it.

Your head returns to its resting place on his chest. His heartbeat steady beneath you, lulling you to sleep. You both need to get up, clean up, and get into your actual bed, but the bliss of finally feeling Atsumu’s hard body beneath you. Knowing it is completely yours, at least for a short while… You don’t want to relinquish it for even a second.

There’s another beat of silence before you speak.

“Wanna go to ‘Samu’s and get tuna tomorrow?” You ask.

Atsumu groans his approval loudly--so much so one would think he hadn’t just finished a massive meal with the Jackals. That signature cheeky grin returns to his face.

“Oh my god I love you.”

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #sub!atsumu #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #atsumu such a lil bastard i wanna take him down a peg if u kno what i mean ;)))#miya atsumu

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