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#because they're working more in manufacturing
f4nd0m-fun · 1 day
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DPxDC - Mafia Ties
Good parents Fenton and redeemed Vlad escaping to another universe with Danny, Jordan, Ellie, Jazz, Tucker, and Sam because of GIW chaos getting so bad they literally need to go to another world to get help, only for the portal to close, and they can't open it from this side. Jordan is Jazz's age maybe a year older and Ellie accidentally got deaged to her actual age give or take which is probably about a year and a half old. Yes it's the Family Breakfast ship.
@hallowsden
Cue Vlad doing his whole possession stuff to not only get them new identities but carefully accumulate a small amount of wealth, not enough to be suspicious in his opinion but still.
The Fenton parents start looking to see if/where this world has ectoplasm because the kids, and maybe Vlad, need it. Hel, maybe the parents accidentally need it too after all those years of exposure.
I know everyone chooses Gotham for this stuff, but also that's about the most I know about DC and it has a Lazarus pit underground so we're using it.
Vlad doesn't get back into the proper businessman profile, too many eyes for him to feel safe after the GIW disaster, but he does end up a Mafia boss, or at least tries. Also, Hood becomes a new 'son' obsession for him, yeah he has Danny and Jordan and Ellie but this kid is also ghosty and probably hungry or something, right?
Hood doesn't get what's up with this weird older man who always has a baby with him, let alone why he'd even bring a baby along to mafia stuff.
Vlad thinks it's safer to have Ellie in mafia meetings than be left with the Fentons during their research obsession periods because they will literally not pay attention to anything else unless it's an emergency, it's not their fault, they're learning to manage it though.
Speaking of Fentons, they work on clean energy manufacturing topside, but underground they deal with weapons. Mostly they supply them to Vlad's crew, since that's basically their testing grounds, but they also don't make anything that's actually lethal. Vlad isn't a fan of guns though but he isn't about to bring out his plasma blasts if there isn't a good reason. (He pretends anyone who sees him cackling like a maniac hit their head, he did say he hates using guns after all).
Jordan and Jazz are probably about 17/18 now. Jazz is going to college, while Jordan slips his way into the kid's mafia (yes he knows he's a kid now too, shut up, he used to be 24). This is half to annoy Vlad and half because he's curious. Jazz, of course, with a little help from both Vlad and Tucker in getting her grades moved between universes, is in college soon, and manages a full scholarship (not that Vlad wouldn't have paid if he still had his old money, in fact he might even be a little jealous that he wasn't the one to pay for her schooling).
Jordan looks a little more like Vlad than he does Jack, due to the way the ghost half fusion effects everything, but he also looks more like Jack than Maddie because Jack is what Danny would have grown into anyway.
Ellie of course just looks like a nearly carbon copy of Danny of course, just baby and female.
Danny, Sam, and Tucker are all going to Gotham Prep, if Vlad can't pay for Jazz's schooling then he's paying at just some for theirs (they might have partial scholarships but not full ride). Danny still sneaks out at night because he can't stand sitting still after an hour time being a vigilante and ends up running into the Bat. He promptly apologizes for invading his haunt and flees.
If any ships, I'm thinking Jazz/Jason and Jordan/Dick, but I'm a sucker for everlasting Trio and Tim also has a trio of his own.
Back to Ellie and Vlad. He of course is trying to keep any 'Meta' rumors on the downlow, but she's just a baby. The harness she's in is ghost proof mostly so she can't just phase out of it, but you try changing a baby's diaper and they just turn intangible, or put then down to nap when they start floating. Hel, imagine setting her down for two seconds, she accidentally makes a shield, and now she's crying because she wants to be held. Sure, Vlad and Danny both, Jordan and Ellie too, can go through shields in human form, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting or something. Eventually it gets figured out though.
I wonder how long it takes Jason to figure out that this Jordan fellow is related to Vlad. 😂
I also wonder what it would take for Vlad to actually use his ghost form outright, what kind of threat he'd expose himself to for the sake of his family. Just, shoving the kids at Jack - "Darling your aim is iced tea, let Maddie and myself handle this" - and doing what he has to.
And, yes, even as a Mafia boss he refuses to actually swear. Also, he probably still goes by Plasmius, the way his other form looks does NOT help the vampire rumors. Let alone the- well, I read a post on here a while ago where Ellie Danny and Jordan were deaged and needed his ectoplasm to survive. Imagine being a Plasmius goon in a meeting while he's trying to rock his baby to sleep and she's just sucking on his hand. You don't think much of it until you see he's bleeding and, even though it's technically red, your pretty sure it's glowing green and you're not sure if you want to ask (you won't but still). Plus, he's not even reacting to what must be a fair bit of pain, right?
Honestly, there's probably a betting pool about the whole weird family.
And of course I'm bringing in my Alfred Clockwork storyline. Flashpoint Thomas is Frighty, dead Thomas is Pariah, and Gotham is Martha. The moment Vlad finds out that Jason's grandparents are some of the most powerful ghosts in the realms (or at least this side of them in Gotham's case) he's like "okay I won't interfere, but maybe he'd like a friend? He doesn't seem to know a lot of ghosts.' (he tries to figure out which kid would be a better fit and that's when he finds out Jordan's been working for Hood this whole time. "You didn't tell me?" "You didn't know?!") 😂
Basically, give me a Mafia family who's major story plot isn't even the bats outright, it's just trying to survive after fleeing a world that may as well be destroyed at this point. Sure, they interact with the bats, cross paths, maybe even a couple relationships, but, overall, the Fenton-Masters are just outsiders in Gotham, learning to adjust to this new life.
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cat-dragoness · 8 months
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What kind of job do you have where you get to do math?!!!!!!!
I'm an engineer :D My degree is in mechanical engineering, but I'm mostly working in the aerospace field right now, which means lots of analytical stuff.
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todayisafridaynight · 6 months
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I'd screenshot every profile on here individually tbh but the new IW character lore is soooo juicy
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i'll screenshot em for the team on tumblr cause i woke up sick today
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renders under the cut. if anyone wanna look at em 👁️👁️
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tulpafcker · 21 days
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for the love of god help me i made a ghost trick sona and i had to radically change the entire plot of the game in order to make their inclusion into the cast Fit because since the game all takes place right then and there they kind of HAVE to make everything b different. love and light i will draw them soon
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hexedmaniacs · 2 years
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hello devil may cry nation, as obligatory with all new series i fixate on, i have drawn dmc ocs. they are. kinda Cringe(tm) but who cares i’m having fun and have been infodumped enough about dmc to hopefully justify them.
maybe i’ll go into lore n shit with them one day when i don’t feel as embarrassed about it (read tags for some lore ramblings cause i can’t make up my mind lol)
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odinsblog · 11 months
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🗣️THIS IS WHAT INCLUSIVE, COMPASSIONATE DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE
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Minnesota Dems enacted a raft of laws to make the state a trans refuge, and ensure people receiving trans care here can't be reached by far-right governments in places like Florida and Texas. (link)
Minnesota Dems ensured that everyone, including undocumented immigrants, can get drivers' licenses. (link)
They made public college free for the majority of Minnesota families. (link)
Minnesota Dems dropped a billion dollars into a bevy of affordable housing programs, including by creating a new state housing voucher program. (link)
Minnesota Dems massively increased funding for the state's perpetually-underfunded public defenders, which lets more public defenders be hired and existing public defenders get a salary increase. (link)
Dems raised Minnesota education spending by 10%, or about 2.3 billion. (link)
Minnesota Dems created an energy standard for 100% carbon-free electricity by 2040. (link)
Minnesota already has some of the strongest election infrastructure (and highest voter participation) in the country, but the legislature just made it stronger, with automatic registration, preregistration for minors, and easier access to absentee ballots. (link)
Minnesota Dems expanded the publicly subsidized health insurance program to undocumented immigrants. This one's interesting because it's the sort of things Dems often balk at. The governor opposed it! The legislature rolled over him and passed it anyway. (link)
Minnesota Dems expanded background checks and enacted red-flag laws, passing gun safety measures that the GOP has thwarted for years. (link)
Minnesota Dems gave the state AG the power to block the huge healthcare mergers that have slowly gobbled up the state's medical system. (link)
Minnesota Dems restored voting rights to convicted felons as soon as they leave prison. (link)
Minnesota Dems made prison phone calls free. (link)
Minnesota Dems passed new wage protection rules for the construction industry, against industry resistance. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a new sales tax to fund bus and train lines, an enormous victory for the sustainability and quality of public transit. Transit be more pleasant to ride, more frequent, and have better shelters, along more lines. (link)
They passed strict new regulations on PFAS ("forever chemicals"). (link)
Minnesota Dems passed the largest bonding bill in state history! Funding improvements to parks, colleges, water infrastructure, bridges, etc. etc. etc. (link)
They're going to build a passenger train from the Twin Cities to Duluth. (link)
I can't even find a news story about it but there's tens of millions in funding for new BRT lines, too. (link)
A wonky-but-important change: Minnesota Dems indexed the state gas tax to inflation, effectively increasing the gas tax. (link)
They actually indexed a bunch of stuff to inflation, including the state's education funding formula, which helps ensure that school spending doesn't decline over time. (link)
Minnesota Dems made hourly school workers (e.g., bus drivers and paraprofessionals) eligible for unemployment during summer break, when they're not working or getting paid. (link)
Minnesota Dems passed a bunch of labor protections for teachers, including requiring school districts to negotiate class sizes as part of union contracts. (Yet another @SydneyJordanMN special here. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a state board to govern labor standards at nursing homes. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a Prescription Drug Affordability Board, which would set price caps for high-cost pharmaceuticals. (link)
Minnesota Dems created new worker protections for Amazon warehouse workers and refinery workers. (link)
Minnesota Dems passed a digital fair repair law, which requires electronics manufacturers to make tools and parts available so that consumers can repair their electronics rather than purchase new items. (link)
Minnesota Dems made Juneteenth a state holiday. (link)
Minnesota Dems banned conversion therapy. (link)
They spent nearly a billion dollars on a variety of environmental programs, from heat pumps to reforestation. (link)
Minnesota Dems expanded protections for pregnant and nursing workers - already in place for larger employers - to almost everyone in the state. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a new child tax credit that will cut child poverty by about a quarter. (link)
Minnesota Democrats dropped a quick $50 million into homelessness prevention programs. (link)
And because the small stuff didn't get lost in the big stuff, they passed a law to prevent catalytic converter thefts. (link)
Minnesota Dems increased child care assistance. (link)
Minnesota Dems banned "captive audience meetings," where employers force employees to watch anti-union presentations. (link)
No news story yet, but Minnesota Dems forced signal priority changes to Twin Cities transit. Right now the trains have to wait at intersections for cars, which, I can say from experience, is terrible. Soon that will change.
Minnesota Dems provided the largest increase to nursing home funding in state history. (link)
They also bumped up salaries for home health workers, to help address the shortage of in-home nurses. (link)
Minnesota Dems legalized drug paraphernalia, which allows social service providers to conduct needle exchanges and address substance abuse with reduced fear of incurring legal action. (link)
Minnesota Dems banned white supremacists and extremists from police forces, capped probation at 5 years for most crimes, improved clemency, and mostly banned no-knock warrants. (link)
Minnesota Dems also laid the groundwork for a public health insurance option. (link)
I’m happy for the people of Minnesota, but as a Floridian living under Ron DeSantis & hateful Republicans, I’m also very envious tbh. We know that democracy can work, and this is a shining example of what government could be like in the hands of legislators who actually care about helping people in need, and not pursuing the GOP’s “culture wars” and suppressing the votes of BIPOC, and inflicting maximum harm on those who aren’t cis/het, white, wealthy, Christian males. BRAVO MINNESOTA. This is how you do it! And the Minnesota Dems did it with a one seat majority, so no excuses. Forget about the next election and focus on doing as much good as you can, while you still can. 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿
👉🏿 https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1660846689450688514.html
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prokopetz · 20 days
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On the one hand, it's true that the way Dungeons & Dragons defines terms like "sorcerer" and "warlock" and "wizard" is really only relevant to Dungeons & Dragons and its associated media – indeed, how these terms are used isn't even consistent between editions of D&D! – and trying to apply them in other contexts is rarely productive.
On the other hand, it's not true that these sorts of fine-grained taxonomies of types of magic are strictly a D&D-ism and never occur elsewhere. That folks make this argument is typically a symptom of being unfamiliar with Dungeons & Dragons' source material. D&D's main inspirations are American literary sword and sorcery fantasy spanning roughly the 1930s through the early 1980s, and fine-grained taxonomies of magic users absolutely do appear in these sources; they just aren't anything like as consistent as the folks who try to cram everything into the sorcerer/warlock/wizard model would prefer.
For example, in Lyndon Hardy's "Five Magics" series, the five types of magical practitioners are:
Alchemists: Drawing forth the hidden virtues of common materials to craft magic potions; limited by the fact that the outcomes of their formulas are partially random.
Magicians: Crafting enchanted items through complex manufacturing procedures; limited by the fact that each step in the procedure must be performed perfectly with no margin for error.
Sorcerers: Speaking verbal formulas to basically hack other people's minds, permitting illusion-craft and mind control; limited by the fact that the exercise of their art eventually kills them.
Thaumaturges: Shaping matter by manipulating miniature models; limited by the need to draw on outside sources like fires or flywheels to make up the resulting kinetic energy deficit.
Wizards: Summoning and binding demons from other dimensions; limited by the fact that the binding ritual exposes them to mental domination by the summoned demon if their will is weak.
"Warlock", meanwhile, isn't a type of practitioner, but does appear as pejorative term for a wizard who's lost a contest of wills with one of their own summoned demons.
Conversely, Lawrence Watt-Evans' "Legends of Ethshar" series includes such types of magic-users as:
Sorcerers: Channelling power through metal talismans to produce fixed effects; in the time of the novels, talisman-craft is largely a lost art, and most sorcerers use found or inherited talismans.
Theurges: Summoning gods; the setting's gods have no interest in human worship, but are bound not to interfere in the mortal world unless summoned, and are thus amenable to cutting deals.
Warlocks: Wielding X-Men style psychokinesis by virtue of their attunement to the telepathic whispers emanating from the wreckage of a crashed alien starship. (They're the edgy ones!)
Witches: Producing improvisational effects mostly related to healing, telepathy, precognition, and minor telekinesis by drawing on their own internal energy.
Wizards: Drawing down the infinite power of Chaos and shaping it with complex rituals. Basically D&D wizards, albeit with a much greater propensity for exploding.
You'll note that both taxonomies include something called a "sorcerer", something called a "warlock", and something called a "wizard", but what those terms mean in their respective contexts agrees neither with the Dungeons & Dragons definitions, nor with each other.
(Admittedly, these examples are from the 1980s, and are thus not free of D&D's influence; I picked them because they both happened to use all three of the terms in question in ways that are at odds with how D&D uses them. You can find similar taxonomies of magic use in earlier works, but I would have had to use many more examples to offer multiple competing definitions of each of "sorcerer", "warlock" and "wizard", and this post is already long enough!)
So basically what I'm saying is giving people a hard time about using these terms "wrong" – particularly if your objection is that they're not using them in a way that's congruent with however D&D's flavour of the week uses them – makes you a dick, but simply having this sort of taxonomy has a rich history within the genre. Wizard phylogeny is a time-honoured tradition!
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nempne · 4 months
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𝘊𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘊𝘦𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴
Yeah… It's just we're putting new cover sheets on all the TPS reports before they go out now… So if you could go ahead and try to remember to do that from now on, that'd be great…
-Office Space (1999)
§5
26 swatches
grey and white borders, thin and thick varieties for each
3 texture styles for each; high texture, low texture, and dots
available in rectangular and square
dirty/dusty/stained options
filed under MISC
simsfileshare download - updated 9 Jan '24
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tips, details and other stuff:
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tip: try using rectangular tiles with light borders in manufactured homes like mobile homes.
tip: for stained tiles of better variety, alternative between the dirtiest swatches and the yellow-toned ones (they're next to each other in the catalog, the last swatches)
I started this many months back (right when we got the news of editable ceilings!), and I'm just now finishing them because I'm slow and I'm trying to wipe out all my simple projects at the moment to work on something bigger and more challenging.
My lights aren't ready yet, I'm still working on what I want from them. In the meantime, check out these!: Classic Ceiling Lamp Set by DOT
late edit!: if you want to dirty these up way more, please feel free!! just let me know and also don't paywall it?? i'm pretty friendly so don't be scared to send me a message.
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headspace-hotel · 11 months
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Researching herbicide resistance in weeds.
A decade ago, everyone said rotating applications of different herbicides was key to stopping herbicide resistance.
Then, around 2015, evidence from a large study emerged saying that this actually causes weeds to be MORE resistant, so the best thing to do is to spray a combination of multiple herbicides mixed together at once.
Now that is being called into question too. Whoda thunk it...
Herbicide resistance among weeds is only getting stronger. Recently, scientists found an annual bluegrass (Poa annua) on a golf course that was resistant to seven herbicide modes of action at once. Seven. SEVEN. Amaranth plants been found with resistance to six herbicide modes of action at once. Twenty years ago, the narrative was that resistance to glyphosate (Roundup) was unlikely to become widespread; today it's the second-most common type of resistance.
What's more, plants are developing types of herbicide resistance that are effective against multiple herbicides at once and harder to detect. Instead of changing the chemical processes within them that are affected by the herbicides so the herbicides don't work as well, they're changing the way they absorb chemicals in the first place. Resistant plants are producing enzymes that detoxify the herbicides before they even enter the plants' cells.
It took Monsanto ten years to develop crop varieties resistant to Dicamba (after weeds made 'Roundup Ready' crops pointless). Palmer amaranth evolved Dicamba resistance in five years.
So I asked, "Why are all the proposed solutions dependent on using more herbicides, when we know damn well that this is going to do nothing but make the weeds evolve faster?"
The answer is that chemical companies have the world in a death grip. They can't make money off non-chemical solutions, so chemical solutions get all the funding, research, and outreach to farmers.
But why do chemical companies have so much power?
One of the biggest reasons is the U.S. military.
In the Vietnam war, all of Vietnam was sprayed with toxic herbicides like Agent Orange, which was incredibly toxic to humans and affected the Vietnamese population with horrible illnesses and birth defects. Monsanto, the company that made the herbicides, knew that it did this, but didn't tell anyone. The US government didn't admit that they'd poisoned humans on a mass scale until Vietnam veterans started dying and coming down with horrible illnesses, and even then, it took them 40 years. (My Papaw died at 60 because of that stuff.) And the soldiers weren't there for very long. As for the Vietnamese people, the soil and water where they live is contaminated.
Similarly, during the "war on drugs," the US military sprayed Roundup and other chemicals on fields to destroy coca plants and other plants used in the manufacturing of drugs. This killed a lot of crops that farmers needed to live, and caused major health problems in places such as Columbia. The US government said that people getting sick were lying and that Roundup was just as safe as table salt. (A statement that did not age well.)
So chemical companies make money off arming the USA military. The American lawn care industry, and the agricultural system, therefore originates in more than one way from the United States's war-mongering.
The other major way is described in this article (which I highly recommend), which describes how after WW2, chemical plants used for manufacturing explosives were changed into fertilizer producing plants, but chemical companies couldn't market all that fertilizer to farmers, so they invented the lawn care industry. No exaggeration, that's literally what happened.
This really changes my perspective on all the writings about fixing the agricultural system. The resources are biased towards the use of chemicals in agriculture because the companies are so powerful as to make outreach and research for non-chemical methods of agriculture really hard to fund. All the funding is in finding new ways to spray chemicals or spraying slightly different chemicals, because that's what you can actually get ahold of money to look into. It is like the research has to negotiate a truce with the chemical companies, suggesting only solutions that won't cause lower profits.
Meanwhile my respect for Amaranth is skyrocketing.
Who would win: The USA military-industrial complex or one leafy boi
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iberiancadre · 2 months
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I've talked about this before but I have a deep dislike of sentiment like this within "leftist" circles, regarding unions. And it's practically always from USamericans, go figure.
(Before anyone interprets this post on bad faith, which is inevitable, I am not against being in a union and I am not telling people not to join a union, it's the most inmediate form of protection workers have and that is, in fact, good)
It's this overbearing insistence on joining unions, treating it like the best (and only) way of achieving workers' liberation, and I think that shows either a bad understanding of what unions are or a bad understanding of how capitalism works. Unions are bargaining bodies for workers, that's it. They aren't revolutionary, and they aren't going to kill your boss. And I want to really hammer in this point. They aren't revolutionary. Precisely because their role is to bargain, and to achieve better conditions within the system of salaried work.
You are never going to "liquidate the ownership class" by getting longer breaks, paid holidays and an excellent health plan. Keep in mind, bargaining with the capitalist is necessary, and that in itself isn't non-revolutionary, not necessarily. But the only purpose of a union is to bargain. I really don't think people get this. A union's only purpose is to bargain, it is to negotiate. Negotiations also necessarily imply compromises and unsatisfactory deals. Unions are not a magic key to not being exploited, and they especially are not the way to liberation.*
I think this is especially prevalent in the US because of two things:
Their labor movement is so fucked that any kind of opposition to capitalism is by default radical. And therefore some people feel it's enough to just tell people to join a union. However, this isn't unique to the US and many places have it much, much worse
Living in the imperial hegemon makes it very easy to ignore any other place outside of their little sphere. People can go years engaging in left-of-DNC circles but without ever leaving their USamerican community, they end up not knowing who James Baldwin is, to give a topical example. This affects the US labor movement by allowing them to ignore other places' struggles, so it's very easy to see anything they do as the horizon of political action. They only need to look to their own country for examples in action, and the truth is that the labor movement in the US has been largely very mild. In the cases when it has not been mild (notable exceptions include the Black Panthers), it's largely forgotten, demonized or revised in bigger circles.
So you get people who call themselves communists just for being unionists. But a communist is someone who identifies the core of exploitation to be the very structure of capitalism and work and attacks it. You are not a communist, however, for believing the core of exploitation is your shit boss who refuses to pay for dental.
And what's funny is that 90% of what people on here claim to be communist and anti-capitalist is just the norm on most of the world. People will hype up the DSA or VoteSocialist2024 as if they're breaking ground, and then you read their programs and they're just socialdemocrats. They are nothing more than reformists, just another manager of capitalism.
My father works for one of the biggest textile manufacturers and distributors in the world, and unionization is the norm, it's a "union job" but it's still shitty and exploitative. There are in fact 3 unions, and they engage in petty electoralism within the workplace, only sometimes actually protecting worker's rights, and that's a country-wide norm. This is what unions end up becoming when they become established, especially with a friendly government in place.
CCOO was a union created in the late fascist dictatorship in Spain, and they were genuinely fighting (with guns!) against the dictatorship. And the moment the dictatorship ended and they became the largest union in the country, they slowly became less and less radical, and more complacent. Last year they signed a labor reform that legalizes highly precarious and inconsistent forms of work contracts. That's not "liquidating the ownership class", that's just social-democracy when it doesn't need to be the opposition anymore
To wrap up, a note on syndicalism, anarcho-syndicalism, etc.
Unions are by their very nature an organization that only operates within one aspect of the life of the working class, the workplace. Sure, it's the main one and the part that defines us as a class, but it isn't the only one. In order to actually "liquidate the ownership class", you have to take power by force, and that will have to involve intervening outside of the workplace. What syndicalists used to claim is that unions can be the base of a socialist society and organize the entire working class to destroy capitalism. However, at that point, you have created a party and called it a union. And not only a party, but a myriad of them, each with their own characteristics and desires. So a multi-party system. I will not get into the viability of multiple parties in socialism in this post, but they are not unions in anything by name.
Footnote under the cut:
*I know I'm repeating myself a lot these days on this topic, but if you live in an imperial core country, there is no way to have prosperity (as the example above puts it) without some of that wealth coming from imperialism. It does not matter if your particular country never had colonies, it does not matter if your country is stereotypically nice (fuck the Nordic countries). And no, the expoliated wealth does not only remain within the capitalist class, there is always at least some circulation of wealth from the capitalist to the workers within any welfare program. If your workplace can afford to have long breaks, that is at least in part because your capitalist is profiting from the exploitation of the third world, and because the entire economies of imperial core countries uses the wealth extracted to support their deficits and to stabilize their currencies.
It's not a hard concept. If you can understand that it's basically impossible to manufacture batteries for renewable energy without exercising violence on places like the Congo, it's not that hard to understand the same is true for most things.
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fallenhunnyapple · 1 month
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Some Baby Savior AU Expansion
This is an Adamsapple AU because I love them they have taken over my life. I'm sorry in advance because there's a lot going on and I'm bad at being succinct.
This AU works under the Assumption that Adam didn't Die to get into Heaven. He was Ascended while he was still alive as a 'reward' for staying 'good', having not eaten of the Fruit of Knowledge. But his children were still tainted because of their mother, and so while they were still young, the eldest still only being in their teens, he was taken away from them to stay safe in Heaven.
Also, there are yearly meetings held a week after Exterminations where Lucifer and Adam (and Lute) meet in order to discuss quotas, numbers, etc. They're mandatory as per the agreement.
So-
Lilith left Lucifer while Charlie was still just an infant and he had to raise her alone. It was Difficult and when Lucifer was Busy, Charlie spent a lot of time being watched by her Aunts and Uncles, the Sins. But he foolishly let himself trust the people of his ring once and they took advantage, an Overlord trying to vy for more influence hired someone to steal the Princess and hold her hostage. The night before the Extermination.
Lucifer is already overworked and stressed and now having his daughter kidnapped made him lose his mind and go on a full rampage, destroying part of Pentagram City in his blind rage and panic. Which, Great for the Exorcists as long as they keep out of his way because that means they can pick off all the freaked out and fleeing sinners.
And it's during this panicked frantic mess that Adam quite literally drops in on these shady sinners (through the ground because of Hell's shitty infrastructure) who try to Kill him. Surprise, Angelic Steel weapons are being manufactured and they can Hurt Angels. They're still no match for Adam, so he kills them, but not without getting nicked by a few bullets, his arm injured, his wing useless, and his mask a little shattered. And then he hears a fussy crying sound and finds a baby hidden in a nearby crate. Pale with cute red cheeks and golden hair. She reminds him of someone. And she reminds him of his youngest daughter the last time he saw her... Well, she's hellborne, so he wasn't going to kill her anyway. Maybe he'll just take her home with him and he can puppy dog eyes at Sera until she let him keep her!
But he can't fly with these injuries, so he needs to go to the Embassy where he knows Lute and his girls will be waiting for him. But the Embassy is really close to Lucifer's rampage zone. What's he being so insane about anyway? And after almost becoming collateral, and Adam Yelling at him, it clicks. Those red cheeks were familiar for a reason. She must be his kid. There go his plans for bringing her with him. And here he was picking out a name and everything : / He can't bring himself to hate her or to take her away from her dad when he's obviously so upset. It's Begrudgingly that he gets Lucifer's attention to give the baby back. He's attached to her now.
A week after the Extermination, there's a meeting. To discuss the use of Angelic Weapons in hell, to find out who and how they're being made and distributed and ending that production immediately. And Lucifer can't exactly trust anyone in Pride anymore so Charlie comes to the meeting. She's happy to see the weird Kitty again. Adam is Thrilled to see her and spends a good chunk of the meeting making silly faces to make her laugh.
This becomes Normal, Charlie coming to the meetings, too young to understand anything but excited to get to see Adam. She has very clearly gotten attached to him.
Many years pass (Charlie is over 200 years old, and I assume that means super slow aging so she's developmentally 6 years old) and Adam tells Lucifer to not bring Charlie to the meeting. Lucifer agrees and leaves her with Bee in Gluttony. At the meeting, Adam is there in person, pacing and stressed. Lucifer arrives to find him in that state and Adam breaks down, begging on his knees for Lucifer to keep him in Hell. He can't go back to Heaven. They're going to make him remarry Lilith and she's probably into pegging and he doesn't want to be pegged.
Lucifer tries to wrap his mind around the fact that Lilith is in Heaven. Adam feels a little guilty but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't force Lilith to go home and stop being a deadbeat Mom. Lucifer is Mad that Adam never told him Lilith was in Heaven, he knew how much of a struggle he was having without her. Adam tries to make excuses and reverts to begging again, saying they won't let him leave Heaven again if he goes back. And that hits a cord. Lucifer's angry about the thing with Lilith, but Charlie didn't know her mother. She knew Adam though, and he doesn't want her to go through the pain of losing someone important to her. Okay, he'll help keep Adam safe in Hell so Heaven can't get to him. And by that Point, Adam was reminded that there's a chance that Heaven might come after Charlie so actually he'd be staying regardless so he can keep an Eye on Charlie and keep her safe.
Unbeknownst to Adam though, Lucifer has a secret. He'd fallen in love with him. It's 100% because of seeing how good Adam is with Charlie. Charlie is Lucifer's Everything, she is the most important thing in his life and she likes and gets along with Adam and Adam clearly cares for her and that means more than anything else could. And he's in love because of it. But he doesn't tell Adam that.
Together Adam and Lucifer raise Charlie, they're Dad/Daddy and Dadam (Adam came up with it because actually being called a nickname for father reminded him too much of the kids he didn't get to see grow up). And when Charlie gets old enough to move out on her own, Empty Nest Syndrome kicks in. But in the "we're not raising a kid together anymore, we should go our separate ways" kinda way. Because the entire time Lucifer never said anything about his feelings so they'd been Platonically co-parenting for over a century while Lucifer pined.
Charlie finds out that Adam is thinking of moving out and panics because she thinks this means her dads are getting a divorce. She never knew they weren't married. She never knew they weren't even Together. Because they sure Seemed to love each other all those years! She tries to encourage her dad to tell Adam how he feels and he does. It doesn't go well. Adam doesn't believe it, he refuses. (And it's not because he doesn't love him, Adam has loved him consistently since Eden) But he just can't accept it and decides it's Definitely better to move out. Lucifer goes into a depressive isolated episode while Adam is out there going on week long Benders to try and cope. The Sins have to get involved once Charlie reaches out, worried about both of them because Lucifer is barely responsive and Adam is dismissive. Ozzie tries to find out what's going on with Lucifer and Bee is taking care of the doped up drunken depressed mess that is Adam, she knows how to deal with drunks.
The Sins and Charlie are going to help them sort out their shit so they can actually try to be happy together the way they should have been the whole time. That's about where the conversation's ended for now. Orz this is long
Gonna @ the people who seemed interested in more info @lordxsblog @fightinsoda
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sayruq · 7 months
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Here's more of what's been happening on the ground. (Once again I'm not an expert in war).
Palestinian fighters are still waging war on the state of Israel
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It is clear that Hamas and other groups have access to anti aircraft weaponry and long range missiles, partly from looting Israeli bases but partly from (and this is unconfirmed) from the Russia-Ukraine war. It's not unexpected for weapons to end up smuggled into other countries during a war.
On the other hand, Israel went from swearing it would invade Gaza on the ground to doing just about anything but that
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It's understandable why Israel would hesitate even with its 300,000 strong army
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IDF is made up of mostly conscripted soldiers who normally act as civilians once they've served their 2.5 year mandatory conscription. Not only that, IDF acts more like a police force than an army. Its soldiers simply don't have the training or mentality to fight militia groups in their home turf.
America itself doubts its capabilities no matter how it words it. This is a country that has yet to win against a guerilla army so it has experience when it comes to this
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Edit:
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Edit 2: above Hamas states the obvious
In my previous post I highlighted how disorganised the Israel military was in response to Operation Flood Al Aqsa.
This hasn't changed in the days. Israel is behaving more like a cornered animal lashing out than the so called 'strongest army in the Middle East.'
It has been dropping bombs on Syria, Lebanon and Egypt aimlessly, more out of anger than calculated strategy
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Its efforts to pushing back against the Palestinian militia isn't going well either
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in addition to naked, barbaric cruelty towards Gaza because it is not producing results elsewhere
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The tweet below is important as Russia is an Israeli ally. The Israeli right wing has been very favourable towards Putin, even willing to disagree with the US and EU policies on Russia. However Israel repeatedly bombing Syria is quickly souring Russia on the country. While Putin doesn't want to go against Israel at this point, he has become increasingly critical of the country in the past couple of days.
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Saudi went from making a half-hearted 'both sides need to stop statements to cutting ties with Israel (ties Israel and America have worked very hard to form) to outrightly condemning Israel's treatment of the people of Gaza.
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Naturally, with all of this happening, Israel has responded, not with ceasing the bombardment of Gaza, but by killing and assaulting journalists covering the genocide.
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so that it could committ war crimes without it being documented and seen by the world. War crimes such as announcing that they'd bomb a hospital in Gaza and giving doctors and nurses just hours to evacuate their patients.
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This, btw, is part of the reason they cut electricity so that Palestinians can't post their own genocide on social media. Israel brutality is costing them allies but they have no intention of stopping.
Despite all of this, there has been a great deal of support for Palestinians globally
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In short, this war is not going the way Israel thought it would. They didn't crush Hamas and the other Palestinian military groups immediately after the battle of Re'im. In fact, they're still struggling against those groups right now. They've been humiliated in front of the world after being revealed to be paper tigers and as such, they're going after Palestinian civilians in increasingly horrific ways.
The Palestinian resistance is still optimistic and they're still carrying out their plan. There's still hope for a future without apartheid.
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Apple fucked us on right to repair (again)
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Today (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tonight, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.
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Right to repair has no cannier, more dedicated adversary than Apple, a company whose most innovative work is dreaming up new ways to sneakily sabotage electronics repair while claiming to be a caring environmental steward, a lie that covers up the mountains of e-waste that Apple dooms our descendants to wade through.
Why does Apple hate repair so much? It's not that they want to poison our water and bodies with microplastics; it's not that they want to hasten the day our coastal cities drown; it's not that they relish the human misery that accompanies every gram of conflict mineral. They aren't sadists. They're merely sociopathically greedy.
Tim Cook laid it out for his investors: when people can repair their devices, they don't buy new ones. When people don't buy new devices, Apple doesn't sell them new devices. It's that's simple:
https://www.inverse.com/article/52189-tim-cook-says-apple-faces-2-key-problems-in-surprising-shareholder-letter
So Apple does everything it can to monopolize repair. Not just because this lets the company gouge you on routine service, but because it lets them decide when your phone is beyond repair, so they can offer you a trade-in, ensuring both that you buy a new device and that the device you buy is another Apple.
There are so many tactics Apple gets to use to sabotage repair. For example, Apple engraves microscopic Apple logos on the subassemblies in its devices. This allows the company to enlist US Customs to seize and destroy refurbished parts that are harvested from dead phones by workers in the Pacific Rim:
https://repair.eu/news/apple-uses-trademark-law-to-strengthen-its-monopoly-on-repair/
Of course, the easiest way to prevent harvested components from entering the parts stream is to destroy as many old devices as possible. That's why Apple's so-called "recycling" program shreds any devices you turn over to them. When you trade in your old iPhone at an Apple Store, it is converted into immortal e-waste (no other major recycling program does this). The logic is straightforward: no parts, no repairs:
https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks
Shredding parts and cooking up bogus trademark claims is just for starters, though. For Apple, the true anti-repair innovation comes from the most pernicious US tech law: Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA).
DMCA 1201 is an "anti-circumvention" law. It bans the distribution of any tool that bypasses "an effective means of access control." That's all very abstract, but here's what it means: if a manufacturer sticks some Digital Rights Management (DRM) in its device, then anything you want to do that involves removing that DRM is now illegal – even if the thing itself is perfectly legal.
When Congress passed this stupid law in 1998, it had a very limited blast radius. Computers were still pretty expensive and DRM use was limited to a few narrow categories. In 1998, DMCA 1201 was mostly used to prevent you from de-regionalizing your DVD player to watch discs that had been released overseas but not in your own country.
But as we warned back then, computers were only going to get smaller and cheaper, and eventually, it would only cost manufacturers pennies to wrap their products – or even subassemblies in their products – in DRM. Congress was putting a gun on the mantelpiece in Act I, and it was bound to go off in Act III.
Welcome to Act III.
Today, it costs about a quarter to add a system-on-a-chip to even the tiniest parts. These SOCs can run DRM. Here's how that DRM works: when you put a new part in a device, the SOC and the device's main controller communicate with one another. They perform a cryptographic protocol: the part says, "Here's my serial number," and then the main controller prompts the user to enter a manufacturer-supplied secret code, and the master controller sends a signed version of this to the part, and the part and the system then recognize each other.
This process has many names, but because it was first used in the automotive sector, it's widely known as VIN-Locking (VIN stands for "vehicle identification number," the unique number given to every car by its manufacturer). VIN-locking is used by automakers to block independent mechanics from repairing your car; even if they use the manufacturer's own parts, the parts and the engine will refuse to work together until the manufacturer's rep keys in the unlock code:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon
VIN locking is everywhere. It's how John Deere stops farmers from fixing their own tractors – something farmers have done literally since tractors were invented:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/
It's in ventilators. Like mobile phones, ventilators are a grotesquely monopolized sector, controlled by a single company Medtronic, whose biggest claim to fame is effecting the world's largest tax inversion in order to manufacture the appearance that it is an Irish company and therefore largely untaxable. Medtronic used the resulting windfall to gobble up most of its competitors.
During lockdown, as hospitals scrambled to keep their desperately needed supply of ventilators running, Medtronic's VIN-locking became a lethal impediment. Med-techs who used donor parts from one ventilator to keep another running – say, transplanting a screen – couldn't get the device to recognize the part because all the world's civilian aircraft were grounded, meaning Medtronic's technicians couldn't swan into their hospitals to type in the unlock code and charge them hundreds of dollars.
The saving grace was an anonymous, former Medtronic repair tech, who built pirate boxes to generate unlock codes, using any housing they could lay hands on to use as a case: guitar pedals, clock radios, etc. This tech shipped these gadgets around the world, observing strict anonymity, because Article 6 of the EUCD also bans circumvention:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#medtronic-again
Of course, Apple is a huge fan of VIN-locking. In phones, VIN-locking is usually called "serializing" or "parts-pairing," but it's the same thing: a tiny subassembly gets its own microcontroller whose sole purpose is to prevent independent repair technicians from fixing your gadget. Parts-pairing lets Apple block repairs even when the technician uses new, Apple parts – but it also lets Apple block refurb parts and third party parts.
For many years, Apple was the senior partner and leading voice in blocking state Right to Repair bills, which it killed by the dozen, leading a coalition of monopolists, from Wahl (who boobytrap their hair-clippers with springs that cause their heads irreversibly decompose if you try to sharpen them at home) to John Deere (who reinvented tenant farming by making farmers tenants of their tractors, rather than their land).
But Apple's opposition to repair eventually became a problem for the company. It's bad optics, and both Apple customers and Apple employees are volubly displeased with the company's ecocidal conduct. But of course, Apple's management and shareholders hate repair and want to block it as much as possible.
But Apple knows how to Think Differently. It came up with a way to eat its cake and have it, too. The company embarked on a program of visibly support right to repair, while working behind the scenes to sabotage it.
Last year, Apple announced a repair program. It was hilarious. If you wanted to swap your phone's battery, all you had to do was let Apple put a $1200 hold on your credit card, and then wait while the company shipped you 80 pounds' worth of specialized tools, packed in two special Pelican cases:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/22/apples-cement-overshoes/
Then, you swapped your battery, but you weren't done! After your battery was installed, you had to conference in an authorized Apple tech who would tell you what code to type into a laptop you tethered to the phone in order to pair it with your phone. Then all you had to do was lug those two 40-pound Pelican cases to a shipping depot and wait for Apple to take the hold off your card (less the $120 in parts and fees).
By contrast, independent repair outfits like iFixit will sell you all the tools you need to do your own battery swap – including the battery! for $32. The whole kit fits in a padded envelope:
https://www.ifixit.com/products/iphone-x-replacement-battery
But while Apple was able to make a showy announcement of its repair program and then hide the malicious compliance inside those giant Pelican cases, sabotaging right to repair legislation is a lot harder.
Not that they didn't try. When New York State passed the first general electronics right-to-repair bill in the country, someone convinced New York Governor Kathy Hochul to neuter it with last-minute modifications:
https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2022/12/weakened-right-to-repair-bill-is-signed-into-law-by-new-yorks-governor/
But that kind of trick only works once. When California's right to repair bill was introduced, it was clear that it was gonna pass. Rather than get run over by that train, Apple got on board, supporting the legislation, which passed unanimously:
https://www.ifixit.com/News/79902/apples-u-turn-tech-giant-finally-backs-repair-in-california
But Apple got the last laugh. Because while California's bill contains many useful clauses for the independent repair shops that keep your gadgets out of a landfill, it's a state law, and DMCA 1201 is federal. A state law can't simply legalize the conduct federal law prohibits. California's right to repair bill is a banger, but it has a weak spot: parts-pairing, the scourge of repair techs:
https://www.ifixit.com/News/69320/how-parts-pairing-kills-independent-repair
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Every generation of Apple devices does more parts-pairing than the previous one, and the current models are so infested with paired parts as to be effectively unrepairable, except by Apple. It's so bad that iFixit has dropped its repairability score for the iPhone 14 from a 7 ("recommend") to a 4 (do not recommend):
https://www.ifixit.com/News/82493/we-are-retroactively-dropping-the-iphones-repairability-score-en
Parts-pairing is bullshit, and Apple are scum for using it, but they're hardly unique. Parts-pairing is at the core of the fuckery of inkjet printer companies, who use it to fence out third-party ink, so they can charge $9,600/gallon for ink that pennies to make:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer
Parts-pairing is also rampant in powered wheelchairs, a heavily monopolized sector whose predatory conduct is jaw-droppingly depraved:
https://uspirgedfund.org/reports/usp/stranded
But if turning phones into e-waste to eke out another billion-dollar stock buyback is indefensible, stranding people with disabilities for months at a time while they await repairs is so obviously wicked that the conscience recoils. That's why it was so great when Colorado passed the nation's first wheelchair right to repair bill last year:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair
California actually just passed two right to repair bills; the other one was SB-271, which mirrors Colorado's HB22-1031:
https://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/billNavClient.xhtml?bill_id=202320240SB271
This is big! It's momentum! It's a start!
But it can't be the end. When Bill Clinton signed DMCA 1201 into law 25 years ago, he loaded a gun and put it on the nation's mantlepiece and now it's Act III and we're all getting sprayed with bullets. Everything from ovens to insulin pumps, thermostats to lightbulbs, has used DMCA 1201 to limit repair, modification and improvement.
Congress needs to rid us of this scourge, to let us bring back all the benefits of interoperability. I explain how this all came to be – and what we should do about it – in my new Verso Books title, The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.
https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently
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Image: Mitch Barrie (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Daytona_Skeleton_AR-15_completed_rifle_%2817551907724%29.jpg
CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en
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kambanji (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/kambanji/4135216486/
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Rawpixel (modified) https://www.rawpixel.com/image/12438797/png-white-background
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Note
To preface this, I know there are parts of this that make me look bad. I know. I've been a substandard boss and I should've taken care of the situation a long time ago. But I'm in a bind and I really just need to know if I'd compound my assholishness by doing the main thing I'm about to ask.
I manage a manufacturing business that also has a delivery component. We make the product and make sure it gets where it needs to go--which I'm sure you understand isn't as easy as it used to be, with Amazon and Temu and all of those nipping at our nose. The manufacturing sector is working fine, no complaints, absolutely shipshape. It's in deliveries where the problem starts.
We have a newer employee who...let's just say stands out from the rest of the bunch, who are mostly old guard. They're reliable, I've been working with them for years, but they're set in their ways and have been giving the new guy shit, especially over his appearance. It's not even about something he can control, poor kid, but I don't want to get more specific than that. I've been so swamped with getting everything ready for the holiday season that I dropped the ball and let them treat the kid pretty poorly. I know I can't dictate what they do outside of work, so them leaving him out of social events was out of my hands, but I've caught them calling him just awful things when they thought I wasn't around. I should've come down harder but I was afraid our productivity would suffer as a result. (And if I'm honest, I thought a little bullshit would toughen the kid up. Our industry isn't for the faint of heart, after all.)
But now we're down to the deadline and I think he's our only option. He's the perfect choice, and the kicker is it's BECAUSE he's different from the rest of the guys. But I'd feel like a bit of an ass if I asked him to swoop in and save us after the way everyone's treated him. WIBTA if I asked Rudolph, with his nose so bright, to guide my sleigh tonight? Time-sensitive question, sorry mod, but maybe just this once you can move it up the queue? After all, I did bring you that Pokemon game you wanted more than anything when you were ten!
What are these acronyms?
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autisticandroids · 8 months
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i've been seeing ai takes that i actually agree with and have been saying for months get notes so i want to throw my hat into the ring.
so i think there are two main distinct problems with "ai," which exist kind of in opposition to each other. the first happens when ai is good at what it's supposed to do, and the second happens when it's bad at it.
the first is well-exemplified by ai visual art. now, there are a lot of arguments about the quality of ai visual art, about how it's soulless, or cliche, or whatever, and to those i say: do you think ai art is going to be replacing monet and picasso? do you think those pieces are going in museums? no. they are going to be replacing soulless dreck like corporate logos, the sprites for low-rent edugames, and book covers with that stupid cartoon art style made in canva. the kind of art that everyone thinks of as soulless and worthless anyway. the kind of art that keeps people with art degrees actually employed.
this is a problem of automation. while ai art certainly has its flaws and failings, the main issue with it is that it's good enough to replace crap art that no one does by choice. which is a problem of capitalism. in a society where people don't have to sell their labor to survive, machines performing labor more efficiently so humans don't have to is a boon! this is i think more obviously true for, like, manufacturing than for art - nobody wants to be the guy putting eyelets in shoes all day, and everybody needs shoes, whereas a lot of people want to draw their whole lives, and nobody needs visual art (not the way they need shoes) - but i think that it's still true that in a perfect world, ai art would be a net boon, because giving people without the skill to actually draw the ability to visualize the things they see inside their head is... good? wider access to beauty and the ability to create it is good? it's not necessary, it's not vital, but it is cool. the issue is that we live in a society where that also takes food out of people's mouths.
but the second problem is the much scarier one, imo, and it's what happens when ai is bad. in the current discourse, that's exemplified by chatgpt and other large language models. as much hand-wringing as there has been about chatgpt replacing writers, it's much worse at imitating human-written text than, say, midjourney is at imitating human-made art. it can imitate style well, which means that it can successfully replace text that has no meaningful semantic content - cover letters, online ads, clickbait articles, the kind of stuff that says nothing and exists to exist. but because it can't evaluate what's true, or even keep straight what it said thirty seconds ago, it can't meaningfully replace a human writer. it will honestly probably never be able to unless they change how they train it, because the way LLMs work is so antithetical to how language and writing actually works.
the issue is that people think it can. which means they use it to do stuff it's not equipped for. at best, what you end up with is a lot of very poorly written children's books selling on amazon for $3. this is a shitty scam, but is mostly harmless. the behind the bastards episode on this has a pretty solid description of what that looks like right now, although they also do a lot of pretty pointless fearmongering about the death of art and the death of media literacy and saving the children. (incidentally, the "comics" described demonstrate the ways in which ai art has the same weaknesses as ai text - both are incapable of consistency or narrative. it's just that visual art doesn't necessarily need those things to be useful as art, and text (often) does). like, overall, the existence of these kids book scams are bad? but they're a gnat bite.
to find the worst case scenario of LLM misuse, you don't even have to leave the amazon kindle section. you don't even have to stop looking at scam books. all you have to do is change from looking at kids books to foraging guides. i'm not exaggerating when i say that in terms of texts whose factuality has direct consequences, foraging guides are up there with building safety regulations. if a foraging guide has incorrect information in it, people who use that foraging guide will die. that's all there is to it. there is no antidote to amanita phalloides poisoning, only supportive care, and even if you survive, you will need a liver transplant.
the problem here is that sometimes it's important for text to be factually accurate. openart isn't marketed as photographic software, and even though people do use it to lie, they have also been using photoshop to do that for decades, and before that it was scissors and paintbrushes. chatgpt and its ilk are sometimes marketed as fact-finding software, search engine assistants and writing assistants. and this is dangerous. because while people have been lying intentionally for decades, the level of misinformation potentially provided by chatgpt is unprecedented. and then there are people like the foraging book scammers who aren't lying on purpose, but rather not caring about the truth content of their output. obviously this happens in real life - the kids book scam i mentioned earlier is just an update of a non-ai scam involving ghostwriters - but it's much easier to pull off, and unlike lying for personal gain, which will always happen no matter how difficult it is, lying out of laziness is motivated by, well, the ease of the lie.* if it takes fifteen minutes and a chatgpt account to pump out fake foraging books for a quick buck, people will do it.
*also part of this is how easy it is to make things look like high effort professional content - people who are lying out of laziness often do it in ways that are obviously identifiable, and LLMs might make it easier to pass basic professionalism scans.
and honestly i don't think LLMs are the biggest problem that machine learning/ai creates here. while the ai foraging books are, well, really, really bad, most of the problem content generated by chatgpt is more on the level of scam children's books. the entire time that the internet has been shitting itself about ai art and LLM's i've been pulling my hair out about the kinds of priorities people have, because corporations have been using ai to sort the resumes of job applicants for years, and it turns out the ai is racist. there are all sorts of ways machine learning algorithms have been integrated into daily life over the past decade: predictive policing, self-driving cars, and even the youtube algorithm. and all of these are much more dangerous (in most cases) than chatgpt. it makes me insane that just because ai art and LLMs happen to touch on things that most internet users are familiar with the working of, people are freaking out about it because it's the death of art or whatever, when they should have been freaking out about the robot telling the cops to kick people's faces in.
(not to mention the environmental impact of all this crap.)
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piscespetals · 7 months
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summary: you & sevika work in an office, and developing a silly schoolgirl crush is the last thing you expected to happen at this point in your career...
word count: i stopped counting 3/4 of the way through once I reached 16k so this is pretty hefty!
content: pinning (of course), fluff, gay disaster, the tiniest sliver of smut
thanks for reading!
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Kinda in my feelings about what it would be like to work in the same office as Sevika...
╰➤ I feel like you see her in passing a lot, since her office is only a few doors down from yours.
╰➤ The both of you often strike up casual conversations in the break room, filling the silence while awkwardly waiting for your food to heat up in the microwave.
╰➤ You always notice when she walks into the same room as you because she's constantly dressed to the nines—slacks hugging her thick thighs just right; form fitting and sleek. They shape the curved muscles of her calves as if the manufacturers make the material just for her.
╰➤ You also notice that she has a knack for neutral colors, especially with her dress shirts. She likes the top buttons to be undone, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and collar perfectly crisp. The air that swarms her is usually woodsy with a hint of spice.
╰➤ She's magical.
╰➤ And because of that, you aren't surprised at the buzz about her in the workplace. She's one of the new hires so it's natural for her to stir up curiosity. But beyond that, there's no doubt that she's quite the enigma. You've even heard a few colleagues gossip about how much they want her.
╰➤ The first time you interact with her is when you're waiting for the microwave to finish warming up your lasagna.
╰➤ Her dress shoes click softly against the tile floor as she enters the break room, causing you to glance over your shoulder. Your eyes widen when her gaze flickers from the microwave to you.
╰➤ "Hi," You mumble pathetically. Your stomach churns and your toes curl and all of a sudden, it's like you're a shy prepubescent person all over again.
╰➤ She smells good.
╰➤ "Hey," Her voice is deep and warm. It rings straight through you before settling at the pit of your stomach.
╰➤ "Uh," You swallow, shifting your weight. "I'm almost done. Then you can use it."
╰➤ She doesn't say anything else.
╰➤ Her lack of silence sparks a wave of nerves. Next thing you know, you're gesturing towards the microwave wordlessly.
╰➤ She follows the motion, eyebrows quirking up with interest.
╰➤ "I'm having lasagna for lunch," You announce. "This is my third time having to warm it up. I forgot how stubborn pasta can be in a microwave." Then you're patting the top of the rectangular miniature oven.
╰➤ You almost allow yourself to think that her expression has morphed into amusement. But before you get carried away with your thoughts, a loud ding! sounds.
╰➤ Quickly, you open the microwave door, carefully reaching for your steaming tupperware container so that you don't burn yourself.
╰➤ "Well, it's all yours!" You don't have the courage to meet her gaze anymore, finding more interest in the carpet as you leave the room and make a beeline straight to your office.
╰➤ Interactions after that are somewhat similar. Sometimes, she asks, "How've you been?" If the wait to use the microwave is longer than usual.
╰➤ The conversations are more surface level than anything—a routine song and dance to fill up silence for the sake of politeness.
╰➤ They're strings of, "The weathers been nice lately" and, "What are you eating today?" and, "How's the workload been for you?"
╰➤ Then you both are scurrying off to your own little sanctuaries, not planning to see each other until the next business day.
╰➤ There's another time when you're late to going on break. You usually like to be one of the first ones to clock out and heat up your food. There's only one working microwave because your boss is too cheap to replace the second one (that has been broken for several months now), which causes a long line to form for those wanting to warm up their home lunches.
╰➤ Unfortunately, today is the day where you have to join the majority and step in line. Due to a phone call that lasted longer than you expected, you don't end up going to lunch until 15 minutes later than you usually do.
╰➤ You're softly rocking on your heels when Sevika comes into view. She rounds the corner of the office, stalking towards the line with taut muscles and a grinding jaw. An air of annoyance lingers around her, eyes unfocused and seemingly far away, hands—
╰➤ "Are you gonna step forward?" Shane, a co-coworker, asks. He appears disgruntled, pointing at the gap of space in front of you.
╰➤ That seems to gain Sevika's attention. She peers at Shane shortly before dragging her piercing stare towards you.
╰➤ Shane huffs at your silence.
╰➤ "Oh, right!" You breathe, breaking away from Sevika's regard. "Uh, sorry."
╰➤ Taking a few steps forward, you close the distance, doing your best to ignore Shane's rant about "dillydallying workers."
╰➤ A few moments pass before that familiar image of Sevika's grey eyes resurface in your brain. Glancing back towards her, you find her scuffing the heel of her dress boots against the carpet, attention set on no particular thing. She jumps between the carpet, to the gossiping co-workers nearby, to the flickering ceiling lights.
╰➤ Just when you're about to turn back around, she glances towards you. Your gut pulls, ears rushing with adrenaline and veins buzzing.
╰➤ Then, she mouths, "Hi," and you almost combust right then. Gone is the frustrated expression that was adorning her features moments before. Instead, a ghost of a smile plays on her lips.
╰➤ You blink a few times; stunned.
╰➤ You think you wave back at her, but you can't seem to be entirely in touch with whatever your body is doing.
╰➤ "Um, hey." You reply, clearing your throat.
╰➤ It's loud enough for her to hear. But it also may have been too loud. A few other people surrounding you look over in confusion.
╰➤ "Were you talking to me?" Brian, a colleague who's standing right in front of Sevika, asks.
╰➤ You bite the inside of your cheek. "Oh—uh, no. Sorry."
╰➤ Brian looks around, not so subtly, probably trying to find out who the hell your greeting was directed to.
╰➤ Sevika laughs at the interaction. It's the kind of laugh where she presses her lips together, shoulders shaking and eyes dancing with humor. She's trying to be polite—trying to contain her laughter—but she's not doing a very good job.
╰➤ The sight causes you to shuffle your feet in embarrassment, blowing a raspberry.
╰➤ "Look, I've only got twenty minutes of my lunch break left so if you aren't gonna pay attention..." Shane admonishes, voice thin. He's gesturing to the growing gap in front of you again, clearly fed up with your lack of wherewithal.
╰➤ You bite the inside of your cheek, choosing to ignore the way that Sevika seems to be laughing harder now. Fighting off a giggle of your own becomes difficult.
╰➤ "Okay." You reply. Then you face forward, catching up with the rest of the line. "Sorry."
╰➤ The next time you see Sevika, it's when you run into her before a staff meeting.
╰➤ Literally.
╰➤ You aren't paying attention, too busy with shuffling through your purse for a granola bar, eyes downcast and head hung low, when you walk straight into her.
╰➤ Her body is firm, your forehead knocking against the rounded muscle of her shoulder. Your breath catches, eyes widening as you try to glance up, struggling to regain your bearings.
╰➤ Strong hands grab onto your upper arms. The feeling of thumbs pressing into your skin jolts you awake from the daze you've been experiencing all day. And like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel yourself hovering closer—drunk off of the delicious air that surrounds you.
╰➤ Sevika's air.
╰➤ "Oh," You huff, blinking up at her with wide eyes. In the back of your brain, you register the feeling of her large hands encircling your biceps. It's a feeling you welcome. But it becomes faint when you realize the reality of the situation. "I'm so sorry," You spit out, remorse crashing into you. "Fuck—I mean...frick." A startled laugh escapes you. "Frick because fuck is totally not work appropriate...obviously."
╰➤ You swallow thickly. Your legs tremble, an undeniable pressure sprouting in your gut under the feeling of Sevika's pressing gaze. Her stormy grey eyes examine you with interest. It leaves your mind clouded over with impure thoughts—unprofessional thoughts.
╰➤ "I wasn't looking." You add.
╰➤ "Clearly." Sevika's sporting a shit eating grin. Her hands squeeze your biceps. "You good?"
╰➤ "I'm good. Just—" You clear your throat. "Well, I was actually looking for a granola bar. I forgot to take a lunch break because I'm drowning in paperwork. And then Cam announced the meeting at the last minute so I thought I could get a quick bite on the way. Except I'm pretty sure I've somehow lost my granola bar which is just my luck. And-"
╰➤ Sevika's eyebrows are raised so high that they almost meet her hairline. "I see," She mutters, sounding impassive.
╰➤ Fuck.
╰➤ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
╰➤ Maybe you're talking a bit too much—a habit you've been trying to break lately—but it's only because Sevika makes you nervous.
╰➤ It goes beyond her demeanor that screams, "I don't like people so respectfully, leave me the fuck alone."
╰➤ Sevika is your work crush. She's gorgeous and good at meeting the weekly stats, and smells good.
╰➤ Despite the office rumors of her unapproachability and death glares, she's not entirely awful in your presence. She's pretty cordial with you in fact. Which means, she doesn't dislike you as much as she probably does the others.
╰➤ After all, she always lets you use the microwave before her. And she doesn't make you feel completely useless when you tell her a cringey joke, or make an embarrassing attempt to strike up conversation.
╰➤ But now, you've opened your mouth.
╰➤ You've opened your fucking mouth and have probably turned her off before she could even get a chance to truly know you.
╰➤ You've fumbled.
╰➤ The realization embarrasses you.
╰➤ "Yeah," You respond. The both of you fall silent and you imagine a static screen being displayed on a person's TV somewhere in the world. That's the perfect personification of this moment, you think.
╰➤ Sevika hums, letting her hands fall back to her sides. Then she's stepping back, slightly faltering and looking down at the space between you both. You follow her gaze, eyes widening at the sight of fingers gripping the hem of her shirt. Your fingers.
╰➤ "Oh! Sorry," You repeat. You tug your hands away, breath catching in your throat. "This is—" Your lips pinch together.
╰➤ God, this is embarrassing.
╰➤ Clearly scandalized, you tread a few paces backward.
╰➤ "Um, actually, I should go pee! I haven't had a chance yet, w-with the workflow and all. Especially now that the staff meeting starts soon," Your thumb juts in a general direction of the restroom behind you. "Gotta hate those bladder infections, am I right?" Pathetically, you force out a laugh.
╰➤ Humor trickles onto Sevika's features. Her lip twitches. "Right..."
╰➤ "Not that I have a bladder infection right now! I'm preventing one by going to the bathroom. My bladder is perfectly fine." One of the straps of your purse falls off your shoulder. You readjust it. "...Not that you care, or like, anything."
╰➤ A pause bleeds into the atmosphere. Slight chatter travels from a few offices down. People emerge from their desk, hastily making their way to the conference room behind Sevika. You struggle to ignore the sound of tapping keyboards and squeaking chairs. The lull is excruciating.
╰➤ "Okay, well–" You force a cough. "I'll go now. Catch you later, Sevika." You almost allow yourself to believe that her eyes widen when you say her name.
╰➤ But then you're turning on your heels and scurrying away, discarding the ridiculous notion.
╰➤ It's the next day when you run into her again. There you are, standing in front of the microwave, when you hear chuckling. It's easy for you to know it's hers. You find yourself savoring the sound every time it leaves her lips.
╰➤ A smile stretches across your face, and you peer over your shoulder, eyes landing on her for the first time that day. Sevika's wearing a white long-sleeve undershirt, partially covered with a black sweater vest and beige slacks. She has her hair styled in a half-up, half down. She's fiddling with a gold plated watch on her wrist, expression smug and eyes regarding the person beside her.
╰➤ The microwave beeps; a sign that it's time for you to retrieve your lunch and head back to your office. But your eyes can't help but linger on the stranger beside Sevika.
╰➤ Well, they're not really a stranger. Their name is Kai. You don't know Kai personally. You just know of them. They work in the warehouse, so you only see them during the times that all departments are required to attend the staff meetings.
╰➤ Occasionally, you may see Kai if they visit one of their friends that work on the same floor as you. They have chestnut brown eyes and a badass sleeve that covers their entire right arm. But besides that, they’re a complete stranger.
╰➤ "Smells good," Kai announces, turning to you. There's a glint in their eyes as they gaze at you, and that makes you feel exposed for some reason. You can't understand why or even how.
╰➤ Then, your attention diverts to the way that Kai’s fingers dance along the cuff of Sevika's sleeve. They trail up the material, alongside Sevika's forearm, before pulling away. It's the smallest gesture—something a general onlooker wouldn't notice without staring incredibly hard—but you noticed. You wish you hadn't.
╰➤ "Thanks," You mumble.
╰➤ You turn around, swallow, blink, and open the microwave door. You ignore the burning of the tupperware container against your skin, trying to shut out the pounding of your heart.
╰➤ "Hey," Sevika greets, the quietest she ever has.
╰➤ It's harder for you to meet her eyes in that moment. You're distracted by Kai’s swaying, and how it's perfectly on beat with the music that echoes through the office speakers; how they’re majestically relaxed in a way that you never can be.
╰➤ You don't understand why such strong feelings surge through you; feelings of envy and doom and a hint of jealousy. It doesn't make sense. It isn't logical. But it's there. It's annoyingly there.
╰➤ "You're the one who just got promoted to be Cam's assistant, right?" Kai asks. You stop in your tracks, halfway between the microwave and them. A wave of shock washes over you. You never thought they ever noticed you.
╰➤ "Um, yeah. It's not really a promotion, though..."
╰➤ "No?" Kai glances at Sevika out of the corner of their eye. "Vika said so. She's mentioned it a few times, actually."
╰➤ That's when you find the courage to glance over to Sevika. Her cloudy grey eyes observe the floor, jaw grinding and hands shoved into her pockets. Sevika knows your job title?
╰➤ It feels ridiculous to be excited over such a revelation. After all, you and Sevika work in the same fucking building. How can she not know what you do?
╰➤ But there are countless coworkers in surrounding cubicles who never catch your attention; people you've never talked to. People who would never know that your office resided within walking distance from them. And the notion is the same for you when you find yourself surrounded by unfamiliar faces on days you stray too far from your office.
╰➤ But Sevika knows. She pays attention. Whether that's a good or bad thing, you allow your heart to savor the thought.
╰➤ "Oh," You mumble, swallowing thickly. Suddenly, the thought of Kai’s close proximity to Sevika doesn't seem so bad.
╰➤ "Well, anyways, there's a clerk position opening up and I may have interest in it. Kinda wanna be a corporate person now, you know?" Kai grins, laughing lightly. You smile in return. "If I land the job, maybe you can help me get adjusted to office life? Show me the ropes a little. Vika says you're the best one on the sales team."
╰➤ Vika says you're the best one on the sales team.
╰➤ Vika says you're the best.
╰➤ Sevika's head lifts, rolling her eyes as she nudges Kai with her elbow. Kai yelps then coughs seconds after. 
╰➤ "I just do what's in my job description." You bashfully admit.
╰➤ Kai’s grin widens. “Right…” Their words are slow and heavy with an unspoken implication.
╰➤ Their gaze shifts to Sevika, then you, then Sevika, and back to you again. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and you find yourself feeling self conscious; it feels like they know something about you that you don't want them to.
╰➤ “I’m just gonna squeeze by really quick,” Kai announces.
╰➤ You side step, allowing them to head towards the vending machines. You make the mistake of not being spatially aware, moving over a bit too far and knocking into the table positioned to your right. 
╰➤ "You okay?"
╰➤ Your eyebrows furrow at Sevika's question—at her concern. The way her gaze flickers between you and the table has your stomach tugging. Your fingers tighten around your tupperware container.
╰➤ "Just clumsy," You explain, nodding at her. "Which you probably already, uh, know."
╰➤ Your memory travels back to the day before, and how you ran right into her.
╰➤ You're not sure you'll ever be able to forget something so embarrassing.
╰➤ Sevika smiles and you realize that it's the most genuine thing you've seen all day. "Oh," She says knowingly. "I do."
╰➤ She's teasing you but you don't mind it. You couldn't even if you tried because you're too caught up in how breathtakingly handsome she is. The intricate details of Sevika's smile always has a powerful effect on you.
╰➤ She has the tiniest dimples in her chin, puffy dark lips gorgeously contrasting to the whites of her teeth. And her gap—goodness, that gap has you wanting to curl up into a ball and melt away. It's placed right between her two front teeth.
╰➤ You hold your tupperware container tighter against the lower pouch of your belly, feet rocking forwards and backwards, head swimming from Sevika's presence. She has you completely gone for her. A proper crush—and surely, due to the current circumstances of being coworkers—a rather inappropriate crush too.
╰➤ "You know," You find yourself saying. "I just realized...I've never actually introduced myself to you."
╰➤ Sevika straightens, eyes flashing with that familiar light of humor. "You're right. You haven't," She clicks her tongue. "How rude."
╰➤ Your skin prickles, "I'm the rude one?"
╰➤ "Are you insinuating otherwise?"
╰➤ "Yes." You nod, trying to erase your smile. Your cheeks are starting to ache. "Did it not take you two months to say more than just Hi to me?"
╰➤ "Not true." She clears her throat. "Sometimes, I would say hey instead."
╰➤ Your jaw drops and silence fills the room.
╰➤ And then you're laughing. It's the type of giggle that bubbles over with an emotion similar to returning home. Your cheeks ache and so does your stomach; your vision momentarily blurs from the action of squinting. Sevika joins you with her own laughter but hers is more beautiful. It's like the soft breeze of the wind on a spring morning. You'd try to make her laugh forever if you really could.
╰➤ Soon you're exhaling softly, features relaxing as you glance towards her. "I'm sure you already know who I am, and what I do here. But, for formality reasons..." You begin. It feels weird to introduce yourself to her, especially after seeing her nearly everyday for the last four months. After all, it seems like she knows enough to have already talked about you to Kai. But it makes you feel better to do it this way. You give her your name personally and shake her hand.
╰➤ A proper introduction.
╰➤ Sevika repeats your name under her breath, trying it out for herself. The sound of it causes your toes to curl inside of your shoes. When she shakes your hand, you take note of how large her fingers are compared to yours. One of her hands could engulf the both of yours without any effort. And her skin is warm and calloused. Despite the rough exterior, she touches you with such fragility that you have to glance down for a second. It's almost as if she's afraid of breaking you.
╰➤ But then the moment is over. Kai returns, this time with two bags of Doritos in their hands. They throw one at Sevika, and thanks to Sevika’s fast reflexes, it’s caught without a single flinch. 
╰➤ “This should hold us over until Leah clocks out.” Kai sighs. “She wants to go to Famous Dave’s again and I’m kinda in the mood for like, anything other than that. Like I can only eat a certain amount of that stuff before I start suffering from a serious case of heartburn.”
╰➤ Sevika scrunches her nose, popping a chip into her mouth. “Then tell her that.”
╰➤ “I can't,” The whine of Kai’s voice becomes oddly endearing. “You know how she gets.”
╰➤ “Then don’t tell her.”
╰➤ “Or maybe you can tell her. She listens to you.”
╰➤ Sevika rolls her eyes. “No.”
╰➤ “Why not…”
╰➤”Kai, just talk to her. It’s literally not that hard.”
╰➤ “...That’s what she said.”
╰➤ You marvel at the way that Sevika stops mid-chew, gaze still downturned at the red bag in her hand before muttering, “Hilarious.”
╰➤ You try to wipe the growing grin off of your face as you bite the inside of your cheek. Kai glances at you once more, eyes sparkling a gorgeous brown. “Do you want to join us? We’re catching dinner at Famous Dave’s.”
╰➤ Your jaw falls slack, shock hitting you like a ton of bricks. “Oh.” You respond. A breathless laugh leaves you. “Um…”
╰➤ “It’ll just be me, Leah and Vika. Do you know Leah? She’s in accounting. Kinda tall, lanky…socially awkward with bright purple hair?”
 ╰➤ The description doesn't ring any bells for you. “Uh, no. I don't think I’ve seen her around yet.”
╰➤ “Understandable. She works all the way up on the 8th floor.” Kai tilts their head, regarding you with a warmth you aren't used to receiving from anyone in this building besides Sevika and your boss. “Anyways, the offer still stands?”
╰➤ That’s when Sevika glances up at you through her lashes. She doesn’t necessarily crack a smile, but a corner of her lip has curved into something subtle. 
╰➤ “I wish. But I’m working overtime to help Cam with our pitch tomorrow.” You attempt to ignore the way your heart deflates as you say this. 
╰➤”Aw, man.” Kai tosses their empty Dorito bag into a nearby trash can. 
╰➤ "But we should definitely plan something soon.” Before you do anything stupid, like flaking on Cam last minute just to meet up with coworkers for dinner, you urge yourself to bid them goodbye. “I'll catch you guys another time, alright?" 
╰➤ "Nice meeting you!” Kai calls. A short hiss escapes the bottle in their hand as they twist off the cap and tilt their head back. It's a diet coke.
╰➤ "You too!”
╰➤ It's awkward when you slip past them both, proximity dangerously close to Sevika. You find the courage to whisper, “Later Vika,” to her at the last second.
╰➤ Her body stiffens and it almost sounds like she chokes while swallowing another mouthful of her chips. It’s probably the least collected display of behavior you’ve ever witnessed from her. 
╰➤ You stifle a laugh, brushing past her and towards the direction of your office. 
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╰➤ You feel really fucking sad today.
╰➤ Days like today are days that you dread. It isn't a result of anything particular. Of course, you want to be able to blame an event or cause. But the truth of the matter is that you're just having a really bad mental health day.
╰➤ It first starts off with you waking up late. You never wake up late. Your mornings are pretty routine. Some may call them mundane, but routine helps you get through the day easier. So when your alarm doesn't sound and you wake after a bad dream, realizing that it's 30 minutes past the time that your alarm usually rings, your heart sinks.
╰➤ You don't have time for a full breakfast. You have to settle for toast and orange juice instead, slipping on the cleanest pair of jeans and shirt that you can find. When you make it to work, you're just on time. But everything is off.
╰➤ Because instead of your usual business casual attire, you're sporting faded jeans, a blank t shirt and beat up sneakers. Your muscles are still sluggish and your eyelids are heavy. So far, the morning isn't great.
╰➤ As time passes, you realize that you're quite ahead in your work. Cam is off for the day, which means you don't have any extra errands or tasks to do for him. There is truly not much left to accomplish.
╰➤ You settle on the mission of clearing out your voicemail box. But that's soon completed. Your latest emails are nothing of importance and you don't have any upcoming meetings to attend. A cloud of doom hovers over you. By 11 AM, it doubles in size. Once noon hits, it's time for your lunch break and a sorrowful cloud clings onto you like a leech.
╰➤ It's hard to gain a semblance of what to do next. Your heart's true desire calls for your bed and a long restful sleep. Your chest seizes with dull aches and your mind swarms with everything yet nothing at all. This is a familiar feeling that you always hate. It's hard to prevent days like this. It always creeps up on you before you can find the strength to prevent it.
╰➤ You're nearly 30 minutes late to taking your lunch today. You've packed a deli sandwich with grapes, pretzels and a bag of potato chips. But none of it is appealing. And for the first time in months, it's a cold lunch—which you don't usually prefer.
╰➤ Your legs take you to the break room. It's almost empty, with only the buzz of a few coworkers trailing in and out. You sit at one of the tables in the corner, sighing softly and staring down at your lunch.
╰➤ You aren't hungry. Whenever the rare days like today hit you—days when your appetite for life fades—a dwindling appetite for food soon follows. But if you don't eat, then you'll later find yourself crouched in your bed with aching temples, fighting off the pains of a skipped meal. So you open the tupperware container that has a handful of green grapes and take a few bites.
╰➤ There's something about working in an office environment that you enjoy. It's mostly independent-driven, which you prefer. You don't mind the quiet solace that comes along with being in your own office, surrounded by towers of paperwork and due dates. The system of doing the same tasks throughout the day—of working through the same checklists—always leaves you feeling at ease.
╰➤ Even the soft rings of telephones and fingers typing against keys provides you the same comfort that brown noise does for other individuals. Everything about your job is monotonous and ordinary, and therefore absolutely perfect.
╰➤ Your shoulders soon relax as you eavesdrop on a conversation between two coworkers huddled together on the other side of the break room. It's silly workplace gossip about other folks that you don't know, but for the sake of people watching, you allow yourself to become preoccupied with the way they interact with one another.
╰➤ Both of the girls are dressed in fashionable attire, with sleek knee high boots and pencils skirts. Their faces are painted with spotless makeup, nails freshly manicured and eyebrows perfectly arched. Your gaze travels back to your faded old jeans and dirty white New Balance sneakers.
╰➤ Sighing, you tug on the soft hem of your crew neck sweater, which you've thrown on due to the chilly air of the building. That's when a chair beside you squeaks. The legs are dragging against the tile floor due to someone pulling it out and sitting on it.
╰➤ You're met with the familiar features of Sevika. Her hair is pulled back into a perfectly sleek low-bun. There's a slight hint of mascara and eyeliner, barely noticeable if you hadn't already seen her on the days where she's bare faced. She smells of everything good; the walking embodiment of heaven.
╰➤ And she looks just as nice as she smells, with her beige button up and black slacks and matching black dress boots. She looks expensive. She always does.
╰➤ You blink, not only taken aback by her beauty, but also by her sudden presence. Isn't her lunch break supposed to be over by now?
╰➤ "Hi." She greets, which is nothing more than a murmur.
╰➤ Sevika has a very distinct way of communicating. Her lips move so fast that sometimes, you aren't sure if she's truly speaking or if it's all just your overactive imagination. She doesn't talk much, but when she does, it's intentional. You know that every word she does say is meant to be said. And you appreciate that trait about her.
╰➤ She's not the type to raise her voice. Out of all the encounters you've had with her, there's never been a time when she's even gotten remotely close to losing her composure. But a part of you is not sure if composure is the right word. Sevika just seems to be naturally indifferent; mellow. Constantly unbothered. That's what draws you to her. And that's why you feel a dose of comfort shoot through you at that moment. Her presence will probably always be welcomed, no matter what mood you're in.
╰➤ You give her a small smile in return before popping another grape into your mouth.
╰➤ She hovers for a bit. You're not sure what to say, or even if you should say something. 
╰➤ "Not using the microwave today?" She adds.
╰➤ You force out a small chuckle. "No."
╰➤ Silence resumes.
╰➤ Her lashes are quite long.
╰➤ She really is beautiful.
╰➤ You glance away from her, absentmindedly playing with the tattered ends of your sleeves. Your left leg is crossed over your right, rocking back and forth out of habit. There's a moment when it lifts a bit too high, knocking into Sevika's shin.
╰➤ You grimace, "I'm sorry."
╰➤ Out of the corner of your eyes, you pick up on the movement of her broad shoulders shrugging. "It's all good."
╰➤ Your rocking resumes. You make sure to angle your body away from her after that; ensuring that you won't accidentally kick her again.
╰➤ Slowly, you nudge your container of grapes towards her, "Would you like some?"
╰➤ She hesitates, "No." Another pause, then, "It doesn't seem like you've eaten much of your lunch today."
╰➤ "I'm not as hungry as I usually am. It's been a rough day."
╰➤ She positions herself to where her elbows lean against the tabletop. It appears that she's inches closer and the smell of her practically overpowers you because of it. "Is it worth talking about?"
╰➤ You peer up at her, eyes widening when you see the dilation of her pupils. Her hands are clasped together, chin resting on her knuckles and grey eyes regarding you with interest. The squaring of her shoulders causes her muscular biceps to bulge through her beige dress-shirt. It's a gorgeous sight.
╰➤ Your heart stutters.
╰➤ "Um," You blink, trying to concentrate despite the ongoing brain fog. "I'm just sad today, Sevika." You swallow thickly, finding yourself inching a little closer with your chin resting on your own hand. "But there's not a particular reason why. It's ridiculous, to be honest. Simply one of those days, you know?"
╰➤ She shifts towards you.
╰➤ Your foot brushes against her calf.
╰➤ A solemn ease envelopes around the both of you as an expression of understanding trickles onto her features. She nods quietly.
╰➤ There's not much to say, or rather, not much that you want her to say. You're grateful that she doesn't make a huge deal of your admission. Sadness lives in every human throughout their life. Just sitting with her is enough to ease the tide waves of grief that has been rolling through you. At that moment, sitting in the break room with Sevika, your sadness somehow finds a way to transform into still water; a sea of tranquility solely from Sevika's presence.
╰➤ She hooks her foot around the leg of your chair, dragging you closer towards her. Your stomach does somersaults and if you weren't so flustered, you'd probably be brave enough to ask her why she's doing this. But instead, you're left trying to stabilize your heart and trembling fingers. You allow yourself to bask in her closeness.
╰➤ "Your sadness isn't ridiculous," Sevika begins, wetting her dark full lips. Her breath smells of peppermint. Your foot grazes against her calf again, this time for a few seconds longer. "I don't know who or what's made you believe that, but it never will be."
╰➤ The shift in her is abrupt; something powerful enough to cause you to gawk at her. With each passing second, all of your worries slowly begin to unspool and relax, because her words ring with unrelenting truth. You know that she 100% believes everything that she's just said. That's enough for you.
╰➤ "And I don't blame you." Sevika adds. "I mean, this job alone is enough to send anyone into a fucking spiral."
╰➤ You laugh for the first time today. Your palms rest against your cheek and your eyes crinkle shut momentarily. Somehow, she makes laughter on even the most difficult days easy. "Oh, I don't know." You respond, after finally calming down. "This place isn't so bad."
╰➤ "Are you sure?" Her eyebrows raise. "I find that very hard to believe."
╰➤ "Well, there are perks. Like the wattage for the microwave here...It's—what—1500? That's way better than the one in my apartment."
╰➤ She rolls her eyes, but you don't miss the way that they flash with amusement. "Sweetheart, no wonder you're depressed. You've turned to microwave usage as a source of entertainment."
╰➤ A giggle escapes you and you squirm in your seat from her teasing.
╰➤ Sweetheart.
╰➤ The pet name echoes in your ears.
╰➤ "There's not much else to be entertained by. The wallpapers here are quite dreadful."
╰➤ She grins, glancing at the wall behind you. "Oddly obsessed with microwaves and picky about interior design. Noted."
╰➤ Your nose scrunches as you fight off another smile, sighing melodramatically.
╰➤ Sevika looks as if she's going to speak again. But then her phone vibrates against the tabletop quietly. She grabs it, peering at the screen before exhaling. "That's my cue." She says with a reticent expression. "My lunch break is up."
╰➤ You feel yourself deflating but you do your best to cover it up, nodding instead. "I should be getting back too."
╰➤ You both stand up, the lingering tension in the atmosphere snapping like an elastic band. Sevika spares you one more look, pocketing her phone and stretching her arms. Her smile is small but the effects of it leaves you feeling disembodied.
╰➤ "See you around, sweetheart." 
╰➤ Then she leaves.
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╰➤ You stare at the door in front of you, trying to gain the courage to knock on it.
╰➤ This is ridiculous, really.
╰➤ You're ridiculous.
╰➤ Your palms are sweaty and your heart is beating entirely too fast. You want to turn around and walk back to your own office. You want to forget about ever doing this, or being delusional enough to think that this was a good idea.
╰➤ But you've already gone through the trouble and effort of preparing everything...
╰➤ Plus, numerous coworkers have witnessed you standing in front of this door for quite some time now. Turning around and walking away without even knocking would not only be embarrassing, but also probably attract some negative attention.
╰➤ Sucking in a breath, you raise your free hand, knock three times, then exhale.
╰➤ One second passes and you instantly regret it.
╰➤ You shouldn't have done this.
╰➤ You're sure numerous minutes pass before the door finally swings open—at least it feels that way. Round brown eyes greet you and your heart skips a few beats.
╰➤ You definitely should have thought this through a little more.
╰➤ "Oh, Kai." You breathe. "Hi."
╰➤ “Hey!” Surprise filters onto their features. "What are you doing here? Have you been standing out here for long? Sev—uh, you have…” They disappear behind the door, whispering something indiscreetly. 
╰➤ "I was just stopping by." You shift your weight, growing uneasy. You try to glance past them but it's hard to see considering you're several inches shorter than them. "F-For um, well... I was hoping to speak to Sevika."
╰➤ Kai appears in front of you again, smirking impishly. “...Any minute now, Vika. It’s not like you have someone waiting out here for you or anything.”
╰➤ You swallow. Inconspicuously, you glance around you, hoping that no one is eavesdropping from their cubicles. "I was wanting to give her something. I'm sorry that I interrupted." You rub your palm against your forehead, not knowing where to go from here. "Honestly, it can wait. It's not urgent or anything. It's just a gift. I know we don't usually stop by each other's offices like this so I'm sorry for showing up unexpectedly. I just thought...I don't know. I can come back? Yeah, I'll just come back another time-"
╰➤ "That's not necessary." Sevika appears over the shoulder of Kai. Your chin tilts up in order to meet her gaze, and you take a few steps backwards, clasping your hands behind you. "You weren't interrupting anything." The handsome woman muses, brows raised. You marvel at the way that her eyes glaze over you, up and down, before settling on your face again.
╰➤ Nodding, you allow your attention to flicker to Kai, who is now standing in between the both of you with raised eyebrows. The awkwardness of it all makes you clear your throat, shuffling your feet and wishing you had thought of a better way to do this. Maybe you should haves waited until you saw Sevika again in the break room.
╰➤ "I’ll catch you guys later, okay?” Kai chirps, barely glancing at Sevika as they pocket their phone. They’re practically beaming at the both of you when they step past the door threshold. Then, they disappear behind the rows of cubicles.
╰➤ Your mind reels at everything that's just happened. You struggle to fully understand why the temperature of the central AC suddenly feels like a searing heat wave. 
╰➤ When you peek over at Sevika, you find that she's already observing you. Her two front teeth sink into the plump flesh of her lower lip, eyes a darker shade of grey and swarming with undeniable heed. You can't help but admire her lips and how they appear to be perfectly crafted. They look softer than a billow of feathers, and you desperately want to touch them—want to feel them—and want to allow them to sweep you up into another world.
╰➤ That hunger inside of you grows, a specific feeling that she's only been able to bring out lately, and you know that no one can ever satiate such a desire but her.
╰➤ God.
╰➤ You've got it bad.
╰➤ She releases her lip and you become enamored with the way her throat jostles as she swallows. Painfully aware of your obvious staring, you force your attention back to her eyes.
╰➤ "I've got something for you," You say. Your voice is unfamiliar to your ears—huskier.
╰➤ Silently, she gestures for you to come in. You step forward and close the door behind you.
╰➤ Sevika's office is similar to yours. The desk and chair are quite the same, along with the filing cabinets and additional chairs for guests. But she also has a dark purple rug, with numerous framed pictures and a mini fridge shoved in the corner.
╰➤ A pair of dark purple curtains are drawn, allowing the sunlight to creep in, and more picture frames line the windowsill.
╰➤ Before you allow yourself to get too swept up with your surroundings, you turn to her and pull your left hand out from behind you, which holds a card. It's a simple blank one that you bought at the store and it has the words thank you written with one of your favorite sparkly ink pens, along with your signed name and lip print stained by your favorite lipstick shade. Above the personalized message are a few pairs of pressed tulips.
╰➤ "I just wanted to express my gratitude." You explain. She takes the card, staring down at it silently. "I was feeling a bit down the other day and you helped me by keeping me company. It may sound silly because it was just a simple conversation but," You shrug. "Conversation goes a long way sometimes. Especially for those that need it."
╰➤ Her thumb traces over one of the petals, lips parting and eyes widening. It's hard to know exactly what she's thinking and a part of you believes that maybe you've overstepped—that you've crossed an unspoken boundary. Her ongoing silence causes an unexpected panic to stir within you.
╰➤ Desperate to clean up a situation that you fear will go haywire, you open your mouth to say, "These are from a small garden that I’ve been trying to grow." Your forefinger hovers above her thumb, gesturing towards the flowers. "I pressed them myself, so that they won't die on you." You lick your lips, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. Oh god. Why does she look like that? Why isn't she saying anything? This can't be good. "And I...well, now that I'm thinking about this, I'm realizing that this may be coming off as weird. I'm sorry. If I've made you like...uncomfy or anything, I totally understand and I'm sorry. My intention wasn't to make things weird."
╰➤ Her head raises at that, expression completely unguarded. It's rare when you're able to see unfiltered emotions flitting across her features. Sevika isn't the type to walk around with her heart on her sleeve. But with the way that she's looking at you, you realize that there's something unbelievably tender about her gaze.
╰➤ "And you'll probably tease me for this," You continue. You curse yourself for sounding breathless. Tearing your eyes away from her, you point at the card again. "But I used my microwave to press the flowers. Only because the other methods would have taken too long."
╰➤ That's when she laughs.
╰➤ You exhale softly from her hearty chuckles, relief immediately enveloping you.
╰➤ Laughter is a good sign.
╰➤ "I should have maybe waited to give you the card. I just didn't want to anticipate your reaction until noon, if I'm being honest." You wring out your hands, not able to shake the nervous jitters running through you. "I hope you like it."
╰➤ She runs her thumb over the material once more, lips rolling inwards before she rubs them together, deep in thought. You impatiently wait for a sign, any sign, that indicates her feelings towards your gesture.
╰➤ Her eyes, set deep above the plane of her cheekbones, slant as they peer downward towards the cardboard in her hand. She inhales through her nose, relaxes her lips, then exhales.
╰➤ "You didn't have to do this," She finally replies. "But of course I like it." She doesn't smile. However, you do notice a new light in her expression when she refocuses her attention on you. "Also, you apologize a lot." She pauses before adding, "...More than you need to. You haven't done anything weird at all."
╰➤ You want to bury your face in a pillow and squeal. But you settle for a smile instead. "Oh."
╰➤ Her lips crack into a knowing grin before she turns on her heel and walks over to her desk. She delicately positions the card so that it's standing upright next to a picture of her and a skinny brunette man. "The card is beautiful." She observes. Despite the natural raspiness of her voice, it has a warmer lilt to it now. "Thank you."
╰➤ You determine that Sevika thanking you is a new favorite. You want to shower her with endless gestures if it means that she'll continue to show fondness towards you.
╰➤ She leans against her desk, halfway sitting on the top surface, before shoving her hands in her pockets. Through the material of her slacks, you notice that they seem to be balled into fists.
╰➤You shift your weight as a strong sense of pride swells in your chest, opting to rest your shoulder against the door frame.
╰➤Only—you remember too late that nothing is actually beside you, and that the door frame is several paces behind you. Instead, you stumble when you realize that there's nothing close enough to catch your weight.
╰➤ Your arms sprout out in an attempt to catch your balance.
╰➤ "Um," You mumble dumbly, flustered by the mess that you've become. "...Thought there was a wall beside me." You clear your throat, attempting to right yourself again. 
╰➤ Sevika stares at you, eyes dancing with merriment, as she struggles to swallow her chuckles. She forces out a few coughs, trying to cover up her mirth, but it's clear that she finds your lack of coordination entertaining.
╰➤ You rest your hands on your hips in an attempt to find a comfortable standing position. You want to cringe. You want to crawl under a rock and never be perceived again.
╰➤ You puff out your cheeks before blowing out a heavy exhale. The room feels really hot and your heart is doing backflips in your chest. You can't tell if it's because of your stupid schoolgirl crush or the embarrassment of nearly eating shit in front of Sevika.
╰➤ Probably a combination of both...
╰➤ "Gravity really hates me." You jest.
╰➤ Her grin widens. "I can tell."
╰➤ You let out an exasperated chuckle, palm reaching up to rub against your forehead. She has to be aware of her effect on you.
╰➤ Like it's just painfully obvious at this point.
╰➤ Right?
╰➤ Your lips part and your hands pool with more sweat and you feel like the biggest lovesick loser to ever exist. There she is, with her perfect face and perfect laugh and perfect everything. You've barely talked to this woman outside of lunch breaks yet here you are, giving her pressed fucking flowers and worshiping the ground she walks on just because she sat with you for a few minutes. There can't be any other way that you can become more obvious.
╰➤ Your hands are flailing ridiculously around you, towards her plush purple carpet and curtains and picture frames before you're saying, "Nice office by the way."
╰➤ And she's looking at you with that knowing expression that's borderline condescending, which you really love despite how much you want to hate it, when she replies, "Thanks, darling."
╰➤ You blink rapidly and try not to combust right then.
╰➤ Your feet carry you to a nearby bookshelf before you can think otherwise. A shitload of CD’s are neatly stacked on them with names of artists you didn't know anyone still listened to. You preoccupy yourself with shifting through them, trying your best to ignore the zoo erupting in your stomach. There’s collections of Nina Simone and Freddie Hubbard and Bill Withers. Your eyebrows raise at the eclectic catalogue, not bothering to swallow the surprise that sprouts within you. It should be known at this point that Sevika will never fail to surprise you.
╰➤ Your hands tremble as they hold an ABBA CD. They cling tighter to the plastic case, attempting to make the shaking less noticeable. Something warm brushes against your shoulder, before taking the CD from you. You peer at Sevika, observing the way that she wordlessly takes out the disc and moves to a CD player that is situated farther to your left. 
╰➤ Despite her being concentrated on getting the speaker system to work, you’re totally enraptured by her. Her smell surrounds you like a cloud of ecstasy. Her hair is down today, a feathery cut that stops just below her jaw. Loose ends are tucked behind her ear, highlighting the rarest features of her face that you probably have overlooked before. Her lips purse together while she deeply concentrates, puffing out in a way that makes them look unbelievably inviting. Your breath catches, a prominent ache building between your thighs as the room fills with the beginning chords of The Winner Takes It All.
╰➤ She hums underneath her breath as the first verse begins, neatly placing the CD on top of the player. Slowly, her eyes drag back to you, unfocused and clearly lost in the music that fills the room. But then she freezes, seemingly not expecting you to already be observing her. The harmonies of the song contrast to the moment of stillness then; a corded tension falling between the two of you. 
╰➤ The feelings you have in that moment are visceral. Your head is spinning and your heart is racing. No matter how hard you swallow, your throat remains dry and your skin yearns for her—for her touch and her warmth and her firmness. 
╰➤ Your eyes burn and you have to blink rapidly in order to clear your vision. You can't understand why these feelings have hit you so suddenly, and why they're so intense for a woman that's only your coworker. But you try not to scold yourself too much, rubbing your palms against the material of your skirt instead.
╰➤ “What’s wrong?” She whispers, scanning your face.
╰➤ And that's when you realize how close you're standing to her. Maybe you were the one to step forward—or was it her?—and shorten the distance, but you can't know for sure. You should pull away. You should bid her a good day and return to your office (you'll have to be on the clock soon anyways) but you can't.
╰➤ You can't because it's too late. She’s already roped you in with her aloofness and cheshire grin and warm sultry voice. The window to escape has already passed. You're simply in too deep now.
╰➤ “You're just really fucking beautiful.” You blurt out. 
╰➤ When Sevika registers what you've said, it seems like she stiffens in shock. Her lips part, a sharp breath being sucked in while her stare intensifies. 
╰➤ You don't have enough wits to properly downplay your words or try to retract what you've said. The most you try to do is blink away the tears in your welling eyes and say, “I’m sorry.”
╰➤ You take a step back, then two. The reality of the situation hits you like a brick wall. You let out a heavy exhale, trying to calm the storm beginning to brew in your mind.
╰➤ Holy fuck.
╰➤ What if you’ve made her uncomfortable? You've clearly crossed a line. You're at work. In fifteen minutes, you’ll both be on the clock and trying to get your day started. This is inappropriate. 
╰➤ You feel like employees from the Human Resources department will barge right in at any moment, confronting you about your intentions and hauling you off to be questioned. Guilt rumbles in you like an unrelenting river breaking through a dam.  
╰➤ Sevika is shaking her head, eyes searching yours with growing alarm. “Sorry? Sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry fo-”
╰➤ “...with the flowers and the card and calling you beautiful. I shouldn't be doing those things and saying stuff like that. I mean, not because I don't think you're beautiful. You're so beautiful. It's just... Oh lord—I’m doing it again. Fuck. Frick. Uh,” You gulp, taking a few more steps backwards. “I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. I'm totally aware that we’re coworkers. And I don't wanna be that one creep in the office who-”
╰➤ “No, it's okay.” She shakes her head again, a small smile appearing on her face. “You haven't weirded me out at all.”
╰➤ You stop mid rant, mouth hanging open and eyes trailing back to her. “Are you sure?”
╰➤ “Completely sure.” 
╰➤ Your attention hooks onto the details of her laugh lines. They become more prevalent as her smile widens. You want to brush your lips against hers and feel the curve of her laugh lines against your skin. 
╰➤ You fight the urge, responding with, “Okay,” instead. 
╰➤ She hums quietly underneath her breath, arms folding against her chest. 
╰➤ “Okay,” She echoes. Her weight rocks backwards, a slight sway that causes her hair to brush lightly against her jawline. You're captivated by the sharp edge of her jaw—and how it seems to become even sharper with each passing second—as she momentarily clenches it. 
╰➤ She’s opening her mouth to say something else when there's a knock on the door. “Sevika?” The silhouette of a woman, probably a coworker, shines through the frosted-glass door. Reality slams into you like a semi truck.
╰➤ Your heart jumps at the interruption. For some reason, you take a few more steps away from Sevika and your muscles tense.
╰➤ There's a hesitation that looms in the air. 
╰➤ Sevika's eyes hold something undefinable. Her gaze is level and full of intent. And you can't understand why everything feels so convoluted right now.
╰➤ After a few agonizing seconds of silence, she sighs, shoulders falling as she shifts her attention to the ground. “Come in.” 
╰➤ The door opens and a pretty brunette with glossy lips and mascara-coated eyes walks in. You've seen her numerous times throughout the day. She's one of the receptionists. 
╰➤ She smiles at you and you're surprised when she greets you. You’ve never realized she knows your name. 
╰➤ “Tara,” Sevika addresses. “What's up?”
╰➤ The receptionist turns to her, “I was trying to call you but it was going to voicemail. I wasn't sure if you’ve turned on your phone for the day? I’m really sorry for interrupting. But you have a gentleman waiting for you in the lobby, he says he has an 8 o’clock with you? I just wanted to confirm.” She clears her throat, shifting her weight awkwardly. Then she’s eying you again with a small smile. “I’m sorry—”
╰➤ “No, no. You're totally fine.” Sevika’s features morph into an expression that's more genial. “Did you catch his name? I do think I have an 8 o’clock, I just lost track of time.” She’s making her way over to the CD player, swiftly cutting it off. The music stops and the air stills.
╰➤ Hair stands on your skin as she walks to her desk, fiddling with a few buttons on her landline. 
╰➤ “Yes,” Tara replies, glancing down at a yellow sticky note. “He’s from the branch in Chicago. He goes by…”
╰➤ “I’ll catch you later, Sevika.”Your voice is rushed and barely above a whisper. The feeling of overstaying your welcome floods you.
╰➤ Sevika glances up under her lashes, hands faltering from the paperwork she's rummaging through. You don't give her a chance to reply, simply shooting her a smile and wave before slipping out of her office. 
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╰➤  You sigh at the sign in front of you, bold words reading, BROKEN! PLEASE USE ANOTHER ONE on a piece of paper attached to the microwave. A low groan burns in the back of your throat. You’re starving. In fact, it’s been forever since you’ve let yourself grow this hungry.
╰➤ You didn't eat breakfast this morning. You were too preoccupied with thinking about Sevika’s gift, and how the hell were you going to give her a card with pressed flowers in a non-creepy way. But the task has been done, and for the most part, Sevika didn’t appear turned off by your gesture. So now, you are hungry. 
╰➤  Your stomach growls and your mouth pools with saliva. Spinning on your heels, you march out of the break room, trying to think of any other parts of the building that has microwaves. Your floor definitely doesn’t, which means you would have to take the elevator. And you don’t want to do that, especially if it means having to walk through another department. 
╰➤  Your mind is swarming with what ifs and maybe’s as you travel through rows of cubicles. The possibility of finding an unoccupied microwave is slim to none. If the one on your floor has been broken all morning, then there’s surely a growing line at the other ones. Dread gnaws at you and you huff with distaste. 
╰➤  There’s a part of you that considers eating your food cold. But your nose wrinkles at the idea and it’s quickly disregarded. 
╰➤  When you reach the elevator, you're met with the sight of Sevika leaning against the adjacent wall. She is lazily scrolling on her phone, her other hand occupying her pocket, and her cross body bag hanging off of one of her shoulders. Similar to the sudden dip of a rollercoaster ride—visceral and unexpected—a warmth spreads within you. Your head feels light–weightless even–and you can feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. 
╰➤ Your arm lifts and presses the button that summons the elevator. It’s a silly action, since you’re sure Sevika has already pressed it if she’s waiting for it to arrive. But you need something to do with your body; something that can expel some of the excess energy and calm your belly acrobatics. 
╰➤ Your movement seems to catch Sevika’s attention, causing her scrolling to momentarily freeze as she glances up.
╰➤  Your gazes lock and your breath hitches and you’re pretty sure you begin to hear fireworks sounding in the distance. She smiles and you return the gesture. Or was it you that smiled first? 
╰➤  “Hi,” You say.
╰➤  Her attention trails to the lower half of your face, lingering there for a few moments before climbing back up to your eyes. In a millisecond, she’s pushing off of the wall, body upright and phone slipping into her pocket. “Hey, you.” Her grin curves even more.  
╰➤ You don’t know what’s making you feel so lovesick: the inviting cadence of her voice or the fact that she’s practically glowing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen any blemish on her face besides a few faded scars. Seriously–what kind of skin care routine did the robust woman have? You made a mental note to ask her. 
╰➤ “The weather’s been nice today.” She adds.
╰➤ You fight off a chuckle, nodding in response. The conversation is elementary and completely like all the other ones that you’ve had with her countless times before. But you enjoy how mundane your chats are with Sevika. It isn’t really the topics that interest you rather than the calming consistency of her presence. The both of you could be counting the wall tiles to pass time for all you care. 
╰➤ Sevika cards her fingers through her hair as she rolls her eyes at a corny dad joke you’ve just told. “Clever.” She quietly muses, husky voice thick with sarcasm. Her lips are fighting off a smirk though, so you know she isn’t as annoyed as she’s trying to seem. 
╰➤ “Thanks.” 
╰➤ When Sevika centers her weight, she peers at the carpet, causing a singular strand of hair to fall in front of her forehead. A small part of you wants to reach out and run your fingers through it, but you softly shake your head to refocus. You listen to the faint rings of telephones in the distance instead.
╰➤“Well,” You drag out, growing uncomfortable by the silence. “Did you have a good weekend?”
╰➤She lifts her head, nodding softly. “Yeah.” A slight pause. “I went to dinner with some friends on Saturday, and then we watched the superbowl on Sunday…Made a day out of it, really…” She clears her throat. “Yeah. It was nice… What about you?”
╰➤ You don’t register the swaying of your body until your shoulder brushes against her bicep. “It was okay, I guess. I finished a novel. Went grocery shopping…did some gardening.” You wrinkle your nose, embarrassment washing over you. “Probably not as fun or eventful as yours, I suppose.”
╰➤ “Ah,” She chuckles. Her bicep brushes against your shoulder again. You can’t decipher if it was her fault or yours this time. “I doubt that.”
╰➤ You offer a thoughtful hum, but keep quiet otherwise.
╰➤ The elevator sounds with a soft ding! All too soon, Sevika is encouraging you to step on board before her. 
╰➤ “Hi Shane,” You say, smiling at the coworker that is already inside of the service lift. He barely regards you, lips frowning and worry lines prevalent on his forehead. He takes off his baseball cap momentarily, revealing a receding hairline glistening with sweat, before wiping it off with the back of his hand and repositioning the cap.
╰➤ “Hi.” The middle aged man grumbles. He nearly throws a fit when Sevika takes her time walking through the elevator doors. His face is firetruck red, left foot tapping impatiently as his finger presses the button for the 8th floor. 
╰➤ Your eyebrows shoot up and you look at Sevika. She observes the entire situation with passive amusement. 
╰➤ “Stupid elevators.” Shane grumbles. 
╰➤ You press your lips together, trying your best to refrain from laughing while reaching around him to press the button for the 6th floor. Usually, there’s a few microwaves on that one. “Where to?” You angle your head towards Sevika.
╰➤ “6th floor as well.”
╰➤ The atmosphere fills with the trademark grinding of the elevator and Shane’s disgruntled mumbling. The minutes tick by agonizingly slow and you even feel bad for giggling quietly when Shane huffs again, looking up at the ceiling with a grinding jaw. 
╰➤ Your fingers press against your lips in an attempt to remain calm, and your eyes flit over to Sevika knowingly. 
╰➤ Shane’s always been pegged as overly anxious and impatient in the office. He seems to be perpetually unhappy with everyone and everything. He seems to just be unhappy in general.
╰➤ A few levels down, the doors open and relief fills you. Riding the elevator with a fretful Shane definitely wasn’t on the top of today’s To-Do list. But then you falter at the sight of a plain concrete wall in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow and you glance back at the row of buttons. The number 6 is no longer illuminated, but you certainly aren’t facing the cubicles on the 6th floor right now. 
╰➤ "Shit…" Sevika mumbles. “This isn’t good.” 
╰➤ “Oh, come on!” The elevator shakes slightly in response to Shane obnoxiously stomping his foot. 
╰➤ Your breath hitches and you feel your arms searching frantically, trying to grab onto something to ground you, but only finding empty air. 
╰➤  Sevika’s already scanning the surroundings, probably for an emergency call box. You don’t say anything. You’re not sure if you can. 
╰➤ Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.
╰➤ “I can’t believe this!” Shane’s voice is several pitches higher now. “I’m going to miss my appointment. Dammit!” He stomps his foot again, snatching his cap off. It falls to the ground and his hands tightly grip his hair–or, what’s left of it.
╰➤Sevika’s head snaps in the general direction of his. “Let’s not do that.” Her voice is icy. It comes off as a command instead of a suggestion and even you find yourself trying to gain your bearings. 
╰➤ Shane sends her a glare but he makes sure to keep his foot planted and his mouth shut. 
╰➤ Your eyes are burning and you're beginning to find it hard to breathe. 
╰➤ You’re stuck.
╰➤ The elevator is fucking stuck. 
╰➤ No–you can’t freak out. That won’t help. 
╰➤ Your hands are bunching against the material of your clothing, feet working into nervous tapping. Oh God.
╰➤ Oh God.
╰➤ Sevika finally finds a button next to an icon with the emergency bell symbol, which doesn’t seem to be immediately obvious at first glance. The noise is loud and jarring when she presses it, before an automated voice begins to speak words that you can’t fully register. 
╰➤ And then she’s talking with an operator, that much you can process, but it’s all blurring together too much for your liking.
╰➤ Shane is breathing loud. Annoyingly loud in fact. 
╰➤ You want to tell him to shut the hell up, especially when he starts crying, but you can barely see through your blurred vision and it doesn’t seem like your body will listen to your brain even if you will it to.
╰➤ Then there’s warm hands pressing into your shoulders, squeezing them, before lowering to your elbows. 
╰➤ “It’s okay,” Sevika reassures. “I just talked to the operator. They’re going to try to reset the system.” 
╰➤ You shake your head and grip onto her shirt. “We're going to die.”
╰➤ “Hey,” Her breath fans against your cheeks as she ducks down to look at you levelly. Her touch retracks before you feel warmness on your face. Her thumbs are swiping your skin. “Sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay.” 
╰➤  That’s when you realize that you’re the one who’s breathing heavy, because you’re also the one who’s crying. Her thumbs are wiping away your tears.
╰➤ “Sev…” You respond, breath ragged. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared, I-”
╰➤ “It’s an honest human reaction.” Her lips brush against your left earlobe as she pulls you in for a hug. “...Better than stomping your foot and shaking the entire cabin, that’s for sure.” 
╰➤ You let out an ugly combination of a sob and laugh.
╰➤ “Not funny, you asshole.” Shane isn’t too happy with the jest.
╰➤ “Hey!” You find yourself objecting. You lift your head but know it’s no use. Sevika’s too tall for you to be able to see over her. “Be nice, you two.” 
╰➤ Shane grumbles a few other curse words, this time much quieter. Sevika tightens her hold around your waist, nose rubbing into your shoulder with an odd tenderness, but she doesn’t say anything else.
╰➤ You’re sniffling as you try to relax in her hold. You’ve given up the task of restarting your heart because you know that you’ll never be able to truly calm down until you’re safely out of this elevator. But for the meantime, you try to distract yourself with the smell of Sevika, and the feeling of her pressed against you. You cling onto her like a raft in the middle of a storm, praying that she can continue to keep your worries at bay.
╰➤ “Sev,” You say again, voice shaking. “I’m really scared.”
╰➤ “I know.” 
╰➤ The elevator slips down a considerable amount, causing the both of you to lose your footing and nearly fall. Your scream melts into a gurgle of cries as Sevika curses lowly.
╰➤ She lowers the both of you to the floor, hands attempting to steady you. The panic you feel is definitely taking over now. 
╰➤ “We’re going to die.” You hiccup, eyes widening. 
╰➤ “Darling,” Sevika pauses. You almost believe that she’s trying to gather more patience, and you can’t blame her if she is. But the pause is too brief for you to know for sure. “We aren’t going to die. Hey–”
╰➤ Her fingers are gingerly pinching your chin, urging you to meet her gaze. An air of passivity rolls off of her. “Can you breathe with me? You’re hyperventilating.” Her brows begin to furrow. “I can’t have you passing out on me, you know.”
╰➤ “We won't make it out of here.”
╰➤ Her lips fix into a thin line, “Do you trust me?”
╰➤ Your reply is immediate, “Yes.”
╰➤ “Can you trust that I will make sure you get out of here safely?” Her palms begin to press against the sides of your face, holding you close to her. She strokes the apples of your cheek with her thumbs, expression pensive. “I've got you. I…” She wets her lips, eyes flickering with an odd light. “I promise.”
╰➤ A few stray tears escape your eyes, rolling down your face and onto her palms. You inhale a long shuddering breath as you nod, mouth souring everytime you think of your current predicament.
╰➤ “Okay.” You rasp. 
╰➤ The both of you are a breath apart, huddled in one of the corners. That's when you realize that you're actually sitting in her lap. 
╰➤ “I just can't believe I’m stuck here simply because I was wanting to use the 6th floor microwave.” Your eyes flicker shut, another wave of doom hitting you. “I just wanted some lasagna!”
╰➤ Sevika laughs. “If only you took the stairs.”
╰➤ “I know, right? I don't usually because I'm lazy, but maybe-”
╰➤ “I get that this is an emotional moment right now,” Shane grunts. “But does anyone have a bottle or something? I really need to piss.”
╰➤ Your nose crinkles. Ew.
╰➤ Sevika grinds her jaw. “You will keep your pants on, or so help me God…”
╰➤ “Okay, okay. I got it.”
╰➤ You clear your throat, shifting in her lap and glancing at Shane. He has his left leg crossed over his right, legs tense and face seemingly straining with concentrated effort. A vein is bulging out of his neck and sweat is gathering around his forehead again.
╰➤ “Tell me another one of your lame jokes.” Sevika whispers, completely disregarding him and squeezing you closer to her.
╰➤ The shift in conversation feels like emotional whiplash. 
╰➤ Everything about today has been weird. You never thought a day would come where you're actually sitting in her lap, and being comforted in the most gentle way.
╰➤ But then again, you never anticipated getting stuck in an elevator with her so…
╰➤ “They are not lame.” You refute, feigning offense. “They're dad jokes.”
╰➤ “Okay, well...” Her attention zeroes in on your nose. One of her hands raises, brushing at it before inspecting a small fuzzy and flicking it away. “Tell me one of them.”
╰➤ Your blink in thought, scanning your brain for one that you haven't told her yet. It's starting to become hard to decipher which jokes you have and haven't shared with Sevika, especially as the months continue to carry on. You fear that you'll run out of them sooner than you’d like to (at least the funny ones) and then you won't know how else to entertain her. 
╰➤ “What do you call a fake noodle?”
╰➤ Her forehead scrunches as she ponders on a possible answer. 
╰➤ A slow smile curves at your lips while you mutter, “An impasta.”
╰➤ You can practically see the gears in her brain shifting before she registers the pun. Her lips are puffy from constantly being chewed on when they pull into a playful scowl. The tiniest wrinkles appear along the slope of her nose as she scrunches it, eyes peering at you through narrowed slits.
╰➤ “You're ridiculous.”
╰➤ That causes you to laugh, heart warming at the slight annoyance in her voice.  “Ridiculously funny and charming? Sure.”
╰➤ “...Oh my god.”
╰➤ “You love my jokes, just admit it.”
╰➤ “Sweetheart…They're not actually yours. I know you google them.”
╰➤ “ It's my delivery though. No one delivers jokes better than I do. It takes actual skill.”
╰➤ “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
╰➤ “...There's the timing you have to consider and the vocal inflection.” Your hands fall down her arms, resting in your lap as they tug on one another. “It involves real artistry.”
╰➤ “How dumb of me to think otherwi-”
╰➤ “Oh, thank you! God! Thank you!”
╰➤ You jump at Shane’s outburst, examining the way he stands to his feet, a grin breaking across his face. He’s pointing at the elevator doors, which are now closing. A low hum fills the air. Soon after, the sound of cogs becomes louder and the elevator begins moving.
╰➤ You and Sevika startle at the sudden shift, moment now broken. When you peer at her, she's smiling softly, grey irises drinking in every one of your features. 
╰➤”I told you we’d be okay.” She says.
╰➤You're too relieved to properly respond, allowing her to help you stand up instead. 
╰➤ The intercom beeps and a voice says, "Rescue team here. Please remind us how many people are there with you?"
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╰➤ “If you feel any sort of stress from today, please don't hesitate to use this number.” Cam says as he shoves a business card into your hand.
╰➤ You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. I swear.”
╰➤ “There's no shame in using the services, I promise. Just input your employee number and the company code on the website and it’ll—”
╰➤ “Cam,” Your left hand reaches up to squeeze his shoulder. You make sure to hold his gaze. “I’m totally fine now, I promise. I’ll admit that it shook me up a little, because it felt like we were going to be stuck in there forever. But everything's okay.”
╰➤ He scans your face, searching for any sign that you're being untruthful. When he doesn't find any, he nods smally. “Go home.” His stare becomes stern. “Take it easy for the next few days.”
╰➤ “Cam—”
╰➤ “I’m serious! If you go back to your office for the rest of the day, I’ll take a deduction from your wages.”
╰➤ You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t sound legal.”
╰➤ “I’m sorry, I can't hear you anymore.” He shrugs his shoulders, pacing a few steps backwards. “I have meetings to attend now.” He doesn't allow you to object, adding, “Have a good weekend, kid,” before turning around and leaving the room.
╰➤ It hasn't been long since you’ve been rescued from the elevator—maybe 30 minutes, at most. Cam made his way over to the three of you once he received notice of everything. You feel relatively fine. The medics accessed you first, since you seemed to be the most shaken up when they arrived. And ever since they finished, Cam has somehow convinced himself that you, Shane and Sevika should take the rest of the day off.
╰➤ He also seemed adamant about offering you the free therapy services that your company provides, hence the business card in your hand. But you feel like it might be a desperate gesture to cover his ass. Surely, this isn't the first time that someone's been stuck in the elevator while on the clock.
╰➤ The medic team seems to just be finishing their assessment with Sevika and Shane now. You stand off to the side, watching helplessly, as Sevika sits in a chair and chats casually with a buff paramedic woman. 
╰➤ The three of you were momentarily moved to a nearby conference room when rescued from the elevator. One of the office supervisors said it was to give you all a space to “wind down and decompress.” But you're pretty sure it's because the company is trying to gloss over the elevator incident. 
╰➤ The door to the conference room opens and you're met with the familiar face of Kai. Their eyes are wide—frantic—as they scan the area. 
╰➤ “Dude,”  They gasp, attention on Sevika. “You won't believe the stuff that's circulating the office right now…it's some crazy shit!”
╰➤ Then they’re grabbing one of the chairs closest to Sevika, plopping down in it. “Are you guys okay? Seriously, what the fuck happened?”
╰➤ “We were stuck in that stupid contraption.” Shane butts in. “We could have died and they only care about giving us PTO and a stupid link to telehealth.”
╰➤ It's the first time you've heard him talk since stepping off of the elevator. 
╰➤ “I missed my damn appointment and the fee I’ll get charged is ridiculous,” He slams his hand on the table, fingers spreading out against the surface and jaw grinding. “I’m gonna sue these motherfuckers.”
╰➤ Surrounding medics have been slowly packing up their equipment, but they momentarily freeze at the sound of Shane's threat. The one closest to Sevika lifts an eyebrow, expression bemused as she pockets her phone. 
╰➤ “I’m not sure if you can do that, Shane.” Kai quirks. Their eyes dance with humor as they swallow a chuckle.
╰➤ “I’m 62. I can do whatever the hell I want!”
╰➤ Kai nods, slightly taken aback. “Touché.”
╰➤ Shane grumbles under his breath, standing to his feet with the help of a nearby medic. He’s slightly hunched over, gripping the lower part of his back while he hobbles to the entrance door.
╰➤ “Bye Shane!” You call.
╰➤ He waves you off irritably, not bothering to turn around and give you a proper farewell.
╰➤ “And they said you fainted when the rescue team came,” Kai turns to you, expression morphing into something kinder. You think you see their eyes travel to Sevika for a split second, but you conclude that it’s just your overactive imagination. “How are you feeling now?”
╰➤ You laugh incredulously, “Do people just live to gossip here? That was barely an hour ago.”
 ╰➤ “It's not like there's much else to do around these parts,” Kai grins wickedly. “Besides the scandalous office romances that people chat about. But that's old news. This is the most exciting thing we’ve had since Christmas!”
╰➤ You laugh harder, hands coming up to rest against your cheeks as you work through your shock. “That's one way to put it.”
╰➤ The three of you are alone now since the last two medics managed to slip out of the room inconspicuously. And now it's harder to escape the overwhelming fatigue that looms in the air. Secretly, you thank Cam for giving you the rest of the day off.
╰➤ “I have to get back soon. I’m supposed to be meeting the Amazon delivery driver in t minus one minute.” 
╰➤ “Oh my god,” Sevika rumbles, shoving her friend out of their seat. “Go do your job.”
╰➤ “Yes ma’am.” Kai wipes their hands on their jeans, leaning down and kissing Sevika on the cheek before ruffling her hair. “I’m glad you didn't like, die or anything, loser.”
╰➤ Sevika merely grunts.
╰➤ Kai winks at you, “Bye lovebirds!”
╰➤ And then there were two. 
╰➤ You carefully pivot to face the herculean woman a few feet away from you. The crease between her brows, even though heavily prevalent when Kai was here many seconds ago, are now gone. She stares at you for a beat, lower lip caught between her teeth and hands drumming against the muscles of her thighs. 
╰➤ “Sorry about Kai. They're a bit childish sometimes.” Sevika mutters. But despite her words, you can tell she thinks fondly of Kai. 
╰➤ “I like them.” You find yourself admitting. “They’re funny.”
╰➤ “They’re annoying.”
╰➤ Her lips twitch into the smallest hint of a grin. Your own smile grows and subsequently, her eyelids flutter. In the midst of today's chaos and fading professionalism, the heart of something tender passes between the both of you. The air cracks and sparks fly. It's fleeting—but it's there.
╰➤ Her throat jostles as she swallows, “How are you feeling?” 
╰➤ There's an unmistakable burn within you that her question creates. “I’m better than before.” 
╰➤ Her eyes trail down your body, then back up to your face. You assume that it's a mistake. But then her gaze wanders again, and this time it's for longer. This time, it has more intent.  Your stomach flips.
╰➤ Her lips barely move when she responds, “Good.”
╰➤ You sense the moment slipping away, and a tiny part of your brain nudges you to leave the room and go home. God-forbid Cam stumbles back in and sees that you're still here. But for some reason, you hover.
╰➤ “Thanks for earlier, by the way,” Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and your hands are growing clammy. “For helping me and stuff.”
╰➤ And stuff.
╰➤ You're not sure if thanking her for the other stuff is appropriate, considering you were practically straddling her and holding onto her in ways that's crossed many, many lines. But that seems to be the ongoing trend between you and Sevika; you cross too many lines with her.
╰➤ “No need to be thanking me.” 
╰➤ You shrug, “...Was still kind of you.”
╰➤ Her lips rub together and that's when you realize how soft they look. A small hum escapes her and you watch inquisitively as she opens her mouth. 
╰➤ But then nothing comes out, leaving her with a slack jaw and gaping mouth. Your brows start to furrow, chest tightening while several more beats pass and Sevika remains dazed. 
╰➤ A whooshing sound fills the air due to the AC turning on. Dust particles begin to circulate around you, and your ankles are tickled by the new draft blowing from the vents.
╰➤ “Is everything okay?” You try to keep the worry out of your voice, but the shift in her is abrupt.
╰➤ Her eyes cloud over with something indescribable, a sense of apprehension rolling off of her in thick waves. 
╰➤ “Um,” Her words drag and her eyes dart away from you. They settle on an empty space between you and the nearby wall. Her body is completely rigid, as if the floor will give out at any moment. “Would you ever want to hang out?”
╰➤ Your heart crawls up the walls of your esophagus, beating with all of it’s might.
╰➤ You shift your feet, then tug at your fingers.
╰➤ “Like, outside of work?” She clarifies. She dodges your eyes, settling on the other details of you instead; like your restless feet and your fidgeting hands.
╰➤ “You’d want to do that?”
╰➤ “Well,” She gives you a sidelong glance. “I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't.”
╰➤ Your internal debate resolves and your smile stretches wide—so wide that you think your cheeks are becoming sore.
 ╰➤ “Oh,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, so you have to clear your throat. “Okay. Well, I want to also.”
╰➤ She mirrors you and breaks into a silly grin, gap visible and nose wrinkling. 
╰➤ “Just let me know when,” You add. “And I’ll be down.” 
╰➤ “How about Saturday?”
╰➤ “Um—wow. I didn't know you meant so soon. Will Kai be okay with you choosing the day on their behalf?”
╰➤ Her eyebrows shoot up. “Kai?” 
╰➤ “Yeah, have you even asked if…” Oh.
╰➤ Oh.
╰➤ Your gut ignites at the revelation.
╰➤ The greys in her irises darken an alluring shade. 
╰➤ “Okay,” You nod, understanding completely now. She doesn't need to say anything more for you to realize the full weight of her offer.
╰➤ God.
╰➤ Oh God.
╰➤ You've dreamt about this moment for months but you never thought it’d actually come true.
╰➤ “Okay,” She parrots. “It's a date, then?”
╰➤ Your toes curl inside your shoes. Nodding enthusiastically, you confirm, “Definitely.”
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╰➤  You never are the type to enjoy the action of driving cars.
╰➤ It’s mostly to do with the fact that your life could very well be in someone else’s hands. The likelihood of surviving another day without being in a car accident feels like sheer luck sometimes. 
╰➤ But your road anxiety is heightened even more as you brave the heavy city traffic, trying not to pee your pants at the idea of being near Sevika in less than an hour.
╰➤ You exhale, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel restlessly. Why is this taking so long?
╰➤ After ages of waiting, you’re finally able to get to the other side of town. It’s quieter here and far less busy. Sevika texted you the suggestion this morning and you immediately agreed–the quieter, the better.
╰➤ But your heart stops when you find yourself parked in front of a towering brownstone building, with multi-story terraces and sleek black protective gates. The streets are nearly empty and the distant chirp of birds fill the air.
╰➤ Your lips are pulling into a frown when you look at your phone screen, reading, You have arrived at your destination for the nth time.
╰➤ Swiping away from the GPS app, you allow your thumbs to click on Sevika’s contact number. 
╰➤ Two rings sound before she answers, “Hello?”
╰➤ “Hi–” You crane your neck to look out of your window. “I think I‘m here? I’m not sure where your place exactly is though...”
╰➤ You hear shuffling on the other line along with the soft hum of music. Then you see movement from a window on the second floor. Curtains are pushed aside and a familiar figure comes into view. The sliding glass of the terrace door is pushed open, and she’s sticking her head out, scanning the row of cars lined up along the street. 
╰➤ “Oh,” You breathe, heart stuttering. “Nevermind. I see you.”
╰➤ You remain seated in your car, like an idiot, while her eyes lock with yours.
╰➤ Then she grins, which is a heartbreakingly beautiful thing to witness. 
╰➤ “Sorry for being late,” You rasp into the receiver, eyes never leaving hers. “I got stuck in traffic.”
╰➤ “You’re two minutes late, sweetheart.” Her voice is thick with amusement. “That’s hardly anything to fuss about.”
╰➤ The following stretch of nothing is almost too painful to bear. Something is holding you back from stepping out of the car. Whether it be fear or nerves, you can’t really tell. All you know is that this feels like uncharted territory. 
╰➤ “I’ll come down and get you,” She says. You nod. She disappears into her apartment and the line goes dead.
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╰➤ The air of Sevika’s apartment smells overwhelmingly like her: woodsy with a hint of apple cinnamon. Your shoes click against the floorboard when she guides you through the doorway, knuckles brushing against your forearm and leaving a fire in its wake. 
╰➤ “This is me.” Her voice is soft around the lock of the deadbolt and chain guard. There’s a lowly dimmed lamp hanging from the ceiling, a coat rack placed in the corner and a sitting bench to your left.  She looks over slowly–hesitantly; as if she’s trying to gauge your reaction.
╰➤ You find yourself swallowing thickly as you’re smacked with another smell of her. 
╰➤ When you don’t respond, she toes out of her shoes, movements quiet and swift. Silently, you follow her lead. She gathers your boots with hers and positions them underneath the sitting bench. 
╰➤ “This way,” She mumbles. You allow her to side-step, walking down the hall and toward a connecting room, where you faintly see a burgundy living room set. The walk down the corridor almost feels too quick, since you keep getting distracted by the countless art and picture frames lined up on her wall. You realize that the walls appear to be so decorated that you don’t see much of the paint. 
╰➤ Her living room appears to be similar, littered with different pieces of art and photographs that you could stare at for hours if given the chance. The atmosphere is tranquil but the furniture and color scheme is deliberate and poised. The ceiling is much higher than yours and the windows are fairly large. Much of the interior is splashed with dark velvety hues of red and purple. 
╰➤ Two brimming bookshelves stretch to the ceiling, lined with countless collections of CDs and novels. The brick fireplace is already lit and emmenates a warm glow around the room. Sevika’s gaze is clear and level when you peer at her. And her eyebrows lift inquisitively. 
╰➤ “It’s…” Your voice cracks, causing you to clear your throat. “This is really nice.” 
╰➤ Her head is tilted, eyes squinting ever-so-slightly with a nature that is purely meditative; as if she’s trying to pick out any signs of dishonesty. The burning sensation of her dissection is potent. Your mouth pools with saliva as the seconds tick by.
╰➤ A low whistle escapes you as you try to compensate for the tension. “Why so quiet?” Your legs shuffle.
╰➤ She licks her lips and hums. “Just trying to make sure this is okay.”
╰➤ “What?” Your eyebrows are furrowing.
╰➤ She gestures at your surroundings, “This. My home—at least, that you’re comfortable being here. If you prefer to spend time in a more public place, then…”
╰➤ “Oh.” Your features relax. She’s trying to be polite. “No. This is fine, Sev. I’m always comfortable around you.” You wipe your sweaty palms against the material of your pants. 
╰➤ Her eyes follow the movement of your hands, before they linger on the lower half of your body for the tenth of a second while her jaw flexes. You gaze at her with growing anticipation due to the dead silence. She takes a long inhale through her nose, refocusing her attention back to your eyes with what seems like a great deal of concentration. 
╰➤ A shaky smile spreads across your lips. You travel over to one of the nearby bookshelves, which holds a CD player that’s currently playing a smooth jazz solo. You have to find something to do—anything—other than stand there and grow lustful under her pressing gaze. 
╰➤ “You have quite a collection,” You begin.
╰➤ Your back is turned to her as you look through the cases that are neatly stacked together. Despite being covered with clothing, the skin of your back grows hot, as if her gaze is seeping straight through the material of your shirt.
╰➤ “A lot of them were my parents. They loved collecting music.”
╰➤ You don't have the heart or gall to mention the past-tense reference of her parents. Instead, you nod. 
╰➤ You feel like you're hypervigilant to everything about her in that moment. The sound of her weight traveling across the carpet becomes heightened, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand when you see her shadow appearing out of the corner of your eye. When you look towards your left, you struggle to contain the zoo that rips through your stomach. She's close. Very close.
╰➤ Her shoulders brush against yours while she reaches across you to turn down the stereo. "You can pick something else if you want," Her voice dips into something low and syrupy. "I don't know what type of music you like." Then she's walking away. Your eyes follow her as she disappears into another room. "Are you thirsty?"
╰➤ "I'll listen to practically anything as long as it's not country." You shuffle through the CD's, stopping when a particular one catches your eye. A classic. "What do you have?"
╰➤ Once you've replaced the CD with one of your choice, you mosey into the other room to join her. It's a kitchen, fairly minimalist compared to the living room, and painted with nearly all black decor. The sight of Sevika standing there is unfamiliar. Her hair is tied up in a half up half down, small tendrils escaping and brushing against the sides of her face. Her nose is wrinkled, eyes squinted and lip rolled inwards.
╰➤ She leans most of her weight onto her hands, which are resting on the surface of the kitchen island. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, and attention is focused acutely on a book that's sitting on the counter. Something savory wafts in the air and you spy a stove behind her that seems to be emanating an exceptional amount of warmth.
╰➤ "Um," you mumble. "Is everything okay?"
╰➤ Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, at first holding something distant, before they cloud over with an undeniable light. Her hands tighten into fists, pressing against the marble countertop before she relaxes them. Then she's standing upright, one arm falling to her side while the other rubs against her forehead. "I'm..." Her words trail off as she glances at the watch on her wrist. "Fuck."
╰➤ Then she's whipping around, opening the oven door. A small cloud of smoke appears.
╰➤ "What are you cooking?" You close the distance between the two of you, swiping through the smoke before peering into the oven.
╰➤ "Nothing anymore." She sighs. "It was supposed to be—"
╰➤ "Lasagna."
╰➤ You reach for the oven mitts sitting on the nearby countertop, slipping them on before grabbing the deep-dish pan.
╰➤ "I noticed you have it a lot." She continues. "I just thought—since you seem to like it..."
╰➤ You set it on the hot pads, inspecting the top layer of the pasta dish.
╰➤ "Actually, it doesn't look too bad." You say. "It'll have to go back in, and we'll need to turn the heat down to 375, so that it cooks all the way through the layers without scorchi—"
╰➤ That's when it hits you.
╰➤ "Wait," You abruptly right yourself, snapping your head towards her. She's already watching you, drinking in everything you were saying. Her eyebrows raise at your outburst. Hands still covered in mittens, you're stepping around her, doing a double take at the book that's still open on the kitchen island. "Is that a cookbook?"
╰➤ She doesn't immediately respond.
╰➤ When you crane you neck to get a better look, you're barely registering the words Classic Homemade Lasagna Recipe before her large hand abruptly lands on the book with a loud smack! Her fingers are outstretched, keeping you from being able to see majority of what's written. But it's too late, your assumption has already been proven right.
╰➤ The book is shut before you can say anything else. She opens an overhead cupboard, sliding it in there with one quick motion.
╰➤ "Oh my god," You fight off a wave of giggles, lips stretching into a wide grin. "That was definitely a cookbook."
╰➤ She brushes a few loose hairs out of her face and chooses to avoid your gaze.
╰➤ The stillness that follows is nearly unbearable. In the distance, you hear the current song from the CD player fading out. A car is honking from the street outside and the buzz of the AC comes on. You're still turned towards her, hands covered by her oven mitts and cheeks aching from the smile on your face. She continues to dodge you; resolute.
╰➤ You can't contain your laughter anymore. It's bellows out of you like a songbird breaking free from its cage. That seems to finally draw her attention, and wills her to glance at you. Upon locking eyes, slowly, she smiles an equally warm grin.
╰➤ And just like that, the elastic band of tension that existed all evening snaps.
╰➤ Her laughter quickly follows yours, deeper and soothing and just as beautiful as the last time you heard it. Her rigid stance melts away and her fingers relax.
╰➤ "Sev, why—" You wet your lips. "You didn't have to go out of your way to a get recipe and make this. I would have been fine with take-out."
╰➤ "Kai sent me the link to the cookbook yesterday and I figured why not. It was only $20," She rolls her eyes. "Plus it has better reviews that the lasagna recipes I was looking at online."
╰➤ The cookbook was only $20.
╰➤ Adrenaline courses through your veins from such an implication. Sevika bought a cookbook just to make one of your favorite foods. No one's ever done something like that for you before.
╰➤ No one's ever paid close enough attention to even notice your love for lasagna.
╰➤ The way Sevika always manages to nonchalantly flatter you will forever be something you struggle to fathom.
╰➤ You're biting the inside of your cheek, trying your best to contain your buzzing excitement as you place the pan back into the oven. Your back remains turned to her, stomach flipping and fingers nimble.
╰➤ "This is very kind of you to do," You find yourself muttering.
╰➤ "I mean," The sound of her body weight shifting is subtle. "It's our first date. It's the least I could do."
╰➤ "Still kind."
╰➤ You don't allow yourself to brush over one of her many kind gestures. You don't allow yourself to take any of this for granted. Sevika has been very good to you, especially in a world where people haven't been in the past. Often times, she's been more than just your friendly coworker.
╰➤ Whether she wants to admit it or not, she's the one who's actually a sweetheart.
╰➤ "Why don't you like to accept my compliments?" You inquire. You take off her oven mitts, setting them on a nearby counter-space before turning around. Droplets of perspiration trickle down your forehead and the back of your neck. You wipe them away with the palm of your hand, stepping away from the searing hot oven and towards her.
╰➤ Sevika is resting against the kitchen island, arms crossed over her chest and eyes solely fixed on you. You don't miss the way her jaw flexes as you come closer. But you choose to ignore it, positioning yourself to where your right hip is pressed against the island cupboards, just off of Sevika's left shoulder.
╰➤ "Because most of the time, I'm not doing anything extraordinary." She wrinkles her nose. "It's the bare minimum, actually."
╰➤ "Well," You almost come to a standstill as you rack your brain for an appropriate response. "I still appreciate it."
╰➤ That's when you send her a smile. Similar to an innate feeling, you expect her to return the gesture, since there's never really been a time that Sevika hasn't.
╰➤ But the seconds continue to stretch and her smile never appears.
╰➤ Her lips part and her throat bobs as she swallows thickly. You don't think you've seen her eyes look so lucid before.
╰➤ A part of you wants to be consumed by her. You want her to have you; in whatever way that would mean for her. You'd be happy with any scenario. But another part also wants you to remain present in this moment; to fully cling onto every moment that passes with you in her presence. It's a heartbreakingly beautiful conundrum to be in.
╰➤ "The bare minimum barely checks off the list. You know that, right?" Her voice is firm during this wake of silence. Assertive. Strong. But her words manage to undue something within you; something you didn't even know was tightly wound to begin with. "You deserve to receive so much more than the bare minimum from someone. And you deserve to not have to thank them for that."
╰➤ She says it with such conviction that you almost believe that she's been thinking about this for a while.
╰➤Hearing those words nearly break you.
╰➤ They're arguably obvious. But despite how much the general public likes to make instagram captions and TedTalks about it, you've never really been told this before. Not directly. Not with such certainty.
╰➤ "And," She wets her lips, eyes darting away from you for the first time. "Of course I don't want to be too full on this soon. I'd like to think cooking you one of your favorite foods would give me a good start. But there's—" She's shaking her head with creases forming in between her brows. "...a lot more that I want to offer to you other than shitty lasagna."
╰➤ You don't respond for a beat as you feel a new unspoken surge of energy igniting between you two. It's takes form as an invisible current, growing with each ticking second.
╰➤ Her attention doesn't waver, remaining clear and steady and safe. You find it hard to breathe with the careful way that she's studying you. Air pacts into your lungs at an alarming rate and your heart beats a mile a minute while your throat locks.
╰➤ Your lips part. Then, "What else are you wanting to offer?"
╰➤ You watch as she cards her fingers through her hair. There's a bounce to her silky locks that leads you to believe it's been very recently washed. If you step forward more, all you have to do is reach up to touch it. She's so close.
╰➤ Incredibly close.
╰➤ You don't know how it's happened but somewhere deep inside of you, where the abandoned and empty house of your life resided, a bright light has been ignited. Somehow, that house is no longer empty. It's no longer cold. Sevika has managed to cast an exceptional amount of life into you.
╰➤ Everything becomes watery at the revelation; her black marble countertops, her crème colored button-up, the swirling grey of her irises. It's all blurry. You struggle to blink away your welling tears.
╰➤ How typical of you to get emotional during a time like this...
╰➤ Sevika doesn't reply. She just peers at you with an expression that makes her look as if she's short circuiting. The air is warm, with the oven being heated to a scorching 375 degrees just a few feet away. It's warm and Sevika doesn't falter in managing to unravel you from her regard. It's warm, and your hands are reaching out. It's warm because it's her. She's the warmth.
╰➤ Your hands stop mid-reach, hovering in the air as she fleetingly glances at them. Your pulse thumps against the side of your neck; eyelids fluttering. "What else?" You press. A gentle nudge. A plead.
╰➤ You need to hear her say it; for the sake of confirming that everything is requited.
╰➤ She closes the rest of the distance by grabbing your hands with hers. They're larger and wrap around yours without any extra effort. The gesture is small. But it somehow still causes your legs to nearly give out. She tugs you, urging you closer. You stumble as you give into her magnetic pull. But you're too caught up in all that she is to truly feel embarrassed by it.
╰➤ "I want to offer you everything good." Sevika states it firmly; earnestly. "I don't feel that with people very often. But you," She squeezes your hands, puffing out a heavy exhale. Her breath brushes over your face, minty and enticing. "...I'd do anything to bring goodness into your life."
╰➤ "You already have." The lump in your throat explodes, almost blowing it out completely. Your voice is hoarse—thick with emotion.
╰➤ Her breathing becomes shaky and her mouth falls open. You watch as shock transforms itself onto her features.
╰➤ "Seeing you everyday in that stuffy break room...getting to know you and being able to talk to you," You continue, head bowing as you try to gather your thoughts in a way that won't overwhelm her. "Those days rest with me right here." You bring both your hands and hers to rest against your chest. "I already hold a deep tenderness for you. And it's something that's only for you. Do you know that?"
╰➤ She keenly follows your lips as you speak, leaning so closely now that her forehead grazes against yours. The movement is painstakingly subtle but it still makes your surroundings blacken. The feeling that takes over is close to a rebirth; like being pushed into the ocean by yourself and somehow resurfacing with Sevika fundamentally built into you.
╰➤ And when she kisses you, you know, down to the marrow of your bones, that this is something holy. Teeth clatter and hunger intensifies. Her hands have found solace by clinging onto the rolls of your hips, digging into you, hooking you to her. Ink becomes imprinted onto your heart, screaming—scrawling—Sevikasevikasevikasevika endlessly.
╰➤ She trembles slightly when you press against her; your hands resting against the firmness of her biceps. You reach for her further, never fully satiated, while your toes pull you upwards. Your neck cranes and your chest constricts from the way you desperately lean against her. You're chasing her—her mouth, her smell, her lips, her taste—and she welcomes you with just as much desperation.
╰➤ She's whispering, "...okay, okay," her voice a gentle echo. Her fingers curl into you, positively leaving marks. "I definitely know now."
╰➤ Sevika transforms from warmth to burning heat at that moment. You cherish the feeling.
╰➤ Somewhere, not too far away, a celestial body explodes.
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╰➤ When she's lifting your shirt off of you, the burgundy color of her duvet being lit by a bright moon shining through her window, that same feeling of your world revitalizing returns.
╰➤ A mix of soft sighs and oh sweetheart and countless cresting follows. Your legs quiver and symphonies sound in your ears while she devours you as if you're her last meal.
╰➤ "Don't stop," you continuously plead, drunk off of the beautiful disaster that such a person could cause.
╰➤ She whispers into your skin, mouthing—kissing—and nipping, with a broken voice, "I won't. I promise."
╰➤ I promise.
╰➤ I promise.
╰➤ I promise.
╰➤ The headboard cracks. There's laughter, and snack breaks and savory kisses.
╰➤ And when you're lapping into her with unadulterated vehemence, giving her everything that she wants to take, you promise too.
╰➤ You'll promise everyday if she asks you to.
╰➤ You'll promise until your life expires—until the world ends. Until she decides that she doesn't want you anymore.
╰➤ Long gone are the moments of uncertainty; of hesitancy.
╰➤ After the both of you have recovered from chasing such a high, her arm remains draped over your waist, tugging you into her. She mumbles, "Stay," with a vulnerability that has you shaking your head before a beat of silence can pass.
╰➤ "Always."
╰➤ Another explosion emerges; this time larger. A supernova.
╰➤ Your lips press against her throat. She shivers. Her grip tightens. The moon shines brighter.
╰➤ Always.
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