#I'm scheduling this for when I'll be on my way to a function so wish me luck

[lifemod17]

Hozier at Marlay Park, Dublin & Open'er Festival, Poland

🎥: Ruthlessimagery | instagram

07/05/2024 & 07/06/2024

[oshinsimblr]

hey friends! i was unable to post all of my early access content bc i'm sick. but i was able to post this video, which in my honest opinion are the major features in this 'romance' pack.

IS IT WORTH $40?

DEPENDS ON HOW BADLY YOU NEED THESE FEATURES TBH.

this review is brought to you by the ea creator network. all of my opinions are my own. i must disclose this per FTC guidelines #ad.

*i do not cover everything in the pack, only the things that stood out for me lol. i'm sorry i'm not used to doing full reviews up here

the attraction system is helpful and expands dating (which is great, but we've had mods that could do this for some time: pick your poison). the romantic satisfaction is the star here. i love being able to create one sided relationships and actually take care of our romantic relationships with sims. this is a valuable feature for me!

cupid's corner is a nice "hey i don't need this mod" anymore type of feature. prior to this i was using lumpinou's meet & mingle which allowed me to meet with sims (platonic and romantic). i dislike that you can not write custom bio's for your sims. i love the way the app functions, i love saving sims and adding them to our rel. panel - and getting to know them through the phone first. i wish we could've defined our sims favorite music/foods/color etc.

i'll admit it, i'm a sucker for dynamics. family dynamics from the sims 4 growing together are so good (minus the fact that everyone wants to be f*cking jokesters after one joke lol). but i love them! they really do impact my sims relationships. the different romance dynamics are interesting. for example: a strained romance dynamic makes it VERY hard for your sims to communicate. it's like your sims will randomly hug each other, but then 5 secs later they're upset. they want to love each other so badly but they can't lol.

now onto random things that excited me. you can go to cupid's couples counseling. i did not know we'd actually be able to answer questions. these sims had a strained romance dynamic and it was so bad - the therapist suggested we come back. but when i tried to schedule it again, they were booked and i had to wait to schedule another appt. which is great, because in the meantime your sims are going downhill fast and you have to keep the peace until then (if you choose).

there are new pop ups and invites. there's even one for a reality dating show lol. you can turn these off in game settings. (if you're wondering, mr. landgrabb never showed up at the motel he wanted to meet at. he stood my sim up. don't judge me, i thought there was simoleons involved).

new crafted dates are cool. you can choose whatever you want to do on them. there's new social interactions based on the activities you choose. you can also invite other sims to these (double dates woohoo!) you can also create crafted hangouts. i like these, i got this cute picture as a reward after a succesful crafted hangout. if you're familiar with mws weddings, it's the same idea. except this works well and isn't as glitchy lol..

another random feature i never needed, but now i find it useful. you can create your own relationship label that will appear in the rel. panel

it's unfair how gorgeous this world is... because there's nothing to do. this is all set dressing.

you can declare your love here.. at the wall of love.

you can buy flowers or edible sweet treats at this shop in the background.

you can get local food here. there are 3 new dishes and spicy hot chocolate. now, i'm not mexican (the world is inspired by mexico) BUT 3 new foods isn't cutting it for me. technically only 2, because one is a vegan option. no pozole, enchiladas, guacamole, tamales?? i'm a foodie, so i take full offense to that.

you can woohoo or sleep at the motel.

you can travel.

go fishing or enjoy a swim.

sit here and chat.

view this for a moodlet.

travel again.

check in a penthouse.

there's a nightclub, gym and lounge. but you get the idea.. there's nothing culturally unique about this world which makes me sad. no festivals? i'd love seeing a mariachi band play at the lounge. something. otherwise, keep the world and add more features right? i would've loved table proposals (sims 2 anyone?). or frisky couch makeouts. so many missed opportunities here.

there's more i could say but i feel like this post should be a little helpful in deciding wether this is a pack you need right now, or wait for a sale! i personally love having a complete colection, so i've always wanted every expansion. though i recieve the pack for free, i owe you my honesty and i want to start doing blog/written content because it's easier to process my thoughts through the excitment. i will enjoy this pack, i do like it, and only time will tell as i integrate it with my current gameplay. i hope this was helpful!

* if you remember, use my code OSHINSIMS at checkout if you decide to purchase this pack. that way, at least i get a % of your purchase and EA doesn't get all your coins 😉

thank you! just keeping simming, always stay wavy, peace x

[ohcroculus]

❝ Be My Baby ❞ ── Tobias E. Rogers.

pairings; ticci toby x fem!reader

wc: 3.0k

warnings/notes; my own headcanons , reader is teacher in elementary school , this is mostly reader-centered (a way i like to narrate and that i will explain briefly: creepypastas are people alien to the protagonist. therefore, the protagonist will go through life without knowing about the creepypasta until it is too late. most likely, my stories that have functional people -meaning people who work, study or have their normal life- as 'readers' will be of this kind of readings at least in certain cases) , mentions of killing and more. probably some mispelling mistakes.

The recent winter schedule change had applied to your work. As a teacher, it was clear that children would have more difficulty getting up, more trouble responding and that didn't qualify well for your classroom which, despite having children who were very quiet and involved, their parents also had a bad sleep schedule. Especially now.

You liked winter since you were little, maybe because of jumping in puddles of water on streets that had potholes or because you liked being at home by the stove while watching your favorite movies. Now, as an adult, it was a problem.

Your car was still at the mechanic after problems you'd been ignoring for months, but you'd always been someone who ignored those little details.

"It'll be running soon. It just needs a little bump to shake it out” was your way of excusing the roar of the engine that tried to listen to you until one exam morning when it wouldn't start anymore. Your students of course were thrilled.

Now walking in the rain with your umbrella in hand, your backpack on your back and your bag of school supplies in the other hand, you felt that your life was not so bad. The pay was good at school –probably because it was a town with few people– and the children's parents or grandparents were also very polite and understanding of your problems.

In a town where everyone knew each other, it was nice to know that you were already identified as 'Miss' at parent center meetings or neighborhood meetings. Proud of the title that hung in your home, of course. Oh, you had to pay the electric bill this week. A little reminder.

You adjusted your jacket a bit as you kept walking and among the thousands of job postings on the pole, you noticed a recent ad. The rain hadn't yet undone the paper and you slowed your journey to read.

“MISSING PERSON: KATHERINE WOODS. 10 years old.”

Your heart squeezed as you read the description. She was from a couple of towns over, missing after the murder of her parents. You remembered the case, you'd seen it on the news that morning it happened on Channel 5. The bodies were found with their throats slit in their beds, bound and gagged.

It reminded you of a movie that came out a few years ago. Sinister.

A small emptiness remained in your chest thinking about the crimes. Of course that happened in the country, but in small towns? Where everyone knew each other? It was terrible to know that a person came out of nowhere to slaughter people for… fun, in your view. There is no reason to kill innocents. No reason to leave children without their families.

Moving forward, you just wished the poor child would rest in peace. The information was already a week old and you were sure that, with pain in your heart, she was no longer in the world of the living.

“Ah, Miss!” a car passed by you and almost threw water on you, but as they slowed down it was a pleasant distance away to not get you wet. You turned and were surprised to see the father of one of your students and smiled at him, nodding.

“Good morning, Mr. Elias.”

“Would you like a ride?” he asked and for a few seconds you hesitated, but as the rain was slowing down in intensity, you denied. He worked on the outskirts of town and you'd rather he arrive on time. Walking wouldn't take you too long.

“Oh, thank you very much for the offer, but I'm fine. I'll walk,” you smiled at him and he politely insisted.

“Are you sure? It's no problem at all.”

“I'm fine, thank you very much. Have a good day at work.” you nodded and he said goodbye softly, smiling.

His son Thomas was a good boy, just like his father. Humble and caring. He had a good teaching. You still felt sorry for the death of his wife years ago, who sadly committed suicide in the forest.

You turned your head to the opposite side of the street where a few meters away you could see the fences surrounding the immense green place and sighed, thoughtfully.

Death is so close to everyone.

“Tch— t–that bastard–” you heard a little rustle a few steps away from you and as you turned to look ahead, you were surprised to see a boy hunched over. Bah, boy was being very nice, he was a man about your age. In his thirties. Your heart squeezed at the sight of him alone, sitting in the middle of the street and for a few seconds you even thought you recognized him as someone from around, but no.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” you asked from a safe distance. If he was a bum, you'd rather chose he didn't hit you or insult you, but he did neither. Instead, he bopped his head gently, but repeatedly and you took a step closer. “It's raining.” you reported, as if it were a surprise to someone who was completely wet. “You'll get sick if you don't go home.”

He didn't answer you and you didn't want to sit next to him, but the usual instinct of concern –which had been pedagogically formed in you– was stronger and you moved closer, making a small sound before touching his shoulder.

You had already had your share of different children in classrooms and from the way he acted it didn't seem to be a panic attack or something that could be life–threatening, but something of his own. Soft sounds before a physical touch were the ideal thing to avoid sudden movements or aggressive attitude.

“Hey.” you smiled at him and when he turned to look at you you kept the smile, though his face showed nowhere near the kindness you offered.

His hair was wet even underneath the cap of his jacket and he was wearing a black mask that covered his mouth and nose, so you could only see his eyes. They were brown, with a dull tone that made you question whether you should really talk to him. But leaving someone in the rain wasn't very kind and the weight of conscience would come to you later, thinking about what you could have done to help him. “What's your name?”

He blinked repeatedly and stuttered before speaking. “T–t... Tobias.”

“It's nice to meet you, Tobias. What are you doing in the rain?” you asked patiently, squatting down beside him, but he didn't move away, though he didn't move closer either.

“P-problems… with… m–my teammates...” he stammered, looking down at his hands. They looked a little purple, and you became concerned, though you didn't say so explicitly.

“I see,” you nodded and held out the umbrella so it would protect both of you. “Well… it wouldn't be good for you to stay here all morning, would it?” your voice was soft and gentle, the same one you delivered to your colleagues in the morning.

“Y–you don't care. Nobody gives a f–fuck ab–buh–bout what I do” he spat with annoyance and you were quick to correct.

“But you do care, don't you?” you cocked your head to the side, maintaining your smile. “You're here alone for a reason. You wanted time to think and you got caught up in the rain, or am I wrong?”

He snorted, but didn't deny your words and in a kindly way, you extended your umbrella towards him.

“And I care too… because everyone in this town must come home dry. There is always someone waiting for us. Like loved ones or just friendships… don't you think?” his eyes connected with yours and for a moment, he stood looking at you and you could better appreciate his face.

“There's no one for me.” he admitted hoarsely.

“Someday there will be. And it will be worth every second you fought with your coworkers.” you laughed softly and he shook his shoulders. Not a chuckle, but something close to one. “Go on home. Have a good day, Tobias.” you smiled at him as you stood up. The rain was softer now.

For a few seconds he just sat there, watching you leave. You could have sworn he smelled the umbrella, but you chose to ignore it. You always ignored some small details.

…

“All right, then— can you tell me how we feedback today's class?” you smiled at your students and at least three hands shot upward. Almost a month had passed since that rainy day and honestly, everything felt quiet. You didn't run into Tobias again and after talking to people around, you knew there was no Tobias in town, but maybe he was just passing through.

Maybe he was working in the electrical area and stayed at the inn in town. Since the winter started, the electrical problems were getting worse and worse. Short-lived blackouts, lights flickering in certain parts of town. It wasn't beyond belief.

You wrote down a couple of words on the blackboard. Key concepts that the kids copied into their notebooks before they started packing up their things.

“Remember that next week we have a formative activity. Form work groups of no more than four,” you reminded them, sitting down at your desk to begin planning next Monday's classes. Before they could speak to you, you anticipated, “And no, I will not accept groups of five.”

You heard some groans and laughed as you typed on your computer.

“Goodbye, Miss. Have a good afternoon!” ”Bye, Miss.” “Take care!” the goodbyes from the students were not long in coming and after a while, it was just you in the room.

Tap, tap.

You looked up out of inertia to turn to the window, but there was nothing there. It wasn't the first time it had happened, for a few weeks things had felt strange.

It's not that you didn't believe in the paranormal, but it was the first time something had happened to you since you were about twelve years old, maybe it was just the winter changes affecting your sleep and with it, your day.

You picked everything up once you were done, went to the teacher's cafeteria and noticed that it had started to rain again. Drops were falling and sliding down the windows. Maybe that's what you heard earlier. A short drizzle.

“Mhm…” you hummed a song you had heard on the morning radio on your way home as you put away the day's and tomorrow's material. You counted the copies, sighing to yourself.

“Job of four…that would be…so many copies…” you tried to remember, closing your locker and grabbing your backpack. Tomorrow morning you would arrive early to finish organizing it.

Walking at the entrance you politely said goodbye to the janitors who did the same and started walking with your cap on tightly to avoid getting your hair wet.

“Ah, teacher, this way!” in the parking lot of the school you noticed Thomas, raising his hand as his father arranged his scarf, his back to you, but soon Elias turned to see you and smiled sweetly.

“Would you like me to take you this time?” he asked and at the worsening rain, you sighed.

“If it's not too much trouble.” you scratched your cheek somewhat embarrassed, but Thomas was quick to get excited and reach over to take your hand, pulling you with him into the van excitedly.

The ride was uneventful. Thomas was telling his father about the day's homework, about playing with his classmates and more. You watched out the window as father and son had a pleasant conversation in which you preferred not to interject.

Maybe it was your idea as you passed by looking through the woods, but you swore you saw a figure with an axe that dissolved with the droplets fogging the car window.

“Miss, my father wants—” Thomas was interrupted by a loud cough and you turned quickly.

“Mhm?” you nodded, waiting for him to continue and Elias turned onto one of the streets, coming around the block to your place, braking in front of your house.

“I had thought of… inviting you to dinner one of these days?” he smiled shyly, looking to the side.

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, for you hadn't expected them. You knew it had been a while since his wife's death and you didn't want to intrude on a family, but from the look both males gave you, you felt welcome.

“I'll think about it.” you nodded after a few seconds. It wasn't to play hard to get, but rather to be able to, and it's worth the redundancy, think it over.

“Ah, of course. I hope that– the answer is yes, anyway, Miss.” Elias nodded as you got out of the van and smiled at them both.

“Thank you very much. Have a good afternoon. Don't forget your work for next week, Thomas.” you reminded the little boy who nodded.

As the van drove off, a slight but still present headache came to you and you hissed, holding your backpack better to enter your home. The door took a while –it always got stuck somehow– but soon gave way and you stepped inside. You took off your jacket, set your backpack on the couch and got ready to make some hot coffee. Anything to take the chill off your hands.

You tried not to dwell on the issue regarding the Williams' family and instead, got ready to watch TV, changing clothes to something more comfortable with a blanket on your intertwined legs.

Channel 5 promptly started up about another child disappearance which made you sigh nervously and clutch your mug tighter. In a family of five, all dead in some way. There was already starting to be talk of a serial killer a few days earlier. Your classmate, a philosophy professor discussed it in the cafeteria with other colleagues.

“He just goes after families and takes children. God knows what will happen to those poor souls.”

And she was right, which left you with even more anxiety.

You took another sip of coffee as the news moved on and so did the time. The lights flickered a little before your home suddenly went dark. You saw the time on your cell phone on the side and noticed it was almost nine o'clock at night.

There was no noise on the streets beyond the rain, so you calmly texted a co-worker.

“Is the power out at your house?” message sent at 20:43 PM.

“Not here. Did you pay the bill?” message sent at 20:44 PM.

“Yes. I paid it at the beginning of the month.” message sent at 20:44 PM.

“Maybe it's just a sector. It will be back soon.” message sent at 20:46 PM.

You were about to send another message when you heard a glass break from the second floor.

You stood still for a few seconds. Even the slightest noise was pertinent now and the rain was on the back burner.

“Someone broke into my house. Call the police.” message sent at 20:49 PM.

It wasn't a bird. You knew it wasn't. That force was from an elbow breaking glass. You knew because you once had to break the one in your car to get in again.

There was someone. Oh, god, there was someone rummaging through your things and your heart began to race. You stood up, setting the cup down slowly and carefully on the table in front of you, hands shaking.

“I–I'm not a good… s–singer…” the voice made your hair stand on end because you immediately recognized it. A month had passed, but it was impossible not to remember that voice. That stutter. “B–but I thought that… f–f–for a first date… it's ideal–to bring… m–music…”

The wood of the stairs creaked and with silent steps, you walked to the table, hiding underneath.

“And for those in love… this is a song by Anonymous for… a very special woman he met on a rainy day like this. We're moving on to Be My Baby by The Ronettes!"

The music gave you goosebumps and an instinct to gag was immediate as your body trembled to keep from crying.

“I uh, p–picked it for you…do you like it?” he kept moving forward and you heard his soft footsteps. “Be my… be my baby…” he sang in unison with the chorus. “I heard that… you put it on your-f-f-first day of school… to put the k–kids at ease…”

You couldn't even speak as you begged God to please don't die. That he would go away. That this was just a nightmare.

“Oh, since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you”

The music dropped a little as you heard him a few steps away from you and heard your phone vibrate on the couch.

“Fuck” your lips quivered as you raised your head in despair.

“My girlfriend and I... are b–buh...busy.” he spoke after answering, dropping the phone on the floor and you saw the glow of the electronic go out as his axe split it in two.

It was him. In the woods on your way back. Another wave of fear invaded your body.

“Come out, p–please… my boss doesn't give me… m–muh–much time off…” he muttered, still walking until he settled on the table and you heard him sigh. “I–I brought your… umb–brella…”

He was about to turn around when the lights came on again and you heard him give a light chuckle.

“You were waiting for me with a s–surprise…?”

The television in the morning was turned on as usual.

HORROR IN WILLOW CREEK: MAN FOUND DEAD, SON AND TEACHER MISSING

Willow Creek, February 12th, 2014.

A gruesome crime has shaken the quiet town of Willow Creek after Elias Williams, 36, was found brutally murdered in his home Sunday night. His death, described by authorities as “cruel and violent,” has only deepened the mystery surrounding the disappearance of his son, Thomas Williams, 9, and the boy’s teacher that we don’t have enough information about besides her age, 31.

According to investigators, Elias and Thomas were last seen Friday afternoon when they dropped Thomas’ teacher off at her home during a heavy rainstorm. When police searched her house, the only thing left behind was an open umbrella near the principal door with blood that, according to authorities, was from Mr. Williams.

Sheriff Mark Grayson has called the case "deeply disturbing" and urged anyone with information to come forward.

[master-sass-blast]

Let's Call it a Draw Between Us -Chapter One: Defeat.

Author's Note (uploading multiple works tonight, so I'm slapping this on all the fics I'm posting):

Uh... hi.

It's been a very long time. Longer than I'd hoped for, but suffice to say, this year hasn't gone according to plan.

In sum, I had a mental breakdown in Spring, got diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome in July, my husband totaled his car in September, I was sick for the whole month of October, my husband found a new (used) car... and then hit a deer at the end of November, and the insurance company ruled that it was totaled because the repair costs would be worth more than the value of the car.

Yeah.

There's been other shit, too, but part of what I've learned with the new diagnosis is that my body does not regulate or cope with stress well -which I sort of already knew, but it's to a vaster extent than I'd known. Essentially, this past year has just taken me out at the knees, and it will probably take my body a while to regulate and function well again.

I still want to write and post fics, but I now have a lot of anxiety around not being able to write and post fics (along with other things that my befuckened body interferes with), which is just... a lot. And frustrating.

I'm not throwing in the towel. But I also can't promise any sort of posting schedule moving forward. Right now, my body and brain are just too unpredictable, and I have to make sure I'm taking care of my basic needs (like eat and hygiene and sleeping, it's literally that difficult to deal with) so that I'm physically okay.

Thank you all for being so patient. I hope to see you more regularly in the coming New Year, but if not, know that I'm okay and still kicking, but that my body's just kicking back for the time being.

Much love and best of wishes to you all for the New Year!

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

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

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

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

Pairing(s): Sevika/Reader.

Rating: M for some sensual themes and making out.

Word Count: 10.1k. Whoops.

You drive her to drink.

Speaking of… Sevika leans against the bar and snaps her fingers at Thieram. “Whisky, neat. Half a glass.” She narrows her eyes when he raises his eyebrows at her, then scoffs and goes back to staring across the room once he jumps to. Idiot.

She hadn’t expected much out of you after she first met you. Properly met you, that is. Technically, her first introduction to you had been in an underground fighting ring stocked by Stillwater’s hardier, more opportunistic patrons. You’d made quick work of the other prisoners, but Silco had wanted a proper evaluation before deciding whether or not to scoop you up, so in she’d gone. She’d socked you in the jaw, you’d suplexed her through a shitty wooden table. Good times.

She hasn’t had any complaints about you. You’re quiet, compliant. You don’t get drunk on the job, and you don’t start fights with the rest of the crew.

But that seems to be about it. You don’t really hang out with anyone else. You’ll talk to her every now and then, but otherwise you keep to yourself. You don’t play cards with the others, shoot pool, or share drinks. No swapping of stories, or exchanging inside jokes. From what she can tell, you keep to yourself like a hermit in an invisible cave.

Like a shadow, she reflects as you hang back in your usual spot (towards the back of the bar, tucked into darkness, where no one bothers you). If you’re not watching it, you forget it’s there.

She’d thought that was it. She’s seen plenty of people leave Stillwater and fall into violence, or inebriation, or withdrawn sullenness. She figured you were a tragic statistic –yet another to add to Zaun’s tally.

And then…

Her upper lips curls when Jinx comes bounding down the stairs. She tracks the blue-haired sprite across the bar, over to where you’re sitting, then scoffs when you greet Jinx with a small smile before glaring down at her glass.

It’s like watching a flower unfurl after weeks of frost. You smile and open up towards the sun of Jinx’s exuberance like you’ve been doing it your whole life, like there’s nothing more natural to you than beaming at Silco’s brat. And, sure, Jinx is a kid and she’s kind of cute, for a demented gremlin. But she’s still Jinx.

Sevika scowls down into her whiskey. Fucking psycho kid.

You’d called it kismet when she’d asked why you tolerate Silco’s batty brat. You’d lost your baby sister when you’d gone into prison, Jinx had lost Vi after the factory explosion, and then, years later, the universe had brought you two together and balanced everything back out, or fucking whatever.

She supposes it’s a decent arrangement. Jinx isn’t nearly as vicious and off kilter with you around, and you get all soft, and mushy, and happy, and pretty–

Sevika motions to Thieram to top her glass up again. Fuck me.

You’re protective of Jinx, too. Not that the brat can’t handle herself (Sevika has her new arm to prove that). But, she can still remember the night Finn’s gang had crowded into the Last Drop. They’d been obnoxious, and overbearing, and more than a little sloshed. Jacen, one of Finn’s “good buddies,” had slapped Jinx across the ass as a joke.

He’d done it in front of Silco. He was a dead man regardless.

Before anyone –even Jinx–could react, though, you’d lurched out of your chair, grabbed the sledgehammer you keep with you in lieu of a knife or a gun, and taken two long strides across the bar. “Jacen!”

Sevika’s core clenches at the memory. She lets out a harsh breath, then gulps down half her drink.

The crimson, glittering spray of blood through the air had been beautiful. Like gems cascading through the air. Jacen’s face had caved in on one side from where you drove the head of the hammer all but through it. He’d dropped to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

“Anyone else want to have a go?”

She’d gotten herself off to the thought of it that very night. The fury in your eyes, the decisive, powerful movements of your body, the splatter of blood. She’d climaxed harder than she had in a long time.

The whiskey burns her throat –expected and grounding.

She takes it without coughing or gasping. She’s been an expert for decades. Her jaw works as she finishes swallowing, and then she turns her head so she can watch you again.

You’re listening and nodding while Jinx rambles. There’s a certain attentiveness to your expression. Maybe it’s the angle of your eyebrows, or the soft, lax look of your jaw, or the brightness in your eyes. Whatever it is, it’s a total abandonment from both the harsh, dominating fury she’s seen from you, and the skittish, withdrawn apathy.

Something soft and needy aches beneath her ribs as she watches you with Jinx. Sevika grits her teeth and exhales with practiced languor. I’ve gone fucking soft.

Sevika doesn’t consider herself possessive. She visits the brothel far too regularly, and has more than a handful of casual “situationships” with different ladies around Zaun to be possessive. She’s not monogamous, at least. She doesn’t think of other people as property. The children of Zaun don’t have the luxury of such affluent detachment.

But she wants you. It’s like this thing that sits beneath her ribs and crawls around inside her. It’s restless, and writhing, and it gnaws on her bones like a feral dog in the dark corner of an alley. It keeps her up at night with racing thoughts, vivid hopes, and half-formed “what ifs.”

It also keeps her up at night because, more often than not, she winds up masturbating to the thought of you –like some starstruck, gods-damned teenager.

She’s not used to wanting –not for companionship, at least. She wants her freedom, wants her equality, wants Zaun to stand strong against those fucking Piltie pigs… but that’s about Zaun. There’s a certain degree of detachment there. It’s not about Sevika personally, the woman who is renowned at the Gardens, beats everyone’s ass in cards, and can drink any citizen of Zaun under the table. The woman who got blown up and survived, lost an arm and came back stronger, and practically rules the Undercity with a steel spine and a –literal–iron fist.

She doesn’t want for company. Any attention she wants, she can easily get. She doesn’t stay up half the night yearning for anyone, much less a… lover? Companion? Affection?

Sevika knocks back the rest of her drink, but the burning in her throat pales in comparison to the ache in her chest. Janna, kill me. Put me out of my fucking misery.

She wants you. She wants to get her hands on you, get you underneath her (or on top of her, she’s not picky), and crack you open. She wants to drink you down, watch all that rage and goodness and steeliness and softness pour out. She wants to find its source and let it all wash over her. She wants it –needs it–for herself.

She wants it to be hers, even in part. She wants to bask in everything you keep held back by your silent, stoic mask.

There’s a headache forming behind her left eye. Probably from clenching her teeth; ever since the scars on her face crystalized, the muscles on the left side of her jaw have been more sensitive to strain.

She’s not used to this –this, this insipid, endless pining. It’s been going on for months now, and she’s just about ready to put a fork in her eye just to make it fucking end.

She barks at Thieram to get her another glass. Drink until you feel nothing. Zaun’s oldest remedy. She leans heavily against the bartop, then groans beneath her breath. Might as well buy the whole bottle. Against good sense, she resumes watching you. Warmth spreads through her chest when you grin at Jinx, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“Y’know, somehow, I don’t think she’s going to figure out you like her just from you staring at her like a creep through a window.”

Sevika tenses, then glares at Ran as they sit down on the barstool next to hers. She picks up her refilled glass with her left hand and lifts it to her lips. “Fuck off. Nobody asked you.”

Ran stays where they are –a credit to their courage, at least. They smirk, then glance across the bar, to where you’re sitting, before returning their knowing, smug gaze to Sevika. “It’d be easier if you talked to her.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’m just trying to save you the eyestrain.” They grin, thin and sharp, when Sevika flips them off, then lean against the wooden countertop. “Seriously, though. Why not ask her out?”

Sevika scowls and focuses on her whiskey glass, which is suddenly very interesting. “S’not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Sevika nearly kicks them off the stool and onto the floor (just for starters), but when she catches a look at Ran’s face and realizes they’re not teasing, she sighs and scrubs her face with her right hand. “I… I don’t know what she’d say.”

“Since when is that a problem for you?” Ran asks, face twisting with equal parts mirth and disbelief. When Sevika rolls her eyes, they shove her shoulder lightly. “It’s not like you ever have to work for it.” They pause, then smirk devilishly. “Maybe it’s weakened your game. Is that it?”

Sevika glares at them, then kicks Ran in the shin when they start snickering. “I’m gonna smother you in your sleep. And for your information, you giggling bastard, that’s not the problem.” When Ran swallows their smile and motions for her to continue (while rubbing at their shin), she huffs. “I –I don’t know if she likes women.”

Ran’s visible eyebrow arches. “You’ve seen her.”

“...Duh.”

“She likes women.” When Sevika grimaces, Ran narrows their eyes. “You think otherwise?”

“I don’t think she likes anybody,” Sevika admits; doing so is somehow both a relief and condemning all in one. “You’ve seen her around people. She’s not exactly interested.”

“Not everyone likes a girl in their lap the way you do.”

“That’s not the point,” Sevika snarls under her breath as she rolls her eyes.

“Then what is?”

It’s not easy to articulate. Sure, it’s an unspoken, universally acknowledged truth in Zaun, but that doesn’t mean anyone ever says it.

People go into Stillwater, and they come out –if they come out at all–different. Broken. You spent most of your life in that shithole –spent most of your teenage years there–at the anti-mercy of the wardens and other prisoners. It only stands to reason that any part of you inclined towards a relationship –or sex, or human contact–got snuffed out by the need to survive.

She feels bad for you, sometimes. Only when it’s too quiet, and she doesn’t have anything to do, and she’s not drunk and-or high enough to keep her thoughts from wandering to the dark, traitorously soft corners of her mind. She can almost see the child you started as –fiery, but so soft and good and kind–and it all got stomped out by the assholes ruling above them.

Sevika forces herself to loosen her death grip on the glass. Breaking it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she hates picking shards out of the grooves of her mechanical fingers. “You haven’t seen her around Silver. She touched her shoulder–” she nods at you subtly “–without warning. I thought she was gonna break Silver’s fingers.”

“That’s Silver,” Ran says with a derisive curl of their upper lip. “She wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘boundaries’ if it rammed itself up her ass.”

They’re not wrong; the young woman’s brazen attitude is one of the things Sevika likes about Silver –albeit in small doses.

“She doesn’t talk to anyone,” Sevika murmurs, pathetic by her own standards. She’s worn down enough, though, to speak plainly. “She doesn’t go to any of the brothels, or take anyone home –and, yes, I’ve asked. She hates being touched, or being near anyone.” She presses her lips together to keep a pitiful smile back –she’d never forgive herself–then downs more whiskey. The burn of the liquor grounds her, brings her back to normalcy. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

Ran nods minutely, mulling the evidence over. They watch you for a minute, hawkish in their scrutiny. “She sits with Jinx.”

“Jinx,” Sevika grits out (both because it’s Jinx, and because of the implication of Ran’s observation), “is a kid.”

“She is,” they agree, unfazed. “But, clearly, she’s not entirely opposed to all human contact.”

Like I don’t fucking know that. Sevika clenches her teeth together to keep from snapping. She’s observed the same damn thing, and it’s what keeps that whining, consuming, itching ember of hope burning in her chest.

Ran watches Sevika for a moment, then continues when she doesn’t say anything. “She sits with you.”

“That’s different,” Sevika says on reflex.

“I don’t think it is,” they press. “She never sits with anyone else. It’s either on her own, with Jinx, if she’s here, or with you.”

“I–”

“It’s not like she’s in it for playing cards,” Ran continues, staring Sevika down when she tries to argue. “And she doesn’t drink much, either.” They prop one elbow against the bartop. “Frankly, if you’re not here, then she isn’t. She only bothers hanging around if you’re here.”

“That’s–”

“She talks to you a lot, too,” Ran drawls, tone both teasing and reflective. “The rest of us are lucky to get a word or two from her, but she’ll talk the whole night with you.”

“I’m–”

“She lets you touch her, too. I’ve even seen her touch your shoulder in return.”

“If you interrupt me again–”

“Quit moping,” Ran says, voice flat and final. “Ask her out, or get over it.”

There’s a lot she could say to that. First of all, no one accuses her of moping. But she tucks it away for later; she doesn’t want to start kicking Ran’s ass in front of everyone, because that means the trigger point for said ass kicking will inevitably become common knowledge. Her feelings are nobody’s business but hers. Second of all, no one but Silco tells her what to do, and that’s only for work. She is the only damn master of her personal life, thank you very fucking much. Third, she knows for a fact that Ran spent nearly two years pining for one of Silco’s assassins, so they’ve got zero room to talk shit.

Sevika downs the rest of her drink, then motions for a third refill. “She’s not interested.”

Ran stares at her for a moment. Then, they scoff and shake their head. “You’re an idiot.”

Sevika glares harshly at them–

The door to Silco’s office creaks open, then thumps shut, followed by the man himself quietly descending the staircase to the bar floor. “Jinx.” He finishes buttoning his trench coat shut. “Pack up your things. We’re going home.”

“What?” Jinx’s face screws into the picture of teenage consternation. The baby fat on her cheeks makes her look younger still. “But–”

“It’s alright.” You quickly and neatly arrange her blueprints and drawings into a single stack, then hand them to the blue-haired youngster. “We can talk later, okay?”

Envy curls in Sevika’s gut when Jinx hugs you and you reciprocate with one arm. She turns away and hides her scowl behind her glass. Fucking brat.

Silco addresses the rest of his crew, “I trust that you’re all competent enough to avoid burning the place to the ground?” He arches his good eyebrow, then smirks when a mix of serious answers and half-drunk jokes rise up from the crowd. “Good enough.” He turns to face Sevika and tosses her a key. “You decide when the bar closes.”

She catches the key with her right hand, then flips Petrichor off with her left when they start grumbling under their breath about Sevika being in charge. She raises her glass to Silco in lieu of a spoken fair well, then knocks the rest of it back when he leaves out the rear with Jinx in tow. “Fucking finally. Theo! Put something good on for a change.”

“Are you having another?”

Sevika looks down as Silver –one of Silco’s personal spies–materializes at her side. She eyes the younger woman –her tight dress, high ponytail, and alluring make up–then looks away. Not with you. “Probably not. Best to take it easy.”

“Since when?” Ran mutters under their breath.

Sevika subtly kicks their stool, then looks down when Silver situates herself between her legs.

“You sure?” Silver pouts –which does stir something in Sevika, given Silver’s plush lips and deep-colored lipstick, but it’s not the something that she wants tonight. Silver bats her eyelashes a little, then smiles coyly. “Could be fun.”

Sevika bites back a scowl; she doesn’t want to put Silver off permanently –not yet, anyway. She wracks her brain for some sort of believable excuse that even Silver would accept–

As fortune would have it, one falls into her lap.

“–pretty sure I hit three-fifty yesterday–”

A collective chorus of groans alerts Sevika to the newest problem –chiefly, that Arik is bragging about his “gym gains.” Again.

Nevermind that she could break him over her knee like a fucking twig.

“It’s taken a lot of dedication and hard work.” Arik stretches and flexes, preening while everyone else rolls their eyes. “I don’t want to brag, but I’m probably the strongest member in the crew.”

Sevika arches one eyebrow in judgment; it’s ludicrous, considering that he’s ignoring her, the bouncers, Leon and Boris, and Lock, Silco’s mountainous, tattooed henchman that works security at the Shimmer plants. Why do we even put up with you?

Theo barks out a laugh. “Fat fucking chance, dickwad. No way in hell you’re the strongest person here. Pretty sure Miss Silver could knock you on your ass.”

“I’d take that bet,” Silver chimes in, twirling a lock of her straight, powder purple hair around her finger.

Arik pouts, looking like a spoiled teenager. “Oh, yeah? Who’s strongest, then? You?”

“No.” Theo shakes his head. “I don’t have delusions of grandeur like you. Nah, it’s probably…” He looks around the bar, eyeing the bouncers, then Sevika, before twisting in his seat so he can see the back of the bar. “Actually, it’s probably Mouse, here.”

It takes you a moment to register the nickname foisted upon you by the rest of the crew. You lift your head, blink a few times, then straighten up. “What?”

“Cuntface here–” Theo jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Arik, who sputters and wheezes like a dying engine “–thinks he’s the strongest person in the crew. I wagered that title would probably go to you.”

“Oh.” You look around at everyone, then nod. “Okay.”

Arik huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s –there’s no way to prove that! Size isn’t everything!”

Sevika bites back a smirk as every single woman in the bar glances at each other and rolls their eyes.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Theo sneers at Arik. “Look at her, and look at you. It’s not going to be much of a competition.”

“You can’t prove that!” Arik insists, expression petulant.

Theo swivels in his seat to face you again. “Can you knock him out to shut him the fuck up?”

“No one’s doing that,” Sevika pipes up when everyone starts chattering and laughing excitedly. When people start grousing, she levels the room with a hard, final glare. “We’re not paying to get blood out of the floorboards. Again. If you all want to be idiots and knock the shit out of each other, you do it on your own time and floors, where I don’t have to clean up after your fucking mess.”

There’s a lull, and for a moment it seems like that’ll be it–

Silver perks up. “What about arm wrestling?”

“Hey,” Ran drawls, eyes lighting up. “That could work.”

“Anything to get this moron to shut the fuck up,” Theo grumbles.

Arik pouts, but says nothing.

When she realizes everyone is looking for her –presumably for permission, not that anyone’s ever bothered asking before–Sevika waves one hand dismissively. “Knock yourselves out.”

You watch as a table is cleared and Theo all but shoves Arik into a chair. When everyone looks expectantly at you, you shoot a wide-eyed, somewhat panicked glance her way.

Sevika offers you a half smile, then shrugs as if to say ‘it’s your choice.’

You shrug back, then sigh before standing. You stride over to the awaiting table and sit opposite a very grumpy, red-faced Arik.

Sevika shifts on her stool so she has a better view. Heat unfurls in her core as you prop one elbow against the table. She watches the way the thick muscles in your arm and forearm ripple with each movement. Damn.

Arik shifts in his seat. His eyelid twitches as he eyes your arm and hand. “I– I don’t know–”

“Take her fucking hand,” Theo growls.

Arik swallows hard, then props his elbow on the table and takes hold of your hand.

“On go,” Ran declares –they’ve left the bar and now stand beside the table. “Three… two… one… go!”

It’s not even a competition. If anything, it’s almost pathetic.

Arik tenses his arm –then squeaks when you push his hand down so fast he nearly falls out of his chair. The back of his hand hits the wooden surface of the table with a dull thonk. He lets out an angry snarl, yanks his hand away, then lurches to his feet and storms off with such force that his chair topples to the floor.

Everyone else cheers and claps as the front door of The Last Drop slams shut behind Arik.

“Fucking finally,” Theo mutters before running one hand through his curly hair. He looks at you and smiles appreciatively. “Thanks for shutting him up. Want a drink?”

You lean back and away. “I –I’m good, thanks.”

“That wasn’t even a challenge, though!” Silver pipes up, pouting.

“We already knew it wouldn’t be,” Theo fires back drily.

“But,” Ran interjects with a wry edge to their voice, “if we’re really trying to figure out who’s strongest…” 

Sevika presses her lips into a thin line when they turn and look directly at her. Don’t you fucking dare.

“Do you think you could beat Sev?”

Traitor.

You look at her, then lean back in your seat and grin. “Oh, yeah. Easy.”

Sevika feels her brows rise up, and she grins back despite being annoyed with Ran literal seconds ago. “Really? That’s the stance you want to take?”

“I mean…” You shrug and smirk. “It’s the truth.” You raise one eyebrow as buzzed laughter and inebriated runs through the gang. “What, you're too scared to test it?”

Them’s fighting words. Sevika cocks her head to the side, smirks right back, then shoves off her barstool and stalks over to the table.

Your eyes light up as she sits down across from you. You lean forward, prop one elbow on the tabletop, and grin. “It’s nothing personal, Sev.”

The crooked angle of your grin makes her heart flutter in a delightful, squirmy manner. She swallows hard, forces down the childish feelings of elation, and props one elbow on the table without dropping your gaze. She smirks, and revels in the way your eyes dance in the bar lighting. “Nothing personal, sweetheart,” she fires back, making sure her voice comes out lower and huskier.

Your grin broadens. You clasp her hand and squeeze tight while Theo counts down…

“Three, two, one–”

Oh shit.

It’s like shoving against a wall. Granted, Sevika’s shoved, kicked, and punched a number of walls in her day. She’s left her mark –even broken a few–on nearly all of them. She likes to think that she’s a reasonably strong, generally indestructible motherfucker.

You watch her for a few moments, expression placid –save for the smug, wicked, coy, sexy smirk on your lips. You let her try for a little longer, then inhale sharply and blink rapidly. “Wait, did we start already?”

“Fuck you,” Sevika grits out without any real malice.

You grin, showing a brilliant, alluring flash of teeth –and then you push.

“Shit.” Sevika strains against your arm.

To her credit, she feels your own arm waver slightly; to your credit, you brace your muscles, and it’s like pushing against a wall again.

She grits her teeth and tries to up the ante again. She curses when it doesn’t work, then grunts when you push her arm down another fraction of an inch.

“You okay, baby?” You grin when everyone else laughs (it’s a mix of delight and shock). “It’s okay if you need to tap.”

She grins back. Right now, she doesn’t care if she loses. Frankly, if you keep flirting with her like this, she’s the real winner in this scenario. “Keep it up, baby. We’ll see who taps.”

It’s a lost cause. You take your sweet time, push her hand down smooth and slow, and talk a lot of smack all the while.

She’s got less than an inch between the table top and the back of her right hand, now. You’re not even actively pushing, more just keeping her pinned at that point. She grunts, then laughs when your arm doesn’t budge. “Come on, you cunt. Just fucking finish it!”

You laugh in return and wink. “You’re getting tired in your old age, Sev.”

She grins. “Say that again and we’ll take this out back, bitch.”

You wink –then shove the back of her hand down against the table.

The crowd clustered around the table breaks into cheers.

Sevika can’t find it in herself to give a shit. Yeah, she lost, people are teasing her for it, whatever. She’ll kick their asses later, if she feels like it. Right now, you’re laughing, and smiling at her, and she technically got to hold your hand. That’s all she really cares about.

“What about the other one?”

Sevika blinks a few times, then frowns, confused. She looks up at Theo. “Huh?”

“Her other arm.” He’s talking to you, but he turns and gestures to her mech arm. “What about that one?”

“Uh…” Trepidation flashes across your face as you eye her prosthetic. You cringe and lean back in your chair. “I doubt it.”

It’s fair; her mech arm is reinforced, has motors that work the joints the way her muscles used to, and it’s heavy as shit. She’s crushed bones with her mechanical hand, just by clenching her hand into a fist.

But, still. In for a penny, stupid ways of flirting –all that shit.

She props her metal elbow on the table, resulting in a muted thud.

The table quakes beneath the weight of her arm.

She grins in a way that she hopes is taunting and enticing. She holds up her left hand and waggles her fingers. “You scared, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flash. You run your tongue along the inside of your lower lip. You brace your forearms against the table as you eye her metal hand. You hesitate, pressing your lips together, then say, “Just don’t crush my hand.”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. She’s not out for revenge.

Your shoulders relax. You cock your head from side to side, stretching your neck, then put your left elbow on the table and clasp her mechanical hand. “Bring it on. Sweetheart.”

It’s a more even match; she’d certainly hope so, given the fucking mechanical arm.

There’s a vein popping out on the side of your neck. Your face is pinched, expression one of intense focus and strain. The muscles in your arm and forearm stand out in full, glorious relief, defined and rippling as you fight against the force of her arm.

Her arm isn’t shaking this time, at least; such are the merits of steel reinforcement bars. But she’s not moving your hand, either. Sevika growls. The motors in her arm whir as she pushes harder.

You grunt and shove back. You bare your teeth. Your gaze is locked on where your two hands are joined. Your hands trembles from the sheer force of your exertion–

And then her hand lowers an inch.

Everyone else gasps. Exclamations and expletives roll through the bar.

“Fifty gold pieces says Mouse does it,” Theo says. 

“Bullshit,” Ran fires back. “She’ll get tired, first.”

Kharim pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil. “That’s fifty on Mouse, so far. Do I hear one hundred?”

“I’ll put twenty on Sev,” Silver says with a sweet smile.

“Really?” Sevika grunts as she pushes harder against your hand. “Only twenty?”

You let out a breathless, strained laugh –then push her hand down further.

“Who’s got another fifty on Mouse?” Kharim asks.

Too late, she realizes her prosthetic arm is actually working against her, in this situation. She has to work against the weight of the mech arm –which you can use to your advantage, naturally. The built in mechanical safeties are hosing her, too. Her arm is designed such that, at certain angles or certain levels of exertion, the gears and motors will give to whatever she’s working against. It prevents damage to the internal mechanisms and bending the internal support structures. It’s invaluable for the longevity of her prosthetic, but it also means she can’t mindlessly strain against your hand like she could with her right arm. Her only hope is that her left arm can outmatch yours in raw strength.

Normally, she’d go all in on that bet. Normally –unless her opponent was doped to the gills on Shimmer–there wouldn’t even be enough force in the picture for the failsafes to override the locking mechanisms.

You growl, teeth bared in a glorious snarl, and shove her metal hand lower.

She can’t even find it in herself to be mad. One, she’s not some mealy-mouthed bitch who needs to be the strongest person in the room at all times; she, unlike some people (Arik), is confident in herself and her abilities. Two, it’s frankly impressive. It’s an unrepentant display of raw strength, and she’s not above respecting it. Three…

It’s hot.

She’s torn between focusing on resisting you and watching the muscles in your arm flex. Her mild buzz isn’t helping, either. In hindsight, should’ve stopped with the second glass. It’s taking far too much focus not to just gawk, to grin and simper like an idiot, and she likes to think she still has her pride –which is also why she’s not just giving up. After all, she has her pride. Sevika growls when you force her hand lower, then doubles down and pushes back. Maybe not for much longer, with how this is going. Fuck.

You grit your teeth. There’s sweat glistening along your hairline (which might be her only other saving grace, since her mech arm can’t get tired). You snarl, then grip her hand tighter.

Sevika swears when her arm suddenly jerks downward. She nearly topples out of her chair, saved only by managing to plant her feet beneath the table. She catches herself, blinks–

It’s over.

You shove her metal knuckles against the table with a thud –hard enough that the wood dents inward where her steel knuckle guard hits the surface.

The crowd goes nuts, loses their minds, whatever. If she’s being honest, she’s really not paying attention to it. A distant fragment of her brain registers the squaring of bets, exchanging of coin, but–

You’re still holding her hand.

A larger, deeply buried part of her is furious that she doesn’t have better sensory input on her left hand. She can detect pressure and temperature, rudimentary shit, but she can’t feel the calluses on your palm, or the precise texture of your skin. She can’t really gauge how thick your hand is in hers.

You’re still panting, somewhat dazed as you stare down at your joined hands. Slowly, your eyes trace up the line of her mech arm, up to her face, where you take in her stunned expression. You swallow, quick, then grin.

You’re breathing hard. Your skin glistens faintly with warmth. Your hair looks tousled, slightly sweat trapped. And your grin practically glows.

It’s the closest she’s ever been to seeing what you look like after sex. Sevika can feel her mind filing every single detail of how you look away for future masturbatory reference. She grins back, slow and a bit dazzled. “Shit.”

You let out a soft, quiet laugh. You drop her gaze for a moment, but when you look back up your eyes shine unabated joy.

You’re not looking away. You’re not pulling away. You’re not letting go of her hand.

Do it, a voice that sounds irritatingly like Ran’s whispers in her mind. Do it, you fucking coward. Sevika licks her lips, then leans forward, hoping that she comes across as conspiratorial and collected. “I–”

“Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sev.”

The sudden intrusion feels more like an assault. Fake, sweet perfume cloys at her nose. There’s arms around her neck, and unwanted weight in her lap.

Silver’s face looms into view. She peers down through her lashes, lips posed in a perfect, alluring pout. “It’s not–”

Whatever else Silver says goes in one ear and out the other. She’s looking over the smaller woman’s shoulder, instead.

You pull your hand back across the table. Your smile slips away, and your shoulders bunch up ever so slightly. Back to the usual mask of the careful, quiet mouse.

Godsdammit. Sevika shoves Silver out of her lap and stands with a snarl. “Fuck off.” She stomps away and up the stairs, to where Silco’s office and a few private rooms are. “Everyone, out! Tonight’s done!” She ignores the groans and jeers following her, storms into Silco’s office, and slams the door shut behind her so hard that it rattles in its setting.

Silco’s office is mercifully dark. Quiet.

Sevika collapses onto the quilted velvet couch tucked into the corner of the office. She drops her head into her hands and scrubs at her face. Janna’s left fucking tit, that was a disaster. She sits up, only to slump against the couch like a dejected teenager. This is never going to work out.

If she was anyone else, she might cry –out of sheer frustration, if nothing else. Since she’s not anyone else, she helps herself to a cigar from Silco’s stash.

She only gets as far as rummaging through his desk for the cutter. (Jinx must have absconded with it. Again.) Something in her hindbrain makes her go still; an old, well-tested instinct that says ‘something isn’t right.’

Sevika freezes. Her eyes scan the darkness for any signs of intruders, or one of Jinx’s traps. She strains her ears; aside from the faint, scuttling noises of stray pests, it’s silent.

Too silent.

There should be more talk coming from downstairs; she hadn’t really expected everyone to listen to her when she ordered them all to clear out. There should be music playing, people arguing, clacks from the balls on the pool table. At the very least, there should be complaining and the noises of a final clear down.

She’d half-expected Silver to follow her upstairs. Or maybe Ran, at least. But there’s no sounds of someone climbing upstairs, or Silver’s high-pitched voices, or even creaking floorboards in the hall outside.

Sevika pulls out a knife she keeps tucked in a sheath hidden behind the waistband of her pants. She creeps forward, deadly silent, until she reaches the door of Silco’s office. She gingerly places her right hand on the doorknob, until it’s completely encapsulated by her grip, then slowly turns the handle. Once the latch is fully retracted, she tucks herself behind the door and inches it open. She waits for a beat, then another, then peers around the corner.

The bar is empty.

Now that the door’s open, she can hear the sounds of someone rummaging around the main bar floor. There’s no conversation, though; it’s too quiet to be the usual crew, for another matter.

Sevika stalks down the hall. She quietly, efficiently clears each room before she passes it, until she reaches the end of the outer wall, where the balcony begins. She tucks herself into the shadows, then peers around the corner.

You’re down on the bar floor, putting the remaining chairs up on the tables.

Sevika watches you for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded. Where the fuck is everyone else? She blinks, until her brain finally processes that The Last Drop has not been broken into by assassins or other hooligans, then steps around the corner and into the full light of the bar. She taps the railing of the balcony with her metal hand to alert you to her presence. When you look up, she gestures around aimlessly. “Where’d they go?”

You look around, then back up at her and shrug with one shoulder. “You said to get out.”

“Doesn’t mean they’d actually listen.”

Your gaze cuts away from hers. You duck your head, then go back to putting up the chairs. “Might’ve pushed ‘em. Enforced the order.” You give a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you wanted ‘em gone.”

Sevika grunts and nods. Fair enough. At least, now, she doesn’t have to deal with Silver lingering around. For lack of knowing what else to do, she watches you as you continue tidying things up for the night. “We don’t pay you to do that.”

You shrug; your back’s to her, now, as you work your way around a circular table. “Doesn’t really matter. Thieram deserves a night off, every now and then.”

There’s not much point in loitering on the balcony and staring at you like a mooning idiot. She strides across the length of the balcony, tromps down the stairs, then crosses the distance to the table you’re working in three strong steps. She grabs one of the remaining chairs, flips it upside down with ease, then hooks the seat of the chair on the table top.

You go still for a moment. You watch her, gaze following her every movement, until you relax again and resume working. “‘M sorry ‘bout earlier.”

She nearly trips over the chair she’s picking up. Sevika stalls, blinks, then sets the chair back on the floor and levels you with an incredulous, confused stare. “What?”

“For kicking your ass.” The corner of your mouth briefly ticks up in a self-satisfied smirk, but it washes away to true contrition. “Wasn’t trying to humiliate you ‘n front of everyone.”

“I–” She pinches the bridge of her nose. Can’t imagine where that narrative came from. “I’m not. You didn’t.” She hangs the chair from the table, then scoffs, indignant. “Fuck’s sake, I’m not Arik.”

You smirk, but stay still as you watch her for a few moments. “You were mad about something.”

“I was mad at Silver,” Sevika grouses, careful to avoid making eye contact. And her lousy sense of timing.

You let her get the last few chairs, opting instead to grab a tray and collect stray glasses and empty beer bottles. “You two okay?”

She snorts. “We’re not involved enough to be ‘okay’ or otherwise. We’ve fucked before. End of story.”

“...Did she do something to you?”

The tight, lethal quietness in your voice gets her attention. She straightens up, meets your gaze, and shakes her head. “No. She just gets on my nerves now and then, s’all.”

You grunt, understanding, then add a couple more glasses to your tray before carrying the lot over to the bar.

Sevika grabs a couple stray, half-empty bottles of whiskey, tequila, and vodka, then follows partially in your wake. She stops at the bar counter, watching as you round the end so you can dispose of the beer bottles and set the used glasses in the sink. She sets the half-consumed bottles on the counter, then leans against the neon light-edged lip while she watches you. “Gotta say, it was pretty impressive.” She smirks when you half-turn, brows lightly drawn together, then waggles her metal fingers. “Figured I’d have you licked.”

You snort, then shake your head. “Might’ve.” You set the last of the glasses in the sink, then drop the beer bottles in the recycling can. “Probably would’ve if we’d gone longer. You’d have me beat on stamina.”

She can’t stop her automatic, teasing, too sultry for its own good reply. “Oh, I doubt that.”

You do a quick double take.You stare at her over your shoulders, eyes the size of dinner plates. Then, your lips press together before quirking upwards in a shy smile. You laugh softly. “Yeah, well, your mechanics would’ve won, in the end.” You toss the last of the bottles into the recycling can, then turn and step to the bar. “Figured it was just best to–” you draw your fingers across your neck in a quick slash and click your tongue “–cut things quick, override the locking mechanisms.”

“Smart,” Sevika purrs.

You lick your lips, then grin. You eye her for a moment, shifting from foot to foot –then, you grab the remaining bottles and crouch so you can stow them beneath the bar counter. “Course, helps that you’re shit at arm wrestling, too.”

“Excuse me?” she laughs, caught off guard and bemused. “Run that by me again?”

“You’re shit at arm wrestling.” You chuckle as you stand. “Your form’s terrible. Makes you easy to beat, even if I wasn’t stronger than you.”

She grins wide, exhilarated. Fighting words. “Oh, is that how it is?”

You plant your palms against the bartop. “‘S how it seems to me.” You smirk –which grows into a smile as she looks you over–then prop your right arm against the counter. “I could show you a couple tricks. Improve your odds a bit.”

She takes the bait like the happiest, dumbest fish that ever lived and sets her right elbow atop the counter. “Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”

“Right off the bat–” You reach forward and adjust the angle of her arm. “‘S really not about raw power. I mean, it helps, but angles are a lot more important.” Your hands slide along the length of her arm, adjusting things until you’re satisfied with how she’s positioned. You nod to yourself, then move to her wrist. You hold her right hand with both of yours. “Gotta think about how you’re holding your hand, too. Too many people wind up pushing with their forearms. Means that they got their hands at the wrong angle, most of the time. You want to be pushing with your upper arm and shoulder.”

“Whatever you say, coach,” she drawls, layering on the sarcasm to –hopefully–hide how breathless she is.

You snort, then lower your left hand and grip her right hand with yours –assume the position. “Alright. Try now.”

She does –not with as much vigor as she used in the initial match, but she still puts decent effort into it. Her eyebrows spike high when she feels less strain than earlier. “Shit.”

You flash her a lopsided grin. “See? Knowing what you’re doing helps.”

“Bite me.”

You fake a grimace. “Not until you shower first. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“You implying something?”

“I’ve seen how many people you can beat up in a week, Sev.”

She chuckles, then shrugs in concession. “Fair enough.” She grips your hand tighter and smirks wickedly before shoving against your hand, hard. “Hope you’re ready to join the list–”

You grunt –then brace against her onslaught and force her hand the other way.

“Shit!” Sevika strains against your hand, but it’s veritably useless as you slowly push her hand downward (at least you have to work harder for it, this time). “Son of a bitch –motherfucker!”

“Still stronger than you,” you fire back as you finally pin the back of her hand against the bartop. You smile, impish and sweet. “But that was a good try.” You grin when she glowers at you, then toss your head back and laugh when she flips you off with her left hand.

She can’t think of a retort; the wrestling tugged your shirt off kilter, and your laugh exposed something new –fresh, smooth ink along the side of your neck, previously hidden by your collar. She stares, tracing the way the tendrils of the flowers curve around your neck and down your clavicle before disappearing under your shirt. “That’s new.”

You look down at her, blinking rapidly, then crane your neck to look down when she gestures loosely at your chest. “Oh. Yeah.” You shrug with the opposite shoulder. “Wanted to do something for myself. Cover up some of the shit I got inside.” You hesitate, then swallow hard and ask. “Do –do you wanna see the rest of it?”

“Sure.” The meaning of your offer doesn’t really hit until you let go of her hand so you can start unbuttoning your top. Sevika locks her knees to keep from toppling over as all the blood rushes Southward from her head. Janna, help me.

Mercifully, you only undo the top three buttons on your shirt. Unmercifully, that gives you enough leeway to push the right side of your shirt down over your shoulder, revealing more of your chest and your neck.

Oh, and the tattoo.

It’s pretty. It’s a good piece, too, done by someone who knew what they were doing. The design is a dense cluster of flowers that fans up the side of your neck and down over your collarbone.

“That’s real pretty,” Sevika ekes out, voice gone to gravel. She reaches up to touch it, but catches herself before her hand leaves the bar. Don’t startle her. “Do you mind?”

It takes you a moment, but you look down when she gestures with her flesh hand. “Oh.” You let out a soft, trembling breath. Your throat flexes as you swallow. “Yeah –go for it.”

Everything that follows feels like a dream. The world seems to take on a warm, golden hue that overpowers the glaring neon lights and the dark shadow of night outside. It feels like she’s moving through molasses, achingly slow as she lifts her hand towards your neck.

Your skin is unbelievably soft beneath her fingertips. The lines of ink stretch slightly as she traces down your neck and over your shoulder.

“This okay?” Sevika murmurs.

“Yeah.”

Something about your heavy, trembling exhale makes her look up.

You’re staring down at her with wide, dark eyes. Your lips are parted, and you’re practically panting despite standing still.

But you’re not pulling away. You’re not shaking. If anything, you’re practically melting beneath her hand. And your gaze is locked on her face –practically zeroed in on her mouth…

Oh.

She owes Ran a drink. Or another kick in the shin. Maybe both.

This, however, is at least more familiar territory –so long as she plays her cards right.

Various options flit through her mind, but they all desiccate before they reach her tongue. She quickly finds herself locking up instead as she tries to figure out what the fuck to say. Shitshitshitshitshit–

(She’s never been more grateful that you kicked everyone out. Ran would never let her live this down.)

“Ask her out, or get over it.”

Sevika swallows hard. Go big or go home. Not like the world’s gonna end if she says ‘no.’ She clears her throat. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re really fucking attractive?”

“I–” Your eyes go wide as you sputter. Your gaze flicks between her eyes and her mouth. “Not –no. Not really.”

“Shame,” Sevika drawls. She traces her thumb down the stem of one of the flowers inked into your neck, then looks back up at you. “You’d think they’d have eyes. I’ve noticed since the first time we met.”

You snort, equanimity somewhat restored. “What, in an illegal prison fight club soaked in the blood of others?”

She smirks and winks at you. “You made it work.”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth as you smile. You duck your head bashfully, then brace your forearms against the countertop –which puts you closer to her height. “I hope you won’t be offended if I say that I didn’t notice you ‘like that’ from the start.”

Her gut drops. “Oh?”

You shake your head, gaze still glued on the countertop. “I was, uh, a little concerned with surviving –making sure you didn’t knock my teeth out with your metal fist, that sort of thing.” You let out a little laugh, then look at her. “But I noticed later.”

Warmth blooms in her chest and abdomen. She grins, soft and slow. “Really?” Her grin grows when you smile shyly and nod. “Well, shit. Lucky me.” She strokes her thumb along your tattoo again; satisfaction curls in her stomach when you shiver.

“I–” You lick your lips and look at her eyes, then her lips, then back up, then back down again, then back up again. “I don’t…” Your gaze locks onto her lips when she smirks; your pupils blow wide, and you let out a ragged, heavy breath. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Heady elation blooms in her chest and quickly spreads through her body. “That,” she murmurs as she slides her fingers beneath your chin and leans in, “sounds great to me.”

Your lips are soft against hers. Hesitant. You freeze, scarcely even breathing.

But you’re not pulling away –or panicking–so she decides to stay the course. She presses her lips a bit more firmly against yours, then smirks when you let out a quiet moan and angle your head towards hers. There we go. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss and pulls back incrementally to assess your interest level.

You’re trembling. There’s a faint glow of sweat on your forehead. Your breaths come ragged and fast, chest rising and falling heavily. Your eyelids are half-lidded, pupils blown so wide that your eyes nearly look black.

Before she can do anything, you lean in and kiss her again; this time, it’s her turn to moan against your mouth.

It’s clumsy. It’s easy to tell that you don’t have much –if any–experience in this department. But your unabashed eagerness more than makes up for lacking finesse.

Sevika gently grasps your jaw with her right hand, guiding you through the series of kisses that follow. She carefully angles your head as she pleases, and pulls back intermittently to both catch her breath and see what you’ll do. When you keep following her lead, she decides to nip at your lower lip –just to see if it’ll draw you out of your shell more.

You let out a throaty growl when her teeth graze your lower lip –and then you pull away.

A mix of disappointment and fear flash through her stomach –but it all drains away when you vault over the counter and land next to her. She smirks as you crowd into her space, but frown when genuine trepidation settles over your face. “What?”

Your brows pinch together. “I–” You clear your throat when your voice cracks. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

Oh. That’s all. She smiles, lax and confident, then places her hands on your broad shoulders. “Touch me, sweetheart.”

“Where?”

She slides her hands down your chiseled arms, then takes your hands and places them on her hips. “Anywhere.”

You’re too still at first –nerves driven by inexperience. But you loosen up when she nips at your lower lip again. You draw in a guttural breath, then squeeze her hips tighter when she curls her fingers into your waist. You press closer to her when she slides her tongue against yours. When she slides her right hand up the back of your neck and tugs at the soft hair at your nape, you growl, then slide your hands around her ass and squeeze.

Finally. Sevika moans softly and arches against you. She wraps her right arm around the back of your neck, so she can keep you close, and rests her left hand on your hip. She plunders your mouth with her tongue, then moans again when you grope her ass more firmly. She hooks one metal finger through one of the belt loops on your pants and tugs you closer –then gasps when you shove against the bar.

You crowd against her, kissing her fiercely, eagerly. Your hands cup her ass and lift, forcing her onto the balls of her feet so you have better access to her.

Surprise flits up her spine. She’s not used to being in this position; most women come to her to be manhandled, not the other way around. But she can see the appeal of it; there’s a certain giddiness in the gut that accompanies it, like the hang time from jumping across rooftops.

The kiss devolves into something artless and hungry. The two of you meet each other in the middle, pressed against each other like teenagers in a closet.

She’s starting to get into that state where she feels like she’s melting into you, and vice versa. The bar, the faint drone of passersby always present in the Lanes, the buzz of the neon lights that wrap around the bartop, the arm wrestling match less than an hour ago –all of it’s gone, blurred into background coloration like splotches on one of those fancy, impression-type paintings, for which Pilties drop the equivalent of a Trencher’s life earnings (and then some). There’s that familiar, ravenous ache in her cunt. She ought to ask you back to her place; The Last Drop hardly seems poignant enough for your first time. But the notion of stopping your eager exploration of her body is downright offensive –especially when your open mouth catches her jaw and sends arousal curling through her gut.

You pause when she tips her head back. A few ragged pants fan across the sensitized, blood-hot skin of her neck. You swallow, then clear your throat. “I –is this–”

“Yes.” She curls her right hand around the back of your neck, then gently presses your forward until you lean the rest of the way in and press your lips against her throat. Her eyelids flutter as you trail soft, closed mouth kisses over the hollow of her throat. She moans softly, and her fingers curl into your short hair. Fuck. She waits for a bit, letting you explore, but pipes up again when she feels you growing more hesitant –nerves winning out over exploration. “Use your tongue.” She shudders when you lick beneath her jaw. “Attagirl.”

The praise does something for you. You moan into her skin, then repeat the motion again. You swirl your tongue against her throat, mimicking the way the two of you had kissed seconds before.

“That’s it,” Sevika encourages you, eyes rolling back in her head. She rolls her hips against you, then groans when you press closer, neatly pinning her against the bar. “Good girl.”

You whine, loud and broken, then lift. You half lay her out on the bar, then support the rest of her by locking your arms just beneath her ass. You bend over her and bury your face in her neck, devouring her like a starved stray.

Sevika locks her ankles behind your back. She clutches at the back of your shirt with her right hand, and braces herself against the bartop with her left arm. She’s in the perfect position to grind against you, so that’s just what she does.

A small, idle fragment of her mind notes just how great this is. Yes, she enjoys having her way with women –and she’ll get to you soon enough–but there’s something to be said for receiving. It’s a new spin on “being eaten alive,” and she’s never been happier to be dinner.

She slides her fingers into your hair when your mouth trails lower, towards her clavicle. “Good girl.” She gasps, then tightens her grip on your hair when you drag your teeth over her collarbone. “That’s it –good girl, good girl–”

You moan and grind your hips against hers–

Something crashes in the alleyway outside. There’s a loud slam, followed by the crystalline crack of shattering glasses. An enraged, muffled shout ensues, followed by more heavy thudding.

You both freeze.

She recovers first. A few minutes of hearing proves it’s just a couple of angry drunks going at it –she can hear slurred, if muffled, arguing and grunting that accompanies being punched. Idiots. She turns back to you–

You’re completely stiff. Your eyes are wide, gaze flicking around the bar. You’ve gone from holding her to gripping the edge of the bar top.

Sevika winces faintly when she hears your knuckles crack. She opens her mouth to reassure you–

Another thud makes you flinch –and then you press down against her.

Sevika grunts. She tries to sit up, only for you to push her back down. She stops struggling when you use your arm to cover the top of her head. What the–

There’s something so deeply protective about the gesture that it makes her brain short circuit. You’re literally covering her with your body, as though the ceiling’s about to collapse on top of the both of you.

It’s sweet. It’s also bewildering because nothing bad is fucking happening. It’s just drunks in the alley; they’ll probably pass out long before they could ever beat each other to death.

Sevika gingerly splays her fingers against your back, between your shoulder blades. She murmurs your name, but gets no response –not even a glance of recognition. Her stomach drops when another round of shouting makes you flinch. She feels your chest push against hers as your breathing speeds up –and okay, that’s enough, time to divert things. She says your name, louder this time, then carefully cups the side of your face with her right hand. “Hey, baby. It’s okay. Just look at me, alright?”

You jolt when her thumb sweeps across your cheek. You do look down at her, though, and let out a shaky breath when you meet her gaze.

She revels, just for a moment, in how quickly you melt again under her attention. You’re still tense –you haven’t let up your death grip on the bar top–but your shoulders loosen up and your breathing slows a bit. You swallow hard, then lean every so slightly into her touch.

Focus. She can already feel herself getting sucked back into dreamy, brainless bliss. Focus, focus, focus. She blinks hard, then clears her throat. “Hey. Let’s get out of here, yeah? My place is quieter.” She pushes up on her left arm so the counter isn’t digging into her back. “More comfortable.”

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide. “Uh–”

Sevika swallows a grimace. Shit. Maybe Ran was right; she’s rusty, too eager, and now she’s pushing too fast. “It’s okay if you don’t–”

“No, no,” you cut her off. “We can –I just–” You set her down, then lick your lips as you rock from foot to foot. “My bed’s probably bigger.” You shrug and shove your hands in your pants pockets. “That’s all.”

Only several years of playing cards keeps her from sagging in relief. She nods, trying to process as panic flashes and ebbs, then takes a moment to study you. She notes the tightness in your shoulders, the way you’ve got your head ducked, and presses her lips together faintly. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Your eyes flash, and you step closer to her. “It’s not,” you growl, “an issue of want.” You swallow, then let out a self-deprecating laugh –which, fortunately, prompts you to relax a little. “I just won’t know what I’m doing, s’all.”

“I can work with that.” Sevika closes the distance between the two of you, gripping your hips when you bend down and kiss her again. She savors the feeling of your lips for a moment, then pulls away and grins up at you. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

[inventors-fair]

To the Best of their Abilities: Deputized Runners Up

Our runners up this week are @feyd-rautha-apologist, @helloijustreadyourpost, and @nine-effing-hells!

~

@feyd-rautha-apologist — Bloodmire Leechfisher

Probably the only time I'd want to find my socks full of leeches, honestly. I really like everything going on with this card, honestly. It feels very much like a collection of moving parts working in harmony. Plus, although it's definitely got a bit of "feedback loop" to it, that's diminished by the fact that the card is physically unable to get the loop going by itself. Even once you've found a source of lifegain, it's tricky to find ways to get the Leeches tapped down until you hit the magic number of 3. There likely won't be many opportunities to attack with their fragile selves, after all. Plus, I'll openly admit that I'm a sucker (pun not intended) for any time vampires get associated with a bloodsucker besides bats. Big fan of what this card is putting down, essentially.

@helloijustreadyourpost — Aggressive Rearmament

I think the first thing I want to address here is the choice of creature type. It's interesting that you went with Construct when the Brother's War more typically dealt in Soldier tokens. It could be passed off as simply wanting to make the tokens with an ability distinct from those without, but I feel like there's a bit more to interpret. I like Construct here as evidence of Urza's personal touch, in a sort of parallel to the perennial Karnstruct token. The flavor text has him, in essence, talk about prioritizing both form and function, so it makes sense that they'd have a bit of a flair to them, if that makes sense. Anyway, the actual gameplay of the card is good. I kind of find myself wishing it was an instant, because flashing these in as blockers makes for a very fun swing, but I can understand the hesitation. Still, it's a bit of a do-anything card with a lot of applications, and I can't ask for much more in a common.

@nine-effing-hells — False Shepherd

"Not-quite-dead demon subtly influences the living to engineer its resurrection" is a tried and true trope, but it's also one I'm a very big fan of, so you score points there. Cards that accrue value from the graveyard are always fascinating to me. The mana cost here does a lot, as while just getting a free token every turn from turn 1 if you can entomb it is a bit much, having to pay a bit each turn makes it enough of a commitment. The sherpherd is certainly an impressive body, but I enjoy how the tokens have the ability to resurrect any old demon you might have in your graveyard, especially when those demons are much more tempting to get onto the battlefield on the cheap (Valgavoth, anyone?). Plus, that way the shepherd can stay put in the yard building up a flock again. If anything, resurrecting the card itself comes off as more of a Plan B, which is a teensy bit incongruent with the flavor, but it makes the gameplay flow so much smoother that I struggle to get hung up on it.

~

And now it's all over. After a bit of a hiatus, though, I'm back on my regularly scheduled on-the-Discord-for-the-rest-of-the-day-taking-commentary-requests business, so don't be shy and come on down! —@spooky-bard

[fedoraspooky]

In light of tumblr shooting itself in the foot, I've been thinking about what I should do with my art from now on. Obviously, deleting my old posts off here isn't gonna do shit, it's essentially locking my door after my house got emptied out by burglars. Especially with my old rp account I no longer can log into, they're just gonna steal and sell my old art that I posted there and I can't even flip a questionably-affective toggle about it.

Thing is, I dunno how many people are gonna actually leave. I'm not even sure I will, since I have a lot of friends here... And after so many shitty updates a lot of people are just hanging on out of spite at this point.

That said, I'm considering that for art posts and stuff, maybe I'll post them elsewhere and just link to them here so they're not on tumblr's servers? Idk... Tumblr tends to kill the visibility of links but I'm not really sure what else I can do.

Also, there's the question of where to actually post new stuff. Bluesky seems the most active but I dont know if old posts cut off after a certain amount of posts like twitter does, in which case that would not be a good archive in the long run. xnx

Cohost is functionally pretty close to tumblr, but ngl it seems super isolated on there bc of its commitment to not showing any likes on your posts. I get that its to combat the social media numbers game, but the downside is that it looks like nobody's even seen your work. If people like something of yours there's no way outside of notifs to see it, so scrolling down on your page and seeing only zeros after zeros of comments on stuff (comments are the only visible number), it's easy to feel like you're just posting into a void.

Pillowfort is pretty good, and they just added tag blocking and the ability to queue/schedule posts. Still kinda quiet and invite only, but if you sign up for the invite queue you can get one pretty fast. Also i probaby have a ton of invites sitting around if anyone wants one. I wish it had an app, but mobile web version works well enough I guess, and I'm already used to doing that with sheezy and newgrounds, so I just have those open in mobile tabs together.

Speaking of, Newgrounds has been pretty good, but due to the nature of the portal system and stuff you're more encouraged to post only your better-looking stuff there. You CAN post doodles if you want, but only outside of the portal, which limits their visibility. Kinda like dA's scraps system I guess.

Sheezy looks super promising customization-wise so I'm thinking of posting there more when it opens up to more peeps.

Toyhouse also looks really good for OC and story things too, and also has a good degree of customization.

There's probs options I haven't even thought about, but its good to know there ARE options. I may post in several of those places for now and see how it goes. Test the waters a bit.

If you're thinking of moving your art elsewhere lemme know where, I'm curious to see where people are going :o

Especially you moots, i need to refind my pals in these other places!

[ang3l-core]

Way past exhausted

Yeah I wish that I could get more sleep cuz I know that right now if I could just let me give myself a little bit it would probably would work some wonders but I don't think that you know for me just exactly how hard it is

I feel like I'm running on fumes most of the time just to keep this body, yeah just to keep on functioning

I'm kinda mad in a way that this is only vessel that I have and that I ever will and I have no spares for it so I can't just up and abandon it

I would probably would never be able to even keep it working without a schedule

Cuz if I had maybe just took a nap or ended up wanting to go to bed early I could miss the deadline to give it all the fluids, artificial foods and medicines that are now apart of my everyday regimen to make sure that I don't end up in even worse shape than this

And trust me I would protest but hey, god made the rules I didn't

So now all I have to do is just keep on figuring out how to live my life this way

So I'll stay up just to make sure that I take my heart medication just so I don't wake up a dehydrated tachycardic mess

And then maybe my nurse won't look at me so sad when she sees my bad vitals in the morning and then looks back at me to smile and say "don't worry it's okay, we'll just try again and hopefully it might be better the next day"

One thing that I hate most about having my chronic illness is that through every part of it I feel everything

Even right now and I know that I must also be a little extra tired and weak because I know that overnight that I didn't get to but I should've let my immune system do what every night it's supposed to do

I didn't get to give it the little extra rest that it really needs to keep on going like this and repair itself and keep me straight up so I can do the things I'm supposed to do

But it feels like I really have little choice cuz I feel way worse when I fall asleep a little bit earlier at the time when I'm actually feeling like I want to and then I'll have hours go by and I forget that I'm going without the stuff I'm supposed to take and then it makes all of my problems even worse

So yeah it gets kinda frustrating when it's like "damned if you do, damned if you don't"

I have alot of up and down, on and off days

I guess there's never gonna be this whole "normal functioning system" that's gonna completely perfect for me to hold my expectations to and it's kinda fucked that even probably if there is a way that I somehow do I can't really expect perfection when my body isn't even all working perfectly too

So I guess for now I might take the slight insomnia if it means that maybe for a few hours until I have to take all my things again I can pretend that I'm almost actually "normal" when I get to my baseline again before I get back to the same way I was that crushes all my hopes for that and makes me feel like I may break again

Or need to go to a hospital

But that's just how it goes health is a luxury and not everything is easy for everyone

It just sometimes seems like it is sometimes for the certain people who like to talk about things to you cuz they don't actually know what it's like to live life inside your body

Cuz it seems like people always forget to remember that experiences are different so don't expect everyone what's your face the same easiness or difficulty to live life the same way that you do

And I know that explain that to everyone isn't always easy cuz you can always make people listen and understand

But really all they need to know is we're both different you're not me and I'm not you

Cuz I really get that feeling like you're wasting your time getting tired trying to overexplain yourself about something sucks

You know I think that's why also I feel like sometimes I choose just not to talk to people about my moments when I'm in pain or when I feel like I might be suffering and I'll at times just stay silent but I also feel like I shouldn't have to though

It shouldn't have to matter what you're talking about, you talking about how you're feeling while you're going through what you're going through is valid

I feel just like that's how some of alot of us feel when we're going through these things and we don't feel like we're being heard or we're dismissed and I think that that's why by now I can see why the most of us right now just feel like we're way past exhausted

[ask-ikevamp-faust]

To be honest I just hate to be awake early, I'm not a morning person and I think is a sin we have to wake up early to go to work and do other things, but now I have to do so since I started a new job.

But since now I wake up early at 7 am, I entertain myself thinking of you sleeping at that hour because you only wake up after 10 am or noon my dear 😄 why are you such a sleepy head?

Like I'm too but I have to do what I have to do because I have to take good care of you and you're really expensive buying all those books for your research.

Next time I can, I'm going to pinch your pretty nose but I don't think that's enough to wake you up 😆

– C🌽🌼

Congratulations on your new job. I wish you all the best with your endeavors. I agree, waking up early should be considered a sin.

A sleepyhead? Very brave of you to call me that. The body requires sleep to function properly, even a vampire can't escape that. I believe we should look at this differently though. I wake up after 10 am because most of the time I go to sleep around the time the sun is rising. I become so engrossed with my studies that I sacrifice sleep for it. There are also less distractions at the castle during the night, it allows me to concentrate better. I'll admit my schedule does create some conflict when it comes to making arrangements with others.

May I suggest a compromise? I'll go to bed after seeing you off for work. No nose pinching necessary If I'm awake.

I'm honored you want to take such good care of me. However, I would prefer it if you didn't worry about any of my personal expenses, such as books, lab equipment, chemicals, etc. If there is ever a time I don't want to use my own funds, I will simply have Lord Vlad pay for it. Aside from necessary bills, you should spend your money to treat yourself with things you enjoy. Saving is also important so be sure to handle your finances well.

Whenever you have a day off you should consider being a "sleepyhead" with me. It would be a relaxing way to spend the morning and afternoon.

[aamethyst000]

Feeling more productive, everyday (May 6,24 - 7:19pm)

Ever since i bought this laptop, i have been noticing that i am a little more productive in the house hold. i'm getting up a lot more easier to do my chores (altough i'm still bitchy about it but i'm still doing said chores while being bitchy about it lmao), i actually drew something on my laptop! not to mention i am actually cooking dinner on time......ish. its still better than starting at 9pm to finally cook dinner. Anyway, my litlle brother and i are going tp head up to the store in a bit to grab some ingredients and snacks for tonight. i am making meat loaf and rice tonight!~ I do want to mention, that i am still struggling with my sleep schedule, going to bed at 4-5 in the morning, then getting up at 2-3 the next day, rinse and repeat. i dont know how i'm still functioning right now. At the moment, i'm running on 2 cups of coffee and one meal, i call that a win in my book. I'm still debating on whether or not i really want to buy the boox palma when i can do the exact same thing on my phone, just with a different screen and no texting. The boox palma runs on android, thank god. I think that why i want it so much, is to have a seperate device to read on. now that i have a different device to write my journals in.

8:17pm - my little brother and i just got home from the store, now i am going to start cooking our dinner tonight and watch some shera on netflix! then i think im going to play conkers bad fur day after supper <3

9:37pm - Dinner is almost done and i washed a few plate n forks that we need, now i am just watching shera while dinner is cooking. i'm on my third cup of coffee and i have been yelled at by my uncles cat ever since i came back from the store, poor thing lmao he just wants my attention. only in my room though, it doesnt seem to be the same im im in the kitchen or in the living room. it doesnt make sense to me but it does to the kitty, so i try not to fight with him, its hard to do so when i have stuff to do throughout the day. My kitty was the same way ysterday, all clingy and shit, not that i minded, i really love it when they are like that. it cheers me up.

honestly though, this feels so much better writing my journals here than on paper. at least this way, my laptop has a passowrd that no one in the house can get into. though it kind of sucks that it is a requirement to change my password every few months. why they even set it up like that is beyond me. i wonder what it'll be like if and when i actually go to a cafe and type out my journal entries there. its noce to imagine, but at the same time, the crowd would overwhelm me lmao then again, it's something i should get used to if i want to go back to work again. i just wish that the places i work at dont fckn ghost me, if and when they decide to let me go. that would be nice fir once. especially if i did something wrong to be let go like that. like, why are they even allowed to do that? but when the employees do that, just up and leave the work place or quit on the spot, we get go on the list of "do not hire"? kind of stupid isnt it?

i think im about to go on a rant in a sec, so i'm going to do something else, see if i still feel the same way about it later on. if i do, i'll talk about it here lol

9:56pm - now that i got that out of my system, i still feel the same way, i just dont feel the need to rant about it. i think ill just sit on this feeling and think about it. considering that there is nothing that i can personally do, to change said circumstances. anyway, change of subject, im finally listening to audio books now! since it got onto spotify, ive been taking advantage of it and i am so happy that i am! i think thats part of the reason why i have been feeling a little motivated today. i think im starting to love audio books now, im thinking of dowloading the app later on, or as soon as i can get a stable and steady job again, cause this is getting ridiculous, even for me.if i was living on my own, id either be on the streets or back to living with my mother again. reality sucks but oh well, what can i do other than look for another job. the village sucks for job hunting, especially if its just the canery, brighter feature, and assistant teacher. 2 of those i do not like because it involvles interacting with kids, which i am not used of. the other involves 12-14 hours of just standing there or stacking. not a lot of choices for me to choose from, thats for sure. i used to work at the clinic but they havent called me back in nearly a year. same with the school, after the pandemic started, i was never called back. hence why i wanted to rant about the whole " work places just up and ghost you" bullshit. stuff like that really annoy me so much. which is why i am so worried about moving, what if pg does the same? i look for a job for months, never get hired, be expected to pay rent each month i am unepmloyed AND buy myself groceries. not to mention the transportation, the area id live in and if every single one of them just fucking ignore me. since ive been planning this with my best friend, i told her about wanting to save up enough to pay 3 to 4 months of rent, have enough for groceries, and a few furniture if we find a place that needs it. she took note of it after i told her my olfer brothers experience and mine. it can be really stressful when no one hires you. it really makes you think if any of that, is because of whats on your resume, or what i say in most of my interviews, i dont even feel comfortable lying to them, just so i can get the bloody job and start making and saving money. like ive been planning for so many years. i just wish that adulting is so much easier. but that would be too much to ask of our prime minister. selfsih piece of shit. Anyway, dinner is nearly done cooking so i am going to go back to watching shera and enjoy our late dinner, again. i like that i started typing a lot more here than i did on my phone. i love it, i almost dont want to stop, almost.

12:07am - we have just finished having our supper and MY G O D was supper ever so yummy~ i couldnt finish my plate so i think im going to give the rest to my little brother, but at the same time. i want to keep it for myself for when i get hunry for it again. i think im going to go bath tonight and then set up my trans tape for tomorrow. ill be buying more i think next week wen i have more money in my bank. which, btw, i need to go down to the band office and take out cash again. cause honestly, i want to stop myself from spending so much money in one go. i want to get better at that, i will acknowledge, though, that i have been doing really well on not spending so much. i managed to save more than enough after the rupert trip with my littlw brother. im really proud of that <3

12:36am - i am going to get ready for a bath now, had my 4th (forth) cup of coffee and 0 (zero) cups of water. i gotta catch up on that one. i used to be able to keep up with my water intake. well, except for when i was a teen, i hated the taste of plain water, so i remember avoiding drinking water unless absolutley necessary, which, at the time, was kind of rare for me to do. i was drinking one to two cups of water every other day. i was an absolutely stubborn child, i hated being wrong lmao i still kind of do, actually. im just not as stubborn as i was before, at least not to the point where im putting my health on the line. so yeah, i guess i still hate being wrong most times lmao

should i bring this up in my therapy appointment? i think i should. or rather, i feel like i should, but i dont want to. i just want to make the appointment again, and just fckn rant my therapist ear right out. maybe ill feel better afterwards and be better on my own time schedule management with my friends and family. i was so afraid to become that adult who is almost never home, drinking and doing ddrugs a lot, to the point where someone may take advantage of me at my lowest. however that may look. that i stayed home way more than a normal person considers "normal". i dont know how else to put it. i just know that my best friend is very sick of it and so am i. im 25 going to be turning 26 this year and i should and want to act like it for once in my life. i know that, physically, im no longer a teenager anymoe but in my brain, im jumping from 14, 16,17 and18 all in one go it seems. but i think ill save this topic for another time. kekekekekekeke

good night, readers! <3

[most-definitively-a-human]

Oh dear. It seems I may have made yet another character autistic without realising. We've got three now. (Most likely.) Yay!

I'm happy her experiences are different enough to mine that I'll still have fun. (I get bored when characters are too similar to me)

I'm seeking out the input of people who aren't as negatively affected by autism as I am to get a clear view of things. I'm disabled to the point where I can't drive or work by it, have a caregiver, and don't relate much to much of the autistic representation I see. My experiences with autism are predominately sensory, motor, and with executive function, but I don't struggle to make friends and Lumin's are mainly social and about routine, I think that's why I didn't notice for so long. In many ways we're complete opposites.

My experiences are a skewed and incomplete perspective of what the spectrum is, and something I'd like to rectify/add onto.

About Lumin

Lumin despises interruptions, experiences outbursts of rage whenever interupted, and follows a strict schedule (mainly due to being a workaholic but she does find it soothing). She prefers to do things together than talk most of the time (like sparring), has to excercise to deal with a ceaseless and restless energy, and doesn't understand people different to herself and assumes everyone is similarly oppurtunistic.

She communicates in a blunt, direct manner, with occasional vivid metaphor. She despises looping floral speech, abhors small talk and beaureocracy, and doesn't understand how to interact with others outside of intimidation or power plays as that was all she was taught.

Other people's emotions and sentimentality baffle her, and she's annoyed by their outbursts. She sometimes attempts to soothe people by saying things like "you have nothing to cry about" and "it could be worse" with genuine kind intent. She wishes she could find people who aren't so easily upset.

As a doctor, she is baffled by people who say she has a bad bedside manner. Why are they angry at her for failing to interrupt her duty to engage in pleasantries? Do they want her to be slow and incompetent? If you want pleasantries go elsewhere. You have a broken arm. Why isn't that your priority?

She couldn't bear working as a soldier since she hated being ordered about and 'being in the prescence of so many unambitious idiots' (I think she might also be overwhelmed by all the people but too proud to admit it) (she also hates turning her hobby into a job) (sparring is the one thing in her life that wasn't graded and she wants to keep it that way)

When she meets Asran (a small child of eight years) she decides to entertain him by reading out loud medical textbooks. This works. She does not have any other ideas for methods of entertainment other than "put him in a garden and ignore him" or "give him non sharp medical tools to fiddle with"

Most people dislike her, and she gave up on trying to be friendly long ago. She tries to seem as intimidating and unpleasant as possible because if she can't be loved, at least she can be feared.

She also has a strict moral code and is relentlessly adherent to authority figures she admires. She thinks it is sacriledge to question them.

Typing this out, it seems the main reason I didn't realise it is because she doesn't need a carer like me. She seems pretty obvious now that I type everything up.

I do have another few points of difficulty though.

Reasons why I'm uncertain

-Her inability to empathise is more due to her experiencing severe trauma and also being a jerk. She could understand others if she tried. She just doesn't want to because a) she has work to do and b) to her people are all the same anyway. No point in analysing them when the only important thing is ascertaining whether or not they're useful or a threat. (She would still have a naturally blunt style of communication without trauma - might be even blunter) (And would still be fixated on medical knowledge to the detriment of everything else.)

-She's an alien mermaid with a different set of instincts. She has a heightened prey drive and heightened instincts. Due to her species this explains much of the autism like symptoms, like the sensory seeking behaviour and love of schedule. In short, she wouldn't qualify for a diagnosis without being an alien so I'm not quite sure if she counts.

Personally I think her experiences will be very relatable to many autistic people, but I'm not quite sure yet due to the alien mermaid thing.

I want to make sure I'm describing her accurately. I'm not interested in changing her to be more in line with the diagnostic criteria - she's her own person and close to being fully developed as a character at this point. If she's subclinical that's great because people on the border between neurotypical and autistic get someone to relate to, and if she isn't that's also great. Either way she'll resonate with people, and that I'm content with

I just want to know how best to describe her and make no false promises. (Don't want to say she's autistic rep when she might just a more relatable than average ornery fish lady)

[dearestxiao]

Hey I just wanted to ask and I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfy but what happened to saekogun? I missed your #junesdegeneracyau and then I found out everything disappeared which was weird bcs I recall seeing ur blog in like March 2022

hi there nonnie... omg wow it's been such a long time since I've actually posted on this blog. thank you so much for the concern and to anyone else who's asked about me.

to give a quick tldr as to what happened with saekogun exactly: I took a break from writing right around a point in my life where I was both very busy, and slowly becoming more and more happy. the break turned out to be much longer than I thought it would be, and I one day decided to get rid of saekogun. my mental health has improved immensely, and I just wanted to say hello again.

I will start this off by saying I am very much alive and well. at the start of my first semester last year I decided to take a break from writing so that I could focus on my classes and internship and... just about everything else life had in store for me. it was initially supposed to be a short two week break, which is why I had initially never posted about it. but as more and more time went on, big (good) things kept happening in my life, and I had felt as if my mental health had additionally improved being away from tumblr. I decided that, for the sake of my mental well-being, I would not return for quite some time until I was fully stable enough to do so.

tumblr was a really weird source of turmoil in my life back then, which is kind of funny to say now that I look back on it (it sounds sooooo unserious, I know I know). I never talked about this openingly on my blog, but I did struggle a lot with my mental health, especially as someone with bpd. during the time that I wrote for saekogun, I had consistent and heavy episodes and mood swings. I knew no one else with bpd nor did I have someone I could talk about it with, so I felt a bit alone.

I felt very alone in my struggles and used tumblr as a sort of crutch and aid and it helped. immensely. but it also hurt me in different ways. I treated tumblr as a big responsibility in my life and it felt like I had a full time job as a content creator. I'm also neurodivergent and my executive function issues were beating me up without remorse. this was at a point in my life where I really did not have time for running my blog, but writing and interacting with the lovely following I had generated felt great. it was just too much for me though unfortunately, so I decided to move on.

I decided that I would keep the blog up running so that people could still enjoy it in my absence. however, one night after thinking on it for months I decided to just get rid of it. it sounds odd, but now that I was healing, that blog was just too representative and tied to a bad era of my life for me to want it to keep existing. so I banished it into the void, never to be seen again.

a lot of stuff has happened between now and then. to keep things short and sweet, I'm a lot happier now. I won't say things are absolutely perfect, because not everything can be of course, but I feel as though I've healed and grown. some amazing things have happened and for the first time in years I experienced true joy for a very long period of time. I'll stop myself from rambling before I get too cheesy and corny. but just know that it fr does get better y'all. I'm so glad I've lived long enough to a point where I can confidently say that.

I have a lot of regrets when it comes to saekogun. I definitely was not the best blog runner. I was constantly behind on asks and projects and I made lots and lots of mistakes when it came to my posting schedules and how I handled asks. I had so many asks that I never got to and made so many promises I couldn't keep. for that I deeply and utterly apologize. I do wish that I had done better and am sorry to those who've I disappointed. I thank everyone who had took the time to send something in and put time and energy into my blog.

another regret I have is not saving the color blue before I had gotten rid of the blog. that story is unfortunately lost to time itself since I don't have any portion of it saved. which sucks because if there was anything I'd continue to write about here from my old blog, it'd be that, but I have no access to it now.

I'm also sorry for anyone I have worried in my absence. I really should have made a post sooner, but I honestly had no idea what to say. I didn't know how to come back, and the longer I took to say anything, the harder it got.

I am beyond grateful for everything you've all had done for me, and for sticking around and checking up on me, and for enjoying my content in the first place. I cannot put into words how much it means to me for people to have cared about my silly little degenerate posts. from the bottom of my heart, I seriously thank you all. I also thank my sweet anons, old mutuals, and any followers who are still here.

now, onto the big question: will I ever write for this blog again? the answer is... iffy. I often fantasize about being able to write again, but the truth is I'm not into genshin anymore whatsoever, which is an issue since my primary fandom was always genshin. at some point after sumeru's initial release, I was simply just not as into the game anymore, and was too busy to actually sit down and play. I have no idea what's going on lore or game wise, and anything thats happened fandom wise either.

unfortunately, I'm not interested in getting back into genshin, so I'm very sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping for more content like what I used to create.

however, I love writing. and I'm still really into yanderes and dark fiction as a whole. but I'm currently not into any fandoms that I think people would really be interested in so I don't think I have much to offer in terms of content. so for now, it's a... maybe? I guess we can talk about that as time goes by.

this is absolutely not to promise I'll actually be back though. I'm not sure if I'd be able to run a blog still to be honest, atleast not consistently. but I would love to drop by and post a little something every now and then and talk with you all.

thank you all once again, and thanks to whoever read this entire mess of words. listen, I'm rusty okay 😔

[asher-agere]

Hello, Ash, and have a good time. I hope you're okay and your day is going well without causing you too many problems. I know that I'm probably writing to you with long breaks, I'm really sorry, maybe later I'll write even more often than usual – at least I hope so. For starters, you're still a great writer. It's interesting to read about your experience with different things and also to read your thoughts about different things, it's even more amazing that you still manage to maintain this balance between your blog and ordinary life (yes, you were told this by a person whose blog and virtual space have been empty for three hundred years, so I have experience in empty space, ha ha). Second. It's more of a conversation with you as a person who writes and shares his opinion with others, including thoughts about age regressors or caregivers in certain fandoms. When you write something, compose headlines, or change your mind, don't you have a feeling that you might be doing something wrong, a sense of shame, or that you're doing it for nothing? Or you're one of those lucky people who doesn't feel that way and can enjoy what they're doing? I know this may sound like a reproach, but I don't mean it, again, if it's too uncomfortable for you, then you don't have to answer this question. It's just… well… okay, lately I've developed something like a hyperfixation on age dreaming or regression and on the topic of caregivers figures and the like, and lately I've wanted to express my thoughts about it quite often – but I keep getting the feeling that if I start talking about it, it's it would be wrong if, as if doing this, I see fandoms in some "wrong, wrong" way. Unfortunately, right now I don't have the opportunity to create a separate space in tumblr for these thoughts or opinions (I know there are additional blogs, it's just… I'm not sure how it works and besides, I've heard that they have restrictions on social functions) – when I will have a trip in the summer I will try to create another account if possible, but until then I may just need to overcome my nervousness about this. Anyway, thank you if you had the patience to read this long message to the end or even reply to it, I am very grateful to you – especially considering that you are, in fact, the first writer on these topics with whom I maintain a more or less close relationship, so I think your opinion is quite important to me.. Anyway, thank you again and I wish you good luck with a good day and to make everything work out.

Hehe hi there! Always nice to hear from you, I don’t mind at all if it sometimes takes awhile! That just gives me more time to look forwards to your next visit ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) One of the biggest things that let’s me maintain my blog and life balance is probably the fact that I’m a minor honestly, I have less responsibilities. I like my life being scheduled personally! It helps me fit in time between everything else! For example I write on car rides to and from social events, I take 15 minutes to write between classes, and I basically write nonstop before bed until I get too tired (ᵕ—ᴗ—) It also helps to enjoy writing! Anytime I’m getting stressed I just push things back and give myself some writing time! Or if I notice myself doomscrolling on Pinterest, I’ll give myself 5 more minutes then forcefully switch to writing!

Each of your questions is slightly different to me? I’ll explain! Feeling like I’m doing something wrong to me means like, misinterpreting something, getting a hard fact wrong. I don’t feel this much with general agere content? But I totally do with things I’m less familiar with! Some examples are writing for BPD, petre, or padded agere! My best solution to that feeling is to give a warning that I’m unfamiliar with the topic, and if anyone has a big issue with something I wrote I’m more than willing to completely take down a post! I don’t get much shame from what I post? But that’s likely because I’m behind the shield of the internet. Literally none of the information put into this account is my real information, so no one will be able to connect irl me to this! Plus as long as my posts are tagged correctly the only people who should be looking at my content are people who want to see my content, it’s a nice safe bubble! I definitely get the feeling of doing this all for nothing. All the time. I check my activity dashboard obsessively, when those numbers are down, so is my mood. But I’ve found over time what things can bring up my mood again to try and cancel those feelings! It’s tough, but that’s one that just needs to be pushed through, trust me it’s worth it in the end

Making a separate blog is a wonderful thing! I don’t know much about side blogs either, I haven’t yet had reason to make one. One of the main restrictions though is your likes and asks will always tie back to your main blog. But you can send anon asks @-ing your agere blog, and if you mention it in your pinned on your main then people can easily connect the dots! A separate blog is definitely more ideal, but it does take more effort on your part, just make the choice that works best for you! Also if you do make an agere blog, a side blog or a new account, I’ll 100% follow you and interact with all the content I can understand!

[mikhaela]

2024 was a good year.

at the end of 2024, my conclusion was this: i am very lucky and have always been.

q1, i led a cultural mapping project in my home province of laguna. in a place that urbanized, attitudes were different from my experience in quiet rural areas. people were less willing to share, everyone was more suspicious, and there was very little respite - no meadow or sea where i could just stand still and think. it was exhausting.

luckily, we've since gotten the certificate of compliance for this. all good. 2025 is election year, so i'll take a break from all that. just for now.

outside of actual projects, had the chance to hone my skills at trainings and workshops i was surprised to get accepted to. in april, i was in melaka in the company of important people in built heritage (directors of national heritage boards! superstar conservation architects!). normally i'd be a bit shy but i could hold my own in this field. and it of course helped that everyone was sweet and willing to share and accommodated my never-ending questions.

i was also chosen to attend a prestigious fully-funded youth workshop in yogyakarta. really more a networking event among people with leadership potential in southeast asia. great fun to see what everyone was up to. went to borobodur (!), but the tight schedule meant i couldn't see prambanan nor the ramayana ballet. at least malioboro was cool.

in september, i was in the hague for a heritage in crisis leadership course. blessed to have been chosen and flown out to europe for this. wish i'd been in a better disposition - it coincided with the 1st anniversary of my father's death and i was pensive all throughout. mostly hung out with the conservators. was quite taken with karma from bhutan, who's funny, smart, and confident in ways i'd like to be.

throughout the year, there were many moments of beauty that gave me pause. that stunning sunset from my hotel room balcony at port dickson with pop music in the background as the congratulatory email about the hague popped up. tearing up at a flood control wall patched up across different centuries in japan inside a tadao ando building. staring in awe at the anatomy of dr. nicolaes tulp by rembrandt and the girl with the pearl earring at the mauritshuis.

and i'm most thankful for reconnecting with friends i hadn't seen in years. in march ashwin and i grabbed lunch during his brief layover on the way back to new york. in july kyle stayed with me for a week - we didn't do much but talk about geopolitics until 7am. a week after that i visited him to do more of that, except this time along the east coast of taiwan. in september i grabbed dinner with kenta in leiden where he's doing his masters in linguistics. also snuck out of an event to catch up with jarie at the embassy in the hague until he dropped me off at the restaurant where i was meeting the other fellows.

towards the end of the year i started going to mass for the social function of it, the comfort its rituals offer. i love jesus and the stories and the songs. hosea is my favorite and exchanging peace be with you's to strangers can move me to tears. both things could make me cry when i'm in a very specific mood.

i didn't get to visit my father's grave the entire year but i did think about him every single day no matter where i was. my father. dead. over a year now.

coping with grief is a kind of skill too. so much to learn and absorb and do and practice. what i'm trying now is to approach it with the same curiosity i treat everything else: prodding, cogitating, exploring until i get sick of it.

[a-ghost-of-a-good-mood]

I finally got diagnosed with ADHD at 32, after a bad breakdown where I missed 2 whole weeks of classes because I lost almost all the things that kept me in check and feeling secure and cared for (last year's friends, teachers, schedule, swimming lessons, meds losing the brain side effect, commuting added 1 extra hour going from 3 to 4 hrs) so after the anxiety and depression, I just went into "Instant gratification" mode and spend day after day reading fanfic in bed, wrapped in my coziest blankets, forgot to even eat or drink water some days, I couldn't leave the house either, I was as if I was trapped inside my brain and my unmovable body... I was saddening tbh...

So I got dragged to a psychiatrist and well... Here we have, a ADHD diagnosis...

To think that a good chunk of my life got fucked up because of ADHD (cuz, what I mentioned before has happened before many times, I just got dismissed by family and random people as being lazy and uncaring of the efforts made by my parents to pay for my education), because I made impulse driven decisions of leaving things unfinished, when I couldn't cope with the growing stress of everything I my brain just ran away into more pleasant activities and I couldn't stop .

I've been living my life trying my hardest to be normal, to behave like a normal functional adult, wanting to be normal like everyone else, but I just learned that'll never happen, it could have never happened, cuz my brain developed differently cuz I inherited fucked up genes for my dad (again!)

And I know this is not an illness, but to me in particular, is a very real health issue that has lead me to destroy my life time and time again and right now I am very unhappy and pissed at myself and I feel wrong and I also have to catch up on all my missing classes, and I also have zero will and energy to make acquittances with my new classmates I just go non verbal until a teacher asks me something, and I also feel very awkward cuz I don't know what to do with my body and my facial gesticulations.

And above all this.... I just want to be the same person I was last year, strong, dependable, racing brain to solve issues in creative ways, to process and integrate knowledge fast, to talk with everyone with a confident voice, pouring my respect and care to everyone and specially for my friends/found fam, to know I was a bit different than the rest but still feel comfortable enough to show it in an empowering light.

I rn, am just trash, a corpse trying to get afloat in my own terrible storm. Trying to accept a diagnosis and wishing that one day I'll be able to forgive myself for fucking up my life, for being born with ADHD condition and I don't know when that'll be, or when I'll be able to live with the condition in a functional way, when I'll learn to thrive...

I just wanted to live a simple life, fall in love with a dependable person who'll love me back without an ounce of doubt and we'll age together, but now I'm not sure if anyone would want the burden I represent, I feel more unlovable that ever...

[eva-does-their-best]

Disclaimer: Just in case someone thinks this, I am NOT saying I could be intersex, this post is about my Arfid, my other disabilities, and the particularity of my body. NOTHING of what I say, felt, or experienced is enough to make such a huge claim, it would be extremely irresponsible and disrespectful towards actual intersex people to say such a thing. End of discalimer.

Ugh I'm really confused now, I know my body and development have always been heavily affected by my Arfid and other disabilities and that my body won't ever be "normal".

But hrt has been so abnormal for me compared to everyone else who started at a similar time. My breast growth has been faster than them, the changes to my genitals and how they function have appeared way earlier, my blood tests have shown that hrt seems to have fixed so many things in my body including my undiagnosed thyroid problem i've had since I was a child. It even fixed my erratic sleep schedule I naturaly have a fixed one now somehow.

Before I started hrt my T levels were high and my E levels were also high ( 7.09ng/ml T average being 1.65-7.53; 41.18pg/ml E average being 0-39.8 tho other tests I did said the average was up to 43.2 so I am not out of range) , then on minimal dose both my T and E dropped significantly but I still had good changes and was feeling okish, and now that i got a higher dose it only took my body a week to actually end up doubling in E (63.3pg/ml), spiking into cis levels and I feel so so much better (except for bpd going out of control due to the sudden change). But it seems even when my hormones were low my body was in fact fixing all those things.

It's like my body actually needed to have less testosterone but I doubt I'll ever get an answer, research on hrt is limited and research on Arfid is so recent and niche I doubt there is anything significant.

I just wish I knew how my body works because it always scares me that it will suddenly stop.

[countthereds]

min kol el waja3 elli 7assoh jowwa, et2oolo enni ya3ni makelli 9'arbeh mrattebeh, mish ga3ed bi dari ma basawwi eshi

يعني لو إنه حمار بقلكم ماشي، بس هي مرة مرتين اللي شربت فيها و أختي عاملالي فيها قصة و حكاية. شو يعني، كفرنا إذا حكينا عن الكحول و شربنا

لماو، هو اه كفرنا، بس يعني مش إشي جديد عليها. نفسي تعاملني زي كإني حد بالغ عاقل راشد بقدر يقرر شو يسوي. بعدين شو الواحد تحمس على شغلة، ما أدمنت! ولا حتى كنت مثقل ولا إشي.

wala marra wsilet 5mar 7atta

anyway, there's also the issue with lee. Like, they're in a bad spot, I'm trying to cheer them up and be there and just, do what I can

but lee got injured, couldn't talk, then was sick and slept all the time, and I have work due to start soon so I've been sorta fixing my sleeping schedule a bit so I can wake up to my job and they're pulling shit like "i feel like a dirty secret"

like, i can't begin to explain how very much they Are. do they think I can just date and show that i am dating to my parents but just hide who it is i'm dating? Yes they're a secret, my parents don't even allow me to _date_ what did they expect

no really what DID they expect? me having a social group? people to introduce to them? I've introduced them to all the irl people i talk to. I can introduce them to the rest of the dnd group and try to get them to meet and stuff but I Really don't have anything Else. Ffs, they talked to _my mother_

and i can't talk to anyone about lee because lee met Everyone so I can't just _talk about lee to the people who know lee and now like them_

and even when I go abroad, I won't have any of my _own_ people. they'll like me and stuff but i'll have met them through lee, they'll be Lee's people first.

and like, so they realise how cold and hard that is? how terrifying, for a person who has spent their whole life isolated and barely has social contact with others, to leave Everything behind, and cut contact, lie, hide, and run to you, leaving behind everything they've ever known and like, having nobody but You and your family to go to?

I Want to trust lee, i really do, but this is scary. in my head, family is the only secure people, and i can't shake that off. Family comes with the obligation of caring for you, blood matters. My own _blood_ doesn't like me, you want me to rely on your family liking me enough to consider me family and let me in?

and like, what more could they want, what more really I need to know because at this point i feel like I've wrung my heart dry thinking about it.

They want me to have a schedule when I usually can't. I want to have a regimented time table, it would be so easy and nice, but this is the vacation, nothing is stable and nothing is set in stone. Until i get my job, set into a routine, a schedule is a pipe dream because I have to avoid my parents and siblings and everyone else while I try to live. I don't have a space to retreat to to do the stuff I want, I don't have my own kitchen to eat in as I wish. my parents do not see me as an adult, just an overgrown child and pushing against those boundaries takes so much when all my life they have been tighter around me than even normal children.

I _want_ peace and quiet, I _want_ control over my life, i _want_ to have my own space to persue my own hobbies and likes and dislikes

I want my own apartment, I'd kill for one rn

I don't want to live with anyone else, I want some independence, and I want some freedom to be and act the way I want and dress the way I want and have No one tell me how to do things because i have a functioning brain, thank you, if i need help I'll look it up

yeah, 7 months in, and I don't want the same.kind of relationship that lee talks about. or at the very least, not with the _extra_ circumstances that I am under.

I'd want to date as equals, both of us able to step out and away and have our own autonomy. I want to have my own space, that I only clean and maintain for myself, not because i would be in the way for anyone else. I want to have my own standing, my own social groups, my own LIFE before I make it so that my life is tied irrevocably to someone else.

I mentioned this before, I don't mind being engaged. i like it even. but the marriage would have just been

حبر على ورق

and not like, anything else. I said this, I SAID this how did lee miss it in all of the other stuff I want Freedom, Independence, autonomy first and foremost and THEN i can consider marriage

I'm getting my degree, and THEN we can think of marrying each other. We can remain engaged for as long as it feels comfortable, but marriage is too soon.

I want to _travel_ I want to Leave, i want to Work, I want to save up some money i need a lot more than what the world has dealt me and i am Greedy for life and foods and wines and taste and sights and smells i have never seen before

and screw whoever tells me that's not in store for me. I'd rather be a 60 year old person wandering around than being tied down to nothing