#this is a soap box I will never get off
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
As an allied health professional working in community aged care, I CANNOT stress enough how important this is. And how much it means to people.
Today I visited a client for the first time. He had a couple of specific things he wanted from my interventions but it boiled down to one thing:
“If I can take some pressure off [wife], that’s what I want”
This is a man who is used to being independent and is now reliant on his wife for so much. He waters the garden from his wheelchair but needs his wife to unwind and rewind the house. His desire to have a retractable hose reel installed was not only about independence - it’s about doing something to care for his wife.
The FIRST thing any health professional should ask a person is what they would like to achieve from our services. And then we need to actually listen, and come up with a plan that best supports these goals.
A doctor discovers an important question patients should be asked
This patient isn’t usually mine, but today I’m covering for my partner in our family-practice office, so he has been slipped into my schedule.
Reading his chart, I have an ominous feeling that this visit won’t be simple.
A tall, lanky man with an air of quiet dignity, he is 88. His legs are swollen, and merely talking makes him short of breath.
He suffers from both congestive heart failure and renal failure. It’s a medical Catch-22: When one condition is treated and gets better, the other condition gets worse. His past year has been an endless cycle of medication adjustments carried out by dueling specialists and punctuated by emergency-room visits and hospitalizations.
Hemodialysis would break the medical stalemate, but my patient flatly refuses it. Given his frail health, and the discomfort and inconvenience involved, I can’t blame him.
Now his cardiologist has referred him back to us, his primary-care providers. Why send him here and not to the ER? I wonder fleetingly.
With us is his daughter, who has driven from Philadelphia, an hour away. She seems dutiful but wary, awaiting the clinical wisdom of yet another doctor.
After 30 years of practice, I know that I can’t possibly solve this man’s medical conundrum.
A cardiologist and a nephrologist haven’t been able to help him, I reflect,so how can I? I’m a family doctor, not a magician. I can send him back to the ER, and they’ll admit him to the hospital. But that will just continue the cycle… .
Still, my first instinct is to do something to improve the functioning of his heart and kidneys. I start mulling over the possibilities, knowing all the while that it’s useless to try.
Then I remember a visiting palliative-care physician’s words about caring for the fragile elderly: “We forget to ask patients what they want from their care. What are their goals?”
I pause, then look this frail, dignified man in the eye.
“What are your goals for your care?” I ask. “How can I help you?”
The patient’s desire
My intuition tells me that he, like many patients in their 80s, harbors a fund of hard-won wisdom.
He won’t ask me to fix his kidneys or his heart, I think. He’ll say something noble and poignant: “I’d like to see my great-granddaughter get married next spring,” or “Help me to live long enough so that my wife and I can celebrate our 60th wedding anniversary.”
His daughter, looking tense, also faces her father and waits.
“I would like to be able to walk without falling,” he says. “Falling is horrible.”
This catches me off guard.
That’s all?
But it makes perfect sense. With challenging medical conditions commanding his caregivers’ attention, something as simple as walking is easily overlooked.
A wonderful geriatric nurse practitioner’s words come to mind: “Our goal for younger people is to help them live long and healthy lives; our goal for older patients should be to maximize their function.”
Suddenly I feel that I may be able to help, after all.
“We can order physical therapy — and there’s no need to admit you to the hospital for that,” I suggest, unsure of how this will go over.
He smiles. His daughter sighs with relief.
“He really wants to stay at home,” she says matter-of-factly.
As new as our doctor-patient relationship is, I feel emboldened to tackle the big, unspoken question looming over us.
“I know that you’ve decided against dialysis, and I can understand your decision,” I say. “And with your heart failure getting worse, your health is unlikely to improve.”
He nods.
“We have services designed to help keep you comfortable for whatever time you have left,” I venture. “And you could stay at home.”
Again, his daughter looks relieved. And he seems … well … surprisingly fine with the plan.
I call our hospice service, arranging for a nurse to visit him later today to set up physical therapy and to begin plans to help him to stay comfortable — at home.
Back home
Although I never see him again, over the next few months I sign the order forms faxed by his hospice nurses. I speak once with his granddaughter. It’s somewhat hard on his wife to have him die at home, she says, but he’s adamant that he wants to stay there.
A faxed request for sublingual morphine (used in the terminal stages of dying) prompts me to call to check up on him.
The nurse confirms that he is near death.
I feel a twinge of misgiving: Is his family happy with the process that I set in place? Does our one brief encounter qualify me to be his primary-care provider? Should I visit them all at home?
Two days later, and two months after we first met, I fill out his death certificate.
Looking back, I reflect: He didn’t go back to the hospital, he had no more falls, and he died at home, which is what he wanted. But I wonder if his wife felt the same.
Several months later, a new name appears on my patient schedule: It’s his wife.
“My family all thought I should see you,” she explains.
She, too, is in her late 80s and frail, but independent and mentally sharp. Yes, she is grieving the loss of her husband, and she’s lost some weight. No, she isn’t depressed. Her husband died peacefully at home, and it felt like the right thing for everyone.
“He liked you,” she says.
She’s suffering from fatigue and anemia. About a year ago, a hematologist diagnosed her with myelodysplasia (a bone marrow failure, often terminal). But six months back, she stopped going for medical care.
I ask why.
“They were just doing more and more tests,” she says. “And I wasn’t getting any better.”
Now I know what to do. I look her in the eye and ask:
“What are your goals for your care, and how can I help you?”
-Mitch Kaminski
Source
#this is a soap box I will never get off#one simple question can make the biggest difference#patient care#thoughts#person centred care
117K notes
·
View notes
Text
It's Sunday, and Chapter 14 of The Red Room has been posted! A lot has lead up to this moment, so follow Hank's perspective of the evening and enjoy <3
Featuring a beautifully intimate render by @connor-sent-by-cyberlife! This chapter also officially pushes this fic past 100k words!
The Red Room (111850 words) by rking200 Chapters: 14/? Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Original Chloe | RT600, Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Stalking, Vomiting, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Hank Anderson, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor is a Mess (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Missing Persons, Abduction, Manipulation, Death Threats, Mental Health Issues, Zlatko didn't do it, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Sex at some point Summary: Connor Stern is a law school dropout who dreams of making it big in the music industry. He manages to get into a special apprenticeship program with the musical genius Elijah Kamski and, despite working two jobs and struggling to stay afloat, feels like his dream is finally within his grasp. When Hank Anderson stumbles into the lounge Connor performs at, The Red Room, he becomes entranced with him. As Hank falls in love with Connor's voice, he ends up entangled with conflicting emotions and delicate situations. Slowly, his nights are filled with Connor's songs and his closeness, even if he feels he doesn't deserve it. They reach several roadblocks along the way of getting closer, some more dangerous than others. A collaboration written alongside Connor-sent-by-Cyberlife for the Reverse Big Bang 2024, told with a POV alternating between Hank and Connor. Chapters added weekly.
#hankcon#dbh fic#dbhrbb2024#chapter update#this is the steamy chapter#so please be warned and read responsibly xD#100k words is crazy#i've never written anything this long#it's so nice to know everyone's enjoying it#i used to really hold back my writing from getting too lengthy#due to readers telling me they wouldn't read anything over 2k#this is like. oldschool ff.net days#but that was the start of my fandom experience and it really shaped how I wrote#Coming back from a ten-year writing hiatus and jumping into this project was crazy. I went from not writing for TEN FUCKING YEARS#to writing upwards of 2k words a day#anyway#i will step off of this soap box#please go enjoy the smut <3
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
i found a terf in my followers and blocked them across all like 12 of my tumblrs, let that be a lesson to any of u annoying ass crypto terfs that think u can sneak by in fandom - im not engaging with u bc you’re a hateful idiot, i will find u, and i will block u, and i hope the door fucks your heel when it slams on the way out
#terfs love to follow non-binary & trans masc people & pretend like they’re on our side#first of all if u think i’d overlook the insane misogyny u direct towards trans women ur out of ur mind#second of all i don’t need ur colonizing bioessentialist nonsense being vimitted on me thanks#third of all i KNOW u hate me for being bisexual & celebratory of the fact that i fuck both women and men#i’m not falling for ur fucking febfem bullshit i’m not a self hating 19 year old#nor am i about to prioritize the voices of people who have never even interacted with actual sex workers#over the voices of. ya know. actual fucking sex workers.#getting on my soap box#genuinely pissed me off seeing this i saw them like a few posts and reply to a jonsa post with 'we hate jonsa bc it's incest'#bitch i'll kill you first for being a terf raise u back uncat style and kill u a second time for being annoying
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
found out a new fun way kindle screws customers over today!
#i will NEVER get off my physical media soap box#kindle/streaming/license > actually owning the thing is the devil#my post
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
What do u think about aoyama from bnha? :)
I’ve been out of the bnha circle for awhile, but I always liked him!!! He was one of the characters that seemed like he would’ve been a great friend to Izuku even if circumstances had been different and Izuku had never gone to UA, if that makes sense? Like whether Izuku had a quirk that destroyed his body similar to Aoyama or Izuku was still quirkless, I just see Aoyama as wanting to be his friend tbh. I vaguely remember reading a fic where he and Izuku were friends and I loved that dynamic a lot
I saw some posts about him being revealed as the traitor recently and I wasn’t too surprised to hear it, he was almost pointedly inconspicuous as a character and there wasn’t as much deep-diving into his backstory as the other 1-A students’ when we were first learning about them. I think he’s a neat character especially with that context, and with the reveal I think there’s great potential for some damn good angst and hurt/comfort fics tbh
(Also: as a girlie with chronic stomach issues, I’m always gonna stan a tummy-hurty king 👑✨)
#starlight fandom#starlight anon#thepossumsaretakingover#Aoyama is lowkey proof that even in slash-dominated-fandoms we still have some misogyny and sexism to unpack tbh#because he’s kinda been set up as a really fucking cool character that I think ppl could ship with any of their faves#but at least when I’ve seen him in fics he’s always been delegated to Background Gay Guy Friend#because he’s kinda twinky and flamboyant and fans don’t REALLY like feminine men as much as they claim imho#anyway getting off that soap box - I like him; I think he’s neat; there’s a lot of cool stuff to consider -#with him being the traitor and being blackmailed/threatened into it#and the parallels between him and Izuku and how he never has had a moment of peace#give me some soft hurt-comfort for Aoyama where someone draws him a bath and rubs his shoulders until he cries#I think he deserves it!!!! that’s just a kid!!!!!#also thank you for asking!!!!!!! hope you have a good day!!!!!!
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Every time i have to see this header image on an ad for a poorly written hetero omegaverse story available on a scam app the cishets owe me 10 dollars
#stuff and things#that image does not entice me it makes me fear for the girl's safety#also i will never forgive the straights for what they did to omegaverse#the possessiveness in the men (it's always the men) in those stories is so fucking offputting#and the way the women just wilt and fawn and find it soooooo attractive#i just#i don't get it#i fuck with omageverse occasionally but it's not my go to for tropes#also it's always gay because what is the /point/ what is the point if it's alpha man omega woman#you just reinvented cishetero relationships but made them worse#anyway I'll get off my soap box#if you're into it no judgment kink tomato and all that#i just personally don't find it appealing
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Has your muse ever rejected or pushed away the well-intentioned invitations of another? Why?
Classical Literature Meme
"--D'pends th'sort'a invitations" Ron mused, considering the bottom of his empty tumbler; wondering if he could risk another before making his way home. He settled on a firm maybe, and fixed instead on Ben's query. "If we're talkin' a party invite, them I don't turn dahn f'nuffin'-" Not true, but not a harmful fib either. He could live with that if it meant projecting the species of affable that might earn his bar downtown some trade. "Bu' if we're talkin' roman'ic invitations, advances, wha'evah y'wanna call it..."
Those...
Those hit different.
A lick'a flirtation never went amiss, granted. Ron was just that sort of chap; at ease with himself, liberal with a compliment if in his opinion one's deserved; a bit of a rogue, but respectful with it. Woe betide a letch at work in his vicinity. They'd come off second best and had. This weren't no bluff. But that aside and beyond his friendly, East End Charming nature lay walls so high they'd kiss cloud cover on an open sky, not a cloud in it day. There beyond lay all which Ron wanted not to exist about himself; the crippling paranoia, delusions, psychosis and their cause which he'd not name in polite company because, so he'd learned from those closest to him upon his diagnosis, the word terrified people. And it made them terrified of him. So while he couldn't at all get rid of the cause of his ills, he could manage it as best he could, cope his way through socialisation in a way that kept the bulk of the symptoms he couldn't help but have minimised, and keep people well out of the range of what-all that very much proverbial wall had behind it. Because they'd be terrified of him if they found out, wouldn't they. Just like his mum had been, and his brothers had been, and the rest and that--
It'd hurt beyond his ability to stand it when his family turned.
Off someone he loved and wanted as his, always? It didn't bear thought.
But none of that was for telling to Ben though, so Ron collected up their tumblers, hopped off his stool, turned slightly to ask, "Same again, yeah?", then made for the bar. And he hoped, and hoped, as the young man's gaze lay heavy on his back, that he'd let the topic drop on Ron's return.
#kylowrecked#NYC!verse#<- with Ben#//fankoo for sending this in darling friend :3#tw: mental illness#//tiny fyi that I'm sure you don't need my dear but other readers may--#//there's no stigma or hate for folks with mental health issues here; Ron's talking about himself and his own experiences/feelings only#//not implying that folks with the same condition as his or a similar one deserve to be or should be feared#//that is not at all true and would never be a message I or this blog put out or endorsed#//-small pumpkin gets off soap box-
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I work in an academic library and sometimes the university stance (you must buy your textbooks) and the library stance (don’t pay for anything ever) are not in communication with each other, which can be very confusing. If you are in college PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE go to your library!
Library staff (reference in particular) are literally there to help you find resources! Academic databases and websites do not function like google - there is not an underlying learning algorithm that can guess what you want. Academic research is not intuitive - it’s a SKILL that you can learn and library reference staff already have those skills and we WANT to help you get the resources and info you need. Many libraries offer some sort of an ask a librarian service - email and/or live chat (with a real person!) that you CAN and SHOULD use if you are having trouble accessing or finding resources. I PROMISE YOU - no one will laugh or shame you for not knowing how to navigate archaic academic resources. Library database and article access is a complicated beast and you’d be amazed at how many FACULTY don’t know how to properly use the library or are fully aware of what the library can get if you just ask. And the faculty often assume that students have a MUCH HIGHER baseline of what students know how to do with regards to research, and that knowledge gap is only getting bigger (looking at you AI) so PLEASE do not feel bad if you are struggling at research and do not be afraid to ASK FOR HELP.
Even if you think you checked the library website and can’t find access, ask someone. Milage will vary depending on the size of your school but there may be multiple ways to access a single article and odds are you aren’t going to know to check all of them but staff will. And if you truly don’t have access, ask about interlibrary loan. You can request articles as well as physical materials and often those request get filled quickly and at no extra cost to you.
Also - if your professor is requesting specific books for class, ask them about putting a copy on course reserve. A lot of folks don’t know about reserves (faculty included) but academic libraries will put copies of course texts on course reserve, meaning that those books are specifically on hold for use by a class at the instructors request. Reserves often cannot be checked out for very long (ie a few hours) but that is by design - so that if folks for whatever reason cannot get access to a book on their own, there is a library copy that should be more available to them. It’s not a perfect system, and there may be a fight to get the one copy but it’s an attempt to make course materials more equitably accessible (rather than having one library copy of a required text that someone checks out and hogs for the whole semester).
TL;DR - I work in an academic library and staff WANT TO HELP YOU FIND RESOURCES. People don’t know the true extent of how libraries (particularly academic ones) will go above and beyond to ensure you have access to things you need. Dont get discouraged if you can’t access things, no one expects you to know how to do it so ALWAYS ALWAYS ask library staff. I promise we want to help you. It’s literally what we’re here for.
(Not to mention that using library services is the most effective way to ensure that the library can keep providing access and services - we rely a lot on usage statistics so the more you ask for help, the better we can be at actually helping)
Beware!
#okay I’ll get off my library soap box now#sorry but not sorry#I have learned so much about academic libraries and research that I would never have known if I didn’t work here#and it’s a shame because I could have been a much better student if I knew what kind of help I could get#so now I always try to tell folks not to be afraid of using the libraries because we can HELP SO MUCH but people are still working with#an antiquated idea of what a library can do and is for#everything is learned and research is just another skill and we want you to develop those skills so please ask us#my favorite patron interactions are usually with younger undergrads who are soooo surprised and excited when I tell them yes we have this#article and yes you can meet with a subject librarian to talk about your research paper no you aren’t bothering us yes please come back#when you need help again#as someone who came into library work without going to library school trust me the library is not your enemy#can’t always say the same for general university admin but the libraries are on your side
309K notes
·
View notes
Text
tattoos are just a museum of all the different phases of you throughout your life
#this is why it always frustrates me when people always question tattoos#like that is just someone eternally making a phase of their life visible on their body#like UGH tattoos are literally just a physical representation of phases people go through!!!!!!#anyway#this is why i will never feel bad for an impulsive tattoo!!#cause i am leaving a physical trace of who i used to be for future me#which i think is really sweet#anyway i’ll get off my soap box now
0 notes
Text
Types of lingerie they'd go a little feral over — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters
Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria
CW: mid/plus-size reader, photos of people wearing lingerie!, mentions of sex/sexual activities
Photos are not indicative of reader's body type/skin colour/other physical attributes! Just meant to be examples, but us bigger girls deserve some rep on here (but also why is it so hard to find cute pics of mid/plus-size girlies that aren't ads or extremely edited?)
All rights go to owners of the photos! I tried to crop out their faces as best I could <3
John Price
Price would love anything feminine. He adores when you play into his housewife kink, parading around the house in babydoll dresses and fur-lined robes (preferably sheer). He wouldn't even bother with taking the pieces off once he gets his hands on you, simply pulling and adjusting where necessary. Not above ripping either, but don't worry, he'll gladly buy you some new sets. Maybe he should get you some of those crotchless panties, poppet, would save him a lot of hassle.
Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish
Listen, as much as he loves it seeing you all dolled up, there is nothing that gets him going quicker than you in some raggedy, hole-ridden comfy clothes, preferably when they're his. His boxers framing your plump ass so nicely, digging into your flesh a bit when you move and his shirt doing nothing to hide the jiggle of your tits while your nipples poke through the fabric. If he sees you like this, his hands are all over you in a split second. God forbid your shirt is cropped, showing off your soft tummy and the underside of your breasts — you couldn't pry him off with a crowbar.
(you cannot tell me Johnny doesn't own some dumbass boxers like this)
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
In fear of repeating myself, I think Simon would also go a little dreamy-eyed over you in your comfies. Except, unlike Johnny, he loves those sweet little pj-sets you wear. He's still a little taken aback every time he comes home to you curled up on his — your — couch. The realization that he has something this sweet to come home to — that he has a home at all, hitting him like a freight train. Like Price, doesn't bother taking your pajamas off when he pounces on you. Just makes it easier for him to tuck you into bed after he's done with you.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
Garters, belts, straps, buckles, the whole thing. And best believe he's the one picking them out, too. You'll randomly find boxes on your bed, the contents in different styles, colours, fabrics. He insists you model them for him, or send him pictures if he's deployed. The sets are an absolute nightmare to get into, but he'll gladly help you take them off, darlin'. Don't mind him though, if he snaps a photo or two in the process. Also loves it when you wear lingerie as part of an actual outfit. What can I say, the man loves showing you off (with the knowledge he's the only one that gets to see the full sets and everything underneath them later).
König
Anything resembling some cheap halloween costume from party city. It honestly doesn't matter to him what; sexy secretary, naughty nurse, you name it. Literally whatever. He will lose his mind a little if you go as far as to engage in some roleplay pertaining to whatever you're wearing — acting like he's your boss or your patient. Oh, a pair of animal ears can and will make his eyes roll back in his head. (He will, however, ensure that your outfits are of relatively good quality — they've gotta outlast a least a few rounds, Schatzi).
Philip Graves
Ugh, he's so nasty (affectionate). He wants you to look hyper-feminine. His perfect little all-american wife (even if you've never set foot in the usa, or don't yet wear a ring on your finger) in her hyper-feminine lingerie, waiting for her soldier to come home. Frilly bras, lacy undies and silky night dresses in white or pink or any pastel shade. He gets off on the innocence they exude — makes him want to ruin you. And then wife you up. Maybe give you a baby or two.
Alejandro Vargas
Corsets!!! Or anything somewhat structured, really. This man adores the shape of your body no matter what, and the way the corset only accentuates the curve of your waist and pushes your tits up so deliciously has him rock fucking hard. If you choose to add some thigh-highs to that with the plush fat of your thighs spilling over the edge you may as well have killed him. He also has this weird infatuation with the marks the corset leaves on your skin after you (or he) take it off.
Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra
This poor man nearly faints the first time you wear lingerie for him (and pretty much every time after that). It doesn't particularly matter to him what it is, but he does like it when you stick to the classics: simple lacy bra and panty set. He likes that it makes you feel confident and (relatively) comfortable, as your comfort is always his number one priority. He also just thinks the simplicity of the sets helps accentuate the beauty of your body, rather than distract from it.
Valeria Garza
Anything expensive. Like, crazy expensive. She has the money, amor, why not spend it on something she enjoys? She'll make sure you only wear the highest quality fabrics (and that goes for all your clothing, by the way, she likes taking care of her girl). There are diamonds glittering all over your body, highlighting all your curves and twinkling with every move you make, and a nice string of pearls disappearing between your folds.
(I couldn't find ANY photos of this type of lingerie on bigger bodies, my apologies. Rest assured Valeria will get everything custom-made for you — remember, only the best for her girl)
#group posts#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#soap x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#price x reader#john price x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#konig x reader#könig x reader#graves x reader#philip graves x reader#alejandro x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#rudy x reader#rodolfo parra x reader#valeria garza x reader#valeria x reader#cod imagine#141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#simon ghost x reader#call of duty#captain price#ghost
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
🥀 … ( headcanons ) perv anton ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 앤톤 ՞
⸃ ⸰ ⌁ roommates to lovers with perv anton headcannons ヾ
BF!앤톤 ・ fem!reader g ・ smut cw ・unprotected sex, free use mention, somo kink wc ・ 0.9k | click to library
request. any perv!anton drabbles pls 🙏🏻😓
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 been a while since i did perv!idol
before you guys get into a relationship…
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: assumed you were a boy , he was shocked to see a girl at his front door ﹚ .ᐟ
his hair covering his eyes , as he stared at you — you were barely clothed , boxes in front of you. “hello.” his eyes never leaving your chest. “im your new roommate.” he’s confused. “you’re a girl.” you look down at your chest where he was also looking then back at him. “so i’ve been told , now are you gonna let me in?”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: he doesn’t even wait until you’re fully settled for his perversions to start ﹚ .ᐟ
a barely shows you to your room before retreating back to his room , closing and locking his door. pulling his pants down , jerking off with the thought of your boobs on his mind , the thought of cumming all over them had him cumming quickly into his hand , the first time he’d ever came so much. “hey.” his post nut clarity hitting him as you knocked on the door , he couldn’t believe he did that , but that doesn’t stop him from doing again and again.
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: finds a pair of your underwear mixed into his clothes during wash day ﹚ .ᐟ
and instead of sitting them in your room , he takes them into his room , holding them to his nose as he gets off to sight of your body from when he got a glimpse of it when you left it slightly open when you were showing and he walked by. he still remembers how he stood in the door , jerking off to sight of your body , the soap dripping down the crevices of your bust. he came so much he made a mess on the door he had to clean it up without moving the door.
“sh-shit.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: eventually gets caught by you ﹚ .ᐟ
it’s not like you didn’t know though , you knew since the week you came , his innocent and shy face didn’t hide the pervert inside. there’s only so many pair of panties that go missing before you start to think you’re going crazy. “not to mention , that day you watched me in the shower , you left a mess on the door.” he’s embarrassed but he’s still stroking his cock. “if you wanted to fuck me you could’ve just asked , instead of stealing my panties , and you could’ve gave them back.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: spends the rest of that night allowing you fuck him dumb ﹚ .ᐟ
he can’t even count how many times he’s cum , all he could think about is you riding his cock , milking him for all his cum , his dirtiest fantasies coming to life that night. cumming all over your face , letting his milky thick cum spill down your chin , down to your titties , which makes him harder , it literally takes him like three hours before you had to tap out and even then he was still hard , and had to jerk off and even then he didn’t hide it , he laid right next to your naked cum covered body , stroking his cock.
“fu-fuck fuck i can’t stop cumming , im still so hard.”
after you get into a relationship his perversions don’t stop, in fact they get worse…
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: doesn't stop stealing your panties ﹚ .ᐟ
in his nasty head he’s like “she’s my girlfriend now so she won’t mind” you often find your panties covered in his cum , and he just smiles bashfully at you.
“sorry baby , i just got carried away, they just smelled like you and you know how i get when it comes to you.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: is more touchy feely now that you’re all his ﹚ .ᐟ
having to move his hands off your ass constantly because he can’t stop touching it. “tonnie stop touching my ass please.” he doesn’t and you don’t even stop him after that, even when he stands behind you and rut against you like a horny dog.
“sh-shit let’s go back to the room.”
speaking of sex…
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: just gets nastier as your relationship progresses ﹚ .ᐟ
now that you’ve given him free reign of your body , he uses that to his advantage , bending you over any surfaces , pressing his hard cock against you. “fuck , you look so good right now.” I mean he’s hard all the time. “bend over baby , i just need to feel you.” pulling your pants down. “just the tip , fuck I promise.” but he never really means it , pushing fully into you , fucking you into the very surface he bent you over stuffing you full of his thick load.
“fuck that’s it just keep taking my cum…”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: loves somophillia ﹚ .ᐟ
this mixed with the verbal consent that you’ve given him to use you whenever he wants just makes him crazy , whenever he wakes up in the middle of the night horny and doesn’t want to wake you , he’ll just roll on his side and slide right inside your waiting cunt , fucking your sleeping body , not even bothering to pull out after cumming , you wake up with his cock still inside you… hard and ready to fuck again.
“got hard last night and I need you.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: after sex needs to be as close as he can ﹚ .ᐟ
his head on your bare chest , his thumb on your nipple just toying with it as he came down from his high , both of you completely fucked out , unable to move. “fuck i love you so much.”
yeah he’s gross , but he’s your gross boy…
©️LUVYENI
#riize x imagine#riize x reader#riize smut#riize hard thoughts#riize hard hours#riize scenarios#anton hard thoughts#anton hard hours#anton scenarios#anton smut#anton x reader
963 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hi, so I usually don't post Owl House stuff but I really wanted to comment on this.
This is what postpartum anxiety is like.
Every decision, every potential outcome, every possible future is running through your head for every choice you make because you are suddenly the protector and care giver for a whole entire person. You flog yourself with the what-ifs until you're completely frozen and overwhelmed.
So just a PSA. If you decide to have kids and you start feeling this way, reach out. Talk to a therapist. Find other moms that have been through it. Talk to your obgyn about medication. Because we're not meant to do this alone, and it's okay (good, even!) to ask for help.
Take care of yourselves ❤️
#momblr#Postpartum anxiety#PPA#Really love your comic moringmark#I never saw owl house but I genuinely enjoy your stuff#Getting off the soap box now#Sorry for hijacking this
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
TF141 reactions to "can you get this thing off the top shelf for me?"
inspired by @cod-dump's height hcs :)
chronologically:
you ask PRICE first. seems like a harmless enough question to you but he just says, "what kind of captain would i be if i solved all your problems for you?"
what the fuck, you think.
"you can do it," he says. "problem-solve. think tall thoughts."
then SOAP walks by, so you ask him next. he sees price standing there looking highly amused (and you looking highly irritated). soap would never, never miss an opportunity to cause problems on purpose, and if price is already picking on you, well...
you're relieved for half a second when soap reaches up and grabs the box you wanted. he opens it, grabs a handful of the granola inside (THAT YOU WANTED) and tosses it into his own mouth. then he puts the box back. on a higher shelf.
by the time GAZ notices what's happening, you're halfway climbing up the shelves to get it your damn self. he sees the shelves leaning away from the wall dangerously and obviously he pushes them back into place with one hand and pulls you back to the ground with the other. does not understand your exasperation with him; he was keeping you from cracking your head open??
so finally GHOST comes up behind you both and grabs the box you want. he turns. offers it to you. finally.
when you go to grab it from him, he keeps ahold of it and leans in. he would like you to share.
...
more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag
#mine#snippet#poly 141#cod#cod x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#poly!141#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#simon ghost riley#john price#captain price#captain john price#price cod#ghost#ghost cod#soap cod#simon riley#ghost riley#soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap x you#johnny mactavish x reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
absolutely not relevant but know yall will understand someone got outed in my rtv fandom for having some kinda weird kinks and now everyone is discoursing about how incest kinks are immoral and i'm out here like
#i got blocked by a mutual over this. it was like on some reddit forums being cringe and saying shit like 'baby batter'#i'm sorry have we not all let our horniness taken us to somewhere embarassing on occassion? u telling me u never got off to stepmom stuff??#everyone was upset over him finding braces sexy and like i get it but i do think there's a difference between lowkey being into#very minor age regression stuff and straight up cp. like he's not even on diaper forums he just likes to be called daddy.#why are we discoursing if u think hes annoying just mute/block and move on#like on the scale of 'kinks that maybe do in fact say something about how weird you are' i think braces is not that bad.#and INCEST? alright.#getting on my soap box
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
✞︎ ︎YOUR OWN PERSONAL JESUS.
SOMEONE TO HEAR YOUR PRAYERS. SOMEONE WHO CARES.
cw: religious!reader x sevika, inspo from personal jesus by depeche mode, dark themes [drinking addiction, religious crisis, trauma/ptsd, etc.], a mention of isha because i’m evil, as well as religious themes, nasty sloppy dirty sinful dyke sex [body worship + tribbing] 18+ 🧛🏿
word count: 14.1k
i. FEELING UNKNOWN AND YOU’RE ALL ALONE
sad, dull, gray, gloomy, what else could she use to describe it? constant rain, a chronic form of seasonal depression that lingered in the air no matter where she went. her therapist prescribed her some fresh air, but the air is never fresh here. it’s thick with fog, the humidity weighs down on your shoulders and makes it unbearable to trudge through. sure, the sun shines, but it never peeks out from behind the clouds, leaving the town in a dark, unsaturated gleam.
she crosses the threshold into her apartment, hair clinging to the back of her neck and the sides of her face due to a mix of humidity and sweat. her apartment might be more vapid than the outside world, it’s a small box that overlooks the parking lot and a few 24 hour diners across the street. the walls are all white, along with the ceiling and cabinets, and the carpet is scratchy and gray. she hardly has any furniture, a small couch with a tv propped up on a cardboard box facing it. no coffee table, chairs, or shelves, but she doesn’t spend much time out here anyways.
her ribs start to ache, and the growing hunger in her stomach only makes it worse. she scours her cupboards for a snack, and settles for half a bar of dark chocolate and a glass of whiskey. the couch is small and hard and it barely offers any comfort to her tired body. on the tv, the meteorologist blabbers away about the predicted weather for the week. she feels bad for him, the poor guy probably wanted a bigger and better job than this. foreseeing the same weather for 365 days straight. cold, cloudy, wet, maybe snow if we get lucky.
the dark chocolate she’s nibbling on is cheap and tastes identical to the plastic wrapper it came in, and the burn of the whiskey is only adding to the bitter taste. but at least it soothes her mind. she sighs, flicks off the television, and heads for the shower. the last thing she wants to be right now is even more wet, but the promising warmth of the water will at least soothe some of the pain in her shoulders.
a bone-chilling squeak rings out through the bathroom as she twists the faucet on, and the light flickers as if in response to the noise. sevika peels her clothes off, her sweatpants dropping to the floor and her shirt still trying to hang on to her body. her ribs are more prominent than they’ve ever been, and she can see her muscles slowly starting to wither away with how frequently she skips the gym.
steam fills the room, the foggy clouds of it wisp around her as she studies herself until she can’t see her reflection anymore. it’s all blurry— her reflection, the walls, her own hands in front of her face. her left arm has the deepest and darkest scars she’s ever seen, most of them are jagged from the way her stitches were inserted. she can hardly stand to look at herself anymore, so maybe it’s a good thing the mirror is fogged up.
in the shower she only washes herself for a quick second, rubbing a thin layer of soap all over her body and scrubbing her scalp with shampoo. she debates on adding conditioner, but she feels as if she’ll faint if she’s in the shower for another second. the hot water quickly runs out, and sevika only notices how scorching her water was when it switches over to room temperature.
as soon as she steps out of the shower, she wraps herself up in her towel, although there’s not really a point in that due to the holes and strings coming off of it. she makes a mental note to buy more towels, and just as she’s about to mope about another purchase to make, her phone blares an alarm warning her not to be late to her physical therapy appointment.
stumbling out of the bathroom, she trudges half nude to her liquor cabinet, aimlessly grabbing around for something strong. she pours herself a shot, and then another, and fuck, why not a third one? she doesn’t notice the burn as it goes down, her mind instead focusing on the ache in her left shoulder.
she pulls a shirt over her head and shoves her shoes on, finalizing her outfit with her black raincoat. she wears it nearly every day, partially because it’s always cold and rainy, and partially because it’s a good excuse to hide the thick scars that travel all the way up her body. her spine starts to ache as she walks to the clinic, but she doesn’t have money for a car, and she doesn’t know anybody in this town well enough to ask them for a ride.
the receptionist at the clinic doesn’t look up one single time as sevika checks in, and sevika wishes so badly that she could get paid to sit down and look at a computer all day. she takes a seat in the waiting room, slumping back and relaxing her muscles as she waits for her PT to invite her in. the clock on the wall ticks extremely loudly, she notices, but she decides to close her eyes and count the ticks until it’s finally her turn.
ii. FLESH AND BONE BY THE TELEPHONE
static muffles through her radio. she flicks the ashes of her cigarette out onto the pavement, watching as a pigeon across the street skitters around. another few crackles through her walkie talkie go ignored. it’s her break for fucks sake, and she’s only just starting to enjoy it.
“sevika?” her radio booms. she sighs, rolling her eyes and waiting for someone else to respond.
“sevika, we need you inside. your break is over.”
“my break is what? over.” she responds, giggling at her own smartass response.
“your break is over, god damn it. over.”
“roger.” she says, a hint of a smile still in her voice. “i’ll be inside in a second. over.”
she pulls her phone out of her pocket, double checking the new code for the security door. after punching it in, she swings the door open until it bolts shut behind her, and then makes her way to the lobby. the museum is huge, the lobby has floors that sparkle and shine no matter how many muddy shoes cross over them, and the rest of the stories are complete with floor to ceiling windows that are taller than she ever could’ve imagined.
as she crosses through a giant stone archway, her boss nods and waves her over. one of her coworkers is there too, both of them looking stern and serious. she steps into the small circle they’ve formed, lifting her eyebrows quizzically at the two of them. “well?” she asks. “what do you need?”
“what do i need? what i fuckin’ need from both of you is for you to do your fuckin’ jobs.” he spits, literally. droplets of his saliva collect in his beard as he digs into sevika and her coworker about ‘not doing their jobs.’
“what do you mean by that, sir?” her coworker asks.
“do you know how many people i’ve seen walk out of here with souvenirs stuffed into their pockets? that gift shop is gonna be desecrated by the end of the day.”
“respectfully, sir, we aren’t in charge of the gift shop. we only monitor the grounds of the museum, and you’re the one who hired us both to do that.” she says back.
“then go do ya fuckin’ job.” he growls, his thick boston accent shining through his attempt at a serious lecture.
she raises her eyebrows and turns around with her tongue in her cheek, heading up the large marble stairs. sevika can’t argue with that, and she loves her job. it’s easy— all she has to do is puff her chest to intimidate her guests, hand out lollipops to the little ones who are brave enough to wave at her, and occasionally answer a question about directions around the place. all of her coworkers love her, and she’s never felt more secure in her life before.
ascending the stairs, she eyes a beautiful young woman with blazing orange hair wandering into the gift shop and a smile on her face. that’s not the type of person who’d steal, she thinks, and she’s probably right. concealing her eyes are a pair of black sunglasses, and she’s finally thankful they’re part of her uniform now that she’s got direct sunlight hitting every corner of the second floor.
she inserts her earpiece into the side of her head, prepared although not excited to listen to her coworkers chat and complain for the rest of the day. she flicks around until she connects to the private channel, and then continues to stroll around the second floor.
people of all ages wander through the halls. kids being scolded by their parents, awkward adults grasping clammy hands on their first date, seniors leaning on their walkers and canes as they reminisce about famous painters. the community is so beautiful, so important to her, she’d do anything to protect it. this place is like her second home, and she’s made some of the best friends of her life here. not to mention the fact that it’s taken her years to memorize her way around the place, so now it’s even more special to her.
she steps toward the large windows, feeling the warm sun prickle her skin as it sparkles through the leaves of the trees. the muffled sound of laughing families combined with the sight of her people paints a smile on her face, and she closes her eyes and loses herself in this divine moment until she feels something tug on the bottom of her vest.
“yes?” she asks, turning around and smiling down at the kid. her bottom lip quivers and her eyes fill with tears, she makes a mental note that she can’t be any older than six years of age.
“i—” she starts, attempting to blink back tears and inevitably failing. “mmmph!!”
sevika crouches down and wipes the girl’s tears away with her thumbs, ruffling the kid’s fluffy blue hair. “don’t worry, kiddo.” she assures her, “what’s wrong? oh, lemme guess— lost your parents?” the kid nods and sobs some more, attempting to hide her face in her hands.
she scoops her up in her arms, letting her sob into her shoulder. “ughffff!!!!” she pouts, squirming in sevika’s hold. she takes a guess that the kid is either really shy or just mute.
“it’s okay,” she coos. “would you like a lollipop?” the kid sniffles at this, but lifts her head up and nods at her. sevika digs into the small bag on her waist, pulling out a bright blue sucker for the little one that matches her hair. she takes it in her small hands and unwraps it, eyes sparkling at the sight of the blue raspberry favored sugar. sevika just hopes her parents don’t kill her.
with the kid in her arms— who is now joyfully sucking on the lollipop instead of soaking her in tears and snot— she makes her way downstairs. sevika’s no stranger to lost children, and she’s fond of their company. it’s refreshing to hear them describe colors and patterns in the paintings instead of overanalyzing it and telling stupid facts about the artist. and she loves that she can finally give back to the world, bringing the kiddos comfort like she never received from her own parents.
“radio check.” her earpiece says, slightly catching her off guard.
“go ahead.” her teammates all say, mutually praying their boss isn’t about to go on another two hour long rant in their private channel.
“keep your eyes peeled for a little kid with a full head of bright blue hair,” her boss says into her earpiece. “apparently her names isha and she’s five. parents lost her on the second floor and they’re worried.”
sevika looks down at the kid, unnecessarily double checking that her head is painted with blue hair dye. “i’ve got her.” she says. “we’re making our way to the lobby. 10-20?”
“lobby, meet you there soon. over and out.”
“isha!!” her mother shrieks as soon as sevika lands on the bottom step. “oh my sweet ishabear! i thought we’d lost you forever.”
isha’s dad shoots sevika a look that seems to say ‘sorry about her’, but she smiles and hands the kid over. “what’s your name?” her mom asks frantically. just as she’s about to respond, her boss speaks up and whacks her on the back with a proud slap.
“this is sevika. best security in the whole building, ain’t she?” he says, reaching out to pinch her cheek. sevika tries her absolute best to hold back, but she can’t stop a harsh glare from forming on her face as her boss pokes and prods at her like she’s a doll. she clears her throat and shoves him off, but resumes a smile for the parents staring at her.
“that she is!” the mother cheers. “god bless you, sevika, seriously. i’ll never be able to repay you.”
she smiles proudly, not necessarily because she believes in a god, but she’s just glad to get the kid back and hopefully end the conversation soon. “thank you ma’am. it’s no problem, really. it’s my job.”
“it is your job!” her boss exclaims. “and she’s gonna get right back to it.”
before turning away, she gives isha a smile and an explosive fist bump, smiling at the adorable little cub and then parting. her boss is probably the only downside of her job. words can’t explain how much she hates that guy— even hate isn’t a strong enough word. but she ignores it, pushing her hatred to the back of her mind and attempting to continue with her good day.
until an ear piercing scream is let out at the front of the building, and she’s knocked out before she can turn around to investigate.
——
“shit, how many are still in the building?”
“i dunno, man! there are people fuckin’ everywhere.”
“sevika? can you hear me? … sevika, you need to get out of there now.”
groggily, she peels her heavy eyes open and looks around. the scent of pennies fills her nose, a metallic smell so strong it nearly knocks her out again. before she feels like she can hit the floor, her body jerks forward and she sucks in a gasp before she realizes she’s already laying on the marbled ground.
“sevika…?”
“leave it alone, for gods sake, we need to get people out of here!”
her left arm was laying oddly and uncomfortably behind her, and her whole body was absolutely aching. she leans forward and chokes out some blood before looking at the scene before her. windows shattered and glass glistening on the floor, reflecting the light that shines off of the mini fires lit all around. there are people everywhere— or at least the remains of them. shoes and purses and walkers left behind, the suffocating scent of blood and charred flesh, and the sound of sirens blaring all around her.
she tries to breathe, but it seems impossible. her lungs won’t fill with air no matter how many times she gasps, and that number is burgeoning with the way she’s hyperventilating. hot, salty tears prickle her eyes involuntarily, but she blinks them away, too shocked to feel any emotions yet. she groans into the floor as a sharp pain shoots through her body, and the thrashing caused by that pain only makes her feel worse.
deep red and sticky, her blood pools around her. it leaks out of her left arm, which takes her a while to recognize as hers because of the way her elbow is inverted. she recognizes cries of children and shrieks of pain, which is a harsh contrast of the peaceful atmosphere earlier. how much earlier? how long has she been knocked out? and why is she on the floor?
after an eternity, two men in heavy jackets lift her onto a stretcher. she’s facing up this time, and now she can get a good look at the walls around her. they’re crumbling and splattered with blood, world famous paintings that were once hanging from them are now completely destroyed. either torn up or burnt to a crisp.
as they approach the bottom of the stairs, she makes the tough decision to peek over the stretcher, eyes frantically searching around the spot she was only just standing in. and there she is. that little girl with her bright blue hair, now drenched in red. her lips are still blue from the lollipop, but she’s grown pale and cold. and gone. and sevika couldn’t protect her.
before she closes her eyes, she takes in the scene one more time. piles of hair tangled together and skin melted into the floor. she’s seen some pretty outrageous things as a security guard, but never this. tears pour out of her eyes, the pain in her body making her wish she would’ve been taken out too. by what, she doesn’t know. she isn’t aware of where she is or what’s going on, all she knows is the pain in the left side of her body, and it’s all she’ll feel for the rest of her life.
iii. LIFT UP THE RECEIVER, I’LL MAKE YOU A BELIEVER
“sevika…?”
she blinks awake with a gasp, eyes wide as she takes in her surroundings. children’s toys litter the floor, flyers and posters on the wall, bright white lights beaming down on her— and her physical therapist standing about 2 feet away from her. sevika grumbles in embarrassment, trying to shake off her sleepiness as quickly as possible.
her therapist offers a sympathetic smile before waving her back. sevika curses those waiting room chairs for being so comfortable, or maybe it’s just because she doesn’t get much shut eye at home. her back is so weak and achy that she feels as if she’ll snap under the weight of gravity, but she tries to play it cool in front of her poor doctor. she’s already embarrassed herself enough today, she won’t let herself collapse in pain on the floor of the office.
“nice to see you again, sevika.” her PT smiles, “how’ve you been?”
how has she been? what a long list she could go down. first of all, she’s in so much physical pain she can barely sit upright without passing out. next, she hasn’t been sleeping well due to her night terrors, and she’s waken up soaked in sweat and shivering more often than not. finally, if this list has to end anywhere, she feels jealous. of the happy families she sees every day, of the kids with friends, of the adults with well paying jobs.
“i’ve been… surviving.” she says, purposefully ignoring the plethora of problems she has. this is physical therapy, she reminds herself. not the damn loony bin. get ahold of yourself.
“well, surviving is a great start.” her therapist says with a faux smile. “how has the pain in your shoulders felt since i last saw you? better? worse?” and with that, her voice trails off into the distance with sevika zoning out.
her poor arm gets bent in every single direction you can think of, even ones it’s not supposed to. she bites back her screams of agony and replaces them with little pained growls and whimpers. every time her arm gets bent slightly behind her, a shock of pure pain shoots through her spine and leaves her a shivering mess. the pain within her feels electric, like she’s about to burst into flames or something. it’s the worst thing she’s ever felt.
the tears in her eyes threaten to spill more than ever, but by some miracle she manages to hold them back. until she gets back to her apartment, at least.
as soon as she steps through the front door, she makes a beeline for her bedroom. burying her face in her pillow, she lets it all out. her pained scream is barely muffled by the pillow, but she continues to scream until her throat feels like sandpaper and she realizes that she can’t breathe.
gasping for air, she flops over. her vision is spotted and blurry from a mix of tears, pain, and exhaustion. she stares at her ceiling and cries while she chokes on her own staggered breaths, and she barely registers that someone’s knocking on her door until she hears her name called through it.
“sevika? are you alright, hon?” is followed by another few pounds on her door. she doesn’t want her anyone to call the cops, so she slowly and reluctantly rises from bed, grabbing onto her door frame to steady herself.
it’s her neighbor. curse these walls for being too thin.
sevika groans and rolls her eyes before opening the door, trying her best to plant an indifferent look on her face although it looks more like a pout. the old woman smiles up at her, glad to see that she’s alive after that screaming, but sevika can’t return the smile.
“what’s wrong? did something happen?” her neighbor asks.
“nothing’s wrong.” sevika grumbles, lying through her teeth.
“i know that’s not true honeybun, your eyes are bright red and your cheeks are wet with tears.” her neighbor coos. sevika thinks it’s annoying. she doesn’t want anyone’s sympathy.
“i’m alright, thank you.” she says sternly, although her neighbor keeps pushing.
“may i come in?”
sevika doesn’t answer, instead watching as the old lady walks past her and plants herself on sevika’s couch. “come chat with me.” she invites with a warm, grandmotherly smile.
“i’m not in the mood for chatting.” sevika glares.
“oh, dear,” her neighbor chuckles to herself. “i’m afraid i’m too mature to have you groan at me like a teenager. come sit.”
sevika comes up with another response, but it’s not a very friendly one. the angel on her shoulder tells her not to say it, that the poor woman is just trying to help, that sevika’s already been so much of a bother that she should just shut her mouth. but the devil on her shoulder is fed up right now, and sevika always favors the devil.
“i’m afraid you’re not an ounce as mature as i am. you haven’t been through what i have, and you have no place to tell me what to do in my own fucking apartment.” but sevika does listen to the lady, because she takes a seat right next to her on the couch.
her neighbor ignores her emotional outburst and instead asks “are you hungry?”
“no.” sevika scowls.
“tired?”
“exhausted.”
“sad? lonely? you’d do good with a pet around here. or a few plants. i can grow you a—”
“no thanks. i don’t need a… plant. or an animal.” sevika spits.
“hmm. you live a sad life, don’t you. i wonder what you were like before you came here.” her neighbor sighed.
“i don’t owe you an explanation. that’s private.”
“sevika, you can talk to me if you need to. i’m only one door down the hall, retired, it’s just me and my cats. i’ll always be available if you need something.”
“i don’t need anything.” sevika rolls her eyes. “much less your pity.”
“okay, fine then. if you won’t let me help you, i’ll make someone else help you.”
she reaches into her pocket and digs through her wallet, pulling out a thin paper card and handing it over to sevika. “come with me tomorrow. it’d do you wonders.”
“to… church? no thanks, i’ll pa—”
“okay, great. i’ll see you tomorrow morning then.” her neighbor says, rising and making her way to the door.
“i didn’t say i’d come.”
“i’ll pick you up at eight. better set an alarm.”
“i didn’t agree to co—” and sevika gets cut off by the slam of her own door before she can finish her sentence. whatever, when tomorrow rolls around she’ll just ignore her neighbor, pretending to be asleep or something.
she leans back on her couch, staring at the ceiling and wishing she had a pillow to grip onto, to scream into. another thing to add to the list. she stares at the ceiling instead, balling her hands up into fists as rage turns into sadness and sadness turns back into exhaustion.
it takes everything in her not to crawl to bed, but she stands and walks herself eventually. her shoulders sag and her torso slumps forward as she takes one step at a time, her posture making her about 4 inches shorter than she really is. her bed cradles her weight though, and she sighs into her cold, wet pillow once the tension in her body is released. it’s the best feeling ever. and before she knows it, her eyes are shutting, mind going back to that deep, dark memory.
——
7:30am rolls around, and sevika curses herself for waking up this early. now she’ll have to pretend to be asleep in front of her neighbor, and she’s not a good actress. she rolls out of bed, dragging herself to the bathroom to get her day started. she tries to avoid the mirror, but it’s impossible.
she stares at herself for a while, the uncomfortable feeling of someone else looking back at her creeps up on her. she doesn’t look like herself, she doesn’t look like sevika. she looks sick, tired, hurt, starving. the thought of food makes her stomach twist, she hasn’t eaten anything real in over a full day. maybe she should go easy on her neighbor and ask for a home-cooked meal. maybe.
her hair is fluffy and frayed at the ends, and her roots feel eternally greasy. her depression is so bad, she either showers daily in an attempt to scrub the hallucinated blood off, or she won’t shower for weeks. it’s like she can never win the battle.
a knock at the door disrupts her thoughts. “sevika?”
a groan involuntarily escapes her as she silently opens the bathroom door and creeps out into the living room. “sevika, wake up, it’s almost eight.”
she freezes, praying that her movements on top of her creaky floorboards go unobserved.
“sevika, dear, i can hear you on the other side of the door. you’re not fooling anyone.”
fuck. she’s not getting out of this, is she.
with another groan, she opens the door and sighs. the old lady smiles up at her, dressed in some sort of church attire. “grab a coat,” she says. “it’s chilly out.”
what else does sevika have to do, other than follow the orders? she’s trapped now. following this sweet old woman to church on a sunday. something she never thought she’d do. but she yanks a jacket over her shoulders and shoves her shoes on, not bothering to lock the door behind her. she claims she has nothing to lose in there, but that’s just because she lost her own apartment key a while ago.
she almost smiles when her neighbor shoves her into her car. almost. but she’s not exactly capable of that anymore. it’s so luxurious. she has a heater and a radio and a seat. it’s almost like she’s in a spaceship, marveling at all of these features that would make her life so much easier.
her excitement reaches it’s end as they pull into the parking lot of the building, and that pit in her stomach returns as she climbs out of the small car. if her legs worked a fraction of how well they used to, she’d run so far away from this place.
everything about it is repelling her. the building is huge, bright, colorful, everything she’s seen in her recurring nightmares. it smells like dust and coffee, children’s art line the walls, along with some more formal paintings and portraits. the ceiling seems to be made of glass— the kind that shatters easily and can slice your hands up.
the windows are colored with stained glass that portray different scenes. people made of bright colors dance and pose and feast all around them, their dazzling figures being illuminated by the white sunlight shining through the windows. it’s the kind of beauty she was attracted to years ago, the kind that nearly got her killed.
“sevika, come sit with me.” her neighbor says, derailing her train of thought. she practically has to drag sevika over to the pews as she stares at the buildings interior, feelings of fear and comfort flooding through her veins and stunning her.
she’s too busy taking in her surroundings to realize that the service has started, and she’s quickly reminded of how much she hates places like this. a large, beautiful room full of people. a community. something bad could happen at any moment, and she’d be in no shape to help any of them.
small droplets of blood fill her mouth one at a time as she anxiously chews on her bottom lip. she knows it’s a bad habit, but it’s oddly comforting. the metallic taste is just a reminder that she’s still alive, that the blood is still inside of her body instead of splattered across the floor. gross, ugh, don’t think of that.
in an attempt to tune out the preacher’s sermon, she decides to study the people around her. it’s a harsh reminder of past events, she swears she can almost recognize the faces of the dead bodies in them. all ages, young and old. parents cradling their newborn babies, seniors admiring their lover’s white hair, kids swinging their feet out in front of them in an attempt to stay occupied.
she tries to push these morbid thoughts away from her brain, but it’s not easy. it’s her minds default, it’s why she hasn’t stepped foot in any sort of large building in years. by some miracle, she’s survived a bombing once, how on earth could she do it again?
but to her luck, the ceremony is over before she knows it, and she’s about to escape before her neighbor yanks her back by the collar of her jacket. she pouts, rolls her eyes, and turns around to face her.
“meet my neighbor, sevika. this is her first time joining us.”
“nice to meet you, sevika.” and the man sticks his arm out to sevika, awaiting a returned hand shake. she doesn’t return it though, and she doesn’t even look at him. instead she just stares at the floor and says “yeah… thanks…”
her neighbor nudges her shoulder for being rude, but she doesn’t owe anyone anything. she doesn’t know if the man who tried to shake her hand is same guy who’s been blabbering on this whole time, but if it is, she doesn’t want anything to do with him.
“sevika, what the hell was that? i didn’t bring you here to be rude, i brought you here to learn something.”
sevika scoffs with a fake laugh, “i don’t need you to parent me.”
“then stop acting like a kid, let’s go meet more people.”
how was she gonna get out of this? oh well, in only a few hours she’ll be home again, resting and recharging in bed under the covers. she follows behind her neighbor like a lost puppy, not even looking in front of her, just staring down and making sure that she’s following the correct pair of shoes.
you greet sevika’s neighbor warmly, she’s a familiar face you’re always glad to see. sevika’s figure almost startles you when you peek up, almost. but you get yourself under control, asking the sweet older woman “who’s this?”
“this is sevika, my neighbor. it’s her first time joining us today.”
“oh! nice to meet you, sevika.” you smile, keeping your hands to yourself. sevika doesn’t know what to think of you, you’re so… different from everyone else here. you’re not dressed like everyone else, you look more like sevika than you do the others. but she wouldn’t expect someone like you to work at a church, would she? god, how the world has changed.
“nice to meet you.” she says, not bothering to attempt a weak smile, but giving a cordial nod in your direction anyways.
“we hope to see you around here soon. if you need anything, you know where to find me. although, you look like you’re in good hands.” you offer, giving sevika’s neighbor a friendly pat on the shoulder. sevika watches you walk off, wishing she could dissect you a little more. but she doesn’t hesitate to exit the building when her neighbor declares that it’s time to leave.
“are you hungry?” her neighbor asks once they’re in the car.
sevika’s mouth speaks before she can stop herself, “yes. starving.”
“good, you’ll come over for brunch. that wasn’t a question, by the way.” she smiles.
sevika rolls her eyes and almost smiles back. almost. but the ache in her lower back is making it hard to be happy in this moment.
her neighbor’s apartment is quite grandmotherly, to put it nicely. she has two cats— a black ball of fluff named “fluffy” and a skinny, all white cat named “snowy”, both of which were named by her grandchildren. there are plants and paintings and handmade quilts littering her place, every one of them having a story behind it. it’s cute, sure, but a little bit too maximalist for sevika’s enjoyment. at least she has furniture. good quality furniture.
a steaming teacup is placed in front of her seat at the counter, and both of the cats jump up to check it out. in all honesty, sevika thinks it’s kinda gross to live with animals. she doesn’t know where the hell those cats paws have been, and if it were up to her they wouldn’t be on the kitchen counter.
the cats waddle over to sevika, getting too close to comfort in an attempt to investigate the strange woman sitting at their counter. once she’s deemed safe, they raise their backs and point their tails up as if to ask for pets, but sevika scowls and awkwardly scoots away from the strange animals.
“not a cat person?” her neighbor laughs.
“no… not an animal person in general, really.”
“they’re sweet. give ‘em a pet.”
“no thanks…”
“fine. but you better eat up before they eat it for you.” her neighbor says, shoving a tall stack of pancakes in front of sevika. it’s a heavenly sight, and she almost feels bad for eating it instead of staring at the masterpiece for a while longer.
but that hungry pit in her stomach only grows and shoves itself against her stomach, so she has no choice to dig in. not that she’s complaining, and they taste absolutely divine. she grows uncomfortable again, last time she felt divine was the worst day of her life. it’s almost like a curse— one that never lets her feel true enjoyment.
fluffy and snowy meow loudly at her neighbor for food too, so she grabs a small dish and starts plopping some wet food onto it. again, sevika can’t fathom why someone would do that. on the counter? where she’s eating? but it’s not her apartment, so she keeps her mouth full of pancakes to stop the complaints.
she can’t wait to get home. checking the time, she realizes that it’s now afternoon. this has been the most eventful day she’s lived through in a while, and that triggers her anxiety to tone everything down. she needs a drink and a nap, so she thanks her neighbor and heads one door up the hall to her own apartment.
her door is unlocked, just how she left it, and she realizes that the only valuable thing in her apartment might be her liquor cabinet. maybe she should get a lock after all. add that to the list.
she guzzles down some whiskey directly from the bottle before stopping to take a breath. with how much she’s been drinking lately, she barely gets drunk anymore. it’s not fair, she might just have to find something stronger. jesus christ, i’m gonna drink myself to death. before she has a chance to bury herself back in bed, her phone rings. how strange, she hasn’t gotten a call in years. but what choice does she have, other than to lift up the receiver?
“yes?” she groans.
“hello,” you greet, a bit disturbed that someone would answer the phone with just ‘yes?’ “is this sevika?”
“who are you?”
“i’m from the church, we met earlier.”
“oh… okay… so…?”
“so, i wanted to tell you that i meant it when i said i hope you join us again. it was nice to see you, we rarely get any newcomers in this small town but… i can tell that you’re different.”
“okay…” sevika says. there is no way she’s stepping foot in that building again. jesus christ himself could not drag her in there.
“so… you’ll come?”
“i still need to be convinced.”
“easy. but i’ll need you to show up for that.”
“maybe.” she says, and you feel like you can hear a hint of promise in her voice.
“okay, well, have a good rest of your day. i’ll see you soon. maybe.” you say, about to hang up.
“how did you get my number?” she questions.
“helen gave it to me.”
“…who?”
“your neighbor? helen?”
“oh… right.” how could she not know her own neighbor’s name?
“sevika, don’t worry.” you assure her. “i’ll help you believe.” and the line goes quiet.
iv. I WILL DELIVER, YOU KNOW I’M A FORGIVER
that day was the first time you saw sevika, and you wish you could live in that moment forever. she was so soft and so sharp at the same time, and it was surprisingly harmonious. her physical features were striking, she looked almost… scary. but that scariness was easily cancelled out by her gentleness.
her cheeks were thin and sunken, but her chin effortlessly faded into the smooth skin of her neck. her nose stuck straight out of her head, but there was a slight curve to it that made you wanna run a gentle fingertip over it. her eyes were bright and silver, but they were so big and so round. she was tall, sticking up higher than anyone else in the room, but her hips and thighs were so plush and thick, she took up just the right amount of space.
she was just plain gorgeous. usually you’d scold yourself for thinking about another woman this way, but you’d been slowly coming to terms with your sexuality. as long as you don’t act on it.
from the moment you laid eyes on her, you knew you had to guide her. it was like some sort of fate or destiny. here’s this immaculate woman showing up in front of you in desperate need of help, your help specifically. it was a perfect mission, you’d do anything in her power to earn her trust and to help her feel that faith.
by some miracle, she answered the phone when you rang. judging by her previous attitude, you almost expected her to storm back down to the church and smack you across the face. your conversation was unproductive, sure, but it was a good start. well, if she decides to show up, that is. you don’t doubt her, if anything you can just ask her neighbor to force her to tag along again.
the mental image of her floats around in your head all day. what are you gonna do when she does show up? give her some sort of speech? she’ll probably just tune you out like she does to the rest of the world. you wonder why she acts the way she does, there’s no way anybody with a normal life could act this guarded. you just hope she opens up eventually, you’d kill to get to know her.
sevika’s not amused. she doesn’t want anyone’s help, or to pretend to have faith in something that’s all just make believe. really, the only thing she wants is some peace and quiet, and for the pain in her shoulders to lessen. before returning to her den, she sluggishly trudges to the kitchen cupboards, yanking them open in search of some painkillers. to her luck, there are two small pills left, which she quickly downs. she chooses water over whiskey this time, shockingly, because she’s a little bit frightened by drinking herself to death. which is strange, and she wonders why she values her life so much.
no matter what you do, you can’t get this woman off of your mind. something about her makes you feel different than how other people make you feel, but you can’t tell what it is or why. you need a plan. you need to talk to her again. or at least some confidence would be handy. but instead of dwelling on it, you decide to go for a walk.
the walk doesn’t really work though, it actually does the opposite of clearing your mind. you have nothing to focus on, no work to do, so you just think. your mind runs wild the whole time. you’re so intrigued, so excited yet nervous, you feel like it’s almost a craving. almost, because you’re not really sure what a craving is. not until you meet her, at least.
after swallowing her pain meds, sevika crawls back into bed, the heavy feeling of anxiety that settled over her chest slowly but surely fades, and she’s eased into a light afternoon nap. the plain white walls of her room offer some familiar comfort, but the more she looks at them, the more she’s reminded of the hospital. fuck, maybe she should try to decorate the place. and she really does need to go shopping later.
——
she wakes up nearly three hours later feeling more exhausted than before she slept. at least she feels a bit more calm, but the looming feeling of her responsibilities made her groan. another reason why she doesn’t want pets: it’s another mouth to feed, to walk, clean up after, bathe, spend time with. she can barely do those things for herself, how on earth could she do it for something else?
rather than pouting about her responsibilities, she makes the tough decision to get out of bed and get started with her day. get started meaning that it’s almost 6:00pm and she’s only just now attempting to complete her to-do list. and so what? she lives on her own terms. she doesn’t bother brushing her messy hair after her nap, even less to keep it out of her face with a little half ponytail. it never works anyways, the wind whips it all around you until it sticks to the sides of your face with humidity.
so, that’s it then, and she shoves her shoes and her coat on and leaves. the door stays unlocked, of course, and she makes her way down the stairwell and out of the building. there’s a small grocery store on her block which is conveniently located next to a liquor store. if she has the funds after buying her necessities, she’ll stop in there for a treat. actually, she’ll probably stop in there anyways, but she likes to think that she still has some self control left when it comes to drinking.
does she remember what she needed to buy? no. and did she bother to write down her mental shopping list as it came to her? nope! but it’ll come to her. hopefully. she spends the whole walk there trying to focus on what she needs to spend her money on and what she wants to spend her money on. she needs more painkillers, more snacks, some sort of decoration for her place, and… was there something else?
she crosses into the store and she’s immediately greeted by the sound of loud pop music buzzing through the speakers. great, so she’s overstimulated already. she’ll make it quick, she decides, it’s not like she wanted to be here in the first place.
sauntering down the aisles, she picks up everything she needs. at least, everything she remembers that she needs. she grabs a large bottle of extra strength ibuprofen, more bread and butter, microwave meals, milk and eggs, and what else? before she can think of another thing to add, she decides to just leave. if she thinks of anything else, she can always just come back later.
her shoulders sag under the weight of her basket, full of stuff that’ll probably just rot in her fridge. as she approaches the register, she sighs as the man behind it attempts to strike up a conversation with her. she’s not interested, she never has been, and she has no clue why he insists on chatting with her every time she’s there.
she doesn’t respond to the man the entire time she’s there, just staring daggers past him. she doesn’t even muster out a “good evening” or “goodnight”. i mean jesus, even a “fuck you” might’ve been polite. it’s not like she cares.
but she does stop by the liquor store on the way home, as we knew she would. she decides to treat herself, picking up not only one, but two bottles off of the shelf. whiskey and vodka, not cheap but it does the job. the money will come back around anyways. the man behind the counter, this time stoned out of his mind, asks her what she’s gonna do with the alcohol.
“what am i gonna do with it?” she repeats, obviously annoyed and confused. “what the fuck do you think?”
“mannnn, i bet you could make a hundred bottles of homemade mouthwash with this stuff. fucking awesome.”
sevika rolls her eyes and collects the large glass bottles, shoving them into her bag as gently as she can. she has no idea why everyone’s so interested in talking with her tonight, it’s like she’s wearing a glowing neon sign above her head that says “TALK TO ME!”
does she look approachable? happy? friendly? welcoming? no, obviously not. she must not be part of this inside joke the world is playing on her tonight.
so you’re surprised to see sevika when you’re out for your second walk of the night. pacing around in your own house wasn’t working, and all you wanted was some fresh air. well, maybe not fresh, but the temperature definitely did shock you. you almost walked right past her until you recognized her statuesque figure. she was across the parking lot, rolling her eyes and shoving the door to the liquor shop open as she stepped back outside.
huh. sevika at a liquor shop. not necessarily unusual for a person, but forbidden for you. you wonder if this is a ritual for her, if she’s gonna go home and get drunk or something, or maybe if she’s gonna split the bottle with some friends. does she even have friends?
you turn around and head in the same direction she does, hoping your paths cross before her quick, long strides can leave you behind. and you eventually catch up to her, pretending you had no idea you’d run into her, you greet her with a “oh, sevika! hey, i didn’t expect to see you here.” except, you did expect to see her here. you already spied her storming out of the liquor store. ugh, you’re such a bad liar.
“oh… hi.” she mumbles, a little disturbed by your sudden appearance, and already burnt out from the two people who’ve made small talk with her in the past hour. while you stand in front of her, she raises her eyebrow slightly as if to signal that she’s waiting for you to say something before she walks away.
“i’ll see you next week, yeah?” you remind her, not really sure of what to say. partly because the meeting is so sudden, and partly because this woman is breathtaking.
“yeah, maybe.” she agrees halfheartedly.
“i don’t want your ‘maybe’s sevika. i want you to say yes to me.” you challenge, huffing at her indecisiveness. “if you want me to help you, i need a yes.”
“help me with what?” she asks, pretending to be shocked and offended at your words. you stutter, staring up at her with a sorry look in your eyes.
“oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—”
“i’m just fucking with you.” she says, chuckling to herself and offering a small smile. and as if her face couldn’t get any more perfect, you notice a small gap between two of her top teeth. she’s so beautiful you feel like you’re gonna melt, even in this chilly autumn weather.
before you think about what you’re saying next, you blurt out a “tomorrow? can i see you tomorrow?”
she raises her eyebrows at your bluntness, the suggestion seems to come out of nowhere. but what else does she have to do? and she already feels bad for fucking with you all of the time, shouldn’t she just give in and attend whatever stupid meeting you have planned for her?
“i— i guess, yeah.”
“you guess?” you tease. “or you will show up?”
“i will. i’ll see you tomorrow.” she admits with a huff.
“good, i’ll see you tomorrow too then.” you say, and you offer her a small wave before walking past her and continuing with your walk. after seeing her, your mind automatically feels so much clearer considering the fact that she was the one occupying all of your thoughts.
sevika stands frozen in place as you walk away, holding her bag in her hand as she reflects on what she just agreed to. why the fuck would she say yes to that? she doesn’t believe in any of your religious bullshit, and she doesn’t care to try. but it’s too late, she’ll just have to let you down easy when tomorrow comes.
but when tomorrow does come, she decides to go a little bit easier on herself. it’s not like you’re trying to annoy her with all of your beliefs and jargon and whatnot, and she can tell that this actually does mean a lot to you. plus, she’s in a good mood after remembering that she bought two new bottles of alcohol. she even ate a little bit last night and managed to keep it all down, which is a rare occurrence for her. so yeah, it might be a good day.
the sun peeks out just a tiny bit from behind the clouds as she walks herself back to the church, which offers a nice, although minuscule, bit of warmth. you’re already there by the time she arrives, and you greet her with a warm smile and invite her down the long hallway to your ‘office’. it’s not technically a real office since you don’t do too much work other than filing papers and planning events, you just begged them to give you a room that you could sit alone in sometimes.
you don’t have any sort of plan on how you’re gonna convert sevika, or how to at least help her fix up her life a little bit, but you do wanna get to know her. so you start with that. you ask her where she’s from and if she’s lived here her whole life, and you’re surprised to learn that she used to work in new york. all the way across the country.
she hesitates to tell you why she left though, saying she’d rather save it for a later session when she gets more comfortable. which she regrets almost instantly, because she just solidified herself another few meetings like these. she tells you more, like how she was always close with her mother until she passed when sevika was only ten. and how she definitelty inherited some anger from her dad, even though she never liked him.
her childhood was interesting. to you at least. she was just stable enough to keep herself afloat, but unstable enough for her to be left with some sort of trauma. she moved out as soon as she reached eighteen and never looked back. she scoured for jobs that would be good for someone like her, someone broken but strong. resilient, you call it.
the two of you chat for nearly three hours, you asking questions after question and her answering nearly all of them. but the one question that you’re too scared to ask is this: what happened that turned her into… this? she said it had something to do with her job, something that just completely broke her and left her unable to snap back. but what was it? how bad could it have been? what job did she have? was it her fault? but you did agree to letting her tell you on her own terms, so you’ll just have to wait until she’s ready.
eventually your time is up, and you walk sevika back out of the double doors of the small building. she flashes you a small smile, one that you’re already obsessed with, and she turns to leave.
“wait.” you call after her, although she’s only about six feet away from you. “you don’t have a car?”
“no.”
“how did you get here?”
“i… walked…” she says, waiting for you to get to your point.
“all this way?”
“it’s only about a block and a half.”
“but— well…” now you feel bad. you didn’t know that you were forcing her to exercise her exhausted joints and muscles in this weather. sure, maybe she doesn’t mind, but if you were her you’d probably throw a tantrum. “do you want me to drive you?” you ask.
“sure, if you really want to.”
“of course i want to.” you say, and you practically drag her off of the sidewalk and shove her into the passenger side of your car. the drive is short, her building really is just about a block and a half away.
“i’ll see you next week.” you say.
“yeah, see you then.” she responds, and for once it doesn’t feel forced or awkward.
“and tell helen i say hi if you see her. assuming you know who she is?” you giggle.
“yes, i know my own neighbor.” she says, rolling her eyes and chuckling.
“just making sure…” you tease.
sevika just laughs and waves you goodbye through your front window, disappearing into the building and up the stairs. you don’t even register it— to busy with staring at her back— but eventually it hits you that she laughed. this mysterious, guarded woman laughed at something you said. and she spent the last three hours opening up to you about her life. and for the first time in quite a while, you feel like you’re finally good at your job.
——
sevika’s been following through on her promise, meeting you for exactly four weeks now. twenty eight days. you started out with just seeing her twice a week, then every other day, and now you see each other daily. she opened up to you about how much she hates the church setting, how it activates her fight or flight response and brings up old memories, so you switched to taking her to a small local cafe instead.
it’s great. you get to have real coffee, not the burnt stuff from the coffee pot in the church’s kitchen. you’ve also been forcing sevika to eat after learning that it’s been a struggle for her. nothing big, but you make sure she always has at least a muffin or a croissant in her stomach. you pick her up and driving her there too, which is good for her because she can finally relax instead of being worn out from walking everywhere.
she’s taken a liking to you, every morning she’s glad she wakes up because she knows she can see you again. it’s such a strange feeling, but she enjoys it. opening up to you wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be either. you listen so attentively, and you’re always careful to ask appropriate questions and give her a break without her even having to ask for one.
it’s never been easy for her to talk about what happened in her past, and she wishes she had the ability to forget about it completely. but it’s easier with you. every time her eyes grow wide and teary as she pictures the bodies, you change the topic and point at a cute dog outside of the window. or when she gets choked up, stumbling over her words because the brutality of the situation is just too much for her, you let her take her time.
the most memorable moment for her was when she told you about that kid with the blue hair. everything else, sevika managed to stay under control about. sure, the mangled body parts and the melted flesh was bad, but that fucking kid. her lips were still blue. she’d been so alive only moments earlier, smiling as sevika gave her a fist bump and held her in her arms, and she was gone just like that.
when she told you, she couldn’t help but break down in heavy sobs. you could feel your heart shatter at this— the story and sevika’s reaction to it. you scrambled from your side of the booth to hers, scooting in next to her and wrapping her up in a hug as she cried. to your surprise, she hugged you back. she hooked her chin over your shoulder, grabbed you tightly in her strong arms, and just let herself go.
it’s the most tranquility she’s ever felt, and it put all of her past therapists to shame. immediately after that day, the two of you were bonded. you’d do anything for her. be a shoulder to cry on, drive her to and from her various doctors appointments, and make sure she’s eating.
she’s started to trust you, and she agreed to going back to the church with you a few times a week. instead of taking your usual spot with the rest of the staff and speakers, you sit with her every time. sevika on your left, her neighbor on your right.
today you’re feeling particularly bold for some reason, you suspect it might be because of your friendship with sevika, but this feels different. well, you know how it feels, but you’re scared to admit it. although you’ll probably be fine, you’re hesitant to say it to yourself out of the fear that you’ll be thrown out of the church. yes, you like sevika, and sure, she is a beautiful woman. but you just can’t bring yourself to say it. to say that you have a real crush on her. to admit that you want her.
so instead of saying anything, you use your actions instead. glancing over both of your shoulders, you make sure that nobody important is looking in your direction before you snake your hand forward and wrap your hand around sevika’s. this action is the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone, and your cheeks are practically on fire with how hard you’re blushing. you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole building could hear your heartbeat right now.
sevika adjusts her fingers so that she’s gripping your hand firmly, and you feel so… dirty, almost. you know that this is nothing, but you’re scared and ashamed of what other people might think. but although it initially feels wrong, you settle down when you realize that nobody’s looking— even more that nobody cares— and it feels so right. her hands are surprisingly warm and soft, they feel so welcoming and familiar against yours.
maybe, just maybe, you’ll hold her hand more often. but for now, this is just a one-time occurrence.
she notices the panicked look in your eyes as you stare straight ahead. she tries to nudge you gently, but you’re in such a deep stupor that you don’t notice it.
“hey.” she whispers, elbowing you a bit harder than last time. “you okay?”
you realize now that she’s trying to talk to you, so you just squeeze her hand and give her a small nod, blinking your eyes a few times and trying to snap back into reality. once the ceremony is over, you stand and walk sevika and her neighbor to the door quickly.
“are you sure you’re alright?” she asks again.
“yeah, it’s nothing.”
“you know that… this works both ways, right?” she says, gesturing between both of your bodies. “if you need someone to talk to, i can listen.”
“i know, thank you.” you start. “but it’s not like that. it’s nothing… bad. i think? but i’m fine. or— i will be fine.” you say, stumbling over your words incredibly hard.
“you don’t seem fine to me.” she retorts.
“i am, thank you though. get home safely.” you choke out, missing a crucial part to your signature goodbye’s.
“…see you tomorrow?” she asks.
“oh, yes! see you tomorrow, i knew i was forgetting something.”
sevika flicks you on the forehead, before turning to leave. “get some rest, then.”
“i will.” you laugh, although it’s forced.
as soon as her and her neighbor are out of sight, you turn around and make a beeline for your office at the end of the hall. your eyes are glued to the floor, purposefully ignoring anyone’s gaze in case they try to chat with you.
the door clicks locked behind you, and you slump down in our office chair. with your head in your hands, you start to cry. the anxiety in your chest is just too much to handle, and you’re so upset with yourself. you’re upset because it felt so good to be that close to her, and you let yourself indulge in something you know you’ll never get to have. you allowed yourself to catch feelings, but you know you can’t go any further. you’ll have to stick with just thinking she’s pretty and sweet and yours, and watch her fall in love with another woman.
worst of all, she’ll probably fall in love with a woman who’s the total opposite of you. someone who’s experienced and not awkward and cool. and not you. and this really hurts to realize.
what are you supposed to do now? now that you’ve admitted how you feel to yourself, what else is there to do? you can’t ask her out on a date, that would be against everything your community believes in. but are you really supposed to just sit here and play along? it’s not fair. your adrenaline is so high right now that all you really want to do is run.
and that's just what you do. you don't even bother to use the exit door down the hallway, you just peel your window open and hop out of it. tears prickle your eyes and the frosty air nips at your skin, but it helps even out your overheating temperature. you’ve walked this route a millions times already, it’s nothing different but the gentle scenery offers a nice place to think.
you think about all of the sweet moments you’ve shared together, specifically about how much it means to you. you’ve never really had a friend like this before. sure, you’re convivial, but having someone like this was so different. she was yours. and you’d gladly be hers if she asked you to, but would she ask you to? would she ever ask someone like you to be hers?
but you also think about how much your religion means to you. you’ve been part of this for so long, working harder to have a strong sense of faith every single day. if you get with sevika, they could cut you off in an instant, and it would’ve all been for nothing. your reputation would be ruined, and if you’d ever wanna start over with another church, you’d have to leave this small town. leave your home.
it’s just not fair. why did god make you this way? for everyone else, falling in love with a man is no problem. they were made the right way, or at least know how to ignore their true feeling really well. was there some sort of secret lesson that you missed? that everyone is in on besides you?
once you get dizzy and out of breath, you find a stump to sit on and reflect. your shoes kick at the dirt underneath you, brain fuzzy as you try to decide on what to do. little bugs crawl around on the ground beneath you, each one of them having a family and a home. i wish i could have a family, you think. you can hear rain pattering on the leaves of the trees above you, but you stay dry. well, as dry as you possibly can be living this close to the ocean.
you don’t even realize how long you’ve been sitting here lost in your thoughts before the sky turns a lovely light shade of orange, and you realize you’d better leave now if you wanna get back before dark. the only thing on your mind as always is sevika.
sevika has been thinking about you all night too, wondering if you’re okay after the way you acted. she won’t push, she wants to give you time to open up to her the same way you did, but she just worries. and she misses the warmth of your hand in hers, although she could tell you were nervous. in her opinion, it was cute. she admires how gentle you are, how you always make sure others are alright before making sure you are alright. but whatever it is, she doesn’t doubt that you’ll be fine.
leaving your window open was a stupid idea, now your entire office is cold and there’s a puddle of rainwater leaking down the bottom of the window and onto the floor. but you’ve made up your mind. you need to call her. you know that she’s infinitely more experienced with these feelings than you are, so she’ll be able to help you, even if those feelings are about her.
she’s about to go to bed early when her phone rings again. she knows it’s you before she even picks up— you’re the only one with her number.
“yes?”
“…sevika.” you sob out, the small whimper of her name followed by sniffles and cries.
“holy shit, are you okay?” she asks frantically, scared that maybe you’re hurt or something.
“well… physically yes. but i just… miss you. i need to talk to you in person.”
“okay, yeah. i’m on my way.” she says, and she practically flies out of her building and down the street to get to you. it’s not late, but the sky is already pitch black due to how early the sun sets. you meet her at the door again when she arrives, and the sight of her instantly calms your nerves. she looks so worried, it makes your heart twist. you’re so in love and it’s all her fault.
she doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in her arms as you sob into her shoulder, and this gesture only makes you sob harder. because you’re so in love and you think you know which side you’re choosing. and it breaks your heart.
“what’s going on?” she asks, and you realize you’re still standing in the doorway.
“come inside, i’ll explain.”
“okay…” she whispers. “did something happen?”
“i have a question.”
“of course. ask me anything.”
“do you ever…” you trail off, trying to find the right words. “feel like… like you can’t live without someone? and you’d give up anything to be with them?”
“yeah, i guess i’ve felt that way before.” she admits quizzically.
“what’s it called?” you ask, although you already know the answer.
“love?” she guesses.
“sevika, can i tell you something?”
“yeah, go ahead.” she says, worried that maybe you’re about to admit to killing someone.
“i think…” you start, but you get interrupted by tears dripping past your eyes and down your cheeks.
“spit it out,” she prompts. “you can trust me.”
“i think i’m in love with you.” you blurt out, biting the bullet.
“oh…” she says, and she almost steps away from you before she realizes that you’re crying again. so she wraps you in another hug and rubs your back. you grip onto her so hard you can barely breathe, and you cry in her arms for so long that you’re brought to your knees. sevika holds you even after you fall the the floor, keeling before you as your knees give out.
she’s in love with you too, but she didn’t wanna say anything in case it made you uncomfortable. plus, she’s not really into corruption or anything, so she decided to just respect your boundaries. but eventually her joints grew sore of sitting on the floor, so she rose, holding your face in her hands and wiping up all of your tears as they fall.
v. REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH
every little thing about her attracted you. sevika was a lost soul, mysterious above all. a woman who needed help and direction but was so strong, you swore she could hold the whole world on her shoulders, no matter how much she’d whine about the pain. she complains about people— how there are too many of them and how they’re all stupid— but she’d give her life in a heartbeat to save them.
you couldn’t crack her, no matter how hard you tried.
she looked down at you with her silver eyes sparkling in the candlelight, her hair falling over her face in a silky curtain. you gasped as her thick hands took their place on either side of your head, each one cupping your cheeks so tenderly although they have a rough exterior. you always knew she was capable of being gentle.
you looked up at her from your position on your knees, her torso looking impossibly longer than usual. something comes over you, something that warms up your stomach until you feel so dizzy you feel the need to reach for something to steady yourself. unaware of just how much trouble this would get you in, you end up grabbing for her upper thighs. they’re so thick that your hands are almost completely flat, but they’re sturdy. perfect for grabbing onto.
she chuckles at your flushed state, huffing out an amused “it’s alright, you can touch me if you want. you won’t burst into flames.”
those two sentences make your cheeks heat up involuntarily. you know what she’s implying, and it makes you feel strangely electric. if you don’t burst into flames by this act of sinning, you’ll burst into flames due to how flustered you are. she does something to you that feels so enchanting, like some sort of spell she’s casted. you’ve been frozen in place for so long that you hardly register the soft caress of her thumbs against the apples of your cheeks. if she were medusa, you’d get turned to stone in an instant.
“sevika, what are you— we should—”
“what are you thinking about right now?” she asks, tauntingly putting an end to your stuttering mess of a sentence.
“uh— medusa. and you. you remind me of her.” you choke out, reaching up and gripping onto her biceps before hauling yourself up.
“how so?”
“i always feel like you put me under some kind of spell. like when i’m with you i’m frozen in place. in a good way.” you respond, your breath tickling her face as you gaze up at her from a closer distance this time.
most of your dizziness has relented, and now you sense something softer in the way sevika gazes at you. like she’s pleading for something she doesn’t know how to ask for. she stammers back, almost hitting the wall, and you grow concerned. the roles have shifted. little do you know, you’re in power now. she feels… weak. and needy. something tingly settles in her stomach, she can’t decipher whether it’s anxiety or horniness.
“sevika?” you ask with concern, slowly walking over to where she’s pressed against the wall. her chest heaves as she breathes deeply, and she shivers when you reach out to grab her hand. “are you feeling alright?”
“i don’t think i can do this anymore.” she confesses, her big, silver eyes growing glossy with tears. “i’m— i can’t do this to you.”
“what are you talking about?” you attempt to soothe, worried that maybe she’s suddenly gotten possessed or something.
“you belong here, sevika. you’re not doing anything wrong. if anything, it’s me who should back off right now.”
“it’s not about that.” she sighs, unable to meet your gaze, her eyes instead settling for your lips. a sight she’s seen many times before in her most erotic fantasies.
“what are you feeling right now?” you ask, your therapist persona settling over you in case she’s about to reveal more of her past trauma.
“i… i can’t say it.” she whispers, now solely focused on the curve of your lips and how they’re still shining from the last time your tongue trailed over them.
“you can trust me.” you whisper back. “always.”
sevika studies your words in her mind, hoping that you’d still mean them if you could see the thoughts running wild in her mind right now. she inches closer to you and her nose almost brushes yours. the tension in the room makes her squirm, thighs pressing together in an attempt to soothe the ache between them. somehow, in some strange way, this feels better than sex. better than anything she’s ever smoked, any liquid she could get drunk on.
you are her intoxicant. her stronger substance. her higher power. her breath of fresh air in this humid town. you are what she’s been searching for.
before she makes another move, she pauses. you’re looking at her with such concern, such love, her heart feels like it’s gonna burst. she theorizes that you’re aware of exactly what she’s thinking, but she has no way to know. sevika wonders how you’d react if she leaned forward and kissed you right now.
you have a sneaking suspicion that she’s thinking of something… lustful right now. it shows in her eyes. wide with pupils big and blown out, and the silver in them is practically glittering. she looks pretty, you think, and soft. and although it’s against almost everything you believe in, you probably wouldn’t mind if she leaned in right now and just—
her lips come crashing against yours, a beautiful harmony of carnal aggression and tender care. gravity suddenly feels about twenty times stronger, and you near collapse in sevika’s strong arms. instead of that, you regain your balance after stumbling and back her against the wall. her back hits it with a thud, and she whimpers into your mouth. she whimpers.
it’s as if everything you’ve ever believed in suddenly floods out of your mind. you don’t care which god sees you kissing another woman with such animal desire. somehow it doesn’t matter to you anymore. all that matters is sevika. her safety, her trust, her pleasure.
for once, you allow yourself to feel this way. although it feels wrong, it’s so freeing. you’re an adult for god’s sake, and you’ve missed out on so much due to the strict rules of the church. you want this, you deserve this. after all, it is technically your job to guide sevika, to make her feel good. how is this any different?
as her lips part, you take the chance to slide your tongue over hers. just a gentle brush, but the warm heat of her mouth drives you crazy. her hands claw at your hips, pulling you closer until there’s no gap between the pair of you. this level of closeness isn’t something you’re used to, but fuck, it feels so right.
you can feel the way her thighs tighten when she squirms and clenches them together, feel her own tits rub against yours through your clothes. the intimacy of the moment almost feels awkward, especially because it’s completely silent other than the sounds of your lips smacking together. but before you can dwell on the embarrassment crashing over you, sevika grounds you by moaning your name into your mouth.
as if you weren’t already turned on, this flips a switch and activates something in you that’s a hundred times stronger. both of you pant when you pull back, staring into the silver pools of sevika’s irises. you need her. now. in every way possible.
“take your clothes off.” you demand. sevika nods momentarily, but she hesitates.
“are you sure? we don’t need to— if you’re not comfortable with it that’s fi—”
“now, sevika.” you huff at her attempt to be gentlemanly, but you know she’s craving this as much as you are.
without another word, she strips herself of her shirt, leaving her in just a black sports bra and jeans. you halt your own undressing to stare at her. and god. she’s fucking perfect. her abdomen carries the remnants of what you assume used to be a thick six pack of abs. and although you can’t exactly see them yet, her tits are wide and heavy looking, her ribs poking out slightly under them.
something that you didn’t expect to turn you on is her happy trail. she’s got a thick line of dark, coarse hair running from her belly button all the way down to—
her pants drop to the floor as you continue to stare at her, and your eyes trail lower and lower until they reach the ground. her thighs look impossibly thicker, and you’re surprised about how much she complains about her body. she looks so strong, like nothing could ever hurt her. and as for being insecure? impossible for someone who looks as good as she does. you’d do anything to make her aware of just how beautiful she is.
as she stands almost naked before you, she peeps out a timid “your turn.”
before you think twice, you tackle her to the floor, crushing her lips under yours and shoving your tongue back into her mouth. she whimpers when she hits the ground, albeit mostly out of pain instead of pleasure. you slightly pull away with a gasp, concerned about potentially hurting her— the opposite of your intentions.
“fuck, sorry.” you groan against her lips. “did i hurt you?”
“it’s alright.” she responds. “worth it to have a pretty thing like you on top of me.”
with that, you’re kissing her even deeper, grabbing onto the back of her head to get a better angle with your tongue. she shuffles slightly under you, bucking her hips up as she unbuttons your own pants. shit, you think to yourself, i’ve never done this before.
your bottoms are quickly discarded, sevika throws them somewhere behind you the second they’re off. you’re dying to get your hands on her tits, but you don’t know how to ask. it’s a good think she can always tell what you’re thinking, because she reaches up to hook her thumbs under her bra and yank it off. and god, you were right. her tits are wide and heavy, they’re so smooth and round with the most perfect brown nipples sitting proudly in the center of each one.
you lean forward to give each one a kiss, just a gentle brush, but it doesn’t really satisfy your craving for her. you pout, you’re so horny that it hurts. no matter what article of clothing she removes, it’s not enough. you just wanna crawl inside of her and live there.
“what’s wrong?” she asks.
“i need you.”
“have you ever had sex before?”
���no. i have no idea what i’m doing.”
“guess it’s my turn to guide you.” she laughs, and although the joke was stupid, you giggle too. you didn’t know it could be this fun.
she shuffles under you as she slides her boxers off, and you almost drool at the sight of her bush. it’s just so… beautiful. and intimate. she pats your hips as a signal to scoot off of her, and she spreads her legs before manhandling you to sit your cunt on top of hers. as soon as you connect your cunt with hers, you swear you black out.
it all feels so good. she keeps spreading her legs wider to help you get a better angle against her clit, and you can feel it throbbing against yours. you thought holding her hand was intimate, but this is so much more than you could’ve imagined.
“fuck, sevika.” you moan, tears crashing over you again and dripping onto her cheeks now. “you’re so beautiful.”
she groans at this, tears washing over her too. she hasn’t felt beautiful in so long, and here you are completely undoing her insecurities. all of the scars on her face, cheeks, neck, arms, and torso get kissed. you trail your fingers along some, your tongue along others. you want her to feel loved. you want her to feel the exact same way that she makes you feel.
“you’re beautiful too.” she admits sheepishly. “i can’t believe i haven’t fucked you sooner.”
this flusters you. it’s hard for you to believe that anyone can just be this confident saying things like that, especially because you’re not used to it. but it feels so good to be desired. to have the woman of your dreams using you to get off.
you’re both so sensitive that it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum. sevika’s catches her first after you tell her how beautiful her scars are, even though she used to believe they were the ugliest things known to mankind. she gasps as she cums, her thick cream leaking out of her cunt and down her ass.
you eventually follow after her when she readjusts, moving one of her hands down from your neck onto your hip. she grinds up into you, and your clit meets hers at such an angle that you cum with a scream. it’s dizzying. you gasp and moan and writhe as your orgasm crashes down over you. considering that it’s your first, you weren’t expecting it to be so enveloping. you were taught that sex was unholy, gross, sinful, and a plethora of other negative adjectives.
but it’s not.
you imagine that this is what heaven feels like, a shock of pleasure that runs through your body and leaves you panting and reeling. and it’s fun. as soon as you come down, sevika’s congratulating you on a good job and holding you close. you cry again, but this time not out of fear, out of certainty. you have it all figured out. you’ve just felt the best sensation of your life and here’s the love of your life smiling up from under you.
and so sevika holds you for another few minutes. yeah, you’re both naked in the middle of church, and yeah you’d be burned at the stake if anyone ever found out. but you wouldn’t mind that, as long as you have sevika with you.
“sevika?” you ask after a long while of silent kisses and tickling breaths.
“yeah?”
“i think we need to get out of here.”
“alright. where to?”
“i dunno. let’s leave the country.”
sevika laughs at this, and it’s a sound prettier than anything you’ve ever heard. something you’ll never get sick of. “fuck, i love you so much.”
but before convincing her to leave the country with you, you drive her to a small 24 hour diner down the street and have dinner together. it’s a real date, although all of those coffee shop meeting have gotta count for something too. you hold her hand across the table, this time not afraid, and share a milkshake just like they do in the movies.
so yeah, maybe things didn’t work out for you with this certain group of people, and maybe it does still take a while for you to get over your fear of societal rejection, but sevika is there for you every step of the way. as your girlfriend. officially.
OK HAIII if you made it all the way through my the treacherous jungle of my yap and you’re reading this, thank you so much!!!! i poured my entire heart and soul (and pussy) into this so i hope u enjoyed hehehe :P special thanks to pluto, rayray, eren, and lyss for allowing me to yap about this fic to them, i couldn’t have done it without you guys 🥹 my favorite people in the world right here, MWAH here’s a kiss from ennabear <3 and another thanks to the rest of my mutuals for putting up with the empty promises of “coming soon” at least it’s actually finished now!! i love all of you, let me know what you thought of this one!!! comments and reblogs are very highly appreciated 🤎🤎
#i’m so shocked that i actually finished this wtf 😭 BUT MY BABY IS HERE#PRIDE AND JOY IS FINALLY DONE COOKING#idk what else to say my brain is so fried i’ve been writing for so long#sevika#sevika arcane#sevika x reader#sevika x female reader#sevika x you#sevika arcane x reader#sevika smut#arcane sevika#arcane#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends#arcane season 2
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
omg you mind holy wow i love your brain i would never come to lobotomize you omgomg by god i need more bartender!simon you recently mention, maybe abt how they interact and develop? idk i really dont care what exactly you write, i js need any words from you abt bartender!simon
Hmmmmmm I have some headcannons!
You show up for work thirty minutes early because you're NOT risking losing this job.
Simon sometimes lets you bang on the back door for a few minutes, yelling for someone to let you in, until Soap gets tired of hearing it and opens the door. Simon finds it funny.
You think Simon is the owner of the pub until Price comes in one day with cash for your tip payout. You screamed as soon as you saw him walk in through the backdoor, thinking you were being robbed.
Simon barely managed to swing into the kitchen and grab you around the waist before you pummeled Price with an empty beer keg.
Price later told Simon he thought you were a perfect addition to the team.
You do your tips at the end of the bar every night as Simon polishes the glasses across from you. Lets you have one drink on the house.
First floor is the restaraunt/pub, second floor is the pantry/walk-in fridge/office where Price does money work, third floor is the studio apartment where Simon lives (Price discounted it for him).
When it's slow, you and Simon and Johnny all take a smoke break in the alley out back - you don't smoke, but you talk to them while they share a cig, complaining about customers together.
You bring it up to Simon that you've noticed how Johnny always comes to the front of house when Kyle brings the new kegs in, "Simon, need ya to check somethin' - ah, hey, Garrick!"
Simon scoffs at your revelation. "Jus' now seein' that?"
You live ten blocks away from the pub and ride your bike to work. Simon let's you stuff it in the alley for safekeeping.
If you're feeling especially sporty, you pop in your earbuds and take your skateboard. Simon nearly had the breath sucked from his soul when he saw you zipping by the window the first time.
You mop front of house because Simon hates it. Simon restocks the to go boxes because you can't reach the top shelf where the overflow sits.
You tried to pour a lager once when Simon was busier than usual. After watching you attempt it, he banned you from doing it ever again.
You enter Pino grigio in the POS as "peeno greeshio" and Simon hates it, but you love the way Soap cackles from the kitchen when he sees it.
Kyle sometimes sticks around to help you drag the new beer kegs up the stairs, and he shows you how to connect them to the taps.
You're constantly begging Price to set up a Karaoke machine in the corner of the bar. He says when you can afford it, you can buy it.
You broke the soda gun once; you and Soap were frantically filling container after container with tonic water while Simon was on his back under the bar, cursing and trying to turn the water off.
Monday mornings are deep-clean days, and everyone has to participate. You're all wearing sweats and bleach-stained shirts, pulling out the stove, sweeping behind the kegs, dragging the mats into the alley to clean them, emptying the fridge and scrubbing the entire thing.
Simon doesn't like to think too much about how hot you look in your sweatpants, ratty t shirt, and sweaty, flushed skin when you're exerting yourself.
You're constantly thinking about how those sweatpants hug his hips, those muscles in his arms flexing, and the grunts he makes when he's shoving the stove back into its place.
Simon gives you full permission to return any nasty attitude the customers dish at you.
After you go home for the night, Simon often finds himself lying on his bed, one arm behind his head and the other hand on his chest, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day - and they're all centered around you
#bartender ghost#ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost cod#cod x reader#call of duty#ghost headcanons
1K notes
·
View notes