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runnning-outof-time · 10 months ago

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Hiiii, thank you so much for all of these they are so wonderful.

I would love something with Tommy and maybe 30? "You're not hurt are you?"

Was thinking maybe Tommy comes home after a particularly trying day and just flops onto the couch. Y/N comes home from food shopping shortly after and finds him and is concerned for him. They can be either married or whatever you see fit.

Uhmm I'd love it to be nice and fluffy, and I know you said you're not into writing shut sooo just go as heavy as you feel comfortable with and coat it with fluff and I'll be happy. >w< thank you so much I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to be part of this celebration with you! 💜

Thanks so much for sending this in, @chumon ! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write! I absolutely love this idea (thanks for adding some more detail to it…it made it easy to follow). I hope you like what I did with it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Never Tired For You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: a slightly suggestive conversation/situation

Word Count: 1153

Summary: (Y/N) finds Tommy laying on the couch and immediately thinks the worst…he couldn’t just be laying down, right?

Tommy was tired. It had only been two days into his two week stay in London, and he already felt exhausted by the numerous meetings he had to carry out. There was so much to keep track of: the on-going deal with Alfie Solomons and all of the turns that took, making sure Arthur continued to keep things in line at the Eden Club, and keeping tabs of whatever Inspector Campbell was going to have him do next.

Somehow he managed to carve out an afternoon to himself. He was hoping to spend it with his wife, (Y/N), who had joined him on this trip — against his own volition — but upon returning to his sister’s home, he found that she wasn’t in.

So he decided to lay down on the couch. Yes, Tommy Shelby actually took a moment for himself so that he could rest. No, the world didn’t come to an end. But he actually managed to find a position comfortable enough that made him want to stay on the couch.

(Y/N) had been out grocery shopping. She realized that Ada needed a few things, and so with nothing better to do she set out and ran some errands.

The surprise that was waiting for her back at the house just about made her drop the basket she was carrying. Never had she seen her husband laid out on the couch — especially in the middle of the day. The sight of it alone was enough to get her mind running in overdrive.

“Tommy? What’s happened?” she got right to the point as she hurried over to the couch he was laying on.

“Huh?” he asked in confusion, beginning to move from his laying position so that he could sit once more.

“No, don’t move,” she rushed to stop him, her one hand extended in his direction, “you’re not hurt, are you?” Asking the question made her heart drop. She’d did a quick scan of his frame and found nothing glaring at her, but she couldn’t be too sure.

“No, love, I’m not,” he shook his head, continuing with his motions of sitting up, looking up at her with furrowed eyebrows. “I was just laying down,” he told her then, fishing the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could slide one between his lips.

The second half of his statement made (Y/N) audibly gasp. There’s no way that Tommy Shelby would willingly lay down, she thought to herself incredulously. “Ok now I’m worried, Tom. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” he chuckled at her worry, “there’s not a scratch on me. I’ve just had a long day is all,” he made another attempt to quell her concerns. The look on her face told him that she didn’t quite buy it. “Would you like to check for yourself?” he asked then, his one eyebrow quirking upwards as a grin teetered on his lips.

She could tell by his facial expression that his question was leaning on the suggestive side of things. Just the thought of what he was hinting at made heat rush to her cheeks. His cheekiness was one of the things she loved about him.

“Hmm?” Tommy cut into her thoughts, looking up at her through his eyelashes as he waited for her response.

“No…” she trailed off, biting her bottom lip to conceal her grin when she saw a tinge of disappointment fill his features, “I think I’ll believe you. And besides…you said you had a long day,” she called back to his previous statement.

“I had a long day…doesn’t mean I’m too tired for me wife,” he reminded her, the previous glint returning to his eyes.

“Maybe later,” she decided, her grin growing to match his.

“C’mere then,” he beckoned, leaning back against the couch as he placed the cigarette between his lips again.

“Let me put these away first,” she answered him, lifting the basket she was still holding. He nodded in response and she went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Moments later, she was back in the front room curled up into Tommy’s side. “So you’ve really only had a long day?” she couldn’t help but bring their previous conversation up again.

“Yes,” he answered, his fingertips absentmindedly dancing over the skin of her arm. “Arthur’s losing it at the club again…I’m not sure what I’m going to do with him.”

“Give him another chance,” (Y/N) suggested, lifting her head from his shoulder when she felt his eyes on her. “I mean it,” she doubled down on her stance, her eyes locked with his.

Tommy pursed his lips and thought about her comments for a moment before he let out a breath and looked to the windows.

“I’ll drop it,” she broke the silence, realizing that his mind was going again. She didn’t want to ruin this moment. “Let’s go back to just sitting here.”

After speaking, she turned on the couch so that she was able to straddle his lap. His hands quickly found their home on her hips, and his eyes were immediately back on hers as the mischievous glint returned.

“Just sitting here, eh?” he questioned her with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sitting,” she grinned, her hands finding his cheeks before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Tommy’s hands moved to press flat against her back as their kiss deepened, bringing her body flush against his.

“If this is what it’d be like…” he breathed as they pulled away just slightly, “I’ll have to start coming home early more often.”

“If you hold up your end of the bargain, I’ll hold up mine, Mr. Shelby,” (Y/N) pulled further away from him so that he could see the smile present on her face.

Their lips met again, teeth clashing and tounges pressing together as they became lost in their embrace. Tommy tried to be sneaky with it, but (Y/N) pulled away when she felt him start to unbutton the top of her dress.

“Not so tired anymore, hmm?” she questioned, a suggestive glint in her eye as she sat up straight, her hands running down his cheeks so that she could settle them on his shoulders.

“Never tired for you, love,” he husked, his eyes blown with lust as he managed to continue with his mission despite her breaking further away from him.

“Let’s go to our room then. I don’t think Ada’d want us to do this on her couch.”

That was all Tommy needed to stop what he was doing and drop his hands from her frame. “Go on, then,” he nodded his head to her, “lead the way.”

(Y/N) wasted no time in standing from his lap. She waited for him to stand also before she gingerly took hold of his hand and led him to the steps and up to their room.

*tags in the reblogs so they’ll hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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istharoth · 2 months ago

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In love with a 2-D Character?! Frostheim Edition!

Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.

↪ Jin Kamurai:

Has no interest in games whatsoever.

Only caught wind of the game because Kaito was crying about not getting his favourite character.

Out of curiosity (to bond with the Chaos Combo) he downloads the game. Lo and Behold, he finds himself playing as an Inspector attempting to cure his curse.

You don't catch his eye in the character selection screen, but he goes with you anyway because you're the first person he sees in the character selection.

When he sees you, sleeping on that sofa while his character is walking towards you, trying to wake you up, something shifts in his heart.

THEN, he goes on to find information about your story and other lore tidbits.

Finds out you play the piano and despairs because why tf are you not real?!

He gets every edition of you. R, SR, SSR, including your best equipment. He only pulls on your banners and spends money only for you.

Every other character in his roster is stuck at level 1 while every card of you is maxed out.

He doesn't go out of his house but whenever there's a convention that the fandom is going to be at, he goes outside.

Buys every single merch of you he finds his eyes on.

If there's an official event for you at a cafe or restaurant in another city, he won't go but he will pay others to go for him and ship him the additions you get from participating in the official event.

He has a fan account of you on twitter, retweets every art and fanfiction of you he finds. His home screen + lock screen + pfp will change every time he finds a new art piece of you.

↪Tohma Ishibashi

He's also on the list of wasn't interested in the game.

But Jin started playing it and all he could talk about was his favorite character so he gave the game the chance.

Immediately did not like Jin's favourite character. You didn't catch his eye, instead he went for another character.

When he first saw, suit and all, lifting that heavy-ass weapon, he realized he needed something he didn't have.

OH AND YOUR VOICE!?!?! The way you tease your younger classmen, even though it's an invasion of privacy, he's strangely attracted to you.

You're like a butler, and when he finds out you're not as smart as you look (this is literally just Tohma's character omg) he's going to buy a ring to propose to you.

AND YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH THE CHARACTER HE SELECTED?! Now he just has to wait for your banner to get you.

[He's one of those people who loves a character but they go years without obtaining that character.]

Literally makes edits of you with those same official pictures. He likes the characters that the company keeps in the basement.

HAS taken pictures with every cosplayer who cosplayed you.

Will correct everyone if they say something wrong about your lore. He will not see misinformation about you being spread around, nuh uh.

↪ Lucas Errant

Luca also isn't very much into games. He's focusing on his studies for now but when Kaito shows him a picture of you and his favourite character saying "Us, unfortunately" he downloads the game.

Selects the first character that pops up on the selection screen thinking he can change it later, he doesn't and he's going to lament it forever.

But luckily, he gets you on his first ten pull! You're his main now, every good piece of equipment he has will immediately go to you, though he's so guilty every time he takes a piece out from another character to give you.

When he sees you're a bit unhinged but very protective, he decides that he's going to make the best content for you, very wholesome content. He loves interacting with fanwork of you.

Is the nicest in your fandom. He's replying with those cute animals under every fanart of yours, like every fanart someone presses on, Luca's comment is already there.

Isn't too obsessive over you, you're just a character, he understands boundaries, he isn't too big on merch either.

But, he LOVES your voice actor's covers of about anything. Classical music goodbye, covers of songs by your voice actor is on repeat.

wants to attend your events so badly but he's a bit nervous about meeting so many people who also adore you.

↪ Kaito Fuji

...okay where do I begin.

He got the Frostheimers into the game in the first place.

Spent two whole hours deciding on who to select in the character selection screen. EVERYONE WAS TOO DAMN GOOD LOOKING.

But then he saw you in the prologue, you were stuck with his player character in a closet and you were so understanding of him!!

He fell bad right then and there.

Cue the regret of not selecting you for the selection screen.

every fanart on Twitter knows him, a few of them even blocked him because of his atrociously downbad comments about you.

his tweets about you belong in the hall of shame or fame, whatever you prefer.

Gambling? Gambling.

Maybe his bank called him one or two times telling him he didn't have money to spend.

Eventually had to borrow money from Romeo and even then failed to get you. His luck is bad irl and ingame, cut him some slack.

He loves you though, and spends his life daydreaming about you and his life together in a cottage in the woods, away from money-hungry debt collectors.

you know those people at kpop concert who bake sweets to give to people while they camp outside? Yeah, when there's an official event he goes around doing the same. He gets freebies of you for making cookies.

Next: [Vagastrom]

#tokyo debunker #istha rambles #i think the game playing mostly applies to Kaito lol #the rest are too busy doing something else #imma do the rest once my exams are done <3 #pls don't flop imma cry #tdb #jin kamurai #tohma ishibashi #kaito fuji #lucas errant #istha fics

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archangeldyke-all · 6 months ago

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hi hi hii sweetheart. Oh my lord. Your writing is literally so good, you honestly deserve the best, mind blowing, legs shaking, knees bucking, cant even talk orgasm. I'm so sorry. someone had to say ittttt. But I was wonderingggg😋 could you maybe do a drabble with reader and sevika are selling their house because maybe they have a little fucker on the way and they need more room, so they are goin through the house one last time and sevika starts js randomly naming out all her favorite times they have had sex in each place of the house...and she recalls like Hella details not even reader remembers. (Reader has pregnant mush-brain.) But could sevika be like..."wanna find a place we haven't fucked before..?" AND ITS LIKE THE HARDEST THING TO FIND BECAUSE THEY HAVE LITERALLY DONE IT EVERYDAY. But they end up finding a spot and sevika gives reader defo on the top 10 best sex they have had in that house. Could sevika maybe have a penis or even js her strap on in this...?:3 ANYWAY I WOULD LOVE THIS BUT IF YOU CANT DO IT ITS OKAY TOO!! I love you so so much your writings literally amazing!!!

this is so cute i love it!! (and thank u so much, i'm so glad u like my stuff eeek!!<3)

men and minors dni

you should probably be feeling a little more sentimental and sad about leaving behind the house you and sevika have been living in for seven years now.

these four walls have been your home through some of the best days of your life: meeting sevika, marrying sevika, realizing you're pregnant with sevika's baby-- it all happened here. you guys built your lives together here, and overtime, they became so intertwined and connected that you've become a 'we' rather than a 'me.'

but in all honesty-- you're thrilled to be leaving.

you hate this house. the floors are slanted, the roof is leaky, the windows aren't weatherproofed, so it's freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. you haven't been able to take a bath in the tub for three years now because there's cracks in the caulk and any water above an inch deep starts to flood the bathroom. it's a shitty house, and you've been wanting to leave for years.

sevika's always been the one to convince. it's not that she loves your house, it's that she doesn't want to put the effort into finding a new one. but, upon the two of you finding out that your family will be growing in a few short months, sevika finally relented.

and now, just ten minutes down the street from this place, you've bought a beautiful family home, big enough for the two of you, your future baby, and whatever other family members (both human and animal) that might spawn in the future.

your inspector gave it an A+, the yard is spacious, the floors are level, there's not just one, but three bathtubs,-- and the one in the main en-suite is like a hot tub-- big enough for you and your wife to fit and lounge. you're so fucking excited to move in, that you're not even a little sad to leave behind the old space.

sevika's been eyeing you with worry all day as she lugs boxes and furniture to the moving van. she's waiting for your pregnancy hormones to hit you and for you to become a blubbering mess at the thought of leaving behind your place. you can't blame her, your pregnancy hormones can and have turned you into a puddle of tears over much less. just last night you cried for thirty minutes because one of the celery stalks in the bunch you'd bought was wilted, and all his celery friends were still green and healthy, going on living without him.

but, really, you're fine.

she's not buying it.

"sevika, for the last fucking time, i'm okay!" you groan. the house is mostly empty now, just a few boxes and some lamps left. sevika's taking a snack break, one of her arms wrapped around you as she looks at you with concern.

"i'm just saying babe, we can't come back after tonight, so if you need any, like, sentimental pictures, or a good cry--"

"oh my god!" you laugh, elbowing her. "sevika, i'm okay, really. i'm so fucking excited to go, i'm so excited for our future. i'll cherish the memories this place gave us forever, but i don't really care about the place itself." you shrug.

sevika studies you carefully, and then she pouts a bit. "it doesn't make you a little sad?" she asks. you raise your eyebrow, surprised to hear your usually-so-stoic wife is feeling ...sentimental?

"what makes me sad?"

"babe, this house is the first place we ever fucked in!" she whines. you burst into laughter. sevika points to the empty bedroom behind her. "you're not sad to leave that room behind? after all the times i fucked you into incoherence in there?" she asks, her eyes wide and sparkly like she's actually a little emotional. you can't stop laughing as you reach up to cup your wife's cheek.

"honey, you're gonna be fucking me into incoherence for the rest of our lives." you remind her. sevika smiles a bit at this.

"yeah, but... we had so many good times in this house." she sighs wistfully. you chuckle, pecking her cheek.

"we did. remember when you dented the drywall with the headboard?" you ask. sevika giggles a bit, her gaze snapping back down to yours, her hand reaching around your body to start gently stroking your ever-growing belly.

"'course i remember, i had to plaster it back up myself." she chuckles. "remember when we almost started a fire when we were getting kinky with the wax?" she asks. you blink up at her, drawing a blank and pouting.

"no." you whine. "tell me, it sounds hot." you demand. your pregnancy's been blessedly healthy, but the one symptom that's hit you hard is your baby-brain. sometimes, you're just total mush in the head. sevika's been patient and kind each time. right now, she just smiles salaciously at you and presses you against the counter.

"you don't remember?" she asks. "our second anniversary, we wanted to try wax play? you got the special lotion candles and everything, wore those pretty lacy panties i ruined last year on your birthday, and i let you tie my hands up." you smile, the memory slowly coming back to you, heat building between your legs as she speaks. "anyways... it was goin' real good until i kicked over an unattended candle." she whispers.

you break into laughter-- the memory suddenly flooding back to you. "shit, i miss that blanket." you snort, remembering the way the comforter seemingly spontaneously combusted.

"you were screaming as you tried to pat out the fire, and i was tied to the fucking bed that was goin' up in flames-- i thought i was gonna fuckin' die." sevika cackles.

you snort, and kiss her cheek. "i saved you, though." you brag. she laughs.

"yeah, you did."

"c'mon, tell me another." you demand.

sevika raises an eyebrow. "another what?"

"another sex memory." you say. sevika giggles. "they're all fresh and new to me, i like remembering how fun and hot we are."

"hmm..." sevika thinks, her eyes darting around the house. she snatches your wrist and drags you to the bathroom. "i'm still pretty convinced i got you knocked up in here six months ago."

"which time?" you ask. sevika smirks, kissing your cheek and pinching your ass.

"exactly." she teases. you snort. "no, but for real, there was this one time-- i'd just finished my workout and you'd had a big glass of 'shower wine'" sevika puts this in air-quotes, teasing the habit you indulge in each night, "and i fucked you against the sink so good that you had to get right back in the shower once i was done with you. fuck, i came my fucking brains out, honey, i couldn't speak for like ten minutes afterwards." your thighs clench a bit at the memory, your stomach bursting into butterflies at the way sevika's voice has gotten all heavy. her eyes are dark when she looks over at you. "and then, boom. two weeks later you're pregnant." she says, grinning.

you giggle. "you think that was the one, huh?" you ask. she nods.

"what's your theory?"

"i always thought it happened when you fucked me on the couch while we were watching that stupid cop-buddy movie." you say. sevika laughs.

"so you remember that-- a lazy, unromantic fuck after a long weekend of both of us lounging and not showering-- but you don't remember the good ones?" she asks. you just giggle and shrug again.

"they're all good ones with you, baby." you say. sevika's teasing look melts away, something needier taking it's place. you know what she's going to ask for, so you speak before she can. "you think there's a place in the house we haven't fucked?" you ask.

sevika blinks, considering it for a second. "i dunno."

"i wouldn't wanna leave the house with a room un-fucked in, sev, that would be a real shame."

"fuck, it really would, wouldn't it?" she asks. you snort and nod.

"so?" you ask. "you think we've checked all the boxes or can you think of a place we might need to--"

"the attic. you think you can crawl up there in your state?" she inturrupts you, rubbing your stomach as she eyes the little hatch in the ceiling of the hall. you burst into laughter.

"the attic!?"

"c'mon!" she laughs, jumping up and grabbing the string, pulling the stairs down. "you go first, i'll catch you if you fall. she says, steadying your hips as she walks you up the first few steep steps. you can't stop laughing as your wife basically herds you up into the attic.

you've never been up here, execpt for the few times you've had to put a pot down during a rain storm to stop the leaks from coming down into your home. it's dingy and dusty, and you can't even stand up straight-- you have to crawl to the end of the small storage space so sevika can fit up beside you.

she seems just as disgruntled with her choice as you are, but she's determined to make it work, quickly stripping herself of her shirt and laying it down behind you as a blanket. you giggle. "lay down." she requests, holding the back of your head as you lower yourself down so you don't bonk it on any beams or bars.

you can't see her like this. you're flat on your back, and your stomach is huge. you don't know what she's planning, so it's a shock when sevika starts tugging at your pants.

you burst into giggles, lifting your hips up to help her. "what's your plan here, babe?" you ask as she starts kissing your bare legs.

she hums against your thigh, considering your question. she trails a hand up your thigh, teasing your cunt with a feather-light touch, before lifting her mouth from your leg to speak.

"'m gonna get you knocked up again." she says.

you burst into laughter, and you can see sevika lift up from between your legs to admire your smile. you grin down at her, and widen your legs. "give it your best shot, baby." you choke out between laughs.

sevika, grins, and then ducks back down to disappear beneath your tummy and bury her face in your cunt.

fuck, you're horny. the baby's been giving you crazy hormones, and while sometimes that means you can cry at sad celery, other times it means you're so insanely horny you could cum from a strong breeze.

"oh, fuck, baby!" you cry as sevika buries her tongue inside of you. she hums, reaching up to start working her fingers in the mix.

"gonna cum already?" she grunts before ducking back down and sucking your clit. you smack your hand against the dusty floor beneath you-- too round to reach down and tug her hair like you want to.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum all over your fuckin' face, sev." you whine, your brain turning to mush as you get closer. she groans against you at your words, and you take it as a sign to just let your mouth run. "'y feel so fuckin' good, 'y fuck me so good, shit, sevika, sev!" you scream as you cum.

before you can even ride out the first wave of your high, sevika's jumping on top of you to mount you so quickly that her head smacks against one of the low hanging beams in front of you.

you gasp-- still cumming and horrified at the loud "SMACK!" that rings out as you watch your wife's head collide with the beam-- then you burst into pitying, whiny giggles as sevika curses.

"shit!" she groans, reaching up to hold her forehead. you reach up to cup her face, laughing and shivering and somehow still cumming.

"are you okay?" you giggle, pulling her down to kiss the bruise already forming on her forehead. she grunts.

"i'm fine."

"liar." you giggle. you tilt her head from side to side, giving her pupils a good look as a half-assed concussion exam. "poor baby. need me to take you to the urgent care? see if you got a concussion?"

"i'm fine. just need to put my dick in you." she grunts.

you laugh, but shut your legs before she can sink into you. she huffs and glares up at you, and you pinch her chin. "remind me to check you out for real once we're done, okay?" you ask. she nods. you glare at her, knowing she won't. "sevika, you're my brain until the baby comes, i don't care if you don't want me to remember, you really gotta remind me. if you have a concussion and die because i let you fuck me instead of taking you to the hospital-- how am i supposed to explain that to the baby?" you ask.

sevika groans. "okay! okay! i know! ''re you gonna lemme fuck you or what?" she asks.

you pucker your lips, and sevika's annoyance melts as she swoops down to kiss you. you hum happily and open your legs, smiling up at your wife. "okay." you agree. sevika grins, and then she sinks into you with one smooth thrust.

you both gasp, your open mouths just a breath apart from each other as sevika starts to work her hips against yours. "fuck." you whine. sevika smirks down at you.

"fuck." she agrees.

your thighs are shaking-- her cock fills you up perfectly, like she's made for you, made for stretching you just right. each of her thrusts is accompanied by a wet smack, and you bury your face against sevika's shoulder in embarrassment as the wet sounds grow louder. she chuckles.

"you've been fuckin' leaky since i knocked you up. your cunt's so fuckin' needy, isn't it? already put a baby in it and it's just droolin' for more." she grunts against your ear. you cum the second the words leave her mouth, your nails sinking into her shoulders as you shake apart. sevika grins down at you. "fuck, it's so fuckin' cute how easy you are when you're carryin' my kid. i just put it in babe, you're already cumming?" she teases again.

you bite her neck, relishing in the way her breath hitches as you try to collect yourself, then hiking your leg up over her hips and gripping her hair in your hands. "it's your fault." you whimper as you try to catch your breath. "you knocked me up 'n now i'm fuckin' stupid and horny and-- and you feel so good." you whine.

sevika shivers on top of you, and you tug her hair harder.

"'m yours, baby." you whimper. "all yours."

that's the final nail in the coffin-- sevika screams a "fuck!" as she cums at your words. you grin, clenching around her cock and giggling at the way her arms nearly give out beneath her. "you're an evil woman." she sighs appreciatively. "i love you so much."

you laugh, and sevika ducks down to kiss your exposed neck. "'m your evil woman." sevika's dick makes one more feeble twitch inside of you at your words, the reminder that you're hers. you giggle in delight at the feeling.

"damn right you are." she mumbles, grinning.

you sigh as the euphoria of your orgasms wears off and the hard floor beneath you starts to kick in. "you might need to carry me back down the attic steps."

sevika bursts into giggles. "you might need to take me to the hospital. i can't tell if i'm seeing stars because i just came so hard or if it's a concussion."

you groan, and sevika muffles her giggles against your neck.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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deadpanwalking · 18 days ago

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Just letting you know the gfm you were working on met it’s goal and now has a new goal set

Yes! I wanted to wait until I got home so I could write something down about why supporting (and continuing to support) families through vetted fundraisers is so important—a lot of people have written compelling and incisive posts about why, but since many of of you have followed me for a while, I wanted to share a bit about my family’s experience and give some perspective that might encourage everyone to keep up the momentum.

185,000 Soviet Jews came to the United States between the 1970s and the 1990s. We were a kind of immigrant that’s known as a transmigrant, because we had to immigrate to several different countries before moving to the US permanently; since nobody could go to the US directly from the Soviet Union, we had to do it through a somewhat convoluted process called the Vienna-Rome pipeline.

My parents waited over ten years for an exit visa and were rejected several times, but were finally permitted to renounce their citizenship and leave Soviet Ukraine in the 1980s—there were three adults (my parents and grandmother) and two children (me and my older brother), all in good health. Things were a lot more relaxed in the Soviet Union by then, but my father had spent some time in jail for dissidence, so everyone involved in the process of obtaining the visas had to be bribed, and towards the end we were living in an communal apartment with eight other people to save money—that and because my parents were worried the Soviet authorities would find a pretext to arrest my father again (this had happened to our friends). When we got to the Odessa railway station (early in the morning, without saying goodbye to anybody, just in case), we were each allowed one suitcase, a very small sum of money, and our exit visa paperwork as identification.

We bought as little as possible on the train ride to Austria and only ate the cured meat my grandmother brought in her bag, but after two Soviet customs checks on the train, we couldn’t afford the tickets to Vienna, which was the entry point to the West, and where the Jewish relief services center was, and had to buy tickets for a station 40 kilometers outside of the city. When the train arrived, we stayed on board and were very quiet, and the ticket inspector either forgot us or showed us a small mercy by letting us stay. In Vienna, we lived in a migrant center (which, for us, was a hotel repurposed for migrant families) with other Soviet Jewish families while the JDC helped us put together our initial immigration applications to the United States, then made arrangements to get us to Rome so we could wait there for our various documents to get processed and approved, while applying for relief aid that would help us live from day-to-day in the meantime.

That was the most difficult part. We lived in migrant housing just outside Rome for 11 months. The Jewish relief aid services helped us out with almost everything—housing, groceries, social services, medical expenses—but it still wasn’t enough. When you have no steady income (and, as a sovereign citizen of nowhere at all, aren’t allowed to work), every expense is prohibitive, every setback is financially devastating. We got by because local churches gave us clothing, local students volunteered to teach us a little Italian—but when I got pneumonia (twice), when my mom needed another pair of dentures, when a translator who said he'd help streamline some paperwork took our money and disappeared, our case worker reached out to help us get sponsor families in America so they could help organize financial assistance (my dad would write to thank them in Russian because his English wasn’t very good, and their Russian friend would translate—we even got to meet one of the families when we moved here, and they’re still our close friends).

It was very fucking rough. By the time we were on the plane to America, I was pulling out my hair from stress, my grandma had developed a heart murmur, and we had almost nothing we brought from Odessa left in those suitcases.

Now read Bisan’s story. Or Mohammed’s. Or the stories of countless others. Tell me my family’s journey isn’t a fucking pleasure cruise compared to what they're facing. We fled political and religious persecution—but we weren’t sick, we weren’t starving, we weren’t being bombed, shot at, tortured, exterminated. The Jewish orgs helped us so much, but people—those American families and their friends—kept us going when we were waiting for faceless bureaucrats to approve our application to exist. And it didn’t stop when we got here, either. So many people kept on helping. They gave us money, time, referrals, opportunities, coached us through the process of getting naturalized.

As a matter of course, I donate to and platform fundraisers that are provided by a local mosque, and I probably won't be doing too many fundraising things like this on Tumblr because I don't (despite appearances) invest as much time and energy here as I do to my offline activism—but I want everyone to understand how important it is to support these families in addition to international relief organizations.

#we had a fundraising goal too and it increased as the situation kept changing and the situation kept changing all the time!#one of the things that helped us afford the plane tickets to nyc was the arrival of the holocaust reparations check from germany #your home. your uncles aunts and cousins. your mother. your fiance. your friends. your youth. $280 and you'll be fucking grateful.#anonymous #assbox

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maarigolds · 2 years ago

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Lucy, Lockwood and George, after everything.

(show edition. I'm not going by book canon for this one, so don't worry about spoilers)

At 21 or 22, Lockwood is the first of them that starts to lose his talent.

Which makes sense, since he's the oldest. At the beginning he refuses to even acknowledge it, but Lucy and George figure out what's happening soon enough. For a while he's just ashamed and angry and sad all the time. Then it gets better: Lucy and George get him trough it. He also calls Kipps, and they talk for hours, both coming out of it feeling almost at peace (Kipps has gone back to school and is talking about wanting to become a teacher. Which Lockwood feels like should surprise him, but actually doesn't).

Lucy is next. It breaks her heart a little (because of skull and all other type 3s) and it scares her a lot. But then she realizes how soothingly quiet the world can be at times, and lets herself think that maybe she will be alright.

George is last. And the thing is, even though it saddens him to lose the one thing that connected him to ghosts, mainly he's relieved. He's been waiting for the other shoe to drop for a while, and now that it has, he's ready for whatever may come next.

The jobs get more and more rare as they hear, see and feel less and less. Lockwood knows he could hire new kids to replace them, but in truth he doesn't really want to. Perhaps Lockwood & Co. can be laid to rest at last: after all, they've already achieved more than he ever dreamt. So the next time a client calls, he informs her they've shut down and gives her the name of an up-and-coming independent agency he's heard great things about. He only feels mildly guilty about it.

Even if they're technically not his employees anymore, George and Lucy stay. They don’t talk about it, but the idea of moving out of Portland row and living lives that aren't intrinsically intertwined feels wrong to all three of them: they're a family, after all, and nothing has to change about that.

Still, they need to make money somehow. So they muse about going far away from London, opening a bakery, living in a small house by the sea. But in the end they stay, both in the city and line of work they're used to. Because they do belong there, it's undeniable. George, of course, goes into ghost research and becomes a leading voice in the field, discovering new ways to help agents all over the country. No one is surprised, but everyone is proud. Lucy one day shows up at Barnes' office to ask him about becoming an inspector. It's the last thing either would have expected, but when he asks her why, she says it feels like the best place to be to help kids like her. To stop people like Jacobs. So he gives her a job. She's determined to change things from the inside. Barnes thinks that if someone could, it's her. And Lockwood... well, it takes a while for him to figure it out. But one evening Lucy comes home talking about a kid left deeply traumatized by a job gone wrong, and suddenly he knows. The next day he calls the bank to open up a pro bono clinic for agents and ex agents in need of psychological treatment. After less than a week they already have their first client.

Slowly but steadily, it becomes their new normal.

Lockwood sets up a study in the room on the stairs and works mainly from there. George, on the other hand, works at a lab in the City: he is the first to leave in the morning, but he always comes home soon enough to cook dinner. Lucy keeps slightly more irregular hours, and sometimes her job keeps her away for longer than she'd like. But then again she occasionally gets to come home to the adorable view of the boys fast asleep in front of the tv, so that's good.

One day Flo brings them a stray cat she found while working: they name him Donut and spoil him way too much.

Lucy starts gardening. George grows a magnificent beard (Lockwood is not jealous of it). The fridge breaks down and they have to buy a new one. Airf's son replaces him at the shop. They put up a hammock in the backyard, and spend their vacations piled into it. Mrs Burke from across the street knits them all hats for Christmas. Lockwood adds new framed articles on the walls and new knick-knacks on the bookshelves.

He's not sure when, but one day 35 Portland Row stops being the home his parents left behind and becomes his home. Their home: his, and Lucy's, and George's (and Donut's. And Kipps' when he comes over for lunch on Sundays. And Flo's when she swings by using her own keys. And Barnes' when he stays for tea after long work days).

So they keep going as they have, day after day, year after year, slowly growing older. Wounds heal and scars fade. The sun shines through the kitchen windows on summer mornings. The smell of persian food fills the air every evening. Old rapiers get dusty in the umbrella stand. There aren't any ghosts between their walls, both real and metaphorical.

Everything is alright.

#def wrote this with a cot3 mindset but it can be read as platonic #still #they're in love your honor #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #george karim #lucy carlyle #poly co #locklyle #georcy #georgewood #cot3 #💙🖤🧡

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so-i-did-this-thing · 2 months ago

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from a trans guy stuck in florida, do you have any advice on getting out of here? I saw that you moved to new england which is, coincidentally, the place I'm trying to go too. i feel like I either oversimplify or overcomplicate moving away until it's just not possible in my mind. how did you manage to do it?

I played a long game wrt my exit strategy. I left my toxic industry (advertising) of 20+ years behind in 2018 and built up experience over the next 4 years in a new field (civic tech) where remote work was the norm. Once I landed a fully remote job, I kicked off the moving plan.

Once I had a new, remote job secure, my partner and I started looking for homes and eventually were referred to a Realtor who specialized in remote sales. I had to trust her and the inspector to give us an honest assessment of a house I wouldn't see in person until the day we moved in. It was stressful, ngl.

I was very, very lucky in that I could move in with my mother in Orlando for several months, which let me sell my old place, first, and be flexible on move-in dates. The actual move was done via a few container services.

So, my advice for initial prep:

Start downsizing, both in terms of stuff and places where you may be overspending.

Get job prospects in sight

Save for a down payment / deposit

Get your credit to "excellent," if possible. (I learned my name change fucked up my score, so had to spend a lot of time fixing that)

Research multiple towns based on your needs

Find someone in that area to house hunt for you and figure out a budget

Downsize your stuff again. More. No, more than that.

Prep for moving costs

Start packing the stuff you won't need for a while. Keep packing until it's time to move.

Hire a container service that isn't PODS. (U-pack was good to me.)

Get your pet logistics in order (if you have any)

Get your vehicle in order

I had a lot of spreadsheets and checklists t9 get me through the sale of my old place and everything I needed to do to buy and move into a new one. Maybe similar is a good place to start, because there are little things (like downsizing) you can do, now. Good luck.

#chit chat #trans stuff

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homeinspectorclayton · 15 days ago

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How does this year buying a great burg home in Massachusetts

How Buying a Great Burg Home in Massachusetts This Year Is a Smart Move This year presents an exceptional opportunity to buy a home in Massachusetts’s charming burgs. Here’s why several factors make this a wise decision. Affordability Meets Quality Living Massachusetts’s burgs offer an appealing balance between cost and quality. Home prices are more affordable compared to urban centers. This…

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#ASHI #Boston home inspectors #buying a house #certified home inspector massachusetts #fix safety issues #Home buying #Home inspection #home inspection boston #home inspection massachusetts #Home inspector #Pre offer home inspection

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221beloved · 2 months ago

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Favourite Scent

(Link to ao3)

“Well then.” Lestrade held the door open to let them in. “You’ve got 10 minutes.” Sherlock stepped past him and into the small flat where the victim had been found, John on his heels. He hadn’t quite crossed the threshold when the disgusting smell hit him. The scent of reeking, stale alcohol and smoke was positively fogging the flat, and Sherlock was sure that if he’d been wearing glasses, they would’ve been fogged up too. Sherlock just wrinkled his nose in disgust and stepped in further, examining the bleak furnishing. Yet from the corner of his eye he could see John tense up and go terribly stiff. When Sherlock turned to look at him questioningly, John only squared his shoulders and nodded for him to continue. Sherlock tilted his head doubtfully, but when John only repeated his gesture, he slowly turned back towards the woman lying face down on the floor, the shards of a shattered bottle next to her.

---

Almost exactly ten minutes later Sherlock and John were exiting the building, after Sherlock confirmed Lestrade’s theory of a suicide. The inspector had just wanted to hear Sherlock’s opinion on it. Probably because Sherlock had caught at least four murderers of supposed suicides over the last month.

Now, case closed, the two of them were walking down the street, yet Sherlock couldn’t let go entirely. “It was the scent, wasn’t it?” John looked up at him. “Hm?”

“In the flat,” Sherlock clarified. “You were… tense. It was the smell.”

John looked ahead and sighed.

“Yeah,” he confirmed eventually. “Brought me back to… unpleasant times. My father was a drinker, too. Sometimes, when his day had been bad, I would come home to the house smelling exactly like that. Those evenings were never fun.”

He sighed again and paused briefly. “And the fact that today it was a woman… It reminded me of Harry. She’s clean at the moment, question is just for how long. And to think of her, like this…”

Sherlock stepped closer and took John’s hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Well, scent memory and emotion are strongly intertwined, scents can trigger strong associations,” Sherlock suggested.

“Don’t have to tell me that,” John mumbled. “Afghanistan and all that. And drinking…”

Sherlock nodded and squeezed John’s hand again.

“What’s your favourite scent then?” Sherlock asked after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“Your favourite scent. What is it?”

John frowned, tilted his head. “It depends, I suppose. As a child I loved the smell of my grandma. She wore a really terrible perfume, heavy. Pressing, really. Made it hard to breathe when she was hugging you.” He huffed at the memory, smiling.

“But smelling her always meant good times were coming. She was a no nonsense type of person, you didn’t want her to be mad at you, but she absolutely spoiled Harry and me. She brought us into town to visit the market and buy us things, brought us to the seaside, was always cooking and baking for us.”

John was smiling fondly. “But those are passed times. I liked the smell of the library when I was at uni, I think. And now…”

He turned to look at Sherlock, almost sheepishly. “I like, Baker Street. The smell, I mean, of our flat. It’s, it’s the scent of us, somehow. Of our life together. I don’t know what’s spreading that stuffy scent, the sofa maybe, or the carpet, but there’s also the wood, the paper, the cleaning stuff for your flasks and all that. Hell, I even like your awful smelling experiments. I know it’s home. I think, I think it’s your scent I love most.”

He looked at his feet, while Sherlock was staring at him bluntly. He’d just wanted to distract John from his earlier memory, and now his heart was hammering as though he’d just run a marathon and his limbs were feeling all tingly.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said eventually, his tone soft. “Not even I like the smell of my experiments most of the time. It’s your scent that makes it all bearable.”

John looked at him then, slightly flushed, but smiling. He shook his head. “We’re both ridiculous,” he chuckled. “Composing poetry about the scent of each other.”

He squeezed Sherlock’s hand back, bumping into his side playfully. “Let’s go home then, refresh our scent memory.”

Sherlock raised his free hand to hail a cab.

Please tell me if you want to be added or removed from the list!

@flufftober @meetinginsamarra @a-victorian-girl @lisbeth-kk @topsyturvy-turtely

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#flufftober2024 #day 03 #bbc sherlock #johnlock

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