#i wish the pool table was functional :(

[fizzytoo]

furnishing a cozy lesbian bar !

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 interior #i wish the pool table was functional :( #hauntedtrait if you happen to see this :D it's the bar jess and maria own <3

[rboooks]

Alfred's Boy: Part 2

Bruce felt his blood pressure rise as Damian shoved another pair of swimming trucks into his cart. His youngest insisted that he needed something flattering, as his previous outfit was "functional but not attractive to the youth of today."

Damian had never cared that he wasn't up to the trends, but that was before Danny moved into the manor. Now he had to wait hours for Damian to find a satisfying outfit, knowing darn well its only because Danny mentioned he was interested in taking a dip in the inner pool.

The boy, technically being staff, felt it was essential to ask permission before taking a swim. Bruce had spent years telling Alfred he had free range over the manor, only to always have the man ask before doing anything. He hopes Danny won't develop the same habit.

He wanted the young man to feel at home with them.

His younger children- who honest to God forgot they even had a pool- had all scrambled to go swimming with Danny. Tim had practically thrown himself over the table to change from his WE suit into his swimming wear, Duke use his grappling hook to zoom up the stairs and Steph begged Cass to lend her a bikini.

Damian remained seated, despairing that his old swimming shorts had been bought by Dick the year previous. Dick had gotten him green shorts with little cats and dogs. Damian- who refused to even go near public pools- wore them to the family pool with no desire to purchase new ones since he saw no point in it.

And now he was paying the price for keeping childish wear. Personally, Bruce thought they were adorable and perfect for his fourteen-year-old son, but being two years younger than Danny gave him a terrible disadvantage, and Damian could not afford falling futher behind.

He just sat there, staring longingly at the retreating back of Alfred's assistant after telling him he had nothing to wear. Danny had told them he could join the rest another time before scurrying away to finish his cleaning of the right wing.

What else could Bruce do besides offering to take him to the nearest outlet mall and get him something nicer?

"Damian are you almost-"

"I am ready, father. Make haste to purchase our wears. Daniel must be finishing his duties, and I wish to get back." His son announced, yanking the cart out of Bruce's hand and practically running to the cashiers.

Bruce sighed.

It's not that he minded his son's crush on a boy or that it was Danny. It just felt like he shouldn't be encouraging his children to try and romance someone going through a lot.

Alfred had forbidden anyone from looking into Danny's background, and he had respected the request. There was a lot Bruce and Batman were willing to do but defying a direct order from Alfred was not one of them.

(Honesty, if Alfred ever turned evil, Bruce's contingency plan for him was simple: Die.)

Danny took his assistant butler job very seriously. Often wearing a neat and pressed suit, finishing his work in record time, well mannered and very intelligent but kept a distance from the family. Alfred also had a small wall of professionalism but he would crack a joke and be in their presence like a grandfather.

Danny only spoke when spoken to, tried to refrain from being notice and basically kept the reminder that while he liked them all he was always going to be a employee first and foremost.

Maybe it was due to his parents? Danny probably couldn't relax until he felt safe once more. Not for the first time, Bruce wondered what type of monsters the Fentons had to be to make a boy capable of discovering the Batcave without so much of a blink, flatter.

"Father!" Damian called impatiently, tapping his foot before the nervous-looking teen who what been attempting to ring him up.

The Wayne's made everyone nervous.

"Yes. Yes. Here put It on my card-" Damian snatched it out of his hand before Bruce even took it out completely from his wallet.

Suddenly his phone rings. Seeing that Damian could handle punching in the Pin, he accepted the call, not bothering to check the screen.

All his children have personalized ringtones, so only one person would cause Gun and Ships from the Hamilton musical to blare from his phone.

"Jason-"

"Bruce!" Jason yells in a wheezing voice "Tim almost drowned!"

What.

"Is he alright!?"

"He's fine!" Jason assures, voice breaking to manic cackling. "He's just really embarrassed. He forgot about the bruise on his back, so when he tried to do cannonballs with Danny, he cramped up. Danny had to help him out of the pool and then lectured him about jumping in the deep end because of peer pressure. He thinks Tim can't swim, Bruce!"

Bruce felt a headache building behind his eyes. "Jason-"

"Wait, wait, there's more! Do you know how Steph never wears bikinis because she is uncomfortable? Danny clocked that as soon as she walked in and offered her the old t-shirt he was wearing. Took it off right then and there, and do you know what Steph did!? She walked into a wall! A wall Bruce!"

"Jason-"

"Duke hasn't stopped staring at Danny. I think his brain is in a permanent blue screen. I'm actually thinking he's-"

"Jason!" Bruce cut in which finally seemed to get his second oldest attention. Don't get him wrong, he was thrilled that Jason was spending so much time around the manor but the constant updates on his children tripping over themselves for Danny was not well for his heart. "I think you need to make sure your siblings give Danny some space. The poor chum might not be comfortable-"

"I'm not helping you stop Danny from finding true love, old man"

Bruce rolled his eyes as his son hung up. He can't wait for school to start up again. Danny will be homeschooled by his own request and Alfred's agreement but at least most of his kids will not be around him as often.

His phone started playing Sk8er Boy and he considered not answering. He really did but honestly his son probably needed him.

With a sigh he presses the accept call button "Tim-"

"He thinks I can't swim Bruce! He banned me from the pool!" Tim sobs and Bruce sees Damian perk up, happy Danny had put distance between one of his suitors ans himself.

Was it too late to ask Alfred if he was sure his contact Clockwork had no where else to foster Danny?

Being Batman on the night all his rouges broke out was easier then this.

( Part 1) (part 3)

#dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #part 2 #Bruce is tired #Jason is having the time of his life #Danny just wants to work #hes not aware they like him #he just thinka rich people are weird

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I'm not good at writing these but can we please see an interaction between Rollo and Trein and maybe Lucius? I really like the idea of Trein being a mentor figure to Rollo since Trein says he will keep an eye on him at the end of Glorious Masquerade. I don't know how the interaction would be structured but I'll leave that up to you if you choose to write this!

Yessss 😭 YOU GET IT, Trein could be a great mentor to Rollo…

For the last hour, Rollo had been nursing a growing migraine. The bumping music, the horde of guests, his inner voice counting off all the work still yet to be done. Each was another icy nail driven into his skull. Two glasses of grape juice were not enough to dull that buzz that clouded his mind.

Rollo had excused himself from making social rounds to fill up on refreshments—but he knew it wouldn't be long before someone came by to drag him back into the fray.

He slumped forward in his seat, catching his forehead with one hand. In his other hand, he clutched onto his third serving of grape juice. His only solace in these trying times.

Rollo exhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. A silent prayer was at his lips.

Lord help me persevere. I am surrounded by idiots, beseeched to engage with them…!! Why must I endure this madness?!

A sudden softness came down on his nose.

“Mrow.”

Startled, Rollo immediately shot up. His grape juice nearly spilled, had a quick paw not catch the rim and keep it upright.

A plump cat had appeared on the table, staring at Rollo through sharp golden eyes. Its coat was a glossy black, the tip of its fluffy tail, chest, and muzzle a fine white. The cat meowed again, releasing its hold on the almost-fallen cup.

“Good day to you, Flamme.”

An older man appeared, scooping up the feline in his arms. His stern, bony face had been carved out with lines like the rings in a tree's core, his hair--streaked in shades of salt and pepper--slicked back from his forehead. He was dressed in a sharp suit and cravat, long maroon robes spilling over them.

“Mozus-sensei.” Rollo automatically straightened. “I was not aware that you were among those in attendance. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

"Quite a large number of students wished to leave campus for an important function. I am serving as the chaperone to them. Were it only one or two boys wishing to leave, I would not be needed to supervise." Trein gave a papery smile. "Ah, but it looks as though you have too many companions to keep them away."

Rollo attempted at a polite laugh behind his handkerchief. “Yes, it seems they feel the need to shower me with their attention.”

“I take it you do not favor these circumstances.”

“… Is it that easy to tell? I thought I was hiding it as best as I could.”

“You are sitting alone in a corner with nothing more than a drink in hand to keep you company,” Trein tactfully pointed out. “I understand. These events have the potential to wear one down. A moment of peace and quiet can be restorative.

"As for myself, I find that sitting down and stroking my dear Lucius helps after a long day. Would you like to give it a try? It just may soothe you as well."

Trein shifted, holding out Lucius to Rollo. The cat stared expectantly at the student, its tail swishing back and forth like a metronome.

Rollo's eyes widened. “What? No, I couldn't possibly...!"

Too late, Lucius had already been placed into his lap. The cat's body was almost liquid, pooling and settling into his new resting spot. Lucius was warm and soft, like the wings of an angel.

Rollo grimaced.

A familiar was on him, some mangy animal that had been mucking around who knows where before making contact.

"He likes to be scratched behind the ears and under the chin," Trein coaxed, demonstrating. "The head and back are safe too."

Rollo reluctantly followed Trein's instructions, his fingers sinking into the depths of Lucius's fur and awkwardly petting. Soon, the cat was purring contentedly.

“Aaah, Lucius. You’re so adorable and good with children," Trein cooed. "I think he likes you, Flamme."

"Does he?" Rollo looked doubtful--not that he had any particular interest in befriending a mage's familiar to begin with. Am I meant to feel flattered by that comment?

"Of course. I don't mind if you wish to stay a little longer and become better acquainted with Lucius." Trein motioned to the empty seat across from Rollo. "May I join you?"

He hesitated, considering. Between returning to the raging party and remaining in respite... Rollo warily glanced between his two options, and his answer immediately became clear.

"... I don't see why not," he said at last, relenting. Rollo had a fistful of Lucius's fur in his hand as he got the words out.

"Excellent. I've been meaning to catch up with you." Trein sank into the chair and folded his hands together. "Now then, how have you been? It's been a while."

The conversation that followed flowed like wine. Easily poured, and just as easily downed. It tasted clean and smooth upon his palate, clearing away the bitterness that had pervaded all day.

The glass of grape juice sat there, forgotten.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #Mozus Trein #Lucius #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Rollo birthday takeover

[generic-whumperz]

CW: starvation & withholding food, restraints, gag, creepy Whumper

Whumper sits at the kitchen table, feasting on Whumpee’s favorite meal in front of them. Whumpee is bound and gagged on the floor several feet away, glaring at Whumper who’s happily shoveling bite after delicious bite of food in their mouth.

Whumpee is starving.

Whumper crudely moans in ostentatious delight from each mouthful—an obvious effort to provoke their prisoner and further needle their way under their skin like an annoying splinter that only digs itself deeper and deeper with every effort to remove it.

Whumpee can see the swirling heat wafting from Whumper’s take-out container as the mouthwatering aroma causes them to salivate profusely; drool pools around their gag and drips down in long, stringy globs down their shirt.

Their stomach aches from hunger pains, grumbling loudly in drawn-out, obnoxious warbling gurgles. Their primal need for substance is the only thing curbing the embarrassment of their body’s noisy biological functions.

Whumper takes heed of Whumpee’s groaning body, stopping mid-bite to shoot them a playful smirk.

“Want a bite, Whumpee?” Whumper taunts in a harmonic tone before indulging in another mouthful.

They hum in delight, talking as they chew, “Hm, god, this is sooo good. I can see why this is your favorite. Definitely makes my top five. Real hole-in-the-wall place, but goddamn, is this some ta-sty grub. One-way ticket to flavor town, amirite?”

Whumper swallows and then glances down at Whumpee.

“How’s this—I undo that gag, and you get to eat, but only under one condition…”

Whumpee listens eagerly, lightly pulling on their restraints, shifting as much as the rope would allow; the scratchy fibers chafe their irritated, raw skin from days spent tied up.

A wicked smile tugs up the corners of Whumper’s mouth.

“I feed you,” they purr.

Whumpee’s cheeks bloom hot from shame as a knot in their stomach tightens.

They are so hungry.

They need food—however they can get it, the details don't matter.

Whumpee shallowly nods once, their reply an inglorious and dubious ‘yes.’

Whumper lights up in delight from finally coaxing Whumpee to comply with their wishes and eagerly wipes their mouth with a napkin.

“Excellent! I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d give in to me, Whumpee,” Whumper winks.

Whumpee already regrets their forced decision.

#can you tell I wrote this when I was hungry? #scraped and saved from the drafts #whump scenario #whump scenes #captive whumpee #whumpee x whumper #creepy whumper #starvation whump #Generic Writez

[master-sass-blast]

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

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

Uh... hi.

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

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

Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

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

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

Pairing(s): Sevika/Reader.

Rating: M for some sensual themes and making out.

Word Count: 10.1k. Whoops.

You drive her to drink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then…

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

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

Sevika scowls down into her whiskey. Fucking psycho kid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anyone else want to have a go?”

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

The whiskey burns her throat –expected and grounding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut. Up.”

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

“...Duh.”

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

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

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

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

“Then what is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I–”

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

“That’s–”

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

“I’m–”

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

“If you interrupt me again–”

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

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

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

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

Sevika glares harshly at them–

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you having another?”

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

“Since when?” Ran mutters under their breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silver perks up. “What about arm wrestling?”

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

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

Arik pouts, but says nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take her fucking hand,” Theo growls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think you could beat Sev?”

Traitor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Three, two, one–”

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

“Shit.” Sevika strains against your arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crowd clustered around the table breaks into cheers.

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

“What about the other one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The table quakes beneath the weight of her arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then her hand lowers an inch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s hot.

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

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

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

It’s over.

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

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

You’re still holding her hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sev.”

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

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

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

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

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

Silco’s office is mercifully dark. Quiet.

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

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

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

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

Too silent.

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

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

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

The bar is empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Did she do something to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Smart,” Sevika purrs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bite me.”

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

“You implying something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, and the tattoo.

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

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

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

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

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

“This okay?” Sevika murmurs.

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“Ask her out, or get over it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her gut drops. “Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You moan and grind your hips against hers–

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

You both freeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide. “Uh–”

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

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

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

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

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

#sass writes #sevika x reader #fueled by the author's desire to be built like a mountain #but alas i am a twig #also i know jackshit about arm wrestling #don't use this as a guide on how to win at arm wrestling #smut will be coming in part two

[swapmeetsimming]

Last Summer Retro Backyard

Coming out next week for EA.

Recreate those miserable family gatherings you were forced to attend!

We have: A lawn chair, an aluminum frame and scratchy straps with 6 swatches. A matching lounge chair for pretending to be asleep so you don't have to speak to family members! A classic "Bug Zapper". This is actually a hanging light, and like the real thing, it won't keep bugs away! A citronella candle for the table. This one is just a small light, but real ones were supposedly toxic to bugs, and probably humans/pets, but be like my relatives and put it next to all the food on the table. Not kidding about that. An old school round BBQ grill! 6 swatches. A classic picnic table with 5 swatches A set of 3 grill tools with wood handles to match the grill. A deco lid for the grill - this will slot to the grill when not in use(use the MOO cheat!) A bag of Charcoal A cute kiddie pool! 6 colors and each color has 2-3 bottom prints. The slide is just for show, but it's cute. A functional cooler! This one is "always open" to show the vast array of retro drinks inside, unlike real life the ice is always full, and all the good sodas haven't been taken. Comes in 6 swatches to match the grill. A boombox! Play all your favorite tapes(I wish) with it! Or set it to the in-game retro station and be disappointed it's not actually 80's/90's music.

#sims 4 cc #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 creator #the sims cc #sims 4 mods #sims 4 clutter #maxis match #simblr #sims4cc #ts4 wip #ts4 simblr #ts4 #ts4cc #sims 4 wip #sims 4 backyard #sims 4 retro

[yakumtsaki]

I’d like to start this update with this shocking image of SHAJAR TICKLING JOJO. Since when do you two remotely interact?!?

-Oh lighten up, will ya? -My beloved daughter is right, look at those snapdragon animations, everything’s literally coming up roses around here! 

YA RIGHT, ‘things are going great’, what bs are you gonna come up with next??

-Things ARE going great! Look at me suddenly being a good father!

-And look at me becoming a professional party guest! And I’ve been super loyal to Don too, huhu!🌸

Ok well excuse me if I don’t bust out the confetti yet, historically we’ve had some difficulties maintaining a winning streak around here..

Sugar, there you are! Now what disaster do you currently have going on, spit it out.

-No disasters, just enjoying my day off! 

WHAT IS HAPPENING 

-I’ve just read this great book about the importance of skin-to-skin contact for newborns!

-And I rolled the want to potty-train Felina!

-And I just love changing diapers all of a sudden! 

OK SERIOUSLY WTF. Are we gonna have our first calm update.. EVER??

Oh man here we go, here we go, what are you two arguing about!

-Nothing, we’re just talking about how nice it is that those spicy updates are a thing of the past! -It’s so much better to treat each other with love and respect!💗

Are you people trying to drive me crazy??

-I got promoted again! I can’t wait to share the good news with my family and then spend quality time with my children! 

OH MY GOD ENOUGH

The kittens grew up and Shinok is the automatic heir per my tradition of picking the chonkiest cat! The puppies also grew up..

..and I think it’s clear who the dog heir is LOL. Veronica where the hell did your giant ears come from?? 

-I don’t know but they’re a lewk! 

They most certainly are! The non-heir pets are of course going off to have much better lives with Wulf and Angel❤️

Speaking of ❤️, it is with a heavy ❤️ that after trying to turn Jojo into a werewolf for the better part of a century, I’M NOW CURING HIM PER HIS WISH. Jojo truly, I have no words. 

-Well then you’re gonna love the want I’m about to roll tomorrow!

GO TO HELL

Things continue to go UNNERVINGLY well. Liz topped her career and rolled the want to teach Felina to talk-

-followed by the want to teach her to walk! (Look at their identical noses, awwwww🧡)

Then Sophito rolled the want to teach her a nursery rhyme, at which point something incredibly shocking has become clear. Sit down for this: we are dealing with our first pair of good parents in the main house.

DUDE. THEY’RE EVEN HAVING CONVOS ABOUT PARETING I CAN’T. REMEMBER WHEN YOU USED TO BANG ON THE UNI POOL TABLE??

-Oh haha, we sure were wild back then! Now dear, I read about this great new educational toy- 

-Oh I know the one, it said it helps with cognitive development!  -Yes!  -We need to get two, Bartholomew is about to become a toddler!

Oh right he is!

That’s how calm shit is around here, that I actually REMEMBERED a birthday. Alright Barth, time to grow up! Please don’t get the Frances eyebrows, please, please, please-

-YES THANK GOD. Now let’s check the ole personality panel..

..OH NO HE HAS SHAJAR’S PERSONALITY. DON’T EVEN THINK OF ROLLING POPULARITY, YOU HEAR ME, YOU LITTLE BRAT?? Happy birthday etc.

Speaking of Shajar, Cyneswith remains a better grandma than her despite not being these kids’ grandma. 

-I wanna teach her how to talk!🌸  

You what now?

-Ok baby now say ‘chair, huhu💗’! -Chaiw, huhu💗! -YAYYYY🌸

Alright I’m starting to develop a theory here since Cyn is so ridic partial to Felina but doesn’t seem to give a crap about Bartholomew, that maybe Cyn wanted a daughter?? Idek dude, NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANYMORE.

Look at this shit.

LOOK.

LOOK. Like these are legit some never-before-seen images, where did this all functionality come from??? Also man Barth is ROTUND, his cheeks! Liz and Soph really made some cute bbs🧡

It’s time for Felina’s birthday, which I ALSO REMEMBERED. Jojo does the honors since this is probably the last birthday where he’ll be with us💔

OMG SHE’S A LIL SOPHITO CLONE

-I sure am! Now if you’ll excuse me, grandma Cyn said she has bought some new clothes for me!

OH GOOD LORD CYN

#long post #gen 4 #ts2

[barbiewritesstuff]

Revelation

-- I may have had a dream about this. Not my best writing but my cat wanted cuddles only when I pickes up my phone to write soo... --

Hangman had been playing pool with quite some skill for the past hour, and darts before that. He had been in the zone, undistractable by anyone and anything. That was until he glanced at you.

You had come with your friend for a quick drink. You had obviously introduced her to them which is why Hangman knew her name was Jane and she was a sports journalist. These jobs, or at least hers tended to keep awful hours, so maybe it wasn't a surprise you had decided to meet up so late. Hangman couldn't quite place why she'd brought a baby though. 

The baby was the problem. She was a cute kid, quiet, well-behaved kid and currently curled up into your lap. It also didn't help that she looked a little like you, with her curly blinde hair, blue eyes and adorable little smile.

That's when he started playing shit. 

His brain wouldn't let up. Images of you and your baby, Hangman's baby, dancing around his brain. Feelings he had long thought he would never feel surged from the shadows to plague him. 

He forced the cue into Bob's hands and made his way to you.

"She likes you" He stated. He really wished he could behave normally, say a joke, make you blush, extinguish the fire burning in his insides.

Jake sat himself down in the seat your friend had vacated.

"Where is she?"

"Went to the bathroom, should be back any minute. Are you okay?" You asked. He looked pale and worried. He wiped his hands on his trousees.

Jake thought for a second. You two had become fast friends. You spent hours texting together since the mission, just talking and venting. You had really become one of his best friends. And despite his pickle, the only person he wanted to talk about it with was you.

"I think I'm in love with you. I realised just now, It's never happened before, I'm not sure what to do" 

That much is obvious, you thought. A small smile formed on your face. You thought back on the last few weeks of your life and the late night conversation. It was hard to deny that you were attracted to him, but you had never imagined that Jake could feel the same.

"You could ask me out on a date"

"Yes" He paused with furrowed brows "That would be a good idea"

He didn't. You knew he hated this, Jake's Hangman persona was the carefully crafted façade of a man who needed control. With the asshole persona there was no guessing what people thought of you. With the ladies-man act, you knew exactly where you stood with people. You didn't know why, but he needed it. It was a life-line, and now it was gone Jake realised he didn't know how to function without it.

"I'm free tomorrow, you should pick me up around 6pm, you can decide what to do" You offered

"Thank you" 

"What made you realise?"

"The baby" He said, in a tone implying that he was slightly frustrated with himself.

"You know, I never thought I wanted kids. I never liked them. I realised I might like them -- if they were yours. Ours…"

You looked at him with your mouth slightly agape. He looked away from you.

"I don't really know what to say" You whispered

Shit, he thought, I should have lied. He heard you exhale a shaky breath before saying

"I want kids, Jake. So play your cards right and I might be able to help with that dream of yours." 

Jake wanted to reply but Jane had finished up in the bathroom and was making a beeline for your table. He stood up, almost knocking it down with his knee.

"See you tomorrow then" he smiled, making his way back to the pool table, already knowing he was going to lose. He wasn't going to be thinking clearly til tomorrow anyway.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #original fic #jake seresin #hangman top gun

[leverage-ot3]

I need to know the story behind you breaking into an abandoned asylum! That sounds interesting as hell!

okay so I’m prefacing by saying if you actually looked it up you could probably tell the area in which I grew up, but I don’t live there anymore so I don’t really care and I don’t feel like any of you would, like, look for my identity so it’s fine

so one summer day I was going to hang out with my friend and we wanted to do something fun. I’m like hey K, do you want to go to holy land? I know you’ve never been there before and it’s a cool place to look around (having been there once myself before

for those of you not native to connecticut, holy land usa is an abandoned christian theme park (no, I am not making this up). I won’t go into the whole history because that’s not the purpose of this post but you can read it here. there has been a murder or two there but it has in recent years been bought by a church and is now semi-maintained again (as in, it doesn’t count as trespassing anymore and they sometimes hold religious services by the 56 ft illuminated cross)

ANYWAYS so I drove us 30 minutes from where we lived to waterbury and just as we were about to pull in SOMEONE FUCKING CLOSED THE ROAD so nope, we couldn’t go :(

so we’re in the car driving back home, still wanting something semi-spooky so I’m like, hey, I’ve never seen fairfield hills (abandoned asylum) up close, why don’t we stop by and take a look???

so we drive there and park. now, it’s not especially spooky NOW because part of the huge complex has been, like, converted into community buildings (like a community center, rec center/gym, a fire house I think) because after an internationally known tragedy happened the community got a shit ton of money and they invested a lot of that into community resources

so we park near one of the still abandoned buildings and get out to walk around. mind you, it’s still 100% STILL FUCKING DAYLIGHT out.

we round the corner backed by woods and what do you know- there’s a hole in the fence and an open second story window. my friend and I look at each other like 👀👀👀 and decide, fuck it, let’s try it. yolo and all that

she boosts me up as far as she could and I used the outside little ledge (I wish I had a picture because this is a flex) and pull myself through the window. I then pull her up from the ground and get her in too.

we look around. we are somewhere in what used to look like some sort of wooden cubicles which were no longer really there. her phone is dead, we only have my phone flashlight, but it’s still sunny out and barely any of the windows are boarded up so it’s fine

we walk around, obviously people are in here frequently because there is graffiti EVERYWHERE, some wrappers, a few c*ndoms for some reason, I think maybe a needle or two (yikes). so like, it’s frequented but we didn’t think anyone was there with us

it wasn’t even really that spooky during the day (I would probably never go at night because 1. more of a chance other people would be there and I’m not going to risk possibly having a negative interaction yk, 2. I feel like more police would be patrolling it then, and 3. I’m not all that superstitious but I would never go there at night as a group of two)

we found what we assumed was an old rec room with a still mostly functional pool table (and an old dress in the window???), some bathrooms, an elevator stuck between floors, and some cool graffiti

we were in one of the stairwells with cool large windows when we saw a police car further away in the parking lot and went NOPE and continued down into the basement. aside from the little windows towards the ceiling it was PITCH BLACK and my tiny phone light did fucking NOTHING lmao.

we were able to get into the attic and I REALLY wanted to find out how to get into the bell tower but one of the doors was locked I think and we couldn’t find another way :(

all in all, I wish it was spookier but it couldn’t really get that spooky in the daylight, but I like that I can say that I did it because it’s a fun story. I would honestly love to go again now that I have lock pics and investigate some more but I don’t live there anymore

here are some pics and a video:

#abandoned asylum story #jackie talks #about me #yes the internationally known tragedy was sandy hook but I felt weird about putting it directly in the post #because I would have felt like that took away from the Vibe #lmao don’t ask me my opinion about guns unless you want a LONG ASS rant that shit happened the day after my thirteenth birthday it was awful #look up the history of holy land it’s wild lmao #also I didn’t include the picture but I realized in the car ride back home I had a small scratch that must have been from crawling out of #the window. the window was hella rusty and it could have been glass or something and the cut was tiny but like. paranoia #so long story short that’s how I remember when I most recently got my tetnus booster LMAO #I hinted to my dad that I might have done that and he was SOOOOO MAD LMAOOOOO #I brought part of a fabric picture I found back home but then remembered it might have #abestos so I threw it out lol #I want to go to a spookier one tbh #not leverage #asks #answered asks #nick nelson my beloved #mine

[rockethorse]

TS2 ideas for gift-giving Sims

So, I love having my Sims use the Seasons gift-giving function to give each other presents for birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, etc., but if the recipient Sim doesn’t really need anything, I often got stuck for ideas.

Then it occured to me - the gift can simply stay in their inventory forever! It doesn’t actually have to be something functional that they place on their own lot, so it doesn’t matter if it’s a duplicate, or if it doesn’t match their style, etc. Such a simple and obvoius realisation, but (and perhaps this makes me a humbug) I’d largely seen the ‘give a gift’ function as simply a means to transfer items I wanted to move between Sims and forgotten that, just like irl gift-giving, the thought is often more meaningful than the actual gift.

So let’s come up with some ideas for what kind of things Sims could gift each other! Of course, Sims will reject very cheap gifts if they have a low relationship, but if you’re just having family members swap gifts for the holidays, pretty much anything goes. It’s fun to consider both what the recipient would like as a gift vs what the gift-giver would think to get them - not everyone is a great gifter, after all!

Here are some potential gifts - add your own! I’m trying to stick to items found within the game but CC suggestions are great too.

Something Handmade

This is where crafting stations excel - the toy bench obviously makes perfect gifts for kids or parents (and dog owners, for the Water Wiggler), and the flower table provides great anniversary presents. The pottery wheel and sewing machine have something for anyone.

Paintings (or drawings, with the architect’s table, or photos from the antique camera) made by the gifter

BV photo prints or books the gifter had made for them

Home cooking! Anyone else remember the fruit cake your neighbours would drop off in TS1? A talented home cook could offer a layer cake, a pie, or some holiday cookies.

Home-grown Seasons produce and trays of juice

By Aspiration

Family: Commission a portrait or photo (or series of portraits/photos) of the Sim’s family and/or pets; SmartMilk; “Don’t Wake The Llama”

Fortune: Money; a money sack from a wish; a money tree; cologne; champagne; fancy souvenirs; pricy art; buried treasure; a really nice mahogany desk; extracted/clutter CC handbags, hats, watches or shoes; the counterfeiting machine (good "gag gift” that doesn’t have to be used)

Romance: Cologne; a vanity table; fancy candles; regift them some date bouquets for them to drop off with their next date; a Love Tub; some deco (or sewn) lingerie; this chair

Knowledge: A new bookshelf; a globe; a telescope; a spare dragon legend scroll or Bon Voyage map; a ReNuYu potion, even if they have no use for it; a fancy chess set

Popularity: A novelty house phone; a tanning bed/towel; a makeup palette; a bubble blower; a punch keg; an Apartment Life lapdog; some Cool Shades; some pool toys or an above-ground pool; a picnic basket

Pleasure Seeker: A beanbag; a bubble blower; a coffee machine; a boom box or jukebox; a noodle soother; a hammock; plants from the hydroponic grower

Grilled Cheese: Grilled cheese; the grilled cheese painting; grilled cheese; the grilled cheese recolour of the mini decorative easel that came with the IKEA stuff pack; grilled cheese

By Age Range

For Kids: Doll houses; play ovens; activity tables; toy chests; new pajamas (with the sewing machine); a funky lamp, clock or rug; a cute chair just for their room, like the ‘beanbag’ or bear chair; a trampoline; a lemonade stand; a hot cocoa maker; a paddling pool; the wall deco blackboard or height chart; a swing set; an antfarm or snowglobe; the cute little MySims figurines including the Witch craftable one; a racecar bed; a dog house because they’re getTING A PUPPY!!!!

From Kids: Kids may not be able to craft as many things as adults, but they can still paint, bake muffins, draw things on the activity table, fish and tend/harvest Seasons produce, and regift any treasures they dig up or find on hikes. With this modded pottery wheel, they can even sculpt clay!

Teens: A new computer for school/uni; a used car (or custom bike); handheld devices; posters for their walls; a mini-fridge; magazines; cologne; a bunch of home-made meals to take to college

Elders: A reclining chair; a coffee maker; those posters that look like they were drawn by toddlers; a nice rug; sculptures of cherubs or kittens or realistic sleeping babies or whatever else grannies like to keep around

For Hobby Enthusiasts

Sports: A signed jersey for their wall; a commemorative football; a sewn soccer jersey; the sports-themed drinks bar; a novelty plaque or trophy; a deco surfboard or snowboard

Games: RGB lights for their computer setup; “Myshuno”; mahjong; a pinball machine or arcade cabinet; a rare Void Critters card; a poker table; gamer fuel or a gaming chair

Fitness: A yoga mat; a blender; a sauna (big spender); some deco workout equipment or an exercise ball office chair; geodes, witchy crystal balls & salt lamps; deco gym shoe clutter or a gym bag

Cooking: Some new decorative cooking pots/pans; a cornucopia; freshly-caught fish (divisive); decorative plates; the wall-deco wine racks; a nectar bar; a tea set; canisters or oven mitts

Science: A deco molecule or microscope; a cheap telescope; an ant farm; space/alien posters; hanging planet light; a Thinking Cap

Art & Crafts: The poseable mini wooden Sim figure every irl artist gets gifted too and doesn’t know how to use; the deco books where the bookends are actually those statues; deco canvases; a new desk or table just for their crafting area; shelves; fabric bolts; yarn

Tinkering: RC cars; filing cabinets/organisers for the garage; deco tools; a crafting bench; a toy robot; Sir Bricks-a-Lot

Film & Literature: A new bookshelf; some decorative books; a novel; film posters; old film & TV props; a mini mecha figure; pillows to curl up & read on; a cozy lamp to read by; a typewriter

Nature: Lawn ornaments; house plants; planters; gardening tools (decorative or functional, such as sprinklers or a grow lamp); an aquarium; outdoor lights; camping chairs/tents etc and shade parasols; seedlings in planters higher-level than the recipient’s gardening badge; a small fountain for their yard

Music & Dance: A ballet barre and shoes; full-length mirrors; a new stereo or some speakers; a new or upgraded instrument (especially for the child-teen birthday); a disco ball; artist, tour, or album art poster prints; wall or floor CD racks; commemorative record wall hangings

If the gifting Sim is higher than the recipient Sim in a given hobby, they could give them a magazine!

By Relationship/Event

Dating: The teddy bear in a T-shirt sculpture; the IKEA heart plush; framed photo booth romantic photo; the groovy heart sculpture; a bouquet; a box of chocolates

Professional: A tasteful vase or trinket bowl; a nice desk or wall clock; an RC helicopter (for the boss who has everything); something for their cubicle like a bonsai tree, stationery, or an executive desk toy

Housewarming: A welcome mat; a useless plate people throw their keys in; an obnoxious sculpture or house plant they wouldn’t buy for themselves; Shelves For Things; a statement armchair; an actually tasteful rug; fresh produce; champagne, a nectar bar, or the deco wall wine rack; deco towels/towel warmer; a compost bin; the weird toilet paper gnome; a BBQ or fire pit (to take it quite literally) If the Sims are completely new to the neighbourhood, not just the house, their neighbours could gift them a cake or some other group meal as a way of welcoming them and introducing themselves.

Wedding: A framed photo of the couple; that one wall hanging with the two hands holding and all the handwritten notes; champagne; the wall-mounted deco plates set; an appliance nobody actually uses like a toaster oven or a food processor; matching “them & theirs” deck chairs, towels, etc; pushy baby stuff; something obnoxious that implies marriage is a prison (if heterosexual); a suitcase or luggage for their honeymoon; a photo booth, if you can give it to them before the wedding, for guests

Graduation: Some more deco plaques to really show off those extra certifications; more champagne or wine or juice or a bar or anything to help you forget; mounted mascot head; something related to their degree/future career; a sleek professional desk & chair ready for them to start work; restaurant vouchers because oops looks like job hunting is taking longer than expected; grandma’s comfort soup :’(

Now that you have all these ideas, why not get your Sims together for a random gift exchange? Whether it’s the whole town or just within a big family - challenge them (and yourself) to think about what each Sim would buy for their recipient, whether it matches up with what the recipient would want, and then see if the recipient accepts or trashes the gift! This is my favourite name-from-a-hat generator for this purpose since it does not require email signups or push wishlists, etc. while also allowing you to set certain exclusions (e.g. Sims cannot draw their own family members, their spouse, etc). You could even make it a white elephant - where each Sim is competing to give the worst gift (be wary if the gifting Sims don’t have a high relationship already!)

#TS2 #the sims 2

[meowww-ffxiv]

I wonder if Alphinaud and Alisaie finally got around to telling their parents about their adventures in person lol.

It wasn't like Meowdred didn't make his opinions of Old Sharlayan's way of doing things abundantly clear. The obvious disdain he displayed towards the country and the government Fourchenault had a huge part in was very annoying at times, particularly because Meowdred had a middle schooler's ability to Do Things That Hurt.

Such as writing a curt, succinct note of a formal request of information from the Studium on his starfaring effort DENYING IT, citing, "I have little interest sharing my knowledge with a nation which has a known and enduring habit of squirreling them away in the name of preservation, and who has not, since the salvation of this star, demonstrated they understand the difference between 'preservation' and 'conservation', the former which they perform fervently to a pointless end, the latter with whom they mistake the former for. No sane architect turns his river to pour into a stagnant pool."

And Fourchenault ALSO knew that Meowdred did that ON PURPOSE for the express reason of Starting Shit. Because Alphinaud told him JUST the week before that, "Mordred said the debate halls of the Studium are lacking in political fire, haha, isn't he so silly".

And that it worked.

The Studium and the Noumenon and the Last Stand were aflame for the better part of a month talking about the audacity of this bitch who, OK, he saved the star, but how dare he said these words about the nation of scholars. Etc. Etc. There were even whispers among the Forum members about how Meowdred Surana went too far.

Ameliance said she asked Meowdred about it. And he told her he did it because a) he meant what he wrote, and b) he was curious. Someone he really did not like once told him that people weren't really rational. That, when attacked, and over something that could be conceivably true, they would grow defensive and bullish instead of examining the criticism.

"Eorzea functions on a backbone of tribalism," Mordred told Ameliance. "Ours is a land of war and bloodshed. You versus us, unless it's you and me versus a different 'them'. We repeatedly choose these methods out of habit. Physical victory is to us the definition of sophistication, what you would decry as barbarity. To some extent, everywhere else in the star has something similar. But your nation is uniquely built on a different spine. You chose peace and rationality, and isolated yourselves from violent rhetorics. I wanted to know, to see for myself, how such rational and pacifistic people would react to something that would cause a predictable response among my people. Because, in many ways, Old Sharlayan is the hopeful future form of Eorzean societies, where bloodshed is only theoretical and not only rare but heinous."

It was a startlingly mercenary response, and Ameliance in her grace told him she hoped he wouldn't be disappointed with the result.

But Mordred told her it wasn't a pass/fail scenario. Whatever the result was, it would be valuable information. Besides, he would only be using a very immediate sample size that to be honest, was skewed against him. Because the request came from the Noumenon, therefore the people most likely to hear it were higher ranking members of their society, the Forum, and some rich nosy people who might already be scrutinizing him.

"How would the results be valuable to him, exactly?" Fourchenault asked at the dinner table, reluctantly intrigued about the newest wildfire this troublesome associate of his family had caused.

"Perhaps he wishes to help push for more reforms," Alphinaud said. "I hear he has been spending much time with the researchers of Labyrinthos? Surely he is sympathetic to whatever hardships and inconveniences they face."

"Mordred doesn't care about politics," Alisaie rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't mean he is blind to them," Alphinaud argued. "Why, he was the one who taught me the politics of Thanalan and La Noscea years ago."

"And I clearly remember you saying he was a stuck-up, mercenary, uncouth ruffian, dear brother--" she flicked her peas onto his plate.

"Alisaie," Fourchenault said disapprovingly, never mind that she was a young woman now.

"You should ask him sometimes," Ameliance said, helpfully spooning more peas onto her daughter's plate. "He seems the type to just answer, no?"

"That is true," Alisaie agreed. She shoved the peas to one side of her plate again, at least this time not in the direction of her brother's. "At the same time, Mordred can be quite tight-lipped by omission--"

Fourchenault poured himself some more wine. He wished this Warrior of Light would stop invading his family time like a vengeful ghost for just one dinner. Please.

#meowdred surana

[benjaminthewolfnsfw]

Whitesnake: Melt Your Heart, Melt Your Mind, Melt Your Body (Vore Story)

When I first saw that Whitesnake: Melt Your Heart scene in the anime, I immediately went to search up vore-related content inspired by it. I was positively flabbergasted, however, when I could not find anything at all. So, I decided to make some myself. Enjoy!

WARNING: GOOEY DIGESTION

(I think I am FINALLY getting a proper grasp on writing gooey digestion btw, so yeah, I am super happy about that!)

****

     “...Stone…Free…” Jolyne weakly called out, whilst desperately attempting to bring out her stand. Thanks in part to the bone that Emporio had previously given her, the newly transferred inmate had been able to escape the dream which Whitesnake, although currently unknown to Jolyne, had put her under, leaving her awake and well aware of the true nature of her true situation as a result. If she were unable to escape the visitation room soon, however, this would not remain the case for very long.

     As Jolyne’s remaining energy only continued to drop, the slimy, white, gurgling, acidic goop stuck to her body went on to melt even deeper into her skin, utterly engulfing the cells, and further depleting her ability to resist. The still unseen Whitesnake knew, however, that more important than preventing her resistance, was keeping Jolyne away from his target.

     Jotaro Kujo had met with his daughter inside the prison visitation room not even thirty minutes ago, and just like Jolyne, had unknowingly fallen within the trap of Whitesnake. Unlike Jolyne, however, Jotaro was yet to awaken, and as a result lay unconscious and unmoving on the other side of the table, utterly smothered with Whitesnake’s melting goo, and utterly unable to be reached.

     Jolyne heaved her breaths in and out as she once again attempted to use her stand. “...Stone…Free…” she practically choked on her own tightened throat as she extended her stand’s blue thread out over the table towards her sleeping father. Jolyne’s body, mind, and spirit strained profusely in accomplishing this task, causing her to clench her fist vigorously around Emporio’s bone in order to once again receive pain from its sharpness, in an attempt to block out her weariness. Finally, Stone Free became strung around Jotaro’s arm, leaving Jolyne with nothing else to do other than tighten the hold. If she could successfully do this, there was a significant chance that Jotaro would be snapped out of his dream, a chance which Jolyne knew she must clutch even harder than the bone.

     In the meantime, however, the gooey, white walls around the room, as well as the somehow still functioning light fixture hanging upon the ceiling, only continued to melt from the slimy digestive juices slathered generously across their form, dripping the goopy contents down towards the ground, where it subsequently started to pool. A light ambiance of growling and glorping positively enveloped the air around its occupants, whilst the temperature therein continuously rose slow and gently. A considerable glob of goop proceeded to plummet from the ceiling and land upon Jolyne’s back, just as her stand, Stone Free was finally able to cause Jotaro to start bleeding out. 

     “Ungh!” Jotaro grunted out in a disturbed, slightly startled tone.

     Jolyne, now that her father was awake, proceeded to release Stone Free from his arm, before causing the stand to disappear entirely into her body. She now needed to focus on getting the two of them out of the room, and in order to do that, Jotaro would first have to understand what was happening.

     “J-Jolyne…” Jotaro suddenly stammered out after taking a few seconds to reorient himself. “Is this reality?”

     Jolyne silently gave her dad a blink before responding. “I wish I could say that it wasn’t, but I can’t…this is in fact the real world.” she murmured softly in response.

     “I see…” Jotaro stoically replied in his usual deep tone. “Our stamina is being exhausted fast from this goo. I don’t know who or what is behind it, but it certainly isn’t Johngalli A.”

     Johngalli A., user of the stand Manhattan Transfer, had been using the thing’s aerodynamic sensory capabilities to track down Jolyne and Jotaro, so he may be able to line up a shot all the way in the men’s prison. They had become utterly straightforward pickings by this point, being ensconced deep within Whitesnake’s gooey, gurgling trap of a acidic-slime-coated visitation room, and both of the wakened victims knew from this fact that they needed to escape right away, in order to avoid this deathly fate.

     “Jolyne…” Jotaro’s voice slightly wavered from how drained the man was. “Can you bring out your stand…just a little?”

     Jolyne shakily bit down on her lower lip. “I…don’t know if I can…” she was ultimately forced to admit.

     Jotaro slowly gave a grunt of comprehension. “I see. Then in that case…” he eventually continued on whilst clenching his fists in determination and steadily bringing out Star Platinum.

     Jolyne was only able to watch as Star Platinum progressively became more and more solid, until at last, the stand was opaque enough to be able to interact with physical objects. Jolyne, having only become a stand user recently, was not entirely aware of this distinction quite yet. It was for that exact reason, then, that it came as even more of a surprise when Star Platinum finally made a move.

     “ORA!” Jotaro hollered out as his stand sent an utterly unhesitatingly brutal punch straight into Jolyne’s side, causing her to instantly get yeeted into the the visitation room door. Jotaro presumed that doing so would give the two of them an opportunity to escape, so they could finally get out of this prison. Rather unfortunately for them both, however, instead of also getting flung into hyperspace and leaving a great gap in its wake, the visitation room door simply stretched out like rubber, causing Jotaro to gasp from realization. 

     Successfully absorbing the impact as a result of this, the visitation room door then proceeded to fling back with a rather fine yeeting of its own. Bounding poor Jolyne all the way over to the other side of the room, the similar resulting impact upon the opposite wall left her splashing straight down into the goopy, liquid-covered floor, something which also appeared to be made of the same material as the walls.

     “Whatever or whoever is behind this…must have considered this before…” Jotaro finally commented whilst his daughter remained still in irritation.

     “....uuuuuuuurrrrrrgh…” Jolyne at last let out with a groan, as the relatively shallow pool of present goop began sloshing over onto her being. “Thank you, captain obvious! Now do you mind pulling me out of this gunk?”

     Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Jotaro once again began struggling to bring out Star Platinum, in order to rescue the fallen Jolyne. It wouldn’t take very long, however, before he was once again halted from his goal.

     “You’d be best holding onto your remaining sliver of strength, Jotaro Kujo.” an unknown voice suddenly spoke, their voice echoing around the chamber walls, all amidst the constant gurgles and growls. “And the same goes for you, as well, Jolyne.”

     “Unh-urng-STAR PLATINUM!” Jotaro immediately cried out, practically forcing himself to bring out his stand, in preparation for a coming fight.

     “...it seems that my master had heard correctly…” the voice responded quite calmly. “...you Joestars really are extremely stubborn when it comes to admitting defeat. Very well then, I suppose I shall just have to end this right now.”

     “...w-who are you?” Jolyne breathlessly asked, her lungs significantly struggling to take in yet another bout of precious air. “...and who is your master as well?”

     “Hmph. Well, I suppose if I am to bring the both of you to your deaths, it would only be fair for me to reveal my name.” there proceeded to be a slight pause, before the voice had made up their mind.

 "Listen well then, for my name is Whitesnake. My master’s identity, however, shall forever remain as a secret.”

     Jolyne’s strength continued to falter as the acidic goop around her continuously slathered her form.

     “J…Jolyne…” Jotaro attempted to heave out to his daughter.

     Jotaro was still desperate to find a means of escape, even as his body slumped down onto the desk. Star Platinum had completely disappeared by this point, and he was unsure if he could manage to even manage to bring out the stand anymore, with his energy rapidly depleting due to the goop. Still, Jotaro resolved to stay awake. He absolutely refused to give up until he knew that their options were zero. He had no doubt been in similar situations before, yet no matter how many battles he scoured, he still could not find an applicable answer.

     Jotaro’s attention would soon be snapped away from this search, however, as he suddenly felt something warm and slimy brushing up against his cheek. Instinctively diverting his eyes towards the side, Jotaro was suddenly jolted with yet another bout of realization.

     “...since when…” Jolyne mumbled out. “...since when did the room get so much smaller?”

     Poor Jotaro’s body went on to heat up significantly, partially due to the mortal terror that had been slowly seeping into his brain, and partially because of the natural warmth that was to be present inside where he knew they now were.

     “...no…Jolyne…look closer…” Jotaro feebly replied.

     Jolyne gave a subtle noise of confusion before gazing about her field of view. Almost immediately, she noticed what Jotaro had prior. 

     “...the walls…the walls…they’re not just dripping…” she immediately vocalized her thoughts despite her draining reserves. “...they’re…they’re…WAIT…W-WHERE’S THE DOOR?”

     It was right there and then,  within that singular moment, that everything finally clicked.

     “THIS IS…THIS IS A…WE’RE INSIDE OF A…” 

     The rapidly churning, soft walls proceeded to tighten in further and periodically slosh about its contents as Jolyne simply processed reality.

     “...so you’ve finally figured it out, haven’t you?” Whitesnake mockingly commented. “I hope you both understand, then, that there is no hope to escape from within me. Both of your bodies are now destined to melt down to gooey mush deep inside of my stomach. I highly suggest you lie down, now, and get out your final goodbyes.”

     The shifting, smoothened walls of Whitesnake’s heated, gurgling gut proceeded to tighten in even further, leaving hardly any room for Jotaro to lift up his head from his position onto the desk, and forcing the formerly shallow body of liquid that had been helping to digest Jolyne, to form into a considerably deeper swirling pool, leaving the poor woman without any room to breathe one could speak of. Her instincts kicking into overdrive as she vigorously raised up her head, Jolyne splattered the thing’s sopping form up against the slick, pillowy walls of the stomach, an action which proved to be the one to empty her energy.

     Jolyne was not even able to close her eyes before her body drifted into unconsciousness, leaving the gaze frozen and still with the deep-set horror and desperation of its formerly conscious, dying owner, full on display for her father. That was the moment when Jotaro finally caved in.

     “Rather wise decision there, Jotaro. Now you will go out in peace.” Whitesnake cooly addressed the poor man. “...and now, there is nothing in my way of doing this.”

     Squelching in slightly more in order to gain a slight grasp upon Jotaro’s unmoving left hand, Whitesnake went on to engulf the thing within the walls entirely.

     “It's much faster to do this from the head, but here, there’s no need to rush.”

     Whitesnake proceeded to focus with a rising sense of thrill in his being on bringing the disks out of Jotaro. Upon being able to sense two slim, cold, metallic objects lying against the walls of his stomach, he immediately gave a pleased smile.

     Without skipping a beat, Whitesnake began phasing the items through the rumbling layers of the chamber, before at last pulling them out the rest of the way with his fingers the moment that they could be seen upon the other side.

     “...at last…” the stand lamented to himself. “...at long last, they are mine in my grasp.”

     Heaving out a cathartic sigh as he readjusted himself against the form of the visitation room walls, Whitesnake gave a contented pat over his giant, bulging stomach, churning away his two victims whilst it casually rested upon folded legs.     

     “...and now…” Whitesnake continued on. “...there is only one single thing left to do.”

     Deep within the churning gut of the stand holding Jotaro and Jolyne’s bodies captive, the white, viscous stomach acid was finally able to melt down its prey unimpeded. Both of the Joestars’ gooey bodies were positively dripping forth cells and cloth by this point, the searing, sloshy acids seeping deep into their flesh. Layer after layer of skin, muscle, and blood became melted away and transformed by the slimy goo, breaking down the recognizable traits of their bodies as more and more slush of their cells pooled into the liquid contents of the stomach. 

     Even the metal and wood desk and chair which Jotaro had been laying upon weren’t safe from the brutality. The legs of the objects were barely able to hold themselves straight anymore, due to their structures melting down, ultimately causing themselves, as well as Jotaro himself, to take the deep plunge inside the sloshing pool as well. Now having joined with his daughter, Jotaro’s goopy body could hardly keep its own form intact as it continued to melt and fall apart. Finally, it simply collapsed upon itself and became a mere pile of mush. The multi-colored glob of cells and cloth were then broken further along with the equally as digested remains of Jolyne, swishing and swirling around inside the unforgiving chamber. 

     Eventually, however, nothing at all was still left. The only trace that remained of the two living humans locked inside the deathly trap of the stand Whitesnake was merely a homogenous, soupy, cellular chime.

     Rubbing both hands firmly across his protruding, growling gut, Whitesnake absorbed the disks back into a different part of his body, in order to ensure they were safe, before tranquility closing his eyes. Laying himself back against the wall with a smile, Whitesnake thus began the process of gleefully enjoying his prize. His prize that was the remnants of two of the formerly living descendants of Jonathan, churning helplessly away in his stomach. Able to impede the plans and progression of his stand master, Pucci, yet far more importantly, his stand master’s master of DIO, no more.

#soft vore #fatal vore #digestion #vore digestion #digestion vore #gooey digestion #same size vore #male pred #male prey #female prey #male predador #multiple prey #vore belly #unwilling vore #unwilling prey #vore story #vore stories #vore writing #v/ore #v.ore #v0re #v0r3 #vor3 #jjba vore #jojo vore

[wannabesewcrafty]

Throwing Caution to the Wind

Fandom: Debris (TV)

Notes: Fill for “68. Dancing with them” from this list by @emswritingprompts Inspired by the song “Fearless” by Taylor Swift and influenced by a few other things (after trying to write something for this prompt in different ways!)

The layers of tulle that lined the skirt of Finola’s black dress and gave it its fullness had scratched at her hands during the night. Still, she had loved the small crystals sewn here and there on the dress’ bodice and skirt, and she had managed to forget the minor irritation caused by the tulle for most of the dinner party that she and Bryan were just leaving. The party had been a political function, a fundraiser thrown by a strong supporter of Orbital’s work. Both Maddox and Ferris had stressed that they wanted as many of their agents there as possible. 

The partners had made conversation with the others at their table, ate good food, and drank even better champagne. After a suitable period of time, they had made their goodbyes and now began the walk to their car. The black SUV they usually drove for work had been traded in for a cream-colored coupe. Bryan had chosen it from the CIA’s motor pool, claiming it had “style.”

“Well, that was fun,” Finola said, her weary voice breaking the silence between them as they walked.

“Hey, it keeps us employed,” Bryan said with a sigh. It was a humid night in Washington DC, and he had parked at a lot within walking distance of the party’s location. He had already taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves and was now loosening his tie. In contrast with his gray suit, it was a deep green color that brought out his eyes.

“You were very…charismatic,” Jones remarked. She recalled how Bryan had charmed the other guests, telling funny stories and giving them easy smiles, making everyone around him feel comfortable and important. It was a skill and a talent, one she envied. “I wish I could be more like that,” she admitted.

He gave her a sidelong glance. “What’s stopping you?”

She shook her head, at a loss as to how to answer.

They arrived at their car, and Bryan opened the passenger door for Finola, but she only put her purse on her seat and closed the door again. He shot her a curious look as he lay his suit jacket on the backseat from the driver’s side of the car.

“Not ready to call it a night?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not yet.” His earlier question still rang in her ears. “What’s stopping you?” It made her want to do something reckless. Well, maybe not too reckless. She hurried around the hood of the car to Bryan and reached up to refasten his tie. “Dance with me,” she said breathlessly.

A smile crossed his face, but he held up a hand. “We’ll need music,” said Bryan. He got into the car and turned on the radio, turning the dial until soft music came through the speakers, then cranked up the volume and opened the windows as wide as they could go.

When he returned to her, he took her hands in his and they did a sort of shuffle on the pavement until the weather interrupted them. The humid air was suddenly broken by a light shower, rain falling on them in a gentle mist that made them give startled gasps of laughter as they came to a sudden stop.

Finola felt the rain dampening her hair and her dress before something else registered with her. “The car!” she cried with dismay, worried about the rain getting in through the open windows and ruining the leather upholstery.

“Forget the car.” Bryan stepped closer to her, placing one of her hands on his shoulder and laying one hand on her waist, keeping their remaining hands clasped together and raised in what Finola realized was the kind of posture people did in ballroom dances.

“I know you’re dying to ask,” he said as Finola watched him with surprise. “So, ask.”

“Okay. Where did you learn how to dance?”

“We have cotillions in Texas,” he explained. “I took lessons as a kid and then went to dances growing up.”

“I know this was my idea, but I’m pretty hopeless as a dancer,” she said. “I might step on your toes.”

“All you have to do is count. Just listen to the music, and...one...two...three,” he counted, leading them in a slow waltz. She moved with him, mirroring his steps, stepping backwards where he stepped forwards. He raised their arms to have her do a turn, and she smiled to herself as she completed a slow circle.

“There you go,” he said encouragingly as they fell back into the steps of the dance. The song soon came to an end, and they both came to a standstill. “We made it.”

She let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Now, I’m ready to call it a night.” Rainwater glistened off of the hair on top of Bryan’s head, making her grin and reach up to brush it away.

As they got back inside the relatively dry coupe, Bryan indicated their damp clothes. “We were going to ruin the seats anyway,” he pointed out. He pulled at his tie again, loosening the knot that Finola had tied.

“I’ll split the bill with you for repairs,” she offered.

“Deal. I’ll say I accidentally left the windows open. I don’t think they’d buy ‘dancing in a rainstorm’ as an excuse.”

“Yes, it’s an odd thing to do, isn’t it?” Even as she spoke, she couldn’t help smiling. “What a crazy idea.”

Bryan looked out the windshield, remembering how Finola had looked under the lights of the parking lot, the crystals on her dress winking like jewels in sunlight.

“Sometimes,” he said softly, “those are the best ones.”

#my fic #emswritingprompts #debris nbc #bryan x finola #brinola if you want it to be #more commentary in the tags #this attempt came together fairly quickly #but i spent some time in general with other unfinished drafts

[heartfucksmouth]

what is my dash today??

disappointing. that's what it is.

anyways, I spent half the day yesterday gluing back together a small blue and white ceramic dish from Finland that myles knocked off the counter. his mom used it as an ashtray for her pipe and they just got back from vacation last night.

it was almost dry and I was going to glue the two halves together today and I came out for coffee and noticed the clamps and elastic and everything else was on the table but the dish was gone. pretty sure his mom threw it away. oh. okay. guess I did all that for fucking nothing. I would have used it?

they are so fucking white-bread-white-conservative. just... so wasteful and lazy and ODD??? idk I've never seen people function this way, it's strange and infuriating to my soul.

like. I thought they would put veggie and fruit scraps in this Tupperware bc they composted (that's what I would do!) but HAHAHA no, they do it so the trash doesn't stink. they still bag it up and throw it out when it's full. THEY HAVE A GARDEN!!! they buy full-size plants and stick them in the ground. sigh. they've NEVER SAVED A SEED IN THEIR LIFE! girl, what are you doing. the amount of money you'd save. and the cooking. the cooking. but they insist they know better. okay. they think it's "so cute" that I tie my hair up so my curls dry better. just. weird shit. I've never felt so othered in my life - and I'm still considered white, but I have mixed heritage.

the racism-lite is ever present too. myles is thankfully not like them and neither was his brother. I texted myles bc I could hear our new neighbors across the street speaking Spanish and was like 😬 your parents are gonna love this! I'm gonna speak more Spanish just to irritate them. (I'm holding a grudge bc when we were in NH they very clearly left a swimming spot upon arrival bc of "salsa people" (almost everyone was of some Latin descent and speaking a different language and I was FURIOUS at them for being so blatantly racist. I can't believe myles had to utter the words "yeah, my parents won't go in the same water as them" UM GUESS THEY WONT GO IN THE POOL WITH ME THEN oh but I speak English and was born here.) They're the same way with Black people. if they're conservative and "white enough" they'll be nice enough to them though.

they suck the life out of this house. me and myles had such a nice weekend, just us and the dogs. they came home and the vibe went flat and dead.

wish I could get my own fucking place with myles and zazu but everything is shit and expensive. I'd rather leave the fucking country at this point.

it gets to the point where I get sick of watching TV/movies with only white people/English is spoken and I physically need to feed my soul something else. I have a Spanish (it might be Brazilian-Portuguese actually?) radio station saved in my pre-sets in my car bc I SIMPLY DONT WANT TO HEAR AMERICAN ENGLISH ANYMORE. this isn't to get a cookie lmao, I think I just get to a point where I'm furious and fed up because I haven't had to deal with this level of conservative republican mindset and be unable to escape it.

anyways whatever whatever I'm gonna go workout. which is me lifting a full water bottle bc EDS - but it's working!

#personal #this turned into a rant

[alex123456moralas]

Las Vegas Travel Guide

Sin City, America's Playground The Entertainment Capital of the World ... all good titles for the Nevada popular spot. Imagine Vegas as more of a theme park than an actual city. It can be awe-inspiring as it will overwhelm it, which is part of its appeal. In Vegas, inhibitions aren't welcome. At night, Las Vegas draws pleasure seekers to the brightly lit Strip as if moths are drawn to flames. Although you might not wish to go so far as reliving "The Hangover," you definitely don't want to leave without having a taste of "Viva Las Vegas."

Nowadays, Las Vegas can provide every kind of holiday you can think of. You can choose to go for the typical high-roller trip including all-nighters at the blackjack tables or TAO Nightclub. It is also possible to go all luxury by visiting spas in hotels as well as high-end shops and gourmet restaurants. Las Vegas is also an ideal starting to enjoy outdoor activities, like the ATV tour, hiking through Red Rock Canyon, or visiting the Hoover Dam via a helicopter tour or bus. It is also possible to bring your children along: Children will enjoy the excitement of a Cirque du Soleil performance, the Bellagio Fountain show, and The Neon Museum.

You can book your flights from Boston to Las Vegas with the Lowest Flight fares and enjoy a trip.

Best Hotels in Las Vegas

Four Seasons Hotel Las Vegas

The general consensus is that visitors appreciate the peace and tranquility of this tranquil oasis located on the Strip. It is the first luxury Las Vegas hotel that is a safe haven for gamblers. Even though the Four Seasons property sits on the top floor of Mandalay Bay's tower it also has its own elevators with express access and a separate check-in desk that is said to have one of the fastest (and most friendly) staff available. When you've stepped into the room you'll be greeted with art deco décor and flat-screen TVs with coffeemakers and stunning views that overlook The Las Vegas skyline. Many recent travelers complained that being on the south-facing part of the Strip is a way to stay away from the action however many guests enjoyed the quiet. In addition to its peaceful ambiance, the hotel offers an indoor pool spa, fitness center, and a restaurant on site, along with three bars. Additionally, guests can have access to Mandalay Bay's multitude of eateries and its pools. If you're traveling with children and children, you'll be pleased to know that the hotel has an array of amenities that are kid-friendly that include a welcome present and a menu for children at the restaurant on site. 

Encore at Wynn Las Vegas

Recent visitors gave the Encore casino top marks for the design, especially for the public areas and the lobby. The rooms have similar, but subtle features, gaining acclaim for their floor-to-ceiling windows, large layouts as well as overall cleanliness and maintenance. Rooms begin at 745 square feet and come with amenities like Wynn Dream Beds as well as bathrooms that have separate showers, tubs as well as flat-screen televisions. The Encore also delights guests with its friendly staff, however, some recent guests have expressed concern that the service wasn't as good as they would have liked considering the price and the reputation of the hotel. If you're not able to find an open spot at Encore look into its sister hotel, and its neighbor that is the Wynn Las Vegas. Because this hotel is part of Preferred Hotels & Resorts, I Prefer members can rack points and enjoy benefits here.

Best Things to Do in Las Vegas

The Strip

After you've passed by the well-known "Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas" sign on Las Vegas Boulevard South, it's not long before you're on the Strip. Sin City's most famous artery functions as the center of every Vegas trip. There, you'll find Las Vegas' most iconic landmarks, such as the Bellagio Fountains and the Eiffel Tower located in Paris, Las Vegas, the sphinx and the pyramid belonging to The Luxor, and The Venetian's Grand Canal. Travelers recommend that you go to the Strip at night to view the entire array of casinos and attractions illuminating the desert. You are able to stroll the Strip at any time of the evening or daytime however, keep in mind that different companies have their own hours of operation. Be aware of your environment (and the wallet) after dark. The best thing you can do is to lose your prize to a criminal. If you're looking for recommendations about where to stay along the Strip take a look at our guide to our recommendations for the Best Hotel located in Las Vegas.

*You can book your cheap flights from San Francisco to Ithaca with the Lowest Flight fares and enjoy a trip.

Bellagio Casino and Fountains

The Strip staple provides many ways to put your money down from slots and table games to a race or sports book. It is also the preferred casino of many high rollers due to its high-stakes table. Additionally, the casino is the host of events like the World Poker Tour, among other tournaments. The casino also has a fine art gallery and a 14,000-square-foot indoor botanical garden, in addition to a luxurious hotel as well as Cirque du Soleil's "O" show, luxury shops, a spa many nightlife venues, as well as numerous restaurants such as Wolfgang Puck's Spago as well as the Michelin-starred Picasso.

It's not necessary to pay to stroll around the Bellagio or enjoy its fountains or gardens However, you'll need cash to pay for restaurants bars, restaurants, and shops. Bellagio is open to visitors 24 hours a day. Bellagio can be enjoyed by guests throughout the day.

To take advantage of the low-cost flight tickets between cheap flights from Boston to Las Vegas, book your seat on American Airlines at a fare of USD 130 for a one-way journey as well as USD 271 for the round-trip. There are also numerous non-stop flights on this route, including Jetblue, Delta, and Spirit Airlines.

Las Vegas Travel Tips

Best Months to Visit

The ideal time to go to Las Vegas is from March through May and from September through November. While there are many offers on travel all year long, however, the fall and spring shoulder seasons are the best for moderate temperatures. Sin City welcomes an influx of visitors in the winter months, particularly around New Year's Eve, the Super Bowl, and Valentine's Day as well as the summer months which are characterized by temperatures reaching 100 degrees. Whatever time you decide to go to Vegas Try to schedule an excursion during the middle of the week - since this is a typical weekend getaway and you'll find more hotels for less money between Tuesday and Thursday.

Las Vegas is also home to numerous conventions each year, which could raise rates for rooms. Prior to deciding on your travel dates make sure you look up the city's tourism board convention schedule to determine the hotels that are hosting which events and when. This will assist you in negotiating the best rate at your preferred hotel.

How to Save Money in Las Vegas

Research There's no shortage of internet offers on flights or hotels, therefore you should be careful in planning your travel and reserve the spontaneity when you've checked in.

Don't drive and walk the Strip. Traffic on the Strip is awe-inspiring You'll be better off using public transportation or your own feet.

Stop yourself If you're feeling lucky However, there's an hour when the tables begin turning. Choose how much you're prepared to bet at casinos before you go to Vegas Make sure you're not gambling prior to Lady Luck robbing you blind.

Find a budget hotel There are many cheap hotels that are located in the downtown area or away from the city's center which is less expensive than those located on the Strip. Save money to book your cheap flight tickets at lowestflightfares.com at your best prices. 

What to Eat

There's one thing for sure there are plenty of food options in Las Vegas. You'll find everything from premium French cuisine to cheap hamburgers. The popularity of celebrity chefs took Las Vegas by storm, with some of the most well-known chefs, including Wolfgang Puck and Emeril Lagasse opening culinary establishments within Sin City. Furthermore, Las Vegas boasts more master sommeliers than Los Angeles and New York City together. It is possible to enjoy Chinese dishes in Wing Lei at the Encore at Wynn Las Vegas, indulge in Wagyu beef at Bazaar Meat by Jose Andres at the Sahara, and savor Italian food with a view of the Bellagio's Fountain show on the rooftop of LAGO from Julian Serrano.

While some of the most famous restaurants on the Strip have expensive prices however, you do not have to shell out a lot of money to have a great meal. Sin City caters to foodies of all budgets. Sin City is well-known as the king of the buffet that you can eat all day that offers food options that include everything from pizza to Chinese and crabs to a variety of seafood to gluten-free dishes. There's even a top Taco Bell restaurant that serves alcohol-free drinks and beer on the frozen menu. Whatever you're in the mood for there's a good chance you'll find it in one of the buffets that line the Strip and you'll be hungry. Foodie tours are another excellent option to taste a range of cuisines at a very low cost.

Safety

If you're smart, and you exercise the rules of common sense, your time in Las Vegas should remain safe and enjoyable. In terms of safety in the picture, it is recommended to be extra cautious when walking along the Strip or at the casino. Cash and alcohol can go wild frequently putting gamblers in dangerous situations. Be careful not to drink too much and keep the money from attracting unwanted attention. When you're on the Strip Don't walk on your own at night, be aware of the traffic and obey all street signs and laws applicable. It is recommended that you follow the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department gives more advice on its website.

Getting Around Las Vegas

The best method to travel to Las Vegas is by taxis or ride-hailing services such as Uber or Lyft or via bus. There is a bus service called the Regional Transportation Commission of Southern Nevada (RTC) provides buses all day, every day of the week across the Strip and in the downtown area offering affordable, easy transport. If you're located on the Strip it is possible to use the Monorail is a fast way to get to a variety of casinos on the Strip including Harrah's Las Vegas, the MGM Grand, and Harrah's Las Vegas. If you prefer walking then you'll have no problem finding the majority of Vegas the top activities, but it is recommended to carry lots of sunblock and water in order to keep from suffering from heat stroke.

For getting to and from the Harry Reid International Airport (LAS) located about 10 minutes to the east of the Strip there are many alternatives. You can choose to take taxis, take advantage of an app for ride-hailing, or, for a less expensive trip, take shuttle buses or the public bus. RTC shuttle buses and companies provide services from terminals three and one. Car rentals are also offered from the Airport (and all over Las Vegas), but not if you're planning to travel toward Hoover Dam or the Grand Canyon, you should consider a shuttle bus instead. Hoover Dam or the Grand Canyon it is recommended to opt to use a different method of transport. Traffic on the Strip is a nightmare and parking is limited and costly. Additionally, many of the most popular Las Vegas tours provide transportation from the Strip to local landmarks such as Hoover Dam, Hoover Dam or the Grand Canyon in case you don't want to drive. Helicopter tours are an amazing way to experience the natural wonders of the area or get an aerial view of the Strip's dazzling night-time lights. ATV tours are similarly different ways to view the desert landscape around you.

#lff #lowestflightfare #holidays #visit #explorepage #exploremore #travelgram #travelindustry #funactivities #fun #facts #travelguide #guide #flights #cheapflights #siteseeing #exploringthecity #travelpics #traveldiaries #travelbug #TravelAwesome #travelpic #travellers

[summerlandwatertank]

How Much Chlorine Should I Put in a Storage Tank to Kill Bacteria?

Chlorine is a low-cost and efficient chemical for sanitizing water storage tanks. We are frequently asked, "How much chlorine is required to treat water?" How much chlorine bleach should I put in my tank?

Using the tables below, you may determine how much Chlorine Bleach is required to disinfect and cleanse particular amounts of water, such as 1,000 gallons. On this page, we will discuss the chlorine-to-water ratio and how much chlorine to add to drinking water. If your tank is new, has just been worked on, or you suspect it is polluted, execute a "shock chlorination" with 50 to 100 parts per million (PPM) and leave it for 12 to 24 hours.

The chlorine levels will begin to fall after you apply the chlorine. Chlorine is consumed and degraded based on the chlorine demand (the chemistry and conditions of your water) and the temperature of the water. After 24 hours, test the chlorine residual and repeat the operation if the chlorine levels are 10 PPM or less. Use a maintenance residual of 1 - 2 PPM if you are storing water and wish to preserve a chlorine residual for safety. If you intend to retain a chlorine residual for potable water consumption, a chlorine residual of 1 to 2 PPM is advised. Follow these steps and consult the chart below to determine how much chlorine bleach to use to attain these residuals.

 ·       Step 1: First, clean the storage tank.

Ensure that the storage tank or reservoir is clean. Remove any debris and clean or hose off any dirt, deposits, or interior surfaces. If feasible, pump the water to eliminate any suspended sediments or foreign substances.

·       Step 2: Apply a Potent Chlorine Solution

Scrub the inside surfaces of the storage or reservoir with a strong chlorine solution of 12-gallon home bleach or 14-gallon pool chlorine for every 5 gallons of water, if feasible. Ascertain that there is enough ventilation. Closed places are hazardous and can result in disease or death.

·       Step 3: Examine for Damages

Examine the storage tank for cracks, leaks around the lid or man-way, and vents. By making sure the lid is tight-fitting and any vents are properly screened, you can ensure that no insects, rodents, or other detritus may enter the tank during regular functioning of the tank and water system.

·    Step 4: Apply Bleach

If you're using pool chlorine (12 percent sodium hypochlorite), cut the doses in half.

·       Step 5: Empty and flush the tank.

If utilizing these greater quantities of chlorine, drain and cleanse the tank. Do not dump chlorine-contaminated water into drains leading to septic tanks, and avoid discharge into creeks, rivers, or lakes. If you have a steel storage tank, be cautious since corrosion may have happened over time, and once cleaned, the tank may develop leaks.

 A basic rule of thumb for shock chlorinating and disinfecting a storage tank is to mix 1 gallon of non-scented NSF-approved household bleach (5.25 percent chlorine) in the reservoir for every 1,000 gallons of water (i.e., 1 quart for every 250 gallons of water). This results in a chlorine concentration of 50 ppm, significantly greater than the 0.5 to 2.0 PPM found in treated city water, and renders the water unfit for potable use until the residual decreases below 4.0 PPM.

For well-fed storage tanks or cisterns, add bleach directly to the storage tank while also sanitizing the well. Allow the storage tank to empties into the distribution system. After 12 to 24 hours, discharge the storage tank using a drain valve or the distribution system. Chlorinated water should not be disposed of in a farm storage water tank, on plants, or in surface water.

#Water Storage Tanks #watertankcleaning