#i have recently realized that i kinda hate most of my clothes

[trashpandacraft]

I found fibrecraft tumblr after searching drop spindles because my dad *didn’t even know what that was.* And despite having been firmly of the opinion that I didn’t intend to learn it, y’all have me getting ever closer to giving in. However, I’m also growing ever more enamored with the idea of weaving - and despite recently deciding to give knitting and crochet another go - I think it looks the most fun of the fiber crafts. My issue is that I have absolutely no space.

But I’m beginning to realize there’s a lot of different looms and types of weaving. So I was wondering if you have any resources or tips for small space methods and storage?

welcome to fibrecraft tumblr! it's fun here, we have enablers.

i will admit that while i love knitting, weaving is amazing, and is much better with regards to instant gratification—weaving for an hour gets you a lot more fabric than knitting for an hour.

so let's talk about weaving, because i have great news for you: you can 100% totally weave in a small space if you want to, and you even have options for how you do it. i'm going to go through basically all the small space weaving options that i'm aware of in roughly size order, and if you make it to the bottom of this you'll have a pretty good overview of space-saving weaving methods.

the first question to ask yourself is what you want to weave. maybe you're not sure yet, which is totally fine. if you don't immediately have strong feelings about it, though, maybe consider if band weaving strikes your fancy. this is pretty limited in size, but lets you weave belts, straps (like camera or bag straps), lanyards, etc.

if you think that sounds neat, it's worth looking into tablet weaving, an inkle loom, or a band/tape loom. tablet weaving takes up no space at all—if you can fit a stack of index cards into your life, you can fit tablet weaving. the tablets are small square cards, often made out of heavy cardstock, and even with a project on them, you can probably fit them into an index card holder.

inkle looms are larger, and to be honest i've never used one and don't know a ton about them, but they're also used for making woven bands. the looms can also be very aesthetically pleasing, if that's something you're into. they can be very big, but the ashford inklette, for example, is only 36 cm long and maybe 12 cm wide.

tape looms are—in my experience, anyhow—larger than tablet weaving but smaller than inkle looms, and even the larger ones are only about shoebox size. they vary widely, from gorgeous, complicated little looms to a handheld paddle that you use to create a shed, which is what you put your yarn through when you're weaving.

if that doesn't sound like good times, consider a frame loom. these are pretty simple—if you ever wove potholders out of stretchy cloth strips as a kid, you probably used a frame loom to do it on. frame looms are generally inexpensive and readily available, and can be used for small woven objects like potholders, coasters, placemats, etc. they can also be used to make some truly stunning tapestries. while you can buy a huge frame loom, you're still only talking about huge in two directions—it might be as wide as your armspan, but it's still only a couple inches thick.

another option is a pin loom. these don't get mentioned a lot, and i'm not totally sure why. pin looms are shapes with a bunch of pins (metal points, usually) coming out of them. on one hand, you're limited to making things that are the shape of the loom, but on the other hand, if you've been hanging around fibrecraft tumblr, you've seen all the things crocheters get up to with granny squares, right? there's no reason in the world that you can't do all those things with the squares made on a pin loom. or the hexagons! or the triangles! i've been kinda thinking about getting a little hexagon or triangle pin loom and using it to sample my handspun, then turning the shapes into a blanket.

if you hate all of that, that's ok! we have more options.

you could consider a backstrap loom, which is an ancient way of weaving that's still practiced today in many places. backstrap looms are cool because you can weave probably 24 inches wide on them, but even with a project on it, they take almost no room at all. backstrap looms are fairly easy to diy, because they're basically a bunch of dowels, so they can be a good low-cost way to try out weaving. backstrap looms will let you make longer, wider fabric than anything else we've mentioned so far!

another option—stay with me—is a toy loom. there are a number of cheap looms for sale on amazon/ali express/some local places that are actually fully functional looms. recently i've seen a number of people (like sally pointer, though i'm sure i've seen someone using one of the brightly coloured harness looms, as well) who've used them and report that they're functional, if basic, looms. you're fairly constrained in terms of project size, since there's not a lot of space for the finished fabric to wind on, and there's a very limited width, but the looms are quite small and tuck away easily.

ok, but so what if you hate all of those options? don't worry—there are more options! this is the part where things get expensive, though.

as looms go, rigid heddle looms are actually quite reasonably sized. i think the smallest one i've seen is a 40cm (~16") weaving width, which is about 50x60 (20x24") in length/width, and 13cm (5") high. so that's more space than anything else we've talked about, but it's still not a ton of space, you know? a 40cm rigid heddle will let you weave lovely scarves and things of that nature—table runners, placemats, strips of woven fabric to whipstitch together into a blanket, etc.

but maybe that's enough. so let's talk about table looms. some of them are quite large—mine, for example, is about a metre square and sits on a frame that it came with. it is not what you would call space efficient. but many of them, especially modern ones, are very compact, and can even be folded up into something more or less briefcase sized. (weird way to consider it, since the last time i saw a briefcase was probably the 80s, but you know what i mean, i bet.) the cool part here is that you can weave damn near anything you want on a table loom. the less cool part is that for the compact ones that fold up, you're looking at hundreds if not thousands of dollars. the smallest one i'm aware of is the louët erica, which folds down to 42x62x42cm (16.5x24.5x16.5") and gives you 40cm (16") of weaving width. i feel like that's impressively small. you'd have to decide for yourself if that's enough to justify the $500 usd/$800 aud price tag, though.

finally, we've come to folding floor looms. i don't think someone who's never woven before should run out and buy one of these unless money is just literally not at all a concern for you, but they are basically the dream for those of us trapped in crappy rentals, and it seemed weird to leave them out when i'd come this far.

some floor looms are various levels of collapsible. to be clear, this does you absolutely no good at all when you're actively weaving, because you have to unfold them to weave, but it does you a lot of good if you'd like to have a floor loom and still have the ability to, say, walk through the living room when you're not actively using the loom.

most relevant to our discussion about small weaving footprints, some looms fold up entirely. they are incredibly fucking expensive and incredibly fucking cool. the two that i'm most aware of are the leclerc compact and the schacht wolf line, both of which fold up to about half of their unfolded depth. they're still not small—i think that they're both the better part of 75cm (30") wide and tall, so even if they fold down to 40cm (16") deep, they're still 75cm wide and tall. which is Fairly Large, though much better than having something 80cm deep sitting in the middle of the floor.

this was a very, very long post, but hopefully makes it clear that there's a surprisingly wide range of options, and they all have advantages and trade offs. if you're asking my opinion, my suggestion would be to try something—anything—with a backstrap setup and see how you feel about it. maybe you love it and keep at it forever, in which case you're in good company: there are entire cultures that weave exclusively on backstrap looms.

if you like producing cloth but don't love the backstrap setup, or don't like using your body to tension the warp, you have a lot of other options, and you're out maybe ten dollars of dowels.

personally, my next loom is probably going to be a pin loom. unless i win lotto, in which case it's going to be a house that has a weaving studio and like four floor looms in it. but probably a pin loom.

[skzpvol]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ MEMORIES - lee minho ࿐ྂ

pairing: exbf!minho x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: toxic relationship, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, reader is very rude (can you blame them?) and yeah general sad behaviors

wc: 3.1k

synopsis: you loved the song “Memories” but it hits different when you start to realize that the song is talking about your current relationship with your ex boyfriend.

a/n (1): this fic is inspired by this. Listen to “Memories” by Conan Gray before starting. English is not my first language so please let me know if I made some mistakes!

It’s been a couple of month,

that’s just about enough time

for me to stop crying when i look at all the pictures

now I kinda smile, I haven’t felt that in a while

Once you set foot in the apartment, you immediately regretted the choice. You already noticed that when you couldn’t stop shaking when you turned the keys in the lock. It had only been two months, yet it seemed that time had never stopped. You thought you’d never come into that place again, but you were there now, in that outdated entrance. Dusty sofa, messy kitchen and locked bedroom. You thought you’d never come into that place again, you were sure, but you were there now. The apartment was exactly as you remembered it, exactly as you remembered it before you ended your relationship with Minho.

With the box in hand you continued your walk towards the sofa, but each step corresponded to a stab in the chest. Every important moment was enclosed in those 4 walls. In that house you could retrace all the steps of your past relationship. Although the wounds were not yet fully healed, you also felt a strong sense of acceptance and peace. Each photograph, still carefully hung, made you unintentionally bruise a smile.

You miss him. You know that. But there’s no going back. Even though he was the best thing in life, you couldn’t go back.

You put the box down before closing your eyes and feeling the atmosphere. The rain that lightly slammed on the glass, the heating fan that started to work and the indelible smell of autumn leaves still imprinted on your clothes. If it wasn’t for the purpose of your return, you would have said it was one of the quietest moments in your life.

It’s late, I hear the door

Bell ringing, and it’s pouring

I open up that door, see your brown eyes at the entrance

you just wanna talk, and I can’t turn away a wet dog

Before you could do anything else, a loud noise interrupted the moment and you were forced to approach the door. Someone rang the bell, and the first thing you did was cross your fingers.

Please don’t be him.

When you opened the door, the new world built in recent months collapsed completely. Seeing those familiar brown eyes, you also saw all the pain that that man made you feel. You would also retrace the day when you promised that for nothing in the world you would give him another chance. There’s no way in hell you’d let the man you loved the most in the world scratch the armor of your heart again. What you had been through was still hard to swallow, and God knows how many times you prayed for the man in front of you to leave you alone. But apparently, the latter didn’t even seem to care. You wanted to slam the door in his face, but nothing could be compared to the way he hurt you. And so you did.

«please y/n» the boy took the door before you could close it completely. «I-I just want to talk- please»

Even though you wanted to yell at him, tell him how much you hated him and get him out of your life for good, you just couldn’t.

You couldn’t do it.

You noticed how thin he was, the bags and dark circles under his swollen eyes and his clothes completely wet because of the storm that had been falling undaunted for two hours. With the empty bottle of soju in his hand, Minho kept looking at you and wondering if you felt what he was feeling.

He certainly felt remorse and shame. But the most fragile thing was repentance. He was so sorry for what he did to you. He had ruined your life and ruined the relationships you were going to have from there. He would have done anything to go back. Even quit his job if it was necessary. But he couldn’t. He had to accept the truth as it was. He had to accept that there would never be a future for you again.

But please, don’t ruin this for me

Please, don’t make it harder than it already is

I’m trying to get over this

«please y/n» Minho approached you. And you were there. Unmoved, hoping that everything that was going on was just happening in your head and that that was another nightmare you’d wake up from.

«y/n, i just want to-» «don’t you dare to touch me» you shook your ex-boyfriend’s hand, but inevitably the door was wide open and you were definitely too far away to close it. His eyes were hooked to yours, and as much as it hurt, you couldn’t stop looking at him. It was so weird to see him like that. And even though it was only two months later, you couldn’t recognize him. It was as if he had let go, as if he had put his health in second place.

Minho started getting closer, and every step of the way, you took one back.

"There’s no way in hell you’d give him another chance" was the only thought in your body.

«c-can we talk?»

«i don’t want to listen to you» you tried to say. «give me only 5 minutes, please» he took your hands and squeezed them, but you didn’t do anything to stop him. You only hoped that your eyes would speak louder and that they would get Minho kicked out of your apartment. And it was weird to think that little house was all yours now. To think that no more than two months ago you shared it with the man you hoped would stay by your side forever. Or rather, with the man who promised to stay with you forever.

I wish that you would stay in my memories

But you show up today just to ruin things

I wanna put in the past ‘cause I’m traumatized

but you’re not letting me do ‘cause tonight

You decided to step away from the edge of the door and go to the kitchen. You didn’t want to lower your guard and show weakness in front of him. You had done it so many times and now you had neither the courage nor the will to do it, you had many weaknesses and Minho knew them all. But now you didn’t mean for him to penetrate your emotions. You were sick of his toxic side and you were so happy to be free of it. Then why did you feel a strong grip on your heart every time you crossed his gaze?

«only 5 minutes and you’ll n-never see me again, but p-please give me 5 minutes» Minho slowly walked into the kitchen but didn’t come near you. Despite the alcohol in his system, he knew he didn’t have to come near you to make you listen. Minho knew all the crap you felt for him, he knew all the pain he had made you feel and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you again.

Meanwhile, you were there, your mind retracing every second of your past relationship and all the mistakes you both made. Your eyes that begged you to let out tears and your hands that didn’t even ask your permission, on the contrary, started shaking like leaves and you didn’t even notice. He was the past, and you would do anything to make sure he wasn’t in your present.

you’re all drunk in my kitchen, curled in a fetal position

to busy playing the victim to be listening to me when I say

“I wish that you would stay in my memories”

in my memories, stay in my memories

«get out Minho, you are drunk, and i don’t want to have this conversation when you are definitely not sane» before letting it continue you corrected yourself. «in fact, I don’t want to talk to you and that’s it» The man in front of you frowned and it seemed that he also was struggling to hold back tears.

And you turned around because seeing him like that made you think you were the architect. It was your fault that the most beautiful relationship you had ever had was completely dissolved. "It’s all my fault, all my fault, mine, mine" was the only thought that came up every time you saw his tears.

You didn’t deserve to feel this way after what he made you feel. If everything was gone, it was because of him.

«please» Minho knelt down. He knelt before you for the second time. The first was always in this apartment, exactly one week after you moved in.

"You probably would have preferred me to ask you at another time and not in the new kitchen that is still dirty and needs fixing. But ever since I bought this ring, I can’t help myself, and I need to ask. y/n l/n, I never believed in forevers, but it’s been 5 years since we’ve been together and you’re the reason I started to believe that something can actually last forever. You know, I’ve always been undecided, but one thing I’m sure of, y/n. You’re the person I want by my side forever, you’re the person I love, and you’ll always be everything I need. And I want to live forever more moments like this with you. And I’m asking you here, in the dust and the boxes, to marry me. Give me the honor of continuing to believe in forevers with you"

Too bad that forever was very short.

«You know it hurts? It hurts to see you here after 2 months since we broke up» you had decided to look at him but your eyes had stopped fighting and now your cheeks were wet. «And what’s even more fun is that I was well again. I had finally managed to get you out of my mind and continue my life. I had managed to make you only a memory. And I» your hand violently cast away tears. It was hard to talk, but if he wanted to talk, then you’d make sure you had the last word. «I only hoped that you would remain in my memories»

«but I don’t want to remain your memory y/n» Minho almost screamed but from his voice you managed to perceive despair not anger. «y/n, I was like this when I asked you to marry me, remember?» the boy got up and knelt before you again. But this time he managed to take your hands and you once again did nothing.

«This was the ring that you gave me. I-I still have it, see?» Minho raised a hand in front of your face and the first thing your eyes fell on was the silver ring you gave him on your fifth anniversary.

«I told you I would never take it off. I told you I would keep it on my deathbed too» the boy still took your hands.

«Minho you’re raving, stop-»

«I still have 4 minutes, listen to me» his eyes did not go away from yours. But as much as you wanted to be strong, your legs were about to give out, and all those moments that Minho was making you voluntarily remember made you fragile. Maybe even too much.

«Do you know why I still have it? Because it is the only thing I have left of you. I have nothing left y/n. Even your perfume has completely left my clothes. I have nothing left. And I need you, just like I told you when I proposed» The boy got up before continuing, but his hands did not leave yours that he was not going to stop shaking. «I know that what I have done is unforgivable-» «if you know then why are you here?» You tried to say, but he interrupted you again.

«Because I don’t want to give up. I can’t live without you anymore y/n. I stopped doing all the things we did together because the pain is too much to bear. Soonie is always waiting for you at the door and Dori is always on the left side of the bed. And it’s heartbreaking y/n. It’s heartbreaking to know that you won’t walk through that door or that you won’t be on that side of the bed anymore. I have tried to go further, to think of something else or to know someone, but how can I concentrate on a new person when you are the only person who constantly occupies my thoughts? You are the only person I love, the only person who makes me feel alive. Y/n you are my light and since you are not there, I have only darkness around me»

Minho stopped so unexpectedly that you were paralyzed for a second. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Every word he said meant a punch in the face.

now I can’t say “Goodbye”

if you’ll stay here the whole night

you know it’s to find an end to something that you keep beginning

over and over again

«Why didn’t you try to protect that light then? Why did you prefer to fucking blow on it at any moment?» You pushed him away, he was so close to your body that you couldn’t breathe. And you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know whether to scream, keep crying, throw him away, or just sit and talk to him.

Minho, however, did not answer, he continued to scrutinize you, also completely tired from the tears. He was silent, perhaps because he was looking for the right words to continue or maybe because he simply had nothing to say.

«you’re so selfish» you started saying. You said it so quietly that you thought he didn’t hear it, but he was actually just waiting for you to go on. «you have continued to tell me how much you have been bad, how much I have made you suffer, how much you have done everything in order to go on, how much you can’t live anymore, but you have not minimally thought about how did i feel, how much did I suffer?» Your finger hit his chest repeatedly as you emphasized the "you".

«I know what I did is unforgivable» again. "Maybe you didn’t understand" you thought. And you were tired. Fed up with the fact that he hadn’t looked at reality yet.

«you cheated on me Minho» you shouted hoping that it would hurt less. Hoping that the wound would not open quickly. But you also felt satisfaction when you noticed that the statement hurt him more. Minho walked away slowly but without looking away from you. His body had also begun to tremble. And you were at least grateful that the pain was mutual. The only difference was that you felt anger and disappointment, but he felt a strong sense of disgust with himself. He knew he had broken the most precious thing in the world, but he didn’t think hearing it had that kind of impact.

«How could I forgive you after such a thing?»

I promise that the ending always stays the same

so there’s no good reason in make-believing

that we could ever exist again

«Let’s start all over again» Minho tried everything for everything, but a part of him knew what the answer would have been. «are you kidding?» They were the only words that came out of your mouth before you left.

You couldn’t believe it. Once again he couldn’t respect your limits. Once again he had crossed the line that you had barely drawn.

«I need you y/n» you turned again and your arms embraced you throughout your waist, maybe to seek some comfort. «and I need you to leave me alone» you didn’t even try to drive away the tears. What was the point anyway?

«y/n, i-i love you and if we tried-» «there is no "we" Minho! There will never be a "we" because you decided to ruin everything!» no longer mattered to you. Even if he saw you crying or screaming or despairing, it wouldn’t have changed anything. And if there was one thing you learned especially after your relationship with Minho, it was that you couldn’t keep it all inside because then you would explode. Just like at that moment. You fell to the ground and with your eyes closed you hoped again that everything was just a dream. A nightmare.

«Go away Minho» you begged him again. But he had another plan.

I can’t be your friend, can’t be your lover

can’t be the reason we hold back each other from falling in love

with somebody other than me

He sat before you and took your hands again. «I still want you in my life. I know it’s too much to bear but we can remain friends for a while. We can stay in touch and-» for the nth time that night you interrupted him. «friends? Minho how can I be your friend if every time I look at you I only see disgust» you tried to free yourself from the grip but it was all useless because you felt too weak.

«don’t do this to me» Minho cried again. He cried and he didn’t even do anything to stop. He was just looking at you. And a small part of him, a very small part of him, was hoping that you could feel mercy to see him like this.

«I can no longer have you in my life Minho. I must go on, we must go on»

«how can I go on when you are the reason why I will never fall in love again» he was more serious, probably because he wanted you to understand it 100%. But as time went on, the more he heard your answers, his hopes slowly drifted away. There was nothing left in his soul but a huge void. He shattered your heart into a million pieces, and you probably still had a hard time picking them all up. He couldn’t go back, he couldn’t change. Everything he did was irreversible and Minho finally figured it out.

«My light has gone out definitively» the phrase caught you by surprise and you looked at him immediately. You no longer saw sadness on his face, but only a great and profound resignation. It’s like nothing ever happened and he wrapped you in a hug. A hug as warm as cold because it would probably be the last.

«Thank you for making me believe in forevers» he cupped your cheeks and his thumbs gently removed your tears. «but I think that from now on I won’t believe in it anymore», a slight smile hinted before continuing.

«I will love you forever and you will always be the only owner of my heart» a kiss on the forehead was the last touch that Minho gave you.

And without adding anything else, he stood up and walked to the door and you followed him slowly. You couldn’t believe it. Was it over? You must have felt relieved, especially after everything he said to you. Then why did you feel this great weight on your heart?

«You know Minho, not only you lost your light that day» Minho turned to the sound of your voice and opened his eyes a little.

«you were my sun» Still with tears in your eyes, you smiled at him.

«I am sorry for all the pain that I have provoked you, but I beg you, make that light shines again. There is someone out there who will take care of it, certainly better than me» he said.

Once he turned around, you closed the door and you were ready to finally close that chapter of your life. That night was the last time you spoke to Lee Minho, but it was also the first time in months that you felt free.

You were ready to shine again.

a/n (2): OMG HI HOW ARE YOU??? It’s been so long since the last time I posted and I’m so sorry for my inactivity. I didn’t have much motivation to write during the last few months so I preferred to take a rest. Btw, I really hope you enjoyed my new work and I’m not that kind of person but I’d really appreciate if you could like and reblog it 🫶🏻. I’d also really appreciate some opinions about it. This took me so long but it’s personally one of my favorite. School break is over in less than 4 days and idk how much active I will be but I’m always on Tumblr. Feel free to contact me or anything! Thank you so much for reading, your support helps me so much. Have a nice day/night ❤️

[ihateapbiology]

One for the road

tw- kinda smut not really but kinda

You had just recently moved into the city, and your best friend phoebe invited you to come to some get together at her friend julien's apartment. you're tired and not realizing julien's been noticing you. when people begin to leave, you still haven't been picked up and julien sees you sitting on the couch.

“you're runnin' pretty low on your drink, d'ya want me to make you another one for the road?”

You perk up hearing the faint southern accent, a little reminder of the home you were missing, but also resenting all at the same time.

“Hey another southerner?” You ask.

She smirks “yep where you from?”

“Oklahoma” you respond “yeah I know most exciting state ever.”

“So you familiar with tornados and…” she laughs drawing a blank.

“Small town Oklahoma so I’m familiar with tornados and the Bible.” You laugh.

“Well we can cheers to that.” She laughs and she holds up her soda.

You start to relax more into the couch actually enjoying yourself now.

“So what brings you to NYC?” She says.

“School and so I came up for like undergrad right and then stayed for grad school.” You say.

“Wow cool so do you miss the south.” She asks.

You raise your eyebrows surprised but enjoying how she’s past the usual small talk. “Yes..and no… I miss you know being around what I know, and knowing everyone having that community feel but then I also enjoy being able to be lesbian and not you know have the local priest act like I killed someone.”

She gives you a sad smile “yeah it’s tough even when you have people who accept you, like my parents were accepting but it was still I guess lonely ya know. Not a lot of people out like you, resources.”

You nod “BUT you do know what I hate how people act like the south is like hell and every person from the south is like the worst person ever.”

You guys continue talking and talking “ughh I should probably go cause I’m gettin myself home and don’t wanna be walking home at 3am alone.”

She bites her lip “wellllll you could always stay the night with me.” She puts a handle on your thigh.

You grin enjoying her more blatant flirting “oh yeah? Would I be sleeping on the couch or…”

She starts to pull you up “yeah ain’t no way.”

You follow fast and the second she closes her bedroom door she pins you against the wall.

“Mmmm I’ve been wanting to kiss you all fucking night” she grins looking at your lips.

“Well do it.” You challenge.

Your lips collides, starting gentle and then soon becomes more passionate. You gently bite her lip testing the waters and when you hear her respond with a soft moan and continue.

A flurry of discarded clothes, pillows flying, and moans later.

You stare up at the ceiling like you saw God. You swear you can still feel her hands over your body, her tattooed hands..everywhere.

“Holy shit.” You utter

She just gently kisses your temple.

She gets up.

shit. You were just a hookup.

You at least thought she was gonna say something.

You gingerly grab your clothes and put them back on and head for the door.

“You trying to bolt baby?” She emerges from the bathroom with a washcloth and water.

“Wh-what oh I well okay I didn’t wanna like intrude you know cause you went to the bathroom.” You explain awkwardly.

She laughs “Honey…we just had sex …you ain’t intruding..”

“Well I mean I thought you left.”

“I’m just getting you stuff lay down I said you’re spending the night. You’re spending the night. I don’t just want a hookup from you.”

You blush and sit down back on the bed. Julien gently massages your shoulders and then cleans up your thighs.

Soon you’re fast asleep on her chest. She gently strokes your hair and gives your cheek a kiss.

[herotome]

Devlog #125

Hi-ho, Wudge here! Gosh! I missed last week's update.

Happy holidays from Herotome!!

I haven't drawn anything this year-- oh but hmm, I could do a quick edit, here -

Tadah! For anyone who hasn't already seen it, we got those 50 reblogs to make Warden shirtless! A pure version without the christmas lights went up yesterday, just scroll down my blog a bit or check out the #ro: warden hashtag.

I'm pleased with how much mileage I'm already getting from this picture, ha.

Anyway.

Seems like I'm gonna be focused on writing new scenes and drawing expressions for a while. They're some of the more tedious tasks for me, so I'll certainly be looking for every opportunity to do other things on the side - like coding.

Today I've decided that the LI sprites should have their eyebrows on a separate layer from the rest of their face, to offer me the greatest amount of variety in creating new expressions - and I've come up with a naming system for it, too!

I'm looking forward to implementing this. Eyebrow shapes have much, much less variety compared to mouth shapes, so I might even finish drawing every possible eyebrow for every LI sometime soon. I've already gotten a strong start with Warden and Mia's eyebrows.

Speaking of, I did turn in more expressions over on Ko-Fi!

Tadah!! Thank you again to everyone who has donated so far!

I'm realizing that in the set dedicated to Dia, Warden and Mia have the same mouth shape on the upper right side... A fascinating subconscious decision on my part.

Outside of art, I did write... once. Er, it went pretty okay. I'm usually the biggest hater of my first drafts.

I think my goal is gonna be to show off the abilities of all the characters as equally as I can; Warden and Jade have had their time to shine (during the job fair and flying MC home, respectively), and I think MC, Griffin, and Mia are gonna be queued up next.

I'll put the rest under a cut for potential spoilers and further rambling - as always, if you don't see the cut, make sure to check out my blog directly!

I have a good idea of what I wanna do with Griffin (it may or may not involve obliterating your rent debt, and I may or may not have written about that in the first-draft-I-don't-hate).

I've been thinking that this scene would involve a change of clothes btw, and did some fashion concepts for Griffin that I also don't hate;

I'm not super sure what I'm gonna do for Mia's eventual ~special show-off scene~, but I'm sure it will come to me.

For MC, I want to show off her relationship with the city, and showcase how qualified she is for the job in a low-key way. I recently discussed with a friend how Men in Black is a huge source of inspiration for me... Y'all know the scene where Will Smith has his interview and did things differently from all the other candidates?? I kinda wanna capture that vibe...!

And ah... I think that's about it, Herotome-wise.

Wudge-wise, honesty hour - I've had ssssome mild health concerns this year.

I don't want to go into detail; I want to say it's been like... nothing life threatening, thankfully, but a lot of small physical inconveniences that pile up and make it harder to concentrate.

I did rest a lot last week so no worries. <3 It's just that parts of my body have been weird and annoying, and I think it's helpful to acknowledge that the flesh prison can be a weird and annoying place. But I value it! And I'm doing my best to take care of it. Health comes first, etc, etc.

With this new year, I hope you guys take care of yourselves as best as you can, too. The person who's most qualified to take care of you is you!!!

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

[territorial-tarot-tahr]

I was bored. It was meant to just be Cyberpunk-2077 smut but I got carried away.

Word count: 9.3k+

CW: kinda suicidal and depressive thoughts. There's also sexual content inside though it is not the focus.

Summary: V tries to relieve stress after bottling up emotions.

If you found my A03 from this, no you didn't. Shut up.

There are spoilers for the game Cyberpunk-2077.

🚨Go to my main account "rorschach-retrograding-rotary" for commissions or requests🚨

🚨This was not proof read and I hate reading my work so I have no intention of proof reading it🚨

Feel free to commission me or donate

𝕙𝕥𝕥𝕡𝕤://𝕜𝕠-𝕗𝕚.𝕔𝕠𝕞/𝕤𝕒𝕪_𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕤𝕖

The hiss of water as the shower turned on sent a sigh from her lips, the warm steam hit her in the face and promised a quickly achievable sense of cleanliness and relief after days of running through the filth covered streets of Night City. Blood, sweat, dirt and grime had made themselves at home in forming a layer, akin to a second skin underneath and on top of her clothes. Her hair practically crunched when she brought her hands to run through her tresses and push them out of her face. She gripped the sides of the sink, staring down the face that greeted her in the mirror as condensation covered the surface.

Dark bags under her eyes, an almost gaunt quality had taken over her face. A few weeks prior when she'd held her job at Arasaka tower through exploitive or deplorable manners of it needed, but typically through tossing enough money at whatever problem arose. The "old" V would've probably thought her current situation as unthinkable. Her? Running through alleys and picking up random jobs for cash to try and keep alive while also tracking down a way to keep a haywire biochip from eating away her brain. Nah. Lowly behavior. A cruel joke. Well hardy har-har. Funniest shit known to man.

She pulled back her gums for a moment, checking the small dribbles of blood that she spotted trickling from different cuts she'd scored from an almost constant set of scraps. The most recent fight with Razor had left her with enough respect on the streets than she knew what to do with, but an ache in her bones and muscles that left simply climbing the stairs to her apartment as a Herculean task.

Coughing up blood, bile and vomit had become a common occurrence as well. A migraine always tracing along the edges of her brain as she navigated different requests and jobs people tossed her way. She rubbed her fist over the mirror, clearing her face properly and allowing her eyes to trace her trembling form before the condensation devoured her visage again. Her right hand shook as she placed her pointer finger on the mirror and drew a shaky smiley face, almost in spite of herself.

"You're the reincarnation of Van Gogh. Mind turning on the radio?"

A disgruntled sigh left V's lips as her mental hitchhiker made his appearance. She spun on her heels with a spark of energy she hadn't realized she'd had, leaning against the rim of the sink as she watched the final pixels of Johnny's appearance settled in for the most part. Every few seconds she'd see him phase in and out of detail as he paced a few feet, lounged about on whatever debris or simply stared disapproving at whatever V was doing. A flash of bright cyan pixels that covered the entirety of his being occured as if on cue with V's train of thought.

"Just listen to the channel I've got." V brought her hand to her eyes, rubbing them a few times as if she might chase the fatigue away with a few scrubs.

"You've got shit taste in music. As a double, I've got no interest in feelin' like a wet cat."

There was always something that made things difficult with his almost parasitic relationship. If he was visible, great. He got to enjoy the same sensations that she did. Tapping into the receptors that the biochip had managed to already consume and replicate or that they were currently fighting for control over. The rollercoaster had been a fun treat for both of them and V would find herself often thinking about bringing up whatever giddy yelps he'd vocalized when the coaster had taken a nose dive down the tracks, the wind whipping through her hair and the smell of sea salt practically palpable. Whenever he decided to show his mug, he'd get to feel the the sun on his skin through V, get to feel the tang of liquor on her tongue, and the rough leather on her skin as she navigated the streets. During these times, he'd manage to tap into whatever technology she had wired into her skull, in turn her music and radio.

However, he could cut himself off from the sensations if he so chose. Slinking out of her body to leave her alone with the splitting hangover, leaving her to feel the violent punches of her opponents alone while he occasionally tossed out a comment or some kind of sarcastic encouragement. This usually resulted in a far lesser connection on his end as well. Staying out of her dopamine receptors, and nerve endings that would've given him the sensations, also resulted in a loss of connection to just about her entire head until he reestablished the connection.

He didn't want to feel the sensation of water on his skin but he still wanted music...great. and this was her problem how?

"It'll only be a couple minutes. You'll live." V rubbed the corner of her mouth as she waved a hand dismissively at him. She was met with a grimace from him as he opened his mouth, snapping out of and then into existence but in front of the curtain of the shower this time as he wiped his dry lips.

"Radio. Or I ain't screwing off and you get an audience for your shower."

𝘽𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝. 𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮?

His arms were crossed and the glare he was shooting her from behind his mirrored shades clearly stated that he was. He was still as a statue, determined in his decision, his jaw was set, a few strands of hair that lay in front of his eyes as he stared down at her. He wasn't particularly tall. V was sure she could point out a few people on the street who could easily trump him in size. And yet he was still held usually to the whim of V and where she decided to go and what she decided to do. She was sure his ego always took a beating whenever she shut down his ideas or suggestions, though he made sure to get his jabs in no matter what. Small battles he could win such as this.

V felt her eyebrows twitch as she leered at the engram, her hands ball-ed into fists at her side. She could always pop a few of Misty's pills, sure, but she was sure he'd come back with a passion whenever they wore off. Maybe even allowing himself to dip back into the violent and suicidal side he'd shown off in their first meeting.

"𝙋𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧."

She was cautiously optimistic now that he wouldn't parrot the sentiment again if put into the situation again. That they'd grown too close of "friends" for him to actively say he'd rather they both die together instead of exist with the notion that he a passenger in her brain and not at the wheel. Though a small part of her usually chimed up that she was giving too much credit. He may have found his vocabulary to involve more begrudgingly complimentary verbage and vocab towards her, but she was sure if pushed, he could find it in his heart to turn cruel and sour again. Maybe he didn't even care in the slightest about her well being and he was just buying time with a nice persona, hoping that she'd grow too attached and chicken out of getting rid of the biochip. Instead, letting him take over. Maybe he was-

"Earth to V." Dry humor in a haphazard tone. He snapped his fingers in front of her face before turning his pointer finger to the box on the counter by her couch.

"Radio. Water bill 'ill be sky high pretty soon."

She blinked for a few moments and flipped him the bird before storming off to the radio, tracing her fingers along the few buttons before flipping it on and listening to the music begin to fill what silence the static-crash of water droplets against the wall provided.

"Retro station. Might hear something of yours or some other fossil tune." Her snark was palpable but her fairly blank visage seemed to more than prove that it was more annoyance instead of anger that sparked her comment.

The distinct auditory cue of Johnny's disappearance resounded as V cast a glance over her shoulder. She managed to catch the final flashes of bright blue as his engram vanished from in front of the shower curtain and rematerialized on the couch, legs kicked high up on the back of the couch.

His face was upturned to the ceiling, his attention apparently too important to even toss her way now that he'd gotten what he'd wanted. Though he did give her a thumbs up, the metallic coating catching the light but not reflecting on anything properly on account of him not even being there. For something that didn't have any proper affect on the world as he was right now, he was an attention whore and still managed to cause her more strife than he had any right to on occasions.

She waved a hand absent-mindedly at him as she made her way to the shower sloughing off her jacket and boots which soon found a new home in a small pile by the sink. Her thumbs found the hook of her jeans, quickly finding herself casting another glance at Johnny, seemingly just to ensure his gaze had stayed intently focused on the ceiling, instead of a straying glance her way. Luckily, she was correct and his gaze was on the ceiling, the only proper change in behavior being he was making random gestures with his hands as he mouthed along the words to a song he seemingly recognized.

V wasn't sure if she could define the song by a genre even if held at gun point. In all honesty it just sounded like every other grunge rock band but evidently, Johnny enjoyed the sound enough to have not only listened to the song years before, but recognize it on a "retro" station after half a decade of hanging around in the mind-fuck that was "Cyberspace" as a whole.

She quickly yanked her top and pants off before slipping past the curtain and into the warm embrace of the water. Her gaze was low, focused on the stream of water as it stole the dirt, sweat and grime from her skin, leaving it to swirl on the floor of her shower before disappearing down the drain. She huffed softly, and dragged her nails along her scalp before slipping them through the strands of her hair, working knots out of her tresses.

The simple acts such as that were now things that seemed to be practically luxury now that she had barely had time to breath between jobs. There was always some Cyberpsycho causing a rampage, a race that needed to be run, or the emperor recent one, "Kerry's manager had signed a label without his knowledge and now all of a sudden it was her problem that needed solving too." After a few heated words had been shared, she'd found herself taking a picture for them, all together and smiling as if he hadn't been holding a gun at them and yelling like a loon mere moments before.

On the way home, she'd managed to find herself hit by a car after a few carless steps in the wrong direction and a few seconds spent focused trying to read a text from Claire and she'd found herself thrown across the street. The driver had quickly left and no one had said anything, 'course when she so much as made her ride jump the curb, every available unit had been on her ass before she could yell.

"Everyone, no matter what! Keep your eyes peeled for the gonk with the pink hair and Samurai jacket! No matter what she does, if you see her driving for even a split second, start shooting or T-bone her car!"

"Understood!"

Fuck off.

To be fair though, the last time she'd managed to mess up her driving, the police hadn't been there for a good long while, Instead johnny had also been keen on her about not scratching his ride after materializing in the passenger seat, insisting that she was being too reckless and should let him drive his Porsche instead.

"Show her how to really make it purr."

Screw off.

While Johnny taking over wasn't the worst thing known to man, it did leave her wife a killer headache and a queasy stomach. Especially the performance she'd allowed herself to be talked into as a last "hurrah" to Samurai. Her finger tips had been worked red if not bleeding, sure, but she could've sworn her ears had still been ringing, even hours after the gig had ended. Adrenaline still coursing through her body and making her feel more weary than she had any right to be when the high eventually ended.

She wiped water from her lashes, running her palm across the wet-canvas of her face as she exhaled. The warmth of her breath being lost in the swirl of steam that wafted form the steady flow of water. She blinked, a few droplets hanging on hard to her lashes as she stared down at her forearms as she held them firmly against the smooth tile of the shower wall. The vibrant colours of the Tyger Claw tattoo she'd gotten as well as the insufferable heart and arrow tattoo Johnny had gotten without her knowledge. She couldn't decide which tattoo made her more uncomfortable. The Tyger Claw's tattoo brought up memories of Wakako Okada and to some extent, Takemura, before he'd met his demise in the collapsing debris. If he'd managed to survive that, the Arasaka agents had probably ensured his brain had become well acquainted with a metric shit-ton of lead.

Takemura. Now that was someone she hadn't thought about in a hot minute. Why hadn't she? His blood was practically slathered on her hands, each handprint a deep crimson with all the other unfortunate souls she'd ended up killing on her own accord or simply as collateral damage. She'd planted bullet after bullet between the eyes of more people than she could count. Goro, Sampson, Jackie-

Jackie. That one still hurt. When they'd been sliding down the glass, the case containing the chip gripped tightly in his hand, she'd been sure she was going to die. The fall to the pavement below had driven a scream from her lips and she would've sworn up and down that she was was in more pain than she could put into words. Though the feeling that caught in her throat like bile when she'd seen Jackie clutching at the wound under his suit? Incomparable. His steps getting heavier as he trailer further and further behind, his breathing falling uneven as he attempted to continue shooting at enemies. The way his eyes had searched hers when they say in the car, a solemn expression on his face as he went limp. The way her breath had caught in her throat as she stared at his body- his mother. She had to tell his mother- she had to tell Misty- she had to- she had to-

Her throat tightened and her stomach churned as her knees buckled. A moment longer and she was forced to to watch whatever she'd recently ingested move down the drain, leaving her with a pale complexion and feeling grateful that Johnny had hopefully been too engrossed with the radio to hear her losing her lunch. It shouldn't have hurt so badly even this far past the actual event. Everytime she had saddled Scorpion's Apollo, she found herself feeling guilt gnaw at her mind. She owed it to Jackie to use his motorcycle, did she not? Though at the same time, she was terrified at the prospect of scratching it. Ruining the pristine condition he'd been convinced it had to be in. A bright coat of a paint and an engine that roared.

No. She didn't deserve to ruin that.

She would just fuck it up like she always seemed to.

As her stomach settled, she shoved her hair from her eyes again as she focused on the sensation of the tile against the tips of her fingers. The condensation clinging desperately to their section as V slid her hands back and forth across the tile. She was here. What was done was done. She could only hope she could do better in the future. A heavy exhale passed her lips as she blinked rapidly, the sound of the water slapping against the tiles filled the room, drowning out the sound of the radio in the other room.

Though the quiet chirp from her implants broke the monotony of the water before it could gain any proper standing. Panam. A nonchalant text about hearing about how the Aldecaldos had just moved again, a swift description of the environment before saying that she wished V was there. It set her stomach in knots again. Something she'd never managed to put into words was how desperately she had wanted to stay when Panam had offered. A moment of proper vulnerability as she attempted to explain why her staying would simply cause more strife than mirth. Though the Relic had malfunctioned and she'd fallen to her knees, waking up hours later. The explanation hadn't seemed in good place to put into words there. "I know you're worried that I'm dying but I'm not looking to burden you, bye!"

Panam wouldn't have allowed that excuse for a second. So instead, she'd gotten the concise phrasing that V had tried her best to keep to a script about. She was going to fix this. Fix the screwed up mess in her head and then she'd make her way back to Panam and she'd love among the nomads. Watch the setting sun fall beneath the dunes of desert rock and cacti, hear the wind whistle and the animals announce their presence during the dead of night. Spend hours around a campfire with people she could call family. But not right now. And not in the way V would like. Panam had rejected her advances before, seemingly downright uncomfortable much to the distress of a quickly apologetic V. V wanted something from Panam that she couldn't give, and she couldn't blame Panam for that. But she'd blame herself for being foolish enough to think it would work out.

V turned to the side, her back against the wall as she allowed herself to sit down on the shower floor, her gaze trained on the grout of the tiles as she laid her hands on her biceps, knees tucked to her chest as the water continued. She'd thought of them getting together since really the moment they'd met. A few anxious comments about beds or one room had been enough to tip Panam off, and V had spent that night laying in the twin bed staring at the wall, her back to Panam. Long hours spent envisioning and hoping that at some point she'd look over her shoulder and see Panam by the side of her bed, or that she'd find her lips meetings hers as she took a perch on the bed. But her sleepless night had ended with nothing except a few chortles from Johnny and a damp spot in her underwear.

The call came from the other room, though she didn't seem to care at the moment. "V! Mind toweling off and changing the station?" She was half-heartedly aware of the sound of the radio, the tune sounding more akin to something from a stereotypical boy band.

V moved a hand from her bicep, resting more on her hip as she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. An hour spent envisioning and day dreaming wouldn't hurt anybody. She brought her pointer and middle finger to rest slightly below her navel. It wasn't as though she was a virgin. She'd spread her legs more than a few times and allowed herself to be charmed by a few folks at bars. But she has never been big into masturbation.

"it's for lonely losers who can't get a proper lay." Would've probably been her response a while back. Well guess what, now she couldn't get a lay without having an almost perpetual spectator and commentator throwing in his two cents. A few moments chatting up a guy on Jig-Jig street had earned her a few comments from Johnny about how "This choom probably lets himself be cucked. Teeth like a beaver and hands that shake like a leaf. You really about to sleep with 'im? Everyone's got a low point I suppose." For the girls he'd jested about their tits, their hair, have much of their face was even 'ganic. Until eventually V had given up. Even if she'd managed to work through those comments, she'd have still be left with him casting judgement the minute the Omega Blockers wore off.

"Hundred eddies says you came faster than a choir boy getting dicked by a priest."

"Standards really got that low, huh?"

An endless barrage of condescending comments would probably be what she was met with whenever she came back to reality. Though in all fairness, it been a while since one of those comments had passed Johnny's lips. Or at least he made it more obvious that he meant it as good natured teasing as opposed to rabid mockery. Guess she was one of those sexually lonely losers now though.

"V! Station change. They're playing genuine shit now. I didn't listen to some of these songs when they came out so why the hell would I want to listen to them now?"

She ran her fingertips along the length of her vulva for a few moments, giving her clit a few flicks before sinking her fingers into the warmth of her cunt up to the second knuckle. It drove a startled grunt from her mouth, though she stifled it as best she could. A fake cough also being utilized Incase somehow Johnny heard her over the sound of the radio and the sound of the water. She felt like a skittish teen again, looking at pictures of things she's shouldn't have been, hands below the covers of her bed as she attempted to listen for the sound of her guardians footsteps.

Why the hell would Johnny care anyways? She'd already had the misfortune of viewing a memory of him screwing his old girlfriend, albeit that was from Brigitte's will and Johnny had held just as much influence over the viewing as V had. That is to say, they'd tossed a memory in his face and he'd been forced to relive it. Whether he considered it as a source of shame for his prior actions or a source of pride for his "glory days" she couldn't tell. It was always hard to pin things down with him. Though the point had still been that he had no control over what she saw or was tossed to watch in that instance. She on the other hand, was very much aware and in control of her actions.

Whatever. It was her body. After a few more moments, she went back to slow and tedious work with her fingers. Her thumbs rested on her clit, as she used her point and middle finger to work in and out of her cunt. She'd been expecting more of a reaction from herself in all honesty, some further flurry of arousal as she attempted to work herself up to an orgasm. Though she suspected her aforementioned views and the coinciding habits had very well left her as rusty in this area of expertise.

"Alright, just have to try something different."

V didn't own any sex toys. If she'd been horny, she'd find someone to sleep with. Instead, she let her eyes travel the walls of her shower in search of something to improvise with. Her shower walls were typically bare, though she'd bought a handled loofah a while back when she'd begun going to sleep in her undergarments and finding the stains of grime and blood that had been left in spots she couldn't reach. She reached up and over, unhooking the handle from the small hook she'd latched to the wall.

The whole item was probably a bit longer than her forearm, though she had little intention of pushing herself near that far. Instead, she attempted to mentally measure the length of the texture handle and the groves that sat in it, allowing someone's hand to grab hold of the tool easier. She'd never been the best at math or guess work but if she had to wager, she'd say that portion was maybe 5 or 6 inches long. She blinked and turned the item over in her hands a few times. She was desperate sure, but was she really this bored? ....yes

She turned the loofah part to face away from her, positioning the handle towards her cunt, where she began to languidly drag the handle up and down the length of her vulva. She watched the subtle twitch of her legs as the pressed and flicked her clit with the handle as she huffed softly. Another soft grunt left her lips as she sheathed the handle in the warmth of her cunt as she brought her left hand to wipe the droplets from her lashes. She tightened her grip on the handle before coaxing the ridge coated handle back and forth, a firm shove back in her pussy that made her brows furrow at the surprisingly unpleasant and dull pain that the contact made.

Maybe she was sore? Maybe this was how it was supposed to feel when she wasn't drunk as a skunk with the scent of liquor on her breath, enough alcohol in her blood to knock an elephant out and dull the feeling. A mental shrug fell over her as she pulled the handle out again, dragged further out and angled up so that the ridges bumped against her clit as it sunk back in. Another full pang. Fuck, what was she doing wrong? Seemingly out of frustration now, she worked harder, a thumb on her clit as she tried to fix her mistakes. A harder slam, a sharper angle. How was she this bad at something as simply as getting herself off? She-

"Knock it off or do it right." The voice was an uninvited intrusion, the sound of the pixels reforming hadn't even been heard by V as she cast her gaze to the voices direction to the form of Johnny standing in the doorway of the shower. V quickly yanked the handle out of her cunt, her eyes narrowed to allow a better leer as she gritted her teeth.

"Fuck off, Johnny!" It was barely a coherent sentence, blurted out in a way that sounded more akin to a tell of frustration rather than an attempt at communication. She'd let him use the radio. He was a lot of things, but she had at least expected to be able to count on him keeping his word for something as simple as staying out of the shower while she used it. What should've been basic courtesy had even been an exchange. Radio for alone time. And he couldn't even do that! He-

"Not happening. You're screwing yourself like a virgin." The reply was more matter-of-fact than what V enjoyed, though when she got her thoughts together to toss a mental message his way, she was cut off by his continued message. His arms were crossed, his head tilted so the crown rested against the wall that he was leaning against.

"Fuck, all the gonks in Night City and I still managed to get saddled with the only one who can't make 'erself see stars. You realize how bullshit that is? I-"

"Why is this any of your god damn business? Turned on the radio for you. Go listen to it."

She was met with an arched brow from him as he looked at her from over his glasses. The polarized aviators didn't have much light to catch from the surrounding environment, but the dull glow of her bathroom light still caught and brought an orange hue to the shades.

"Radio channel started playing shit. Asked you to come change it. You didn't. I figured you had to be listening to something pretty good if you couldn't hear me, so I tuned in only to find lo-and-behold, you were sitting there hammering that into your pussy. Wouldn't normally care, but considerin' I, as your glorious passenger have the luxury of getting tangled in your sensations, I figured I have a right and obligation to tell you: you're doing it wrong."

"Great. You told me. Now screw off."

"Options are, cheesy boy band radio, sensory deprivation, or feeling you try and jack-off. I pick the latest. And, since I'm such a generous brain tumor, I'll even offer you something."

"Unless it's you fucking off, I don't care."

"Whatever gonk it was that jammed that stick up your ass even further than it already was is a talented creature. I'll give 'em that." He fished in his pockets for a moment, absent-mindedly speaking as he yoinked a cigarette from the crumbled box on his pants. It wasn't as though his pack had nicotine or even gave any sensation when he smoked them, so V always ended up looking at him through scrunched eyes and a raised brow as he puffed. Small plumes of smoke curling in the air around him as he waved a hand to emphasize a point, ashes falling off the tip of the cigarette as his movements became more dramatic.

"Ain't like I'm asking you to pop one of the pills and let me grip the wheel. Just a little trust instead." His statement was followed by stare that made V's skin crawl as she haphazardly attempted to cover her breasts, her legs held close together in order to retain some form of dignity.

"Uh-huh. And what's this trust exercise get you? Another date with Rogue? Another 'boy's night out'?" The warm droplets of the torrent traced over the gooseflesh that had developed on her skin during the initial startle.

"Nothing more than what I'd be getting already. I'll just stay synced to you so we can actually screw off properly, unlike whatever the hell you'd call your activity. Plain impalement. Gonna bruise your cervix all wrong and make your hips ache. Though if you wanna bang yourself up enough so you end up wobbling around tomorrow like your boyfriend went overboard on you the night prior, feel free." Monotone. Deadpan....jerk. V's brows knitted together as she glared up at the musician. A few moments later and she found her nails digging hard crescents into her palm as the water pelted her.

His discomfort at the water seemed palpable, practically twitching at every droplet that hit her skin, though he held his ground as the offer filled the dead air with a pregnant pause. He'd made jabs about something as small as Kerry's offhanded tease about sleeping together. Her chastised her for her conversation with the Joy-Toy in Clouds. He'd insisted they should leave Judy to sulk in the cabin. A moment spent attempting to discuss her thoughts with Panam was met with him yammering away at how corny V was being or that Panam wouldn't be as understanding as V hoped.

Whoever spoke first, lost. It didn't matter what passed their lips at this point, whoever finished their "silent vigil" first, would be on the loosing end. And that wouldn't be V.

That. Wouldn't. Be. V.

Absolutely not.

Wouldn't be V.

No matter what.

Wouldn't be.....

"Pervert."

"Whore."

"Cuck."

"Skank."

Goddamnit.

V cursed herself as she watched take a knee in front of her in. The flecks of warm water droplets sending the pixels of his form into a frenzy as he squatted and situated in front of her. What the hell was he even going to do? The world's shittiest game of Simon Says? It seemed leagues stupider than it had been before.

"Well I mean- hold on-." Bashful didn't describe it properly, sheer embarrassed was probably the better word for her feelings at the moment.

"Gettin' antsy?"

"No, just-" Sorry, you just make me nervous and sometimes me heart feels like it's in my throat when I look at you. Hell no. Fat chance she would ever say that in front of him. Instead, she furrowed her brows and worked up an attempt at venom in her voice, trying to make the comment snide.

"Know sure as hell we aren't working with actual sex, so how do you have any 'perience with this style? Rogue and Alt prefer a dildo or a JoyToy and they let you sit in a chair to watch?" .....did that sound like anything? Shit, she hoped it did. Though Johnny's seemingly disinterested expression proved otherwise.

"I'm not the one fucking 'emself on a handle. Wanna keep running your mouth and I'll have no problem leaving you to whimper as you bruise yourself up." The gaze that he shot her was a narrowed eyed stare over the rim of his glasses. "You want my input or not?"

impudent. Unbelievable. Rather than attempt whatever staring contest he seemed intent on putting on, she turned her gaze to the side. Her line of sight lay solely on the shower wall now, watching the traces of condensation slide down the tiles in an race with endless opponents, ending with their demise as they hit the floor and joined the swirling mess of droplets that traveled to the drain, swept away in the pipes.

She was wasting water.

She was reminded of her time at her prior job, her shoes clicking quietly against the elevator floor as it took it's sweet time to bring her to higher floors of the tower. Files or miscellaneous papers had a permanent home in her hands, clutched to her chest or held by her side. But she always had somewhere to be and something to do. Another bonus assignment, another bullet to be subtly placed between someone's eyes. Another employee let go. Another ex-employee who seemed too lose lipped about company secrets needing a proper silencing. Someone to serve because her own wallet seemingly couldn't get fat enough.

She was wasting water.

She might've screwed up, sure. Gotten herself kicked out of the company. Gotten her privileges, her money, her status, everything revoked. She could live with that. It should've only affected her. She'd been sloppy. Should've covered her tracks. But it'd tossed her into Jackie's arms. Made her get more involved with the family. Made her bring him into further danger. Get him brought into a job he didn't need to take. Get him six feet under and her still alive. Why did she deserve to even live? She was a walking time bomb. Half her brain wasn't even her own, a Frankensteined mishmash of her's and Johnny's. She should've died in that car. Jackie would've known what to do. He would've had a better plan besides running around Night City desperately hoping someone could help. He would've figured something out. Or at least spent his last few months in a meaningful way. He had a mother and family that cared for him, that mourned him. What did V have? What would she have when she finally dropped dropped dead? What would Silverhand be met by? A stray cat that drank from the sink and a few motorcycles. She was a fuck-up.

She was wasting water.

"V?" A vibrant buzz of sensations along her face caught her attention. She might've jumped had it felt like her legs were willing, but instead she found herself simply snapping her gaze back to Johnny. She was met with a seemingly somber expression despite his recent snark.

"Everythin' good?"

Did she want to tell him? She didn't think he'd be winning any awards for sympathy anytime soon but it wasn't as though he was wholly apathetic to her. Divulge a bit. Share the psychological burden. It couldn't be that hard, right? Just say it. Say you felt guilty about Jackie. Say you weren't sure if you even wanted to be alive right now. Say sometimes you wished Johnny would take overall ready so you wouldn't have to live with a brain that seemed intent to make you feel like every second you were alive was a second wasted. Say it. Say-

"Just thinking about how you took your sweet fucking time before even deciding to offer help. Hoping that I'd be desperate enough for your input if you let me bang myself up a bit?"

"Don't lose your tits. Know damn well I don't have the luxury of getting your sensations the minute you do. Got your attention when I felt it." The sanely grin had returned to his face and she watched him pull his hand away from where he'd evidently touched at her face for her attention. As time had gone on and his own tumorous brain had begun to make the beginnings of nerves, they'd found that it was possible to get flashes of sensations of the other as if they were genuinely touching. His brain registered that he was touching something and as such attempted to make a copy of it for him to interact with in Cyberspace as he often did with stools, bottles or even when he leaned against or sat on something. Her brain, now half overridden with his, registered that and began to attempt to register his interaction with the copied item at the same time as it misfired and worked through the idea of seeing something touching her but not feeling it. His brain registered that he should feel her while also trying to copy her. Her brain registered trying to copy itself for him to interact with while also registering that she should feel something. All this culminated in a misfire on both their ends which usually manifested as a subtle buzz that traveled through her as though a dulled version of what happened last time she'd accidentally grabbed the metal prongs of a plug when she'd been pulling it from its socket.

It only lasted a second if that, but it was still something.

"Uh-huh, sure." Snide. Keep your tone level. V watched the way he had begun to flinch every few seconds. His face scrunching as if in disgust but quickly returning to what she considered his normally sneer not long after, flicking his face to the wall opposite side of the shower head when he did. V didn't envy his position, she couldn't be sure if his brain was registering all the droplets and slapping the sensation across his body every few seconds or if maybe he felt it as individual flecks hitting him. Whatever sensation it was, she found her mind likening it to Chinese Water Torture as she kept her gaze on his attempt at subtly or playing off his flinching as he kept his eyes locked onto hers.

V brought her hands to just barely grace the end of the handle, unsure where to rest her palms now that the attention was on her. Blush laid claim to her face as she attempted to keep her expression null, though he reached out all the same and brought his hand to rest on the hilt of the handle. Her hand snapped to attention as the same jolt was sent through her skin, retracting her digits to lay across her chest as though clutching at pearls.

Bzzzt

You're here? I'm here. You're here. I'm here?

Bzzzt

That was how V had chosen to envision the split second interaction between their brains as they confused themselves. Though it didn't matter much how she pictured the conversation. The "why" was not the main thought in her mind as she watched Johnny reach forward to try and put the sensation to use.

A momentary glance up at her seemed all the warning for his quick experiment before he rolled his point finger to lay curled on his thumb before snapping it forward to flick her clit with his chrome arm while his other hand resting gently on the handle.

A yelp had forced it's way from V's throat before she'd even registered the vocalization, leaving her seemingly just as startled by the noise as him. It hadn't burned and the sensation hadn't been entirely unpleasant, but the feeling had still shot through her in a white-hot burst. She could only suspect that the more unpleasant or seemingly more intense part of the sensation had now gone simply from the fact that the connection was moving through a simply more sensitive portion of her body. Similar, she supposed, to how a tattoo hurt more in certain areas than it did in others considering where you got it. Ribs, hands, neck, versus arm or legs. Her brows were scrunched together, almost in a scorn of disapproval as she attempted to keep a straight face and turn her attention to the side.

She believed he'd called it a "whore face". An argument had broken out between them over whether he could have the body to get a good lay. He claimed that 50 years of celibacy was more than any human should go through and she'd insisted he should drop dead. At that point he'd begun tossing out off-handed and almost off-handed comments in a way of coping with the disappointment. The fox calling the grapes sour as it were.

"Not interested in lookin' up and catching glance of the mirror above an' your whore face starin' back at me anyways." Had been his final comment, refusing elaboration before disappearing in an explosion of pixels and a flash of bright colours that lingered in the air for a moment or two afterwards. Regardless of if he'd meant it or not, the comment had stuck with her and she seemed intent to not give any of the illusive "whore face" if she could help it. If that meant staring like she'd had a lemon crammed in her mouth, so be it.

"Not even a smile? How'm I s'pose to know if I'm doin' a good job or not?" The snide smirk returned to his lips as he leaned to the left to try and keep in her gaze. A second later and she'd managed to wrangle her expression under control and she'd opened her mouth to speak, though he seemed acutely aware of this as his finger snapped forward from another nonchalant flick. Under normal circumstances she was sure she wouldn't find herself fighting the urge to yank her legs to her chest while she twitched from something as simple as her clit being flicked. Or at least not on the second or third flick. Though the seemingly spastic flurries of activity that his touch sparked in both their brains have V some kind of comfort and reassurance that this wasn't indeed normal circumstances.

"Just help already." An embarrassed whisper as she lay her left hand over her eyes.

"Couldn't quite her you. Gotta speak up for me, V." Jackass.

"Fuck me, Johnny!" Louder than she'd intended. Please don't let another noise complaint from her neighbors come her way. "...please." Less whiney. Curt. Good.

A roll of his eyes was the reaction she'd expected to be met with, and she was not surprised when he executed the action. His fingers rested on the handle again, the copy of the loofah forming almost instantly as the dull throb took hold of her cunt.

You're here? I'm here. You're here. I'm here?

Though now it worked from what she could only assume was Johnn's brain registering the use of cyberspace for objects as the same as himself.

I'm here. You're here. You must be me too.

You're here? I'm here. You're here. I'm here?

Whatever the fucking reason, V was glad it was in the coding or a glitch in the Biochip. Didn't feel like anyone had crammed a proper dick in her by any means but the dull shocks that came from the contact between his copy of the handle and her pussy were more than enough to make her yelp.

A soft whimper was dragged from her throat as she felt the languid motion of the handle dragging out slowly before sinking back in after making a circular motion at the end as if Johnny was cutting something with a knife. Pull back, lift up, push forward with motion in the hilt.

With her fingers lain across her eyes now, she turned her head to the side again. Her cheek brushing the wet tile of the wall as she let him repeat the motion a few more times over. The sensation of sparks zipping across and through her flesh as the contact continued, the hilt going as far deep as it could without bumping into one of her walls or her cervix sent a snap of sparks through her. The sensation made her clench her jaw and she might've sworn her heart had jumped into her throat if she hadn't felt it slamming like a truck in her chest.

Alongside the whimper that surprised her by slipping past her lips, she managed to hear it met with a soft grunt from her compatriot over the sound of the splashing water. The distinct chorus of the pixels of Johnny and the loofah copy loading in and out of existence as he worked filled in just about every second of empty audio space.

The rhythm of his motions had been set into a mental rut in her mind, only to be abruptly interrupted by the sensation of the sparks on her clit again as he laid his thumb on top of it. Letting the sensation repeat as he just barely graced the top in subtle bumps that sent jolts through her body. What ended up shocking her was the mewl that clawed its way out of her throat after a few moments as the bolt of energy flooded through her body again.

Her hand quickly slipped from her eyes, laying across her mouth in an attempt to keep further noises off her lips. Though a glance from her newly uncovered eyes showed her that Johnny seemed less than excited about the new situation.

"Gettin' shy? Seriously?" He might've meant it to sound sterner than it did, or maybe he'd simply choked on something, but she could've sworn his own voice warbling did show that to some extent, that the overwhelm of her senses and the borderline overstimulation was getting to him too.

She couldn't trust her voice and tongue to not screw up whatever snide comment or retort to try and take him down a peg. A warble in her throat from his pace picking up or maybe shoving the handle forward with the intent of tripping up her speech. Instead, she held her tied tongue and kept her hand laid across her mouth, though the small flecks of tears forming at the corners of her eyes seemed to say enough. It wasn't as though it felt perfect or even entirely pleasant to that extent, the jolt through her body served amazing stimulation sure, but the force of it, and even the sensation in it of itself also hurt.

It felt as though she'd banged her elbow on a table and the dull yet simultaneously all encompassing shock of her nerves trying desperately to try and figure out how to register the sensation had been spread through her whole body. She wouldn't pretend that some amount of the sensation wasn't pleasurable, but the amount of pleasure compared to the overwhelming static of emotions didn't serve as a fair trade off.

The handle bumped against her cervix again and she practically yelled from behind her hand. An impromptu orgasm rocking over her and finally driving the tears from her eyes and chasing them down her face as her breathing hitched. What surprised her, was when the burning sensation left her suddenly, torn from her as though someone had ripped a burning torch from between her legs.

She already suspected the reason, but she wasn't soon going to let herself admit that it'd been too much. The minute she looked over at Johnny, she'd be admitting that she cried from a single orgasm. Regardless of the fact that it'd felt like someone had been tearing up her inside with a dagger. Regardless of the fact that she wagered she'd rather take a bow of celibacy than have to deal with that same sensation anytime she found intimacy in others. Regardless, she was certain she'd still find herself being teased by Johnny about this. "Her breakdown" she was sure was what he'd call it. Something condescending or-

The sound of him leaving the environment in a burst of pixels took her by surprise, leaving her sitting alone in the shower.

~

Crawling into bed to sleep drew images of a wounded dog crawling into it's well-worn bed to lick its wounds. She could only imagine Johnny had spent the time in-between the moment in the shower and now, laughing to his hearts content in Cyberspace. She was sure the insults he'd toss her way when he rematerialized during whatever time suited him would be demeaning. Condescending. Whatever it was, she didn't want to hear it. Though the distinct sound of him snapping back into the visual plane drew her attention.

The sound came from behind her and she imagined he was probably sitting with his back against the wall, snide grin on his face and a cigarette gripped between his fingers. Maybe he wouldn't even let her sleep. Just chat her ear off or mock her. Though she wouldn't roll over completely and was already attempting to compile a list of retorts, specialized to his narcissistic, bombastic, rocker boy-

"Y'okay?"

A second or two passed....Concern? Was he goading her into seeming more pitiful than she already did? He hadn't sounded curt. He hadn't sounded particularly snarky either. A few more cautious seconds passed before she cast her gaze in his direction, looking at him over her shoulder. He didn't look as though he was waiting on the edge of his seat for an answer, eyes wide and chewing his lips in concern. But his brows were still twitching and seemed further scrunched than they typically were in his scornful glares. Actual concern.

Say you're fine. Say you're fine, tell him to fuck off and then continue with your shower. Tell him to go back to his stupid radio and leave you alone. Tell him-

"No."

"Didn't mean to hurt you that much in the shower. Don't know entirely about your pain tolerance but I just thought-"

"Fuck, Johnny, no it's not just that." She'd already returned her head to her pillow, staring across her upturned and well lived in apartment at Nibbles as he sat on the back of the couch and slept peacefully.

She could hear him open his mouth to speak, though he stayed quiet. Seemingly not finding the right words. Instead, she heard the shuffle of movement and saw his boots come into view at the foot of her bed an the corner of her eye to realize he was simply laying down on his back next to her, staring at the ceiling of her bed.

If she wanted to speak, now was her chance. Don't screw it up.

"I know-..."

Don't trail off. Speak now or forever hold your peace.

"I don't think I even deserve to be alive."

Silence. Crickets. A passing car. Johnny held his tongue.

Keep going.

"Started with Jackie. Well I mean, it didn't start with Jackie. Felt this way for a while but Jackie was the first real solid stake hold. Been thinking about how I should've been the one to die in that car. Bleed out and have my body sent nowhere. He had a family. He had people who needed him. People who missed him when he died. He was wheezing, panting like a dog and pale as a ghost but still refused to really let on that he knew he wasn't making it. He was strong. Just about everyone at that funeral knew it. In one was or another they'd all seen him act like their own personal savior. Caring boyfriend, trusted friend. They all had the right to mourn him. But Mama Welles asking me over there? What did I know him for? I spent six months taking their food, stealing a mother's boy away from her in order in earn scraps of eddies with him. I took someone's lover. He was a fighter sure, but he had a right to his own happiness and I just couldn't leave well enough alone. I tumbled in there like a damn tornado and screwed up everything that could've been. A moment of Jackie at Mama Welles bedside as she said goodbye. A moment of Jackie slippin' a ring on Misty's finger. Me? I don't even know who Delamain would've sent my corpse to. Probably couldn't kicked me into a dump without much fuss from anyone else. Goro too. He had a goal. He only got into proper trouble and that building with Hanako because of me and Jackie. He might've managed to actually get away or-"

"V. Goro would've died a Corpo dog. Shot in an alley in then dumped in a trash heap like worthless scum. He would've died without justified sense on his end. Yorinobu would've killed him and Goro would've taken it because of his whole bullshit obsession with honor. At least with you, he died for a cause he at least gave a fuck about. Do you really think he wouldn't have said 'no' if he had wanted out?"

"No, I just-"

"And I don't believe for a single second you'd trade Jackie's death for what you're doing now. Blood on your hands, vomit on the streets, bullets flying past your skull and not thinking you'll be around to see next summer. You wanna be emotional? Be emotional, you'd be trading his death, his death that meant something to you, for a death where he didn't even get to stay dead because I'd be livin' in his corpse. Forcing his family to see that, know that they couldn't bury their boy because they'd be killing someone else and 'Jackie wouldn't want that'. You wanna say you'd prefer a place where Misty really got to see Jackie rot from the inside-out as he stumbled through each day in a collapse and seizure ridden haze like you do? You want to make his mom see him like that.You wanna be pragmatic? Be pragmatic, you'd be leaving Jackie to suffer for six months as he scampered for help like you're doing. You'd be making those he loved watch him grow desperate, make deals with people he wouldn't bring around his family in desperate hopes of kicking his death date further away. I know you're sad. And I know-....Look I know it hurts, V. But thinking like that doesn't help anybody. And if sure as hell doesn't help you. I ain't saying you're a saint. I ain't saying you ain't made mistakes. But I want you to understand this, "

She couldn't be sure if he'd paused for effect or if it'd been unintentional, but she still found herself listening intently, even if she wouldn't admit it.

"Even though you may be a proper gonk sometimes, you've got a right to live, V. Don't forget it."

...oh.

Her breathing was soft. Shallow kitten licks of air as she stayed silent in fears of disturbing the bitter-sweet quiet that had settled over them. The small buzz of energy settled through her as she felt him rest his hand on her shoulder.

You're here? I'm here.

[qveerthe0ry]

thank you for the tag @perotovar ilysm <3

favorite painter: I can't say I've ever been super into painters but in high school art class I learned that Claude Monet developed cataracts and his paintings slowly got less and less defined and I always thought it was beautiful that we got to see what the world looked like to him even though it was also kinda sad

favorite writer: I literally haven't read a book in years lmao but I did always like JD Salinger. Anyone who's ever written queer Pedro boy fics - you're my favorite writer <3

favorite band: so many but the most consistent has been The Front Bottoms, they're always releasing bangers.

favorite meal and drink: Dr.Pepper Zero ALWAYS but at the moment my favorite meal is this Thai Chili Mango salad mix from Walmart with the General Tso's chicken from the deli counter (Walmart is like a 2 minute walk from where I live so I've been getting this a lot recently lol)

favorite outfit aesthetic: really into wearing masculine clothes but also having my tits out at the moment. It's been an experiment though. Most of the time I just dress like a boy in 4th grade

favorite singer: I'm just realizing I don't really listen to many singers??? Idk but Miley has been blowing my mind lately, and I can't get away from Chappell Roan on Tik Tok and have no qualms about it

favorite item i own/possession: I can't think of a serious answer but my best friend got me a Pedro blanket for my birthday and it is proudly displayed on the back of the chair in our living room and I love it <3

favorite perfume: omg Happy by Clinique is actually the only perfume/cologne I've ever really liked and I've been wearing it since college. I'm very picky about scents and I hate TOO fruity but I also hate TOO flowery. The best way I could describe it is if a new citrus was invented, that's what it would smell like.

np tags: @for-a-longlongtime @katareyoudrilling @fairycoreboyloser @jksprincess10 and anyone else who wants to!!

[cacklefrendly]

I love how you draw your gin and vodka!!!!!they so cool and cute!!!now I wonder what is you're gin backstory.like do he parent work with the organization or something like that??I'm just curious

:D AWW THANKIEEE ANON!! i keep telling myself that i'm gonna draw them being threatening and. it doesn't happen. they end up being sappy again. so im glad i'm not the only one who enjoys it regardless lmao

as for backstories. uh.

good question.

what backstory my personal versions of Gin and Vodka DO have — and my versions of the entire Black Org. team, too — is vague enough to be almost canon-compliant while leaving plenty of wiggle-room in case future canon declares any new information i think is interesting. it's not a tactical choice! working around canon to make things complicated is part of what makes playing with side characters fun for me. :>

also i'll admit: i usually don't think much about a character's childhood unless it gives something meaningful to the story. i don't think it matters too much why Gin got into the Black Organization? to me, it matters more that he's there and making it everyone else's problem :P i might change my mind later though, we'll see!!

for Gin and Vodka, at least, their backstories are more of a years-long, vaguely three-arc showcase of who they are at wildly different points in their lives together, which has some really interesting moments implied but not explicitly stated.

just for fun, here's a synopsis of those 'Arcs': (i remembered to write a transcript this time, it's under the read-more)

“ARC” 1: SETUP (met once, briefly, by accident.)

VODKA (asides: “Just some dude” & “he uses cheap ballpoints and it hurts my soul. he gets better I promise.”)

maybe grew up in a rural area?

recently finished college, working at one of the Black Organization's front companies

dealing with being a closeted gay man while also trying not to get involved in normal office drama and still hear all the gossip

Very Aware that the company is doing some shady illegal stuff and is SUPER CURIOUS, but 1), he'd like to keep being payed thank you, and 2), he has enough self-preservation to know better than to go snooping

honestly he's just Some Guy

GIN (asides: “dysphoria hoodie” & “[PROTOTYPE] called, Alex wants his damn clothes back.”)

where did you even come from-

working as a low-level assassin with the Black Organization but already starting to garner attention from some of the higher-ups

aggressive, paranoid, AND experiencing dysphoria all at the same time!!! uh oh!!

dealing with the gradual realization that being trans is. a Thing. while also having a really bad-ass action movie as a life, complete with betrayal and murder and explosions

starts transitioning after he climbs the Organization's ranks enough to carve out a place he KNOWS he's safe and can relax

“ARC” 2: MEET-NOT-CUTE (a year or two after “Arc” 1)

VODKA

suffering from the aftermath of The Incident and trying to grapple with the fact that he's been working for an international crime syndicate

and trying to understand his role in all of this mess

and trying not to get killed by his new boss

AND is trying not to think about the fact that his new boss is SO scary and mean

AND trying SO HARD NOT TO THINK ABOUT HOW HE'S KINDA INTO THAT-

GIN

high-ranked enough that he can no longer keep working alone and he HATES IT SO MUCH

it's not just a blow to his pride, it's also all the paranoia. it's mostly the paranoia, to be quite honest

called dibs on the most harmless, pathetic-looking man he could find who still seemed to be useful. and that man was Vodka

even so, spends a good while CONVINCED that Vodka will turn on him if Gin gives him the chance.

BOTH

Gin keeps trying to bait Vodka into trying to kill him and is infuriated as nothing happens.

Vodka sees the bait and is confused at first, later horrified when he figures out what Gin's expecting him to do

as Vodka shows his usefulness, Gin starts to calm down. full-on Trust takes several years to develop

the first time Gin falls Asleep near Vodka freaks Gin out more than a little

“ARC” 3: GET A FUCKIN ROOM (roughly a few years before and into Canon)

Vodka: “If you want coffee you gotta’ let go.” Gin: “*unintelligible sounds of disapproval*”

they aren't in a romantic relationship. they haven't even had a one-night stand. and yet they carry a very "aging gays who've been married for 30 years" energy. it drives the Team up the wall.

before the Trust developed, Vodka let Gin control/initiate all contact as an appeasement/self-preservation strategy. at this point he still does it, but out of habit more than anything.

plot twist, Gin's actually super tactile with people he trusts. he invades Vodka's personal space constantly. it's especially bad when he's cold or tired (so, most of the time)

they know each other's boundaries very well even though they never, like, sat down and talked about it. it's been trial and error thus far. it helps that they're also good at reading each other.

Vodka's uncomfortable attraction turned into a crush, which turned into quiet love. Gin's wariness turned into trust, which turned into love. BUT Gin's doesn't think much about trust OR romance so he's not actually aware (yet) that his feelings for Vodka are more than Really Strong Trust. he also doesn't know Vodka's feelings for him (YET)

there are so many ways this fucking slow-burn could end and I love all of them too much to pick just one

[bibiscate]

Took long enough but I finally made Usagi!!

Couldn’t decide what kinda clothing would look better in this version, so I did more than one

He also got those cool mystic swords but unfortunately they are broken, ops

Okay, so, headcanons ahead:

Since rise is really creative with it’s characters, I wanted a new creative introduction for Usagi this time, maybe more of a backstory when compared to his 2003/2012 self.

I also wanted to do something he would hate for conflict dksalfjsa

So here it goes

Born a Yokai to a important family that serves the Council of Heads for centuries

Is expected that he, too, would be one of their agents or guards

But Usagi was kind of a rebel and didn’t like that

He followed the rules just enough to not get in trouble, but it didn’t take long for his attitude to put him in a tight spot

Maybe he was caught doing things he shouldn’t, or maybe he was framed for things he didn’t do. Probably both but don’t know what he did exactly

The Council was furious. He was convicted as a criminal and later, one of the city's most wanted fugitives

Part of his punishment was being used as a test subjct with an experimental liquid the Council was making

Usagi wasn’t told what that liquid would, or could do, nor about the intentions the Council had in using it

The result: He was cursed to transform into... a rabbit. A normal one.

Yes I just did that just for plot and because I think he would hate it more than an actual felony sentence lol

Only the same liquid could turn him back, and he would never have the chance, as the other part of his sentence was: perpetual imprisonment. Yay!

Shenanigans happens, he manages to escape

But he’s still a bunny and still a fugitive

While he was being chased, he managed to flee as far away as possible, to the least unlikely place they would look for him, the surface.

Of course they wouldn't risk it, right?

Wrong

With guards disguised with cloaking broches looking for him at all times, he was accidentally found by a human child, who found him ‘far too cute' and so he was kidnapped adopted

A Lilo & Stitch situation ensues, where he takes the opportunity to escape his pursuers

At first, only using the child for his benefit, little by little he realizes that the chances of him returning to his old life are almost none, he starts to get used to the life of a pet, regrettably, of course.

Years later, still having the habit of running away and doing anything he feels like doing, Usagi senses the familiar aura of mystical objects. Weapons, powerful ones

He discovers four strange turtles, neither yokai nor humans

Thinks it has something to do with the liquid they used on him, or "ooze" as they called it

Sooner or later he would accidentally attract their attention, and his owner, who always goes after him when he runs away would too come to find him adn the turtles. After some akward first meeting and finding out more about them and about mutants, he thinks that the best option for him is to stay close to these beings, as strange as they are.

With a friendship forming between the turtles and his owner, it didn’t take long for them to become one of the oozequito’s victims.

Thankfully, Usagi bravely saves them from becoming a mutant by... eating... the... insect

Half an hour later, there's a mutant/rabbit yokai in Donnie's lab, and a lot of explaining to do.

Maybe I’ll post more about his personality, but later, now I tired kdsak

Also will soon post about his ‘’owner’’ who is my recently revamped oc!! Yes I sorry if you think that’s cringe but I still doing it lol

it’s the only way I found to connect some plot points I sorry but bear with me I’ll explain it in the future promise

[lucius-the-sinful]

Tell me about... (Gale)

original post [ty for tagging me! @omgkalyppso ]

1- your oc's strongest platonic bond?

Gale's best friend, (and my best friend, Devi's oc!), Gavin. In our current D&D campaign, Gavin is a warlock to Gale's demon father. They really hated each other at first. Gavin thought Gale was a spoiled brat and overbearing, whereas Gale kinda feared Gavin? But they have gotten to know each other in recent sessions and are now best friends for life. (Devi and I also have this running roommates AU with Gale and Gavin where they moved in with each other and it has been a great source of joy for both of us, because Gale is a complete mess whereas Gavin is very neat and organized)

3- your oc's romantic interests?

There is Mitch, a tiefling himbo mechanic/racer:

And Sylvanna, vampire dark elf goth dancer:

(her father is the owner of a magical repository, and turned Galethor)

4- your oc's siblings/found family.

Gale has one younger half brother, an elf named Nenn. He is 10 (i think) and Gale very much teaches this child how to be very annoying. Nenn is also a wannabe detective, funny considering their father is in the illegal trade business. As far as found family, there is his drag mom, a dragonborn named Ophos (drag name, Ruth Lezz). He helped Gale realize his talent as a model and drag queen, and Gale always goes to Ophos for advice.

5- two different nightmares your oc's could have had or two different fears they could have fostered?

Gale's fears are a little specific to in-campaign events, but if I had to put broader ideas to them: he fears complete loss of the little autonomy he has, and dying. These two do kind of tie together, he fears dying because his father may force a contract for his soul, and if he loses his soul he feels he would have lost everything to that vile man.

6- two different dreams your oc's could have had or two different hopes they could have held?

Gale wants to be free, mainly in the sense to live his life as he chooses and not how his father has determined, and he wants a bit of power.

7- your oc's first pet?

Gale has never really had a pet in the traditional sense, but he managed to befriend a crow when he was 16. This one crow turned into a whole murder that would follow Gale around and swarm at his apartment complex, to the point where Gale decided to lead them to a druid's grove in the Undercity. This druid looked after and awakened them. Sometimes Gale will visit the grove just to hang out with his crow friends (where they give him "treasures" and sing him poorly composed songs). Not his pet, but Sylvanna has a familiar that is a wild cat named Sir Cheddar III, who ignores Gale until he gives it a treat. Then they are inseparable.

8- how your oc comes into possession of most of their clothing?

Theft. He is stealing the MCR shirts from Hot Topic. He is banned from half the department stores in the city.

9- how your oc comes into possession of most of their meals?

Before he was a vampire, Gale was pretty accommodated for. He'd have a pretty strict diet delivered to him everyday (the actual inside of his fridge is a different story entirely, like only way i can think of describing it is a boy fridge. there's something wicked in there). After becoming a vampire he almost forgets real food exists, and Sylvanna will provide him with blood bags.

10- how your oc learned to write or gets around writing?

Okay so this is where his intelligence score says he knows like five or six languages but he only has an eighth grade education and I think its hilarious. I like to think after learning the two he grew up around (common and abyssal), and was pulled out of school, he started just learning shit for the fun of it in his own time? Like he'd head down to the local library, check out a book on infernal, and learn it within weeks.

11- what physical affection means or looks like for your oc?

After all the physical and sexual trauma he has been through, he doesn't like to be touched almost at all. He does, however, love a good hug from the people he's close to. He is also the little spoon, even to Sylvanna who is 4'10" and he is 6'5". Gale loves physical affection from animals though, which is why he tried to make friends with Syl's familiar so fast.

12- your oc being responsible for a child / toddler / baby for 6 hours.

Disaster. Last time he took his little brother out for lunch, he decided it would be a good idea to have an open beer in the cupholder. Nenn is a bit of a narc so he called the cops on Gale, resulting in Gale receiving a DUI and DWI charge, plus he got fined for having expired registration on his truck. So no I don't think Gale should ever be responsible for anything. He'd kill a succulent.

13- your oc being asked by a stranger to watch their bag for 10 minutes.

That person is going to be bagless.

14- your oc being asked to try a new flavour of something they are fond of.

He's actually a pretty big fan of BBQ and likes different types of sauces. He likes to see how much spice he can handle, so I imagine he'd get into those hot wing contests at a bar not just for the potential prize but also because he just likes trying new sauces.

15- how your oc would handle tipping a waitress / waiter.

I don't think he would think too much about it. He'd likely do whatever is socially acceptable, but no more.

16- your oc. Anything you like or dislike about them and their journey.

I know I refrain from sharing his story too much, and that is because a lot of it is very dark and I'm not exactly comfortable sharing too much of that. I've spoke on his backstory containing a lot of child and sexual abuse, and I just want to put it out there that sometimes writing these very dark stories can come from a need to heal. He has been a very cathartic character to me, he is a representation of how messy and messed up people can be. Galethor is almost more than just a guy I made up, but maybe a larger part of me than I'd like to admit.

[satsuha]

Wild card for the salty asks, any 8 questions for a fandom of ur choice GO

i used a random number generator for this so i wouldnt be too biased LMAOO ill go with whatever fandom comes to mind ty jug my biggest hater enabler 🫶

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?

i think most popular ships i tend to like purely as platonic 💀 cr*menos h*incurr ph*nlumi are all pairs that i think have nice canon interactions but they're the kind of dynamic that always feels butchered as ship... judging from the ships i actually do like i think i prefer pairs who are more like "argumentative + just deals with it" rather than both of them bickering a lot...?? but i'm also definitely biased i Rarely if Ever like popular ships let alone the most popular

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

no 👍 jk ok wait let me think about this... yeah no i've never gone back after deciding i hate a ship, there are a few that i (kombucha girl)'d about after being neutral or never considering them but never ones i actively hated

8. Have you received anon hate? What about?

you know about this one already but genderbending a yaoi ship HAHAHAHFHHAH and i'd do it again!

15. Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

drgl didn't end prematurely o<-< in terms of the game yes but i think the story was pretty obviously reaching an end so that if they had to continue it they'd probably have to do some stupid bullshit to prolong it... not that i don't think some things could've been expanded on more but i kinda. prefer that it has an ending at all

17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen…

HOM act 3 should Not have had a ph*nlumi fight omg i'm still so bitter about this THEY WOULD NOT ACT LIKE THAT. i get that they had to have some stupid conflict so that damien gets the transcendent stone instead but it's not like the fight was playable anyway so why did it have to be an actual fight... i know that entire act is just fanservice with the modern clothing but holy shit

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom?

m*lsarisse... maybe.. i'm also thinking about hikari/ochette a little recently bc i have seen like one (1) artwork of them and i think they're kinda nice but i still way prefer them platonically

25. How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?

i wish,.. kazan got unique dialogue for hikari protagonist.... i don't like protag favouritism when it comes to 8path either but in that situation it felt so awkward to not have him say anything different snzz

27. Least shippable character?

ironically i think euden bc even though the early stories pushed him as a harem protag so hard i think they realized this shit. isn't working abjkdhjgka there's a few ships i've considered with him but i think they all fall apart if i think too hard

salty ask list

[canary0]

So, I’m Trans

I’ve kinda known since High School, when I started experimenting with binding and preferred shopping in the men’s section until I was basically told to get “more colorful” clothes and it was obvious the person in question meant more feminine. Basically implicitly being told to accept being female. That was the day I gave up on it for years, and started watching women to see how they behaved to imitate it. I genuinely thought it was normal to view my period and having breasts as just something I had to deal with. I thought everyone felt that way about their body.

I have literally been masking as a woman as an ingrained habit for 20 years.

I realized something was really up later when I was ranting about having issues dealing with women socially, and my roommate commented that I sounded like a gay man. And I was like... “... Yeah, that actually feels right.” It’s been in the back of my head since then.

There was some stuff that made me backslide and give up again for a few years that I don’t want to go into because of stuff.

It’s come to a head recently when I was ready the synopsis of “Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret,” and I was talking to my mom about it and was like, “Do girls really look forward to their period?” And she was like, “I did. It was sort of a ‘becoming a woman’ thing.” And I realized part of why I hated my period so much, aside from having a particularly heavy, unpleasant one:

I didn’t want to become a woman back then. I was in 4th grade when I got my first period, and I honestly just thought I didn’t want it because I had a precocious puberty and never had the chance to get to that point of wanting it.

But I think I just didn’t want it ever.

And looking back, whenever someone would compliment me when I wore men’s clothing, it made me really happy. My mom thinking about my personality and telling me she could see me as male made me really happy.

So I’m finally going for it. I’m going to transition. Eventually I’m going to change my name to Isaac. I’ve always liked the name ever since I first heard it, and I also like the indie horror roguelike.

I’m never going to be the most hyper-masculine dude ever. My personality is already masculine, and I’ve had enough of changing myself or giving up because of other peoples’ opinions of what a man or a trans man should be. I’m still going to have all the interests people think are “girly”, because they’re not. There’s nothing inherently gendered about liking sewing and cooking and scented candles (I appreciate the nice smell and being able to light stuff on fire without people getting mad at me) and stuff like that. And I’m totally comfortable with that.

So yeah. I’m a man. My name is Isaac. Nice to meet you.

[chancellorxofxtrash]

2, 7, 8, 12, 16, 20, 23, 25, 27, and 29 Michinaga and Neon

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you’ve sent me a character I don’t like)

Neon: she was always near and dear to me but when I realized she was kinda a dumdum. I love a girl with no braincells. I love her so much.

Michinaga: I recently reread my initial liveblogs when I called him "freckleface bitchboy" before I learnt his name, and I always meant it affectionately, so yeah. Always. But probably during the Concentration Game especially, when we found out more about his past

7. A quote of them that you remember

Neon: I can't recall it word by word, but I really love the scene when she grabs her mother's wrist as she tries to hit her again and asserts that she WILL escape

Michinaga: that simple. "And?" when Beroba points out he is just like those riders he hated. That made me feral and mental for many different reasons

8. Your favorite outfit of them

Neon: her outfits are always so cute, I really can't pick one

Michinaga: OBVIOUSLY HIS EDGY UPGRADE, ARE WE /JOKING/. THE HAIR. THE CLOTHES. ESPECIALLY WHEN HE HAS THE ONI BELLS ON. HOLY SHIT AM I GAY. AND I AM STEALING HIS GENDER

12. Sexuality hc!

Bisexuals, the both of them. Michinaga probably has a slight preference to men, but he is still Bi Bi Bi

16. A childhood headcanon

Neon: gosh this is difficult. But I imagine her to be the kind of child who wanted to be adventurous, but they didn't let her, for like. Obvious reasons. But also the kind where if you didn't look at her for two seconds, she was climbing on a cabinet

Michinaga: I do not think he has anyone. Like. Not at all. He had Tooru from childhood, and they basically grew up together, not having anyone else. I headcanon that they were foster kids who had trouble finding their footing anywhere else, until their boss found them, got them a job, and the rest is history.

20. A weird headcanon

Neon: can't cook. At all. You know that one discord video where the guy tries to make instant ramen and fucks up spectacularly and the entire chat loses their minds? That's Neon feat. her polycule

Michinaga: he definitely had more mutations from the Jyamato Buckle from what we had seen. Maybe there was a reason for that many layers. There is so much body horror that can be put into this bad boy

23. Future headcanon

It matches with what I want for the rest of their polycule. Happy. Alive. Together. Remembering. Healing.

25. When do you think they acted the most ooc

Neon: DEZASTAR ARC. No I do not mean her being the Dezastar, that's all well and good, but even BEFORE it, the way she acted like she didn't even notice Keiwa was there? Uhm what? Sis you just saved Ace alongside him a little while ago what the fuck was that? Keiwa is your friend? Huh?

Michinaga: uhhh Takahashi can I get some uhhhh fucking payoff to the hints that he cared for Keiwa and even the "make me believe in you" bullshit he said to Ace. Now that he obviously seemed angry that Neon and Keiwa remembered, and his displeasure at Neon being dragged through the mud by Beroba, I am HOPING we get something out of it but. Please.

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

Neon: Poppy, because I think about that Ex-Aid crossover a lot and I think they would be Delightful. They could play DoReMiFa Beat together. Also maybe Izu for Artificial Girls purposes.

Michinaga: LET HIM HUNT KUROTO FOR SPORT PLEASE TAKAHASHI I BEG YOU, ZOMBIE ON ZOMBIE VIOLENCE, I NEED TO SEE IT. Also Rudi Wenders from Vamp because that would feel like headbutting a mirror. Also Olteca because they look so fucking similar, and I want to see what would happen.

29. How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren’t?)

Again, I'm looking at this in an ot4 child context, but I think they'd both somewhat struggle. Neon because she doesn't want to suffocate them the same way her mom was overbearing, but she wants them to feel loved, unlike her... but she'd figure it out. Michinaga would be terrified of having a child, but like. He'd also figure it out. And hell hath no fury than Michinaga, if his child is hurt, he would be ready to go on a WARPATH, the others would have to hold him back. (Like they are all protective, but the rest are a bit more reasonable about it. Michinaga is ready to go scorched earth.)

[ariathelamia]

So... since the comic is still taking a bit i guess i can share some of my older art in the mean time ^^...

^ this right there was my first ever emote... i am currently still using a bunny girl avatar in my stream... and some of my friends use carnivore avatars... so they kept making the joke of seasoning me with BBQ sauce xD

This one was my second one, note that this one and the one before were made before i realized/came out i was trans^^... thats why their hair is still shorter and drawn with masculinity in mind...

This one was my first emote drawn AFTER i came out as trans, and is showing of way better on how i like to be portrayed as <3 no wonder this ended up to be my pfp :D though in the future i will probably drop the bunny ears and go more in the lamia direction with scale patches and pointy ears :3

This one i am super proud of! This little lesbian ball of general distrust is Sunako! She is one of my most fleshed out characters i use for text RP's. She does come of kinda harsh and distant at first, but if you show her that you mean no harm, she can be the sweetest thing... she only became a succubus recently and hates that she cant hide her enjoyment of certain things that well anymore... because of the tail wagging... She is still struggling coming to terms with her new nature as a succubus... not really wanting to feed on life energy and fearing the day she ends up eating a soul... Something her instincts will drive her towards though... And yes, very obviously, her outfit is inspired by Helltaker! Never played the games myself but i REALLY enjoy their clothing style <3

So yeah, really enjoy the time i have spent here on tumblr so far! Even though this account had been created quite some years ago... i never really thought about using it for anything... which is going to change! Since i really do enjoy drawing art.. but because of my fear of never being good... i usually end up frustrated quickly while drawing and just stop and mope about it... though i hope keeping this account alive and drawing my own Lamia HRT comic (which honestly super excites me and i have already so many things planned for it~)

will help me become a better artist and finally be able to draw all these cool ideas that keep popping in my head!! If any of you ever wanna chat, my DM's and asks are always open, and i will try to get back as fast as possible ^~^

[lifewithoutmeds]

March 4, 2024

Hm, it's been about a week since I last wrote. that's encouraging. this feels regular, somewhat consistent. it usually isn't a good sign when i either write too frequently or too infrequently.

Recap: Monday, February 26: Ended up going to Tam O'Shanter with Patti around 7pm. she kinda loved it. we had some drinks, prime ribs, and shared a sticky toffee cake thing a la mode. i drank a bit too much but it was okay having ubered. should note not to drink white wine though. low key kind of hate it, especially the nausea the next day.

Tuesday, February 27: In office day, and Joyce provided lunch. i think we had sandwiches. i bussed into work and back, and picked up my car. it ended up being a battery issue and he did not seem to acknowledge that i had a windshield wiper fluid issue but whatever.

Wednesday, February 28: can't think of anything. work.

Thursday, February 29: work, and walked over to the local library at lunch to print out my livescan application.

Friday, March 1: pretty busy. Got gas at Costco, had a 9am appointment in Burbank for my livescan for volunteering at the shelter, handwashed my car for about an hour at the coin op car wash in glendale, and then met up with Patti at 11a.m. at my favorite thai massage place, followed by lunch at Night Market Song, then a loop around the silver lake reservoir. it was a nice time, with good conversation, and i left around 3:30pm to avoid traffic.

Saturday, March 2: just slept. all day. watched youtube. didn't do anything. slept some 11-12 hours.

Sunday, March 3: too much. church in the morning, lunch with my mom, descanso gardens with grace y and caroline, then off to long beach for a dinner party at stephen's, including amir, and some others, for a total party of 9. it was pretty fun, and everyone was nice. i felt that amir might've been uncomfortable, but that's likely because he felt out of place being either the only or one of two straight people at the party.

today was a productive day. worked, washed dishes, checked on Thor three times, handwashed a couple items of clothing, took a morning walk and a nice long lunch walk. ate yogurt, granola, and fruit for breakfast, a giant pasta lunch, and then some salad for dinner. balance.

the week ahead: trader joe's for groceries, withdrawing some cash for next week's massages with lana and a haircut for myself sometime this month. a birthday dinner for lana on saturday with 4-5 of her friends, and hopefully church on sunday. i also need to file my taxes and some sort of IRS filing for my little defunct LLC.

i'm lately feeling the need to mature. to think before i speak. to not just be spastic and quirky and undisciplined. i remember when i was in 7-8th grade and i would see the senior girls and think wow, so poised, so elegant, it'll be so neat to be a senior and transform into that. and i didn't. i was still super scruffy, hair messy, clothes unkempt, runny nose, just kinda gross. and now....i'm afraid not much has changed. but it's really time that i grow up. that i stop having to apologize for offending people, that i stop throwing myself impulsively at people who will not have me, at drinking too much, then crying too much, then hiding in shame.

i'm also realizing that lately the thing that i'm most self-conscious about is my appearance, and more recently, my weight. i feel that in general, i would look better thinner/fitter, and that especially clothes would look better on me. even if i saw an item of clothing that i thought looked good on the hanger, or on a model, i know that that will not translate onto me, and it makes me want to avoid shopping, and just in general feeling left out of that whole equation.

in other respects though, things seem to be chugging along. more routines, more structure, more writing, more cleaning, chipping away at the physical messes in my life. i deep-cleaned my car over the weekend and wiped down as much i could of the interior, and it felt like a relief to have that thin layer of dirt cleaned off.

i also bought some aerosol spray so i could clean off my laptops, and just ordered some electronics screen spray so i could clean my monitors as well. i'm just feeling a need and desire to just get to the things that i've been putting off. to get into those corners. to address the seemingly sagging portions of my ceiling, to replace the piping under my kitchen sink, to get a window guy to fix up some of the malfunctioning windows.

in the meantime, i have work and chores during the week, and usually 1-2 social functions on the weekends, one coworking day with danielle a month, and just .... just chugging along i guess.

it still feels like remarkable process though from 6 months or a year ago. i even considered briefly restarting up the self-improvement youtube, but ... who knows. i'll need to take down the videos where i'm just sobbing inconsolably. but even just the whisper of a thought to restart that was interesting to me.

it feels like progress.

[stjernfaerie]

I be feelin it today ✨

[whythinktoomuch]

Andrea sighs. “I hate this part.”

“And what part would that be?” Kara spares a small glance for her, but continues to tug on her socks, her shoes, and anything else that she might need on her way out of Andrea’s apartment without a second thought. Again.

“The part where you make me sleep alone.”

Kara whips her head around. “… I’m sorry?”

“Nothing.”

Andrea regrets everything as she buries her head underneath her pillow. Maybe she can blame this sudden onset of weakness on her most recent trend of foregone sleep, or maybe even the very reason for said lack of sleep now standing at the foot of her soon-to-be half-emptied bed. But it certainly isn’t something that deserves any more elaboration, much less voiced.

Unfortunately though, Kara’s never been one to let something go. The rustle of clothing dies away, leading to a padding of steps which leads to the sagging of Andrea’s bed as Kara sits down beside her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

--

“Nothing,” Andrea repeats, her voice firm despite being muffled under her pillow. “Make sure to lock the door on your way out.”

“No, come on…” Kara’s tugging on Andrea’s arm, thumb rubbing gently into her skin. “Talk to me. Please? I’m right here.”

Groaning to herself, Andrea finally sits up, frown deeply set and disgruntled. “Where are you even going anyway?”

Kara takes a deep breath before answering, and Andrea hates how these are the kinds of things that refuse to escape her notice now. “I told you,” Kara says slowly. “I’m meeting a source downtown.”

“Right now? After midnight?” Andrea says with a scoff. “You don’t have a better, more business-friendly time—I don’t know—during the day to be meeting up with these people?”

“I have to go where the story takes me! And I also have to meet my sources on their own terms if I want to cultivate a lasting sense of trust and profess—”

“But for what article?” Andrea demands. “You’ve already met all your deadlines for this week. You wouldn’t be here”—she gestures aimlessly about her bed—“otherwise, so what else could you possibly be researching right now?”

“It’s…” Kara stumbles slightly, and Andrea wills her heart to harden into something that can never sink. “This is for a new story. One that I’m thinking about pitching. Soon.”

“Okay. What story?”

“I can’t tell you yet! It’s not ready,” Kara says, and Andrea just scoffs again. “Hey, seriously. What’s really bothering you? You never care about my work.”

“I’m your boss, Kara. It’s literally my job to care about your work.”

“Just tell me what’s actually bothering you, and I’ll fix it.”

Andrea rubs at her face. “I’d just… really like to know what it’s like to sleep next to my girlfriend for once…”

“Your girlfriend?” Kara echoes. “Who’s your girl—oh!” Her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her hairline. “Wait, oh…”

Groaning once more, now about ready to bury her entire body beneath her pillow if possible, Andrea just waves her hand. “Never mind, okay? Just go.”

“No, hey, hey, hey…” Kara tugs on Andrea’s wrist, refusing, per usual, to let an unwieldy moment die down on its own. “Girlfriend?”

“Forget I even said anything…” Andrea starts, but Kara seems quite unwilling to. In fact, she’s looking at Andrea in complete awe, and Andrea can’t help but straighten up at the attention. Maybe even pushing out her chest a bit just to make a point. “All right, fine, we can talk about this. But you should know right now, that I can’t date anyone who refuses to sleep with me.”

“Pfft, what do you mean? We literally sleep with each other all the time,” Kara protests, until Andrea shoots her a meaningful look—glare. “Oh… Right. You meant, just sleeping, sleeping. Um. Okay. Well, I guess that’s something we can try if you really want…”

Andrea rolls her eyes. “I don’t want you to try it just to appease me, Kara. I want you to want it too. For your own sake.”

“I do want it too! I just didn’t realize that it was something that you’d want. From me, especially.”

“Why the hell not?” Andrea says. “I’m sorry—was the past hour and a half not convincing enough for you?”

Kara flushes all over, sputtering, “No, what I meant was… I didn’t realize that you actually liked me like that?”

“Again. Was the past hour and—”

“I get your point,” Kara says, flapping her hands. “And okay. I, you know… like you too.”

“Oh, how promising,” Andrea mutters, but her nerves were undeniably starting to settle. The flow of conversation now comfortably in her favor.

“And I do want that too,” Kara continues, cracking a smile. “So… let’s do it. Let’s be girlfriends who, you know, sleep together.”

“Deal.” Andrea clears her throat, fidgeting with her sheets. “I imagine that it’ll have to start another night though, no?”

Kara rubs at the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I just really have to meet this source tonight. It’s really important, I swear.”

“Fine,” Andrea says in a sigh. “It’s not like I don’t understand the need to put one’s career first.”

Kara pouts. She reaches out to cradle Andrea’s face, thumb tracing down her cheek, and Andrea’s not melting, she’s not melting, she’s not.

“I’ll come back,” Kara says at last. “No matter how long this meeting goes for, I promise to come straight back here and sleep with you.”

“Oh, you promise?” Andrea laughs, but there’s a serious glint to Kara’s eyes, twinkling in the way that they do in the strangest moments sometimes.

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back. And I’ll be right here for you, okay?”

Andrea lets out another laugh, ducking her head slightly. “Okay. I guess we’ll see how you do then.”

“Thank you,” Kara says, beaming. “But for now, I really do have to go. I’m actually kinda late now.”

“Then go. I ain’t keeping ya.”

Kara leans in, clearly in askance of a goodbye kiss, but when Andrea goes to cup her face, Kara resists just a tad. “Trust me,” she says. “You kiss me like that, and I’ll never make it out of here.��

“Want to test that little theory?” Andrea asks, her voice dropped into huskier territory, and Kara accordingly flushes pink cheek to cheek.

“Oh… boy…” Kara says in a hushed whisper. “I… er, I gotta go though, so…” She quickly shakes her head. “Yup, gotta go, gotta go. So sorry, but bye!” Pecking at Andrea’s cheek, Kara all but bolts out the door.

With a tiny unseen pout, Andrea sinks back into her bed, her moment of vulnerability already regretted with that aching part of her chest. But Kara promised to come back, and she seems the type to keep promises like that—the girlfriend type, that is.

Andrea’s final thought as she’s drifting off is a fleeting hope that wherever Kara’s rushing off to meet her source wouldn’t be anywhere near the sirens that have been going off. The last thing this would-be relationship needs is for Andrea’s would-be girlfriend to get stuck in traffic this late at night because of fire trucks or something.

//

Andrea wakes up to a sudden dip in her bed, coherent thoughts still slow to return as a column of warmth wraps around her middle from behind. She blinks blearily into the darkness. The sharp bite of smoke lingering in the air somehow only seems to get stronger the clearer her vision gets.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” comes a sleepy mumble close to her ear, and Andrea starts to chuckle, her surprise melting into blessed relief.

There’s a wry comment sitting on Andrea’s tongue as she glances over her shoulder, but the specifics of it all gets lost when she sees Supergirl curled up against her. “Whoa. W-wait…”

“Oh, m’s’rry…” Supergirl says softly, eyes still squeezed shut. “Forgot to ask… Can I call you ‘baby’ now, since we’re girlfriends who sleep together and stuff…?”

Andrea is reeling, as she takes in the sight. That is to say, the sight of National City’s darling and daring hero rapidly passing out in her bed, blonde hair strewn across Kara’s go-to pillow like a golden halo, her bulk scrunched up into a tiny ball of warmth pressed into Andrea’s side, cape splayed out without a care.

“You’re…” Andrea clears her throat, hopefully ridding herself of the dry stutter caught within. “Excuse me, you’re wearing boots in my bed.”

Supergirl lets out a small whine—there’s a literal, bona fide superhero whining all disgruntled in Andrea’s bed right now—and kicks out her feet. “But I’m so tired, maybe-baby.”

“Maybe-baby,” Andrea echoes, rolling her eyes, because okay, this is definitely Kara all right.

She manages to extricate herself from Kara’s embrace with surprising ease, considering, then manages to tug Supergirl’s boots off one by one with far less ease. But the sight that Andrea’s greeted with startles her into soft laughter.

“Hey. What’s so funny…”

“I like your socks,” Andrea says, slipping back under the sheets, eyes fluttering shut when Kara sidles right up against her once more. “You know, you weren’t wearing those when you left me.”

“Is it really leaving when I come right back?”

“Yes.”

Kara snorts, burying herself into Andrea’s hair with a sigh. “Mm, I like my socks too. Was a gift from Santa,” she says, and Andrea can almost feel Kara wiggling her toes. “I like the smilin’ fruits…”

“Yes, I figured you would.”

Kara lets out a mock scandalized gasp, “It’s s’pposed to be secret Santa, you know…”

“You know what else is supposed be a secret?” Andrea shoots back, arching an eyebrow that is of course lost on her half-asleep almost-girlfriend. But Kara seems to know, because she grins.

“Hm. We can talk about it in the morning, mm’kay?”

“Oh, we most certainly will,” Andrea says, turning on her side, allowing herself to be happily spooned. “Good night, Supergirl.”

“Yeah, yeah, good night, maybe-baby.”