#{ many words is poverty }
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fiapple · 10 months ago
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literally, i love nami so much, you do not even understand. you cannot begin to fathom.
#like yes she does fall into *some* misogynistic tropes especially insofar as character design. as much as i wholeheartedly adore arlong#park you could argue that on a doylist level that- when contextualized with a lack of women on the main crew who are actively fighters in#the way male characters get to be- that the fact of(though YES IT IS WELL-WRITTEN ITSELF) the authorial choice to have her empowerment be#gained through asking for help plays into misogynistic tropes regardless of it's technical quality. these criticism are worthwhile.#that said- she is such an interesting & consideratley written character when oda does not fall into those more flawed mindests.#she is amongst very few characters who i have seen genuinely approach wealth as a means of security & stability learned through the absence#of such explored compassionatley & with understanding. she gets to be flawed she gets to be morally gray. she gets to be mean & negativel#-y informed by her trauma & inconsiderate & selfish & at times unkind while also being depicted as human & sympathetic & multi-dimensional#just exist as a fucked up human being doing her best within the context of her universe in a way we rarely get to see with female character#especially in male dominated & male targetted fields like shounen & western comic books. like she is such a salient individual & humana ch#-racter with a holistic & reasoned examination of class-politics & the emotional dependency that can result from the trauma that can#manifest as a result of surviving poverty without condoning it's attitudes OR blaming the victim on a narrative-level is very masterfully#& like something in particular that i enjoy about nami is that she isn't necessarily a good person. she admits as much. but she is living#for herself & what she cares about & that goes DIRECTLY back to a major informing event for her character (bellemere's death & last words)#how she contextualizes her ultimate right to life & consumption. like she is approached as a fully dimensional human beings who- irregardl#-ss of the morality of her conclusions- has context informing her worldview to the extent she is UNDERSTANDABLE without condoning any misgu#-ded views OR (& this is where many writers fuck up) taking them to a severe enough extent that sympathetic framing feels like the impositi#-n of forgivability. & like- the way that itself is done on a techincal level is something i would like to commend oda for in particular.#grey's one piece tag#nami
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justaholeinmysoul · 1 year ago
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The main example of how the mass thinking nowadays is UScentric and unfiltered from context is the age discourse. The whole boomer thing.
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glitchdollmemoria · 2 years ago
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also on the topic of that last post, poverty seriously is so fucking traumatizing lol. now that i have foodstamps i make sure some of what i buy is shelf stable food that i can stockpile if i dont eat it within the month, because i dont trust that my benefits wont be slashed or completely taken away at the whim of whoever is in charge. ill probably always be a food hoarder because of the complete fear i experienced when dealing with food scarcity. ill probably always be the type to try to spend as little as possible because the more i have in savings, the more of a cushion ill have if i lose income, the less ill have to be batshit fucking terrified if that happens. i hear people casually talk about having not worked for a while, saying "yeahhh haha i should probably get a job again" and i feel fucking insane because ive been living under the fact that if i lose my job, i either need to find a new one immediately or im dead. literally dead, i am not fucking exaggerating, because i as a very disabled person would not be able to survive unhoused, and thats what will happen if i miss any more rent payments. and like, im only talking about my own situation, but fuck dude. this shit is traumatic, that is the word for it, and governments are complicit in this trauma when they dont provide the support needed for people to live safe and happy lives. and thats its own sort of trauma too, really - realizing that the people in power, by and large, are not on your side, that they do not give a fuck about your comfort or safety or life, that they do not give a single fucking shit if you die. all of it is traumatic.
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meangan-thee-lesbian · 2 years ago
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Literally me every time I need to go to the doctors to get a Centrelink medical certificate: I have a long-standing diagnosis of epilepsy. The serious life-threatening kind. I am currently having seizures left, right and centre. I cannot go to the grocery store without risking passing out on the footpath and falling under a bus. I spend 14hrs sleeping every day and barely have the time or energy when I wake up to eat and brush my teeth before going to sleep for another 14 hours. I struggle to remember what I did this morning or tbh even my own middle name. My head constantly feels like it’s either a) on the spin cycle in a washing machine or b) going to implode, sometimes both at the same time.
Literally the doctor: lol so why do you need a Centrelink medical certificate for this?
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homocidalpotat · 6 months ago
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Please do not send me asks for donations
Here's why (for if you find that statement impossible to understand):
I have NO money to give you.
I'm not popular enough that I will give you any reach.
I am a minor, and most of my followers/mutuals are too.
It makes me feel extremely guilty.
Seeing pictures of injuries or hospitals etc are triggering and/or upsetting for me. These pictures often have blood, gore, extreme medical situations, hospital environments, etc. I'm not saying I don't feel sympathy for them, I'm saying I do not want to see that.
They are always worded in a way that makes me feel like I am a murderer if I don't donate.
I said I don't want them, and my boundaries should be respected. They make me feel uncomfortable, and sometimes triggered or upset.
I can't tell what is a bot/scam and what isn't. Yes, I know most of them are not, or whatever it is you believe, but I don't have the time to do a full study of each asker.
I get a lot of spam from this. It is disappointing to see 10 new asks in my inbox just to be the same ask for donations over and over.
Please, just respect the fact that I have said this.
If you want this in your pinned post, please don't credit me. You can copy the words or take a screenshot with my username cropped out. You can reblog this but please don't go on about how awful your experiences have been. I get it, but also if you spiral two much you might end up accidentally saying something bad. This post has led to a lot of hate anons and harassment, so I would rather not have too much attention. Thanks...
I am pro Palestine and want to do everything I can to help but I'm not financially or mentally well enough to do much. I'm not in support of these people dying. Also, this post isn't just about Palestine. It's about ALL asks for donations. I'm not doing favouritism or racism. I just can't deal with it. Don't harass me for expressing boundaries. This post applies to people of all nationalities and backgrounds. Every situation- war, poverty, injury, anything. I'm not discriminating. I'm not being a zionist or a racist or an ableist. It's a boundary.
Yes, this post might seem controversial. But I did literally make this for my own personal experience and didn't expect it to get more than 12 notes or so. Don't add opposing views because quite frankly, it's none of your business. It's not my problem and I didn't mean for this post to get so many notes. Don't use the number of notes as an excuse to fight me. I just want a peaceful Tumblr experience. Also, if you are reblogging this, don't trauma dump. I keep notifications on for this post so that I can block people harassing me before shit escalates, so I can see every reblog. You can screenshot and repost if you want to talk about your problems, but honestly its no better seeing people saying "I'm bankrupt and I just got kicked out by my family. I also have a history of abuse and those images are so triggering that I want to die". That doesn't help me. Make your own post to say that. Please.
I am taking this post off private after slightly modifying it. Any conflicting arguments based on this post will result in my blocking and reporting of you. If you do not understand my point of view, make sure you fully read the post before saying this. I made this post for my blog. If you have any questions or don't understand this post, send me an ask that is composed, calm and polite, and I can talk it through with you.
Please note that by sharing this post, you are more likely to be targeted by bots and scams. You are also more likely to be harassed. Please be safe.
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mohammedaldeeb · 2 months ago
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A Humanitarian Appeal from the Depths of Suffering🥹:
The War on Gaza, Our Losses, and the Struggles We Endure
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In these difficult and painful times😔, I find it hard to find words that truly express the depth of the suffering I, 💔😓
along with my family, am going through. I am writing this message from a place of desperation and need, as a doctor working in a hospital in Gaza. Life here has become a constant battle for survival, and each day brings new challenges that test our will to continue😭.
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We were once living a peaceful and stable life🙂, building our hopes and dreams😥, working towards a future for ourselves and our loved ones🥺.
However, the recent war on Gaza has turned our world upside down😢. I have lost my job💔,
and with it, my only source of income, due to the destruction of the facilities where I worked😭.
The physical destruction around us has been devastating😓, and many projects I was involved in to support the families of patients have come to a halt😢. The economic losses are staggering, and the road to recovery seems almost impossible😥.
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The war on Gaza has not only taken our peace of mind but has also brought with it an unbearable level of suffering😓.
The cost of living has skyrocketed,
and we are struggling to meet even the most basic needs of daily life😣.
The situation has become unbearable, and it feels like we’re trapped in a vicious cycle of poverty, fear, and despair.
How can a family survive when they cannot even afford food, let alone the necessities of life?😭😥💔
As a doctor, I stand at the frontline, trying to save lives amidst the wreckage of war😢.
I treat the injured, manage critical cases, and do my best to bring comfort to those who need it most. 🥹
However, at the same time, I face personal struggles that are just as overwhelming😢. The hospital is in dire need of medical supplies and personnel, and we are doing all we can to save lives with limited resources. But the pain of seeing my own family suffering while I try to help others is a constant burden.
How can I help those in need when I cannot even provide for my loved ones?😣😣
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Today, as I face this immense struggle😔,
I turn to you, dear reader, with a plea for help🙏🏻😥.
This is not just a request for personal assistance🙏🏻🥹, but a desperate call for hope and a chance to rebuild my life and support my family.
I need your help to share my story😓, so that it reaches as many people as possible.
Your support, through donations and sharing this story, will allow me to help my family escape the horrors of war and start a new life abroad, where we can live in safety and dignity🙏🏻🥹❤️.
I need the resources to travel abroad to continue my education l😔and provide a future for my family🙏🏻😓. Pursuing my studies and advancing my career in medicine is my way of ensuring that I can make a lasting difference, both for myself and for the people of Gaza. But I cannot do this alone.
The funds I am seeking will help me cover travel expenses, medical costs for my family, and the basic needs that we are struggling to meet each day😥.
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The financial burden is overwhelming😭,
and without your support, I fear that my dreams, and the future of my family, will slip further out of reach😥😭💔.
Every donation, no matter how small, will make a difference.
Every act of kindness, every person who shares this message, will help light the way for us in this dark time🙏🏻😢.
I humbly ask you to help me spread this story. Share this story with your friends, family, and networks. Let it reach those who have the means and the will to help🥹🥺❤️.
Together, we can make a difference. Your kindness, your generosity, and your willingness to stand by us will mean the world💝🥹🙏🏻.
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In these dark times, solidarity is the light that can guide us😔💔. Your support is not just an act of charity; it is an act of humanity❤️❤️.
You are not only helping an individual, but you are also supporting a family in dire need of hope and a better future😃❤️.
I will forever be grateful for any assistance you can provide, whether it’s a financial contribution, sharing this story, or offering a kind word of encouragement.
Your help will give us the strength to continue, and it will remind us that in the midst of all this suffering, there is still hope, there is still kindness, and there are still people who care😃❤️.
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Thank you, from the bottom of my heart❤️❤️, for your time, your attention, and your compassion.
Together, we can create a future where we can live with dignity, rebuild what has been lost😔, and give our children the hope they deserve💝🥹🙏🏻.
Solidarity is Hope, and Helping is Life💚❤️💛🖤🇵🇸 .
vetted by \
@90-ghost (number 212)
@mangocheesecakes ,
@sayruq
@el-shab-hussein
@nabulsi
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cripplecharacters · 2 months ago
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Writing a Schizophrenic Character: Everything But Hallucinations
Plain text: Writing a Schizophrenic character: Everything But Hallucinations
Hey! Mod Bert here. 
So: you’ve decided to write a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder (there are other disorders on the schizophrenia spectrum but I will be focusing on these for today)
You’ve done it, you have their hallucinations and maybe even delusions picked out. Maybe they are one of many who experience auditory hallucinations or maybe they also have visual hallucinations or a combination. Maybe they have olfactory hallucinations as well. They may have persecutory delusions or delusions of reference or something like Cotard’s delusion or clinical lycanthropy. Awesome, you’ve done it!
What, I hear you say? What do you mean that’s only 2 of the 5 components needed to be diagnosed with schizophrenia? What do you mean, you don’t need to hallucinate at all to be schizophrenic?
What Goes Into a Diagnosis of Schizophrenia
Plain Text: What goes into a diagnosis of schizophrenia
Not a lot of people realize there’s more to schizophrenia and schizoaffective than just hallucinations or delusions. There are 5 diagnostic criterias that are needed for schizophrenia, and only 2 of the 5 are needed for a month, with larger symptoms happening for six months or more. Let’s get into it.
Delusions
Hallucinations
Disorganized speech or thinking*
Disorganized or unusual motor behavior (catatonia)*
Negative symptoms (avolition, anhedonia, flat affect)*
I’m going to focus on disorganized speech/thinking, catatonia, and negative symptoms.
Disorganized Speech/Thinking
Plain Text: Disorganized Speech/Thinking
Schizophrenia and related disorders are often called “thought disorders” for a reason. Speech and thinking can be extremely affected, and for people like me this can be one of the first and most striking examples of an episode coming. Some people will always have disorganized symptoms that will flare during episodes. A myth is that schizophrenia can be indistinguishable with medicine: most people will have some level of symptoms even during moments of peace or “remission”. More on remission later. 
So, disorganized speech. Some examples are: word salad (schizoaphasia), thought blocking, poverty of speech (alogia), pressurized speech, clanging, and echolalia.
Word salad: a combination of words that do not make sense together. Often called schizoaphasia for its similarity to jargon in Wernicke’s aphasia, this is instead a disconnection with the brain and not due to damage to the language part of the brain.
(Example: the salad would be yellow in the fat cow).
Thought blocking: A severe loss of thought, often paired with connecting two trains of thought that are not connected
(Example: I went to the………Do you like grapes?)
Poverty of speech: A lack of organic responses to speech or organically speaking, it can be severe enough that a person only responds to questions or in one word responses. Can also happen in severe depression.
(Example: Person A: Did you do anything fun today?
Person B: Yes.
Person A: Oh, what did you do?
Person B: Store
Person A: How was it?
Person B: Fun)
Pressurized speech: A sort of frenzied way of speaking associated with psychosis or mania.
Clanging: Connecting phrases together because of what they sound like instead of meaning
(Example: I went bent tent rent).
Echolalia: Repeating word’s and phrases. Commonly also associated with Autism Spectrum Disorder. 
(Example: Person A: I went to the store.
Person B: To the store.)
These are not the only examples but they are some ones I thought I'd highlight, either because they’re well known or I have experience with them, or because they’re famously thought of with other disorders as well and I wanted to point out how things overlap.
Personal experience: I had severe alogia for the duration of my last and worst episode. People thought I was mad at them because of the clipped way I spoke and the lack of really speaking. It got me in a lot of trouble. I didn’t realize what I was saying was different or weird (I have the least insight when it comes to my speaking patterns affected by my schizoaffective, meaning I can’t hear any difference and all of this is from repeated conversations with my mom, who was my caretaker for a bit and knows the most about my speech and what it means). The best solution was talking with people and being honest and educating myself and others. I don’t know about others, but I couldn’t have used AAC at that time.
Catatonia
Plain text: Catatonia
Fun fact: catatonia means unusual motor behaviors! Any unusual motor behaviors mean catatonia. This includes what we think of when we think of catatonia in schizophrenia (inability to move) as well as the opposite (being unable to stop moving) as well as strange movements and ways of holding and moving the body! Catatonia in the DSM-5 includes 3 or more of these 12 behaviors:
-Agitation unrelated to external stimuli
-Catalepsy
-Echolalia
-Echopraxia
-Grimacing
-Mannerism
-Mutism
-Negativism
-Posturing
-Stereotypy
-Stupor
-waxy flexibility
I have some experiences with catatonia-like symptoms but since they were never identified as such I’ll skip those for now. I will say that catatonia is a symptom that can happen in many disorders besides schizophrenia as well.
Negative Symptoms! Yay!
Plain text: negative symptoms! Yay!
So a positive symptom (Hallucinations or delusions) are symptoms that add something to reality or a person. Negative symptoms are symptoms that take away. There are 5 A’s:
-Alogia (Again, poverty of speech, our favorite)
-Avolition (Lack of energy and motivation)
-Affect (Blunted affect, or a flat way of speaking)
-Anhedonia (Lack of pleasure in things that used to bring you pleasure, often thought of with depression)
-Asociality (Lack of interest in social events and relationships)
There are also often cognitive changes including thinking and memory, information recall, understanding, and acquisition, and so forth. 
Schizophrenia and schizoaffective often (but not always) happen with what’s called a prodromal period. This period can be months to years (mine was a little less than a year) and mainly consists of negative symptoms. Slowly, positive symptoms are added. There are thought to be stages to schizophrenia including prodrome, active phases, and remission.
I’ll talk about that a little for a second because I’m currently in remission and no one knows what that means. I was diagnosed with schizoaffective depressive type in January 2021. As of February 2024, I no longer qualified to be rediagnosed because my symptoms were strongly under control and no longer severe enough to qualify for a diagnosis. They also didn’t distress me or impact my daily life severely. Day to day now I still have mild symptoms and take my antipsychotics (trying to go off them have made it clear that I still have some symptoms I choose to keep medicating) but I haven’t had a delusion in 2 years and been hospitalized in 3. There’s always a possibility of another episode but I work with my team to keep myself one step ahead if that happens.
What I want from a character with schizophrenia
Plain Text: What I want from a character with schizophrenia
Alright the writing advice part. What do I want from a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective (which is schizophrenia plus either depression or bipolar). 
-Characters with caregivers.
-Characters using coping strategies (recording hallucinations to tell if theyre hallucinations, taking medication, having service animals that greet people so they know if they’re a hallucination, using aids for the cognitive symptoms like sticky notes and organizational tools)
-Characters who know other characters with their disorder, either online or in support group or through running in similar circles
-Characters having autonomy
-Characters who aren’t the killer or horror victim. I know it’s cool to have the schizophrenic protagonist in horror, and I love horror, but I don’t want to read about the horror being symptoms the whole time
-Characters who are in magical scenarios, who are in fantasy and sci-fi. The schizophrenic princess and the schizoaffective robot technician aboard the spaceship.
-Medication and hospitalization treated casually. Sometimes we need higher care. That’s morally neutral
-Characters with negative symptoms and speech symptoms.
-Characters with catatonia! 
-Characters with other disorders as well
-characters with side effects from medicine treated casually
-Characters with cognitive symptoms
Thank you for reading this incredibly long thing! Happy writing!
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darknight3904 · 1 year ago
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It Burns For You
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.
"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears
A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.
"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask
He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.
"I already ate it." He lied
"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.
"Is it your first day?" He asks
"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said
Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.
You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words
"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."
The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.
"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.
"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said
Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.
"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "
And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.
"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.
Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.
He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.
"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds
"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.
"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says
"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks
He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.
"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."
His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.
"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."
Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.
He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,
"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"
He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.
Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.
"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking
You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.
"What're you doing?" You ask quietly
"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.
The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.
"Coryo...what was that?" You ask
"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip
"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask
"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."
Part 2 is out now!
Series Masterlist
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mostlysignssomeportents · 27 days ago
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MLMs are the mirror-world version of community organizing
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/05/power-of-positive-thinking/#the-socialism-of-fools
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In her unmissable 2023 book Doppelganger, Naomi Klein paints a picture of a "mirror world" of right wing and conspiratorial beliefs that are warped, false reflections of real crises:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine
For example, Qanon's obsession with "child trafficking" is a mirror-world version of the real crises of child poverty, child labor, border family separations and kids in cages. Anti-vax is the mirror-world version of the true story of the Sacklers and their fellow opioid barons making billions on Oxy and fent, with the collusion of corrupt FDA officials and a pliant bankruptcy court system. Xenophobic panic about "immigrants stealing jobs" is the mirror world version of the well-documented fact that big business shipped jobs to low-waged territories abroad, weakening US labor and smashing US unions. Cryptocurrency talk about "decentralization" is the mirror-world version of the decay of every industry (including tech) into a monopoly or a cartel.
Klein is at pains to point out that other political thinkers have described this phenomenon. Back in the 19th century, leftists called antisemitism "the socialism of fools." Socialism – the idea that working people are preyed upon by capital – is reflected in the warped mirror as "working people are preyed upon by international Jewish bankers."
The mirror world is a critical concept, because it shows that far right and conspiratorial beliefs are often uneasy neighbors with real, serious political movements. The swivel-eyed loons have a point, in other words:
https://locusmag.com/2023/05/commentary-cory-doctorow-the-swivel-eyed-loons-have-a-point/
Once you understand the mirror world, you start to realize that many right wing conspiracists could have been directed into productive movements, if only they'd understood that their problems were with systems, not sinister individuals (this is why Trump has ordered a purge of any federally funded research that contains the word "systemic"):
https://mamot.fr/@[email protected]/113943287435897828
This also explains why the "tropes" of right wing conspiratorialism sometimes echo left wing, radical thought. I once had a (genuinely unhinged) dialog with a self-described German "progressive" who told me that criticizing the finance industry as parasitic on the real economy was "structurally antisemitic." Nonsense like this is why Klein's "mirror world" is so important: unless you understand the mirror world, you can end up believing that "progressive" just means "defending anything the right hates."
Historian Erik Baker is the author of a new book, Make Your Own Job: How the Entrepreneurial Work Ethic Exhausted America, which has some very interesting things to say about the mirror world:
https://www.hup.harvard.edu/books/9780674293601
In a recent edition of the always-excellent Know Your Enemy podcast, the hosts interviewed Baker about the book, and the conversation turned to the subject of pyramid schemes, the "multilevel marketing systems" that are woven into so many religious, right-wing movements:
https://www.dissentmagazine.org/blog/know-your-enemy-the-entrepreneurial-ethic/
MLMs have it all: prosperity gospel ("God rewards virtue with wealth"), atomization ("you are an entrepreneur and everyone in your life is your potential customer"), and rabid anti-Communism ("solidarity is a trick to make you poorer").
The rise of the far right can't be separated from the history of MLMs. The modern MLM starts with Amway, a cultlike national scam that was founded by Jay Van Andel and Richard DeVos (father-in-law of Betsy DeVos).
Rank-and-file members of the Amway cult lived in dire poverty, convinced that their financial predicament was their own fault for not faithfully following the "sure-fire" Amway method for building a business. Andrea Pitzer's gripping memoir of growing up in an Amway household offers a glimpse of the human cost of the cult:
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2025/01/amway-america/681479/?gift=j9r7avb6p-KY8zdjhsiSZxYkntna5M_rYEv4707Zqqs
Amway – and MLMs like it – don't just bleed out their members by convincing them to buy mountains of useless crap they're supposed to sell to their families, while enriching the people at the top of the pyramid who sell it to them. The "toxic positivity" of multi-level marketing cults forces members deep into debt to pay for seminars and retreats where they are supposed to learn how to repair the personal defects that keep them from being "successful entrepreneurs." The topline of the cult isn't just getting rich selling stuff – they're making bank by selling false hope, literally, in Hilton ballrooms and convention centers across the country, where hearing an MLM scammer berate you for being a "bad entrepreneur" costs thousands of dollars.
Amway destroyed so many lives that Richard Nixon's FTC decided to investigate it. The investigation wasn't going well for Amway, which was facing an existential crisis that they were rescued from by Nixon's resignation. You see, Nixon's successor, Gerald Ford, was the former Congressman of Amway co-founder Jay Van Andel, who was also the head of the US Chamber of Commerce, the most powerful business lobbyist in America.
At Ford's direction, the FTC exonerated Amway of all wrongdoing. But it's even worse than that: Ford's FTC actually crafted a rule that differentiated legal pyramid schemes from illegal ones, based on Amway's destructive business practices. Under this new rule, any pyramid scheme that had the same structure as Amway was presumptively legal. Every MLM operating in America today is built on the Amway model, taking advantage of the FTC's Amway rule to operate in the open, without fear of legal repercussions.
MLMs prey on the poor and desperate: women, people of color, people in dying small towns and decaying rustbelt cities. It's not just that these people are desperate – it's that they only survive through networks of mutual aid. Poor women rely on other poor women to help with child care, marginalized people rely on one another for help with home maintenance, small loans, a place to crash after an eviction, or a place to park the RV you're living out of.
In other words, people who lack monetary capital must rely on social capital for survival. That's why MLMs target these people: an MLM is a system for destructively transforming social capital into monetary capital. MLMs exhort their members to mine their social relationships for "leads" and "customers" and to use the language of social solidarity ("women helping women") to wheedle, guilt, and arm-twist people from your mutual aid network into buying things they don't need and can't afford.
But it's worse, because what MLMs really sell is MLMs. The real purpose of an MLM sales call is to convince the "customer" to become an MLM salesperson, who owes you a share of every sale they make and is incentivized to buy stock they don't need (from you) in order to make quotas. And of course, their real job is to sign up other salespeople to work under them, and so on.
An MLM isn't just a pathogen, in other words – it's a contagion. When someone in your social support network gets the MLM disease, they don't just burn all their social ties with you and the people you rely on – they convince more people in your social group to do the same.
Which brings me back to the mirror world, and Erik Baker's conversation with the Know Your Enemy podcast. Baker starts to talk about who gets big into Amway: "people who already effectively lead by the force of their charisma and personality many other people in their lives. Right? Because you're able to sell to those people, and you're able to recruit those people. What are we talking about? Well, they're effectively recruiting organizers, people who have a natural capacity for organizing and then sending them out in the world to organize on behalf of Christian capitalism."
Listening to this, I was thunderstruck: MLM recruiters are the mirror world version of union organizers. In her memoir of growing up in Amway, Andrea Pitzer talks about how her mom would approach strangers and try to lead them through a kind of structured discussion:
Everywhere we went—the mall, state parks, grocery stores—she’d ask people whether they could use a little more money each month. “I’d love to set up a time to talk to you about an exciting business opportunity.” The words should have seemed suspect. Yet people almost always gave her their number. Her confidence and professionalism were reassuring, and her enthusiasm was electric, even, at first, to me. “What would you do with $1 million?” she’d ask, spinning me around the kitchen.
This kind of person, having this kind of dialog, is exactly how union organizers work. In A Collective Bargain, Jane McAlevey's classic book on labor organizing, she describes how she would seek out the charismatic, outgoing workers in a job-site, the natural leaders, and recruit them to help bring the other workers onboard:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/
Organizer training focuses on how to have a "structured organizing conversation," which McAlevey described in a 2019 Jacobin article:
“If you had a magic wand and could change three things about life in America [or her town or city or school], what would you change?” The rest of your conversation needs to be anchored to her answers to that question.
https://jacobin.com/2019/11/thanksgiving-organizing-activism-friends-family-conversation-presidential-election
The MLM conversation and the union conversation have eerily similar structures, but the former is designed to commodify and destroy solidarity, and the latter is designed to reinforce and mobilize solidarity. Seen in this light, an MLM is a mirror world union, one that converts solidarity into misery and powerlessness instead of joy and strength.
The MLM movement doesn't just make men like Rich De Vos and Jay Van Andel into billionaires. MLM bosses are heavy funders of the right, a blank check for the Heritage Foundation. Trump is the MLM president, a grifter who grew up on the gospel of Norman Vincent Peale – a key figure in MLM cult dynamics – who tells his followers that wealth is a sign of virtue. Trump boasts about all the people he's ripped off, boasting about how getting away with cheating "makes me smart":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth
The corollary is that being cheated means you're stupid. Caveat emptor, the motto of the cryptocurrency industry ("not your wallet, not your coins") that spent hundreds of millions to get Trump elected.
Tech has its own mirror world. The people who used tech to find fellow weirdos and make delightful and wonderful things are mirrored by the people who used tech to find fellow weirdos and call for fascism, ethnic cleansing, and concentration camps.
In Picks and Shovels, my next novel (Feb 17), I introduce readers to a fictitious 1980s religious computer sales cult called Fidelity Computing, run by an orthodox rabbi, a Catholic priest and a Mormon rabbi:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865908/picksandshovels
Fidelity is a faith scam, a pyramid scheme that is parasitic upon the bonds of faith and fellowship. Martin Hench, the hero of the story – a hard-fighting high tech forensic accountant – goes to work for a competing business, Computing Freedom, run by three Fidelity ex-employees who have left their faiths and their employers to pursue a vision of computers that is about liberation, rather than control.
The women of Computing Freedom – a queer orthodox woman who's been kicked out of her family, a Mormon woman who's renounced the LDS over its opposition to the Equal Rights Amendment, and a nun who's left her order to throw in with the Liberation Theology movement – are all charismatic, energetic, inspirational organizers.
Because of course they are – that's why they were so good at selling computers for the Reverend Sirs who sit at the top of Fidelity Computing's pyramid scheme.
Hearing Baker's interview and reading Pitzer's memoir last week made it all click together for me. Not just that MLMs destroy social bonds, but that within every person who gets sucked into an MLM, there's a community organizer who could be building the bonds that MLMs destroy.
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bogleech · 2 years ago
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Like genuinely it is unquantifiably fucked up insane horror how many times the U.S. government has deliberately created fascist dictatorships and enabled genocides and funded terrorism all over the world in order to just weaken other nations or force them to depend on our own military for help, and how this isn’t a conspiracy theory but openly available public information, but neither right wing nor left wing journalism breathes a word about it and there’s no ongoing outrage or backlash against it from within this country nor is it discussed in most public education settings. It only ever gets addressed at all by independent authors, comedians, cartoonists and bloggers. It gets passed around in clickbait articles as Fucked Up History Trivia though it still continues even now and the aftermath of even the earliest cases is still killing and oppressing people. There are entire generations of multiple countries growing up in poverty and misery because of Henry Kissinger alone.
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spatialwave · 3 months ago
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"my ambition" - part three | the prequel
➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 4.5k ➸ tags: mdni! minimal nsfw, fluffly, poly relationship, relationship beginnings, blossoming love, s1 act 1, no mention of y/n, alcohol use. ➸ notes: so excited to get this out! had a fun time giving this relationship history and i spent way too much time overthinking whether the ending was too rushed or if it was too self-indulgent... and then i realized its a fic so i get to do what i want LOL! pls let me know if you would like more parts, or if you want some drabbles about this specific trio. i would really appreciate it.🥹
<- part 2
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You had always been academically gifted. Rising to the top of your classes each semester, pushing aside anyone in your way. Especially for a young woman, who had been accepted into the Academy before you had even finished your secondary schooling – a gifted student with the proudest of parents and professors.
Born with an influx of ambition flowing through your veins, knowing from a young age your duties to the world. It took more than wordy false promises to make a difference to Runeterra, it took action. That’s why you vowed to help Zaun.
What better way to take action, than to help those who had been long forgotten about. You were smart enough to see the way the city had been tossed aside, forgotten about, while Piltover only continued to grow and thrive. There was sickness festering underneath, people dying because of the less-than living conditions and poverty that swallowed it whole.
There were many days when you wondered if it was too much, if you, as a topsider, could actually make a difference. Would anyone want your help? The bigger question being – how were you going to help?
Then, you met Viktor. 
That was when your ambition rose higher than ever. A smart, young man a handful of years older than you – a man from Zaun himself. The youngest assistant to the dean, a title that was hard to come by, and rather jealousy inducing.
You’d weaseled your way into his life quite easily, finding him in the halls and striking conversation whenever you could. He was polite, and good at slipping away when your attention became overbearing. You couldn’t help your over-excitement for a scholar from the undercity. Someone who matched your levels of ambition. Someone who was able to teach you about the place that had been nothing more than whispers and off-hand comments by your peers.
You fell in love. Quickly, and hard.
Viktor, too. It was your smile, your innate excitement, the genuine intrigue you had of him and how he was able to share the experiences of chronic illness with someone who wasn’t just a damned doctor – someone who understood the pain. How could he not fall in love?
Viktor found himself appreciating you more and more with each passing day, wondering when you’d sneak through the halls to find him to share your newest revelation.
Wondering when he could be expected to be pulled into a broom closet so you could ravage his lips with your own. He hadn’t been so experienced with romance until you appeared in his life, content with focusing on his studies at the academy. You changed the trajectory of his life—and so had Jayce.
-
”Hextech?” You raised an eyebrow, sitting on a stone bench within the academy courtyard and holding a half-eaten apple in your hand, “I don’t know. Sounds… unstable,” you murmured honestly, looking between Viktor’s eyes as he stood in front of you. You took another bite, the sweet flavour calming you.
You had to admit, as much as you were uncomfortable with this new scientific breakthrough, so to speak, you had never seen Viktor quite this excited about anything.
“Precisely,” Viktor said, eyes practically shimmering as he spoke to you, “that’s why you’re going to help.”
“No way,” you huffed, standing on your feet and waving him away, “you just told me that all the work got confiscated, how the hell would I even help?” You spoke in a hushed whisper, as if Heimerdinger himself was listening in to the conversation.
“Eh, confiscated is a loose term,” he said, taking a step toward you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You tensed at the touch, turning your head from his gaze and shaking your head adamantly.
You had morals, and perhaps you listened to the dean a bit too much at times. Science was incredible, but ethics were important, and the explosion was proof that it was an unpredictable type of magic. If Heimerdinger made the call that hextech was unsafe, a yordle with decades over your own experiences, then you should listen, no?
“It has the capabilities of helping more than just the city,” he urged, fingers tightening on your shoulder, “Please. Let us show you.”
Those words tugged at your heartstrings, leaving you conflicted as your heart yearned to know more. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily as your mind reeled at all the possibilities.
The first image to pop in your mind was the proper union of Zaun and Piltover, an incredible feat that no one could ever pull off. No more distinction between the two – just one beautiful place to live. Your dream.
Could hextech really be the key?
“Fine,” you sighed, crinkling your nose and opening your eyes, “but I’m under no obligation to like this Jayce guy, he sounds like he doesn’t know how to properly take care of his research.” You looked up at Viktor through your lashes, watching the way the corners of his lips curved into a small smile, “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Crank it!” Jayce exclaimed from his chair, eyes full of childlike wonder, as Viktor stood at the chalkboard, crossing through equations and murmuring about the research he was still properly acquainting himself with.
You, however, stood next to Jayce, chewing hard on your bottom lip as your partner agreed with his words.
It all seemed fine, plausible, even. Yet, you remained apprehensive.
“And it if it doesn’t stabilize, what then? Part two of the great blue explosion that destroyed your apartment?” You asked, eyes focusing on the man sitting, his honey-coloured eyes shining as they watched you. Your stomach twisted tight, hating the way he made you fill with butterflies.
You knew him for less than twenty-four hours, and he already had you twisted around his fingers. Gods.
It was completely unfair to be caught between them both.
“It’s worth a test,” he was adamant, then a sigh left his lips, “but we don’t have access to my equipment.”
“Which is being destroyed tomorrow,” Viktor murmured, eyes back on the chalkboard and fingers touching his chin as he was lost deep in thought.
You jumped when Jayce stood quickly, the chair he sat on nearly toppling over.
“What?” he asked, panic rising in his throat.
“Oh, yeah,” Viktor cringed, looking over his shoulder at Jayce, “Sorry. I meant to tell you.”
You could sense the way Jayce was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, his breath hitching in his throat as he rambled on about how it was his life work, how they could show the council the equations to show them the proof. There had to be something!
But Viktor was right, proof wasn’t reliable on paper. They needed physical proof. A real test.
“We can’t do it without the crystals. The enforcers took them all, they’re gone,” Jayce ran his hands over his face as he collapsed onto the chair once more, deflated from the situation.
Your hand rested atop his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, much like Viktor did with you when you were overworked. Jayce flickered his gaze to you, those puppy-like eyes offering a silent ‘thank-you’.
“Mhm,” Viktor hummed, “locked away in Heimerdinger’s lab,” he continued, eyes settling on you.
“No,” you were quick to know where he was going with this, “Count me out, we are not breaking in.”
“She’s right,” Jayce said, eyes widening, “you heard the council, if we’re wrong–”
“Better be right then,” Viktor interrupted, and Jayce’s eyes sparkled with possibility.
You felt a tightness in your chest, shaking your head as you took a step back. The two of them spoke back and forth, but you hadn’t been listening. Just as you reached the boiling point, you turned on your heels and took a step away, but Jayce was quick to turn his attention back to you. He stepped forward, hand grabbing your wrist, and you felt your heart jump up into your throat.
“Stay,” he pleaded, hand tightening.
You huffed a loud sigh through your nostrils, brows creasing together and lifting. Gods, why did he have to be so goddamned charming? You hardly noticed the curious look that Viktor gave you two before rolling his eyes and turning back to the chalkboard. The smirk on his lips well hidden.
“Fine!” You snapped, pulling your arm from his grip, “but if we get caught I’m telling everyone that you two made me do it. I am not taking the fall for this.”
Jayce grinned, a toothy smile that lit your cheeks aflame, “Deal.”
You stayed a few feet behind the two men, arms crossed over your chest, as you careened through the halls quietly. You were hardly a rule breaker, in fact, usually a stickler for keeping peace. It was in your nature, like many topsiders.
When the three of you reached the door, you felt panic rising as footsteps echoed down the hall from where you had just come from.
“Shit,” Jayce whispered, “hurry.”
Viktor was fiddling with the keys, fingers filtering through them until he found the one for Heimerdinger’s lab. With practiced ease, he slipped the key into the door lock, twisting back and forth until it clicked.
Both you and Jayce were standing side-by-side, watching a flashlight in the distance, pointing in your direction, but too far to pick up on the three figures breaking in.
Viktor opened the door, and they stepped inside, but you were frozen. Unable to tear your gaze away from the enforcer that had been doing patrols and walking right toward you.
“Ah!” You gasped when there was a harsh tug on your arm, stumbling into the laboratory and crashing against Jayce’s chest. Viktor closed the door behind you without even the slightest creaking – a perfectly silent entrance.
“You've never broken a rule in your life, have you?” Jayce smiled, eyes watching you with curiosity as you pulled away from him yet again. You opened your mouth to answer but Viktor cut you off.
“She is a law-abiding citizen,” he answered, supporting himself on his cane as he walked further into the lab, looking around for the confiscated equipment.
“Can you guys keep it down? They’ll hear us.” You whispered, pushing past Jayce. Annoyed, and thankful the redness on your cheeks wasn’t visible in the darkened room.
“Huh,” Jayce grinned in response to Viktor, walking behind you as he looked around the lab, “you’re not kidding.”
“Shut up.” You hissed.
Settling in the lab, you stood off to the side, peering at some of Heimerdinger’s books as Jayce scrambled to find the pieces of his work. You listened to the sounds of the electrical whirring as he welded the parts back together, lost in thought as your fingers traced over the spine of a book.
A hand lifted to the small of your back, startling you for a moment.
“Sorry,” Viktor murmured, eyes watching you.
“It’s okay,” you chuckled, smiling as you leaned against him. Silence grew between you two as you slowly dropped your hand from the bookcase. You glanced at Viktor, biting down on the inside of your lip in habit, “Do you think hextech really has the strength to help people? Like us?”
Those honey-eyes softened as they flickered over your nervous expression, and he nodded, “I do.”
With a deep inhale, you tried to let go of your apprehension to the situation. This was for the best. If you wanted to reach your dreams, you had to run over a few toes, right?
“It’s all here,” Jayce called from his spot at the table, pulling the goggles off of his face and turning to look over at you two.
Viktor held up a blue hextech crystal to you, one from the handful that was confiscated, and when you offered him a questionable look, he insisted with the forward movement of his hand. Slowly, you reached out and took it in your fingers, feeling the rigid orb press against your skin.
This was it.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek before making your way to Jayce, who had been looking at you two with a small smile.
“Here,” you said, offering the crystal with an open palm as you stood next to him, Viktor coming up beside you.
Jayce reached out, taking the crystal, but not without a lingering touch to your hand. Viktor took notice, a sparkle in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed as you watched in curiosity as the hextech crystal was placed into the machinery.
It glowed a bright blue hue, sparks from the crystal illuminating the room. You had never seen anything so beautiful.
“It’s time to crank it!” Viktor said excitedly as he snapped close one of Jayce’s notebooks he had spent time looking through the past few days, looking in front of you and toward Jayce.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He asked, growing uncertain as Viktor sucked back a breath and shook his head.
“Do it,” you interjected, eyes wide as you stared at the beauty of the hextech. The inner scientist in you couldn’t be tamed any longer, you needed to see what this could do. It was almost addicting, and you couldn’t look away. It had sucked you in completely, “you have to try.”
They shared a look between each other, swallowing lumps down their throats. Viktor leaned forward, pressing the button of the machine, and it began to spin. It gained enough speed that it created a constant blow of wind that pushed your hair back wildly – electric currents flying wildly.
“I don’t think it’s going to hold!” Jayce said loudly, the electrical crackling of the machine deafening all other noses, “look at the buildup!”
“The resonance will stabilize it, trust me,” Viktor returned, sharing a thoughtful look with Jayce, an attempt to calm him.
You, however, were unable to look away. You stared at the wild glows of blue, a smile on your face, and blissfully unaware of the enforcers that were making their way up to the laboratory after seeing the blue light shining from the windows of the lab.
Moments later, the chaos settled, and you gasped with a big smile, hands slamming on the tabletop, “this is incredible!” You exclaimed in awe, watching as it stabilized.
Viktor smiled to himself, his hand finding your back yet again, “told you it would work,” he said encouragingly, eyes flickering to Jayce, “all yours.”
“It’s never done that before,” he murmured to himself, unable to tear his gaze from the slowly spinning crystal that sent waves of electricity to the surrounding runes, “...alright. Here we go.”
Hesitantly, he reached to the button Viktor had pressed, twisting the knob several times, so the surrounding runes began to spin and orbit the crystal.
You watched expectantly as Jayce twisted it over and over, creating different pathways for the crystal to spark energy. You couldn’t help but lean closer, even when the out flowing electricity stung your cheeks.
What the three of you hadn’t expected was a surge of energy to blast out, nearly toppling you all and breaking the lab’s windows. Within the impact, you fell right into Jayce with a yelp. Strong arms wrapped around you as he reached for the knob, and you clung to him, face buried into his chest.
The energy was strong, and for a moment you prepared for the untimely death of three scientists who just wanted to change lives. How fitting.
Then, the glass from the window flew back into place, as though time around you reversed, causing a brief moment of respite and enough time for Jayce to push forward and slam his hand on the button. The crystal fell back into place, and you were all able to breathe.
Slowly, you peeled yourself away from Jayce, feeling around your face and body to make sure your body was still completely intact.
“Incredible,” Viktor beamed, smiling, “we need to try again.”
You and Jayce shared a look, silently agreeing that it was now or never. And for you, there was no more backing out.
This time, you took a few steps back, not wanting to be caught up in the aftermath of a worse explosion, but still curious enough to peek over their shoulders. As you settled back, you swore you heard sounds coming from the hallway, but it was hard to tell over the crackling sounds of the hextech.
Pressing your ear against the door, you closed your eyes to focus, and you gasped.
“Someone’s coming,” you told them, hands holding the doorknob tight, “you better hurry.”
Viktor took a few steps to the door, sliding his cane through the handles of the door so it was snug, “better than nothing.”
The two of you shared a startled gasp, the rattling of the door loud when the enforcers reached the door and began to hit it with force, kicking and yelling for you to open up. Heimerdinger was with them.
“Stop this lunacy at once!” He called from beyond the door, and your gut twisted in guilt.
A few more heavy kicks and the door creaked.
“They’re almost through,” Viktor said, turning around back to Jayce’s side, “no pressure.”
“That sounds like pressure!” Jayce yelled, working hard to synchronize the runes with the knob. He looked over his shoulder at you, who was now pressing against the door with your weight. With each kick of the door, you huffed, doing your best to keep them from pushing it in.
A rather heavy kick caused you to stumble, but you got right back to it, watching over your shoulder as Jayce closed his eyes and focused on the hextech. 
Your attention was pulled back to the door when the cane cracked, and you tried to push against the door, but it was no use. One more kick and you’d be goners.
But the hextech won.
The sound of another surge pushed you against the door, and you panicked at the intensity that felt like it was going to crush you, and then suddenly… you were weightless. You turned to Jayce and Viktor, eyes wide, as you all had begun to float up into the air.
After one more kick, they broke inside, but the surge reached them, too. They stumbled back, while you had started laughing.
It was incredible, absolutely incredible.
“Excuse me, underfoot,” Heimerdinger spoke, pushing past the enforcer and stepping inside his lab, gasping when his eyes landed on you three.
You were nearly touching the ceiling, floating with your belly to the ground and caught slowly spinning between Jayce and Viktor. Your giggles erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to control it as you twisted around in the air. 
Jayce flicked a piece of metal, where it floated through a glowing blue orb that was just above you, and it shot out right at Viktor. You collectively gasped, taking everything in.
This was magic and science blurred together, a medley of perfection. Hextech worked. You did it!
“Will you please stop hovering?” Heimerdinger spoke, looking up as you spun your body around, touching and prodding at debris.
It was like swimming, you were able to push yourself, and you accidentally collided against Jayce, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t quite place it, but as your eyes caught his, you felt something – like a mutual intrigue of each other. Was attraction too strong of a word? Your cheeks reddened, matching his own, then he cleared his throat and turned his gaze away.
“I’m not sure how to do that, sir,” Viktor finally responded, pushing toward you both and smiling as the three of you moved around together smoothly, not touching. Floating. Feeling free.
Like all things in life, it didn’t last. The surged power of the hextech settled, and thankfully it was a smooth descend that kept you three from any broken bones.
Viktor had been wrangled by Heimerdinger, only after a good verbal lashing that included you and Jayce. Blabbering about the rules, ethics and how dangerous this was. At the end, your partner had been whisked away for damage control, trying to explain everything and to keep any of you three from penalties and punishments.
It left you and Jayce to clean up, gathering everything together into the back area of the lab, still in awe over everything that had happened.
Once finished, you stepped out into the brisk night air first, somehow still chipper enough to bounce down the steps while Jayce hustled behind you. You hadn’t been so inclined to do goodbyes, but he stopped you with a hand on your wrist, much like earlier. It sent a shiver up your arm.
“Wait,” he said, and you faced him, battling the redness that crept up your neck as you tried to remain composed, “will you stay?” he asked, grip loosening on your wrist, “to help us, I mean.”
“With the hextech? Of course,” you answered, rolling your eyes playfully, “Who in their right mind would see that and not want to explore it? That was incredible, Jayce. You should be really proud of yourself.”
A smile lifted at the corners of his cheeks, the compliment doing wonders to the insecurities that lie deep within him.
“Wanted to make sure,” he eventually said, dropping your wrist as you both ventured away and into Piltover, toward your homes, “I like you. Well, I mean – you’re good to have around. Smart, you know.”
A giggle bubbled up, a hand lifting to your mouth to try to stifle it, “you’re a dork, just like Viktor.”
Jayce smiled at you, biting down on his bottom lip as the two of you ventured down the streets together, “how long have you two been together?”
The question was quick to fluster you as you met Jayce’s curious gaze. You wondered if the question accidentally slipped out, and you could ignore it, but you could tell he was waiting for an answer.
“Oh, uh, just a couple of months. Officially.” You answered shyly, hands clasped behind your back as you walked side-by-side.
“That’s nice,” he murmured, “...so, has he always been so absurdly intense about science? Don’t get me wrong, I like everything about his ambitions, he’s a great guy for even wanting to help me. He’s just—“
“Surprisingly eccentric?” You laughed, nodding, “when he gets excited about something, it’s like his brain goes haywire. I suppose that’s the way of being an ambitious innovator”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Jayce smiled, quietly admiring you in the moonlight. Studying and memorizing everything he could.
The two of you ended up walking around aimlessly, indulging in small chatter as you shared your hopes and dreams. You shared nearly everything you could about your life, and he told his story about him and his mother, and how that sparked his discovery towards hextech. It was easy to talk to Jayce, to get lost in his voice – he was just so damned kind.
Nearly an hour passed when you finally approached your apartment, which was rather close to the Academy. The two of you had simply taken a few detours around the neighbouring streets.
“Trust me, if you want to get on the dean’s good side, then you need to…” your voice drifted off when your eyes settled on a certain individual sitting outside on a stone bench. Broken cane in his hand and looking up at the sky. “Viktor!” You called out, rushing ahead, “if I had known you were coming back to mine, I would’ve hurried back.”
He turned to look at you two, raising a curious eyebrow and smirking as Jayce slowed his pace behind you, “I have only been here a few minutes, it’s all right.”
You dug around for your keys in your pocket, walking up to him and outstretching an arm for support as he stood. He could walk relatively okay without his cane, but you still enjoyed the way he would lean on you. It became habitual between you two.
“I should leave you both to it,” Jayce cleared his throat, giving an awkward wave as you two ventured toward the apartment.
“Why don’t you come in?” Viktor asked, motioning for him to follow.
You looked up at him in interest, figuring the two of you would be falling asleep the moment you got inside. Nonetheless, you went along with it.
“No, no, it’s late. I don’t want to overstay–”
“Come inside, Jayce. We don’t bite.”
Viktor was convincing enough, or perhaps Jayce had too much of a soft spot for him because he was quick to accept the invitation.
It ended up being a great night, the three of you crowding around your kitchen table. Drinking some nicely aged wine you had hidden away for only the most important occasions. You celebrated your shared success and discussed everything hextech, the possibilities and what you hoped it would provide. You shared laughs, especially as the night went on, and you had all begun to feel a bit delirious at times as the sun began lighting the sky above the horizon and the wine settled in your stomachs.
“Well, I hate to be the one to end the night,” you smiled, sleep beginning to win its war over you, “I’m tired and sore, I should get some sleep.”
“Yeah, I should get back to mine, or, what’s left of it,” Jayce agreed with a dampened chuckle, eyes flickering out of the window to gauge the time with the colour of the skyline.
“Why don’t you stay the night?” The question fell from your lips much too quickly, unsure if it was your overt politeness or an underlying desire that lead it, “if you’re okay with that.” You shot your gaze to Viktor.
It felt like hours, but the few seconds you took to share a look said lots. A silent agreement about your shared feelings for Jayce.
“Sure,” he answered. A shy smile tugged at your lips, and your lover turned back to Jayce.
The man seemed a bit uncertain, and maybe a bit too tipsy to understand the looks thrown at him. His amber eyes jumped between you two, “I’ve intruded far too mu–”
“Stay.” Your voice mixed with Viktor’s almost too perfectly, in complete synchronization.
“Okay.”
The night became a blur. It was Viktor who had led you both to the bedroom, the wine clouding all judgment from the three parties and allowing you to just be. To indulge in each other without wondering what would come next. To allow yourselves to act on attraction and lust with nothing holding you back.
“I’m glad you stayed,” you murmured, lips lingering along the stubble on Jayce’s jawline. Viktor, who was behind you, peppered kisses along your bare shoulders.
“Me too,” Jayce breathed in response, hands careening your naked body and intertwining with Viktor’s fingers with they met over your hip.
“Let’s stop talking,” Viktor mumbled with a quick nip at your skin, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
Jayce wasn’t quite certain how he managed to be wrangled in by you both, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when, for once, everything felt right.
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basma-ramez · 7 months ago
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Save us from the genocide we deserve to live in peace
Hello,
my name is Basma Ramez. I am 25 years old.I write these words from the heart of suffering, destruction, hunger, and poverty in Gaza. My life was beautiful and normal, filled with hope, dreams, and hard work until the war came and destroyed everything.
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Before the war, I was studying Sharia and Law at the Islamic University of Gaza. I had many wishes and dreams. I lived a simple but beautiful life and dreamed of a bright future. I never tasted the joy of graduation due to the war and the mass destruction we are enduring. I intended to become a lawyer; that was my dream. My life was beautiful in the embrace of my family, but the war separated us. I haven’t seen my family for months. Now I only want to see them and fulfill my dream.But the war changed everything for the worse. It destroyed my university,
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my home was destroyed, and I lost family members. I lost everything and became homeless.
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I fled from northern Gaza to the south, thinking it would be a safe place, but there is no safe place in Gaza. Everything around us is destroyed and reduced to rubble. Every day, we live in a nightmare. There is no opportunity for education or work, and I suffer from poverty, displacement, hunger, and homelessness.
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I am now seeking an opportunity to live in a safe place outside of Gaza, but this is very costly. I am in urgent need of your support and assistance. I want to provide a better future and a dignified life for myself and my family.
I believe that humanity and compassion still exist, and that there are those who will respond to my anguished voice. Any donation, no matter how small, will have a significant impact on my life. Your contributions will help cover all the costs of travel for me and my parents to live in a safe and stable place, free from hunger, fear, and destruction, allowing us to start a new life full of hope.Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me and my family during these difficult times. I believe that goodness still exists and that there are those who share our hope for a better life.Thank you for considering supporting me and my family. I am grateful for any help you can provide.
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botanicalsword · 6 months ago
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Saturn ✧ the challenges lead you to maturity?
Saturn in Natal Chart - In which areas do they face challenges that lead to maturity?
Where do they encounter obstacles and difficulties?
In what aspects of life are they likely to experience pressure and responsibility?
How do rules and regulations influence these areas?
What life dimensions must they confront under pressure, and what types of challenges do these dimensions present?
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Saturn in the 1st House
often feel unattractive
tend to wear a mask of indifference, making it difficult for them to express their true selves
may experience a sense of lack during childhood, even if their family is not financially struggling
a strong sense of responsibility, making them reliable for important tasks
exhibit excessive defensiveness and materialism
might face issues related to their skin, bones, or chronic health conditions
 Saturn in the 2nd House
have a deep fear of poverty
tightening their purse strings gives them a sense of security - leading to a stable financial foundation in their later years
can be seen as wealthy yet burdened
may come from a background of financial hardship / experience a sense of stinginess from their parents.
often find it challenging to earn money
sacrifice enjoyment in life in exchange for an irreplaceable sense of security
nothing is more important to them than feeling secure
Saturn in the 3rd House
may have experienced stuttering or speech difficulties in their early years
they might have been teased for their accents
remain silent unless absolutely necessary
do not have a speech impediment, when they choose to speak - their words carry significant weight
they are not inclined to engage in casual conversation
may be perceived as dull by adults or face criticism for their words - leading them to internalize their thoughts and feelings
may struggle to share their innermost thoughts with others
Saturn in the 4th House
have a strong sense of family identity - take on the responsibility of caring for their family from a young age
they may feel obligated to support their family or care for their father
may have had a strict or emotionally distant father during childhood - who was often absent or unapproachable, leading to feelings of fear or estrangement
find it difficult to share their emotions and may struggle to express care - but they are willing to shoulder family responsibilities, they may not engage in nurturing behaviors
often exhibit distrust towards emotional intimacy while yearning for security and permanence in their lives
Saturn in the 5th House
fewer romantic opportunities
often seen as the "unloved child" / either neglected - a loss of their own identity and significance
may find it difficult to connect with their children (challenging aspects)
tend to exhibit a noticeable shyness - waiting quietly on the sidelines
hoping to one day become the center of admiration and attention
Saturn in the 6th House
experience depression due to their intense focus on health issues - prompting them to engage in rigorous fitness / wellness routines
particularly concerned with their schedules - may experience anxiety in daily life, often resisting changes to their routines
they place immense pressure on themselves at work and continue to do so after hours - leading to more severe chronic fatigue
may encounter skeletal or joint issues - often linked to prolonged stress
feelings of pressure, pessimism, fear, distrust, or gloom
Saturn in the 7th House
may lead them to encounter serious partners who do not provide the intimacy they seek in marriage (challenging aspects)
making the institution feel burdensome
may find themselves in relationships with older partners / those who impose many restrictions
approach marriage with a serious and solemn attitude, placing great importance on marital contracts.
fear both marriage and the absence of it
experiencing loneliness, rejection, and disappointment in real -life marriages can prompt them to embark on an inward journey of self-exploration
Saturn in the 8th House
often struggle to confront the topic of death, exhibiting a greater fear of mortality than most - translates into a stronger will to survive
may face financial difficulties - lead to issues in their marriages / being taken advantage of financially by business partners
may encounter problems receiving inheritances / resources (challenging aspects)
have a deep interest in the subconscious - if they harness this interest wisely - become true masters of transformation
Saturn in the 9th House
possess strict moral values and a strong sense of conscience, making them hesitant to take risks and fearful of making mistakes
may engage in lifelong learning and continuously pursue certifications
often require written documentation or prior occurrences to believe in something - exhibiting a somewhat rigid mindset
resistance to traveling abroad (challenging aspects)
Saturn in the 10th House
appear remarkably youthful - growing younger in appearance as they age but their personality and style tend to be more seasoned and sophisticated
typically late bloomers - not the type to achieve success in their youth
eager to showcase their abilities - but once they do, they often find themselves burdened with greater responsibilities and pressures - lead to self-imposed stress
may struggle to express this pressure - making it essential for them to learn how to manage stress effectively
may also find themselves living out their unfulfilled inner needs through their partners - which can impact their intimate relationships
Saturn in the 11th House
withdraw from social interactions - feeling unable to fit into certain circles
tend to shy away from expanding their social networks
often showing little interest in socializing - prefer not to make friends casually and dislike superficial social interactions
or leaving little time for solitude - allows them to avoid confronting their inner selves
Saturn in the 12th House
often feel an overwhelming and be responsible for the suffering of others - accompanied by an inexplicable guilt
tend to care for those in need
may experience a state of self-isolation - avoiding external contact while grappling with a profound sense of loneliness and helplessness
a strong sense of duty within them - instinctive sacrifices - a feeling of being unable to cope with reality
need to learn to shed the heavy burdens they impose on themselves - avoid excessive responsibility and allowing themselves to move forward with greater ease
✧ >> Career ✧ What challenges will you encounter in your work? • Solar Returns >> Career • work a job or start a business? ✧ Natal Chart Observation >> Career • A Sudden Change - What Happens Next? ✧ Solar Return / Lunar Return >> Career • Indicators for your potential and talents (Part 1) >> Career • Indicators for your potential and talents (Part 2)
>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content
Exclusive access : Patreon
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homunculus-argument · 4 months ago
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Songs by the band Leevi and the Leavings, in no specific order:
Man getting drunk alone makes an unwelcome midnight phone call to a woman he hasn't seen for years/decades. She still doesn't want him.
I have purchased a new pair of fancy fashionable trousers and now everyone can see how fashionable I am.
Country boy fell in love with a city girl, and rides to the city to try to find her. People are laughing at his horse.
This sweet, adorable little baby girl looks remarkably like the man living in the apartment downstairs but let's ignore that for now.
No time for romance, look at how many cool home appliances we have now.
1980s rural LGBT youth who has no words for who and what they are, and is only painfully aware of their own ambiguous, undefined queerness, can no longer stand the oppressive, small-minded judgement of their hometown and must leave it all behind.
I am drunk on Christmas.
Everyone in this office wants me carnally.
Big muscle mommy does whatever she wants with me.
A couple buys the house of their dreams, only to discover that the house is rotting and there are no jobs around, and their dream life is devoured in the grinding jaws of poverty.
I am going back to North Karelia, to drink beer in sweatpants while watching the sun rise.
This dude keeps crashing his car because he wants to be a rally driver.
Overcome by hopelessness of their financial situation, a married couple decides to commit double-suicide and take their kids with them.
I am a normal man who wears normal pants.
I regret not telling that spectacularly fat woman how badly I wanted to fuck her.
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fictionalsweethearts · 2 months ago
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THE COMMISSION PT. 4 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE
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'The Commission' series: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, epilogue.
Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.
Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw, nsfw, smut, fingering omgg
If you're underage, be responsible and don't consume smut content. I AIN'T YOUR MAMA TO SPANK YOUR ASS.
Word count: 5,384 (yes, things HAPPEN in this chapter)
Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!
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Two years earlier
"I'm fine." Sevika murmured, in a tone that could scare anyone away. Except you.
Third day in a row you slept in Zaun's main square, you were cold and your stomach was asking for a more substantial dish than the cookies you could afford. You smelled of street, oil and rain, you were risking everything to get some money and sleep under a roof today.
Many warned you about Sevika, it was better not to mess with her or even show your nose, unless you were proposing a card game, a business or you were a lady-in-waiting. You were none of the three, but you trusted what your hands and your tools were capable of. You held the toolbox, keeping an upright posture even though inside you feared ending up in a dumpster or bleeding to death in the middle of the Last Drop.
"Your arm seems to need a checkup." You insisted. "I know the model, I assume you've had it for about five years, yeah?"
Sevika frowned, putting down the cards and letting out a puff of smoke. She didn't look convinced, more irritated. You insisted.
"I don't charge much."
Sevika flicked her eyes up and down your form, her expression stern. She had seen you before - a street rat, hanging around the less salubrious parts of the city. You were skinny, dirty, and reeked of poverty. You had no business approaching her, let alone with such audacity.
"And what makes you think you can fix it?” she scowled, her voice as harsh as sandpaper. "You some kind of mechanic?”
"Yes." you said, noticing the way Sevika was studying you. You couldn't call her out, you had to swallow your pride in order to swallow a decdent meal later, if everything goes right. "I used to work at Benzo's pawn shop, fixing unused appliances. I brought fine pieces back to life." you said, your eyes flickering to Sevika's mechanic arm. "Like yours."
Certainly Sevika was not pleased with your audacity, she was forced to answer for Silco to idiots, drug addicts, gang members and murderers, so you were just another one to add to the list.
"Used to?" she grunted, her eyes narrowing as she took another drag on her cigarette. "What, you get fired or something?"
"He's dead." you reminded her, knowing damn well Silco's goons were behind that.
Yes, you were bretraying yourself and your past by turning to Sevika to offer your services, but your situation wasn't getting any better. Not with a dead father, an absent mother, and debts to deal with. You should have known better, gambling leads to no good, neither does the air of Zaun. You fell victim to both, the first killed your father, the second probably killed your mother, you weren't sure. And the debt collectors were breathing down your neck.
She eyed you for a moment longer, her gaze weighing your worth. You were desperate, that much was obvious. And she couldn't help but see an opportunity in that. "Alright," she grunted, her voice gruff. "Let's say I let you take a look. What's it gonna cost me?"
You huffed, you were losing dignity there. "A meal." you shrugged. "And a sip of whiskey if you're feeling generous. But I assure you, I do a fine job."
"You'll get your meal and your shot of whiskey," she grumbled, knwoing she would regret giving you a chance. "But if you don't do a damn good job, I'll rip your pretty little head off."
"My head will stay above my shoulders..." you stated. "And your arm, brand new." you added.
Sevika raised her eyebrows, giving the guard a signal to let you come over and take a seat next to her on the couch. You had little time to prove that your offer was not talk but fact. You opened the toolbox, taking out a screwdriver to begin taking apart the arm and separating the pieces. The supply of Shimmer on top seemed novel, but predictable. You knew what to do
As you progressed with your work, Sevika's first impression about you began to crumble. Beneath the hollow cheeks and dark circles under her eyes was a beautiful girl intent on her task, with attentive eyes, deft fingers, and latent confidence. The woman then began to ask questions, hoping to intimidate you.
"How old are you, anyway?"
"Twenty-six."
"So young, and already out on the streets?" she grunted, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "What, your parents throw you out or something?"
"They're dead." you mumbled. Sevika was holding her card with her flesh hand, still gambling while you were attending her prosthetic arm.
Your confession did not move her, having parents alive and present in Zaun was a privilege. However, her curiosity only increased. "Orphan?"
"You could say so." you said, glancing at the disassembled parts, studying the system of Sevika’s arm. The thermal paste needed changing, luckily you had some on you, the seals needed oil too, and some of the gears could use replacing.
"So you're just a street rat then," she said bluntly. "No family, no friends, nowhere to call home."
"Rat." you huffed. "I'm prettier than that." you might have been hungry, skinny and dirty, but you were a lot smarter and prettier than a goddamn rat.
"Maybe," she smirked. "But you still smell worse than one."
As Sevika took the time to mock you, your eyes were split between the arm and the opponents' play. You were sure that Sevika was taking a big risk by continuing to allow the cuprier to keep adding cards to the deck. "Stand," you whispered. "You're too close."
Sevika raised her eyebrow, planning to ignore you, however your comment didn't seem to be wrong. She let out a sigh before raising her hand to the cuprier. With that, the man turned over his cards. "Seventeen." The man said, to which you looked with pleased eyes at Sevika's nineteen.
"Agh, for fuck's sake." groaned one of the opponents, losing the bet. Blackjack was quite unpredictable, but you advised Sevika well; she hit the jackpot.
She chuckled, turning to look at you with a mix of surprise and respect. "Well then, not bad," she said, her voice gruff but impressed. "You really know your stuff."
"The rat's useful." you mumbled. "I have a name, though."
"I haven't asked your name." she replied, as she placed her just won chips on the pile.
"I rather you to remember the quality of my work than my name." you stated, assembling the arm back on Sevika. You turned the last screws, applied oil to the parts, and finally inserted the supply of Shimmer into the shoulder compartment, clicking your tongue. "Set and done, miss."
As the arm connected to her system, Sevika immediately noticed the fluidity of the gears and the restored sensitivity of the metal fingers. She flexed her arm and stretched it out, looking at you with a half-smile. It was all she would give you, along with an, "And here I thought I would rip your head off."
Before you could accept the praise wholeheartedly, there was this sudden commotion in the club. Another bastard too immersed in Shimmer to contain himself had entered, knocking out the guards with just the touch of a hand, and actually, knocking down everything in his path.
Fuck.
Sevika tensed, eyes flickering to the situation. She recognized the signs of a Shimmer-induced maniac, and knew damn well the trouble that could follow.
"Gods," she growled under her breath. "Not this bastard again."
Sevika quickly rose from her seat, her eyes watching the Shimmer-fueled maniac with a steely glare. It was only a matter of time before he would turn his attention to the rest of the bar, and Sevika knew she had to act fast. One of the other players had already fled, hiding behind the wall near the bar. The other stood frozen in fear, unable to speak or move. But you remained calm, your eyes on Sevika, awaiting her next move.
Sevika looked more irritated than alert, she moved her mechanical arm and walked towards the purple beast in front of her, her bearing filling the entire place, her confidence latent. You watched the fight unfold with a smile, the arm worked like a charm and there was no denying that you did a great job, especially when Sevika pulled the opponent’s leg against her and her elbow landed on the knee joint, bending the limb at an unnatural angle, followed by a punch capable of sending him flying through the air and landing in front of the bar. You drank from her glass, watching the guards carry the unconscious opponent away and Sevika letting out a sigh. The music began playing again.
Sevika raised an eyebrow, and by then you had realized that it was a habit of hers, and before scolding you for your attitude and your audacity in drinking from her glass, the woman called for the waiter. "Bring the girl dinner, and a glass of whiskey." she mumbled.
"I like it with soda," you added, smiling pleased from the couch.
Sevika rolled her eyes. "With soda," she said.
When you had already filled your stomach and calmed your nerves with a good whiskey, Sevika reappeared through the door. She had disappeared during your dinner, but returned to the room with a small bag of coins between her fingers and a less cold look than before; you could read the ambition on her face.
"For the arm repair," Sevika said, placing the pouch next to you on the table. To it, she added a small card with an address and the Silco symbol on the bottom, known as the "Eye of Zaun."
You knew that card was your golden ticket.
"This..." she said lowly. "Is a way to keep yourself fed and off the streets, if you're interested."
As you nodded, Sevika leaned in to whisper in a tone that made you shudder. Her scent of tobacco wafted into your nose, her closeness overwhelming. "Report to this address tomorrow at 8. Not a single minute later. We'll talk business when the time comes."
"Yes, ma'am." you said, making Sevika grin.
"Sevika." she said. "I am not into formality."
With that, she walked away, leaving you with a job opportunity and a pouch full of coins.
You did it. You fucking did it.
And tomorrow you would prove that your actions weren't just talk but pure merit. You counted the coins, it was enough for a hotel room and half of what you owed Horner. You smiled, he's always been good faking a Shimmer overdose.
As the days went by, you went from rat to girl. You met Silco, you closed a deal for private services to the organization, you took care of the maintenance of machinery, clothing and weapons. You were a full-time worker, you spent your hours within the four walls of the workshop, living off of coffee, bread, fruit and whiskey. Sevika watched you from the beginning, it was the task that Silco had entrusted to her; "Keep an eye on the girl, make her work and keep her mouth shut."
And that's what you did.
When the time came, you went from girl to mechanic. The workshop was not only your workplace, but your temple. Silco allowed you to accept external orders, you began to build a business that not only gave you autonomy, but also colored your cheeks, filled out your muscles and gave you the beauty that poverty had taken from you.
It was then that you went from mechanic to sweetheart. And Sevika forced herself to keep her distance, but the numerous appointments to check her arm, the jokes, the glances and the talks had loosened this armor against you. Now you ate full dinners, steaks, roasted vegetables, drank lemonade and replaced coffee with Shimmer, with Sevika as your only provider.
That was her mistake.
She thought she had done you a favor by providing you the doses. You worked better, your efficiency was through the roof, your performance impeccable. But that night, seeing you unconscious on the floor of her office, surrounded by paramedics and pale as snow, Sevika knew that you ended up like this because of her.
Her fault. Her damn fault.
"You've allowed this." said Silco, dragging from his cigar. He seemed quite unbothered by the situation, considering your incident as another problematic worker that couldn't control herself. All businesses have causalities, however, this wasn't just any. "She wasn't supposed to be at your office."
Your inert eyes, the way your body lay languid, a purple substance coming out of the corner of your mouth as if your insides were melting, the paramedics trying to revive a being whose life was hanging by a thread. It was a nightmare.
"She's dead." The paramedic said.
Dead.
Dead.
You died for her.
Because of her.
"Ah!" Sevika sat up suddenly, a drop of sweat wetting the back of her neck when her eyes landed on the halo of moonlight that was leaking through the window. She had dreamed of the accident again.
She wiped the sweat from her neck with a quick gesture and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Just a dream, she told herself, just a damn dream.
Sevika didn't even stop to put her mechanical arm on, which was resting next to her bed, but left the room at a quick pace and uncovered your sleeping figure on the living room couch.
You were fine.
You were curled up on the couch, your bandaged wrist resting next to your face, serene and calm. Your breathing reminded Sevika that you were still alive, even though you threatened to die on the old wooden floor of her office a month ago. But you were too stubborn to die from an overdose. You shifted in your spot, the breeze biting at your skin in the absence of the blanket over you, and when you opened your eyes you found the immense silhouette of Sevika before you. You screamed.
Sevika winced at your sharp cry, her hand reaching out instinctively to cover your mouth, to silence the sound before it echoed through the apartment.
"Shhh!" she hissed, her eyes darting towards the main door. The last thing she needed was for someone to think she was murdering someone in there.
"Quiet, quiet," she whispered, her hand still firmly over your mouth. "You'll wake the whole damn block with that shrieking."
Your heart skipped a beat before connecting two coherent thoughts and realizing it was Sevika. The woman pulled her hand away. "Fuck, don't stand in front of me like that again," you gasped. "I thought it was the grim reaper."
She took a step back, giving you some breathing room. "Believe me, he must have more important things to attend to," she said, her voice still low. "Just came to check on you. Didn't mean to scare you like that."
You sat up, reaching out to turn the oil lamp on. Sevika was still on her tank top and boxers, it was unusual to see her without the prosthetic arm. "I'm fine." you said. "You could've came to check in the morning, damn... what time it is?" you asked.
It's three," she replied, her tone still hushed. "Go back to sleep, girl. I just... wanted to make sure you were alright."
The lamplight outlined Sevika's silhouette, you could see the sweat on her neck and a certain pallor on her face. You assumed it was another nightmare, you already knew about them, but you avoided bringing them up because every time you did, she would shut you up with an "I'm fine, girl, go to sleep."
You watched her walk towards the balcony, a pack of cigarettes in her hand and a deep sigh leaving her lips. When she had the cigarette between her lips, you were suddenly beside her, lighting it up. “What’s really going on?” you asked.
"Can't a woman just enjoy her smoke in peace?" she grumbled, taking a drag from the cigarette. But there was no real malice in her voice, just a touch of weariness. She leaned against the balcony railing, the metal cool beneath her bare arm.
You sighed, coming up against a wall again. Sevika was impenetrable, so much so that you didn't know what was going through her mind unless she said it, and you could certainly assume it had to do with her nightmares, but you didn't dare to intrude on her fears. Still, you stayed next to her on the balcony, your stomach aching as the first sign of withdrawal.
The first few days were atrocious, you trembled and vomited every hour, you believed that dying was more pleasant than enduring such nausea and fits of anger and pain. However, Sevika stood firm by your side, brought you to her apartment and such a nurse, kept track of your symptoms and silenced them with the medicines the doctor had prescribed you. More than once, she stayed next to you on the couch, talking to you about trivialities or reading a book until the sleeping pill took effect and you could sleep. Only then did Sevika allow herself to stroke your forehead and relive the guilt of the accident.
Sevika had lived long enough to witness the effects of Shimmer on people. It didn't just destroy wills, it destroyed bodies and minds. The mutations from overuse of Shimmer were morbid and grotesque, luckily you didn't experience any, but that didn't make seeing you on the office floor, languid, pale, with your eyes open any less terrifying. Silco saw Sevika lose her temper for the first time in his life.
"I shouldn't have let you take those doses," she finally muttered, the words coming out with a hint of gravel in her voice. "I should've found a different way. This..." she gestured to you, the signs of her failure still lingering in the bags under your eyes and the scars along your arms, "...this is on me. My fault."
So that's what it was all about; guilt. Sevika had learned to take the blame for other people, to take responsibility for other people's mistakes, and this time was no different. Yes, she made a mistake by giving you doses of Shimmer for two years, but you were the one who decided to relapse. And you took all the blame. "Nobody forced me to relapse that day, Sevika." you stated. "And nobody could've stopped me neither, not even you."
For a moment, she was quiet, mulling over your words, the smoke from her cigarette spiraling up into the night air.
“You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, girl,” she said finally, the vulnerability in her tone betraying her gruff exterior. “I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”
"We both know that a worker isn't taken care of the way you take care of me," you stated, your words implying more than what they said.
"You've never been a mere worker for me," she stated, letting out a puff of smoke, moving away into the air. Zaun was quiet, as if the city had stopped the day you nearly died. "Sometimes I can't stand you, you don't know when to back off."
You reached for her cigarette, taking a drag. "I never learned to back off."
“Of course, you didn’t,” she said, a note of resignation in her voice. “You’re as stubborn as they come. Should’ve known from the beginning that I’d have my hands full with you.”
And here you were, two years later, sleeping on her couch and making her coffee in the mornings, refusing to die without proving once again that you are many things, but not a street rat.
You had already settled into a routine. Sevika would leave early in the morning, usually returning at noon to check on you. You always waited for her with a cigarette and a cup of coffee, you started adding a touch of whiskey when you realized she liked it. You used to keep the apartment clean, read the books Sevika kept, play with her cards and sometimes take out your tools and make crafts or repair unused items, even though Sevika had forbidden you to work until you had recovered.
"Your recovery comes first, girl. Go easy."
Sometimes you found yourself chatting with her on the balcony, taking drags from her cigarette and oiling her mechanical arm, before daring to ask how her day was, absorbing her worries and whispering a "you always put up with too much, Sev" afterwads, only for her to shrug and light another cigarette. Being her tenant had allowed you to see Sevika in a much more intimate setting, without the need to maintain the impenetrable facade. You watched her sleep, yawn, train, and even cook; your favorite was the mushroom stew with enhacium powder. It was quite the meal, always leaving you with a heavy stomach and a pleasant drowsiness, although your tongue took the brunt of the sting of the powder. Sevika could feel you starting to itch as your cheeks colored, and with a smile, she would hand you the lemonade.
You were embarrassed to admit it, even more so considering that the overdose could have killed you, but you were grateful that circumstances led you to live with Sevika. Sometimes you wished you had done it sooner, but you remembered the way she reacted when you woke up in the hospital and regretted it.
"Don't you ever do that to me again, girl, understood? Never again." she said, agitated, holding your hand in hers.
You could never apologize enough to take the blame off Sevika's chest, so you just limited yourself to being a good roommate.
"Would you mind helping me with the painkiller?" you asked then, placing the cigarette between Sevika's lips. Despite having started the methadone treatment more than a month ago, it still gave you the shivers to handle the syringe.
"Of course," she said simply, her voice a mix of gruffness and understanding. "Let me do it."
You two sat down on the couch, Sevika holding the cigarette between her lips as she wrapped the elastic around your arm and tightened it. You didn’t admit it out loud, but ever since you’d been staying at Sevika’s apartment, your favorite time of day was when she helped you with the methadone. You loved the way her eyes focused on you, her thumb gently searching for your vein, commanding you to close your fist, then after piercing your skin, whispering “there you go,” pulling the needle back out before caressing the mark with her finger and purring “good girl.” She made you feel special, you were pampered by a woman who didn’t pamper anyone, and it was exhilarating in the most unusual way.
You thought you could take a thousand injections if it meant continuing to be Sevika’s good girl.
"Easy as pie," she said, her voice a rough whisper. "No pain, no drama." she added, disposing of the syringe in the trash can.
You watched her put out her cigarette in the ashtray, expecting her to sit next to you and wait for you to fall asleep like she always did. You had gotten used to hearing her voice by now. Just then, the first hit of the drug bathed you. It was always the strongest, however after a few weeks, the dose had decreased and only gave you a pleasant drowsiness.
"You're getting sleepy." she said. "Good."
Sevika watched as your eyelids fluttered shut, your body slumping back against the couch. The drug had done its work, a gentle drowsiness seeping into your limbs and calming your nerves. You felt an arm wrap around your waist, Sevika lifted you over her shoulder and carefully carried you to her bed. "It's too damn cold in the living room," was her excuse, even though you didn't ask for one. The bed was still warm, wide and the sheets smooth. Sevika wasn't lying when she said she prefers her whiskey neat and her bed soft.
She turned off the lamp, snuggling up to you, keeping a prudent distance that at the moment seemed ridiculous to you. "Do I scare you?" you teased her.
"Scare me?" she huffed. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Come closer then." you said, pushing your luck just enough. And Sevika seemed to give in.
You rested your head on her chest, allowing yourself to inhale her scent and feel the beat of her heart; it was slow, imposing, just like her. Sevika frowned, ignoring the urge to bury her nose in your hair and entwine her legs with yours. You heard her sigh, you were dozing off by then. "Rest, girl, you need it."
Sevika wasn’t the best early riser, but she woke up in a better mood that morning. A hand around your waist, her nose on your neck as if your scent alone had calmed all her nightmares, and it did. You were still asleep, comfortable and serene while she spooned you, unaware that Sevika pulled you close to her, taking in your cleavage from where she was; your shirt had shifted in the night, revealing more of your skin.
Look away, Sevika, get a grip.
Sevika sighed against your neck, knowing she was treading unfamiliar and inappropriate territory, but she couldn't help it. Her hand found the edge of your tank top, pulling it down just to reveal your breasts; smooth, tender and full.
No, she shouldn't, but... she wanted to? Absolutely.
Her lips found the sensitive area of your neck, trailing kisses and nips down to your shoulders and collarbone, daring to squeeze one of your tits between her fingers. You shifted on your place, the air biting on your bare chest managed to draw your attention and Sevika pulled her hands off, as if she was spooked of herself.
What the hell am I doing?
"Mhm..." you uttered, your hand seeking for Sevika's, bringing it back towards your chest. "Don't stop." you whispered, your eyes still closed.
Sevika gulped, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her body as she reached out again, catching your breast between her fingers and massaging it gently, peppering kisses down your neck, your cheek, your shoulder. You felt her abdomen press harder against your back, you shifted your ass against her, half asleep but perfectly aware of what was happening, and you wouldn’t let her stop.
She grunted against your neck, her hand squeezing harder your breast. "Don't move," she growled softly, her breath hot against your ear. "Stay just like this."
You moaned, your hand reaching her cheek, urging her to touch you, to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered open as she ran her hand down your stomach, teasing your lower belly, down to your legs, the inner side of your thighs. "Sev..." you purred.
"I'm here," she whispered against your ear. "I've got you."
"Shit." you whimpered, your eyes shutting once she slipped her hand into your shorts, settling between your legs. That's all you needed to fully wake up. "Ah, god." you panted, feeling her fingers against your slick.
"You're so wet for me, aren't you?" she breathed against your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine. She pressed kisses along your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "Yes, you are."
As much confidence Sevika showed, the truth was that inside she was shaking with fear. She was crossing a line she had imposed on herself when she met you two years ago, and she had never felt so out of control as she did now. It wasn’t just your moans, it was your scent, your heat, the idea that she was the one who gave you the opportunity that night at the club and now you were lying on her bed, squirming under her hand. She forged this situation from the moment she laid eyes on you, not knowing that you intended to end up in this position ever since she leaned in and her tobacco scent filled your nostrils. You intended to work for Sevika, to be her confidant, her best partner and above all… to become her weak point.
You pulled your head back, moaning as Sevika parted your legs and eased a finger inside you, licking your ear. "Sleeping on my couch, playing with my cards, wearing my clothes while I'm gone; all you've done to end up here." she mumbled, easing a second one, knowing you could take it.
"Yes, I... I did it." you whimpered, gripping the sheets between your fingers.
"You were testing me." she stated, biting on your neck. "Always pushing my buttons to see when I would give in."
You knew Sevika wasn't just playing around with you when she rubbed the heel of her hand against your clit, already swollen and sensitive for her. The room was filled with the obscene sound of your slick, your moans and Sevika's words. "Legs apart." she commanded. "You never learned to follow instructions, learn now." she said.
"Yes, ma'am." you whined, before Sevika chuckled.
"Didn't I tell you I'm not into formality?"
She could never forget the details of the time they met, no. Not when she was the one who saw you enter the club with your toolbox, your tired eyes, your steely confidence. Not when she was the one who asked Silco for a job opportunity for you and paid you with her own coins. Not when she chose you, for herself, from the first moment.
You were hers from the beggining, and somehow you knew it.
Her hand continued to work between your legs, her fingers moving expertly, making pleasurable heat pool in your belly. "You can pretend to be tough all you want, but when you're with me, you're not."
Your legs were locking around her hand, your breathing quick and ragged as Sevika sped up the motion of her fingers. Fuck, you were starting to shake, that tickling sensation settling in your stomach.
"You and your insolent mouth, your smug smile…" she whispered. "I wanted them for myself, I always did." You shifted, knowing that if Sevika had the mechanical arm on, she would already be choking you. However, you felt her move over you, trapping you against the mattress.
"Sevika… I'm…" you mewled, realizing you were on the very edge. "Huh, please..."
"I know." she smiled, as she laid above you, her hand firmly working on your throbbing pussy. "Now kiss me, pretty girl. Earn it."
You cupped her cheeks, kissing her as much as your moans would allow, tasting the tobacco on her tongue, her teeth between your lips. Sevika kissed like she walked, and that was saying a lot. You pulled back, realizing the trembling of your legs was the hint of an orgasm you couldn't contain. "Oh... god...!" you cried against her lips before you dove into the sensation.
And you melted.
Sevika leaned down to kiss your chin, your neck, totally in love with your whimpers and trembling lips, your smell of sweat, your juicy pussy. You barely rode the high when Sevika kissed your belly, a hand tracing fingers on your knee as her mouth hovered over your core. "I could lick it off of you, y'know?" she smirked.
You were in no position to ask or deny anything, but Sevika was in the perfect position to tempt you and play on your desire. “If only I didn’t have that meeting with Silco in…” she glanced at the clock beside the bed. “Ten minutes.”
Oh, no.
"Ten minutes is more than enough." you said, even though it sounded like a plea.
But Sevika chuckled, leaning to place a kiss on your lips. "I don't rush things when I eat a pretty girl out." she stated, leaving the bed.
You propped yourself up on your elbow, staring at Sevika with your lips apart. Unfazed, she took the mechanical arm and connected it to her shoulder, glancing at you with a rose brow.
"Wait for me with the coffee ready," she said, walking to the dresser to get ready. "I'll finish what I started, sugar, don't worry."
To be continued...
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Also, I haven't stopped to thank u all for your reception of this series. It makes me absolutely happy you girls like it so far! Thank u all <3
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turquoizxe · 4 months ago
Text
𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬
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Sevika x Piltover!Fem!Reader
content ― one-shot; hatefucking, "til' the room stank", light pain kink, degradation, some biting, the reader is also bratty highkey, smut, overstim, fingering, strap, pillow talk, mentions of possible feelings, Sevika is down bad for you, #needdat #realbad
author's note ― this was supposed to be a small < 500 word drabble, but ovulation had other plans. enjoy!
wc ― 2.445k
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You didn't have it in you to give up whatever this was. It felt too good. She wanted to hate your guts, ruin you, and deprive you of any happiness that she thought you didn't deserve. But I guess other plans were written on the cards.
Thoughts about how you were, how you felt ― it plagued every corner of her brain. And even you didn't understand how much she needed you.
Despite you being from Piltover, your parents were from Zaun. And due to your luck, your family had somehow found themselves outside of poverty. The unfortunate thing is that their corrupt principles still remained despite being surrounded by riches; It in fact made it worse.
Politics was always a rough issue at the dinner table, and you had your opinions about the council. You'd be lying if their narcissism didn't rub off on you quite a bit, and Sevika could tell from miles away that you'd be a problem.
Despite your background and upbringing in Piltover, you and your friends would sneak out to Zaun on more than one occasion. Your parents were unaware that you had as many connections to Zaun as they did, and possibly even more. You'd often run into Sevika more often than she'd like to. Your favorite interaction being within the brothel.
Silco had recently hired you and asked you to find Sevika, who hadn't known that you had become a partner in their line of work. She was often seen at The Last Drop when she was on downtime. You knew her features all too well, and it'd be nice to greet her with your lovely face.
You didn't think she would be able to fuck as good as she looked. While it had been made to your knowledge that she was also a regular at the Brothel, you had been browsing, the familiar voice had echoed. And you hated admitting to yourself how her baritone and shaken up the core inside you. You were gone before you could even make an attempt to find a partner that night. And you couldn't help but hear the filthy words that left her lips every time you had to interact with her.
"That pretty little cunt is mine, isn't it?"
God, you hoped those thoughts didn't chase through you with every moment she spoke with you. Once you started working together more, the tension got stronger, and neither of you could pinpoint when and where it started. But you knew what strengthened it. Your quick wit and smart mouth kept her entertained, and some days she wondered how the hell you didn't end up in this line of work sooner.
Your involvement with Zaun made her feel like the mission was being prolonged with your presence, and she made it known with every passing moment the aversion she had reserved for you. You'd believe it if she spent less time staring at your ass when you were tweaking with her mechanical arm.
The small audience that knew of your partnership was often left in question, as they couldn't describe the relationship you had with one another. And fondness wasn't a word they would state it as.
The seamless flirting felt so harmless at first, the prolonged stares. She could tell how she made you feel, and she always refrained from acknowledging it because she wants to fuck you more than she hates you.
And she couldn't tell if that hate was mutual when all you did was toy with her when under pressure. And finally, she gave in to what she knew you both wanted.
You two got caught up when you started bringing up your parents and your involvement with Zaun. You had spent so much time trying to convince her that this wasn't some sort of savior complex moment for you. You had known better than to engage with someone of her stature. You'd be as good as dead. Sevika was impressed with your combat skills, but that fell short once your teeth sunk into her skin. The lust that clouded her eyes was clear as day in yours.
You knew better than to use Silco's desk for anything other than work, but neither cared enough about him to consider that.
You had Sevika right where you wanted her.
Her mechanical arm had you pinned upon Silco's desk. Your breasts were on display, riddled with bites and hickeys; Your bottoms dangled over your ankles, and your undergarments were barely recognizable after Sevika tore them. And you whined under her so desperately.
"What happened to that shit you were talkin' earlier, huh?" She scoffed, her fingers working inside your walls, eager to pull more cries from you. It was embarrassing for her to admit how much pleasure she derived from you crying like a bitch in heat.
You had stopped counting how many times she had made you come at this point. It was constant teasing and banter until you took it upon yourself to rile her up.
"Fuckin' brat, I just knew you'd break.." Her wrist flicked up, her strong arm adjusting your bottom half. The pressure on your clit only intensified once she realized the change in her angle led to finding your spot.
She had slowed down her movements to get a better look at you, and going only slower every time you averted your gaze. She looked down, your fluids soaking her palm. She let out an audible moan when she slowed down to take a better look at the white ring that was forming around her fingers that prodded you. If Sevika knew anything, you hated when she got under your skin, but how much does that matter when she's already gotten in your pants?
Sevika leans forward, peppering kisses across your chest, soothing the love bites she left behind on your neck, leading up to your ear as your body arches to feel her, yearning to be closer. Her breath ghosted over your ear, softly biting the skin. She slowly lifts her body so she can see the torment in your eyes.
"Look at me when you come, doll."
You cried out, tears welling up in your eyes. It was hard for you to form words, incoherent mumbles, and uneven breaths. You were only able to form a string of "fuck" as she abused your puffy clit. Your mind was clouded by lust and yet despite the knot in your stomach once again creating and becoming painful; You took it upon yourself to move your hips to meet the thrusts of her digits.
Sevika clicked her tongue before removing her fingers from your cunt, your remnants coating her fingers and desk. She backs away and turns away from you, wandering off to a dark corner of the office. A loud groan of frustration falls from your lips. Despite your body being pushed to its limits, you felt you could come for her once more than the last. You couldn't remember the last time anyone has fucked you that good, or if anyone even has until she strolled along.
"Following the rules seems to be a tough concept for you."
"You're such an ass" you sneer, sitting up. Your partner seemed to have stopped entertaining you, your hands finding their way to your pussy, frantically searching for its release. Much to your dismay, Sevika was not far away enough to not hear the cries of your pussy.
"I didn't say you could touch yourself."
"Not like you're doing it", you heave. A strong hand had taken hold of yours, halting your movements. You had been too busy trying to chase another orgasm, you hadn't realized Sevika's strap-on was excited to greet you― a thin layer of lube covering it. As prepped as you were, neither of you doubted you took whatever she gave you.
Sevika's stature was much larger than the average woman's, and she could tell how much you enjoyed feeling small under her with every moment she took to hover over you. While her mechanical arm held you up, firmly grasping your ass, the sharp metal, left small scratches on your backside, while her other hand ghosted over your thigh, her orbs remaining on yours. Your bottom lip stuck between your teeth to stifle a moan. You didn't think you'd become much weaker under her than you did at that moment.
Sevika had you right where she wanted you.
You both leaned forward, your chests heaving against each other, and were enveloped in what would be your first kiss. You were messy, and she adored you. Her tongue quickly found its way into your mouth, your lips softly suckling on the flesh as your hips started to grind against her, craving for Sevika to use her toy. She quickly took that into account, but she still had a sliver of pettiness within her.
"Sev..." drawls from your lips. Your only support is your arms upon Silco's desk as Sevika has her bionic arm grasping under you, her other hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look at her as she slowly inserts herself inside. Despite your slick being noticeably scattered across Sevika's hands and Silco's desk, you couldn't remember the last time you had something so big inside you. She pushed further, her thumb caressing your cheek, still holding your neck to see you lose any form of restraint you have left.
Sevika had finally removed her hand from your neck, retreating back to your breasts, pinching your nipples between her fingers. Once her length bottomed out, a gasp forced out of you from the sudden probe. Sevika grunts, your weight causing the friction against her clit. Your head flung back, white was the only thing you could see. You could feel the head of her strap probe at your spot once again.
"So fucking sexy...you're mine aren't you?"
You weakly moaned out a yes, too fucked out to even think of a witty comeback. Seeing you this fucked out was a dream before her eyes. Ever since she saw you catch a glimpse of her animosity at the brothel, she had only wondered how much of a beating you could take when she took you to pound town. She placed both of her hands on your hips, a grasp so powerful, that you were more than sure they would leave marks more than she already has.
You felt her hips rut against you, the guttural moan that erupted from your throat felt almost embarrassing. It was unfortunate for you that this was the calm before the storm. Still, Sevika searched your eyes before escalating.
She placed her hand on your stomach, where you could feel her with every thrust, you felt the knot forming faster than you'd had hoped. Your legs had begun to shake, tears prickling at your cheeks once again after Sevika's thumb applies pressure to your clit for the umpteenth time. You felt her bionic arm exert a warm sensation beneath you, only heightening your sensitivity.
"I thought you said you could take it? Be a good little bitch like I told you to."
The grip she had on your hips only tightened, the fervor in her ruts only reaching desperate heights, chasing her own orgasm. Seeing you coming undone like this was heavenly, and she'll never let you live this down.
The sweat beads formed on your forehead, and your body felt like it was on fire. You were reaching the edge, your hips quickly finding Sevika's rhythm, eager to reach ecstasy with her. Your hand intertwined with hers, your gaze never leaving her orbs as you witnessed her coming undone.
She didn't need to be told much else, as you hadn't been able to form coherent sentences after your first nut.
"ah..Sev― I'm gonna"
"Fucking do it", she commands, landing another bite on your neck as you both reached your climax. Her hips hadn't shown any signs of stopping, but her intensity decreased as she guided you through your orgasm.
You were already thinking about the next time she would tear your shit up like this. I think the passions you shared would only be the beginning of a unique relationship.
"Thaaaat's it baby..", she coos, landing kisses on your temple before placing a final one on your lips again. You both moaned at the sight of the aftermath, slowly pulling herself out of you. Her strap coated in your juices, your chest rising, a small chuckle leaving your lips admiring the mess you made. Sevika cackles weakly. She was still working on catching her breath from your physical activity.
Sevika's bionic arm squeaks, some steam erupting from the device. It seems like her new adjustments cause some overheating when exerted too much.
"I can take care of that", you motion toward her arm, slowly walking over to your toolbox, careful not to embarrass yourself from the short distance to acquire your items. From your peripheral, you could see Sevika's smirk, taking amusement from watching you struggle to make it. You finally make it, picking up the heavy box. Sevika took it upon herself to carry you back over to the chair across from the desk.
You took some time to gather yourself while Sevika cleaned up the desk, cautious to make it look as if nothing had taken place moments prior.
Afterward, she plopped next to you, putting her arm on display as you removed her vials.
Despite her ruining you just minutes prior, an awkward silence fell between the two of you. While it started rough, the displays of affection made it feel as if there was something else to explore further.
"Soo..." you start. You could feel her gaze upon you, likely wondering the same thing.
"I'd like to think whatever this is may be worth exploring."
Even if it remained this way, you wouldn't mind, but the moments when you both could hold a conversation, there was something else lingering in the air.
Sevika didn't know how to feel― this was beyond lust, but she didn't want to put other labels on it unless she knew for sure.
"I wouldn't mind exploring this with you", she admits, her hand caressing your thigh, your muscles loosen after the assurance from her, continuing to fix her arm. A small smile forms on your lips, and Sevika follows, averting your gaze. You were eager to tease her again, but that wasn't until Silco walked through the door.
The both of you looked in his direction. While his room looked the same as he left it, he couldn't ignore the stench that invaded his nostrils, including the state of your clothing, the only thing covering you being her cloak. You both felt the glares on you, his teeth gritting through his words of frustration.
"Fucking degenerates.."
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― turquoizxe
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