#i did this to myself and now you all have to experience it too with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

psyduc · 2 days

Text

pasta a la erik karlsson

THE INGREDIENTS: pasta. alfredo. meat sauce. raw (red) onion. hot sauce (cholula, judging by the video). ketchup (heinz, i think?). a little salt and pepper.

THE RECIPE: boil pasta, chop the onion, serve with all sauces. eat and not die.

hi my name is emily and welcome to jackass

instead of liveblogging this process, i'm just going to add my thoughts to one big post to make it cleaner <3

6:48 pm: the pasta is boiling. i keep looking over at the Pile of Sauces and giggling. i have whispered "what the fuck" to myself a few times now. i'm cooking the whole box, because we're all having spaghetti tonight, but i'm the only one brave enough to try... This

6:54 pm: erik did not mention this as part of the meal but i poured myself a glass of rose. the onion has been chopped. i tried to get them chunky to match the video but that's like too much man, at least have your onions DICED why are they in CHUNKS ERIK

7:05 pm: writing these time stamps i'm realizing i'm a slow cooker because i keep getting distracted by my playlist (rn it's rebel rebel by david bowie). i am starting the alfredo sauce and it's sinking in that i'm about to actually. eat this. like a few bites, there's no way i'm eating this whole plate (this is NOT foreshadowing)

7:07 pm: i almost panicked because i didn't think i had enough milk for the alfredo but surprise, i had EXACTLY enough. this is a good omen.

7:15 pm: everything is done, i am just waiting for the meat sauce to warm up. i'm still whispering "what the fuck to myself".

7:21 pm: it's time. to assemble.

i grabbed a small plate, but i'm realizing. maybe i should have grabbed less. this is revolting. and i'm not even done adding things

added and mixed. i'm laughing. erik eats this. before every game? it overwhelmingly smells like cholula which is fine but oh my god. oh my god? no. no. this poor man's stomach. oh my god

7:30 pm: i've put it off. it's time to take a bite

IT'S JUST. IT'S JUST A LOT OKAY. THIS IS A LOT OF FLAVOR AND NONE OF IT REALLY GOES TOGETHER? it's like way too acidic. biting into a red onion is a terrible surprise. it's too saucy and it doesn't feel Good in my stomach, like i have taken two bites and it's settled so heavily already. okay no three bites. it's... it's just upsetting. this is an upsetting experience. what the fuck is wrong with you erik karlsson. you eat this and then you go and play professional hockey?

FOUR BITES IN AND IT DOES NOT GET BETTER. why does he do this to himself like can we send someone to check on him fr i am genuinely concerned about this man like i made this meal for the bit but he willingly does this to himself?????? 82 games a season???????

IN CONCLUSION: i managed five (5) bites. they were all bad. don't make this. someone arrest erik karlsson immediately i am so serious.

#pens lb #emily.txt #food

341 notes · View notes

sailor-aviator · 3 days

Text

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

88 notes · View notes

archiveikemen · 2 days

Text

『Surprise Bag』 Story Sale: Prologue

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection and is not intended as replacement for official localisation. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

Ever since becoming the Fairytale Keeper, I’ve built some level of resistance to unusual happenings.

However, despite that, some strange things that happen in Crown still manage to surpass my expectations.

…

“Jude” (Ellis): Good morning, Kate. I’m going to make you happy today too.

Kate: … Jude, uhh… did you suffer a blow to the head?

“Jude” (Ellis): Eh? I didn’t take any blows to anywhere, I’m feeling great.

Kate: What happened to your usual scumbag attitude?! Are you sick? Injured, perhaps? We must take you to the hospital at once!

“Ellis” (Jude): Tch, what’s the ruckus about?

“Jude” (Ellis): Oh, Jude.

“Jude” (Ellis): Huh? Why is Jude me?

“Ellis” (Jude): That’s my line. Why are YOU me?

Kate: W-What?

“Elbert” (Alfons): AHHA! This is getting awfully amusing.

Kate: Al… wait, Sir Elbert?!

Kate: Don’t tell me… the one behind you is Alfons?

“Alfons” (Elbert): … When I looked into the mirror, I saw that I turned into Al.

“Elbert” (Alfons): It’s interesting to look at myself objectively.

“Elbert” (Alfons): Oh, El. Please put in more energy when speaking. It’s disturbing to hear myself sound so depressed.

“Alfons” (Elbert): … Energy? … I’ll try.

“Alfons” (Elbert): … ahha.

“Elbert” (Alfons): It was a mistake on my part to expect energy from you.

Kate: Maybe, or not just maybe…

Kate: — Did Jude and Ellis, Alfons and Sir Elbert swap bodies!?

Kate: How did this happen…?

“Ellis” (Jude): Definitely that quack’s fault, I’m going to beat him up.

…

All members of Crown gathered to question Roger, who simply laughed at the situation.

Roger: My bad. I can’t believe it took effect this fast. Aren't I a genius?

Victor: Don't say such things, Roger! Why did such a cute… I mean, serious thing happen?

Liam: Victor, you’re exposing your inner thoughts. Also, your words and facial expression don’t match.

Roger: I was conducting research on whether a curse can be transferred if I swapped the bodies of a cursed person with a normal person.

William: Your insatiable inquisitive mind is truly eye opening, but shouldn't your test subjects be a cursed person and a normal person instead?

Roger: I thought it’d be dangerous if something were to happen to someone who isn’t cursed, so I decided to experiment on these guys first.

Harrison: What do you take us for? We die just like normal people.

“Elbert” (Alfons): Let’s drown that four-eyed musclehead in the River Thames.

“Ellis” (Jude): Yeah. Tie some stone weights onto him and plop him in to make it quick.

Kate: Wait, please don't say such unsettling things with Sir Elbert and Ellis’ faces!

“Jude” (Ellis): But Roger is so cool for being able to make a drug like this.

Liam: … Now Jude is being a softie. Goodness, this is chaos!

Roger: Relax. I’ll produce an antidote if you let me collect the data I need.

Roger: … If I can produce an antidote, that means I can experiment on the others too.

Harrison: … You just said something disturbing.

Roger: I said nothing.

“Elbert” (Alfons): I must say, you have no rights to be bargaining with us. Pardon my vulgar language, but please die.

Harrison: Woah, um… Liam? Oi, oi. — Is he asleep?

“Jude” (Ellis): I touched his head, sorry. I was curious to see if I can use Jude’s curse’s abilities.

Roger: Heh, the curse’s abilities remain in the body, huh. So I am a genius after all!

(This is getting out of hand…!)

Kate: Please give us the antidote immediately, Roger!

Kate: … Oh my goodness, what’s going to happen if this reaches Her Majesty's ears?

Roger: She might fire me for this.

Roger: … That’s why you should help keep an eye on them so word doesn't get out, lil lady.

Kate: Eh? Roger? Hey!

“Ellis” (Jude): Tch… useless. Getting fired just like that.

“Jude” (Ellis): Oh, Jude, body can’t take cig—

“Ellis” (Jude): *cough*... tastes like shit. Ellis, you need to train yourself to take at least ONE cigar.

“Elbert” (Alfons): I could get away with a lot of bad things with this face, don't you think?

Alfons: … Is this spoon beautiful, Kate?

Kate: T-This is driving me insane…!

I so badly wanted it to be some horrible april fools joke, but the scene unfolding before my eyes showed otherwise.

At that point in time, I still didn't know.

— To be continued.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil story sale #william rex #harrison gray #liam evans #elbert greetia #alfons sylvatica #roger barel #jude jazza #ellis twilight #victor #aikm translation

55 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 2 days

Note

Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

54 notes · View notes

thecaffeinebookwarrior · 18 hours

Text

Foxglove

(Written by me. Originally published by Literary Times Magazine.)

I didn’t mean to summon the ghost. Okay, I meant to, but I regretted it.

My friend Cyprus knew it was a bad idea from the start. “You talk this way about every girl for two weeks, then you move on to someone else. Just put a curtain over the portrait and forget about it.”

“I can’t. Thinking about her hurts, and just the prospect of not thinking about her hurts more. I dream about her pretty much every night.”

Cyprus closed his eyes. His gold-rimmed glasses made him look like he was from another century.

I leaned across the table, making my eyes big. “You can do it, right?”

“I’ve only recreated the ritual in a classroom setting, and only for animal spirits.”

“You’re a straight-A student.”

“That doesn’t mean I can do it.”

But he could.

Ever since I moved here, the portrait of the actress had smirked down at me like a vixen. She’d died young, in the early 1920s – this house is split into condos now, but it used to all be hers.

After my last breakup, I looked up photos of her. She was most active during the 1910s, when stage actresses had a kind of dreamlike beauty: long tresses of dark hair, and huge, dewy, downturned eyes in the middle of a misty face.

I put the laptop down and went to bed thinking about her. I dreamed about her pressed against me, warm and alive. Since then, I couldn’t stop.

Cyprus showed up with a briefcase and his cat.

“Before I start, you should know I’m not doing this for you.” He put his cat carrier in the center of the room. He drew the sigils around it in chalk. He set up the candles. “I’m doing this because my professor said I could use it as an extra credit assignment.”

“It won’t hurt your cat, right?”

“I would never endanger General Pawshington.”

He had me sit cross-legged on the floor, then drew sigils around me too.

Then he opened his briefcase and took out a yellowed sheet of paper. “I can only say the words and perform the gestures,” he said. “Your yearning has to be strong enough to call her here. And then if she doesn’t want to stay, she can leave.”

“Got it.”

He started to chant, making swift finger motions, and I snickered.

He paused. “You have to think about her, or it won’t work.”

“Sorry.”

This time when he started to chant, I kept my eyes fixed on her portrait. Even when she began to materialize over the cat carrier – out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the shape of a tiny hurricane, twisting into the shape of a woman. I felt like if I looked at her, she’d vanish.

I imagined a relationship with a ghost. A ghost would never change – if they wanted change, they wouldn’t be here. They usually stayed tethered to one place. I imagined coming home to her day after day, her tether to the outside world.

“No,” she screamed. “No!”

I looked over at her. She was as beautiful as her pictures, her black dress fading into gray mist at the skirt. But she didn’t look sad or bemused, like she did in her photos. She looked furious, the whites showing around her pupils, her dainty mouth twisted in rage.

She looked between me and Cyprus. “Why would you do this?”

“I love you,” I blurted, at the exact same time Cyprus said, “Extra credit.”

She screamed so loud the cat hissed and the windows seemed to shake.

“Um,” I said, looking to Cyprus for guidance.

He didn’t look back. Just stared up at her with fascination and regret.

She dematerialized, dissipating into mist that seemed to scatter against the ceiling, maybe through it.

“Was that…supposed to happen?” I asked.

“Some ghosts react badly to being summoned. But if she’s unhappy here, she can return to the afterlife.”

She did not, for whatever reason, return to the afterlife.

It turned out that being haunted was not a fun experience. I thought if I could just tell her about myself, she’d like me as much as I thought I’d like her, but she wasn’t interested in that.

She slammed doors. Chilled rooms. Flung objects. Sobbed in the night.

“Can you please just talk to me?” I pleaded, after being woken up at 3 AM for the third time that week. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to meet you, that’s all!”

You know how when you’re in bed, you sometimes look up at the ceiling fan and picture it falling? Well, that’s what happened next. Fortunately, no bones were broken.

Cyprus’s extra credit assignment became his thesis project. He came back as my neighbor was complaining to me about the new “poltergeist problem,” unaware I was responsible for it.

“And who are you?” the neighbor asked Cyprus. “An exorcist?”

“Close. I’m a student from the Providence College of Necromancy.”

“Great. A student. They always send kids to solve adult problems these days.”

Inside, Cyprus called, “Foxglove!” For some reason, I don’t think I ever thought to address the actress by name. “Foxglove, you have to stop, or they’re going to send an exorcist to get rid of you.”

She materialized out of the air like mist – the first time I’d seen her since we’d initially summoned her. She really was so beautiful, her dark hair floating around her like a dream. “It’s not fair,” she said. “It’s my house.”

“I know,” he said, sadly. Well, sadly for him. He had a catlike way of emoting.

“I remember Heaven in flashes. I don’t think you’re supposed to remember it while you’re on Earth,” she said, sounding frustrated but relieved at having someone to talk to. “I want to go back so badly, but I don’t want to leave my life again. All I can do is yearn for what I had before.”

“Maybe you can tell me about your life,” said Cyprus, not disguising the interest in his voice. “I could write it down, and publish it. And people could read about you.”

Her eyes looked sad, dewy, and hopeful, like they did in the portrait. “I’d like that.”

I felt sidelined, like a third wheel. It bothered me that she forgave his selfishness just because he was open about it – I wanted someone I could love, he wanted an extra credit assignment.

My goal was selfish too, in the context that I’d pulled her away from her life – or afterlife – in the hopes that she’d be a part of mine. But wanting something to love wasn’t supposed to be selfish. And if it was, that was supposed to be forgivable, if only because it was so human.

I’d apologized. He hadn’t. He was open about his self-interest, his fascination with the predicament he’d created. But I could tell that if she forgave one of us, it would be him. If she fell in love with one of us, it would be him.

That night, he stayed over to listen to her talk about her childhood, her poverty, her discovery. About dancing and singing and playing Lady Macbeth, before performances were immortalized on film, when acting was still ephemeral. About the day after she did too much laudanum and drifted under the surface of the tub.

She wanted to pull herself back past the surface, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t will her limbs to move. “They say that those who take their own lives can’t get to Heaven,” she mused. “I did. But maybe that’s because I really wanted to live.”

Cyprus was listening, his recorder on the table next to him, taking notes. He was interested in every word, wanting to capture as much as possible. His intense curiosity, the Victor Frankenstein in him, was what made him a great student.

“I have some more questions I want to ask, about certain aspects of your life,” he said, switching off his recorder. “Can I come back Thursday night?”

“I’ll be here,” she said. Her dress had turned from black to white, and the mist she emanated had paled.

I could have tried talking to her.

Instead, I called my ex, and told her what happened.

“It’s just like with me, James,” she sighed. “You wanted her till she was a real person.”

It was true. I’d never met a girl I could love more than an idea.

“It’s lonely for me too,” I said.

“I know.”

“Why do you think it’s so hard to love someone right?”

“Because when you do, it becomes something you want to give to them, not something you want to take.” She said it like she’d been thinking about it for a long time, waiting for someone to ask. “I think that’s why we spend most of our lives learning how to do it.”

#short fiction #original short story #ghost story #romance story #my writing #writing #fiction

43 notes · View notes

writing-whump · 2 days

Note

I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it

Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙

Cinema sickness

The middle position was the best.

Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.

Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.

Matthew was a little too embarrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.

They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.

Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.

"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.

"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.

Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.

"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.

"Isn't animation for children?"

Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.

Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.

"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."

"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.

"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"

"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"

Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."

The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.

So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.

How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.

His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.

Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.

He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.

Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.

Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.

He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.

Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.

His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.

Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.

Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.

"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.

Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.

"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.

"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.

Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.

Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.

"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.

It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.

Matthew would have to move.

Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.

Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.

Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."

Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.

Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"

Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.

Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.

He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.

The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.

Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.

"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.

The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.

"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"

Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.

"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.

"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.

He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.

Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."

Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.

He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.

He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"

"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.

Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."

"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.

"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.

Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.

It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.

Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.

Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.

He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.

Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."

Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.

More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.

When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.

"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.

"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.

He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.

Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.

He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.

And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?

#sickfic #motion sick #emeto #hurt/comfort #whump #werewolf wip #my writing #Matt

34 notes · View notes

mariclerc · 2 days

Text

A project of love | ls2

Summary: where you have to do a project with your crush and you try not to fall for him.

Warning: none.

a/n: requested and dedicated by @bananaleclerc I hope you like it!! And yes, I need a break from posting so much 😂😂

You're hunched over a textbook at a library table, surrounded by scattered notes and a half-eaten granola bar. Just then Logan enters the library, a whirlwind of energy and a backpack overflowing with what looks like every microbiology textbook ever written.

He slammed his books down next to you. “Hey there, study buddy! Ready to conquer the microscopic world?”

You jump a little, startled. He flashes a dazzling smile. “Uh, yeah, hi Logan. I was just... uh... reviewing.” You say, trying to sound casual.

“Awesome! Me too. Though, to be honest, my brain feels like it's about to explode from all these bacteria names.” He pulls out a chair dramatically and sits down. “Did you get a chance to look at the project outline Professor Davies sent? Apparently, we're germ-fighting partners!”

Your stomach flips. Internally screaming, you manage a smile. “Yeah, I saw it. Partnered up, huh? Makes sense, I guess.”

“Definitely! We balance each other out, right? You with your quiet genius vibe, and me... well, I bring the enthusiasm.”

You laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I wouldn't call myself a genius, but hopefully, I can keep up with your... enthusiasm.”

“Oh, you will, trust me. So, what do you think? Should we start with some foundational stuff, or dive straight into the exciting world of, like, antibiotic resistance?” he grins.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “Maybe foundational stuff first? That way, we're both on the same page when we get to the more complex topics.”

”Sounds like a plan! But hey, don't worry about keeping up. Like I said, I'm basically a walking microbiology encyclopedia. Just ask away if you get lost.”

You nod, but your mind is racing. Trying to focus on the project feels impossible now that you're so close to him.

You clear your throat. “Okay, so... cell walls of bacteria... what were we talking about those in lecture?”

Logan launches into an explanation, peppered with jokes and pop culture references. You try to concentrate, but all you can think about is the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he's passionate about.

Later, after a productive study session, you're packing your things.

“So, should we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?”

You feel your heart pounding. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“Great! Hey, you seem a little quiet today. Everything alright?” he asks softly.

You force a smile. “Yeah, no, I'm just... tired, I guess... All this studying.”

“Studying can be draining! But hey, at least we're suffering together, right?” He winks at you. “See you tomorrow, germ fighter!”

He flashes another smile and throws you a peace sign before walking off. You sigh, a mix of frustration and a secret thrill bubbling in your chest. Studying with Logan might be the most nerve-wracking, yet strangely fun, experience of your university career so far.

You watch him disappear into the library crowd, a bittersweet pang in your chest.

You mutter to yourself. “Germ fighter, huh? More like heartbreaker.”

You gather your things, a sudden wave of determination washing over you. You like Logan, a lot. But you can't let that distract you from the project. You take a deep breath and head out of the library, a plan forming in your mind.

***

The next day, you arrive at the study table a few minutes early. You've spent the morning making flashcards – not just on microbiology, but also on Logan's interests you've gleaned from his conversation snippets. Genetics? Check. Obsession with the movie "The Andromeda Strain"? Double check.

He bursts in, a little late and slightly out of breath.

“Sorry I'm late! Professor Davies got us sidetracked talking about her research on bioluminescent bacteria. Apparently, there's a kind that glows neon green – can you believe it?” He says hurriedly, making you laugh a little, just then he notices the flashcards on the table. “Whoa, flashcards? You serious?”

You nod smiling, not as nervously as yesterday. “Just thought they might help us remember all this complex stuff. Besides, I found some fun facts related to the topics we need to cover. Maybe a little trivia can keep things interesting?”

His eyes wide at your words. “You got fun facts about bacteria? Okay, you officially win coolest study partner ever! Shoot, let's hear one.”

You pick up a flashcard and grin. Maybe studying with Logan won't be so bad after all. Maybe you can find a way to balance your academic focus with a sprinkle of something more.

***

The following week becomes a whirlwind of flashcards, late-night library sessions fueled by takeout, and a slow, simmering tension between you and Logan. Your knowledge of bacteria trivia becomes legendary, earning you surprised yet impressed glances from Logan. He, in turn, starts bringing coffee (with extra whipped cream for you, which you secretly adore) and peppering the study sessions with personal anecdotes, revealing a surprisingly deep and caring side beneath his bubbly exterior.

One rainy afternoon, hunched over a microscope analyzing bacterial cultures, Logan asks. “Hey, you ever wonder what those bioluminescent bacteria actually look like in real life?”

You glance up, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. “Not really.” you admit, “but Professor Davies said she has some under a special microscope in her lab. Maybe we could ask if we could take a peek after our next class?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Perfect... We can make it a little research adventure.”

The stolen glance you share sparks a warmth in your chest, a silent acknowledgement that this is more than just a study session. The next day, after you convince a hesitant Professor Davies to let you glimpse the glowing bacteria, you find yourselves alone in the dimly lit lab.

As you peer through the microscope, Logan leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Wow.” he whispers, “they're incredible.”

You hum in agreement, captivated by the tiny emerald lights dancing before your eyes. The silence stretches, charged with unspoken emotions. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath tickling your ear.

Suddenly, the lab door bursts open, revealing Professor Davies returning from her meeting. You and Logan jump apart, both cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Did you get to see them?” she asks cheerfully.

“Yes, Professor,” you stammer a little bit, “they're amazing!”

As the week progresses, the air between you crackles with a new awareness. You find yourself stealing glances at Logan as he talks, your heart skipping a beat when he laughs at one of your jokes.

During a particularly frustrating attempt at culturing E. coli, you blurt out, “Ugh, these bacteria are so stubborn!”

“Hey,” Logan says softly, placing a hand on yours, “we'll figure it out together... Like always.”

His touch sends a jolt through you, and you meet his gaze, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. In that moment, you both know this partnership has become something more, a budding connection waiting to bloom amidst the petri dishes and microscopes.

The shared look hangs heavy in the air, the frustration of the stubborn E. coli forgotten. Logan's hand lingers on yours, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and a blush creeps up your neck.

“Maybe,” he starts, his voice a low rumble, “we should take a break from these little buggers. Grab some coffee, clear our heads?”

You nod mutely, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Stepping out of the lab, the rain has stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean. As you walk side-by-side, a comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at Logan, his profile sharp against the setting sun.

Reaching the familiar coffee shop you frequent, you order your usual, Logan opting for his favorite with extra whipped cream (a detail that makes your stomach flutter with a strange mix of amusement and affection). Settling into a quiet corner booth, you both sip your drinks, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.

“Thanks for sticking with this project,” Logan says, his gaze fixed on you. “It wouldn't have been nearly as fun without you.”

A shy smile graces your lips. “It wouldn't have been so bad with you either.”

He leans closer, his eyes searching yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, “Can I do something?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You nod hesitantly, a shiver running down your spine. He closes the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek. His touch is soft, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss is tentative at first, a brush of lips that sends a wave of heat through your body. But then, something shifts. He deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cradle your head, tilting it for better access. You melt into him, the taste of coffee and something uniquely Logan swirling on your tongue.

The kiss is brief, broken by a gasp for air. He leans his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Wow,” he breathes, a mixture of awe and amusement in his voice.

You can only manage a shaky smile, your heart overflowing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, only you and Logan exist in this small corner of the coffee shop.

As you pull back and smile, a newfound confidence sparks within you... Maybe this partnership, born amidst bacteria and microscopes, could blossom into something more. And you, for one, are eager to see where it leads.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #logan sargeant #logan x reader #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x you #logan x you #logan x y/n #logan sargeant fluff #mariclerc fics

52 notes · View notes

gwennybriggs · 10 hours

Text

After All This Time

Can’t keep my mind focused on the last chapter of Pick and Choose (surprise surprise lol) so enjoy this tidbit. :)

Wc: 1.6k

Melissa Schemmenti x fem reader

Summary: Many years after the first time she asked, you’re finally able to give Melissa the answer she’s waited her entire life for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melissa sat at the breakfast table with a plate of toast, bacon, and eggs; she smiled up at you as you placed a hot cup of coffee in front of her and took your own seat. She looked out the window to your backyard to watch your adult children play soccer with your husband. You watched as the corners of her eyes crinkled with silent laughter, taking in every detail of her face like it was the last time you’d ever see her again.

Every year, Melissa spent a week of her summer break visiting you and your family in Maine. You were childhood best friends, you went to college together, she fell in love with you and you turned her down to be with your now husband. But even after you broke her heart, she stuck around. Melissa was a bridesmaid at your wedding, and earned the title of ‘aunt’ when your twins were born. She was there for every birthday and holiday, every cheer competition and weekend soccer game, she was even there to make soup and clean waste baskets when the whole family caught the flu one summer break. In turn, you were there for her marriage to Joe and their eventual divorce. You helped her get back into the dating world just to watch her give up and resign herself to a life alone, claiming that having your family to spend time with was enough for her.

“My God, when did they grow up?” The redhead let out a watery laugh as Melanie tackled Ethan to the ground and wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I ask myself that every day. It seems like just yesterday we were planning their baby shower, now they’ve graduated college and are spending their last summer at home before they move away for their big kid jobs,” you said with a wistful sigh.

Melissa glanced at you with sorrow in her eyes and drifted into her own thoughts. Silence filled the air again as you both nibbled at your breakfasts and stared out the window. She wanted so badly for this to be her reality: to wake up every day for breakfast with you, for those two knuckleheads of yours to be her own too, to experience all the little domestic moments in life with you. All of it.

As far as she knew, you never thought about the day she asked you to run away with her in college. You never spoke with her about it after you let her down (except for that one drunken time she asked again at your bachelorette party, but she forgot about that the next day), you just kept going through life as if it never happened. Really, you thought about it every day. Back then your parents controlled every aspect of your life: which college you went to, what you majored in, what you wore, who you were friends with, and even who you dated. They were strict and if they even had an inkling that you were into women they would have pulled back from your life completely, leaving you with nothing and no one. You were scared of losing everything you ever knew, so despite wanting nothing more than to take Melissa’s hand and be hers forever, you married the man they wanted you to and kept your true feelings bottled deep within.

Slowly, you reached for the hand she had wrapped around her mug and held it in yours. She tore her eyes away from the game outside to look at you in shock; you hadn’t held her hand since your wedding day. You leaned across the table and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, hand remaining in yours. “Y/N?”

“Ask me again.” You half whispered.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“What you asked me all those years ago.” You squeezed her hand, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Ask. Me. Again.”

Her eyes fell to the napkin on her lap. “I can’t take that heartbreak again, hon. Plus, you have Mike and the kids, it wouldn’t be fair to them. You’ve got a happy family now, you don’t wanna lose that.”

“We’re not as happy as we seem, Red. Besides, Mike‘s always known. You’ve been the one for me since before I could put words to feelings.” You squeezed her hand again, a quiet plea for her to look at you. This time she squeezed back but she still couldn’t bring herself to look up.

She was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Your mother would kill you.”

You chuckled, “I’m fifty somethin’ years old, it’s past time I cut those apron strings. What’s she gonna do? Take away my inheritance? She’s used most of it to spoil her grandkids anyway.” You lifted her chin to look at you. Your tone turned back to serious. “The kids know too. They won’t tell me they know, but they do. Ethan overheard me talking to Mike a few months ago about the divorce, I heard him run down the hall to tell Melanie. They’re adults now, I think they understand why and how things change.” Your voice caught in your throat, “We’ve known for many years that this marriage would end as soon as the kids were outta the house. Mike and I have talked about it a hundred times. We promised each other that we’d play ‘happy family’ until we knew the twins would be alright. This is our last ‘normal’ week before we sign the papers and our not-so-baby birds leave the nest.”

Mel wiped away the tears that spilled down your cheeks and you gave her a small smile. You’d loved her your whole life, and after everything you’d been through together you never thought you’d feel like you could lose her until that moment. You were so scared she’d walk away, that all those feelings from years ago had been washed away with time.

“Ask me, Mel. Please?”

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the kitchen door swinging open and the twins bounding in to brag about their win against their dad. Mike made his way upstairs to shower without a word. Melanie hopped into Melissa’s lap, earning an ‘oof’ from her, and wrapped an arm around her neck. Melissa had always been her favorite person and you were okay with that, after all she was named after her.

“Aunt Mel, wanna go get ice cream with us to celebrate dad’s defeat?” Your daughter played with the bracelets on Melissa’s wrist, waiting for an answer.

“It’s like 10:30, isn’t it a little early for ice cream, Mini Mel,” the redhead laughed and your daughter’s nose scrunched.

“Damn, what happened to you being the cool mom,” Ethan asked as he stole the last slice of her bacon from her plate. “C’mon, I’m buying!”

Melissa’s smile faltered at the word ‘mom’ but she quickly fixed it, “Next time lead with that, kid. Go start the car, I’ll be there in a second.” She dug into her purse and tossed the keys to your son. Ethan beamed and Melanie raced him out the front door, fighting over who got to ride shotgun. Once everyone was out of the room, she directed her attention back to you.

“Just ask, I promise I won’t hurt you again. I wanna grow old with you and sit in recliners complaining about the price of eggs and milk. I want to spend the rest of my life in your arms. Please, baby.”

She sighed and screwed her eyes shut. You only called her baby when you were drunk. Hearing it come from your sober lips caused her heart to ache. She wanted it, a future with you, with her whole being. “You can’t drop everything for me, Y/N.”

“You’ve dropped everything for me our whole lives, it’s my turn. I’ll go anywhere, do anything, as long as it’s with you. I’m sorry it’s taken me thirty years to get here, but I’m here if you’ll have me. I’d get on my knees to beg, but I’m afraid I’d need you to pick me up.”

Melissa fought tears. “I’ll always pick you up when you’re down, hon, you know that.” She rubbed her eyes, fluffed her hair, and took a deep breath. “After Tweedle Dee and Dum eat their weight in ice cream we’ll talk. I want this, but there’s a lot of emotions that I don’t know how to deal with right this second.”

She began to walk away but you caught her elbow and turned her around. “We’ll talk later, but I still need you to ask.”

You looked deep into her eyes, love and longing swimming around in the pools of green. “Y/N, will you runaway with me and be mine for the rest of our days,” she choked out.

“Only if you promise to always be mine in return,” you teased.

“As if I’ve ever been anyone else’s.” She rolled her eyes and smiled gently.

You kissed her deeply, letting her know how much you truly loved her. Melissa’s hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place. Your whole body burned for her, just as hers did for you. She was the first to release from the kiss and you pouted at the loss of contact. She started walking backwards towards the door to join the twins, a grin on her face so wide you could see all of her pearly whites.

“Forever starts soon, better start packin’ doll.”

You bit your lip and waved as she turned around to leave, muttering an ‘I love you, be safe’ after you heard your kids yell for Melissa to hurry up. Before she was completely out the door she turned her head over her shoulder, “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”

#melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #fluff #angst #Aunt Melissa

40 notes · View notes

leonsliga · 2 days

Text

Leon Goretzka for Sports Illustrated Deutschland

-> In this Sports Illustrated interview, Leon discusses not being called up to the national team, his character, and handling high pressure situations. The new Adidas Bodycare brand ambassador also discusses his hopes for the future.

On the pitch you show strength, off the pitch you are known for your social commitment. How is it that you are so present and outspoken?

That has envolved over the course of my life, but the sense of justice has always been within me. The only thing that has changed over the course of my career is that I now have a much greater reach and more people hear my opinions.

How difficult is it to fight against adversity? Can something like this be trained or is it something you’re born with?

You have to learn to deal with it. Then you can take a clear stance—or you can just leave it be. Everyone has to decide that for themselves. But I can cope with resistance, even though some of the things that come at me these days are extreme.

How do you deal with pressure and disappointment?

Pressure is something very positive for me. I really like it. It probably helps me in my job too. When it mattered most, I was able to deliver top performances. I like a bit of pre-match jitters. That's why I'm not afraid of pressure. Disappointments are also part of it. You learn that very early on, especially in football. Losing games starts in training. But that’s why you play in a team; that's the beauty of team sports—that you can support each other. Like at FC Bayern this season, which wasn't quite as successful as we had expected and were used to. These are experiences that you can take with you and mature from.

Did it hurt you a lot not to be called up for the national team?

It was an extreme disappointment for me because I didn’t expect it. Afterwards, I gave myself a day to come to terms with the situation. The day after that, I looked at how I could rectify it. The best way to do that is to perform at your best and accept this new role.

How hopeful are you that you will be at Euro 2024?

Very.

What is your emotional world like? Do you always allow all feelings—even the negative ones?

Everyone has to find out for themselves how they deal with feelings. My recommendation would be to talk about them, but I don't always manage that either. I like to work things out on my own and let the process mature within me. I can draw strength from that.

How do you strike a balance between self-criticism and self-confidence?

Self-criticism and self-confidence are mutually dependent. Telling yourself that you are the best has nothing to do with self-confidence. You are strongest when you also know your weaknesses.

As a leader, do you always have to live up to the sometimes very high expectations?

Yes, that's the job of a footballer. We live in a fast-paced, day-to-day business. You're only ever as good as you were in the last game. In my career in club football, I've won all the major titles that you can win with a big club like FC Bayern. Nevertheless, this season I have experienced what it means to be criticized as a leader. It reminds you that you are obliged to perform week in, week out.

How do you build yourself back up again when things aren't going your way? Do you train even more then?

I don't make my training dependent on situations that I experience week after week. I have long-term training plans. But of course, the motivation to correct things when they go poorly is always there.

What role do negative fan opinions play? Should they be ignored?

You have to accept these things. Everyone has their own opinion. Of course, it would be nice if things were a bit more civilized, but unfortunately that's not the case. This doesn't just apply to football; it can happen to anyone on social media. It's extremely disappointing. We should think about how this can be regulated. I'm lucky that things don't bother me too much. But there are certainly many users who unfortunately don't get on so well with it.

The football business can be very tough. What do you wish for the future of football, especially for the players?

I don't know if I should give an honest answer to that.

We’re asking for one.

If I'm completely honest, we should stop trying to generate clicks at the expense of the players—both on social media and in reports.

Can football help people and society feel more positive?

The 2006 World Cup showed how football can galvanize our country. Germany's enthusiasm and interest in football are certainly back. As players, we can influence this huge potential if the German national team performs well.

You are an ambassador for Adidas Bodycare. What does "well-being" mean to you?

For me, "well-being" means that I have an awareness of my body. For the balance between strain and relief, but also for regeneration. Ultimately, it’s also about work-life balance.

#my idol for a reason <3 #I love how honest he is #what you see is exactly what you get with him #Leon was dropping absolute gems in this interview #‘telling yourself you’re the best has nothing to do with self-confidence’ is such a based thing to say #common Leon w #sorry if the translation isn’t perfect #I did my best #leon goretzka #fc bayern #fc bayern munich #fc bayern münchen #die mannschaft #dfb team #german nt #germany nt #footballer quotes #interviews

18 notes · View notes

jerejerejere · 3 days

Text

I absolutely love Lintu's analysis off kot kot!

(Thanks for giving a platform for additional thoughts ♡ i ended up typing so much that i thought i should also put this in a separate post 😅 i'm just curious what you all think!!)

Idk why it hit different when listening to the whole song but i almost ascended with the first couple of seconds it was so good. Even though i've heard it before. Maybe i was distracted then, who knows.

I'm so glad he teasered both elements of the song before the release because i would have died on impact with the kot kot part. Other than that i have nothing to add to lintu's thoughts - perfect. It's wild and chaotic but still somehow balanced and it doesn't feel like trolling but really sincere even in it's goofyness. The lovely moodyness! Totally!

The song adapts really well with every listen. You feel like you don't want to like it (as much as you do) but here you are replaying it a fifth time, a fifteenth time. Like a taste combination you're not sure you like so you have to go in a second time. And before you know it, you're hooked.

(I still don't love the kot-kot part but that's because i somehow just don't like the word, it's so dry idk.)

I love both parts - the rapping and the singing equally although i will say that i don't vibe with the autotune (it's autotune, right?) that much. (I want to hear your real voice Jere :') even if it's not 100% there yet) I love his voice so much. The high-pitched ''missä'' was a special treat 😫

I love the distorted metallic beats under the rap parts a *lot* lot.

Lintu's analysis of the lyrics is so interesting, i haven't thought of it that way - that this is not a song about the now but a projection into what the future could possibly look like.

Also interesting that the voice on the phone was both Finnish and English 👀 (a hint to friends in other countries and the distance they have?)

I really wish the song was longer. I had the same with ruoska, where it felt like the song was over as soon as you got really into it - blip! Over. (but maybe i'm just slow?) I also wish the 2 elements themselves lasted longer - there's no way you can get into them and really *enjoy* them before they end. And then i was like ... waidaminute! This is intentional! Time confetti! He doesn't get to enjoy his fame and/or private time long enough so neither do we get to live in these elements for too long. It leaves you a little rattled and disoriented. As someone else said - it's like edging 😅 it is! Without resolve. Because that would have been my other point - the song feels like working up to a really good climax but then - bok bok.. 😅😭 That sly little gremlin 😫💚

Also every time i caught myself thinking - hm, that's very commercial 😅 the song kicked the legs out from under me right away 😂 So good for him.

Which brings me to my next hard agree with Lintu - i soooo hope it's a concept album! I don't need to love every song but boy do i love when he experiments. I end up liking those later on mostly. So it's a delayed reward treat idk how to describe it better.

Lastly.

None of this, absolutely none of this, implied sexy poledancing. He just did that. 🙏🏽😫❤

So thank you Jere.

#allow me to be vain and rambly for a sec - sorry if you see this twice 😅#käärijä #please do tell me what you think :D i looove to hear your thoughts on this and in general 💚

19 notes · View notes