#I'm so proud of myself. It's a small win but it's a big one for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

master-sass-blast · 28 days

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Let's Call it a Draw -Part Two: Victory.

Part One

Summary: Sevika pines. She drinks. Then she competes in some arm wrestling and makes some very sapphic eye contact.

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

Or maybe she wins all three times. It depends on your point of view.

(Basically just a very self-indulgent fic that spawned from an idea about Sevika and a big, buff Reader that I'll probably never get around to writing in full, so I wrote this as a way of honoring that idea.)

Pairing(s): Sevika x Reader.

Rating: E for explicit sex.

Word count: 7.2k.

Author's Note: Me? Posting more than once a year? Surely not.

In other news, my CFS/other body and brain shit is still overwhelming. It basically took dragging myself through editing to be able to post this latest round of fics (for those of you who don't check out my other works, no worries, but I like to post in little caches so that everything is updated mostly together). I'm not trying to vie for pity; I'm really fucking proud of myself for pushing through and being able to post. I had an unofficial goal of wanting to post more fics before April was over (because April is my birth month), and I did it! I am that bitch!

Thank you all for your patience -and all the comments! They really kept me going when the grind of editing was starting to wear me down.

Happy Reading!

Your apartment is a moderate walk from The Last Drop; not too far to make the commute unbearable, but long enough that Sevika is able to walk off the last of her buzz on the journey over. (She’s secretly grateful for the jaunt, because the last thing she wants is to go into what’s coming with anything less than perfect clarity of mind.) Your unit is tucked into a series of samey, stone-faced, grime-coated buildings, near the halfway point between the Lanes and Entresol.

Even better, it’s about fifteen minutes from her apartment. She tucks that tidbit of information away for later as she follows you up two flights of wrought iron stairs.

When asked why you picked your particular unit, you shrug and slide your key into the lock. “Quiet.” You open the door, then motion with one hand for her to step inside first. “Private. Decent enough neighbors.”

Sevika shrugs in response, hanging back in the entryway until you turn on a light. “Good enough reasons as any.”

Your apartment is small –a single, sparsely furnished studio with one solitary window that boasts a splendid view of the side of the neighboring building and the metal fire escape stairs. A light, covered with a cracked glass diffuser, hangs in the center of the room. On the far wall, next to the window, is a galley kitchen with wooden cabinets. A bed, stacked atop a few pallets, is tucked against the wall opposite the kitchen –and it is, certainly, bigger than hers. There’s a wooden table and a single chair between the bed and the kitchen. A chipped dresser rests at the foot of the bed. There’s a door near the entryway that boasts a glimpse of a tiled floor and the reflective flash of a mirror on the wall –a bathroom.

Oh, honey. She can’t really judge. She remembers what it was like when she got her first place. Her job had paid shit, and her apartment had looked like shit in return.

Your place, however, is conspicuously clean. There’s no trace of dust anywhere. No dishes left to fester in the sink. The counters and floors are immaculately tidy. Even your bed is perfectly made. The coat you use during the colder months hang on a hook next to the door, and your spare pair of boots sit on a mat beneath your coat.

In sum, it’ll hardly be the worst place she’ll ever fuck in.

“It’s not–” You purse your lips, then duck your head and look away from her. “I don’t –I’m not…” You swallow hard, then mumble, “Not so good at decorating.”

“That’s fine.” She hooks her fingers through your belt loops, then tugs you until you’re forced to face her. When your gaze stays glued to the floor, she murmurs, “Baby, look at me.” It takes a few long moments, but when you finally look her in the eye, she says, “It doesn’t bother me. Okay?”

Something dark and flighty clears from your eyes. You lift your chin, lower your shoulders, then reach behind you and finish closing the door to your apartment. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now–” you turn away briefly to lock the deadbolt and slide the security chain into place “–but uh…” You swallow, then laugh quietly. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve been doing great so far.” Warmth unfurls in her gut when you perk up at the praise. She smirks, then uses her grip on your belt loops to gently draw you further into your apartment. “And I don’t mind taking things slow.” She grins when your gaze flicks from her eyes, to her mouth, to her chest, then back to her eyes. “Might make things more straightforward if I ask you a few questions, though.”

You nod. “Shoot.”

“You ever get yourself off?”

You laugh –a proper, real laugh that makes your eyes crinkle around the corners. Tension melts from your shoulders, and your face lights up like the sun. “I’m not a nun.”

Sevika hums in understanding. She takes a few moments to savor the brightness on your face, then continues. “What do you like?” When you blink blankly, she clarifies, “When you’re touching yourself?”

“Uh…” You look away, eyes wide with confusion. Your brows draw together, and you huff before shrugging. “Getting off? I…”

“I meant how do you prefer to get yourself off?” Sevika interjects. “Toys, fingers, penetration–”

Your hackles rise before she even gets “penetration” all the way out. Your mouth creases into a tight grimace, and your jaw locks. You swallow hard, gazing locking on the floor as you take a deep, bracing breath. You shake your head. “Don’t like penetration.”

“Alright.” She lets go of your belt loops and smooths her hands over your hips in small, soothing circles. “That’s alright.” She waits until you glance at her, then smirks and arches one eyebrow suggestively. “Still leaves me with plenty of options.”

You let out a small, choked whimper.

She grins. “How do you like to touch yourself?”

“Um…” You swallow hard, then follow with dazed, uneven footsteps as she guides you towards your bed. Your eyes stay locked on her –her face, her mouth, her body. “With my fingers.”

“How many?”

“U-usually two.”

The heavy, dark weight of your gaze and your ragged panting makes her ache. She waits for a moment, watches as you wet your lips with your tongue, then asks, “Where do you use your fingers?”

You let out a shuddering breath. “On my clit.”

She grins wider, then goes in for the kill. “Good girl.”

You whine. Your knees nearly give out, and you slump partway against her. A few stitches on the seams of her pants pop when your hands clamp down on her hips. “Fucking hell –Sevika–”

She kisses you. She grips the contours of your waist to steady you both, then sets about plundering your mouth with her tongue.

You whimper into her mouth. Your hands migrate upwards, until they find the gap between the waistline of her trousers and the hem of her top. Greedy fingers press against her skin, mapping out every exposed inch, then edge higher still as you slide them beneath the bottom of her shirt.

She shudders, then breaks the kiss with a wet pop. She admires your kiss swollen, spit slick lips for a moment, then looks up and drinks in your wild, ravenous, lust-heavy eyes. “Mind if I run something by you?”

“Go for it,” you say, voice gone to gravel.

She grins and rubs her thumbs against your waist. “I want to get you in this bed…” She nudges you gently, then pivots when you move so that you’re standing against the bed and she has her back to your kitchen. “I want to get you out of these clothes…” She presses on your shoulders, then clambers onto the bed and straddles your lap when you drop down on your bed. She winds her arms around your neck and looks you in the eye. “And then I want to use my mouth on you until you forget your name.” She smirks when your mouth falls open. “How’s that sound?”

“Yes.”

She chuckles, then kisses you again. She hums with approval when you grab her ass, then slides one hand into your hair. She tugs, then grins when you groan. “You didn’t quite answer my question, sweetheart.” She has to bite back a laugh when you look up at her with dopey, slightly glazed over eyes. “If there’s something you don’t want –or do want–then I want to hear about it.”

You swallow audibly, gaze locked on hers. “I –I like the sound of everything you said.” You slide your hands up her sides, callused fingers catching on the rough material of her shirt. You admire her body for a long moment, tracking the journey of your hands, then look back up at her. “Can –can you get undressed, too?”

She smiles and nods. “Sounds good to me.”

You exhale shakily, then lick your lips. “I want to get you off, too.”

Her smile sharpens with smugness and anticipation. “That’s fine by me.” She strokes her fingers through your hair, and her heart flutters when you sigh contently. “What else do you like?”

“I–” You shiver when her fingers graze over your scalp. “I like it when you touch me.”

She smirks. Easy enough. She drags her fingers down the nape of your neck. “What else?”

“Wh –when you–” You tip your head back to chase her touch. “When you tell me what to do. Makes me feel like I’m –like I’m not gonna fuck up.”

Like she was ever worried about that. “Guess it’s a good thing I like giving orders.” She smirks when you chuckle –but her mirth fades when she catches a slip in your expression. Your mouth pinches tight, and she sweeps her thumb over your cheek. “What is it?” Her eyes narrow when you duck your head and mutter under your breath, and she presses her fingers under your chin and tilts your head up until she can see your face. “Speak clearly, babygirl.”

You stare up at her with wide, glossy, reverent eyes. You swallow, jaw flexing, then breathe out, “I like –I like it when you tell me I’m good.”

Sevika grins. She’d already figured as much, but it’s so much more satisfying hearing you say it. “Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart.” She leans in, relishing how you tremble when she brushes her lips over your jaw. “Because you are so very…” She trails her lips down your neck, over your thundering pulse. “Very…” She licks the hollow of your throat, then finishes off with a graze of her teeth. “Good.”

Your fingers dig into her thighs as you moan. “Sevika–”

She presses her hands against your chest and pushes you back onto your bed. She follows you down, mouth attached to your neck, and murmurs a simple command into your skin. “Touch me.”

You do so quickly, ravenously. Your hands dig into her thighs and ass. You whimper into her mouth when she tightens her human hand in your hair, then your hips buck up against her when she tugs you head back and goes after your neck with her tongue. “Ohfuck!”

She plasters herself against you. Her tongue and lips and teeth trace over every inch of your neck, leaving no inch of skin unexplored. Arousal curls heavy in her gut as you shudder beneath her. She moans when you pull at her hips, causing her to grind against you. She rolls her hips against yours, then leans to one side and nips at your ear. “Good girl.”

A breathless whine leaves your lips. Your hands move up, up, up, until the tips of your fingers catch beneath the hem of her top.

She catches the hitch in your breath and pulls back to study your face.

You’re panting, lips slick with spit and kiss-swollen. Your gaze is locked in on the stripe of skin bared between her pants and her shirt. You drag your eyes up, over her chest, until you meet her own steady stare. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I… Is this okay?”

“It is,” she assures you. She leans back, then reaches for the bottom clasp of her shirt with her right hand. She holds her hand there, not making to start undoing the clasps (which are designed to be undone with one hand, since her left catches on fabric too easily). “But it’ll be more comfortable if I take it off.”

Your eyes go dark and wide at the suggestion. You swallow again –then, hesitantly, lift one hand until it joins hers. “...Can I?”

Sevika smiles and moves her hand away to give you more space to work with. “Sure.”

You go slowly, but your hands are surprisingly steady. Gaze almost reverent, you work your way up each clasp until her shirt hangs open, exposing more dark skin and the fabric of her bra. You swallow hard when she shucks her shirt off and tosses it aside, then thumb the elastic band of her bra. “Can –is it –would you–”

Sevika merely smirks, then pulls her bra off over her head. The fabric thwaps lightly against the floor when she tosses it away, and then she gazes down at you like the cat that got the canary. “Better?”

All that comes out of you is a faint, strangled squeak. Your eyes jump up and down as you valiantly try to avoid ogling, only to lower back to her exposed chest.

She chuckles, then cups your face with her right hand. “You’re allowed to look.” She smiles down at you when you let out a shaky breath –then grins, all teeth and sly satisfaction. “I’d rather you did, considering I’ve got my shirt off and all.”

“Geh.” You sputter, half-formed words and grunts tumbling out, until your eyes finally wander down and stay there.

Sevika watches, unabashedly proud, as your lips part in dazed rapture. She holds still, lets you study and admire her bare skin and breasts.

She’s not necessarily voluptuous, by any means. The sheer physical demands of her life over the years has lent itself to the development of hardened muscle, not supple fat. Years of food scarcity (and money scarcity, for that matter) also means she hasn’t had ample opportunity to glut herself like the pigs up Topside.

She’s strong. Her body does its job, and garners the attention and attraction she wants. As such, she doesn’t spend time fretting about being “pretty” or more conventionally shapely –a good thing, since the explosion left a great deal of scarring over the left side of her chest and ribs.

Beauty contests are overrated, anyways.

So, it takes her off guard when you stroke the side of her waist and murmur, “You’re so pretty, Sev.”

She blinks a few times, lips parted in surprise. Then, out of instinct more than anything else, she scoffs. “That’s what everyone says to gal with her tits out.”

“No –it’s not–” You plant your hands on her thighs, then stare beseechingly up at her. “That’s not it,” you insist. “You’re pretty, Sevika.” You lift one hand and stroke the swell of her cheek with your knuckles. “I think you’re so beautiful.”

Her stomach flips. She swallows, suddenly light-headed, then leans down and kisses you again.

Callused hands smooth over her skin once more; you’re greedy, mapping out her abdomen and back. But you stall when your fingers graze the underside of her breasts. Your breath hitches against her lips, and your hands go still.

Without breaking the kiss, she takes one of your hands and presses it to one of her breasts. Amusement flashes through her when you let out a choked whimper, but it’s short lived as your touch lights her up. Mirth quickly yields to pleasure; she presses into your tentative touch, then groans against your lips when you squeeze her tit experimentally.

Enthusiasm seems to be all the reassurance you need. Your other hand envelops her other breast, and you squeeze and knead her chest with surprising gentleness.

She sets her agenda aside for now. As much as she wants to strip you down and break you apart until you’re a slick, sobbing mess, she doesn’t want to override your curiosity or confidence. She groans when you roll her stiff nipples beneath your thumbs in tight, circular motions. “That’s it –fuck.” She grinds her hips down against yours to try and appease her aching cunt. “Good girl.”

You whimper when she drags her teeth along the length of your neck.

She wanders lower, down to the collar of your shirt –but freezes when you take your hands off her tits. She leans back when you prop yourself up on your elbows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you pant empathically. “I just–” You sit up, then shuck your shirt and bra off over your head in one swift movement. You toss the clothes onto the floor next to your bed. Trepidation flashes across your face the second after the garments thwap against the wooden floor. You slowly turn your head and look at her. “Is… is this okay?”

Sevika grins, slow and hungry. “This,” she murmurs as she drapes her right arm over your shoulder, “is very okay, sweetheart.”

The grin you flash at her in return is pure, giddy joy.

You’re built a lot like her. Big, strong, with scars and a few prison tattoos along your arms and shoulders.

The more analytical, tactical part of her mind notes you’ve put on weight since leaving Stillwater. Her mind harkens back to early days of training with you, then cleaning up after in the gym showers after. You’d still been big, and built, but she’d been able to see your ribs while you’d changed shirts. Now, you’ve filled out nicely. You look like you’re actually eating, instead of starving on the prison rations.

She lays you back out on the bed, admiring you from above. She sweeps her right hand along the yoke of your shoulder and over your collarbones, skirting above your chest (for now).

Your eyelids flutter. You sigh, then latch on to either side of her waist and pull her down on top of you.

Skin contact is nice. She’s not usually the type to get up close and cuddly with most of her lays, but even she can concede that the sensation is pleasant. It runs the gambit of being soothing or exhilarating, depending on circumstantial context.

You gasp when her chest presses flush against yours. The bed creaks as you arch up against her. A broken, ecstatic moan falls from your open lips.

Sevika lets out a low, aroused groan in response to your excitement. She plasters herself against you, then busies herself in working her way down your neck and drinking in your unrestrained noises of pleasure.

She pauses long enough, just above your breasts, to ask “Is this okay?” Your immediate, ragged “Yes!” spurs her on, and she lowers her head to kiss your left breast. She slides her tongue over soft skin experimentally, mostly to gauge your reaction. Another open-mouthed kiss elicits a breathy exhale and some slight squirming. Satisfied, she moves lower, and gently wraps her lips around your peaked nipple.

Your responding sigh trails into a faint moan.

She cycles through a few staples –swirling your nipple beneath her tongue, rhythmic sucking, even carefully biting the stiffened bud. The last one gets the strongest response –a deep, broken, surging groan that she’ll be replaying in her mind for weeks to come–but she opts to move on after giving some cursory attention to your other breast. She kisses her way down your stomach, leaving smudged lipstick marks as she goes. Sevika lifts her head to admire how her lipstick looks against your skin, then lowers her mouth once more and drags her teeth over a spot on the side of your waist.

You yelp. The bed rocks as you thrash and try to squirm away from her mouth.

Sevika bars your hips down with her metal arm (but even then, it’s a struggle) and lifts her head. “You okay?”

“You–” You lift your head, then narrow your eyes when you catch her smirk. “You bitch.”

Her smirk widens into a grin. She carefully teases your side with the tips of her metal fingers, then chuckles when you squawk. “Something wrong, baby girl?”

“Fuck you.”

She laughs again, then takes mercy on you and goes back to lavishing your abdomen with her mouth.

She traverses lower, steady but slow enough that she can gauge your reactions. When the tension, the freezing she’s waiting for never comes, she hooks her human fingers beneath the band of your pants and briefs beneath. “I’d like to take these off you.” She waits, trailing soft, barely-there kisses along your abdomen. When you don’t respond past a shuddering, quiet moan, she asks, “That okay?”

“Yes,” you answer in a drawn out, somewhat strangled whimper.

She waits while you undo the buttons on the fly of your pants, then drags your trousers and briefs down once you lift your hips.

You draw your legs up to aid the process. Once your pants and underwear hit the floor, though, the hesitance creeps back in.

Sevika stills when she watches your shoulders bunch up. She waits for a moment –but, when you don’t say or do anything, she nudges. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod, then swallow. “Just –uh…” Your tongue works inside your cheek for a moment, and then you let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “Just– I think– might feel less silly, uh, if–”

A small smirk plays on her lips when you gesture between the two of you. “That’s fine.”

The clasp of her belt clacks when it smacks against her thigh. She kicks her boots off, then shucks off her pants and underwear in swift, even motions. The last of her clothes join yours on the floor.

“Wow.”

She does a double take when she hears the hushed, awe-struck whisper. She looks at you, brows raised towards her hairline. She takes in your wide-eyed, almost worshipful expression. Something soft and sweet settles in her chest like Firelight wings, and she smiles in spite of herself. “Good to know I’ve still got it.”

Your eyes rove over her body, tracing out every curve. “I don’t think you ever lost it.”

She chuckles, shakes her head, then straddles your bare hips. “You’re a fucking sap.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes to try and play off the warmth spreading through her chest. She plants one hand on either side of your head. “Try saying that when I’m not naked.”

Wide, panicked eyes snap up to hers. Your mouth opens, closes, then opens again. “I –you’re–”

She laughs. When you let out an irritated huff, she laughs harder. Sevika shakes her head, then cups your cheek with her right hand. “I’m just fucking with you, baby.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, even as you lean into her touch. “You’re a dick.”

“You just got that?”

A bemused smirk plays on your lips, before slipping away to something softer, more contemplative. Your hand hesitates halfway up, before circling behind her head. “Can I take this down?”

“Sure.” She reaches back with her right hand to help you undo the tie keeping her hair back, then shakes her head once her hair is free.

You smile, small and soft. You run your fingers through her hair, then tuck a few locks behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful.”

Heart racing, she leans down and kisses you. “No, you.”

Her journey back down your body is swifter this time around. She still teases your skin with her mouth, keeping that precious contact she’s learned you crave so fervently, but wastes no time in reaching her goal.

You let out a shuddering gasp when she situates herself between your thighs. A soft gulp emanates from your throat. “What –what should I do?”

“You’re supposed to enjoy yourself.” She brushes her lips against your inner thigh, then smirks when trembles wrack your body. “You put your hands on my hair, if you want.” She licks the junction where your thigh and hip meet, dragging a high-pitched moan past your lips. “You can tell me how good it feels.” And it’ll feel good, believe me. “But, otherwise, you just enjoy it, sweetheart.”

Your hips jerk when her breath fans over your cunt. One hand stutters down your body, then settles atop her head. You whimper. “Okay.”

Sevika pushes your thighs a little further apart, then settles on her belly, drapes her metal arm over your hits, and presses a soft, closed-mouth kiss against your pussy.

She's an old hat at eating women out. She’s not so proud as to call herself an “expert” –unless she’s drunk and bragging–but she knows she’s good at it. She knows the rules of eating pussy like the back of her hand.

First, don’t be afraid to explore. Don’t just focus on the clit and ignore everything else. The cunt is a buffet, and you’re there to eat.

Second, pay attention. Listen to how your bedmate responds, and listen to anything they mention beforehand. Being a know-it-all isn’t sexy.

Third, have fun. If you treat going down on your partner like a chore, they’ll pick up on it, and they won’t enjoy anything you do to them.

Fourth, don’t stop until they physically push you away.

She groans as she drags her tongue between your inner labia. Satisfaction sings through her veins –not so much at the taste (though she certainly enjoys that, too), but because she’s finally got her hands –mouth–on what she’s yearned after for so long.

It’s like working a marathon, back breaking, days long shift, just to finally come home and sink into a warm, soft bed. Except it’s eating pussy. Or whatever.

Ah, well. Metaphors can go fuck themselves, anyway. She has bigger priorities right now.

“Sev-vika!”

Like that.

Hitching, needy moans spill past your lips. “Ohmigod.” Your hips jerk against the (literal) iron bar of her mech arm. “Fuck –please, please–”

Sevika’s eyes dart up when you clap your other hand over your mouth. She pulls away from your dripping pussy –resulting in a strangled, confused whine from you–and tugs your hand away from your mouth. “Nuh-uh. Let me hear you, baby.”

Eyes glazed over and slightly unfocused, you stare at her glistening mouth before swallowing hard. “O-okay.”

She settles back between your legs, but pauses long enough to lock eyes with you again. “Good girl.”

Your responding whine is delicious.

She laps at your clit, swirls her tongue against the sensitive bud, then moves back down to lick around your entrance and suck on your sensitized flesh. She moans when you grind your clit against the bridge of her nose. “That’s it,” she growls into your soaked cunt. “Good girl.”

“Fuck!” Your fingers curl tightly into her hair. Thick, trembling thighs squeeze either side of her head. “ Quiet, strangled moans strain from your throat, followed by ragged, full-chested cries of pleasure, before cycling back to attempts to stifle yourself as pleasure rolls through you. You whimper, back arching off the bed. “Nnngh –that –m-more. More p-pressure, Sevika–”

She strokes your clit harder with her tongue, then starts alternating between sucking on your clit and licking it.

“Yes!” Tremors overtake your body. “That –that. Please. Please, please, please–”

Her eyelids slide shut when your cries cut off into silence. Her mech arm strains as your hips jerk against her mouth. She slowly ramps down the pressure and speed, coaxing you through your orgasm and into the afterglow.

Or, that’s the plan, at least.

Your body shudders as an aftershock runs through you. You let out a choked sob –then clap one hand over your mouth as another tremulous cry follows too close behind.

Crap. Sevika pulls her mouth away from your glistening pussy when you draw in a high-pitched, staggered, panicked breath. “Hey, hey.” She wipes her mouth on the back of her right forearm, then crawls up the bed. “Easy, sweetheart.” She wedges herself into the space next to you, then slides her right arm beneath your neck as she lies down. “C’mere.”

You curl into her and bury your face in her neck.

Hot, salty tears smear across her skin. She ignores the sensation in favor of stroking your hair and crooning reassuringly in your hair. “Just breathe for me. Come on.” She models a deep breath for you, then brushes her lips against your temple when you mimic her as best you can. “Attagirl. That’s it.”

A minute, shaky whimper falls from your lips. “I’m sor–”

“None of that,” Sevika cuts off, voice stern but gentle. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby. Just breathe for me, okay?”

Within a few minutes, you’re breathing more normally, even if you’re still tense as a rock and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. You swallow audibly, then curl one arm around her torso. “Sorry for freaking out.”

“What’d I say about doing that?” The corner of her mouth twitches up when you grunt into her neck. “It happens more than you think.”

“What, people have the best orgasm of their life, then blubber like a baby about it?”

Resisting the urge to preen is arduous. She inhales slowly, quietly, then forces her voice to come out neutral. “It’s called sub drop in BDSM communities. Endorphin and emotional high, followed by a drop after orgasm or a scene, followed by a crash. Happens in regular sex, too.” She cranes her head back and tilts her chin down until she can just see your eyes. “It’s normal.”

You drop her gaze and grunt against her shoulder.

“If anything,” she continues, “I should’ve warned you that it could happen. Prepared you better.” She strokes your hair lightly. “Ought to be me apologizing.”

You scoff. “Pretty sure you made me see god, if they exist. Think that balances everything out.”

She allows herself a smirk, then kisses the top of your head.

Once she’s confident that you’ve settled reasonably, she excuses herself to your bathroom. She washes and dries her face, then checks a couple drawers beneath your sink until she finds a few folded washcloths.

You lift your head when she walks back out of the bathroom. A confused frown tugs on your mouth when you see what’s in her hand. “Why…”

She arches one eyebrow and lifts the damp, clean rag. “For your sake, I hope you know to wash up after sex. Or masturbating.”

“I–” You sputter and scrunch up your nose at her. “Yes, you jackass, I know that! I haven’t been living under a rock my whole life!”

“Great.” She sits on the edge of the bed, then swipes the cloth over one of your inner thighs. “Figured you did, since you tasted pretty clean.”

“I –shit!” You shiver and hiss through your teeth. “That’s cold!”

“I used warm water,” she chuckles. “Your body’s just hot.”

“Fucking–” You flinch when she wipes down your other thigh, then prop yourself up on your elbows and squint at her. “I can do this myself, y’know. You don’t gotta…”

She shakes her head when you gesture to her hand, then carefully wipes along your cunt. “It’s good etiquette.” She tosses the used rag onto a wooden crate next to your bed that doubles as a nightstand –if the small camping lamp and a couple of books are anything to go by–then meets your doubtful gaze. “I’ve got a reputation for taking good care of my girls. I’m not about to start slacking now.”

You grunt and roll your eyes, but that seems to be the last of your protesting. You certainly accept the glass of water she fetches for you moments later with less belligerence.

Sevika waits until you set the empty glass on your makeshift nightstand, then clambers onto your bed and nudges you with her knee. “Make room.”

You oblige and shift towards the wall. Once she’s flat on her back, you settle against her side, half-draped on top of her.

Sevika resumes stroking your hair with her right hand.

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.”

“Most people don’t.” She twirls a lock of your hair around her index finger. “It’s part of aftercare manners, too. Releases endorphins, helps calm everyone down again.”

You hum softly. Your hand presses flat against her ribcage, fingers smoothing over soft, dark brown skin. “You’re very good at it.”

She chuckles and grins. “Well, thank you, baby girl. You’re not so bad at it, either.”

The two of you settle into silence for a bit. It’s surprisingly peaceful –there’s muffled noises from the adjoining apartments and outside (Zaun is never truly quiet), but it’s a familiar, comforting drone.

Her heart leaps when you let out a little sigh, then relax against her. It’s taking everything to keep from grinning like a sap. She feels like she’s glowing from the inside out; she’s the cat that got the cream. After stewing in frustrated, uncertain yearning for so long, she’s done. She has her hands on you, she’s cracked you open, and she’s drinking everything. Being in the wake of your coveted softness feels like standing in a summer’s evening sunbeam, akin to her rare journeys to the docks, or up to the Promenade when running errands for Silco.

She brushes her hand from the nape of your neck, down the line of your spine, to in between your shoulder blades. Your skin is wondrously soft here –unscarred, untouched by calluses–and it feels exquisite beneath her fingertips. She soaks up the way you shiver, how you bury your face in her neck and sigh contentedly–

You prop yourself up on one hand and rise abruptly. Brows drawn together, you stare down at her with a small frown. “What about you?”

She blinks a few times, caught off guard. “What about me?”

“I’m pretty sure those were my brains you wiped off my thighs.” You smirk when she laughs, then continue once she settles back down. “I don’t want to freeload.”

Sevika shakes her head. “This isn’t how that works. If you don’t feel–”

“I want to,” you cut her off, expression and voice earnest. “I’m just not…” you gesture up and down her body, “...sure where to start.”

“Well,” she purrs as she stretches slowly. Smug satisfaction curls through her chest at the way your hungry, awestruck gaze roves over her body. Damn right. “There’s options, depending on how involved you want to be. If you don’t feel like touching, you can watch me masturbate. If you want to touch, but want me to have more control, I can always sit on your face. And if you want to touch and have more control, I can lie back and you can go down on me like I did for you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Dark, wide eyes flit down between her legs, then back up to her face. “Yeah.”

She grins. “Which one?”

“I mean…” You quirk your mouth to one side, glance away, then shrug ever so innocently. “We could have time for all of them.”

“We could,” she agrees, her grin growing wider. She reaches up, curls her fingers around your chin, and guides your head until you’re looking at her again. “Where do you want to start, sweet thing?”

Your expression goes blissfully blank for a moment.

She’s having far too much fun with this. You’re so responsive, she barely has to do anything to turn you into a muddled, lusty mess. It’s a gamble if you’ll stay this way, once you’re not so touch-starved and have some more experience, but right now she’s going to indulge and enjoy herself.

A few seconds later, you collect yourself and inhale sharply. “The –the face sitting. That’s a real thing?” Your breath hitches when she brushes her hand downward, over your neck. “I– I thought it was just in dirty novels. Or people talking shit.”

“It’s a real thing.”

“That.” Your voice is a rough, hungry growl. You lick your lips. “Sit on my face. Please.”

Exhilaration sings in her veins. She sits up slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole time, until she’s a hairsbreadth from your lips. “Good girl.”

You whimper into her mouth when she kisses you.

She directs you onto your back, then straddles your chest. She takes a moment to enjoy the view –you beneath her, hair mussed, lips kiss swollen–then works her way forward on her knees. She braces her arms against the wall, gets one knee over one of your burly shoulders –then laughs softly when you let out a strangled, high-pitched moan. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, emphatic. You’re staring at her thighs, her abs, her hips. “Pretty sure this is the best day of my life.”

She cackles, taken in by your enthusiasm, then swings her other leg over so she’s straddling your head. “Glad to be of assistance.” She finishes positioning herself over your mouth, then reaches down and grabs your hands. “Feel free to touch. Or hold on.”

“Hnmm.” Your fingers curl around her hips. “What –I –should –mouth?”

“Tongue and lips,” she answers with a smug smile. “Don’t be afraid to get messy. I’ll give you more direction in the moment.”

“Yesma’am.”

She smirks, then gives into your minute tug on her hips and lowers herself against your face.

You stay still for a moment –aside from your eyes rolling back in your head before sliding shut–until she reminds you, “Tongue and lips,” and then you start tentatively exploring her pussy. The first lick is soft and shallow, but the second goes deeper. Your tongue slides between her folds, and you groan softly in the back of your throat.

She hums lowly. Her head tips back, and she lets out a quiet sigh as you tease her pussy with your mouth. She lets you explore for a few moments –for you, she’s willing to be patient and let you test the waters–but soon rests her forehead against the wall so she can look down at you. “Up higher.” She groans when you tilt your chin up and drag your tongue over her clit. “Right there. Good girl.”

Your responding whimper is muffled by her thighs and cunt. The bed rocks gently as you squirm beneath her. Your fingers curl into her hips as your eyelids flutter shut, and you give into the bliss of eating her out.

To your credit, you’re a quick learner. It only takes a few more directions –adjusting speed and pressure, and reminding you to vary it up between your tongue and lips–before her thighs start quivering on either side of your head.

Your name falls from her lips in a breathy sigh. She rolls her hips against your mouth –then, when you freeze, she reaches down and sinks her fingers into your hair. “Don’t stop.” When you resume with just as much vigor as before, she groans. “Fuck –good girl.”

A strangled groan gets swallowed by her cunt. You’ve got your eyes shut; understandable, since it’s not like seeing in the most important function, given your current position.

But she wants to see your eyes. She wants to see how wrecked you are for her.

Her command to look at her goes unheeded for a moment. (Again, she can’t blame you. Pussy is a powerful drug.) But when she tugs on your hair and growls, “Look at me,” again, you get the message. You gasp, high-pitched, and then your eyes shoot open.

The wide, dazed look in your eyes makes her clit throb. She moans, making her forehead thunk against the wall. “Good girl.”

You whine her name into her cunt, and your eyes slide shut again–

Sevika tightens her grip on your hair until you let out a squeak and open your eyes again. “Keep ‘em open.” She braces her metal forearm above her head for stability, then rolls her hips experimentally a few times. When your gaze stays locked on her –although it unfocuses slightly, but she can’t say she blames you–she rewards you with another growled, “Good girl.”

Your responding whine reverberates through her pussy.

Thirst for obedience quenched, she sets into chasing her own pleasure.

It isn’t terribly protracted. Worshiping you earlier left her in quite the sweet spot –even after a break for aftercare and cuddling. She can already feel the tell-tale ache in her cunt; her orgasm’s not too far off, and between your mouth, the pace of her hips, and the pussy-drunk look in your eyes, it’s not going to be a difficult chase.

“Fuck!” Though she’s trying to be mindful that this is your first time, that you haven’t ever had someone ride your face, she can’t help but grind down harder. “Fuck –shit!” Her eyes roll back in her head, before she forces herself to look down again; she’s told you to keep your eyes open, and she’s not going to waste a single second of your compliance. “G-good girl. Shit. You’re –suchagoodgirl.” A breathless, higher pitched moan tears from her throat when your fingers curl into her ass –and again when you start helping her rock against your mouth. “You’re so –fucking perfect!” She groans, loud and broken. Her own eyes are crossing now; she can barely make out your face. “My perfect… perfect… good girl…”

You squeal the broken syllables of her name into her soaked pussy.

That’s all it takes. She climaxes with your name on her lips, bracketed between slurred curses and praises. Her eyelids finally slide shut, and she slumps against the wall as the rolls of her hips break down into softer, fluid humping. Eventually, she stills, panting like she’s gone five rounds in a fighting pit.

You wait, the picture of patience, while she catches her breath and comes back to her senses. Until, that is, curiosity and impishness overrides nerves and you decide to try sucking on her clit again.

She nearly jumps out of her skin. The ensuing oversensitivity borders between delicious and delirium, too good and too much, but she’s not in her head enough to navigate you through that right now. She lifts her hips off your face with a choked gasp. “You little shit.”

You grin up at her, lips, and chin, and cheeks, and neck coated in her arousal. “Sorry.”

She squints blearily down at you. “Somehow, I don’t buy that.” She smirks when you giggle, then shudders when you kiss the inside of her thigh. “Alright, enough. Make room.” She hefts one leg, so she’s no longer straddling your head –then stills when she feels her metal fingers catch against the wall. Slowly, ruefully, she looks up.

Five jagged, long gouges carved –by her–into the painted drywall greet her with no small amount of judgment.

“Shit.”

“Sev?” You squeeze her thigh gently. When she doesn’t respond, you crane your head back and

look up. Your gaze zeroes in on the gouges, and you beam. “I take it I did a good job?”

Relief chases away any sheepishness she might’ve felt. She snorts softly, then smirks down at you. “You were great, champ.” She smiles softly when you laugh, then nudges your shoulder with your knee. “Now, move over.”

You disappear shortly after she lies down; the sound of water running the bathroom cues her to where you are –not that there’s many places to wander off to in your place.

Sevika lets herself drift. She feels good. Warm and loose, the way she always does during afterglow.

Your bed’s surprisingly nice, too. Good balance between support and squish, decently soft bedding, solid enough frame that doesn’t shake beneath her every time she shifts.

Definitely not the worst place I’ve ever fucked in. She nestles into the bed, then grunts when her lower back gives a satisfying pop. She doesn’t bother to open her eyes when the water shuts off in the bathroom –not until she hears your footsteps (which are surprisingly quiet) approach the bed, and your shadow cuts through what light she can perceive through her eyelids.

You set another glass of water down on your nightstand with a faint clink. Then, you carefully sit next to her on the bed and start wiping down the insides of her thighs with a warm, wet washcloth.

Warmth blooms in her chest. Sevika smiles, then pushes up her left hand and wraps her right hand around the back of your neck.

You still briefly –then sigh and melt into the kiss once her lips touch yours.

…Yeah. She owes Ran a drink.

#sass writes #sevika x reader #smut #not safe for Tumblr #arcane: league of legends

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portraitoftheoddity · 10 months

Text

I am a big fan of "if you feel overwhelmed by cleaning, choose just one small thing to do" as a way of getting started and over the initial anxiety-fueled inertia of doing chores.

Because "I have to clean the bathroom" feels like a lot. I can say "I have to clean the bathroom" all day to myself and keep putting it off because it's a large task composed of many little tasks, and picking one place to start is daunting.

But "I have to empty the bathroom trashcan because it's full" is not so bad. That's one task with a simple start and end point that takes 30 seconds. I can handle that. That's barely a chore.

But while I'm picking up the trash can I notice the toilet it's next to is looking kinda dusty and gross. And, well... wiping down the toilet isn't THAT hard since I'm already in there and the cleaning supplies are in the closet on the way to the main trash where I'm emptying the bathroom trash. So I take the trash out and grab the cleaning spray and the paper towels and come back and wipe down the toilet, and dump some cleaner in the bowl while I'm at it. And now the toilet is looking nice and clean but the sink is really scummy by contrast. But hey, I already have the cleaning spray and paper towels out! So I spray down the sink and I go to spray down the countertop but it's got stuff on it so I put away everything that needs putting away into drawers or the medicine cabinet and put the rest in the tub for a minute while I spray and scrub down the countertop and scrub out the sink, and then I double back to the cleaning supplies to grab the windex to wipe down the mirror while I'm at it, then when that's all taken care of I put everything in the tub back on the counter nice and tidy-like.

And now I have a much cleaner bathroom!

If I'm still feeling up to it, I might sweep the floor and scrub out the tub, or I might take a break. But what started as just "I need to take the bathroom trash out" led to spotting other tasks that it was easy to transition to because I was already there and had supplies on hand. I can stop at any point and instead of feeling guilty that I didn't scrub out the bathtub, I can feel proud that I windexed the stupid mirror, which was far beyond the original scope of what I set out to do.

The more little wins I set up for myself, the easier things feel, and the more motivated I get, because I keep accomplishing things. At a certain point I transition to thinking "okay, what's next that I haven't done yet" but by that point I'm on a roll and no longer struggling with the initial overwhelm.

So, yeah. That's what works for me.

#This is the story of how I just wound up cleaning the bathroom at 12am #because the trash was bothering me #even though I put off cleaning all day long #oops #cleaning #lena's personal crap #lena's unsolicited advice

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year

Text

Nothing Like Sister Love

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, danivalentine, claybornharlow, urbanwyatt, djdrama, neelamthadhani, and 1,009,530 others

y/ninsta: my big sister is better than yours 🥺

danivalentine: love you my baby girl. always and forever. 💖 y/ninsta: thank you for simply being you. don't know where I would be without having you in my life jackharlow: see? this is how siblings are supposed to support each other but I got stuck with claybornharlow 🙄😒 claybornharlow: jackharlow I mean you're a good big brother.... sometimes..... jackharlow: WHAT YOU MEAN SOMETIMES? ALL THE TIME IS MORE LIKE IT

druski2funny: is she single? because you not returning my calls

jackharlow: druski2funny returning your calls for what?!

druski2funny: jackharlow your ass stays lurking somewhere

jackharlow: druski2funny you damn right when it comes to my wife and dani is not single so move along

lilnasx: danivalentine can't wait for the beauty line to drop!

danivalentine: lilnasx you can thank Lil Bit for that one, she pushed me to do it! y/ninsta: danivalentine you and Julissa are always slaying my make up so it was only right! you know when I win, everyone does too and you've been wanting to do this forever

claybornharlow: two beauties in one photo 😍😍😍😍

jackharlow: claybornharlow and you better not be looking at the one who has the same last name as we do

y/ninsta: claybornharlow LITTLE BABY

jackharlow: I NEVER get this reaction out of you when I see you

y/ninsta: jackharlow please shut up because yes you do. you know I love you pookie 😘

jackharlow: y/ninsta I feel like something is coming after that

y/ninsta: jackharlow but I love my little baby too!

jackharlow: y/ninsta and there it fucking is smh

saweetie: still can't believe yall are 15 years apart

danivalentine: saweetie she was definitely a surprise lol only child life was no more

yungskylark: been tryna get at ms. dani for some time now 👀

y/ninsta: ace, she's taken. keep looking.

yungskylark: y/ninsta taken by who?!?! AND I TOLD YOU TO PUT IN A WORD FOR ME YEARS AGO

djdrama: yungskylark by me

normani: WELL GOT DAMN

sza: HOW'S THAT FOR A CURVE BALL 😭😭😭😭😭

theestallion: someone better start talking because WHAT

danivalentine: 2 years officially in april 🥰 y/ninsta: and yall can thank me for the love connection between danivalentine and djdrama 😊 jackharlow: y/ninsta that was definitely me, but whatever y/ninsta: jackharlow it was both of us let's call a truce jackharlow: y/ninsta if you say so smh

Liked by jackharlow, y/ninsta, djdrama, claybornharlow, urbanwyatt, shloob_, quiiso, and 534,032 others

danivalentine: my day one. still remember the first time I got to hold you. you were so tiny and I was going to make it my mission to be the best big sister to you that I possibly could. every single day I am amazed at the woman that you have grown into and I am so incredibly proud of you. never think for a second that I'm not. I love how you are able to come to me with your hopes, fears, and your dreams because no matter what happens, we'll get through it together because I'm never leaving your side. Just know that I will do anything to see you happy no matter how big or small it is. And I do mean ANYTHING. I thank God every day for jackharlow and how he takes care of my baby girl. I called it from the minute we moved to Louisville. you two are truly made for each other. 💖

jackharlow: you know I got her forever, you never have to worry about that. that's my baby. 😭

danivalentine: jackharlow I know you do. always in your corner.

y/ninsta: bitch, you know for a damn fact that I'm sensitive and I always cry

danivalentine: y/ninsta you got that from your mother lol

y/ninsta: I FUCKING LOVE YOU and I thank you for always being there for me. you are my voice of reason and you help me to focus on what's important and what matters the most. proud to call myself your little sister. djdrama if you hurt my sister, I'll kill you 😊 (for legal reasons this is not a threat IT'S A PROMISE)

jackharlow: djdrama take it with a grain of salt, she low key soft as hell and a big baby

djdrama: jackharlow I know she talks a big game lol y/ninsta you know you have nothing to worry about y/ninsta: djdrama I know where you live and I have sharp objects in my house just in case you decide to step a toe outta line

y/ninsta: jackharlow BOO BEAR YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BACK ME UP!

jackharlow: y/ninsta I am backing you up, baby!

y/ninsta: jackharlow that's okay. PG YALL NOT GETTING FED TONIGHT BECAUSE OF JACK. GET TAKE OUT.

2forwoyne: jackharlow NOW WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU MESSING SHIT UP FOR US

urbanwyatt: JACK, APOLOGIZE. WE HUNGRY.

nemoachida: NAH IT'S TACO NIGHT, JACK YOU BETTER GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER

quiiso: JACK, FIX IT!

yungskylark: I'm about to kick your ass, Jack. you fucking know better.

shloob_: y/ninsta I'LL HELP YOU COOK. COME ON, I'M HUNGRY

jackharlow: not yall coming for me smh

urbanwyatt: jackharlow I live here too so fucking fix it. you not about to have my ass starving smh

jackharlow: y/ninsta cutie pie

y/ninsta: jackharlow no.

jackharlow: y/ninsta come on baby girl.

y/ninsta: jackharlow your things will be outside when you get back

jackharlow: y/ninsta BABY!

y/ninsta: druski2funny take your life partner back. our relationship is done

druski2funny: y/ninsta say less. jackharlow what time you want me to pick you up?

jackharlow: y/ninsta I'll eat it from the back for 2 hours straight druski2funny she'll fold when she sees that

y/ninsta: jackharlow JUST KIDDING! you can come back. PG be at the house no later than 8:30. because once it's gone, it's gone and I'm not making anymore

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta can I request churros and ice cream?!

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt yes urby, just go to the store and get what I need. take 2forwoyne with you because he is not allowed to be in the house when I cook

2forwoyne: y/ninsta now what did I do?!?!

y/ninsta: 2forwoyne you are always doing something so stop playing smh

Liked by jackharlow, danivaleninte, djdrama, urbanwyatt, saweetie, estgee, and 2,801,227 others

y/ninsta: damn our parents made some pretty girls 😍😍

danivalentine: most definitely did 🥰

jackharlow: I love that the two of you have your hair the same. you never see one sister without the other. like danivalentine is a really good big sister to not only y/ninsta, but me too

danivalentine: jackharlow now you know your wife is sensitive and so am I from time to time, don't make me cry. just like I'll do anything for her, I'll do anything for you too.

jackharlow: let me tell yall how good of a sister she is. when me and y/n decided to move to atlanta, dani came to me and basically said I know that I'm not going to change her mind, but you have to promise me to look after her. so, any time after we moved and baby girl would get sad about missing dani (her separation anxiety is terrible) I would call her and tell her and that night she would be on our doorstep y/ninsta: not husband calling me out for my separation anxiety 😭 urbanwyatt: y/ninsta like he's one to talk. idk whose worse you or him. you tend to cry when you miss him and jack just gets mean as hell and irritated jackharlow: urbanwyatt AHT AHT! 2forwoyne: no lies were told tho neelamthadhani: still remember when I had to call her when we were in Germany to come get her husband because he was on EVERYBODY'S NERVES jackharlow: 🙄🙄🙄🙄

dualipa: there is no love like sister love. you two are so gorgeous.

y/ninsta: dualipa thank you boooo

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta BEST FRIEND

jackharlow: urbanwyatt you called?

urbanwyatt: jackharlow not you. my other one. your wife.

jackharlow: urbanwyatt well damn I see how it is smh

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt urby babyyyy

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta I have another food request for taco night

y/ninsta: go on

urbanwyatt: tres leches

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt lemme call Jessica and Blanca and issa go 🥰

saweetie: damn them titties is sitting right in that dress 😍😍

jackharlow: saweetie I know right, best pillows ever

quiiso: jackharlow surprised your big ass head didn't suffocate her that one time you were laying on her when she came back from the studio after you terrorized us all day because you missed her

jackharlow: quiiso why do yall stay coming for me? let me lay on my wife's boobs in peace

2forwoyne: jackharlow we call it like we see it

y/ninsta: saweetie them shits is huge and I'm scared to see how big they get when I get pregnant 😐

jackharlow: y/ninsta cannot wait for that 😏😏😏

y/ninsta: jackharlow just like a man smh 🙄

jackharlow: y/ninsta I did nothing wrong! let me put my face in them y/ninsta: BYE JACKMAN but... come here 👀 jackharlow: 👀

Liked by danivalentine, jackharlow, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, djdrama, lilnasx, druski2funny, and 2,901,376 others

y/ninsta: jackharlow just wait until I see you later. IT'S ON SIGHT 😤

jackharlow: y/ninsta PAUSE. I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING.

jackharlow: danivalentine come get her because she's short and that little evil demon side of her is about to make an appearance. I can sense it.

saweetie: NOT YOU CALLING HER AN EVIL DEMON 😭

danivalentine: jackharlow I can only stall her for so long, then you're on your own lol

jackharlow: saweetie have you truly truly truly ever seen her get mad? no, more like pissed off? talk to me when you do because you would agree with me. it's never been directed at me, but got damn 😭

urbanwyatt: jackharlow I told you to go back to the hotel to get your phone. you ain't wanna listen to me.

jackharlow: not now Urb!

y/ninsta: JACKMAN!

jackharlow: y/ninsta yes baby?

y/ninsta: jackharlow I MISS YOU 😢

2forwoyne: here they asses go smh

neelamthadhani: danivalentine definitely called me and told me y/ninsta was pouting all day because she missed jackharlow's big head

jackharlow: neelamthadhani the one up top or down below?

y/ninsta: jackharlow BOTH

neelamthadhani: you two get on my LAST nerve smh

danivalentine: y/ninsta jackharlow does it ever end with the two of you? smh

urbanwyatt: NO

yungskylark: NO

nemoachida: NO

quiiso: NO

2forwoyne: NO

shloob_: NO

jackharlow: yall some haters smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow they can hate all they want, when I see you I want all the kisses

jackharlow: y/ninsta you know you never have to ask

claybornharlow: little baby has arrived

jackharlow: and little baby needs to make an exit

claybornharlow: y/ninsta I would never ignore your calls, just saying.

normani: jackharlow FLOP

jackharlow: I forgot it at the hotel, don't do that 😭

y/ninsta: claybornharlow I know you wouldn't, you could teach your brother a thing or two

jackharlow: y/ninsta and imma kick him in the throat

y/ninsta: jackharlow BABY!

jackharlow: y/ninsta why do I always get in trouble but he never does? he's the youngest

y/ninsta: jackharlow I'm the youngest, what are you tryna say?

jackharlow: y/ninsta exactly my point and your ass gets away with EVERYTHING

y/ninsta: neelamthadhani is my key at the front desk? I'm about to come upstairs and kick my husband's ass

jackharlow: WAIT, I TAKE IT BACK

neelamthadhani: y/ninsta have at it lmao

shloob_: jackharlow I can hide you in two minutes

jackharlow: shloob_ 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow instagram au #instagram au #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x you #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow concepts

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phantoms-lair · 2 months

Text

Stray part 2

"So dare I ask what a cadre of thieves are going to do against an international criminal syndicate with incredible power and an utter lack of regard for human life?"

"Oh, you're young." Takagi said, then seemed to pause. "Theoretically, at least."

Oh right, he'd almost forgotten about that wrinkle. "Unless that bet about me being Kudo Shinichi is right?" he hedged.

"No, you'd still be young if that was the winning bet."

Huh. He hadn't thought there were other bets, or that they'd say he was ever older. "Such as what?"

"Shinigami." Takagi answered.

"Seriously?" Conan asked in disbelief.

"You tell me Mr. I'll-Tell-You-Who-I-Really-Am-In-The-Afterlife who's got a perfect attendance record to every murder in Tokyo and several outside of it." Takagi challenged.

It...was incredibly wishful thinking Takagi hadn't remembered that little exchange, wasn't it?

"Inari was particularly proud of his theory that you were a personification of the concept of Justice who'd manifested to punish humanity for the sins they commit upon each other, except you met the kids and their purity won your heart, so you've taken them as you disciples and only punish the guilty instead of humanity as a whole."

"I'm sorry, what???"

Takagi shrugged awkwardly. "Fox is...I mean we're all dramatic, but Fox he...he sees the world a little differently than the rest of us."

"So that brings me back to what a person who's that far out there, or any thieves could do against them."

Takagi was quiet a moment. "Ask Agasa-Hakase."

Conan narrowed his eyes. "I'm asking you now."

"And anything I'll say would be extremely biased. You won't find much in official records, A lot of people in power wanted those records forgotten. And most of the adults you talk to are around my age, so they'd have been kids at the time. I was only ten myself when Joker and the others saved me."

"Saved you?" Conan fished.

Takagi smiled at him, a little sadly. "The Police Chief of a small town was trying to manipulate things to be mayor. I ended up being kidnapped so the 'Missing Kid' thing could be leveraged against the current Mayor. 'If Abe Kazuhiko were Mayor, that child would never have gone missing'."

"That's stupid." Conan snorted. "You'd tell as soon as you were found."

"If I was found." Takagi said with twenty years of bitterness. "That wasn't in the plan."

"Oh." That...that was vile. Murdering a kid for political clout.

“But while all the police were rallying against the current Mayor, Joker and his crew - who were only in town to stop for gas - heard and went digging. They found me. They saved me. When no one else could even be bothered.”

There was a lot he was leaving out. The mind-controlling phone app. The two weeks he spent feral in the metaverse, dodging cognitions turned militia and eating memories of food and pieces of dreams. But there was no way he could have that conversation without sounding insane.

"I'm surprised you became a police officer after that." Conan commented.

Takagi was silent for a minute. "It wasn't my first choice, that's for sure. And I won't get into all the whys but a big one is...people go to the police for help. And I wanted to make sure a good cop wasn't harder to find than a unicorn."

Of course he knew where to find unicorns. But he wasn't bringing that up either.

"Hakase, have you heard of a group calling themselves Phantom Thieves of Heart?"

Agasa let out a deep sigh. "That brings me back. What was it? Twenty, thirty years ago?"

That matched what Takagi-Keiji had told him, as did the fact that he could find nothing official on them.

"Who were they?"

"I don't think anyone found out. The police claimed to have their leader at one point, but that turned out to be a lie." Agasa shrugged. "I think there was talk of a lower profile prior incident, but like most of the country I became aware of them during the Madarame scandal."

"The what now?"

"Madarame, an artist considered a national treasure for his myriad of styles, most famous for the painting, Sayori. One day a gallery showing of his became covered in strange cards. The cards were written by a group calling themselves The Phantom Thieves of Heart. They claimed Madarame was a thief who stole the artwork he claimed as his own from his apprentices, who he'd been abusing. And that he would confess his sins with his own mouth."

Conan frowned.

"Madarame called it nonsense. The next day he put together a press conference and confessed to everything he's been accused of and more, including purposely letting the mother of his youngest apprentice die so he could steal her final work - the Sayori he was famous for. He provided more than enough evidence to prove it. There was not a mark on him, no sign of coercion. It was as if all the evil in his heart vanished overnight."

His frown deepened. "It doesn't work like that."

"But it did. For a little over a year whenever a calling card would appear, people mired in their wickedness were suddenly overcome with remorse. Then they vanished. There were rumors, they were still around helping people, just less publically, and that you could contact them if you needed them."

"Why would they suddenly go from being as attention getting as possible to going stealth?"

Agasa shrugged. "No one could say for sure, but there was a new member of the team running around, one who seemed significantly younger. Some thought it was to protect the kid."

Conan felt his stomach churn. It all lined up. "Hakase...what would happen if they targeted the Organization."

Agasa thought for a moment. "They would, that's exactly the kind of evil they would have targeted. But they always went after individuals, not groups. And since no one knows what their methods are, it would be hard to say. But it hardly matters, Shinichi. No ones heard from them in a decade."

But that wasn't true. He had heard from them that very afternoon. The Phantom Thieves of Heart were real and they were on a collision course with the Black Organization.

#Detective Conan #P5 #The Stray #Ghost Writing #In case it isn't clear #The Stray is Takagi's codename

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antisepticcrayon · 1 year

Text

Posting here too! Just so I can give a longer explanation a bit for the few pieces I've been able to scramble for Sean.

Now I'm not the best at drawing people so it's very rare that I get to try to draw fanart for Sean and the community but I'll share the few I've been able to do!

Starting with the spring banner I made for Sean's server! Has to be one of my favorites becos I loved how it turned out and the fact that I somehow won the banner contest. It's always such a funny shock to go onto the server and see my art there. I've never been so proud of an accomplishment like that.

Next up is the Chase brody youtooz plush concept. Now I did this for kicks and giggles (/hj. Please Sean. We need sad dad plushies.) But it was pretty funny that that reference sheet got way more attention than I thought. And at the time of iris being fairly new was also so funny to me. He looks so sad. I need 17 of them.

King of the daisies portrait! My one piece of fanart that got the most recognition from the community! I spent a grueling 5-6 hours on this piece. It was during a time of art block so I wanted to try drawing realism for a month (didn't go exactly a month but I tried!) And this was my second attempt of the month and it came out so well. I absolutely adore it. And the inspiration came from when Sean announced that white daisies were his favorite flowers. So of course to honor the flow3r king, I did that for him. (Also another reason the banner, he's wearing a daisy crown!)

And finally the anti portrait. This one I made at work actually right before I was contacted for winning a meet and greet ticket to face time Sean through moment house. And to calm my nerves for the next couple days, I worked on this piece. (I referenced an art piece done by turquoise magpie I believe for this one!) But also another part of my month realism challenge!

The 2 realistic portraits hold a special place in my heart. Becos even through the horrendous wifi (and my uncontrollable anxiety) and cutting out during my meet and greet, I had the chance to show him them. I just didn't get to hear or see his reactions properly but the fact I showed him at all for him to see was more than enough.

Annnd then these last art pieces (I'm frankly TERRIFIED of showing. Unsure if it counts as fanart buttt)

These first 2 photos are reference pieces for my "JJ" inspired OC/Fursona. He is considered my comfort character who I tend to draw and doodle whenever I'm feeling down or having a bad day. Jameson (and chase) are my favorite egos and I find comfort in them. Not sure why, but I do. I feel like they just came at times I was struggling the most and brought joy to me though. Just Sean in general has done as such.

And the last photo is a book cover I created for a short story I'm writing with my self insert OC and chase Brody (along with the other egos).

The short story takes part of a community I'm in that surrounds giant/smalls/humans folklore and certain cultures surrounding a time of creatures big and small, Aka G/T! Think of any fairy tales like jack and beanstalk or even japenese animes like the secret world of ariety or movies and books like "The borrowers". (Another comfort for me. I find writing helpful as well for bad days and to also center and express myself again)

Anyways one of my favorite human pieces I've ever completed on my own through lots of practice and failed sketches (my good friend zora rendered and shaded it for me! Actual drawing, linework and coloring done by me!)

Anyways, I hope I'm not overstaying my welcome so I'll cut it off here!

I thank you both for doing this revival! I was never able to participate truely with "septicart" but I'm glad I can right now through this :)

Thanks for reading!

- Dj💜

(I apologize if my wording is wacky! ADHD and dyslexia isn't a fun combination when trying to write and explain things ack)

@turquoisemagpie @rogue-of-broken-time

#SepticartRevival2023 #septicart #jacksepticeye fanart #jacksepticeye

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ask-serendipity-sky · 8 months

Note

https://twitter.com/henjiku1975/status/1706807847294550143?t=digyXOeg6b3-sroR3lpYag&s=19

Thoughts on this but it's giving major gaslighting where army chants this to make them feel better and project the solos are bad narrative, like don't get me wrong but I would rather associate myself with pjms instead of army like those jm solos were not joking like they managed to close that big of a gap in a small time and still keeps his music charting with no other support either from the fandom or the company...

https://x.com/henjiku1975/status/1706807847294550143?s=20

youtube

Hi anon,

I have thoughts on this. I had seen bits of it before but watching it all makes it so much worse. It's garbage.

This person made a whole video to gaslight people into thinking that what happened to Jimin and others is normal. She blames it on the target audience and the type of promotion.

According to her, the only problem that Jimin had was not paying for radio...which is illegal and not something BTS would do. She never talked about the things that happened to Jimin's album like separating the 2 versions of Like Crazy, Hanteo deletions, albums not being shipped on time, etc.

But she did say that Jimin had to have 9 days of promo because Suga needed to enlist...but it took him 6 months?

There is no sabotage, no shady practices, no unfairness, no payola. Just a different intended audience and that's why things didn't work out.

She never focused on the fact that ONE member is receiving much more support than the other six. Jk and Yoongi are probably her biases. They have gotten things served in a golden platter.

She sounds a whole lot like the people who come to my blog to rant about me hating BTS, that I'm a Jk anti, Jimin akgae, etc, and that solos will never win over army and all that purple goodness. Army garbage.

I'm with you. Although I'm not a fan of labels, I have no problem being called a pjm because that is literally a "fan of Jimin". It's what I am. I have no problem doing what pjm fanbases say because it's better than what army is doing.

Solos are not the bad people. Akgaes are. But like I said back when I first opened this blog, the lines have blurred and people can no longer recognize between the two words and use them interchangeably.

If you are a fan of labels, you should remember this: solo =/= akgae.

Solo is a fan who focuses entirely on their bias.

Akgae is a problematic fan who focuses on their bias and HATES everyone else.

There is nothing wrong with focusing on just what you like. Its normal human behavior. The mentality that you have to like everything and everyone is flawed and impossible.

Army keeps painting pjms as the bad people because army has a problem with Jimin. Even here on tumblr, I'm called a solo and akgae because I obviously bias Jimin when there are other accounts that have a very obvious bias and they don't get called out. Because only Jimin biased people are problematic to army.

Army is simply not appreciative of Jimin enough for me. They ignore him. They allow him to be the reason for jokes and disgusting accusations. They sexualize him. They don't stop the hateful poison from tkkrs and other solos. They use him as a cheerleader and accessory. They blame him. They view him as weak and he is only useful to them when fighting other fandoms.

They bully their own member. They rather have anyone else other than Jimin.

Why in the world would any Jimin fan want to associate with them?

Like you said, the moment Jimin fanbases got organized, we started closing the gap. It WILL get done and he WILL get that award.

It won't be because of army. It will be because of pjms, primarily, and other Jimin fans.

But when he gets that award, everyone will be posting pretty Jimin and how proud they are to be his fan.

This fandom is a joke.

Thank you for sharing.

#jimin #jikook

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tracybirds · 1 year

Text

For @thunder-pride 's second prompt day: "I'm proud of you", but also inspired by and following on from @avengedbiologist 's fic found here. Also borrowing her headcanon that Lee and Lucille are siblings from a large family full of L named siblings bc yes 😂💕💕

Written almost entirely on my phone on a daytrip to Hamilton so please excuse any errors - I'm posting on a phone with literally 1% battery LOL

---

His homecoming was everything he'd dreamed of, full of joy and love and the gleeful shriek of a toddler thrown into the air. Jeff held Scott close, wrapping an arm around his wife as he stared in awe down at the sleeping baby she was gently rocking back and forth.

"There he is," he breathed in wonder, hardly daring to reach out and brush back the shock of red hair.

"There he is," Lucille agreed mildly. "Worth waiting for, Daddy?"

"I wish I could have been here."

A tiny hand closed around his finger and Jeff swallowed thickly.

"UNCLE LEE!"

Scott's shout sent his ears ringing and he looked up to see Lee peel away from the swarm of reporters and make his way towards the family.

"Hey Steven," he said reaching out to ruffle Scott's hair, sending him into peals of laughter.

"It's Scott!" protested the toddler but Lee only pulled a face, making him giggle even more.

"And hey to you, sis," he said, beaming at Lucille. "Got a second to share the newest nephew with your big brother?"

"Honestly Lee, you're less than ten minutes older, it hardly counts," she said rolling her eyes.

"You tell that to a racecar champ, see what they say," he retorted as he leant down. "Oh wow, the kid's something special, isn't he?"

"He sure is," said Jeff. "You did good Luce."

"How old's Jim now?"

"John," said the parents as one.

"Honestly, Lee," added Lucille. "How do you expect to be the favourite uncle if you don't even remember their names?"

Lee waved a hand. "I already had to learn all of Laura and Leonard's kids' names," he complained. "You can't expect me to keep track."

"I keep track just fine," pointed out Lucille with a suppressed smile. "And look out because Lily's pregnant now too, remember?"

Lee slapped a hand across his forehead. "Dang it, I'd forgotten she'd said that in the last vid. Is that why she's glaring at me?"

"Better go find out," said Jeff with a grin. "Hey Scott, want to go help Lee win Aunty Lily over with that cute smile of yours?"

"Yeah!" said Scott, his feet wriggling as he tried to escape Jeff's grip.

Lee gave Jeff a significant glance as he grabbed the toddler's hand, and Jeff felt his mouth go dry.

He knew what Lee was silently suggesting but the timing felt all wrong.

"Jeff, honey?" Lucille asked gently, seeing the shadow that had fallen over his eyes.

"We need to talk," he said in a low voice, trying not to look around at the reporters and give them any hint of a story. He didn't fancy causing anytime of spectacle. "Not here. And nothing bad," he added hastily. "Just important to me."

Lucille reached out and squeezed his hand. "If it's important to you, it's important to me," she said with a firm voice. "Do I need to beg off Mom and Dad's dinner? John's got quite a voice on him; he'll probably start screaming the minute he wakes up, we can use that."

"Don't be silly, Luce," said Jeff, kissing her cheek. "Your parenrs went to a lot of effort, especially with Ma and Pa's flight out here delayed."

"Who's being silly? You stay here with the baby and toddler and I'll go to Mars next time. Is it so wrong I want you all to myself instead of smiling over a celebratory dinner?"

As though he could sense his mother's sharp words, John stirred and opened his eyes to see his father - little more than a stranger - staring down at him. He wrenched his small hand from Jeff's pinky and screwed up his face to let out an almighty wail.

"Oh no, Johnny," said Lucille, frantically scooping him up into her arms and unsuccessfully attempting to soothe hum. "Jeff?" she said desparately.

Jeff hurried over to make their excuses at once, noting the family's knowing looks of sympathy and realising that this must not unusual for his second son. Lily looked faintly disquueted, while Lee held nothing back and clamping his hands over his ears as he near shouted his goodbyes.

"Mommy says Johnny has big feelings," said Scott solemnly as Jeff reached down and hoisted him up onto his hip. "But I think they're just loud."

The journey back to Lucille's parents' house where they would be staying was short, yet when Jeff compared it to the long months in space he knew which he preferred. It didn't take long for John's screams, which seemed even louder in the enclosed space, to get under Scott's skin and before he knew it, Jeff had two wailing children in the back seat, while his wife deftly climbed over to sit between them and provide what little comfort she could. He face was drawn tight and Jeff gripped the steering wheel as he glanced in the rearview mirror at her. His heart constricted in his chest, knowing she'd been left to parent their children without him these long months. It was abundantly clear that where Scott had been calm and easy-going, John was determined to throw as many curveballs into the mix. He finally quieted as they pulled into the drive and Jeff said nothing as he collected Scott and set him down in his high chair.

"Peas, Daddy?" asked Scott with wide eyes, and Jeff dutifully doled out half a cup of frozen peas.

"I need to go help Mommy now, be a good, bave boy for me, Scott, and hold tight. I'll get you the rest of dinner soon," he promised.

Lucille hadn't moved, head tipped back in clear exhaustion. She opened an eye as he leaned down next to the open car door.

"So how's Mom doing? Truthfully, without the cameras and your parents watching?"

She stifled a sob and it was all Jeff could do not to cram himself into Scott's toddler seat to comfort her.

"Oh, it's silly," she said, choking back tears. "He's wonderful really, I love him so much. I should have warned you, Johnny's just so very easily startled and you should have seen how he cried when we first introduced Mom and Dad to him, but once he starts he just doesn't stop and..."

She gasped and burst out crying again, and Jeff gently drew her out of the car.

"It's okay, Luce," said Jeff. "So he's wary of strangers, that's not so bad. Didn't we always say we wished Scott were just a little more frightened of them - remember when he wandered off with that old man at the grocery store?"

Lucille stifled a laugh. "Or that six year old at the lake who wanted to 'adopt' him?"

"Exactly," said Jeff. "We can't pretend each of our kids won't have their own challenges. Although one day, John's going to do amazing things with that voice and we'll get to watch him and be so glad he never stopped."

Lucille nodded. "I know, Jeff I do. But oh, it's been so awful being here for the last week and not at home. I love Mom, I do, but she's been driving me up the wall. If she comments on how we're raising the kids, or how you should be here or..."

"What?" asked Jeff, stricken as his blood ran cold. "She said that."

Lucille faltered. "She's not right, Jeff. We agreed, this was our decision."

"Is she wrong, Lu? Look at you, this has been an awful time for you."

"I'm fine," protested Lucille. "It's worse than usual with so many new people around and John frightened and Scott grouchy and..."

"Oh, heck, Scott," groaned Jeff. "I only gave him his peas."

"Oh Jeff, not the peas, Mom's convinced he'll choke on them, I promised not to give them to him."

"Go," he assured her. "I'll sort John out."

It was hours later when they finally sat down with their own dinner, freshly microwaved. John was fast asleep in the travel cot in their room and Scott playing on the floor in front of them. Jeff dropped his head against Lucille's shoulder.

"This is the life," he murmured, stifling a yawn.

Lucille hummed in agreement, silently gathering the plates to dump in the kitchen sink.

"Dad can deal with them," she muttered as she stretched out next to Jeff. "He owes me."

She reached up and patted Jeff's cheek.

"Now, don't think I've forgotten. You said you had an important thing to discuss."

Jeff was suddenly wide awake, his insides strangling themselves.

"Now?"

Lucille shrugged. "Why not? Kids are calm, family's out. I don't feel like waiting until we're back in Kansas, not if it's important to you."

Jeff shrugged. "Seems less important now. It's just you have a lot of time for introspection when you're several months out from Mars. And your brother kept me up at night with his snoring."

Lucille narrowed her eyes. "You're stalling," she accused. "Out with it, Jefferson Tracy."

"No laughing," he warned. "It's really not a big deal."

She crossed her hand over her heart, waiting expectantly.

Jeff took a deep breath.

"It's just that, well, I'm bisexual," he said in a rush. "I don't know why it suddenly became so clear to me, but there you have it."

He peeked up into Lucille's dark brown eyes. They were shining with warmth.

"Oh Jeff," she whispered. "How wonderful."

He blinked. "It's nothing special."

She smacked his shoulder lightly. "Don't be dense," she exclaimed. "What a wonderful discovery for you. Isn't is so incredible that you know yourself better now?"

He smiled shyly, warming to her enthusiasm. "I hadn't thought of it like that," he admitted softly. "I told Lee. The idea had been bouncing around in my head up there and I just had to say it out loud."

"Of course you did," she said. "It's the truth, isn't it? It's so hard to keep the truth contained sometimes."

She kissed him, her lips curving into a smile on his skin. "I'm so proud of you, honey," she whispered.

"Proud of you too, Daddy," announced Scott loudly, and they startled apart. Scott climbed onto the couch, beaming. "So proud," he declared. "Mommy says she's proud of me for walking 'cross the road nicely. Did you do that too?"

Jeff laughed and hugged his eldest son.

"Something like that."

#scott tracy #jeff tracy #lucille tracy #john's there but he only cries lol #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #thunderpride

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thommi-tomate · 5 months

Text

Interview with Sepp Maier

By:Sport1

Mr. Maier, how do you look back on the football year 2023?

With a lot of emotion. It started with Manuel Neuer's serious injury, which he sustained on his skiing vacation. That was a shock, of course. But one thing is clear: Manu never took too many risks. I never doubted Manu's comeback afterwards. He's such a great goalkeeper, he just had to come back. Of course, it was sad when FC Bayern parted ways with Julian Nagelsmann. It came as a surprise, but perhaps it was unavoidable. Overall, it wasn't FC Bayern's year.

The Munich team also said goodbye to leading personalities prematurely. Looking back, how do you view the departure of Hasan Salihamidžić and Oliver Kahn?

Of course, that was a big personnel shake-up. Brazzo tore himself apart for FC Bayern, I'm sure of that. And maybe Olli didn't fit into the manager's chair. He certainly gave his all for the club, because he has a deep red Bayern heart. The way Uli settled accounts with Olli afterwards was certainly not good. That was Uli at his best again.

What was your personal highlight?

Manu's return in the home game against Darmstadt 98 is clear. I never understood the whole drama, nor why other goalkeepers were traded in the first place. And my opinion of Yann Sommer is well known: I would never have signed him. I'm happy for him that he's now performing so well again at Inter Milan. But Sommer wasn't one for FC Bayern. A small highlight was certainly the double contract extension of Manuel Neuer and Sven Ulreich recently. FC Bayern showed its old strength. That was a great move.

For the first time in many years, FC Bayern is not first at the end of the year, but sees Bayer Leverkusen at the top of the table. How much does that make your Bayern heart ache?

That hurts a bit - and it's also really unusual. But it has to be acknowledged without envy that Leverkusen deserve it. They have set a new record with 25 unbeaten competitive matches across all competitions, which is quite a remarkable run. Xabi Alonso would be a great coach for FC Bayern, he's doing an excellent job at Leverkusen. The way football is played there makes every fan click their tongue. It's unparalleled even in Europe. And honestly? I wouldn't have put it past Alonso.

Will Leverkusen even become German champions in the end?

I still believe that Bayern will be champions again in the end, but it hasn't been as difficult as this season for a long time. Thomas Tuchel must get the players back on track immediately in the new year. Bayern must not weaken for a single minute. Otherwise that's it for the title. But there are also quite a few people who would begrudge Bayer Leverkusen the title. If only because of Alonso. That would also put an end to this stupid "Vizekusen" (second-kusen or also his english equivalent neverkusen)

Thomas Müller has extended his contract with FC Bayern until 2025 ahead of the last game of the year. It wasn't a complete surprise, how did you take it?

With great joy. But I also firmly assumed that Thomas would stay, he's simply a Bayern legend. Müller is such a good guy and a really good player. The way he performs on and off the pitch is wonderful and I pay him a lot of respect for that. Müller hasn't always had it easy with Tuchel, but he's taken it professionally. I'm sure Tuchel also liked his attitude. Thomas Müller lives and breathes FC Bayern. The interview after the 3-0 win against VfB Stuttgart was 100 percent Müller. He was funny and totally clear with what he said. You can't imagine him at any other club anyway. Like with me back then.

Is Müller the Gerd Müller of today?

Absolutely. Thomas Müller is the Gerd Müller of modern times. There's nothing more to say. Gerd would be proud that Thomas has extended his contract again.

What makes Müller so unique?

His professionalism and his authentic and funny manner. I can only repeat myself: he's just a really good guy and a great footballer.

But Müller will probably replace you as the record player - does that annoy you?

Not at all. I'd rather have Thomas than someone from BVB (laughs). It will happen and he is a worthy successor. I wish him all the best. He will have earned it.

Harry Kane has scored 21 goals in 15 league games. An incredible rate, isn't it?

Absolutely. In the summer, you could assume that things would work out with him and Bayern, but his performance is already exceptionally good. There are almost no words. The special thing about Kane is that he also works for others and shows how much he has already internalized FC Bayern. He's good for the Bundesliga. Kane is clearly more valuable than Lewandowski.

Finally, let's take a look ahead to next year's European Championship at home. What are your thoughts on the tournament?

I have mixed feelings about the home European Championships. Of course it's something very special. And it will be a very important tournament, especially for Julian Nagelsmann. He can win everything, but he can also lose everything. One thing is clear: the team must improve. We won't get through the preliminary round with performances like the recent ones against Turkey and Austria. Then we'll fail badly, but I'm thinking positively. The closer we get to the European Championship, the more euphoria there will be in Germany. It will be similar to 2006.

Julian Nagelsmann recently hinted in the ZDF sports studio that he could imagine bringing Toni Kroos back to the national team. What is your opinion?

I wouldn't bring Kroos back. I don't think it's good for him to play for the national team again. He's had his time. We have many other talented players in his position who can help the team. It's a popular topic for the media, but I wouldn't call Kroos up again. That doesn't mean he's not a great player and hasn't done anything for German football.

Meanwhile, Marc-André ter Stegen is fighting for the number one spot in the German national team, but is currently injured. Who will be in goal for Germany at the European Championships?

Manuel Neuer. Ter Stegen is a very good goalkeeper, but Manu is on the way to his old form, so there is no doubt who will be number 1 at the European Championship in Germany.

Final question: After 17 months of proceedings, the European Court of Justice has given the green light for the establishment of the Super League. Are you pleased about this?

Of course not. Nobody needs the Super League, there is already the Champions League for the big clubs, many national leagues and then the Nations League. The Super League will turn football into a two-tier society. I see that with great concern.

#sepp maier #manuel neuer #xabi alonso #bayer 04 leverkusen #fc bayern münchen #thomas müller #gerd müller #harry kane #german nt #toni kroos #interview

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buckyr00s · 2 years

Text

Love Languages || m."f".g

pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x Reader

warnings/tags: can be read independently but can also be a sequel to The Meet-Cute; TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

author's note: Again, this is way longer than I anticipated LOL I said this once and i'll say it again, I have RUINED men for myself in the way I've been dreaming about our sweet baby Fanboy. The standards are now ASTRONOMICALLY HIGH. Big shoutout to @rad-topgunn for helping me get out of my writers block. There's a reason why #rad is the real MVP is a tag I use a lot!

main masterlist || send requests

Mickey Garcia is the type of person who is not particularly fond of flowery, over-the-top, grand gestures. He finds them quite cringey if he’s being completely transparent.

Instead, he firmly believes that multiple tiny, but so very meaningful gestures go a longer way.

He owes a lot to his mom. In more ways than one. But in the love-department, she really set the standard.

She was the one who lead by example, showing her babyboy the importance of compassion, patience, and the constant effort to win someone’s heart.

So as soon as you met him and every day ever since, he’s made it his mission to win your heart, and when he did, his goal has been to keep it.

He’s not really a casual-dating type of person. It might be his upbringing but he is dating for marriage.

So, he holds you and your heart with gentleness. He simultaneously sees the world—his world—in you and wants to give you the world.

He absolutely makes it his goal to shower you in his love and admiration. He sprinkles it all through the day.

There’s something about the challenge of making your heart flutter that he welcomes so openly and takes very seriously. It’s the same feeling you give him every time he thinks of you…which is often. The thought of you feeling butterflies because of him? A source of utter pride and joy.

It's the little things for Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia that amount to a lot.

It's the small reminders that he tells you he loves you.

Words of Affirmation

Mickey is the type of person who refuses to throw the "L" word out liberally. Instead, he'll say in other way.

He is such an observant person. He is one of the best WSOs the US Navy has every seen for that very reason. So, a lot of time, when he sees even the slightest oddity in your mood or behaviour, he'll check in on you. He also just really wants to know.

"How are you feeling?"

"Is everything okay?"

"How was your day?"

He genuinely loves to listen to anything you have to say. Again, being an observant person and one of the best WSOs, he naturally strives to take in as much information as possible. That's especially true because you are one of the most important parts of his life.

And because he's very observant and genuinely very interested, his very much an active listener. Whenever you tell him a story, he'll nod, shake his head, roll his eyes, sigh--all depending on the situation, and all affirming your feelings and experiences.

"Right. Right."

"No she didn't"

"That was not okay,"

And he'll always end these types of conversations with a beautifully genuine smile and a "thank you for sharing this with me".

"Fanboy" is a multi-layered call sign. Mickey is your biggest fan, and will be so encouraging in anything you do.

"Go for it!"

"You've got this"

"I'm so proud of you"

He often uses terms of endearment. His go-tos are "love" and "baby". His favourite, though, is "mi cielo" (my sky/heaven).

Because yours and Mickey's schedule are often busy and conflicting, he definitely leaves little notes around the place for you to find.

"Have a great day :)" he'll place a sticky note on his pillow when he has an early morning and had to run without kissing you goodbye.

"Drive safe!" he'll write on a scrap piece of paper and place it on the overhead sun visor in your car.

"Thinking of you," he'll text in the middle of a busy day to let you know.

That all being said, he was definitely the first one to say "I love you." And when he does say it, he really, really means it.

Physical Touch

Mickey enjoys physical touch but is definitely not a PDA type of person.

He uses physical touch more like a non-verbal communication to comfort or affirm and reaffirm you.

In public, he loves to hold your hand, giving you an occasional squeeze to let you know so many things without even saying a word. I've got you. I'm here. I'm glad you're here too. I love you.

In private, he can be a pretty affectionate person.

HUGS. Especially embraces where he'll just hold you in his arms, his chin rested on your head. The perfect position to kiss the top of your head.

Speaking of kisses...he probably can't choose a single favourite. Other than your lips, he'll enjoy a forehead kiss. A kiss on the neck. A kiss on your hands.

He loves a good cuddle.

His favourite cuddle position is probably when he's on his back. Your legs are intertwined, your arm draped over his torso, and your head on his chest. For him, there's something about you clinging to him that he loves so much. It makes him feel wanted--needed, even.

He's also down for a good spoon. Most of the time, he's the big spoon because he loves to hold you in his arms. Again, he loves the feeling of keeping you safe.

But when he is a little spoon, he enjoys it wholeheartedly. You holding him in your arms gives him butterflies and makes him giddy. He likes it a lot but will probably never admit it to you because he loves holding you and knows you love being held.

Ultimately, him holding you and you holding him brings him great comfort. Especially because when he isn't deployed, physical touch lets him know you are really there. That he is with you and you are with him. Sometimes it all feels like a dream to him. He often wonders how he's gotten so lucky. And if he's dreaming it all. And physical touch grounds him in reality.

Gifts

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia loves to SPOIL the ones he loves.

He's a big fan--all puns intended--of buying you flowers.

Bringing them home after work with a "honey, I'm home".

Sending them to you in the middle of the day with a note.

"Thinking of you" it will say when he's stationed elsewhere.

"This is your reminder to stop and smell the roses" it will say in a particularly busy day or week.

Fanboy is not just a fan of pop culture stuff, but I genuinely think he's a pretty nerdy guy. I imagine that he's really into learning new things, reading books, watching documentaries. So, you'll often find random books appearing around your shared apartment with little notes attached.

"I remember you talking about this"

"I think you'll enjoy this"

"This reminds me of you"

"This reminds me of us"

In general, I think he'd buy little things that remind him of you. And yes, that includes fan merch like graphic tees and Funko Pops.

But he'll buy big things too. Like a large stuffed toy that he'll say you can cuddle with when he's gone. He'll even give you a bottle of his cologne to spray onto it.

And if you read my first fic, you know this man is a sucker for making mixtapes. He loves music and enjoys compiling songs that remind him of you, of your relationship, and the things he wants you to know and feel.

He'd give you the world if he could. In fact he's made if his life-long mission to try.

Quality Time

Quality time is Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia's primary love language. You can't convince me otherwise!!!

As his callsign suggests, he is a BIG fanboy. He's part of multiple fandoms and most of all he's a big fan of you.

You share common interests, so whenever an event or opportunity comes up, he'll think of you and will ask you if you would like to go with him. It's a win-win for him, to be honest. Spending time with his love and indulging in his interests? Amazing!

"They're in town next weekend! Do you want me to get us tickets?"

"The new movie is out! Are you free to go to the midnight screening?"

When you're both free, he loves to plan vacations with you. Being the amazing nerd he is, going on holidays is never just about going to the tourist-y places, but actually enjoying the local people, areas, food, histories, and cultures.

He is also absolutely content with staying in with you and just spending time together.

Especially because he gets deployed, he cherishes every second he gets to spend with you.

His favourite thing to do is settle on the couch with you, cuddle in a blanket, and binge-watch shows and movies.

He'll also make sure that he documents everything. He loves taking candid pictures of you.

"Say cheese" he'll tell you when you turn around to check why he isn't walking beside you anymore.

"Wait. Stay right there. The light is hitting you perfectly." he'll rush to find the perfect frame.

And even when you two are separated by distance, he'll make sure to squeeze in any free time he has to take a quick video call--or two--with you.

Most of the time, it's when he's commuting from place to place.

"Hi love," he'll glance at you on his phone screen, flashing you with his beautiful smile before quickly turning his attention back on the road.

"Hi baby," you'll respond. "Why is your shirt off?" you laugh at the strange circumstance.

"On my way to the beach. Something about team training," he'll tell you casually before his car comes to a stop at a red light. "Why? Are you complaining?" he'll wink.

What else can I say? The man comes alive when he's with people he loves. Especially you. It's one of his greatest joys.

Acts of Service

Acts of service is also one of his more prominent love languages--I mean, this man has dedicated a lot of his life to be in service of others.

He DEEPLY wants to provide for those he loved ones. And that includes you.

Feeling particularly tired and need a few extra minutes of sleep? He's an early bird anyway, but he will not hesitate to put the kettle on and make you breakfast.

Spent most of the day staring at a screen and working? He'll bring you sliced fruit and a glass of water.

Love washing and drying clothes but hate folding them and putting them away? He's your man.

Again, this man is so perceptive and observant.

And my goodness, he takes INITIATIVE.

There are so many little things that you don't even need to ask him to do, he'll do them for you. Sometimes you don't even know you need certain things until he provides it for you.

He notices that your milk is running low, so when he's free, he'll run to the store and grab it for you.

He notices that you left your little things like a USB stick, a hair tie, your favourite pen in random places in your shared apartment and will put it somewhere you will find it.

He notices when you're having a particularly tough week so he'll do something to comfort you.

He'll set up a little candlelit dinner in your shared apartment.

He'll take you out to ice cream after a long day.

He'll plan out activity dates.

He'll arrange trips and the playlists that accompany them.

His goal is to be someone you can depend on. The perfect life long-partner.

In all things said and unsaid, he loves you.

author's note: LORD WHEN IS IT MY TURN?!

main masterlist || send requests

#mickey fanboy garcia hc #mickey garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy x reader

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bg-sparrow · 6 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I'm finally getting around to doing this after @professorsaber, @mythical-bookworm, and @daryfromthefuture tagged me! Sorry for the delay (it's been a week)!

Under the cut because it seems I felt the need to write my life story today as it relates to my body of fan work. :)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I'm currently sitting at 51.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

650,606 (of which 58K are shared with co-authors)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Predominantly Back to the Future with a lot of Pirates of the Caribbean, Iron Man, and National Treasure in my rearview mirror. I've also contributed one-shots/ small works to 19 other fandoms over the years!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

What to Expect When She's Expecting - (137) - Iron Man

Where You Were (Time Circuits #3) - (95) - BttF

Where You're Going (Time Circuits #1) - (72) - Bttf

Principles of Compromise - (70) - Pirates of the Caribbean

A Fracture in the Space-time Continuum - (69) - BttF

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Most definitely! I love interacting with the people who have taken the time to read and comment on my work, even if it's a simple thank you!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooo hoo hoo. I might have to poll some people for this one. My first reaction would be There Are No Roads (Time Circuits #2.5), but as the ending is technically an alternate series of events, I'm not sure it counts as an official 'end'. I'm big proud of it, though, because most initial reactions were somewhere along the lines of "oh my GOD." :)

That being the case, Once Upon a Time in the West wins hands down, mostly because I didn't even see the plot twist coming until the fourth chapter of this six-chapter fic! And it delivered an epic sequel!

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oof. Don't come at me like this; I'm just now realizing how much angst I really write because I've narrowed it down to maybe two of my Ao3 fics? Sheesh.

I'm going to go with the only 5+1 fic I've ever written, The Manner of Giving. It was five times Marty failed at giving Doc a gift, and the one time (the end) is when he succeeded.

Where You Were (Times Circuits #3) also gets a nod because it's the end of my trilogy rewrite, and I like to think I ended it on the happy note everyone deserved.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've never gotten a scathing flame of a review, thank goodness. I did have someone ask me on FFN once why I was writing an OC for Marty when he had Jennifer in canon, and while it was tempting to just say "don't like, don't read," we ended up exchanging a mature and constructive dialogue and respectfully parted ways.

I also once, long ago, before I ever planned to seriously pursue writing, had one of my fics added to a "Worst of the Worst" fandom collection on FFN. It was a terrible fic written by an inexperienced teenager, but I still find something like that distasteful and uncalled for, mostly because, as the author, I wasn't able to remove my work from the collection. And it's still there. And I'm still mad about it. Oddly, it's ensured I hold myself to a high standard and never put anything out there that could be considered for a "Worst of the Worst" collection again. So, screw that guy, and thank you.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. I've never wanted a tell a story where that was essential to the story. Now, I've recently included/ alluded to more mature situations in the last year for the first time in my 20 years of writing to get me out of my comfort zone, but no graphic, extended scenes.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have! And the craziest crossover I have is FFHQ. Imagine all the characters in all the fandoms in one giant office park drawing up contracts to appear in fics, meeting with fanfic authors, collaborating on crossovers, etc. It's a lot of paperwork, meaning each character has a secretary. That's a lot of secretaries, so there is a list of "subs" who fill in as floaters when a secretary is out, and this crazy crossover follows three OCs as they bounce around random fandoms each day. This baby is my crackfic, the idea I escaped to in those eight years of depression when I wasn't doing so hot. If you're up for it, I promise it's lots of fun!

Honorable mention goes to the BttF/Elf AU I wrote for our server's Secret Santa exchange last year: Pennies From Heaven.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

*inserts Ben Affleck smoking meme*

Yes. And it's… I'm just very over this form of "flattery".

When I was still in high school, I was writing a pretty successful National Treasure fic when a reader told me they found the story on another site. The person who stole it was writing author notes at the beginning, like "Find out what happens to them next time! I've got great stuff in the works!" I emailed that website, and they kindly took it down and banned that user.

Last year, I had someone on Wattpad steal the Time Circuits Series, rename it the "Flux Capacitor Series", and switched out Emma's name with "Dawn". Two things that had me cackling: When I have Marty call Emma "Em," Marty was calling Dawn "Da," and you could see several places where Emma's name wasn't backspaced all the way out of the text. I confronted the "author", and they wisely took it down, telling me it was just so hard to write it themselves. You bet your ass I have this person still on my alerts list to keep an eye on them, and once a month, I am searching Wattpad for my own fics.

Novel HD/ Novel WW also stole Time Circuts off Wattpad for their website, scrubbed my name from it so that it said it was written by "Anonymous", and put the stories behind paywalls. I caught wind of this about a quarter of the way into the last story and took everything I had off Wattpad. I saved the links but they no longer work, and I can't even access the website anymore. I'm not sure if it's gone or if, because it is a foreign site, they somehow blocked our region from accessing it.

I also had FictionHunt take all of my stuff off FFN! It took several months, but I finally got them to remove my stuff from their site. I might not have minded so much if they had asked me, but that's too hard, I suppose.

There was one website called MovieFanficChains way back in 2005 I gave permission to to host my PotC fics, but aside from FFN and Ao3, that the only place with my permission to have my stuff.

If you see my work elsewhere and it has not been linked back to me, let me know. I'll do the same for you. :)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've done a few roleplays with @daryfromthefuture, where I wrote for Doc and she wrote for Marty. Our most well-known roleplay-turned-fic would be the 1885 scarlet fever sickfic Lean on Me (When You're Not Strong).

I've also been part of the silly blind writing game in our Discord server aptly named Back to the Future: Discord.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I don't know. This is hard. I'm a romantic, and I make the excited Andy Dwyer face every time a ship is hinted at. I have so many I love, but the mainstream ones that immediately come to mind are Tony/Pepper (Iron Man), Sherlock/Molly (BBC Sherlock), Jamie/Brienne (Game of Thrones), and Reylo (Star Wars).

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I wrote a National Treasure story in high school called Another Clue, and it was one of my first real attempts at an OC insert. It did fairly well, given my talents at the time; I incorporated an OC, but I focused on crafting a canon-like treasure hunt more, and a lot of people complimented that.

So I started a sequel, One More Clue. It built a bigger story around the first, highlighting a treasure hunt that required the help of a rival and two friends seemingly trying to out-betray one another. I got about 12 chapters and 69K into One More Clue before life took over. I last updated it on June 1, 2010, and I left it at quite the cliffhanger with Riley turning Ben into the FBI only to learn the FBI guy was working for the rival and UGH, I keep meaning to go back to it. I have all the notes!

The problem is, I would have to rewrite Another Clue at this point because it's a hot high schooler's mess. You could tell as I wrote One More Clue that I was applying what I was learning from my writing classes in college. While Another Clue didn't have that luxury, it showcases some strengths that compelled me to pursue a writing major (AKA I can make a decent history-driven treasure hunt).

So, while I could finish One More Clue if I really wanted to, it would be pointless unless I overhauled Another Clue first. Which I've thought about. Because National Treasure is my guilty pleasure. I'm just fairly certain no one would be around to appreciate it if I put all that work in now. :)

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've consistently been told it's dialogue, and I find myself agreeing with that. The single lines of dialogue that turn a whole story on its head or tell a whole story of their own are what I live for.

This is the DUMBEST example, but there is an episode of Spongebob Squarepants where Mrs. Puff is freaking out because she gave Spongebob his boating license just to finally get him out of her class, and she's spiraling. She arrives at "I'll have to change my name, move to another city, and open another boating school!" or something like that.

And then her voice just goes dead flat and her eyes narrow and she says, "No. Not again."

And I lose it every time! But you know there's a WHOLE story there just by that little bit of dialogue! I love that! And I love implementing it where I can, whether it be in a comedic or dramatic setting.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm wordy. When I give myself a word count goal for a project, it inevitably goes over, but it gets shaved down some in editing.

Thankfully, I got a hard lesson in this in one of my college writing classes. I turned in a prose-y poem I was quite proud of, and in the next class, the professor handed out copies to everyone. We proceeded to workshop (i.e. destroy) my work, whittling the word count down by half when it was all said and done. And while I was mortified at the time, I've since thanked my professor a few times for that day. That one lesson lives in my brain every day, and I am right back in that classroom every time I edit a work, trying to figure out what the most succinct wording is, what is un/necessary, and how to play with my line breaks. Criticism is daunting but so, so worth it if you can find the courage to apply it!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I did this for the first time in Once Upon a Time in the South. I have a headcanon that Buford's baby momma is a Spanish actress at a small theater in Pine City, and he had to get something from her. This woman speaks very little English, and it was a challenge to stay true to that because (a) I don't speak Spanish and (b) my brain just struggles a lot with foreign language translations. Me being me, I wanted the most accurate and realistic translations I could get, ones that didn't sound too formal. Then you add in the fact that it's 1893, so there's a time-period language barrier, too. Ultimately, I'm happy with the end result, but I don't see myself going out of my way to do this again.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Pirates of the Caribbean! What a fantastic playground in which to practice storytelling! What really got me hooked on this "I might try writing for real one day" thing was listening to the writer's commentary on The Curse of the Black Pearl DVD when I was 15.

Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio gave excellent insight to this story I was enamored with and how they came up with it! "We had Sparrow and Swann, so we figured we shouldn't give Will a bird name" cracked me up. They covered everything — what challenged them, what rules ("guidelines") they stuck to ("leave the kiss for the end"), stuff like that. But what lit me up was hearing the entire backstory while the credits rolled, about how Barbossa was Jack's first mate until Barbossa committed mutiny and all that jazz. There was so much story to the story! That was a big, big day that influenced me. :)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Oh, gosh. This is tough because the favoritism depends on the reason!

I'll forever love Principles of Compromise because after abandoning it several chapters from the end and not touching it for eight years, it was the first story I came back to and finished before returning to the Time Circuits Series. It was the first plot-heavy story with canon characters I attempted and completed (most of my works up until that point had been rewrites or headlined OCs). Finishing it was the stepping stone to all the writing I've since completed (30-some works)!

Favorite all time though? I'm a mom; you can't just ask me to pick a favorite kid, and this is just as mean. :)

(But for real, it's probably a tie between There Are No Roads (Time Circuits #2.5) and Once Upon a Time in the East )

Tagging @retro-hussy, @jowritesfanfiction, @writingwife-83, and anyone else who wants to play!

Thank you so much for tagging me, friends!! I don't know why, but I love doing these! Sorry again it took so long for me to get to. ❤️

#20 questions for fic writers #ask game #tag game #answered asks #fanfic #fanfic writing #fan fic writer #back to the future #pirates of the caribbean #national treasure #iron man #ao3 #bgsparrow

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stargazer-sims · 8 months

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Journal Entry #60

Journal Entry #59 // STORY INDEX

Yuri

At the beginning of September, Victor and I moved into our forever home.

We thought we might go in the middle of the month, but I knew Victor wanted to have time to begin training with his new coach before the start of the competitive snowboarding season, and I wanted to be settled into our house in time to celebrate my birthday, so I suggested that we should arrange to go sooner. Victor seemed surprised, but he was pleased, and it made me happy to offer something he genuinely wanted without feeling like I was doing it as some sort of repayment for an imaginary debt I owe him.

That's one truth I've come to realize over the course of this year; the debt really was imaginary. Victor loves me, and he does things for me because he wants to help me and make my life easier. He never expects me to repay him deed for deed. All he wants is for me to do my best to help him whenever I can.

Sometimes my best is quite a lot, and sometimes I’m not physically capable of doing much of anything. Either way, it’s okay. Not being able to do everything all the time doesn't make me a bad person or a failure as a husband, and I'm beginning to understand that it was only my insecurity and lack of self-worth that made me believe it did.

Learning to trust myself and to believe in my own abilities and my value as a person hasn't been easy. Some days, I struggle to find even one affirming thing to say, and that's when I know I need to ask for help.

Doing that was difficult at first, because I had to get over the hurdle of thinking that asking for even the smallest thing made me a burden to Victor or my family. Releasing the guilt and shame is an ongoing process, just like teaching myself to be more positive and self-confident is, but I'm determined to succeed. I owe it to everyone I love, and I owe it to me.

When I can't come up with an affirmation, Victor always knows what to do. Rather than simply saying something good about me and asking me to accept it, he challenges me to name something I accomplished during the previous few days. It might be something big like planning and cooking an entire meal on my own, or maybe it'll be something small like folding laundry or sending an email, but there's always something. Then, he gets me to stand in front of the full-length mirror in my room and congratulate myself aloud.

Initially, that felt like an utterly silly thing to do, but Victor told me his first coach used to get his students to do it before competitions. He said the coach used to tell them to look at themselves in the washroom mirror and tell themselves things like, “I am brave and I am strong. I want to win, but even if I don’t win this time, I won't give up trying.”

Now I look forward to my little early-morning pep talks. As ridiculous as this may sound, these days it actually feels good to look myself in the eyes and say something like that, because it's not just a rote exercise any more. I am brave and I am strong, and even if today's not my day, there's always tomorrow. It's an effort to pick myself up and keep going, but I won't quit, not when I've gotten this far.

Honestly, the thing I’m most proud of lately is eating. I still don’t really love consuming most foods, but eating feels less stressful to me now, and most of the time I’m able to look at food and think about eating without becoming anxious.

I'll admit, I have moments when I wish I could go back to formula and not have to put anything in my mouth. I still have my tube, and fresh formula is only as far away as the pharmacy, so the temptation is certainly there. When I feel like that, I have to remind myself of my goal and push through as best I can. Victor encourages me on my bad days too, and I always look at my sticker chart to remind me of the progress I've made so far.

Yes, for those who may be wondering, we did bring my sticker chart with us from Japan. Mama rolled it up and put it in one of those cardboard cylinders normally used for maps or architectural plans, and I carried it with me on the plane. it's hanging in our kitchen here in Willow Creek now.

If you're looking for an update on it, tomorrow is the twentieth of September — my twenty-sixth birthday, incidentally — and I'll only have twelve more days to go before I can say I've been formula-free for sixty consecutive days.

I’ve earned four small rewards so far, and in a couple of days I’ll earn the fifth one. I already know what it is, but Victor says we can’t bring it home until I complete this current ten-day stretch. It’s garden boxes, by the way. My previous reward was gardening tools, and the one before that was a book about growing vegetables.

I won’t be able to start my garden till next spring, but I’ve already picked out a spot for my boxes, and having the things now means a lot even if I have to wait to use them. Choosing what to grow and reading up on the best cultivation methods will keep me busy during the winter, and then I’ll be ready to plant my little crop when the time comes.

Victor says strawberries do well in this climate, so I think they’ll be first on my list. I’m already imagining eating strawberries I nurtured myself. Do you think love and hope will make them sweeter?

I haven’t even planted them yet and I have a whole multitude of emotions about them. Mostly, I’m excited. I’ve always wanted my own garden, but I pictured it as flowers, not vegetables and fruit. The idea that we have room here for both makes me happy, and I can hardly wait to grow my favourite Japanese lilies and hydrangea alongside my strawberries.

Anyway, please excuse me for getting slightly off-track. I was trying to tell you about my progress. Day sixty will be October first, and then I’ll get the big reward. I know what that’s going to be as well, and it is very big. Victor told me this morning. I guess he couldn’t keep the secret until my birthday, which is when he and my parents had evidently planned to tell me, but I forgive him. It was still a fantastic surprise, and to be fair, it’s a gift for both Victor and me, so I can’t blame him for being enthusiastic about it.

I’ll tell you exactly what it is in my next entry, but suffice it to say, keeping my eyes on this particular prize is going to motivate me through the next fortnight.

Unfortunately, even when I reach the sixty-day mark, I'll still have my tube for a few more weeks because my first appointment with Dr. Kim, my new specialist here in Willow Creek, isn't until the twenty-second of October. Meanwhile, I'm still having follow-up by way of video conferences with my nutritionist back in Kyoto, and Dr. Kasongo is technically still my doctor. When I finish my sixty days, I'll get to report my progress to them, and then Dr. Kasongo will probably write a letter to Dr. Kim to tell him I'm ready to have my tube removed.

Apparently, he can do it right there in his office in about five minutes. From what I understand, he'll numb the area with an injection of some sort of local anaesthetic, maybe something like the dentist uses, and then when I can't feel anything, he'll pull the device straight out. He'll put a dressing on the area, and we'll have to watch for any signs of infection for a week or so until the tube site heals closed.

According to the information sheet I read about G-tube removal, I'll have to rest a lot and eat several small meals of bland foods like rice and yogurt for the first forty-eight hours after it comes out, and I'll have to take showers instead of baths until the hole closes, but that's about it. It's not even supposed to be particularly painful. I'll have a scar, of course, but I can live with that.

Victor says it’ll be my badge of honour, a tangible reminder of having survived one of the toughest situations I’ve ever experienced.

“It’ll prove you’re a warrior,” he told me. “You fought the battle, and you came out on top. That’s the thing with courageous people, you know. They might be scared, but they don’t let their fear win.”

I will never, ever let my fear win again.

But, you’ve probably had enough of me going on about my health at this point, haven’t you? Let me rewind and tell you a bit about our lovely summer and about our move instead.

The biggest highlight of the summer for me was having everyone I love most all together in one place. I didn't think Victor would agree to stay at my parents' house. When Papa invited him, he said he'd have to think about it, and I was convinced he'd say no, but I'm glad he decided to take Papa up on his offer in the end. We shared my old room, and even though we’re married and it's totally normal for us to sleep in the same bed, somehow this felt like I was a teenager having a sleepover with my boyfriend every night.

Victor and I spent a lot of time together, going for long walks and visiting parts of town we hadn't seen in a while. We went to the public onsen in Kiyomatsu several times, and we visited the local shrine. On sunny days, we usually packed our lunch and ate it down by the lake. I've taken a liking to eating outside, and now I want a picnic table in the back yard so we can enjoy meals outdoors here as well.

Aside from our dates, picnics and leisurely walks, Victor and I also made time to hang out with our friends. I'm relieved to say, Fox forgave me for the horrible way I treated him. He seemed a little perplexed by my apology at first, not so much because of what I said but because of the way I bowed to him. Takahiro had to explain it to him, and then he ended up making a wholly unnecessary apology to me for the cultural confusion.

While I'm on the subject of Taka and Fox, I should mention that Taka passed his immigration English test. He also got accepted into the college program he applied for, and received his study permit in August. In a cosmic stroke of good timing, Taka's Canadian study permit arrived on the day Fox's Japanese work visa expired, and they left Japan together a few days later.

Back in the winter, Victor and I offered to let them stay with us, but a lot has changed for all of us since then. We were supposed to have arrived in Willow Creek ahead of them, but obviously that didn't happen. In the meantime, Fox was busy applying for jobs back home, and he got offered a social worker position with the Department of Community Services, beginning in September. He has a Master's degree in social work, so the offer was ideal, as the position is exactly what he'd trained for.

Fox's parents still aren't speaking to him, but his sister hasn't abandoned him. She helped him find an apartment that's affordable, close to the college so Taka can walk to school, and on a bus route that'll take Fox downtown to his office. They stayed with one of Fox's cousins for a few weeks until the old tenants moved out of the apartment, and then they moved into their place around the same time we moved into ours.

I can't even begin to describe how reassuring it is to have my friend Takahiro nearby, and he confessed that he felt similarly about me being here. As safe and content as we are with our respective partners, it's daunting to realize we're in a whole new country without our families and all the things we're used to. There's no escaping the fact that we're newcomers, but it's less scary knowing we're not alone in the experience.

I wish I could say things were going as well for Seiji as they are for Taka and me. Victor and I took a weekend trip to Kyoto in July, and we decided to visit him while we were there. We got the impression he didn't really want to see us, though, and we only stayed at his flat for about half an hour because the atmosphere was so awkward.

We made a lot of small talk, but he did tell us that he hates working at the convenience store and is trying to figure out what to do next. His mother wants him to come home and be her apprentice, but he said he can't picture himself as a tailor. That statement, when the only real furniture we saw in his flat besides a shikibuton, a thrifted table and two rickety chairs was a purpose-built desk with a sewing machine on it, was incongruous. But we didn't question it. Seiji is the only one who can decide which direction he should take.

Victor's theory is that Seiji does want to come home, but he's too embarrassed or ashamed to, after leaving the way he did. If that's the case, nothing we could've said would have convinced him anyway. He'll have to make up his own mind to set aside his pride or fear or whatever else may be holding him back.

It makes me sad to think of him being all alone in that bare, depressing flat. Despite all the hurtful things he said to me, I still consider him my friend and I want him to have a full and happy life. I'd like the chance to talk to him one-on-one, to explain some things and to let him get his feelings out. That may never happen, I realize, but I like to think I'm keeping the door open for the opportunity, should it ever arise.

The uncomfortable meeting with Seiji notwithstanding, Victor and I had the most magical weekend in Kyoto. We revisited all the places we went to during the week we'd gotten married. On one evening we attended an absolutely glorious performance by a local string quartet, and on another we went skating at an indoor rink where I was able to teach Victor a sporting skill for once. Would you believe I'm a better skater than him? Well... perhaps not better, but more graceful at least.

As for the rest of the summer, August passed in much the same way as July, with plenty of walks and outdoor meals and precious time with my family. One thing of particular note from August, however, was my meeting with Mr. Tanaka and the human resources representative from our firm. Dr. Kasongo submitted a report to our HR department recommending that my short-term disability claim should be extended until the end of the year. Her opinion is that I'll be medically ready to return to work in January, and both my boss and the HR department approved the extension.

I'm looking forward to getting back to work, but I'm also glad that I'll have the rest of the year to keep getting better. I was working remotely before, but now I'll be working extremely remotely, and I think it's great that I get to keep my old job even though I'm living in an entirely different country. Much to my delight, Mr. Tanaka seems to think so as well. He said it was a chance he couldn't possibly pass up because with me being fluent in English and physically located in Canada, our firm will be in a much better position to attract more North American clients. Mr. Tanaka said he'd contact me early in December to work out a schedule for regular meetings, and so we can discuss my job duties and responsibilities going forward.

Although he didn't directly say so, I think he may have given me a promotion of sorts. I'll be sure to let you know if that indeed turns out to be the case.

The other big thing in August was that Victor and I departed Japan on the thirty-first. We said our goodbyes to Mama and Yuki at home, and then Papa took us to the airport.

I could not have predicted how emotional that would be.

Papa and I have grown close this year, and I wish I could find the right way to express how much of the previously empty space in my soul he's filled. I knew I was missing him all those years when our relationship was so strained, but I could not have comprehended exactly how much until we both dropped our stubborn pride and opened up our hearts and minds to each other. Saying goodbye was even harder than I expected, and even though I knew it wouldn't be a permanent goodbye, part of me didn't want to let go.

He went with us all the way to the security area. We all stopped outside the big glass doors, and Papa held out his hand for Victor to shake.

"Take care of yourself, Victor," he said. "And take care of my son."

"I'll take the best care of him, I promise," Victor assured him. "Don't worry."

"I'm going to, regardless," Papa said. "But, I trust you."

"Thanks." Victor grinned mischievously at him. "But, you know, if you ever want to come check on him in person, you're welcome to visit us whenever you're able. We'll offer you a non-haunted bedroom."

Papa smiled. "Expect us for Winterfest, and tell Miss Sachiko that we wouldn't dream of taking her room."

"Will do," Victor said.

Then, Papa turned to me. For an instant, I thought he was going to shake my hand too, but at the last moment he pulled me into a hug. I can't remember the last time I was hugged by my father and didn't feel uncomfortable with it, but I had no problem this time. I put my arms around him and held on tight.

"We'll see you in a few months," he whispered into my hair, and I was startled when I realized he was crying.

But I guessed I couldn't fault him for it because my eyes certainly weren't dry either. "I'm really going to miss you."

"Me too," he said. "Think of me when you’re having your strawberry milkshakes."

"I'll think of you every day, no matter what I'm doing. You and Mama and Yuki."

"I love you, my treasure," he said quietly. "Be brave. Mama and I believe in you, and we know you're going to have a wonderful new life in Canada."

I was sobbing by that point, but I managed to get out, "I love you, Papa."

I meant it. Watcher help me… with every fibre of my being, I meant it, and I hadn't even grasped the full magnitude of my love for him until that very moment.

When he walked away, I couldn't watch. Victor held me while I cried my heart out, right there in the middle of the crowded airport.

"It's gonna be okay, Yuri," Victor said. "He's right, you know. We're gonna have a wonderful life."

It was hard to believe that when I felt like my heart was breaking, but once we were in the air and away, I began to feel better. On the plane, we looked at pictures of various places around Willow Creek that we'd taken back in June, photos of Dr. Grace and Dr. Julian's wedding, and some funny snaps we'd taken of ourselves and Yuki in my room at my parents’ house. We talked about our plans and dreams, and we made up stories about ourselves in the far future. Cute old men in rocking chairs on our front porch, Victor said, and the image made me smile.

We arrived at the tiny Willow Creek airport around mid-morning the next day, where we were met by Victor's mother. She drove us home, and as we were getting out of the car, she handed Victor a set of keys.

"Here you go," she said. "Your grandpa was supposed to be here with the set you gave him, but apparently he and Juliet went on a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Oasis Springs. He said to pass along his apologies. He’ll be here next week."

Victor looked amused. "How much you want to bet they're eloping?"

"Victor!" Dr. Grace exclaimed. "Michael wouldn't do that."

"You don't think?" Victor's raised eyebrow said he might've known something his mother didn't.

Dr. Grace shook her head. "You're impossible, you know. You and your Grandpa Michael.”

"Yeah, we get that a lot."

"Well, I'll leave the two of you to settle in," she said. "Come over around five o'clock. Julian's making his famous chicken parmigiana."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Italian food," Victor replied. "I think you'll like it."

“Strawberry cake for dessert,” Dr. Grace added. “Because I heard somebody around here really enjoys strawberries.”

Victor winked at me. “I wonder who that could be?”

“I’ll see you boys at dinner,” Dr. Grace said

She wished us a good day, and then she got back into her car and drove across the street. It's nice, living across the street from Victor's mother and stepfather. I know Victor's happy about it, and I like knowing we have somebody close we can rely on if we ever need anything.

Once Victor's mother had left, I was ready to go inside. I started for the doorstep, but Victor held up his hand to stop me. "Just wait right there, okay?"

"Why?" I asked, as I watched him bound up the steps.

He unlocked the front door and flung it wide open before rejoining me on the walkway. "Because," he said. "I'm gonna carry you over the threshold. Isn't that what they do in those historical movies you like?"

I laughed. "That's for newlyweds, Victor. We've been married nearly a year."

"Yeah, but we didn't have our own house when we were newlyweds, did we?"

"Are you certain you can even still lift me? And your arms—"

"My arms are fine, and you're not that much heavier than you used to be. If I can't still carry you a few meters, I think that'll be a sign to go harder on the weight training."

"Okay," I said. I was a little dubious, but also secretly thrilled at the thought of being carried. It'd been a long time, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it.

"Okay," Victor said. "Ready?"

I nodded, and a second later he scooped me up as seemingly effortlessly as he ever had. He carried me up the steps and through the door, and then set me down carefully in the front hallway.

"Welcome home," he said.

I wanted to run through the place and look at everything, touch everything, and soak in the knowledge that this was our home. Mine and Victor's. It was the place where we'd truly build our intertwined lives, where we'd finish growing up and growing old together. Our goals and dreams would spring from here, and we'd live happily ever after because even if the world around us was in chaos, happiness comes from the inside. Victor taught me that, and once I finally understood it, my outlook changed completely. Life may not always be smooth sailing, but together we can survive any storm and come out smiling on the other side of it.

Before I ran off to explore every corner of the house and garden, there was something I needed to do.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me. For being my soulmate and my superhero and my... everything."

Victor leaned down to kiss me, and I let myself melt into his embrace. I closed my eyes, breathing in the soft, sweet scent of coconut sunscreen and relishing the solid warmth of his body against mine. It was comforting and familiar, and it felt like the fulfillment of all my desires. For a moment, I forgot that I was in a foreign country, forgot that I had responsibilities... forgot everything that wasn't the sensation of being held by my husband.

"You are the most amazing person," Victor whispered with his lips still almost touching mine. "I'm lucky, getting to share the rest of my life with you."

I'm the lucky one, I thought. I don't know if I'd even be here to recount this to all of you if it weren't for Victor. I know he'd never take credit for saving me and would probably say I saved myself, but I couldn't have done it without him. I no longer think of repayment, but it's still important to me to show gratitude for everything he's done, and I think the best way I can do that is to appreciate the life he's helped me reclaim and live it to the fullest of my capability.

I stood on tiptoe to kiss him one more time and then, hand in hand, we set out to acquaint ourselves with every detail of our beautiful new home.

#writing #victorsworldadventures #willow creek #willow creek haunted house #victor nelson #yuri okamoto #tw chronic illness #tw medical mention #stargazersims

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