all i do is try, try, try.

saratha "sara" iyer. 29. she/her. miniature artist. follow @saramakesminis on etsy, instagram and tiktok!

[sara-iyer]

Name: Saratha “Sara” Iyer Nicknames: Sara, Sar Faceclaim: Simone Ashley Age / Birthday: 29 / January 31, 1996 Gender / Pronouns: Cis woman / She/Her Hometown: Deer Park, New York Occupation: Miniature Artist District of Residence: Ridgeview Heights Time in Blackstone Ridge: Early February 2025 (5 months as of July)

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(warnings: death, alcoholism, emotional abuse, medical misogyny, racism, prescription drug use)

CHARACTER QUESTIONS

What is the one place your muse feels most at home, and what does this place mean to them?

At a gallery or a workshop. It doesn’t even have to be one of her own spaces! It could be a complete stranger at work. Because seeing someone’s process, or works in progress, or a finished product? That’s her happy place. That’s where she feels understood. Comfortable. Seen. The art speaks for itself. It becomes easier to understand people through the art they create. It becomes easier to understand herself that way - introspection and emotional connection come easy for Sara when it comes to art and design and creation. All the clichés about art and artists are true, especially where it concerns her. It’s a great way for her to connect to people, to her own humanity, to life at large.

Long Island doesn’t feel like home anymore, and Blackstone Ridge doesn’t feel like home at all (at least, not yet) – so Sara finds home in art. Not in people, but art. In artists (there’s a clear distinction for her, okay?). And hopefully these things can bridge the gap to finding a physical ‘home’, or finding ‘home’ in a person again. Hopefully the right person this time.

If your muse is not native to Blackstone Ridge, what brings your muse to Blackstone Ridge?

It’s always love, isn’t it? Saratha’s (now ex) girlfriend, Isabel, grew up in Blackstone Ridge. Her work was mobile, and Izzy’s mom got sick, so what else were they supposed to do? So they moved from their tiny shoebox apartment in Brooklyn and found an equally small, yet slightly more rundown place in Ridgeview Heights. As long as Sara had enough space to work on her art, she was happy. “Happy”.

The relationship wasn’t the best, even before the big move across state lines. Like Sara’s father, Izzy liked to drink. And she liked to drink to excess, and never thought anything of it. It was problematic, of course, but even without alcohol Izzy could be described as emotionally abusive. The same dismissiveness and invalidation that Sara got from her father, and from every healthcare professional she met - she also got it from Izzy.

They’d been friends for a few years before the relationship turned romantic. The friendship was a lot of give (Sara) and take (Izzy), and when they officially became girlfriends that surprisingly/unsurprisingly didn’t change. There was a lot of gaslighting on Izzy’s part. Around alcohol, around Sara’s health issues, around work. She’d hit her with the silent treatment frequently, playing on Sara’s abandonment issues. It’d be like walking on eggshells; not wanting to upset Izzy, not wanting to say the wrong thing to set her off. And there was a lot of lying and negativity, a lot of putting Sara down. By no means was Sara perfect – but she was the clear victim in their dynamic.

Sara was part-time carer for Izzy’s mom for the 3 months they were together in Blackstone Ridge. Early dementia. Even that wasn’t good enough for Izzy, apparently. And even though Sara loved her mom, and it was hardest of all to have to say goodbye to her, ultimately Sara chose herself and worked up the courage to break off the relationship.

Sara’s name was the one on the lease, so Izzy (unemployed) was the one to move out. She’s not sure where she went - back with her mom, maybe? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sara was free of her.

It was a hard break-up. The time she’d spent in Blackstone Ridge was isolating – the first 3 months with Izzy, she didn’t go many places besides Izzy’s mom’s, the store and their house. And it took a month of recharging, isolating in bed and caring for herself and her health before she felt like she could leave the house and try to start anew.

The thought of moving back to New York did occur to her. But Brooklyn was expensive nowadays. More expensive than Blackstone Ridge was, at least. And she couldn’t bear the thought of moving back in with her dad and bouncing from one alcoholic to another. She didn’t want to interrupt her sister’s life, either (even though her sister was “thrilled” and “relieved” when she heard the news of the break-up). Moving, in general, cost so much money! Sara had found a good pain specialist in town – for right now, that professional relationship and the relationship she had with herself in the aftermath of this awful break-up was the most important thing for her, moving forward.

What is your muse’s relationship with their family like?

Ruptured. Her mom died from an aneurysm a month before her 5th birthday. The week before Christmas, too – if you need some extra context as to why Saratha is a complete and total Grinch during the holidays. And that’s the only thing she really remembers about her mom. That Christmas, and how hard her dad tried to keep it light and festive despite nursing a beer bottle at 7 o’clock in the morning. The presents were poorly wrapped – multiple layers of ripped wrapping paper, ribbons stuck off-centre on the top. Her dad didn’t know which presents were for her, or for her little sister, Ananya, so there were no cards or name labels attached. It must’ve been one of the last things her mom did before she died. The Christmas shopping. Her dad didn’t know the difference.

The alcoholism had been there with her dad before her mom had passed, and only increased once she was gone. Whatever abandonment issues she gained from her mom dying too early, it doubled with her dad: still around but completely emotionally absent. He fed them, he bathed them, he made sure they got to school. For the first few years, anyway. Adolescence didn’t just mean puberty for Sara, but newfound household responsibilities. She learned how to cook the basics, learned how to do the washing, learned how to bleach the toilets after a hard night of drinking for her father.  She took on a maternal role for Ananya, 2 years younger and with no memories of their mom at all. At least Sara had Christmas.

(Fun fact: River by Joni Mitchell is her favourite Christmas song).

She stayed at home in Deer Park, NY with her father and her sister for as long as possible. She went to college at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn and never looked back. Long Island wasn’t very far away to visit, but when her body pain turned into something chronic, and then Fibromyalgia when she could finally get a doctor to diagnose her, it gave her a reason (an excuse?) not to make the trip back home as much. If at all.

They talk over Messenger. FaceTime sometimes. Her dad being a “functional” alcoholic makes it easier just to text. He can hide it over text. And it’s a trigger for her now. Alcoholism. She refuses to be around it if she can help it.

At the very least, though, Saratha talks to Ananya online multiple times a week. They’re close as can be with the physical distance between them.

Describe your muse’s highest high or lowest low so far in their life.

Her health has been a major challenge, especially throughout her 20s. Saratha was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in her sophomore year of high school. It wasn’t exactly something her father would understand – he was an alcoholic in denial, with no self-awareness whatsoever. So, she paid for her own medication, she worked part-time at the local cinema to pay to see a psychologist every couple of weeks, she tried hard to keep herself together. And she had physical pain her entire life. Her back feeling like it was going to snap in two like a twig, her hips always swollen and aching, her feet constantly feeling like they were going to give out on her. It would hurt to even brush her teeth, most days, let alone do the work and art that she loved. Everything hurt, and everything hurt all the time. She told her dad that it wasn’t normal to feel like this, and he’d brush her off every time. It’s just growing pains. But even those - that unbearable stretching feeling behind her knees - were not normal.

Being a woman is difficult enough as it is to be heard, especially in medical spaces. But being a dark-skinned Indian woman? It was impossible to get anybody to take her or her pain seriously. She was dismissed, invalidated, ridiculed. Made to feel like she was crazy and making it up, or a drug addict who was seeking. It was humiliating. Dehumanising. Her interactions with the healthcare system have been traumatising. It’s hard enough to be in daily, debilitating pain, but to receive no sort of support? No help?

One doctor, a Rheumatologist, finally took her seriously, and she finally got a Fibromyalgia diagnosis in 2022. That doesn’t mean it still hasn’t been hard, because it has. Fibromyalgia comes with its own hardships in the healthcare system, unfortunately! It’s all in your head. It’s not a real diagnosis. You’re just drug seeking. The shaming and dismissiveness never end! Even with a diagnosis given by a specialist! The medical misogyny and racism are evident in almost every healthcare interaction she has.

It’s been hard to drown out all the negative noise, and even harder for her to trust doctors or healthcare professionals now. It’s just given her more things to work on in therapy! Telemedicine has made it easy to keep online appointments with her Rheumatologist in New York, and she’s found an amazing local pain specialist in Blackstone Ridge that’s kept her in town past her break-up with her ex. Wintertime in Texas should be easier on her joints, at least. And Christmas away from New York should be better, too.

CHARACTER TRAITS

+ Self-aware, Intelligent, Caring, Dedicated, Honorable

- Clumsy, Needy, Emotional, Judgmental, Overly apologetic (trauma response!)

ADDITIONAL CHARACTER INFORMATION

Her handle is @saramakesminis on Etsy, Instagram and TikTok. (This is fake, but let’s just pretend!) She makes some good side money posting her miniature art content on these platforms.

Sara is her preferred name. Saratha is exclusively what her father calls her.

Her name is pronounced like Sar-arth-a, or Sar-a; not how you would usually pronounce Sarah/Cera. Emphasis on the “ar”.

Anxiety, Depression, Complex Trauma and Fibromyalgia are her official medical diagnoses. She sees a Rheumatologist (in NY via Telemedicine), a Psychologist (same as previous) and a Pain Specialist (in-person at Parker County Hospital).

Before July 2025, Sara had never owned a pet in her life! She adopted a blue French Bulldog puppy named Greg from Parker County Shelter.

Sara refuses to drink alcohol for 3 reasons. 1) Her dad, 2) her ex, 3) her pain medication and antidepressants. She will drink maybe once a year. Usually around Christmas time (for obvious reasons).

Sara does, however, smoke weed sometimes for pain relief.

She takes a dose of slow-release morphine every day to treat her Fibromyalgia. When she is having a flare up, she has access to immediate-release morphine to take in addition to her daily dose.

Sara identifies as bisexual or queer. In the past, she has only dated or been in relationships with women or non-binary people. She likes men in theory… But fictional men just seem so much better than the real thing! As of right now, she has never been with a man romantically or sexually.

There's a lot of internalised (and externalised, let's be real) biphobia that Sara experiences. Hence why sometimes she will answer or identify as 'queer' if someone asks.

Sara has a Bachelor of Fine Arts (Emphasis in Sculpture & Integrated Practices) from the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, NY. It was a four-year degree. You can read more about the degree here.

Sara’s favourite movie growing up was 13 Going on 30, and it has informed a lot of her life choices. She loved fashion because of it, and originally wanted to be a magazine writer growing up like Jenna was in the movie. As a pre-teen, she tried over and over to make a replica of the dollhouse from the movie, and because of it, she got into miniature art and sculpting!  

Now making miniature art pieces and sculptures is her full-time job. She makes anything from dollhouses to mock film set designs and building exteriors. You can view some of her work here.

Sara has a black outline of a sunflower tattooed on her left forearm, and a black outline of the dollhouse from 13 Going on 30 tattooed on her right forearm.

Sunflowers are the symbol for hidden disabilities. When Sara is out and about, sometimes she will wear a Sunflower lanyard to alert people to be extra patient with her.

Sara always carries a pouch in her bag that has extra medications (both slow and immediate release), some Tylenol, chapstick, a phone charger, hand sanitiser and a bottle of Deep Heat.

As mentioned, Sara loves fashion. She loves doing her make-up, dressing up nice and taking photos, and curling over her already-messy curls with any sort of styling tool. She also loves buying and using different purses and bags. View her growing collection here.

She grew up obsessively reading all the trashy teen girl magazines, doing all the quizzes, reading through the sealed sections over and over. Without having a mom around, it definitely helped her through her teenage years.

Sara danced throughout childhood and her teenage years (jazz, hip-hop, contemporary and tap) and only stopped when the pain from her (then undiagnosed) Fibromyalgia made it hard to continue. Her sister, Ananya, still dances to this day.

If you would like to view the full HQ version of Sara's Instagram grid, click here.

MEETING / STARTER IDEAS

Your muse asking Sara what her Sunflower lanyard means - at any location.

Your muse buying one of Sara’s miniature art pieces online and Sara delivering it to them in person - at any location.

Running into each other at Parker County Community Center. Sara would be there to scope out the space to see if it would be good to display some of her miniature art there!

Your muse seeing Sara struggle eating Texas BBQ for the first time at Boulevard BBQ.

Our muses going bowling together at Cottonwood Lanes. Other ideas involve one of our muses accidentally throwing their bowling ball into the other's lane, breaking a bumper, slipping over once they put their regular shoes back on, or anything else you have in mind.

Our muses helping an NPC who almost drowned at Lake Blackstone and striking up a conversation afterward.

One of our muses dropping a smoothie and being super embarrassed about it at Smooth(ie) Serenity.

Your muse seeing Sara struggling with her pain levels after a dance class at Studio 5-6-7-8.

Our muses breaking something on accident at Second Chances. *Taemin Lee, but can still be used again because Sara is clumsy af

Our muses being the only patrons of Peach's Diner at some obscene hour in the middle of the night. *Key Gupta, but can still be used again

Sara goes to in-person appointments at Parker County Hospital to see her pain specialist. Our muses could run into each other before or after one of her appointments? Spill something on each other in the cafeteria? Moan about the price of parking while waiting at the ticket machine in the hospital parking lot? *Billy Klein, but can still be used again

Sara needs supplies for her work, and so she frequents Dale Hardware. Our muses could be stuck waiting to pay and strike up a conversation, break something in one of the aisles, maybe witness another stranger have a medical emergency that our muses take part of? *JC Jimenez Thorn, but can still be used again

Our muses getting a tattoo together or coincidentally at the same time at Altered Ego Tattoo. *Toby Jarvis

I think after her awful break-up that Sara deserves to adopt a puppy at Parker County Shelter! Is your muse also looking? *Corey Jensen

Sara’s exercise regime consists of walking and stretching due to her Fibromyalgia. But she’s currently in her fresh start era and could give Heavyweight Fitness a try. My immediate thought was someone staring at her Sunflower lanyard, or someone making rude comments about how slow she’s taking the equipment. Maybe your muse intervenes? *Aslan Demirci

Horse therapy is meant to be incredible! Our muses could meet and ride horses at Golden Oaks Performance Horses. *Beck Tatum

Your muse judging/celebrating/chiming in when Sara asks the owner of Vinyl Destination if they have a copy of Tate McRae’s “So Close To What” album in stock. *Harry Jackson

Feel free to DM me here or on Discord if you have any other ideas you want to discuss! 

[sara-iyer]

Hey ya’ll! I’ve unfortunately made the decision to leave the rp. I have to protect my peace and mental health, and I cannot do that in a place where I am constantly being attacked and disrespected by the leader of the group. Nobody should ever have their mental health weaponised against them, and nobody should ever have to go unheard.

I wish you all the best in the future. I had a great time writing with you all and that’s what rp should be about! Remember that!

Much love,

Amanda ❤️

[coreyjensen]

Corey knew they could be dramatic sometimes, have their moody little outbursts. They didn't usually shy away from conflict, words too strong and harsh a lot of the time. They did their best to stay calm for Charlie, for the people using the public dog park, for Sara, even. Corey was pissed at what she had done with the information they'd given her, but her heart was in the right place. It didn't need to be a big thing. It didn't need to be like this.

"This is just... a stupid mess," Corey sighed, grounding themselves by playing with Bruin's pointy ears, scratching over the back of them and down the fur on the back of his neck. "I just wanna move on. That's it. I said what I was feeling, and you apologized, and we're over it. I'm not a grudge-holder." They definitely could, under the right circumstances, but this wasn't one of those moments. It was a waste of energy. "Thanks," they answered as she complimented Bruin. He really was the best. "I appreciate it. Just, uh, take care of yourself," Corey said.

They stood again, long legs stretching out, and regardless of who else was in the park, they stepped closer to Charlie to slip their arms around her, finding a little bit of comfort in having her there. "I'm sorry," they murmured again, planting a kiss to her temple. "Sorry you have to deal with this. How about we just chill here and let Bru play for a while, then we can go?"

[charlottexmiller]

at this point it just seemed as if they all wanted to move on. people had said their pieces and that was that. as much as charlie liked to portray the perfect image, she knew she was far from it and she was petty enough to hold a small grudge when she felt people had crossed a line with her in a way that she didn't like. she'd move on eventually, she just needed space. she wouldn't be nasty or immature, just kept her distance. being in an industry that looks for every reason to tear you down, she kept herself and her private life extremely guarded, now more than ever and if that got people's panties in a twist, so be it. they didn't know or understand what her life was like.

charlie wasn't sure she had anything left to say to the other woman at this point, all she could offer was a tight lipped smile as she confirmed their secret was safe. "your dog is very cute too." she mentioned quickly as the two dogs interacted in front of them before sara turned to walk away leaving the two of them there.

as corey slipped their arms around her, she leaned back against their body, looking out at the park, "i don't think that went very well," she breathed out, trying to let the interaction go. "it's fine," charlie said brushing it off, but was it? were there other people corey had dated she was going to have to deal with? in a way, the longer she had let the affair go on, she felt partly responsible but it was none of her business. "that sounds like a good plan, it might wear him out for the afternoon. we could get him a pup cup on the way home," she smiled, watching bruin run out to the other dogs playfully.

[sara-iyer]

[bensalahyosh]

[benitoxherrera]

Benny knew the second Sara started to speak that he'd crossed a line, and he mentally kicked himself over it. He hadn't meant to take it there, and he sure as hell wasn't about to get caught up in some kind of pissing contest with a stranger about what kind of man he was—or what kind of woman she was or wasn't. He stood in front of Sara quietly, face completely void of any expression as she spoke, giving her the opportunity to say her piece. When she put her hands on her hips, he lifted his own in surrender, sighing softly. "Okay, time out," he said, "I shouldn't have gone there. You're right, that was shitty of me. I don't know you, but you sure as hell don't know me either." Benny slid his hands into the front pocket of his jeans, shifting his weight to one leg. "I won't try and make excuses for losing my cool, because that's not goin' to fix it. I reacted poorly because I've gotten that statement a time or two from people who didn't mean it as a joke, and that's outta line."

Benny cleared his throat, wondering how she'd take what he was saying. It didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, he supposed, because Sara wasn't someone he'd have regular run-ins with. But that wasn't the point, not for Benny. He was very careful with how he treated women, and the way he'd snapped at Sara was something he'd never wanted to do. "You don't have to believe me, but I'm not that kind of guy. In fact, I fuckin' hate that kind of guy. It's just been a shitty day so I lost my cool, but I promise, I won't do that again." He was man enough to admit he'd made a mistake when it came to something this serious, but Sara didn't know that.

Running a hand through his hair, Benny decided to take a risky move with Sara, and he hoped it would pay off in the long run. After all, he'd spent years behind the bar hearing everyone's sob stories, letting people unload on him whenever they felt like they could, but he didn't often invite them to do it. He sure as shit didn't participate, either. "Look, you don't owe me shit, but why don't you take a seat and we can get to know each other? Maybe you'll see that I'm not the guy you're thinkin' I am right about now, or hell, maybe I'll prove you right. Either way, the door's right there and you can go whenever you want. I'm not tryin' to sweeten the pot or anything here, but trust me when I say that's an offer nobody else has ever gotten, so it might be worth takin'... At least for a little bit?" His voice was soft, not at all trying to persuade her one way or the other with any kind of flirtation or grumpiness. If anything, it was a lot like the voice he'd use with his sister when they really got down to the heart of things, and few people had ever heard it come from him around this town.

[sara-iyer]

Okay, time out, Benny said, palms up and yielding. Sara relaxed her posture, a little, leaning back against the edge of the desk because the sex had been tiring, and so had her dart injury, and so had his speech. He didn't exactly apologize - not once did he utter the words 'I'm sorry' - but he still somehow took accountability for his words and behavior. I shouldn't have gone there. You're right, that was shitty of me. I don't know you, but you sure as hell don't know me either. Sara nodded. Probably could've gone without that last sentence, because she'd never said anything about knowing him or who he was. He'd been the one to do that, and she'd reacted accordingly. Judged him for his words, maybe. But if he didn't want her to do that, then it would've been more effective for him not to have given her a whole speech dressing her down. Clearly projecting. Sara was glad the encounter had taken another turn and that he'd owned up to losing his cool, though. Admitting you were wrong and flawed was a sign of emotional intelligence, and she appreciated that.

Apparently he had past baggage about people telling him and here I thought I was someone special as something other than a joke. And that's outta line. Sara nodded again, giving him the freedom and space to talk. Explain himself. Out of line of the already established boundaries, sure, she could agree with his thinking, but they hadn't even had that 'til after the sex had already happened, and she had said it and meant it as a joke. She hadn't given him any indication that she was upset, or angry at him. She'd made the joke because he'd made it so awkward, immediately trying to lay down the law as soon as they'd both finished. Sara was still stark naked when he tried to set his boundary, and it just felt out of sorts. Like maybe he should've told her that before they took each other's clothes off, but whatever. He was still a man at the end of the day, and one that clearly had his issues. It seemed unfair to lash out at her for that, though, and leave the weight of his own personal problems on her shoulders. She was, however, happy to let it go. He'd taken accountability and sorta apologized. It was much more than a lot of other people could say or do.

"I was joking. Just so we're clear." Had it not been obvious when she'd also made a joke about how skilled he was at sex, or about not making it sound so transactional, or thanking him for looking after her in more ways than one? Benny admittedly had a shitty day. Sara glanced down at her dart wound and blinked. Talk about a shitty day. She literally had a diagnosis of complex trauma and anxiety and depression and still didn't talk to people the way he'd talked to her. While the sex had helped her, it clearly hadn't helped him. That must've been what happened when you were the kind of guy who does this a lot, huh? She wasn't going to take it personally. If his explanation told her anything, it was that. He clearly had some things he had to work through, and none of them had anything to do with her. "I appreciate you saying that." She said, being deliberate with her words - she couldn't exactly thank him for an apology he didn't give. But she'd take what he had given her, anyway. He promised not to do it again, and as long as he held true to that, she didn't have a problem with him.

Despite everything he'd said, apparently Sara actually was special, 'cos Benny had made her an offer that nobody else has ever gotten before. Invited her to take a seat so they could get to know each other without all the heightened emotions and tension. Sara shrugged, dropping back down into the office's armchair like she had before they'd had sex. "You did say before that you're an open book and that I could ask you anything I wanted." She pointed at him with a playful finger, jogging his memory. At this point, Sara wasn't really sure if he'd meant it or if it was just something he said to her in the heat of the moment. So far, from what she'd seen, pre and post-sex Benny were different beasts. "You might as well tell me about these people who made the same joke that I did but meant it. What happened there?" She asked, eyebrows raising with the corner of her lips. "And tell me what you have against romance? Or dating, I guess. And just to preface that: I'm asking purely because I'm curious, not because I want that from you. Maybe my head went there before you set your boundary, but not anymore." Sara waved a hand, overexplaining so he didn't potentially start lecturing her again. He'd made his intentions clear, and now so had she.

[billyblueklein]

The banana was a little too soft, a little too mushy, but he swallowed it down, anyhow. He wasn’t good on a completely empty stomach, and he knew he’d have more waiting for him at work, when he could shake himself out of this spell enough to show up to it. He was lucky, at the Bulletin. He worked out his therapy schedule with them, so on the mornings of his appointments, he had a buffer period. Where he could decompress, eat his pathetic little breakfast and just feel before he needed to clock in. And if it was truly a bad day, one he couldn’t really move past, he could text his boss and tell them it wasn’t going to happen. He rarely ever did that, never wanting to take advantage of something so precious and necessary when shit got bad, but he appreciated the option, all the same. 

“Mania?” He doesn’t know, for a moment, why he phrases it as a question. “Sometimes I feel like I’m flying. Normally it comes after a bad bout of depression, and sometimes it feels… feels so good, that I can almost taste it. I feel invincible, untouchable. Like I’m talking to some higher power directly, or like I am some higher power. Weightless.” He almost laughs, a bitter little sound. He doesn’t often talk about this to anyone anymore. Sometimes, family.. Ophelia, his mother, knows how to track Billy’s mood like no other. His therapist, Julie, knows all of his tells. Henry is starting to pick up on the bigger things. But he has it mostly under control these days, so it’s something he almost forgets about. Sometimes, every so often, he skips a pill and the balance goes all out of wack. He scares himself in those moments. 

“Well, thank you. In the beginning, it was really out of necessity. There was a really bad low which turned to an even worse high and I ruined a lot of things in my life. But… therapy’s good now. It’s been ten years since I’ve started, and I can’t imagine life without it. It’s hard work, but it’s good. Sometimes I have to stop and be proud of how far I’ve come.” He softly smiles at her, another sip of OJ. “Lovely to meet you, Sara. I’m Billy Blue.”

[sara-iyer]

Mania? He said, confirming her suspicions that he had a bipolar diagnosis. Sara nodded in understanding. Finally on the same page as he was, even if she didn't fully understand. She had her own demons and conditions - complex trauma, anxiety, depression, Fibro - so she could relate to an extent, but she would never understand the intricacies of his experiences with bipolar, just like he'd never know the intricacies of her experiences living with Fibromyalgia. But they didn't need to in order to have an understanding, or compassion, or empathy for each other. She listened to him intently while he explained what it felt like to keep the feelings too good to be true at bay. "I can't even imagine what that must be like." She replied. Going from the lowest low to the highest high, and how disorienting and scary that must've felt for him. Sara seemed to stay in the pits of her lowest lows; a prisoner to her depression and the widespread pain that only solidified that state of being for her. "Do the meds help with that? The high highs and the low lows?" She asked. He'd said as much when he told her that medication was also a necessity for him, but Sara didn't know much about it compared to painkillers or anti-depressants.

In the beginning, it was really out of necessity. Sara nodded solemnly. She could relate completely, putting herself through part-time work as a sophomore in high school to pay for therapy sessions and her own medications because it was desperately needed. There was a really bad low which turned to an even worse high and I ruined a lot of things in my life. Sara eyebrows furrowed in a frown, shooting him a sympathetic look across the table. She finally found the strength to pick up her mug of tea and lift it to her lips, taking a small sip of the hot liquid. Her hands were trembling when she set it back down on the saucer. "I hope that the people in your life were understanding when that happened. Especially when after that you took accountability and got yourself into therapy." She gave him a small smile, hoping for the best but kind of expecting to hear the worst in return. Mental health, like any sort of chronic issue, was met with so much stigma, shame and misunderstanding. He didn't deserve that. Neither did she.

"Ten years? That's incredible!" Her smile grew, showing off her teeth. "I don't know enough people that could ever say that for themselves. You should definitely be proud of that, and everything you've achieved. I don't even know you, but I know that you would've made so much progress working so hard over these past ten years." She said, hands limp in her lap, color finally starting to pink up her cheeks again. I'm Billy Blue, he introduced himself after another swig of his orange juice. Sara's smile reached her eyes, this time. "Is that your full first name? Billy Blue? I love it." It was cute, and so was he!

[aslandemirci]

Aslan offered up a small, close-lipped smile, one that tugged at the corner of his mouth as Sara repeated his name back at him. He’d expected her question– if he had a dollar for every time someone had asked him where his name came from, he’d likely be a rich man. “Turkey,” he answered, head bobbing on a gentle nod, “From there originally, moved here when I was nine or so, and then I went back as soon as I turned eighteen.” It was more than she’d asked for, but he figured he’d offer it anyway to explain the accent, if nothing else. It wasn’t extremely heavy, but it was far enough outside of the norm to draw attention. 

He shook his head, again waving off her thanks, but not because he didn’t appreciate it. Of course he did. But Aslan had never done well in any sort of spotlight– he didn’t know how to receive praise or even process it, his father had made sure of it. Yusuf Demirci had only ever beaten Aslan down, both verbally and even physically whenever he’d felt that the moment called for it. And so naturally Aslan deflected any time anyone showed him a shred of gratitude or praise. It was the only reason he’d mentioned his sisters– because he didn’t know how to stand in any sort of spotlight or accept praise when he’d spent his entire lifetime adhering to the opposite. It wasn’t because he valued women based on who they were related to, it was a way to deflect attention off of himself and anything he’d done in that gym, because the reality? Aslan had grown up in a culture that was particularly oppressive towards women, and he’d emerged an absolute champion for women in spite of that– a feminist, so to speak, and he’d stand by that as long as there was breath in his lungs.

Aslan nodded– fictional men were better. He couldn’t even argue with that because he was painfully aware of how awful the vast majority of his species were. He just aimed to be different. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, breathing out a frustrated sigh and wishing he could do more to help on that front. “I hear fictional men written by women are somethin’ else,” he supplied, also not joking about the severity of the situation but aiming to bring some humor to light exactly the same way that Sara had.

They could spend all day talking about how shitty men were and Aslan knew he’d likely find himself agreeing at every turn, but he’d rather focus on her lanyard. He’d never seen one like that before and guessed that there had to be some meaning behind it. “Oh really?” He asked, glancing down at the lanyard again and studying it, his mind combing through his past experiences and wondering if he’d seen it before and just hadn’t known what it meant. But he felt quite sure that this was a new one for him, and so naturally, he adhered to that catlike curiosity he’d always been known for and asked. “I’ve never seen one before– thank you for explaining.” He frowned, wishing that her gym experience hadn’t gone down the way it had, and he hoped it wouldn’t deter her in the future, but he certainly understood if it did. “I’ve heard of it, yeah, but don’t know a whole lot about it,” he supplied as she divulged her diagnosis. He’d heard the term when his neurosurgeon had been detailing potential complications from his injury, but that was the extent of his knowledge. 

“Nah, I was basically done anyway,” he assured her, feeling like he’d pushed the limit with his back for today. “How about that post-workout smoothie, though? My treat?”

[sara-iyer]

He had a sideways smile when she repeated his name out loud. Almost like he expected it to happen, or it happened to him quite often. Sara knew what that felt like to a certain extent - people often mispronounced her name or anglicized it. His name was Turkish - Aslan was from Turkey. Before she could ask him more, Aslan supplied it to her free of charge: from there originally, moved here when I was nine or so, and then I went back as soon as I turned eighteen. "Wow, that's awesome. What made your parents move to Texas during that period? I bet Turkey is beautiful." She asked, nosey and curious about people. "How long have you been in Blackstone Ridge?" Maybe he was a newbie to the area too, and had lived somewhere else in Texas during his childhood. Since he'd told her some of his history, Sara only thought it fair to share some of her own. "I grew up in Long Island, New York, and then lived in Brooklyn for college. I only moved here in February with my now-ex-girlfriend 'cos her mom got sick, so I'm kinda new to the ways of the south." She explained as simply as possible, although it did sound kind of ramble-y.

Aslan apologized on behalf of all men, and Sara appreciated it. "It's okay, I think you've more than proven that you're one of the good ones." Nobody else in the gym had intervened except him, and that said the most she had to know about his character. I hear fictional men written by women are somethin' else. Sara chuckled, rapidly nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'm a huge romance book girl, so I can confirm!" She replied, not feeling ashamed about that fact for once. There was so much ridicule around the romance genre - whether it be novels, or movies, or TV shows - because the market was predominantly women. And God forbid women enjoy something, or want something nice for themselves. The misogyny ran deep on that one. Aslan seemed to get that, and she thought again that he must've had a partner. Not that a man so kind and gentle (but also fierce and protective) couldn't be single, but it'd be a damn crime if he was.

He admitted that he hadn't seen a Sunflower lanyard before, and thanked her for explaining it to him. "People asking about it raises awareness, and that's half the point of it, honestly!" Sara replied, fidgeting with the plastic of it hanging around her neck. "That guy was ableist as fuck. And racist. So, I think me wearing it today had the opposite effect." Disgusting. He'd deserved everything that Aslan had given him, actually. Aslan told her that he'd heard of Fibro before, but didn't know much about it, either. And this was one of the reasons the lanyards were so great - it started the conversation, raised awareness for invisible and hidden disabilities, and gave Sara the opportunity to educate others about her chronic illness. "It's a whole heaps of things, but mainly widespread pain throughout my whole body. And with that comes fatigue, and insomnia and brain fog, dizziness and headaches, yada yada. I'm basically just always in pain, and there's not a whole lot that helps."

Exercise was one of the recommended treatments, but it was always the throwaway line fed to women in particular, especially surrounding things that doctors attributed to being 'all in your head' or 'made up'. Sometimes even walking was painful, but she tried to make sure she went out for walks as much as possible. Coming to the gym today was an attempt at broadening her regime and had clearly been a mistake.

How about that post-workout smoothie, though? My treat? Sara pointed up at him, refusing to let him pull a fast one on her. "Noo, let it be my treat! Please?" He'd already done enough for her in such a short amount of time, the least she could do was spend a couple bucks on a smoothie for him. "I'll meet you at Smooth(ie) Serenity?" She offered. "Unless there's someplace closer by that we can walk to?" This was the first time Sara had been here, and she was still so new to town that she wasn't very orientated to where everything was located. Aslan would surely know better than she did.

[carolineweav]

"I own a music store! Not far from here, actually." Caroline said, when Sara asked what she did. "I teach music more these days, but I still play live from time to time." She added. "Nothing too exciting, just stuff like the Peach Pageant." She shrugged, before taking a sip of her apple juice. "What about you? What do you do?"

She let out a small laugh at Sara's question. "I do sometimes, but not mainly." She said, before pulling her phone out from her pocket. A beam was on her face as she pulled up the photograph of her son. It was really cheesy, but she loved showing people pictures of him. She was so proud of him, such an adorable and sweet little boy.

Caroline picked up a vibe from Sara that told her she should stop flirting. Maybe she was straight. Maybe she's just not into the idea of flirting with her specifically. It didn't matter, her smile still shifted into a friendly one when she offered her another juice. "Yes, please."

At the sight of the dart wound, Caroline winced. "Oof, that's not good." She said, glancing at it for a moment before turning her head away. "Benny? Yeah, I know." She said, with a smile and a nod. "He's a bit of a grump but he's nice in a lot of ways." She said, deciding not to divulge he was a flirt who never wanted any strings attached with his hook ups. Basically her favorite thing about him right now.

[sara-iyer]

Caroline owned a music store in the area. "Oh, that's so cool! What's it called? I'll have to stop by sometime." Sara responded, pulling her iPhone out of her pocket and setting it down on the bar top. She'd save the address on her Maps app. Besides being a renowned business owner, Caroline also taught music and played live from time to time. "Wow, that's incredible?! You're doing it all, girl! Business owner, teacher, musician, mother." Sara grinned, hyping her up. They were all such huge accomplishments in their own right, and must've taken up a lot of Caroline's brain space and energy. Sara's chronically ill body could never.

"Do you play a specific instrument? Or are you a jack of all trades?" Sara had a feeling, with Caroline being a teacher and owning a music store, that she knew how to play all of the instruments. Sara played piano as a kid because it helped make easy work of her hands and fingers, and she needed that for the miniature work she wanted to do, but she hadn't played in years. She wanted to do singing lessons at one point, too, but her mom was already gone by then, and her dad was already struggling to get her and Ananya to dance lessons. That was his quota of fatherly duties used up, unfortunately. "I'm a miniature artist. It's easier to just show you..." She chuckled, grabbing her phone and pulling up her Instagram page before passing it over to Caroline to see for herself.

Caroline exchanged her own phone to show off photos of her son, Oliver. She only called him Oli sometimes, apparently. Both names were cute. "Aww, he's gorgeous!" Sara commented, pout accentuating her bottom lip in response to the photo of Caroline holding her kid. "He looks just like you!" She said, noticing the similarities in their facial structures. Sara wanted to be nosey and ask about Oliver's dad, but the fact that Caroline had been trying to flirt with her meant that he obviously wasn't around, for whatever reason.

The bartender set down fresh glasses of juice for Caroline and a Coke for Sara on the bar top. She sucked on the straw, sighing happily at how crisp and refreshing it tasted. This beat alcohol every time, in her opinion. "Yeah, it hurt like a bitch at the time." Sara admitted before pulling the V-line of her dress collar back into place over the scar. He's a bit of a grump but he's nice in a lot of ways, Caroline said about Benny. Sara nodded, giving herself a moment to think by taking another swig out of her Coke glass. "Yeah, I can see that." He'd been nice the majority of the time she'd spent with him, and then grumpy at one point. It made sense. "Anybody else who works here that I need to know about?" She joked. Caroline was a regular - she must've known who to avoid or not.

[toby-jarvis]

Toby laughed at the observation. "A very badly done mom heart tattoo, you mean." They had a sense of humor about it now. They could've got it reworked by a better artist on the outside, but the story was funny. "They did such a bad job. And it hurt like a motherfucker. Isn't even that big. I don't know how he could've made it hurt so bad." Toby flashed Sara what they hoped was a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Gentle hands." Go too rough on a guy behind bars and you were definitely going to hear about it. Tattooing always hurt to an extent, but there were ways to make it easier on the client.

"I never got sick or got infections from tattooing, no, but after I got my mom heart tattoo, I kind of stopped letting them ink me. Told them I'd rather be on the other side of the tattoo machine. And I never re-used my needles." You heard about it, though. The way infections and illnesses spread behind bars. It definitely wasn't best practice or safe to tattoo like that, but Toby hopefully knew better now. What else were they supposed to do? Not learn to tattoo at all? It was the only way they'd ever really broken the rules.

Toby let Sara examine the placement in the mirror and once she was happy, they led them to the chair. "Make yourself comfy." Toby started up their machine, beginning with the black outline. "Lemme know if you need me to stop, or you need to move." Had to fill the quiet when you were inking, otherwise shit got boring real fast. "So, you not really into horror movies, then? Who hasn't seem Scream? I thought everyone had. It's a classic."

[sara-iyer]

"Do you think any Mom Heart tattoo is done well?" Sara replied, tongue in cheek. This tattoo, with the yoyo and her mother's favorite flowers, was her take on the stereotypical Mom Heart design. "Are you close with your mom?" She asked. It was something she always wanted to know about a person - as a way to hurt herself, maybe, or to make herself feel better in knowing that she wasn't the only person in the entire world who had lost their mom at a young age. Realistically and logically, Sara knew she wasn't alone in that experience, but emotionally? It was a whole other story.

Toby continued with their story about their prison tattoo: It hurt like a motherfucker. Isn't even that big. I don't know how he could've made it hurt so bad. Sara shouldn't've been laughing about it, but she kinda had the giggles. "You reckon that's been your most painful tattoo?" There she went again with her game of 20 Questions. It wasn't just to make conversation, though - she was genuinely curious. The life of a tattoo artist couldn't be too different from hers as a another type of artist, but it just was. Especially with Toby's revelation that they'd been to prison. Sara wanted to know about them. People were the most interesting part of being in the world, in her opinion.

They told her not to worry. Gentle hands. Sara smiled, gaze dropping to look at their hands. Like them, they were tiny. That fact probably worked to their advantage and made tattooing easier. Toby told her that they never re-used needles in prison, and thankfully never got sick or infected from getting a tattoo. Whew. "Oh, so Mom Heart is your only prison tattoo then?" She tilted her head, eyes scanning over the more professionally inked tattoos over the rest of their arms.

None of this deterred her from getting Toby to do her tattoo here and now. If anything, it gave them lots to talk about while they got to work. Talking was one of the best distractions for Sara, and when she was willingly putting herself through pain (more than she went through on a daily basis) she needed that kind of coping strategy in place. She sat down on a stool and retrieved her water bottle and packet of Razzles from her bag before tossing it under the tattoo table. Yeah, was it obvious that her favorite movie was 13 Going on 30? She'd been eating Razzles obsessively since she was a kid just because it was the candy they ate in the movie. She always liked to have some on her. Chewing was going to be a good distraction, alongside wriggling her toes in her sneakers and having a good chat with Toby. Once she had her food and drink set up on the table, she set her arm onto it face-up. Lemme know if you need me to stop, or you need to move. "I will! Thank you!" She replied.

So, you not really into horror movies, then? Who hasn't seem Scream? I thought everyone had. It's a classic. Did Sara have to repeat how much of a chicken shit she was?! As if she hadn't embarrassed herself enough already! "I've seen the first movie, for sure. Maybe the second and third, too? But definitely not the last few. There's like... what? Five or six movies? Do they live up to the legacy of the first movie?" She asked, 'cos she knew that the first movie was, at least, known as a cult classic. She hadn't seen it since, what? Ten years old? That had been a huge mistake. She hadn't slept for weeks after that silly decision.

[becktatum]

Beck nodded, letting the conversation flow natural and easy. "Yep. Actually, right over there," he said with a laugh, pointing towards the expansive pastures and farmland where a yellow farm house lay in the distance. "Practically share a property. And my cousin lives here. He owns the bookstore." Beck didn't know what was going on with the husband, so he just didn't mention that part.

Beck flashed her a sideways grin. "Yep, the animated horse movie. My family raises dairy cattle, so yeah, wasn't ever gonna be anything but a cowboy." Girl had a lot of questions. He didn't mind. Probably was helping her to keep her mind off being nervous riding. Some people talked on horseback 'cause they were nervous, some 'cause they were relaxed. He wasn't sure where she fit on that spectrum yet.

Beck laughed gently as Smoke came to a nice, smooth stop. "Arena is too busy for me to show off her fancy moves, but just you wait 'til someone shows you a real stop." She didn't have reining plates on her right now either, but Beck was confident he could get a nice sliding stop out of her. Some other time, like he'd said. "You did a good job," Beck said simply, giving a nod. He wasn't a hand-holder or an ass-kisser. Told it like it was. But he knew some folks needed the reassurance. The way her expression suddenly changed when she realized she didn't know how to get down was amusing.

"Girl," he chuckled. "Okay, get your feet outta the styrrups, hold onto your saddle horn real tight, just swing your leg over and slide back down. She ain't gonna move." Smoke was too well-behaved to think about running off during a dismount. "Smooth and easy. Sooner you get on down here, sooner you can take my number."

[sara-iyer]

Oh, Beck's family practically lived on the same property, in a yellow farmhouse he pointed to off into the distance. If Sara lived that close (or far) to her father again she'd combust. Probably have a mental breakdown. Her little sister was another story. Beck's cousin also lived on the land and was the owner of Blackstone Books. Quintessential small town Texas, huh? Sara couldn't say that she didn't love it, or that she wasn't a little jealous. She wished she had a tight-knit family. Something to be proud of. "That's very sweet and convenient!" Sara replied with a wholehearted smile. His family were dairy cattle farmers - the last piece of the puzzle that made Beck's background finally feel complete, in her eyes. "Ooh, dairy cattle. Do ya'll sell milk or ice cream or anything?" She said, twang naturally fitting into her words because of the environment she was in. After this afternoon, she felt a little more country and cowboy.

Just you wait 'til someone shows you a real stop. "I can't wait!" Sara grinned. She had no idea what the fuck that meant, but sure! It sounded fun and exciting - so long as she wasn't the one on the horse when it happened, she was sure it was cool! You did a good job was all the praise Beck gave her. Sara was immensely proud of herself and that was all that really mattered at the end of the day. She hadn't planned on even getting on a horse today, let alone walking with one and controlling the reins. For her, a girl who grew up on the coast of Long Island and then lived the rest of her life travelling between Brooklyn and Manhattan, this was a huge development! "Thank you." Sara smiled, spinning a hand around and slightly bending in an upper body curtsy.

Girl, he said, laughing at her stuck on top of the horse. "I'm a newbie!" She whined in response, joining in on his laughter at her own expense. Like the rest of the evening, Beck continued to gently instruct her on what to do next. She struggled with her feet in the stirrups the most, for whatever reason, and when they were free she gripped the saddle horn real tight. Sooner you get on down here, sooner you can take my number. "Well, now I've gotta hurry the hell up, don't I?" She joked, her chuckle audibly shaky this time. She sucked in a harsh breath in preparation, swung her leg over Smoke's body, and slid down 'til her feet hit the ground - doing it quick so she didn't have time to think about it. Once she was safe on the ground her shoulders relaxed, and she squeezed all the anxious air out of her lungs through pursed lips. "I did it! I really did it!" She exclaimed, making a happy noise at the back of her throat and throwing her arms around Beck's neck. "Oh my God, I did it! Thank you! Thank you so much!" She said into his shoulder, relieved to be safe and to have accomplished such a big feat.

[coreyjensen]

Corey could tell this wasn't going well. Bruin might not have been much of a guard dog, but Corey sure as hell was. They got defensive, protective, practically ready to go for the throat of anyone who messed with Charlie. They were impulsive, had confrontational defiance. They always had. Sometimes they got off on being annoying just for the same of it, so was it any surprise that they got blunt or direct when they perceived someone was coming for their relationship with their partner?

They gripped Charlie's hand firmly, using her as an anchor. She was the only reason they weren't being an even bigger asshole, if they were honest. "Nobody said it was a master plan. Doesn't mean it was cool of you to do. Doesn't really matter, though, does it? It's all said and done now. You thought you knew something about me, and our relationship, and you didn't." How much could she have known after a couple conversations?

Bruin came back over to check on his owner, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Corey crouched down to pet him, getting a few licks and kisses on their face for good measure. "Mhm, hey, bub," they murmured, letting go of Charlie's hand for a moment just so they had both to pet him with. "We can be civil, Sara," Corey said after a few moments, giving a sigh and standing back upright. "I don't like what you did. But you felt the need to ask us to come here and apologize over it. It isn't the end of the world. We all have lives. We can move on."

[charlottexmiller]

charlie watched sara's body language carefully, trying to work out what it was she wanted from them. they'd come along, listened to her apology and on her part, accepted it but that didn't take away the fact that she and corey were allowed to voice their frustrations. the entire situation from start to finish seemed extremely overdramatic, something she tried to avoid at all costs as it only drew unwanted attention. charlie was defensive of her relationship because it was no-one else's business, no matter how much they thought they knew.

"nobody is punishing you," charlie spoke evenly, resisting the urge to rip her hair out over this, "nobody is saying you deserve anything except you. we've accepted your apology and told you numerous times we'd be civil and move on. i'm not sure what else you want us to tell you, sara and you're right, maybe this entire situation could have been avoided but it wasn't and that's that. i'm sure have all said things we're not proud of in the heat of moments, we're human and it happens. i think it's best we go our separate ways and leave it at that because i will not stand here and continue to do this dance."

charlie bit down on her lip gently before speaking, "i do genuinely appreciate you not telling anyone what you know about me — about us."

[sara-iyer]

And another thing! Why the fuck had Charlie said that if I hear you abuse Corey's trust that risks my relationship or my career again, you will hear from me? She could see why Charlie said something about potentially risking her career, but how the hell was what Sara did risking their relationship? Huh? Maybe they weren't as stable and secure as they were putting on. Were they not accepting her multiple apologies because this had somehow rocked their relationship? Sara was done guessing, or even caring, at this point. They both deserved each other.

Nobody said it was a master plan. Hadn't they, though? They kept going on about how she had 'used' the information she knew about their relationship to 'target' Charlie. Like she was some evil villain with an agenda, not a human being who reacted in the moment and made a mistake.

Doesn't mean it was cool of you to do. Yeah? That's what she'd been saying the whole Goddamn time? Why weren't they listening to what she was saying? How many more apologies did they want her to give them? How many more admissions of fucking up, of crossing a line, of being disrespectful? Nothing she ever said was going to be good enough, and it just hurt so much more knowing that Sara had extended that grace to Corey when they had been the one who fucked up. What Corey had done was a lot more convoluted and planned out than Sara having one single unpleasant conversation with Charlie was, but whatever. Doesn't really matter, though, does it? Exactly. None of what she had to say ever mattered. The fact that she had invited the both of them here to take accountability and profusely apologize meant jack shit, apparently.

I don't like what you did. The immature, inner child version of Sara wanted to retort with: well, I don't like what you did, either. Forgiveness was a continuous process, it wasn't a one-time thing. And Sara felt resentful for Corey having dragged her into all this bullshit in the first place. Resentful for Charlie not working through her issues so she could've arrived to this place in her relationship with Corey much earlier, and it would've meant that Sara could've been left out of it and not have ever been put in this position. Maybe they should actually be thanking her, huh? If their New Leaf date and flirting at the Peach Festival hadn't happened, maybe Corey and Charlie wouldn't've arrived at being officially together so fast. Sara's unwilling involvement forced that hand - but yeah, sure, she was just an awful and evil person, wasn't she? Did this for 'relevance' and to create 'high school drama' - why she was so fixated on that she'd have to investigate in therapy, which was actually something both Corey and Charlie needed to do as well - when she never wanted a single part of this to begin with.

Nobody is punishing you. Nobody is saying you deserve anything except you. Oh, please. Give her a fucking break. Sara had said if. If they thought she deserved to have this entire thing weigh on her shoulders, considering that's exactly how they were acting and treating her like. We've accepted your apology and told you numerous times we'd be civil and move on. Was Sara going fucking crazy? At what point had either of them said 'thank you for apologizing' or 'I accept your apology'? She replayed the encounter in her head, and nothing of the sort had happened 'til now. I appreciate that you came all this way to apologize and I respect that but I can't give you more than that. Is that what Charlie meant? All I can give you is civil politeness, Sara. They weren't said in a 'it’s forgiven, let’s move on' context until right now. Fucking hell.

Sara agreed with Charlie on one thing, at least - I think it's best we go our separate ways and leave it at that. Yeah, she wanted nothing more than to move on. It was moments like these that made her want to close herself off entirely and never trust anybody ever again. She wanted to go home and cry her eyes out and isolate for the foreseeable future. There was no point in replying to anything else that they'd said - it wouldn't be well received. It would never be good enough. These weren't her people. "I appreciate you both taking the time to come out here and talk." Sara said, forcing a polite, close-lipped smile. She busied herself by pulling the dog lead out of her bag, getting ready to leave. Greg was playing with some other dogs twice his size in the middle of the field, and Bruin was standing by Corey's ankles.

I do genuinely appreciate you not telling anyone what you know about me - about us. Sara waved a hand, scared to look either of them in the eye again. "It's fine. Your secret is safe with me. I won't say anything." She'd learned her lesson - it was none of her business. And now, through her anger (and underneath that was her hurt) she was really finding it hard to even care about the state of their relationship. She truly hoped they were happy, but she didn't want to be involved anymore. Secret or not, second best or not, they could do whatever the hell they wanted to. "Greg!" Sara called, leaning forward and patting her hands on her knees to beckon him back over to her. "Come on, buddy!" The tiny French Bulldog came bounding over, his short tongue hanging out the corner of his mouth. She sunk down to the ground to clip the lead back onto his harness. "Bruin's gorgeous, by the way." She decided to say, watching Greg and Bruin start to sniff each other again. "I'll see you guys." Would she? Sara didn't know what else to say. She got to her feet and started to walk away from Corey and Charlie, Greg happily following at her side on his dog lead.

[everything-y-nothing]

SIMONE ASHLEY ☀️🩵

08 August 2025 (via instagram)

[mattymaddox]

Matt spotted her before she spotted him--easy to do with the way she practically lit up the entrance, bright against the dim hum of the bar. He felt that little twinge in his chest again, the one that always seemed to creep in whenever Sara smiled like that. It almost felt like he'd been invited into a space he wasn't sure he'd earned yet.

"Hey, Peach." His voice was low, warm, with the faintest rasp from the long day. He didn't quite mirror her energy, but he offered her a small, real smile that reached his eyes. "Figured if I was gonna get dragged to a bar this late, might as well be by someone who makes it hard to say no." He shoved one hand into his pocket, the other giving a vague gesture toward the room before letting it drop to his side. "I'm alright. Long day. But this helps." He didn't elaborate on what needed helping, or why, and he didn't really want to get into it. Definitely not here with the bass rattling his ribs and with her looking at him like that.

At the offer of a drink, his brow quirked slightly, teasing but still soft. "Believe it or not, I don't usually let people bribe me with alcohol. But I guess I could make an exception." He followed her toward the bar. Somewhere under the humor, though, his thoughts turned over like gears. You shouldn't get used to this. She deserves someone who knows how to show up without second-guessing himself. But Sara was here, beaming, and he'd agreed to come. He could at least be present, even if part of him was still learning how.

[sara-iyer]

Hey, Peach. Sara smiled way too hard and wide at that. It was so endearing - he was so endearing - and the nickname had come about organically. It was cute. Got her heart racing. She used her full top set of teeth to clamp down over her grin to hide it. Slow, remember? She couldn't make her interest too obvious! Even if she totally already had. Matt smiled, too - the skin by the corners of his eyes creasing ever so slightly as he did. Beyond that, though, he looked a little exhausted. It was kinda late. She kept bouncing up and down on her toes to shake the guilt away. 

He found it hard to say no to her? Wow. She'd never had that before. Someone wrapped around her finger like that. If anything, it normally happened in reverse - Sara at the mercy of the person she liked. The one who gave, gave, gave in every single relationship while the other person constantly took from her, draining her like a leech. It was a nice change of pace. "I'm gonna try and not let that go to my head." She saluted with two fingers, silently signaling soldier's honor through her quick gesture. She was trying her best not to read too much into what that statement meant in the first place. And the nickname, and him meeting her at Şerefe when it was this late and he'd had a long day. 

Her smile finally faltered, eyes widening with genuine concern. "I'm here if you wanna talk about it. Your long day." She offered, holding her own hand behind her back to keep herself from reaching out and comforting him with her touch. But this helps perked her back up. How could she not read into that? "Or I'm really good at distraction." Sara suggested, her lips turning up again at the corners. Distracting herself in order to regulate her emotions was one of the best skills she'd learned in therapy. It helped every single time, without a doubt, as long as she wholeheartedly participated in it. "I'm glad I can help, even if it's just a little bit." Sara said up at him, earnest and sincere. He'd done the same for her at the Peach Festival, and she wanted to be that for him, too. 

Matt usually didn't let people bribe him with alcohol, but he also found it hard to say no to her, remember? Said he could make an exception. "I'm not bribing, I'm treating you." Sara giggled, feeling kinda special. Funny how he kept doing that. "What would I need to bribe you for, anyway?" She asked with an innocent but rapid blink of her eyelashes, thick and heavy with mascara. She turned on her heel to lead him over to the bar. Somebody had already snatched up the table she had previously shared with Mickey, so the bar top would have to do. Thankfully, there were a couple of stools free. Sara jumped up onto one, crossing her ankles together to keep from showing Matt - and the rest of Şerefe - an upskirt moment. "I actually don't really drink alcohol that much, if ever. I've been having these virgin margaritas all night. They're soo good." She said, keeping the conversation light. Trying to distract him. "You can have some of mine, if you want. Otherwise, get whatever you want. My treat!" She offered, catching Bobby's attention so they could order. 

[lettiescott-deactivated20250927]

“What? You? Needy? I don’t believe it.” Sara had seemed nothing more than put together, a great conversationalist, with an even keener sense of fashion. Lettie had to weasel her way into exploring their closet one day or have them help her revamp her style just a bit. Lettie thought she had a pretty good hand, but Sara truly blew her out of this world. “Usually a few months?” Far longer than her engagement, it felt like. In a way, these shows had helped her heal through her relational trauma and the shortsightedness she once had. It was easy to empathize with the desire to be loved and receive love from someone else without expectation.

“Ah! No!” she screamed, jumping up from her seat in disbelief at the TV. Of course, he would choose the manipulative blonde from Tennessee who was hoping to be the next big country star. “You have got to be kidding me!” Men. Awful choice in selecting what was right for them. “What an idiot,” she said, shaking her head. “Love in the real world is overrated. You honestly need a solid friendship as the foundation, I think.” 

[sara-iyer]

Lettie didn't believe that Sara was needy. Wild. Somehow, even after a couple of hours, Sara had managed to still keep some of her cards close to her chest. "Oh, you better believe it, girl." She replied with a short burst of laughter. "It's all the relational trauma and abandonment issues, I'm sure." A casual but honest admittance. Hey, she didn't ask to be this way! And she was actively working very hard in therapy with her psychologist to undo the damage and patterns that had formed. "A few months to fulfil their contracts, maybe." She said, uncharacteristically cynical. It was almost warranted, though, when the Bachelor chose the manipulative blonde in the end. Lettie jumped up off the couch and Sara followed, slower due the Fibro pain that was starting to settle in her muscles and joints.

"This is what's wrong with men!" Sara agreed, hands on her hips and eyebrows narrowed in frustration. "What an idiot." She echoed Lettie's words. Matched her head shake, sighed, then dropped back down onto the softness of the couch cushions. "I feel like we need to watch a wholesome rom-com after that, or something." They couldn't end the night like this after such a huge disappointment!

Love in the real world is overrated. "You think?" Sara asked, craning her neck to look up at her new friend. "I don't know, my last two long-term relationships were friends-to-lovers, and they were both... horrific." Yeah, that word would do. "What about you? Tell me about your relationship baggage, Let." Sara adjusted her position on the sofa, perking up with curiosity. Maybe they could talk about their failed relationship histories and then watch a rom-com as a consolation prize.

[toby-jarvis]

Toby gave a small chuckle at the demand to see the mom heart. They weren't really ashamed of it anymore. Sure, it wasn't good, but it was part of their history. The first tattoo they ever got, and basically the cheesiest, most badly done one. "My cellmate wouldn't start teaching me to tattoo until I got one myself," they said, stripping off their overshirt and pulling back their tank top a little to show the tattoo. "So I ended up with this. God knows how he was trying to teach me how to tattoo when that's the chicken scratch he was coming out with, but he helped make sure I had access to the machines and stuff. We had to make them ourselves. 'Cause they weren't allowed."

Toby wasn't always so open about their past, but today didn't feel like the kind of day to be guarded. Sara seemed curious, and she seemed chill. "You're not allowed to do it, but like most things, people find a way. They make the machines out of like, electric razors, pieces of clock radios, and the ink out of melted plastic, pens... It's a whole thing. Not exactly safe." They held up their hands. "Don't worry. I'm very sterile now. I've taken all my certifications and everything. I was just young and wanted something to do that kept my artistic side busy."

Toby tried to think back. "Uh, I got out 2023, and my brother made me watch Get Out, and Us," Toby remembered fondly. "Very typical for us, but he knew I'd like them. I also caught up on the Scream franchise. A black lesbian that doesn't die? Hell yeah," they said with a laugh. Once Sara had decided on color and was happy with the placement, Toby started pulling out their inks. "You thinking a traditional color pallet? Mostly blues, greens, reds, obviously I'll try to match your skin tone for the hand?"

[sara-iyer]

Toby didn't begrudge her request, and started to strip off their overshirt to reveal a plain white tank top underneath. All of their tattoos were a lot easier to see now, and Sara tried to focus on the patchwork of art instead of the slight bulges of their biceps. The infamous Mom Heart was quick to distract her, and take up all of her attention span. "Holy fuck. That's, like, the definition of a stereotypical Mom Heart tattoo. That's the first design that pops up when you search it on Google Images, I bet you." Sara teased, laying it on incredibly thick. She hoped they knew she was only messing around. "Fair trade, though. Give a guy a Mom tattoo and you feed him for a lifetime." She joked, half-assing the Bible verse about teaching a man how to fish. "What a cool and unique way to learn the craft, though? Well. You get me." Not that she was condoning prison, or calling it a cool experience, but... how many tattoo artists could say they learnt it the way Toby did?

You're not allowed to do it, but like most things, people find a way. Sara nodded, mouth hanging open in rapt fascination. Toby explained how they made it all work; ink made out of melted plastic and pens?! "Wow," Sara hummed, trying to figure it out in her head and visualize how they got it all to work. She worked with unconventional materials sometimes for her miniatures, but damn, never like that! Toby made sure to set a disclaimer and Sara chuckled, waving them off. "You're fine! I trust 'ya." She wouldn't be here (still) if she didn't! "Did you ever get like, infections or anything because of a tattoo when you were in there?" She asked, still curious about how the whole thing worked.

They got released from prison in 2023. It wasn't that long ago, but Sara assumed it must've felt like a lifetime for them. She hoped it did, anyway. "Get Out and Us are brilliant movies, I gotta admit." Sara agreed, and smiled at the mention of Toby's brother, Noah. "I have not seen the last few Scream movies... maybe I should jump on that." A black lesbian that doesn't die? Hell yeah. Sara agreed. She'd sit with the curtains up one day and attempt to make her way through the movies just for that sort of representation. And speaking of: you thinking a traditional color palette? Mostly blues, greens, reds, obviously I'll try to match your skin tone for the hand? Sara grinned, tucking some loose curls behind her ear. "Yeah, that sounds great! Thank you. I appreciate it." It was one of the reasons why she didn't have more tattoos, actually. It was hard to get somebody who was willing to ink her darker skin. "We ready to get started?"

[becktatum]

Beck wasn't overthinking. He was a go with the flow kinda person. If someone wanted to learn about the rodeo and have some fun company, he didn't see why they couldn't. He didn't need to dwell on the date part. Just two folks having fun and hanging out. "Some other time for the showing then," Beck said with a nod. He probably wouldn't be very appealing in that environment. He kept his eyes on the ball, was all business. "Yeah, we're super close. My whole family is." He wasn't going to delve into the dead brother stuff. Not right now. Too heavy a conversation for this.

"They aren't all food, like, Smoke obviously. But I got Snickers, Whiskey, Butterscotch, Pepper, Cheddar, Chrome and Rain. So I guess a mixture of food, drink and nature?" Just what felt right. Chrome and Rain had got their names out of elements of the names on their paperwork, the official, registered names, and Ethan had named Chrome anyways, so Beck's track record of food names was mostly intact. "And I got a dog called Banjo," he laughed. Beck wasn't especially interesting or fancy with his names. He fumbled over being asked his favorite movie. "Aw, hell, I don't know. I ain't ever thought about it that hard. Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron," Beck said with a laugh. "I loved that as a kid."

Her excitement was cute. She seemed genuinely surprised at being able to stay upright. "C'mon. Falling ain't easy. You can have higher aspirations for yourself than not falling." But considering she didn't even think she was gonna sit on a horse today, he figured it must've been big for her. He nodded at her agreement to hold the reins. "First, get her to stop, like I showed you," he said, nodding as Sara pulled back on the reins. Smoke stopped obediently. Beck unclipped the lunge line from her muzzle. "Squeeze, with your legs, keep your hands low, and you can tell her to walk in a firm voice. Give her a little nudge with your legs if you need to encourage her forward, don't worry 'bout hurting her. She's all bulk and muscle. Once she's walking, relax your legs again."

[sara-iyer]

Some other time for the showing then, Beck said. It was the kind of reassurance that Sara often craved, and deeply appreciated. She nodded at him and tried to temper her smile. This was exciting! Scary, but exciting. But that's how this whole equine therapy experience had been so far, anyway! They were just keeping up with it, staying on theme. Beck was close with his family, too, which was always a green flag. "Aww, I love that. Does most of your family live in Blackstone Ridge, then?" She asked, trying to occupy him with more questions so he didn't get the chance to ask about the disaster that was Sara's family.

Beck listed off all the names of his horses. "Snickers. Genius. I love Snickers." What she wouldn't do for a chocolate bar right now... Maybe she'd treat all her progress today with a Snickers from the gas station on the way home, huh? "I love all of those names! You did a great job!" Sara exclaimed, clapping her hands together once for effect. And Banjo was the name of his dog. "A quintessential dog name, if you ask me." Not that her opinion held much weight in that department, since she'd never owned a pet in her life. But Banjo was definitely the name of a movie dog; she'd heard it before, for sure. "You'll have to show me some photos of everyone." The horses and Banjo.

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron was Beck's pick for favorite movie. I loved that as a kid. "Is that an animated horse movie?" Sara guessed, expression brightening up with a smile. She imagined little Beck sitting in front of an old box television set and watching it. "You've been a cowboy from the very beginning, ay?" Now she imagined little Beck sitting and watching while wearing a tiny, child-sized cowboy hat.

You can have higher aspirations for yourself than not falling. "I'm working up to it!" Sara replied, shooting him a moderately playful look; one that said you better be nice to me. Again, she followed his instructions, tugging on the reins to get Smoke to stop in her tracks. She did, and Sara's grin got bigger. She nodded along to more instructions, and then hesitantly told Smoke to "walk...?" like it was a question, not a command. She squeezed the horse between her legs, just ever so slightly, and Smoke started to walk. Sara relaxed her thighs, eyes wide in Beck's direction. "I did it." Again! Wow. She remembered what he had said earlier: pull right to go right, pull left to go left, and she guided Smokey around the edge of the fenced-off area with gentle use of the reins.

After a few laps, when she finally felt completely comfortable with it, Sara pulled the reins in and Smoke, ever the good girl, stopped. "Wow. I just did that? I -" She shook her head, a little bewildered. "Are you proud of me? I'm proud of me." Sara smiled, giving the horse a thorough pat. Now came the dismount. "Okay. Scratch that. I have no fucking idea how to get down." She blinked over to Beck, pleading to him through the depths of her dark brown eyes.

[carolineweav]

"Oh, my meds were super helpful once I gave up drinking." She said, with a small laugh. "I used to be horrible at school, but when I did a business course not long after moving here, I actually did well on it." She said, with a proud smile. All throughout her childhood, people told her that she was smart but lazy. Caroline didn't feel smart, though. And she was trying as hard as she could. Generally she just thought she was a bad kid and there was nothing she could do about that. She cried in the doctors office when she was diagnosed. Her medication gave her more confidence, but she would always carry that trauma.

"Manhattan School of Music." Caroline said, when Sara asked what school she did her year abroad program in. "It was good to be in a university actually dedicated to my passion. And the city had so much to offer music career wise." She said, with a small smile. As happy as she was here, she did also love her time in New York. "I do. I have a five year old son called Oliver. And he is my world. My whole world. No one else matters more than him."

Caroline did start flirting with Sara, mainly because she saw this beautiful woman who was insecure. Caroline enjoyed flirting, and thought she could make this woman feel a little good about herself and have a bit of fun at the same time. Where was the harm in that? "Oh, I'm not just being nice." She said, giving the other woman a wink.

"I do come here a lot. I like the staff here." She said. Maybe a bit too much given that she slept with both Henry and Benny. Though she did not enjoy her time with Henry, so maybe that was a bad point. Benny, though? Benny was a lot of fun. The perfect "blow off some steam" lay. "Interesting? What happened?"

[sara-iyer]

Caroline knew firsthand how ADHD meds and alcohol didn't mix well. It was nice to know that once she'd gotten sober that the effects of the medication were fully realized. "I love that for you." Sara replied, listening to her intently. "A business course? Nice! What do you do for work?" She asked, but got a pretty good idea once Caroline told her about university. Manhattan School of Music. "Aww, you're a musician! Tell me more about that!" Sara asked, shaking the ice cubes in her glass - the only remnants of her drink. She messed around with the straw some more, though, stirring it around and clinking the ice together. This was now the second musician who had hit on her in a fortnight, by the way. They had a reputation for a reason, huh? "New York has the world to offer." She agreed with a grin. It would always be her home. Brooklyn and Manhattan. So much more than Long Island ever was, that was for sure.

Oliver was the name of her five-year-old son. And he is my world. My whole world. Sara tilted her head, audibly aww'ing. A mother's love was something else, huh? She tried not to think about it. That kind of unconditional love and devotion. It made her miss her mom, and she didn't want to dwell on that right now. Didn't want to be like her father, sad and mourning at a bar. Alcohol or not. "Oliver. Do you call him Oli? Show me a photo!" Sara asked, swiveling around more on her bar stool to face Caroline directly.

Oh, I'm not just being nice, Caroline winked. Sara ducked her head, every inch of her skin hot and flushed at the overt attention and flirting. Caroline was the definition of beautiful, and out of her league, and Sara didn't know how she felt about dating (or doing anything else) with somebody who had a kid. It wasn't Caroline's fault, or Oliver's - Sara could just barely look after herself, and it added a layer of complicated that she wasn't sure she knew how to deal with. And she didn't know how to voice that, so she smiled meekly and flagged the bartender down for another glass of Coke. "Do you want another juice?" She offered, polite.

Caroline came to The Whiskey Barrel a lot, apparently, and liked the staff. She probably knew Benny, then. "Um, well, I got hit with a dart, actually." She laughed a little at her own expense before tugging the collar of her dress to the side to show Caroline the tiny wound that had only just recently started to scar over. "Do you know Benny, the owner? He helped me out." Helped her out of her dress after, too, but Sara didn't want to tell Caroline that when she'd just been openly flirting with her. And things had gotten kinda weird there at the end between her and Benny, anyway. It felt awkward to bring up, especially if they were friends. Or if she was one of his many sexual partners. "What do you make of him? Benny, I mean." She asked, trying to pass it off as a casual, inconsequential question.