Whatever, I Mean, Okay, Whatever
Fear Stalks the Land!
FRNDS 
zulu: Karen Gillam from Dr. Who, wearing a saucy top hat (Default)
Initially thought the toilet chain had come unhooked from the flapper: no prob

It came unhooked because the rubber hole on the flapper valve had worn through: boo!

Turned off water to toilet: success

Detached & extricated flapper valve (pointedly not thinking about all that gunk in there): success

Will go to store to see if they have flapper valves of the right size (will bring detached valve as reference): this afternoon

DID ALL WITHOUT CONSULTING DAD: so far so good
ignaz: icon by me, art by anne taintor (Default)

I said last time that I wanted to do more first-time recs, which I almost completely fucked up. Sorry?

Repeat After Me - queenieofaces

Teen and Up, 5880 words. Victor and Yuuri aren’t speaking the same language. Lovely, lyrical examination of their relationship’s evolution from Victor’s POV.

Yuuri seems to communicate best through euphemism, through metaphor, through talking around the subject rather than approaching it head on, and so Victor tries his best to mimic him, to take his words and echo them back.  If Victor lets Yuuri set their pace, lets him choose how to frame the conversation, Yuuri stops shrinking away.  If Victor meets Yuuri where he is instead of bounding ahead and hoping he’ll catch up, Yuuri inches incrementally closer, closes the space between them.  So Victor lets Yuuri set the starting conditions (Yuuri is katsudon) and Victor will mirror that back to him with modification (Victor loves katsudon).  It’s a convoluted method of communication, especially given that neither of them are speaking their native languages, but after so long dashing ahead and looking back to see Yuuri running away, Victor will take anything that works.

Calligraphia - emilyenrose

Mature, 2924 words. Victor gets a tattoo. Yuuri gets publicly embarrassed. Funny and charming.

“You’re so cruel,” says Victor. “Of course I’m not skating in a wedding outfit. That’s for our wedding skate.”

“Wedding skate?” says Yuuri, and eyes Victor suspiciously. Unfortunately it is completely impossible to tell the difference between Victor’s joking grin and his I-am-deadly-serious grin. “Victor, are we doing a wedding skate?”

in the spaces between - sixpences

Teen and Up, 7237 words. Another beautiful story about languages, really nice domestic fluff featuring the whole Team Russia ensemble.

Victor speaks Russian with him at the rink too, unless it’s easier to get Yuuri to understand something in English or Japanese, and even when he’s tapping his foot in full, calculating coach mode it’s an education in Russian zoology. Yuuri is porosyonok when he flubs his third jump of the day, ribka when he struggles to articulate the changes he wants to make to his step sequence for the free skate, voronyonok as Victor buttons up his new black wool coat against the winter cold.

He laughs, though, when Yuuri asks him what kind of animal a kotletka is.

“Oh, a very fierce and dangerous one. Your mother hunts them down every week at Super Yuki and smothers them to death with egg and dashi.”

Yuuri tries to mitigate his blush with an eye roll. “Did you have to start calling me a katsudon in multiple languages?”

Immaculate Dream, Made Breath and Skin - RC_McLachlan

Explicit, 2875 words. Crazy-hot first-time PWP. Best tag: “Yuuri Katsuki: Craving Cock Since 2007.”

Almost half his life has been spent training for the day that Victor Nikiforov takes him to bed, so when it finally happens after the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri's prepared. More than prepared: he's ready. No one's ever touched him as a lover, sure, but there's nothing that he hasn't already dreamed about doing or having done to him to make anything that could happen a shock.

But he's said it before and he'll say it again: Victor lives to surprise him.

Three Sheets to the Wind - mousapelli

Explicit, 9086 words. Three times Yuuri and Victor had sex. Hot and funny and adorable.

"You're gorgeous," Victor said, making Yuuri squirm even harder. Victor laid two fingers against Yuuri's collarbone and dragged them slowly, slowly down to his stomach. "All mine. My delicious katsudon."

"Stop bringing that up," Yuuri huffed. "You're the idiot asking me about eros when you knew I'd never had a…" Yuuri hesitated. He'd never had an anything.

"Boyfriend," Victor finished. "Well, you've got a boyfriend now, haven't you? We can talk more about your eros now, if you want."

Go, enjoy, and comment!

09.13.17 - Fic: Wet Ink
ignaz: icon by me, art by anne taintor (Default)
Second Yuri on Ice fic: Wet Ink, Yuri/JJ, 4584, probably more "mature" than "explicit" but who the hell knows.
ignaz: icon by me, art by anne taintor (Default)
I kind of can't believe it, but I wrote fic again, and it's anime fic, and it's porn, and who even AM I anymore, really:

Tiger Balm

Yuri on Ice, Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek Altin, 7451 words, Explicit. It wasn't the first time he'd been horny after a competition. He was fifteen, he was horny all the time.

Yuri gets a world record, a gold medal, and laid. He’d had no idea having a friend could be this much fun.
surprised
ifeel surprised
thedeadparrot: (flying)
I took a parkour coaching certification course a few weeks ago, and I'm still processing it. It was three full days of training, both physical training in parkour but also training in how to approach coaching. It was definitely not the sort of thing I was expecting to be as draining as it was. Coming off a work week, it felt like I was being shoved into another job. Which it kind of was. Coaching is a job.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I was the only woman there, and I was the oldest person there by about 4-5 years. I was still the slowest and the weakest, but not by as much as I was afraid of. I could keep up with the whippersnappers for the most part. It was tough, but I could handle it.

The real challenge was in the coaching. I felt somewhat prepared, having done a ton of TAing in college and going to a million classes in the area and watching what the coaches do. It turns out having the responsibility for the physical and mental wellbeing of a group of people (a bunch of the people in my class were teenagers) is way different than trying to teach them what a for-loop is.

One of the sessions I had to teach was almost a complete disaster. Granted, I only had three minutes to come up with something and was forced out of my comfort zone to teach the thing. Yeah, that didn't turn out so well. But I survived it.

I survived the whole weekend, actually.

It was an intense three days. The group I train with is intense. They believe very strongly in the importance of being intense. The mental part was a part of that, because parkour is a mentally taxing discipline, and I've seen it in myself and others just how much our mental barriers can keep us back. I value their intensity, because it also comes with a deep sort of self-reflection.

I've watched their Women's International Parkour Weekend 2017 video a whole bunch of times, especially when I feel in need of motivation or inspiration. And I love the Traceuse Portrait Project that came out of it as well. Maybe next year, I'll be able to go in person and experience that energy for myself. I'm definitely thinking of going to Vancouver for another women's jam.

Anyway, now that the course is over, I still have to do 20 hours of supervised teaching. My first class is this Friday. Eep. I guess we'll see how this goes.
Tags:
zulu: Karen Gillam from Dr. Who, wearing a saucy top hat (Default)
and write that sexbot comedy that's currently languishing halfway finished on my hard drive.

Today I hate myself and all my works. So I cleaned, because if I'm going to have a complete tantrumy meltdown like a two-year-old, I'm at least mature enough to clean up all the actual two-year-old's toys while I'm at it.

Then I had a shower to calm down, during which I had two thoughts: one, I could change the entire dissertation and that would SHOW THEM; and two, I forget what two was but it was very satisfying at the time. These were not reasonable thoughts but at least they were fighting thoughts, which is an improvement over "at least when I fail I'll be finished with this pile of excrescence."

Anyway, this post mainly to record the main point: The world is poorer for not having my sexbot comedy in it yet.
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