#i just really befuckened my back ��

[izzy-b-hands]

I may be on day two of being stuck in bed thanks to some of the ✨worst back pain I've ever had in my life✨, but the neighbours are outside grilling, the window is open a bit, and it smells so fucking good. I'm not even hungry rn, but I am v much enjoying the second hand good food smells.

[master-sass-blast]

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

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

Uh... hi.

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

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

Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

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

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

Pairing(s): Sevika/Reader.

Rating: M for some sensual themes and making out.

Word Count: 10.1k. Whoops.

You drive her to drink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then…

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

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

Sevika scowls down into her whiskey. Fucking psycho kid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anyone else want to have a go?”

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

The whiskey burns her throat –expected and grounding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut. Up.”

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

“...Duh.”

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

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

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

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

“Then what is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I–”

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

“That’s–”

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

“I’m–”

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

“If you interrupt me again–”

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

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

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

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

Sevika glares harshly at them–

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you having another?”

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

“Since when?” Ran mutters under their breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silver perks up. “What about arm wrestling?”

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

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

Arik pouts, but says nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take her fucking hand,” Theo growls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think you could beat Sev?”

Traitor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Three, two, one–”

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

“Shit.” Sevika strains against your arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crowd clustered around the table breaks into cheers.

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

“What about the other one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The table quakes beneath the weight of her arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then her hand lowers an inch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s hot.

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

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

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

It’s over.

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

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

You’re still holding her hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sev.”

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

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

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

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

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

Silco’s office is mercifully dark. Quiet.

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

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

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

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

Too silent.

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

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

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

The bar is empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Did she do something to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Smart,” Sevika purrs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bite me.”

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

“You implying something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, and the tattoo.

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

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

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

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

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

“This okay?” Sevika murmurs.

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“Ask her out, or get over it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her gut drops. “Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You moan and grind your hips against hers–

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

You both freeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide. “Uh–”

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

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

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

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

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

[gallusrostromegalus]

I'm glad to hear that Kaname protected Momo from the worst of Aizen's manipulations. Does she ever find out about his efforts, or does that stay a secret?

Post-Aizen-Fight, Kaname is in the hospital recovering from General Befuckening, and needs Reiatsu transfers to finish purging The Curse from his system and it's Hitsugaya's turn.

*****

The boy doesn't actually say anything for a long time after Unohana finishes connecting the IVs. It's alright. He's still exhausted, and there really isn't that much to say about what happened that hasn't been gone over and over and over, in debriefings and staff meetings and the distant sound of tears Tousen can hear coming from Lieutenant Hinamori's room. Gradually though, Lieutenant Hitsugaya's silence grows cold and sharp and restless, a winter gale banging against a window that won't quite latch right.

"-Out with it." Kaname sighs, opening his eyes and not frowning at the ceiling. "If you keep sulking like this I'm going to get frostbite and Unohana-sama will have both our hides for it."

Toshiro startles, coughs a bit like he's about to deny it, but collects himself and states his problem with magnificent succinctness.

"Momo." he says, voice almost violent in it's neutrality.

"Ah." Kaname nods. "I did what I could, but I know that was far from enough. I am sorry."

Hitsugaya is quiet, considering his words. "...What did you DO, actually?" he eventually asks.

Kaname blinks in surprise. "Huh. I thought Hisagi-san would have noticed when he did the audit of all my paperwork. I was genuinely hopeful you were going to spot it before Aizen could make his move with how much Momo complained..." he muttered, slightly puzzled.

"Spotted what?" Toshiro grumbled.

"You have undoubtedly been subject to the ongoing saga of the Rice-Farm-Subsidy Fraud case that Lieutenant Hinamori has been investigating since her promotion to lieutenancy?" Kaname prompted.

"Yeah, yeah, the one that's got her haring off to some backwater district or getting lost in the stacks at the archives for days on end or-" Hitsugaya graoned, then stopped. "...the one that had her constantly traveling away from the division, or doing extended research without Aizen's help."

"He used to get terrible motion sickness from trains or portals, you know." Kaname smiled, sitting up a bit. "-and a wretched allergy to paper-dust. Part of the reason he made me do all his fucking lab work, I imagine. but it seemed a good way to keep Miss Hinamori outside his sphere of influence at least for a few weeks at a time. Do I still have water in my glass?"

"...you MADE IT UP?" Hitsugaya yelped.

"I did no such thing. There is an extensive conspiracy between the various provincial leaders and mid-district governors to defraud the Central Government of subsidies for rice farms that frankly, do not exist, while also hiding the existence of taxable villages, resulting in invisible granaries used to fund private armies and other villiany-" he explained, sitting up properly and groping for the end-table where his water theoretically was. "-I just made sure Miss Hinamori had enough information to know where to look for the evidence of said conspiracy, and occasionally... lightly interfered with granaries in the middle districts to make sure more visible evidence came to light for her to keep the investigation open and moving in a timely manner. Lieutenant, if I may ask for your help-"

There was a rustle of cloth as Hitsugaya shook himself, grabbing the pitcher and refilling Kaname's glass, handing it to the frail man.

"Thank you." Kaname took a drink, handing the glass back to Toshiro to set down. "-I imagine the investigation will go much faster and with fewer extended trips to the rukongai now that I'm not cursed and can freely discuss the taxation and census records Aizen had covered in his illusion to hide his experiments." he explained. "...But doing it the long way has allowed Miss Hinamori to build a very complete and entirely legitimate case. She's an exceptional forensic investigator."

"...HOW?" Hitsugaya gaped. "The curse- it's not like you could talk to her, or send her messages- and if you could, it'd mess with the legitimacy of the case to have an anonymous tipster?"

"I had to...sort of gently suggest the names and locations to her in such fashion that her subconscious would make the connection between those terms and the case. Fortunately, in addition to being a certifiable genius, Miss Hinamori is also a master of the Lingual Arts."

"...Sir, I don't think Hinamori is that kind of girl." Toshiro mumbled, and Kaname could almost hear his full-face blush.

"You're thinking of Zaraki-Taicho, who is an entirely different kind of cunning linguist." Momo announced from the door. "-but you don't know everything about me Toshiro." She teased, coming in the room and climbing onto the bed beside Kaname, unfolding and re-folding that week's newspaper. "Lieutenant Sasakibe took over the crossword in your absence, and I think he may still be a bit upset with you."

"Ah." Kaname winced.

"What?" Repeated Toshiro, thoroughly lost.

"You remember that Tousen-taicho is the Editor-In-Chief of the Seireitei Newsletter, right?" She asked Hitsugaya, who failed to respond in a fashion that suggested that he did not, in fact, know that. "-Anyway, sometimes he writes more or less for the paper depending on that week's news, but without fail, he also designs the crossword- the most fiendishly difficult one in any of the newspapers, Sir." She explained, taking out a pen and tapping the partially-finished lexical puzzle she'd been working on.

"I try." Kaname smiled, looking just a bit genuinely smug.

"You largely succeed. I didn't actually make the connection between your five downs and the rice subsidy investigation until i tried doing Sasakibe's substitute puzzle this morning. I think he may have made the same connection, because 5 down today is 11 letters, starts with "P" and the clue is 'Degenerate Justice'."

"...Prevaricate." Kaname hissed with imagined pain at the likely wrath of the Chief Lieutenant. "Oh dear. Do you think a written apology is in order?"

"It's Sasakibe-san, it's just as likely to be his idea of an apology." Momo shrugged, filling in the word.

"...for those of us that are better at Sudoku?" Hitsugaya glared.

"Tousen-Taicho was putting clues about where the next bit of evidence I needed for the Rice Subsidies case in the Crossword because he knew I did it every week." Momo explained. "The clue was always in the fifth column down, which is a structurally important one in crosswords- you little shit, I even got on your case last year about how you always used locations for your 5 Downs and I STILL didn't make the connection!" She realized, rolling up the paper and affectionately swatting him over the head.

"Entirely deserved, but you have my word that was as much as I could do to help you, and that you have my full resources available to you now." Kaname smiled.

"I have entirely too many words from you-" Momo sighed with exasperation before putting the paper down and laying down beside him, hugging his chest. "-But I believe you. There's- I've been finding all sorts of things- people I forgot, places I'd been before and couldn't remember- huge sections of my LIFE! that his Illusion just... vanished."

She hugged Kaname's chest. "-I can't imagine what you went through."

"I hope you never will." he sighed, returning her embrace and for a moment, Hitsugaya felt even more outside the conversation- this was a secret grief, but the burden lightened by finally being able to share it. "...Did Sasakibe Key any clues to 5 Down? He might have more to say." Kaname asked, letting go and Momo sat up, frowning at the paper.

"Key?" Asked Toshiro, pleased to be talking about anything else.

"Sometimes one word is a hint to some of the next words, usually the ones that originate from it, um- Yeah, three words. Four letters, second letter 'i', clue is "Astronomical Favor"; Three letters, middle letter 'a', clue is "German Opera, 1874" ; and the last one is four letters, Second letter 'e', clue is "Truth's Abode". Momo read off.

All three of them stared (or pointed their faces) blankly at each other for a moment.

"...Yeah I'm gonna stick to the Sudoku." Nodded Hitsugaya.

[bumblebeerror]

My back nerves have been befuckened. About 12 hours ago now. I got home, had something to eat, and then conked out.

Notes on this experience:

During -

The saline they flushed my IV with tasted weird and metallic. Sort of like if ozone was stale. It was weird being able to taste things in my veins. I could also hear/feel each thing get injected.

Funky bendy needle. Mom explained it was actually a cath needle because they’re easier to work with. The nurse’s placement was awesome, I didn’t even feel it go in.

It’s hard to find a comfortable laying position on your back on a hospital bed. I ended up sitting with my knees up.

Several of the staff glanced at my tiny elephant stuffie with some form of bemusement. I stuck its feet between my fingers so that it wouldn’t fall out of my hand. No idea if this worked but I did still have it when I woke up. This could have just been one of the nurses putting it back in my hand at some stage.

Nasal cannula made it hard to breathe out. 0/10 did not like. Also made my nose itchy.

I was asked who I was and what I was there for a total of 5 times. It felt like a weird pop quiz. I remembered “bilateral ablation” and was proud of myself.

I somehow managed to only have a BP of 130/80 despite being more anxious than I’ve been in a while. I do not like not knowing what’s happening to my body, and I was largely nonverbal.

Doc said he wished he didn’t have to stab me when I told him I was ready to be stabbed. Mom called bullshit because she’s a nurse and she knows it’s fun. He found this hilarious

After -

The anesthesiologist was a really sweet dude. I woke up to him saying “it’s time to wake up, you did a great job!” I apparently got a good grade in being anesthsetized, normal to want and possible to achieve

I had a dream, but immediately upon waking up I forgot everything about the dream. It was replaced instantly with the entire time I was out feeling like a blink.

I lost short term memory in 5-10 second chunks after waking up for a little while. I remember waking up to the anesthesiologist, then forgot transferring to the rolling bed and being returned to the curtained bay I started out at. I remember choosing juice and peanut butter crackers, forgot the person who brought them walking over and back to get them and me opening both, had to double check id said things out loud to my mom. This is when I remember finding my stuffie still in my hand.

The aftermath felt like being high on weed without the munchies or the body high feeling. Everything was slowed down and it took me a while to process questions, my eyes were itchy, and I was kind of sleepy.

At this point I was expecting pain but didn’t have any, and asked if my back had been numbed. It had not. On account of me being sedated and all

I was allowed to walk out under my own power. The floor felt kind of uneven and I held my mom’s hand so that I wouldn’t float off. I was constructing sentences by then but mostly out of necessity than out of actually wanting to talk.

We ran errands on the way home, got coffee and donuts, picked up prescriptions. I was awake and aware, but struggled with speaking and mostly listened to mom talk.

Ate, played a little with Duck, finished my matcha, and conked the fuck out. Slept from like 2pm to 6pm. Laying down was mostly comfortable? My back felt slightly strained in a lot of positions until I found one where it didn’t.

Back now aches along a tendon that connects near my hip and I can feel it when I move, and otherwise just. Feels vaguely like I’ve had a needle in my back a couple times for obvious reasons. Sort of sore, maybe like a really deep bruise, a bit irritated, but otherwise fine. Less pain than I woke up with this morning. I fully expected it to be a gets worse before it gets better kinda deal.

Conclusion: 9/10 I could stand to have fewer memory blanks but the surprise almost no pain is nice. We shall see if it starts burning at some point

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Okay, next part:

I befuckened my entire Pokémon universe when I made Scarlett be Zoe’s daughter because it was funny but many people on this website say that cringe culture is dead and I think I need to simply accept that no Pokémon game will ever imprint itself on my psyche the way that Black/White did, and if I want to keep tying Zoe into my canon with the new games going forward, that is my right.

The entire thought that caused this was “hey, could Zoe have met Sada way before the events of Scarlet? Like, during Sada's initial Area Zero exploration?”

The answer is yes. If I go with “20 years before Scarlet” as the Area Zero exploration, then that puts me two years after Black 2, one year before Sun. Zoe is nineteen and has been neck-deep in studying history and legends since That Shit with Team Plasma happened. She spends a year or two in Kalos, helping Professor Sycamore; both Professors Juniper know her; whenever word gets out through the Regional Professors Group Chat about a new team heading into Area Zero to do research, they recommend Zoe as a team member - really just in a guard role, since Area Zero's wild Pokemon (even before Sada starts bringing in the Paradoxes) are worrying.

Anyway Zoe spends a couple months with the team, does not get attacked by anything interesting, and then moves on when it's determined that Area Zero is ""safe enough"" for Sada to do some more long-term research. Zoe probably does not get to know either Sada or Clavell very well, but she does know them; twenty years later, she and Clavell recognize each other when he brings over a starter Pokemon for Scarlett.

The entire reason why I want Zoe to have met Sada at any point is because sometime last week I was being So Normal with the amount of thoughts I have about Zoe, tying to Scarlett and Arven and Sada’s obsession with the past. Sada’s interest is prehistory, ancient Pokémon from millions of years ago; Zoe’s interest is the age of legends and the legendary Pokémon from a few thousand years ago. But Zoe is permanently anchored to the past by her bond with Reshiram and its significance to Unova’s history. Zoe’s own interest in the past and in ancient things is because she’s trying to use that knowledge of the past to help herself figure out her place in the present; Sada’s obsession with the past ends up with her trying to create a sanctuary in it. Sada's fixation on the past becomes a detriment to her living in the present; Zoe eventually figures out how to carry the past with her here in the present.

And they don't need to meet, because the parallel is more about their kids, Arven and Scarlett, but I just want them to meet. It's fun. And also, Zoe having spent some time in Paldea at some point gives another reason for her to eventually move back there, besides Scarlett wanting to attend Naranja Academy.

The only problem with this timeline of things is that Zoe and Sada meet before Arven is ever born, and early on when I was thinking through this I pictured, when asked by her friends about the people she's working with, Zoe describing Sada as "idk kind of a milf", but that joke is the least important part of any of this, so I can live with losing it.

Trying to determine some stuff for my Pokemon universe timeline, in order to draft some character thoughts. Scarlet/Violet game spoilers here.

First: Scarlet timeline stuff from the game. The Tera Orbs are said to have come into use in the Paldean League a decade before the game, as far as I remember. The implied timeline in Sada's Area Zero journals would suggest she's been working on it for much longer than that.

She secures corporate funding with her prototype of the Tera Orb, builds her lighthouse laboratory, and spends some amount of time away from her Area Zero lab. Eventually, she returns with a small team and they manage to create the time machine: Koraidon is implied to have arrived around the time that Arven was born. Arven, I figure, is probably about seventeen or eighteen.

So then the Tera Orb is probably in progress as a prototype for a decade before it sees wide release? That seems fair, especially since Sada's real passion is her research in Area Zero. The Tera Orb got her funding, but if she's dicking around with the time machine every chance she gets and is just working on the Tera Orb to appease the corporate sponsors, then that would slow the process. (The woman built an AI clone of herself, I think she could've figured out the Tera Orb in less than a decade if she wanted to. I'm giving her that.)

I believe Clavell was part of the initial Area Zero exploratory team with Sada, so he's probably known her for at least twenty years - it was probably very, very hard for him to watch as she spiraled deeper into obsession and isolation! Isn't that fun!

Actually I'll append my OC stuff later and dump this post here as it is for our reference.

[maryellencarter]

So for about ten days now I've been playing around with the budgeting app Mint (along with a Google Sheets yearly budget template and a lot of manual work with a calculator, a calendar, and a succession of blank Google Docs because that's just the kind of person I am), and so obviously I have some Thoughts.

* I picked Mint because it's the budgeting app all the financial reviewers talk about, because it's run by Intuit who also own TurboTax so I knew their security and interface would be good, and because it does not come with built-in shaming over any of your ~unnecessary~ purchases.

* Mint is a free app which makes its money by offering you sponsored ads for financial products it thinks you might like, and getting paid by the advertisers when you accept one of the ads. The most intrusive location for these ads is on your dashboard, feed, whatever you want to call it, where the ad tile is required to be the third tile down and cannot be shuffled to the bottom or turned off.

* (There is also a desktop browser version, Mint.com. I have poked it very slightly but couldn't get it to do anything useful. More on that later. I don't remember noticing how the ads are arranged there.)

* The app's general design is very sleek and intuitive, what I'd expect from the parent company of QuickBooks and TurboTax. Other than the intrusive ad tile, it lets you rearrange everything however you want.

* Mint is designed around importing transactions from your bank account for you to do budgetary stuff at, so obviously security is really important, which gives Intuit an edge up on the competition because I'm already used to trusting them with my tax returns. It only seems to sync new transactions during banking hours, which for someone like me who does most of their shopping on Sunday is kind of frustrating. It also won't let you edit or recategorize a transaction till it's finished "processing" a day or two down the line. I don't know if these pitfalls are common to all budget apps but it would probably make sense if they are.

* One thing Mint does that's incredibly handy for me is it lets you put all your recurring bills in one place and even sync them with your phone calendar. I actually had to turn off the phone calendar sync because it was alerting me constantly on the day before payday when I couldn't do anything about the bill that was due on payday, but if you can find the setting to change the alert frequency it might be useful. And having a nice chronological list of what the fuck is due when, is extremely helpful to my brain, because previously I was trying to remember everything in my head and I kept losing bills.

* Going down my tiles as I have them sorted in the app, I don't have much to say about that list of transactions itself, except that you can recategorize them and split them into different categories -- which is handy if the rent included $105 late fees which you don't want befuckening your future averages, or if you bought groceries and also a barbecue lighter at Walmart, to take two recent examples.

* You cannot, unfortunately, rename or edit categories. On desktop only, you can supposedly add categories, but you cannot then use those categories in any of Mint's other functions, which really defeats the purpose. And their ideas of what categories you might need are pretty... idiosyncratic, not to say WASPy, so e.g. I'm currently categorizing Patreon income under "Reimbursement" because the other options were things like "Investment Income" and "Returned Purchase". And transfers to my savings account can either be "Credit Card Payment" or "Transfer for Cash Spending".

* (I suppose I could put my savings under "Investment: Deposit" or something similarly grandiose, but that seems like... a lot for the 31 cents rounded up from getting a pizza at Little Caesars.)

* Anyways. So then, after the obligatory ad tile, comes a nice colorful pie chart of my spending for the month, which I can open up and tab through to look at all the categories. I saw one finance blogger saying you should use the Miscellaneous category for some things rather than getting too granular, but I like seeing the little individual entries for my haircut and my cloth mask and my pharmacy copay. (That last one's going to be a more substantial pie slice now that I can actually afford to start taking most of my meds again. Turns out my prescription for diabetic test strips expired, though, so I have to get ahold of my doctor and get a new one sent over, and I'm looking skeptically at the copays. :P I've been ignoring my diabetes since January, it can wait a little longer till I'm financially caught up from COVID.)

* I can see list-style breakdowns by category and merchant, too. This is one of the few places in the mobile app that my income shows up, other than the actual paycheck transactions. The desktop version has some more places to budget projected income, but the handling is clunky as hell.

* Next up is the tile where I've been spending a lot of my time, Budgets. This is your basic "envelope method" where you create, say, a budget for haircuts and another one for groceries. Each budget has to be for one of Mint's pre-created categories, and when you have a spending transaction in that category, it puts the expense against that Budget. The desktop version has you also creating a line item for expected income in Budgets, and then becoming stroppy when you attempt to adjust parts in the wrong order, so I prefer the app which simply tells you e.g. that you have spent $900 of an allocated $1000 with an airy unconcern for whether the $1000 has arrived in your bank account yet.

* My single biggest frustration with Mint is that you cannot create Budgets based on user-created categories, nor can you delete, rename, or even collapse categories in the list. So if I go to create a new Budget for, say, "Housewares" to account for the $1 barbecue lighter I finally bought (I have large hands and a tall jar candle that has burned down farther than I can reach, okay, it was a necessity), then I'm stuck scrolling all the way up and down past "Investment: Capital Gains" and "Kids: Child Support" before finally settling on "Home Supplies" because it doesn't really seem like a "Home Furnishings".

* After Budgets comes Accounts, which just shows me my current net worth across all my accounts. I actually unlinked my savings account because it was confusing the hell out of me to see a 31-cent transfer out of checking paired with the same 31-cent transfer into savings, so this doesn't show me anything I can't get through my bank app, but if I had current credit card debt or non-retirement investment accounts it might be more useful.

* (I have not linked my 401(k) to Mint. I haven't even figured out how to get into my 401(k), either before or after it transferred to a different handler a couple months back. I feel like those are problems for a later time than "okay how much groceries can I buy and still pay the rent".)

* On the desktop version of Mint, you can also put things like your car in under your net worth as Property. I tried that, found that I both did not believe their Kelly Blue Book valuation at all (it didn't have any option to take into account "was totaled two years ago and looks it but still mostly runs") and that I find it extremely stressful to have non-liquid property listed as part of my net worth. Interesting to know. You learn all sorts of shit about yourself when you try to manage money.

* Next there's a tile that attempts to break down my "cash flow" by month. It doesn't seem to have noticed the Paypal transfers on which I was largely subsisting for the three months it was able to pull from my bank account, even though they show up fine in Transactions, so it's deeply confused about whether my cash flow is Healthy or Unhealthy. For now, with my acquisition of a second paycheck for August, it seems to have settled on Healthy. I might turn that tile off though. It doesn't really... offer much, I guess?

* I have turned off the tile that shows me my free credit score. That's a problem for a much later me. Right now I have more urgent problems, like catching up on my deferred car insurance and my deferred cell phone bill and my deferred healthcare deductions.

* You also can't turn off the tile for the Mint "Life Blog" or the one asking you to rate the app, but at least they sit at the bottom of the app as you scroll down.

* The desktop version also has an entire segment not found in the app, for "Goals", where you can supposedly put in your outstanding debts and figure out payment schedules for them. It sounds really good in principle, but I found that section of the site unworkably glitchy, on both laptop and iPad; I couldn't even get past the screen where you try to first enter one of your debts, as it required me to choose answers from two dropdowns neither of which would actually do anything. I was able to get an estimate from the "saving for a rainy day" goal, anyway, by putting in the amount of a debt and telling it I'd like to save up that much money in a year, but that's nothing I couldn't have done with a calculator and a bit of mental effort.

* Jumping back up to the top of the app, one other thing that does intermittently drive me bananas about the app is, when you put in a bill you get a dropdown where you select how often it should recur, but then it... doesn't recur. You have to manually put in the next occurrence. It's still a handy list of upcoming bills, but I actually had to resort to my phone calendar (which properly handles recurring events) to get a good visual on future months' bills.

* And because there is nowhere to put in your projected income and get a nice projection of "On X date you will have $XX in your bank account", or even better a daily graph of your expected cash flow so that you can see "yeah don't put that $300 in savings you'll need it for rent in two weeks", I've been reduced to, as mentioned above, manual daily projections through the end of the year using my phone calculator, phone calendar, Google Docs, and eventually my damn iPad drawing app (came with a Bluetooth stylus I never got working) because I couldn't find any physical graph paper.

* So. Um. Summary. I guess it's a good app? It's very sleek, it has nice charts and graphs and a good interface. But it thinks you can do a lot more with it than you can actually do. Its main uses for me are probably going to boil down to "stop forgetting bills" (the rolling list format works a lot better for my brain than the phone calendar format, even if I do have to re-enter data every time I mark a bill paid) and "finally figure out how much I spend on food really".

[theradioghost]

could you elaborate on the long term plot of greater boston? i don't mind spoilers! i tried it but couldn't get past the first episode :( but i trust your taste and i've liked every other show you've rec'd so i wanna keep listening

EDIT: okay for some reason the formatting of this post is EXTREMELY befuckened and I can’t get it to behave, so it’s possible that this isn’t going to display with a spoiler cut and if so I am VERY sorry. the “keep reading” break is in the ask instead of the body of the post I have no idea what’s happening right now but if you don’t want spoilers please be aware this post spoils like everything about the show

Sure thing! I will .... do my best, but because of the nature of GB’s plot it’s a bit difficult to describe it without ending up either way too detailed or way too vague. But I will absolutely do my best because if there is any show out there that deserves it, this is that show. Cut for Obvious Spoiler Reasons!

So, there’s a LOT of plot that goes on, but what a plot summary could never convey is that the real heart and soul of this show is the characters. There are a metric fuckton of them, and every one of them is multidimensional and dynamic and wonderful, even if it’s not always obvious at first.

Leon Stamatis of course starts the show by abruptly dying of Existential Crisis/Panic Attack on a roller coaster, which sets everything else in motion. Of that big ensemble cast, at first the most important players are

Nica, Leon’s little sister who wants to be famous but doesn’t really have any concrete plans as to how

Dimitri, Leon’s little brother who is currently traveling in a submarine attempting to find Atlantis and keeps sending Leon letters, unaware that he’s dead

Louisa, Leon’s recent ex, a wedding photographer who later quits and becomes a crime scene photographer slash detective

Leon’s best friend/roommate Michael, who is unemployed and has just had a relapse after being sober for 12 years because he has no idea what to do without Leon

Gemma, a lesbian who absolutely hates her job as an editor at Third Sight, a company which publishes magazines relating to astrology/psychic stuff/divination/etc

Charlotte, Gemma’s pregnant wife, who has recently lost her job as an animation background artist and is feeling directionless

Professor Paul Montgomery Chelmsworth, aka the Mayor of the Red Line, a slightly eccentric college professor and casual friend of Leon’s who is inspired by his death to call for a referendum declaring that the Red Line of the Boston subway system will become an independent city.

It’s that last one that is the real ~main plot~ of the show: at first, more and more of the characters getting caught up in the campaign to create the city of Red Line, and then the chaos that results when they succeed and actually have to run it. But you also have characters like Louisa and Nica and Michael, dealing with a whole rainbow of grief and distress as they cope with Leon’s death. His eccentric personality is the other driving force of the show’s events -- Leon was caring and compassionate, but also obsessed with timetables, organization, and scheduling every action in his life down to the minute.

The other major force in the show is Third Sight, a magazine publisher with a focus on fortunetelling and the like; Michael ends up working there, along with Gemma and several other major characters. Third Sight also has an enigmatic boss no one has ever seen, who turns out to be a manipulative little bastard named Oliver West.

While Red Line successfully becomes a city, “Mayor” Chelmsworth turns out to have some major commitment issues and vanishes as soon as the vote passes, leaving Charlotte and Gemma to clean up the mess. Charlotte ends up interim mayor, but also begins to campaign for the upcoming mayoral election, in which she has two opponents: Isabelle Powell, a Black realtor and an incredible character whom I absolutely cannot do justice here, and Emily Bespin, Literally The Worst Person Who Has Ever Existed, Holy Fuck I Hate Her So Much.

The election is being manipulated behind the scenes by Oliver West, who also takes advantage of Nica’s isolation and a near mental breakdown to convince her to help him by orchestrating several escalating ~pranks~ in Red Line. Honestly he’s manipulating literally everyone, and also heavily backing Emily Bespin, in an attempt to profit off of influence in the new city. Eventually this ends up with Michael kidnapped and imprisoned, several other characters attacked and one badly hurt during a wedding in Red Line, and Isabelle Powell’s nephew framed for the attack. That results in Powell’s supporters beginning a set of protests which throw Red Line into even further chaos, even as Charlotte and Nica begin to have some real moral epiphanies about how they’ve been acting.

As events continue to escalate and the election draws closer and closer, the now-assembled cast have to figure out just who exactly is manipulating events and how -- not to mention how to prove Powell’s nephew’s innocence, what the hell has happened to Michael, and what the hell they’re going to do if Bespin wins the election and makes good on her promise to evict everyone involved in the protests.

Meanwhile, Dimitri is traumatized by finding a mass grave at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, gets rescued and then imprisoned in Alaska by infamous vanished plane hijacker DB Cooper, finally makes it home to Boston disillusioned and lonely only to inevitably find out his brother has been dead for two years, and then gets totally rejected by his sister, because he basically can’t catch a break.

Also meanwhile, the same conflicts playing out in Red Line play out on a more metaphysical level, in the structure of the show itself. While the first season only hints at the possibility that Leon might not be quite as gone as everyone thinks, as the show progresses Leon’s ghost makes his presence known by starting to argue with the omniscient narration. Increasingly taking over the show’s narration until a brilliant scene where said narrator quits and audibly gets up from the microphone and leaves, Leon, the man who spent his whole life trying to impose order on the chaos of the universe around him, finds himself battling the very structure of the story they’re in, in an attempt to help his friends as both he and they are caught up in the chaos of Red Line and Oliver West’s plans. Unfortunately, the structure of the story has other ideas, and plans of its own.

None of this, of course, even begins to touch on the cheese robots; or Michael’s ongoing struggle with self-actualization and alcoholism; or Mallory the foulmouthed teenager who somehow manages to first witness and then be involved in nearly every major plot event of the show; or the in-depth examination of structural racism as it relates to things like housing and city planning and Boston’s history and well-intentioned white liberals and the imprisonment of Black youth; or Star Trek obsessed chaotic neutral gay reporter Chuck Octagon and that one time he flirted with his own mirror universe self; or the complex but beautiful process of Charlotte and Gemma working on their relationship in the midst of all this chaos because while they have troubles throughout they truly love one another and are trying to be better people; or the fact that one of the other major characters is an insufferable Loud Vegan member of a polyamorous commune who -- on the advice of his ~spirit advisor~ the ghost of 19th century feminist writer Mary Wollstonecraft keeps changing his name throughout the show to things including Earthman, Panda Bear, Extinction Event, and Dipshit; or the unfortunately real Olive Garden food truck; or the laughter and the tears and the flamethrowers and the fact that one of the show’s most important and heartbreaking conversations takes place on an amusement park log flume ride audibly filled with liquid nacho cheese.

It’s a good show, is what I’m saying, basically.

[bookburnt]

a primer course on T.MA for my mutuals who followed me from other blogs and would like to know what the fuck i’m talking about!  (hi, guys.  love you.)  GONNA BE SPOILER-HEAVY IN HERE.

First off, big ups to the T.MA wiki, which you can consult on anything here, but this post is intended to serve as a very basic overview of the concepts relevant to this blog without forcing y'all to go into wiki levels of detail.  The first part of this post is some general TMA terms and concepts, and the second part is some characters who have been relevant to Gerry's story specifically.  If you're here for a better understanding of Gerry’s arc and don't care so much about the worldbuilding, scroll down to where I start talking about “who’s...?” and that should help you out.

what’s a “Leitner?”  A Leitner is a book but spooky.  They make bad things happen and, optionally, give you weird powers.  They're usually tied to one of the fourteen(ish) Entities, which I will get into in a bit.  Gerard hates these goddamn books, and has a knack for finding them and destroying them.  His mother, Mary Keay, ran an antique bookstore that did serious business in them.

what’s an “avatar?” An avatar is a (former?) human working closely with one of the Entities. Over time, the influence of their Entity changes them, often granting them certain powers in exchange for a psychological and physiological need to serve their Entity.

what are these “Entities?” / what’s this “Hunt?”  Put as simply as possible, the Entities are, like... fear elementals.  There are roughly 14 different entities, though the boundaries between them aren’t clearly drawn in all circumstances.  As follows, a quick overview:

The Eye. Fear of being surveiled.  The need to know the answers to questions that may destroy you.  The Eye is tied to the Magnus Institute. Its avatars can have the ability to magically Know things, understand all languages, and compel others to answer any questions they ask.  Gerry was tied to the Eye and had some capacity for Knowing stuff, but wasn’t fully its avatar - or if he was, he refused to feed it, which must have hastened his death.

The Desolation.  Fire, but without the warm fuzzy bits.  Pure unhinged destruction.  Desolation avatars can and will set you on fire with their minds.  Gerry’s extensive burn scars are the result of fucking around with a Desolation cultist and finding out.   (The cultist also fucked around with Gerry and found out.  He’s not around anymore.)  

The Hunt.  Being tracked by something that won't stop until it kills you.  The thrill of the chase.  Hunt avatars are capable of killing other avatars, even those who would otherwise be unkillable.  The possibility of Gerry being tied to the Hunt is never discussed in canon, but I’ve got my theories.  (That last phrase is a link to a post discussing those theories, it just isn't showing up like a link on desktop for some reason.)

The End.  Death and dying.  Manifestations of the End often involve disruptions of the natural processes of life and death.  For instance, the fucked-up necromancy book that Gerry got trapped in after dying was an outcropping of the End.

The Corruption.  Bugs, disease, rot, etc.  The Corruption's avatars may spread disease wherever they go, or they might just be chock full of worms.  Potential of controlling a worm army.

The Flesh.  The inherent weirdness of existing in a body.  Cannibalism. Flesh avatars may be hulking, twisted parodies of the human form.  They might steal your bones, turn you inside out, eat you, or all of the above.

The Distortion.  The inherent weirdness of existing in a mind.  Doors that shouldn't be there.  Getting lost.  Being unable to trust your own thoughts.  Distortion avatars look, well, distorted when seen in reflections or through glass.  Will probably try to get you to go through a door that wasn't there before.  You won't like what's on the other side.

The Slaughter.  War.  Violence.  Man's inhumanity to man.  The Slaughter often manifests in groups as well as in individuals, so you could get an episode of mass hysteria where an entire small town turns to butchering one another, or you could get an office assistant who just aches to do murder.

The Web.  Spiders.  Being controlled by external forces.  Can operate in extremely subtle ways.  Can also just be an unkillable spider who wants you to have a bad time.

The Vast.  Really big things.  Heights.  Your own terrifying insignificance on the cosmic scale.

The Buried.  Claustrophobia.  Being buried alive.

The Lonely.  Being completely alone.  Like, completely alone, and never coming back.

The Dark. What it says on the tin.

The Stranger.  Something that's not quite right.  A joke that you're not in on.  Clowns and/or mannequins that might kill you and take your skin.

BONUS: The Extinction. While the other 14 fears have been established for a while (the most recent is the Flesh, which only really came into its own with the advent of mass meat farming), the Extinction is a nascent entity born of anxiety around the idea of the human race destroying itself, and/or being replaced by something else. The boundaries of what constitutes an Extinction manifestation, rather than just a warping of one of the other fears, are unclear.

what’s a “ritual?”  Rituals are ways the Entities’ followers and avatars try to influence the world, usually with the end goal of making our world somewhere their Entity can live and feast full-time instead of just sporadically popping in.

what’s the “fearpocalypse?”  The only successful ritual to date, as of the end of S4.  Possibly the only successful ritual ever, given that it ended the world as we know it and let all 14 fears fully through the gate to fuck everything all the way up.  The sky is full of eyeballs now and that's not even the biggest problem.  This happened a while after Gerry’s death, but I have a verse where, due to his previous ties to the End and the general befuckening, Gerry is brought back to have a bad time with everyone else.

who’s Mary Keay?  Gerard's mother, founder and proprietor of Pinhole Books.  Had ambitions of starting a dynasty of supernatural power, starting with her only son Gerard, who ended up having other ideas.  Flayed herself in a ritual to make herself “beyond death” via the fucked-up necromancy book mentioned earlier.  Gerard was primed to take the fall for her seeming murder, but was let go after the book disappeared from evidence and several key witnesses retracted their testimony.  Despite the ritual being incomplete, Mary remained tethered to the world of the living for five years before Gertrude Robinson finally wrapped that up.

who’s Gertrude Robinson?  Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, and a stone-cold BAMF with a habit of sacrificing those close to her for (her idea of) the greater good.  The late Eric Delano asked her to look after his son Gerry, so naturally she let him live in torment with his abuser’s revenant for five fucking years, then swooped in when he was truly desperate.  She got rid of Mary Keay for good, and got Gerard to travel the world with her attempting to prevent various apocalyptic rituals.  The two would often pose as mother and son to strangers.         Being tied to the Eye, Gertrude seemed to be aware of Gerard’s impending death.  After he passed away, she bound him into that fucked-up necromancy book and left him behind.  (More on that here.) Gertrude was shot to death about a year later while trying to burn the Magnus Institute down and thereby prevent its head, Elias Bouchard, from doing anything apocalyptic.  (Tragically, she did not succeed.  SEE:  “fearpocalypse.”)

who’s Eric Delano?  Gerry’s father.  Died too early to ever really get to know Gerry, despite the sacrifices he made to restructure his life for fatherhood.  (We don’t need to go into the why of it here, but he did have to gouge his eyes out to try to be a stay-at-home dad.  And he did it.  We stan.)  Unfortunately, he’d fallen in love with Mary Keay, who used him to produce an heir for her planned empire, then murdered him with a pair of garden shears and bound him into that fucked-up necromancy book.  She later passed his page off to Gertrude Robinson, who spoke with him.  In that conversation, he asked her to look after Gerry and begged her to burn his page, as being bound into the book was a world of suffering. 

who’s Jurgen Leitner?  A rich, reclusive Norwegian who thought it would be cool and smart to start a library explicitly for corralling forces beyond human comprehension.  (He was wrong, and also stupid.)  Collected spooky books and put his name in them, giving them their common name.  Gerard hates this guy, associating him with the books that dominated his mother’s mind and indirectly ruined his life.  He hunted Leitner down and nearly beat him to death for personal reasons.  Upon meeting Leitner, he came away with the impression that this was just a scared old man, and couldn’t possibly be actually responsible for Jurgen Leitner’s library.  Ultimately, he chose to spare Leitner's life.  Unless we're talking about my canon-divergent Hunter!Gerry au, in which case he did not.

        Anyways, hope this has been helpful.  There's... a lot going on in TMA, but hopefully I've hit the parts that are most relevant to my writing here.  If you have any questions about canon, please feel free to ask!

[noonmutter]

Adventures in D&D part 6

- Party just woke up for the day and is headed out to the temple of Gond because they helped get a special material component for a new kind of weapon, and they want to witness the testing

- Right when they get there a dude in a cloak on horseback t-bones the paladin and party cleric says “HE’S GOT BLUEPRINTS”

- Paladin goes tearing off after him because paladin is a paladin of Gond and boy is she pissed off

- I go “can I cast Hold Person” because range is a thing and I genuinely don’t know how far away dude is yet

- DM says “...yes” after grumbling that he hasn’t statted anything out for the NPC

- Turns out this was supposed to be largely cinematic and my crowd-controlling ass just totally screwed that over but in my defense I asked and the DM said yes so really him bothering to roll a wisdom stat for the NPC and getting a 3 is his fault not mine

- Naturally the NPC fails the save and falls off the horse the instant it changes direction

- Commence the befuckening once party caught up with him, initiatives are rolled

- DM laughs triumphantly and says “He nat 20′d! He’s up!”

- Two more party members have their turns

- Mine’s up

- “I cast hold person again”

- “...you asshole”

- Fight ends very shortly after that because the party isn’t willing to totally murder the dude while he’s paralyzed

- They start interrogating him on the street

- He breaks the hold person again but whoop-de-doo he’s surrounded and on the ground

- Eventually starts messing about with a poison tooth

- Other party members go to stop him

- I go “Hey DM?”

- “...yes?”

- “I cast Hold Person again.”

- Long silence

- DM’s mic is open and we all hear thumping, I assume either his head or his hand beating his desk, and he eventually posts a screenshot of the NPC’s roll

- Even at advantage, he rolled a 1 both times

(I’m pretty sure this was the moment where I could officially call myself a Real Bard)

- “I fucking hate you”

- “YOU COULD’VE SAID NO AT ANY TIME”

- Anyway brosef is a prisoner of the Temple of Gond now and the DM is grumbling that as “punishment” we don’t get to see a really cool thing happen when the dude made his escape, to which I keep reminding him he allowed me to fuck up his plan and he can’t be mad at us for it

- Cleric casts zone of truth on the prisoner. It manages to affect two party members--Dumat included--and nobody else. Dumat knows this and sits down to hold his mouth shut and sulk

- Cleric then leaves the temple because he’s pretty sure the party’s going to torture the prisoner and he can’t participate or witness it but he doesn’t see an alternative

- By the way it’s important to mention that Dumat got ahold of Yeehaw’s Rootie Tootie Point n’ Shooty a while ago, which is a crossbow with a special ability that functionally allows him to shotgun a cone with it, but also is cursed and causes the user to grow a mullet, speak in a southern drawl, and not be able to put the crossbow down

- This was a funny gimmick for about 20 minutes before Sage Got Bored and started adding rules (after running them by the DM first)--like having to roll wisdom saves to not engage in “Hold My Beer” moments

- He has several saves to make before and during the interrogation of their prisoner

- He succeeds beautifully at all of them which is frustrating the shit out of me and the DM

- When he finally starts failing them, it’s a fuckin’ cascade of failures that result in things like shooting the restrained prisoner in the foot and then twisting the crossbow bolt around while saying shit like “Right about now I’d be tellin’ ya ta dance, but, well, that ain’t gonna work out so hot is it?” and responding to ‘I don’t fear death’ with “Well then we’ll just have to make sure y’don’t die now, won’t we?,” shooting at the Paladin--and later the cleric--when they say they should get that crossbow away from him, and shooting at the cleric because he’s being boring while reading from a holy book

- Eventually, during the torture parts, the cleric and paladin realize at about the same time that Dumat is not actually insane (the paladin remembered at the last minute that Zone of Truth was on Dumat and he wasn’t lying about the shit he was saying to this poor bastard, the cleric was just super upset by all the screaming) but is in fact possessed

- While the Paladin and Cleric are figuring out how to fix this, I go to the DM and say: “I demand that one of them be forced to a showdown in order to break the curse properly, in the "high noon" sense, Ready? DRAW! That”

- DM is On Fucking Board for this, party starts doing exorcism mumbo-jumbo, eventually Dumat’s bound body drops the crossbow and a smoky hand crawls out of it, eventually forming into the ghostly shape of a motherfucking cowboy followed by ethereal whistling of the intro notes for The Good, The Bad, And the Ugly theme

- I exclaim in voice chat OH MY GOD I HAVE ART FOR THIS and go digging through my old drawings, then produce:

- Voiced by me doing my best Frank Welker impression in a cowboy drawl, Original Character Do Not Steal (seriously though Buck is mine and I drew this in 2005, as the signature says)

- First time I open my mouth another party member goes “holy shit” and I feel warm inside

- The party actually tries to convince him to work for them and offers to let him take the body of the prisoner instead and offers him gold and stuff, to which he responds kinda like Izzy from The Mummy: 2, all “d’you think I can walk into a store and buy shit?”

- A conversation between the cleric (who insults his hat and has talking privileges revoked), paladin, and the demon who introduces himself as Buck eventually comes down to him proposing a duel for ownership of Dumat’s body, and the party rogue--who’s only been with the party for like two ingame days at this point--cheerfully agrees to be their shooter

- Back-to-back, ten paces, turn, fire (contested attack rolls)

- Duel ends like this:

"As Conny turns and fires, so does Buck. Time stands still--literally--as the twang of two crossbows fills the hall. For a moment, there's a faint ethereal sheen over Buck's crossbow, some kind of metallic cylinder. And the twang is not a twang, but a CRACK. Buck stands tall, longcoat whipping gently in a nonexistent breeze... as Conny feels a bolt enter her shoulder."

- Victorious, Buck turns to take Dumat and Shit Goes Down as the cleric steps in and casts spiritual guardians and good fucking christ this party is lucky they had two holy types who could do radiant damage because he takes a beating before he goes down

- Last thing he says before he dissipates into the ether is directed to the rogue (Conny), the paladin, and the wizard (the firebug): “See you in hell, little girls--wear somethin’ nasty”

- Crossbow drops to the ground and turns black like it’s been set on fire and allowed to cool, is promptly picked up by some acolytes with pole-hooks and put into a heavy box that the paladin is keeping close by

- I drink more fluids than you can possibly imagine for roughly an hour and a half and DMed a whole scenario because I thought it’d be cool

- I accidentally a Recurring Villain

- yay but what have i done

[tumblunni]

I am in new hous i am dying when will the strese end

Almostalmost almost done almost sleep

Just need to install oven and washing machine andiamSO LUCKY the moving van guy also knows diy and he said he'd help do it for free but im giving him extra money anyway and im forcing him to take it and also i bought him an easter egg.i was like WE ARE GOBNA DRIVE TO STORE AND IM BUY U EASTER EGG U GODDAMB SAINT

I am so fuckin tired

Im also now fuckin broke but at least i apologised to that poor guy for the hectic mess this whole experience has been

Apologized with easter egg

Also the neighbour gets an easter egg

I HAVE A NICE NEIGHBOUR FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!! Like in the movies!! A neighbour who says hi and welcome and helps you with moving big furnitures because he is just that kind and amazing. And i told him i was like 'wow neighbours like this really exist?' andhe was so shocked i hadnt had a nice neighbour before. So i told him about the weird neighbours blasting maximum volume christian rock music at 3am and he was like What. Anyway i hope we canbe friends!! I wanna buy him an easter egg every year now cos he was very touched and said it made him nostalgic for his childhood

I wish i could afford to give easter eggs to everyone in this building aaaa!! Its gonna be so interesting being part of an apartment complex instead of just a single apartment. Theres 130 of them here! The place is so big that it has two postcodes! And they have a friendly grandma enforcing the rules and lurking in the shadows to guard us from evil! And a RUBBISH CHUTE!!! YOU PUT IT IN THE WALL ANS IT GOES ZOOM!! thats so cool and conveinient i was worried itd suck to carry bags down all the stairs and stuff. I wanna know where the end of it is so i can see all the trash going zoom!!!

Also there are SO MANY shops nearby i am finally free of the hell of The One Shop Town tho i feel a lil sad it happened only a few months after a second shop opened. Thank you, small library/coffee shop! You saved me from the utter boredom of St Mellons life!

Oh also this place is called Riverside cos its near the side of the millenium stadium with the bridge and the sea and stuff. So its super close to Town! The capital shopping centre of the capital of the country, so omnipresent as the centre of everything that 'going to town' has become Only This and every other town must be specified. Also its actually a city but noone cares. Anyway its the closest thing we have to a remotely america esque busy shopping area and i grew up around there so i cant stand the food deserts out in the less commercial districts. Like i have NO CLUE why st mellons is so empty, its not even technically in the countryside yet, and its so damn populated that everything is a fuckin maze of houses and the bus routes take an hour to get out. Youd thibk itd make sense to have more than one damn shop!!

Aaa there are SO MANY SHOP U GUYZ!! Im so tired but i also wanna go explore shoppppp

And theres loads of restaurants so thats a goal for the future once im more financially stable again. Lots of nice places to try and itd help me work on my anxiety of restauranting. (I still do not know why 'you eat a thing but someones watching' is such a big scare. My brain no logic!)

So anyway the place is great and everything is gonna be great BUT the experience of actually getting here was really harrowing and loads of shit went wrong and i had such a damn panic attack that the back of my head is still burning tenseness from the migraine ive been holding back with sheer strength of will. Also i havent slept since saturday!!!!!!!!

So aghhh i hopei can get a good easy quick nap now in the new place and im not tormented by my usual nonsense where being in a new house makes me so nervous that i get dizzy constantly for the first few days and get paranoid that im gonna fall through the floor somehow and everything seems fragile and the walls seem too thin and I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING and now matter how nice the place is i always feel like that as soon as i turn the lights off and try to sleep aaaagh

Man i shoukd turn the heating on, im only noticing how frozen this place is now that all the adrenaline of panic has worn off.and also theexhaustion of lugging shit up the stairs for four damn hours, after eight damn hours of emergency last minute panic cleaning the old house after two damn weeks of systematically befuckening an entire house into a liveable state when it was seriously like an episode of hoarders and im so damn proud of myself for defeating my own unorganizedness and also smashing several bookcases into infintesimal shards with my bare hands. Related note: get bandage for hands. Also that big slice on half my toe knucles (is that a word? Like the jointy bit?) where i dropped that pointy hunk of wood and almost guillotined them off. Also i found a giant metal pipe out of nowhere and the missing heart pattern from my childhood plush toy's foot, so it was a good clean indeed.now i just have the problem that i have NO IDEA which bags i cleaned everything into, lol!

Hhhh tired

[hgfstreamchats]

The Terror finale

thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:31 PM Hello! highglossfinishYesterday at 9:31 PM Hello there! We'll dive right in because we've got a great deal of Terror to get through. thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:32 PM Oh wow, sunlight HopolitesYesterday at 9:33 PM Yes, the sun does indeed exist. highglossfinishYesterday at 9:34 PM Everyone knows the sun is a myth invented by Those Who Live Above. thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:34 PM Ha! highglossfinishYesterday at 9:38 PM "And eating English lead." thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:38 PM That, too. HopolitesYesterday at 9:38 PM Pffft Yes Sounds delicious thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:39 PM "If you know what I mean." I swear, whenever there's an outdoors scene I'm struck by how they don't quite seem to be dressed for the alleged temperatures HopolitesYesterday at 9:44 PM Also I once again have made the unwise descision of grabbing food during this show Also To be fair No one is remotely prepared thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:45 PM ...man HopolitesYesterday at 9:45 PM Whoops! You Have PTSD! thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:45 PM God, poor guy

HopolitesYesterday at 9:48 PM As he was pulling off his sock I was so worried something horrible would be revealed underneath them highglossfinishYesterday at 9:48 PM There'll be plenty of opportunities for that. thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:49 PM I bet it's something good he just saw, huh See!  Free supplies! HopolitesYesterday at 9:49 PM Oh yes Im all excited to see what weird horrors this show has in store for us, but also I would like to eat my food before anything- WHELP. thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:50 PM Ah. No bets on whether he'll end up eating those words HopolitesYesterday at 9:54 PM Ooooh yeah highglossfinishYesterday at 9:55 PM Got to love the study accumulation of things that certainly won't backfire horribly later. thenightetc2Yesterday at 9:56 PM Ohhh dear oh nooo, not the dog :< HopolitesYesterday at 10:03 PM I hope the dog reaches people before them Im reminded of a movie made of a short story done by the guy who did call of the wild that I watched in class It was about a guy trying to walk in the alaskan wilderness to a mining camp, and he literally had only a couple of shirts, and like, a dog My class cheered when the dog reached safety. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:06 PM What just happened?  The framerate has gotten super bad HopolitesYesterday at 10:07 PM Framerate is fine for me. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:07 PM Like the picture just pauses for several seconds Better, now ...well, I spoke too soon HopolitesYesterday at 10:09 PM Oh okay cannibalism is happening now. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:09 PM ~foreshadowing~ oh god :< poor dog... HopolitesYesterday at 10:10 PM This isnt even just foreshadowing, this is- oh thats wild. highglossfinishYesterday at 10:11 PM Cybertronians have cannibalism and a robust amount of things that consume us, but I have to say, it's a glorious thing not to be made of meat. This will end well for everyone involved. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:14 PM Definitely HopolitesYesterday at 10:15 PM Cant wait to see what happens. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:16 PM I feel no foreboding HopolitesYesterday at 10:16 PM Yes, this music doesn't bring up any worries at all. highglossfinishYesterday at 10:16 PM What a nice family. Only good times ahead. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:16 PM Uh oh Is that that "paradoxal undressing" or whatever it's called HopolitesYesterday at 10:18 PM Hmm Oh its stuttering thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:19 PM Oh, it's even called "horrible from supper" HopolitesYesterday at 10:19 PM Okay, I kinda love the incredibly creepy music thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:23 PM Urgh ... so you're saying you deserve to be here, huh And that other guy really IS a fake. HopolitesYesterday at 10:27 PM I would embrace a horribly punny name highglossfinishYesterday at 10:27 PM I heartily embrace mine. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:28 PM Heh. highglossfinishYesterday at 10:28 PM The Good News bell. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:28 PM It must be! HopolitesYesterday at 10:29 PM Oh always OH OF COURSE highglossfinishYesterday at 10:29 PM That's the bell that sounds when someone hasn't been stabbed. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:31 PM It doesn't get rung a lot, as you can imagine Oh, jesus SO now he's trying to frame some random people they ran into HopolitesYesterday at 10:33 PM Of course. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:36 PM yikes Ohhh no "show me exactly where you were found straddling his corpse half-naked" highglossfinishYesterday at 10:42 PM Hah! thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:42 PM oh, that's not good HopolitesYesterday at 10:43 PM Ah yes, lovely. Ah yes, a bunch of lead filled idiots have guns. thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:45 PM "whimsical tinkly music" so he's, uh, enjoying those drugs for now HopolitesYesterday at 10:46 PM I think his brain is doing a wiggle thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:48 PM dude, stop HopolitesYesterday at 10:49 PM Goodbye miss! Have a better life away from this guys! thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:49 PM "come to my country!  you can be treated like a circus animal and catch novel diseases!" highglossfinishYesterday at 10:49 PM Go with her, have a gaggle of tiny be-mutton chopped humans together. It's not going to get better. "Don't you want to die in eight months of smallpox?" HopolitesYesterday at 10:51 PM Is that the leg thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:52 PM What, uh... what's going to be in his... stomach HopolitesYesterday at 10:52 PM Please roll up your sleeves thenightetc2Yesterday at 10:52 PM Oh. HopolitesYesterday at 10:52 PM Yep thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:00 PM Well well. Oh damn it he's getting away HopolitesYesterday at 11:02 PM Amazing. thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:05 PM y'know, if the bear-thing's supposed to be some kind of revenge for all those murders, it has VERY poor timing HopolitesYesterday at 11:05 PM Actually no it has great timing I love the dichotomy of this scene compared to the previous one Its very funny Okay that zoomed in uncomfortably close to her face thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:13 PM Decent of him. highglossfinishYesterday at 11:13 PM At least spit in a few of them. thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:14 PM They're already all poisoned. Gaaaah HopolitesYesterday at 11:15 PM Whelp He is thoroughly befuckened. OOO DOUBLE SCREWED And hes the food isnt he thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:16 PM Ugh. HopolitesYesterday at 11:18 PM Whelp highglossfinishYesterday at 11:18 PM Well, then. thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:18 PM So it's the scurvy, then HopolitesYesterday at 11:20 PM Eyup thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:20 PM Yes, yes, we get it, you're laying the groundwork to eat someone soon. HopolitesYesterday at 11:21 PM Like, how obvious can they be? thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:22 PM So he's going to be first. "Good news, everyone!" highglossfinishYesterday at 11:23 PM Hah! thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:26 PM "there will be NO cannibalism on THIS trip" HopolitesYesterday at 11:28 PM Well, nice to see she got back to her people safe. thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:28 PM yeah ah highglossfinishYesterday at 11:37 PM Everything about these two hurts. thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:37 PM an albatross, perhaps? god burn poor guy HopolitesYesterday at 11:41 PM Several layers of Oof highglossfinishYesterday at 11:42 PM The oof never ends. HopolitesYesterday at 11:42 PM AN EVEN LOUDER OOF SharpwingYesterday at 11:46 PM Hi all! I am. At Walmart. So I cannot join in to watch... apparently foreshadowed cannibalism But I would like to say hi anyway HopolitesYesterday at 11:47 PM It is no longer foreshadowed highglossfinishYesterday at 11:47 PM Oh no, it's very much the opposite by this point. SharpwingYesterday at 11:47 PM agh highglossfinishYesterday at 11:47 PM But glad to have you pop in just the same. SharpwingYesterday at 11:48 PM Ok no regrets about not seeing... that. But yes! It's great to see you! How ya doing? thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:50 PM oof highglossfinishYesterday at 11:50 PM No complaints! And you? HopolitesYesterday at 11:51 PM Oh okay mr hickey has gone full weird SharpwingYesterday at 11:51 PM No complaints here either!:blush: oof, weird how? (If you feel like elaborating) HopolitesYesterday at 11:51 PM Standing int the super cold morning smiling smuggly thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:51 PM on a table HopolitesYesterday at 11:52 PM Also only wearing one layer of clothes SharpwingYesterday at 11:52 PM Yep that's Very Weird HopolitesYesterday at 11:57 PM "But what about second mutiny?" thenightetc2Yesterday at 11:57 PM pffffff highglossfinishYesterday at 11:57 PM Hah! Local man ruins everything. HopolitesToday at 12:00 AM Whoopsiedoo! highglossfinishToday at 12:04 AM Last episode. Here we go. HopolitesToday at 12:04 AM Woooo! Cant wait to see what slightly insane things will happen next! Im going to guess they will proceed to lose, at least, ten men. thenightetc2Today at 12:10 AM oof :< HopolitesToday at 12:14 AM Oh boy thenightetc2Today at 12:16 AM ...he poisoned himself in some way? highglossfinishToday at 12:16 AM Oh, this is excruciating. HopolitesToday at 12:17 AM Fascinating hallucination. thenightetc2Today at 12:18 AM ... gaaah highglossfinishToday at 12:24 AM Very gaah. HopolitesToday at 12:24 AM Sometimes I hate having pain empathy. Eesh thenightetc2Today at 12:26 AM definitely was covering himself in poison at the end there, then HopolitesToday at 12:27 AM Ooooh yeeeeeah thenightetc2Today at 12:28 AM ...I remember once someone asked you what you thought the worst thing one human could do to another would be, and you said you thought it was probably forcing someone to eat, well, this Can't imagine why I remembered that just now! HopolitesToday at 12:29 AM HAH Hopefully they dont have the lowest bidder for food. Again. HopolitesToday at 12:30 AM I mean, at that point it would be funny. Nooot really on the fur department. thenightetc2Today at 12:32 AM Called it. HopolitesToday at 12:32 AM Of course. Very inspirational. Just shoot him. thenightetc2Today at 12:36 AM I can't get over how fucked up it looks. Is this a SHAVED bear? HopolitesToday at 12:36 AM The bear has no fur Like, how will they make a coat from it? thenightetc2Today at 12:36 AM Good point. HA HopolitesToday at 12:37 AM Is the reason why the bear looks like that because- HA! HAAAA! thenightetc2Today at 12:37 AM GOOD RIDDANCE HopolitesToday at 12:38 AM But yeah, does the bear look like that because a proper polar bear would be too cute and fluffy looking? highglossfinishToday at 12:38 AM It's covered with a fine layer of fuzz and old man skin. They can make a coat of that. I think it's to emphasize that it's not an actual bear. HopolitesToday at 12:39 AM Right yeah, it had creepily human eyes. thenightetc2Today at 12:39 AM Gotta be OH NO highglossfinishToday at 12:46 AM You did the best you could, Stumpy. thenightetc2Today at 12:48 AM the camp of people who are definitely still alive HopolitesToday at 12:48 AM I once again have to say that I like the music highglossfinishToday at 12:48 AM Likewise. thenightetc2Today at 12:48 AM very eerie. okay WHAT HopolitesToday at 12:49 AM Uh what thenightetc2Today at 12:49 AM What the fuck has been going on here highglossfinishToday at 12:49 AM Apparently they really did find him like that, and absolutely no one then or now can explain why. HopolitesToday at 12:49 AM Wild! What the fuck! thenightetc2Today at 12:50 AM Maybe they all got the hypothermia madness HopolitesToday at 12:50 AM Also I love by the bend in his sleeve you can tell the actor has just, tucked his hand into it. highglossfinishToday at 12:50 AM Sensible child. thenightetc2Today at 12:51 AM dude did you not realize she has a name HopolitesToday at 12:51 AM SHE HAS A NAME YOU DIPSHIT highglossfinishToday at 12:52 AM I wonder if she ever told Goodsir. thenightetc2Today at 12:54 AM ...oh HopolitesToday at 12:54 AM Oh its because she summoned the monster highglossfinishToday at 12:54 AM It's because it died on her watch. And that's The Terror! thenightetc2Today at 12:59 AM Well. It sure was! That was a hell of a thing. HopolitesToday at 12:59 AM I do appreciate how much the show kept telling us that the British didnt belong there highglossfinishToday at 12:59 AM Wasn't it just? Awfully nice of them to let him live with them after his men killed one of their shaman and then their protector spirit. thenightetc2Today at 1:01 AM Yes SharpwingToday at 1:01 AM :eyes:like what thenightetc2Today at 1:01 AM He had some weird piercings in his face, and chains--like, jewellery chains--attached to them HopolitesToday at 1:02 AM Im sorry but I love this video making fun of the british mispronouncing a inuit word SharpwingToday at 1:02 AM Isn't getting a piercing a common occurrence during a crisis? HopolitesToday at 1:03 AM COLD BOYS thenightetc2Today at 1:03 AM ldfkjg HopolitesToday at 1:05 AM Is this a cheesy edit someone did I feel I shouldn't be giggling at this edit like I am. thenightetc2Today at 1:08 AM Sea shanty SNL? highglossfinishToday at 1:08 AM OH, YES! Perfect! thenightetc2Today at 1:12 AM FOrty-five minutes from shore! HopolitesToday at 1:13 AM Amazing. thenightetc2Today at 1:13 AM Very amazing. highglossfinishToday at 1:13 AM And that, I believe, is a good place to wrap it up! thenightetc2Today at 1:13 AM Well!  Thank you, once more, for hosting. HopolitesToday at 1:14 AM Rest well! highglossfinishToday at 1:14 AM And thank you for allowing me to subject you to this show! HopolitesToday at 1:14 AM Was fun! Always nice to make fun of the british. SharpwingToday at 1:14 AM :blush::wave: Thank you! I hope your next two weeks is good♡ highglossfinishToday at 1:14 AM And yours too! thenightetc2Today at 1:14 AM Goodnight! ...I actually have a suggestion for next time, if you're interested in something animated and a bit stupid. Latte and the magic waterstone highglossfinishToday at 1:17 AM Looks promising and delightfully stupid. Latte it is. thenightetc2Today at 1:18 AM :D

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

SO DINOSAURS HAVE BEEN BEFUCKENED

As we all know, there are two major groups of Dinosaurs: Ornithischians and Saurischians; with Ornithischians composed of things like Stegosaurus and Triceratops; and Saurischians consisting of things like Apatosaurus and of course, the theropods, such as Tyrannosaurus and modern birds. 

This hypothesis has been accepted for centuries and hasn’t really been challenged in the literature. 

Until today. 

In a paper that came out in Nature by Baron et al., a thorough taxonomic sampling of dinosaurs was used to examine the earliest divergence of the group - again, traditionally thought to be the split between Ornithischians and Saurischians 

They found this instead

I know that cladograms can be confusing for some of you so I made a diagram:

Basically, they found that Ornithischians are actually more closely related to Theropods than either are to Sauropodomorphs. 

Proposing the new name Ornithoscelida for this clade; and redefining Dinosauria. 

Because the definition of Dinosaurs is the most recent common ancestor Passer domesticus + Triceratops horridus (or Megalosaurus and Iguanodon, it means the same thing) and all of that ancestor’s descendants; that would thus exclude Sauropodomorphs (and imagine the headache SAND [Sauropodomorphs Are Not Dinosaurs] would cause my dudes). So Dinosaurs were redefined as Passer domesticus + Triceratops horridus + Diplodocus carnegii for everyone’s sanity. 

But is this study robust?

Well, it’s more robust than a lot of things (Ornithischians tend to be poorly sampled), but it comes to a lot of interesting conclusions, and it’s definitely not the last word on the subject. 

They did find some shared characters for their proposed Ornithoscelida that are not found in the new Saurischia, especially in the head; and the similarities between Herrerasaurids and Theropods are thought to be convergent. 

They also found Nyasasaurus, what is now thought to be a very derived almost-dinosaur or perhaps even the first true Dinosaur, to be a Sauropodomorph; which - if Nyasasaurus is as old as thought, aka, from the Middle Triassic (currently that’s being re-examined) - would push back dinosaur origins considerably. 

In addition, two of the three authors of this paper are responsible for the notorious “Dinosaurs aren’t ancestrally feathered” hypothesis - which my friend John has refuted in this link - and they use this new phylogeny to propose that filamentous integument [the fancy word for feathers] might be just ancestral to Ornithoscelida, and not found in Sauropodomorphs at all. While I will say that that hypothesis has more weight if this is the actual explanation of dinosaur origins; I feel it important to say that the criticisms John, I, and many others had with their ancestral feather paper, still stand (ie, that they don’t consider Pterosaur Pycnofibres to be homologous). 

This isn’t the last word on the subject. They don’t include the new taxa, Ixalerpeton and Buriolestes in their analysis, and as we know, Buriolestes does cause some changes to the traditional Saurischian phylogeny.  They also don’t include many other taxa that I feel would be relevant for such a study, such as Daemonosaurus, Kulindadromeus, and honestly, a more robust sampling from Ornithischia as a whole. 

The analysis is very thorough - and you can trust me to say that, because I’m not entirely the biggest fan of Barret, due to the whole feathered dinosaur argument - but obviously it requires more research, more examining, and replication from other scientists. It does make one thing clear though: the origin of dinosaurs is not set in stone, and we have a lot of work to do to understand it better. 

You can find the paper here. It’s from Nature but I downloaded it and put it up on Google Drive because I think it’s important for people to read and be aware of, and oh man, am I annoyed that the authors put it behind a paywall.   

[dt75artblog]

I HAVE A NEW AU STAND BACK

this one is kinda a role-swap but it is also simultaneously a train-wreck buckle in kids

I’m calling this AU “new game -” as a play on new game + haha get it

sam’s back again befuckening everything using walls of bullet points

so this au STARTS with the end of the regular game

luke saves the world, eldrant falls, etc etc

luke expects to die its very sad my bby

BUT

then he wakes up in his bedroom in batical

and is like????????? for obvious reasons

so he leaves his room and everything is surprisingly normal? no one remembers eldrant or ANY of the journey

clearly a case of time travel (blame lorelei like always lol)

it’s the morning before the “plot” happens

the only out of place thing is that luke is allowed out of the estate, and no one ever seems to remember a time when this wasn’t the case

so he goes to the nearest person he knows really well, natalia

THANKFULLY natalia has also been looking for him for similar reasons SHE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING TOO

and in this au luke and natalia are not romantically involved but they are bros

so theres a happy reunion and they are both thankful to see each other  even if it is under crazy circumstances like this

they do a little digging and it turns out that in this reality, luke was never kidnapped (giving luke a headache as to whether he is luke or asch???)(he is luke just so you guys know)

and then it is the day when the plot arrives

luke is EXPECTING van like he and natalia have made an elaborate plan to stop him right then and there

but instead of van 

lukes “score instructor” mysterica fende

(its tear)

except instead of being locrian colonel tear grants her official title is “voice of yulia mysterica fende”

both luke and natalia are thrown for one hell of a loop but then tear accidentally causes a hyperresonance transporting all three of them to tataroo valley 

no worries tho bc she knows someone that can meet them at engeve they get gotta get a ride from the coach

and natalia and luke are like ok this is gonna be fine anise jade and ion are at engeve they will know what to do they are professionals

and they get there and go straight to rose’s house bc apparently there is an “important guest from the military” there

ill give you a hint

its not jade

colonel saphir ortion gneiss meets their acquaintance and immediately luke runs outside to throw up

except its saphir not dist (bc apparently dist doesn’t exist) and saphir is pretty nice (if a bit sniffly)

at this point luke and natalia throw all their expectations out the window

which was a good idea

because guess who walks in

jade!

except he looks a lot different and he’s wearing fon-master’s clothes and saphir just called him “ion”

so that’s fun

tear seems to know him too which is a bit odd

TO BE CONTINUED 

[lizardswritings]

Ruins of Dawn (1)

When I was taken away, grabbed from my deck after walking my puppy and brought out to the middle of a forest in a windowless van, I didn't expect it to look like a resort. It was big and pristine, and a large room towards the front had a pool and glass walls and roof on the outside. A big lawn in the front, with a driveway going down the middle and out big solid doors. Those doors were the only way through the heavily guarded walls made of tall logs that surrounded the place. If you walked far enough into the surrounding forest, you would find it eventually. A gilded prison. When I arrived, there were already a few other people my age, and they continued bringing more over the next week.

There were a lot of us, when they were done. They had answers for everything, even if they weren't good answers. Why they brought us here, why we couldn't leave, why everything was so nice. They weren't monsters, they said. As if giving us all the stuff they had so we would be able to continue our hobbies made up for stealing our lives. We're just dangerous, they said.  They were protecting us as much as the general public, supposedly. Unfortunately, none of us really buy this greater good garbage they keep trying to shove on us. Some of the others were surprised and horrified that someone would do this to us, but most of us weren't surprised. Just angry. Of course they did this, people are always afraid of that which they don't understand. Not that most of us understood ourselves either. They explained it to us, once they had rounded us all up. That we were born different. They weren't sure what would happen because of it, besides what already had. Something environmental during the years we were born was the suspect, and was apparently no longer an issue. It stopped being an issue twenty years ago. Which made a few of us that were 21 and 22 years old a bit bitter. So close to never coming here. They brightly informed us that at least this meant we were all 21 to 28, a close age range. They seem unsure why the resort they prepared us didn't make us happy, as if we should be glad we weren't locked in a dungeon for simply being alive.

We pretty much just ignore them now though, and our community seemed to set itself up pretty fast as we adjusted over the past month. When we got here we all had plenty of solid white clothing, t-shirts and sweaters and pants. There was also a room with some sewing stuff, and a few others and I who could sew made clothes in there. A few people already developed some of the effects of what we all mockingly refer to as “The befuckening” much to the irritation of the people keeping us here. There were two people who had to stay in the pool permanently because they had developed gills and webbing on their fingers and toes. That was a weird day. There was an evacuation one day when another girl suddenly burst into flames because they had to get the situation under control and quickly teach her how to not do that. Some guy froze the hot tub by accident, along with two other people who were really not happy with him. We’ve been taking it in stride, as much as we can.

My back started itching about a week ago, and today I asked someone to take a look finally. They told me I had little featherless chicken wings growing out of my back.

“I’m going to be really annoyed if that’s it, since Stella can make fire and Simon can freeze shit.” I grumbled, already irritable because my back was itchy and sore and I couldn’t reach the area. Arty laughed a bit.

“Nah, I doubt that’s it Nemamiah. Remember how long it took Ezekiel and Faith to get the full gills and webbing thing going on?” They grinned at me a bit. I laughed a bit as well and nodded.

“Fair point. It’s still uncomfortable though which is bs” They nodded and shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ kind of way.

[speakingofdoorknobs]

Still an interesting flavor of broken.

Reblog If You Can Take Off Your Bra Without Taking Your Shirt Off.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

I kinda want more on the Auntie Grima au (the one where Grima was purged of evil when going back to the past) and one thing I can imagine is Auntie Grima teaching Marc how to use dark magic. I mean Morgan is canonically a [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS].

I really wish that the Tactician/Grandmaster classes allowed use of dark magic. Or even just Grandmaster, as a special promotion bonus. It feels fitting for Robin, and would make a fun and fitting contrast to Validar and Aversa. I was genuinely very disappointed when I realized that Robin couldn’t use dark magic when I was first starting out, and I genuinely hate the outfits for Dark Mage/Sorcerer, so I wasn’t just going to class her into that and leave her there to have that.

Anyway that’s a little bit off topic. Whenever I pick up Awakening again I think we’ll dive right into the Future Past DLC first because I’ve heard a little bit about it and it seems like a fun kind of absolute befuckening and this game has done that stuff real well. I bring that up because of you mentioning something about Morgan.

Anyway anyway, I still love the idea of Robin losing her memory in this one because Grima shows up and being not really evil anymore, isn’t trying to create a new Grima and ensure the end of the world, she’s just like “I have these dope powers and I want this other self to have those cool powers!” and then she shows up and tries to do whatever with Robin and Robin just collapses and Grima’s like “Hm I may have miscalculated this one.”

Robin’s relationship with her is like, trying to not get peer-pressured into becoming an ancient dragon god. Grima’s like “No it’s gonna be super cool” and Robin’s like “Okay but weren’t you evil until you time traveled? If I become Grima, there’s very large odds that I’ll become evil and stay that way, and I don’t really want to be evil and murder Chrom.”

Grima tries to teach dark magic to every single one of the Shepherds and Robin is like, oh come on, you are ruining my tactics, please just let me plan things my own way working with everyone’s individual strengths instead of trying to make us all dark mages, I swear--