#but nobody cared back then so I was like 'perhaps they aren't good enough'

[ndostairlyrium]

A wardrobe a pyromaniac and a goth walk into a bar...

A revamp of a thingie I did back in 2016 (under the cut). They grow up so fast 😭 LUCKILY

[darylbae]

hi new tumblr writer :3

I would give anything for vampire daryl (perhaps gender neutral pronouns)

smut, angst, fluff, idc. just give me vampire daryl (please)

pretty little thing — daryl dixon 🩰

in which vamp!daryl finds you in the woods, but doesn't have it in him to feed on you

note: im new to vamp!daryl so this will be very short, however if you like it i can make more!!

Daryl has had urges. Urges to feed, urges that are biologically something he can't help. He's always had these urges, since before the world fell apart, however it was easier to maintain back then. Now, with resources being limited, it was harder. It was even harder to keep this from the people around him. Nothing tasted like human blood. No deer, squirrel, or rabbit would ever taste as good as a human.

Daryl would wake up early to feed, and go to bed later than the rest of the group. He'd managed to hide it well, nobody had questioned him yet. Even when the people they'd butt heads with would disappear and no longer be an issue. Blood on him, on anyone, wasn't out of the ordinary anymore. It was another early morning, Daryl had his crossbow slung on his arm. He walked with purpose, not having fed on any human in a while was making him ravenous. His boots crunched on the leaves as he left the rest of the group, finally getting into the woods to look for something filling. With his heightened hearing, he couldn't hear much. Couldn't smell anything close by. So it would be a long journey ahead of him.

He'd trekked through almost half the woods now, after picking up a sound a while ago, he believed to be getting closer to it. He growled to himself, just wanting the metallic taste sat on his tongue again. It had been so long. There it was again. That sound. That faint whimper in the distance. He'd picked up speed, trying to be light on his feet, but it was no use. He needed it. Now. There you were, clutching a tree with tears rolling down your face. You were a treat. He'd approached you, and of course you were apprehensive, like all smart girls were. But you were so desperate, that you'd reached out for him. "Please..." You yelped, putting all of your weight onto him, "my leg, it hurts." Daryl held your waist, looking down at the blood sliding down your leg. Like a warm chocolate drizzle on a cake, you looked good enough to feast on. Daryl noticed you had only shorts on, not entirely practical for the world you live in, and a jacket with a utility vest wrapped around you. Boots too, great choice. He could smell you, so sickly sweet. "Aren't you a pretty, little thing?" You looked up at him, brows tilted upwards and pure innocence in your eyes. "What happened?" He asked, pushing you backwards gently to lean on the tree behind you. He'd brushed some hair away from your face, before slowly bending down to be level with your wound. A gash on your thigh, not deep enough to be fatal, but needed to be wrapped up. The smell of you, of your blood, was getting to him. He needed it, more than he needed air in his lungs. But he couldn't. Usually his impulses were impossible to control, he'd be onto a human before he could even blink, but you... He wanted to enjoy you, he didn't have the heart to hear you cry again, because of him. He'd dragged his thumb up a line of blood that had trailed down your leg, bringing it to his mouth to enjoy. You were so out of it from blood loss that you hadn't even picked up on it. And if you did, you were past caring. You were still crying, as he'd stood back up, his height very much towering over you. "I need t'wrap it up," he stated, his eyes trained on the curve of your neck. The perfect space to have a little taste. "Ya gonna to have t'come back with me." You just nodded. You were probably going to bleed out, so either way you'd die. So you were betting on this man being good. "Want me to carry ya?" He asked, and you nodded, unable to put any pressure on your leg. Smirk plastered to his face, he inched closer to you. He was breathing you in, slowly feeling himself becoming addicted to your scent. He wanted to have you around, to enjoy you more. He'd have to feed another way.

[frickingnerd]

people will talk (no matter what)

pairing: junpei iori x gn!reader

summary: when a group of girls makes fun about junpei behind his back, you stand up for him! only that junpei has been secretly listening this entire time...

tags: mutual crushes (junpei & reader), protective!reader, angst with a happy ending, sees!reader, vague mutual confession

“what's your exam score?”

“mine is pretty low… but hey, junpei seems to have done even worse than me, so at least i'm not the worst in our class!”

laughter echoed through the hallway, as a group of girls stood in front of the bulletin board that the results of the last exams were on. even at the stairs, junpei could hear them, quietly sitting there and listening to them making fun of him behind his back, even though he knew it would only hurt him if he stayed and listened…

“that guy… does he even study? i mean, nobody can be that dumb!”

“you're right! he really is good for nothing! but he isn't even hot enough to be that dumb!”

again, laughter echoed through the hallway, as junpei gripped onto the hem of his uniform in frustration. that's how people thought about him behind his back? a good for nothing, with bad looks and bad grades?

“that's not true–!”

suddenly, a familiar voice snapped junpei out of his thoughts. and even the girls who were just making fun of him seemed to be startled. as junpei listened in closely, he recognized your voice. you were the one who moved into the dorms recently! the one who seemed to have potential to join S.E.E.S.!

“junpei might not have the best grades, but he's not stupid! perhaps academics aren't his strong suit, but he's a hard worker! even late at night, he's studying with the others at the dorms! so, don't talk about him like that–!!”

junpei needed a moment to realize what you were talking about. what you had mistaken for nightly study sessions actually were trips to tartarus. though it was true. he gave it his all when it came to S.E.E.S.! he was working hard on becoming stronger and useful to the team, leading to his grades suffering because of it.

“w-what? what are you even talking about?”

the girls that you had confronted seemed perplex that someone would actually stand up to them, especially for junpei iori, of all people!

“is he like… your boyfriend?”

“yeah, why do you care so much about that loser?”

junpei quietly left his spot on the stairs, to sneak a glance around the corner at you. and there you were, hands on your hips and an angry look on your face, as you scolded those girls.

“he may not be my boyfriend, but i still care about him! i think junpei is a great guy! and if you don't know him, you shouldn't talk about him like that! he deserves better than that!”

some of the girls have gotten a bit quiet, almost as if they were starting to regret what they said.

“well… w-whatever!” one of them huffed. “guess he's someone's type, even if we can't see anything good in him~!”

with a last dismissive comment and an eye roll, the group of girls left the scene, leaving you all alone. or rather, leaving you all alone with junpei, who had been listening in until the very end.

“that was… really nice of you!”

you jumped surprised when you suddenly heard junpei's voice. as you looked around frantically, you spotted the boy by the stairs, walking towards you with a sheepish smile.

“j-junpei? i–”

you panicked a little.

“since when were you here…?”

“before you joined the conversation…”

“oh…”

there was a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, as neither of you quite knew what to say. junpei didn't want to make any assumptions based on what he heard, while you worried that he might realize why you were defending him.

“i– i’m sorry!”

you eventually broke the silence.

“i'm sorry that you had to hear that. but… they were wrong about you! i think… you are a great guy, junpei! a really, really great guy…”

you could feel your cheeks heat up as you said those words, staring at junpei, unsure if you wanted him to understand what you meant or not.

“you're… pretty great too!”

junpei replied with a sheepish smile, gently bumping his fist against your arm.

“standing up for someone like that… i couldn't have done that, i think. you're much more confident than i am…”

“n-no, i– i'm not confident at all, actually…”

how could you call yourself confident if you couldn't even tell junpei you had a crush on him? talking about him behind his back was easy! in that regard, you were just like those girls. but saying it to his face was the hard part.

“you're… not?”

junpei seemed a bit confused.

you softly shook your head.

“if i was confident, i… well, i would–”

i would confess to you, right here and now! that's what you wanted to say. but you couldn't get those words out.

“i think i understand you…”

junpei rested a hand on your shoulder and smiled, noticing how nervous you had gotten.

“you don't have to say it, if you can't do it, you know? not like i could blame you for it! after all, i'm the biggest coward of all. i couldn't even stand up for myself, nor could i say what i think you mean to say. so it's alright if you can't say it! i think i still get what you mean…!”

[tiredspacedragon]

Thing about me is that I'm a huge softie. I want everybody to get happy endings and be alright in the end. And that's great for fluffy headcanons. But when I actually buckle down and think about my ideas for how things would go post-canon, it's a little rough. Because the point of Marendar is to kill Toa, and to have it show up and be defeated or change sides or what have you before doing any Toa-killing would just be a cop-out (especially after 10+ years of irl buildup). So that means some Toa gotta die. But who?

On that note, here's a potentially gruesome poll. Pick whichever option you think should happen most, and add anyone else you think should bite it in the tags.

Would have added options for surviving, non-zombified Toa from the Red Star, and Nobody <3, but alas, ran out of room. Also, Krakua isn't here because he has to survive to do the whole "lone guardian of an island fortress" thing and send Vakama that Kratana-induced vision he got back in Time Trap. So his survival is guaranteed. Everyone else, not so much.

Some anti-propaganda (reasons they all should die *evil laugh*) below the cut:

Toa Nuva: Would there be a bigger gutpunch than this? The flagship characters, the six heroes with one destiny! But that destiny is complete now, they don't need to be kept alive anymore. Imagine how much it would shake things up to take them off the board, how ruined the survivors would be if only a few of them went down. Wouldn't it just be so juicy?

Toa Mahri: They're one down already, so it's not like you'd be breaking up a complete set. Besides, we all know they're built for tragedy at this point. Jaller and Hahli could fall together. Hewkii could go down in front of Macku's eyes. Nuparu could sacrifice himself using one last invention to stop Marendar, perhaps making up for the perceived sins of the Vahki and Boxor. Kongu could accept death as it takes him, at least now he might see Matoro again.

Toa Hagah: These six are prime candidates, aren't they? Important enough for it to hurt, for us to care, but not so important that they aren't expendable. Never truly frontrunners. Named characters it's safe to kill. What more could you ask for? I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out Greg had planned to kill them so he'd never have to describe Gaaki, Bomonga, Pouks, and Kualus' appearances. Plus, Norik dying just after getting to see Varian again? Or even just before? Doesn't it hurt so good?

Takanuva: He only needs to live long enough to end the civil war between the Great Beings, but after that, if Marendar is still in play, he's fair game. What do you say? It would torture him more to see his friends fall while he lived on, but there is something poetic to "Takanuva, the first and greatest Toa of Light, whose life burned brightly, but quickly."

Yesterday Questers: These three are like the Toa Hagah, but even safer. Named characters, important enough for their deaths to matter, but brand new, without much audience investment. Besides, they're asking for it, aren't they? Ancient Orde, the chip on his shoulder as old as he is, could finally know peace in oblivion. Perhaps Zaria's death would finally clear his guilty conscience. And Chiara... Does anyone actually like Chiara? Would anyone miss her? Are these questions she asks herself? And wouldn't it hurt to hear her ask them in her final moments?

Varian: Talk about tragedy. Thousands of years, locked in a tube, dead to the world. Unaware time is even passing. And when she finally awakes, it's only to die. A waste of her character, perhaps, but if you don't mind fridging, it would piss off Norik somethin' fierce.

Tuyet: Doesn't she deserve it? And you know, Marendar does track Toa Power, and there's no greater source of that than Tuyet and the Nui Stone. It would be gunning for her. And it would be so deliciously ironic. All that power, all the effort she put in to get it, and it would be utterly useless to save her in the end. Her dreams of empire ground to dust in seconds, right before her eyes, as Toa Tuyet dies one last time.

Helryx: Think of the poetry. Marendar, the Toa's bane. What more worthy opponent could there be for the first Toa's last stand? It practically writes itself. Helryx has done her duty. The will of Mata Nui has been carried out. This is her perfect chance to go down fighting on her own terms, not as the leader of the Order, but as a Toa once more.

Lesovikk: This guy is Orde and Zaria but worse. He wants death so bad. And what else is there left for him to do? Karzahni is dead. His Matoran are found. What, will he become a Turaga and gift his power to the next generation of Toa? Will he wander the woods and care for the animals? Will he find joy and beauty in living? Lame. He misses his team so bad? Let him join them.

20-odd nameless mooks: By far the safest option. A Toa-killer would be pretty pointless if it never killed any Toa, but nobody said it had to be anyone we cared about, right? This is the best of both worlds. A pile of bodies to make Marendar a credible threat, but nothing and no one of consequence lost. A perfect solution, right? Just uh. Hope you don't have any OCs in here.

Mutants: The Dark Hunters are scattered, vulnerable. If these lost souls haven't found the greater group yet, they'd be easy to pick off. Good options too, right? Actual characters, so their deaths have some weight, but not major ones, so they won't be missed. Guardian was killed off in Reign of Shadows for those exact reasons. Why not have Savage, Spinner, and Prototype carry on the tradition, and tie off some loose ends in the process?

Shadow Takanuva: Sure, it might suck for their home universes to lose their Takanuva like this, but hey. If you have a whole army just sitting around, might as well put them to use, right? The fight could be interesting to watch too. Shadow might be the only element Marendar has no countermeasures for, since Toa of Shadow were never meant to exist. Maybe this is how it's finally beaten, after taking several alternate Takanuva down with it, of course. Besides, Melding Teridax flattened several of them already, so it's not like they were all making it home to begin with.

[nightowl33art]

So I totally forgot to post a bit. Apologies lol it's been a tough June I've got some more Monologue for y'all!

Minor infodump time:

Marshall McCoy, born sometime in the 19th century! A jack-of-all-trades who lived simple. He was mainly known for being a wrangler and farmhand. When the chupacabra killed off most of the town's livestock, people were forced to hunt the beast down. Marshall heroically volunteered to use his acquired skills to join the hunt.

Along the way, he made a terrible mistake, fell off a cliff, and became mortally wounded. It's said he found the chupacabra, but nobody can really be sure. Its reign of terror ended in the following weeks. After his body was recovered, they buried him. That's where he lay for over a century.

Eventually The Substance seeped into his resting place, becoming one with his disturbed corpse, breathing new life into it. He made his way to the cesspit. He lives in the shadows and keeps to himself. The mysterious cowboy is often viewed as an outsider. He knows how he looks to others and prefers it that way.

-He refuses to open up or share personal information with many. if you try to interact with him, he'll silently stare, perhaps mutter a response. You need to slowly work your way into the sweet spot where he'll start talking. When he's engrossed in a conversation, more of his personality shows.

-Monologue is ambidexterous. He prefers his right hand for more tasks, and often hides any left-handedness, since back in his day, left-handedness was ostracized. A bit self conscious when he realizes he's using his left hand in front of others.

-His design heavily takes off of elements of his demise.

-He's mixed race! Haven't fully decided what's in his blood, but I'm currently thinking at least Black and Hispanic heritage.

-Cares about how he looks. Knows he's a cool, distant mystery and has always liked others to view him so. A lone wolf who sticks to his guns, literally and metaphorically. He'd much rather be a background perplexity than the center stage.

-Very determined once he's set to a task. Back in living days he'd neglect his usually maintained appearance to further himself in work.

I gotta post more of my toxicsonas-- you get this for now. I should say though that he does have connections to some of them!

Good luck making sense of all this lol. The second image is kinda incomplete but I don't really care. I look forward to sharing more eventually. In the meantime I'll tide you over with brief descriptions on bonds with others.

-Vivi: I don't know what they are now and they probably don't know either! But whatever they have, it's positive. Vivi with her outgoing nature wants Mono to feel comfortable and appreciated, seeing his place in the cesspit. To her, he's mysterious and charming! His inner thoughts on her aren't known at this time.

-Hex: These two have lots of synergy. They work well together and get along. Mono has opened up to Hex a bit.

-Phee: Monologue may be clever, but he's not always the smartest. To him, Phee is a strangely social but pretty girl. She's been flirtatious with him and it has flustered the guy. While he's noticed her fixation on money, he hasn't pieced together that she only flirts with him for fun and is gold digging. She's not going to look his way nearly as much as she does now when she finds out there's no cash.

-Wattson: Interested in Monologue, feeling there are things they could learn from and about him.. especially pertaining to his death. Mono is neutral- not really caring about Watts but not enough to dislike him.

[emiliasilverova]

[FIC] Achillean Delights

So. I didn't post anything here for the last two days, trying so hard to finish this fic... and just as I'm ready to post, AO3 is DDoSed by greedy arseholes who like neither smut nor LGBTQ+ content.

How ironic.

Ain't nobody stop me from posting shameless LGBTQ+ smut, and you from being able to read it. I did create a Dreamwidth (that I'll likely use to backup my AO3) but I'm too lazy to set it up for now... therefore, see you under the cut for the fic in question (both for length and spice 🌶️).

Before anything, my memory is good enough to remember exactly how I tagged this fic, so there you go:

Title: Achillean Delights Chapters: 1/1  Fandom: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond - All Media Types  Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Relationships: James Bond/Alec Trevelyan  Characters: James Bond, Alec Trevelyan  Additional Tags: One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Banter, Oral Sex, First Time Blowjobs, Edging, Power Play, Boys Being Boys, Decadence, Developing Relationship, James Bond Is Good At Sex, Shameless James Bond, Alec Is A Spoiled Brat, They Shared Everything, MI6 Cafe 007 Fest 2023, Community: MI6 Cafe | mi6_cafe  Word Count: 1529 Summary:

Alec spends a lovely, lively time in James's expert hands—not to mention, expert mouth.

As always do give some love to @samanthahirr for the lovely beta ♥️ Some edits she made here are especially *chef kiss*

And now, do enjoy the fic, hehe.

***

Is Alec the victor or the vanquished in this moment? Hell if he knows. All he feels is the supreme pleasure shrouding him whole—sending warm waves through his body, robbing him of any articulate thought.

He’s splayed on a velvety armchair, one of his favourites among the many antiques he owns. All he wears is a wide open shirt; the way it exposes his chest paints an even more indecent picture than if he were naked from head to toe. His bare legs are parted wide; one of his hands curls into short, thick dark hair. Wet sounds and heavy breathing fill the air, their obscenity a heady aphrodisiac.

This is the most exceptional blowjob Alec has ever received, no question about it. He could stay like this forever—head empty, cock surrounded by warm, luscious lips. Very talented lips, of course; Alec wouldn't settle for any less. Or would he? On second thought, skill alone has never made him quite so intoxicated. Perhaps, then, the defining factor isn’t what, but rather whom he’s surrendering himself to.

Case in point, James Bond.

The sight is mesmerising, almost surreal to Alec. James bobbing his head up and down, catching some air and getting right back to work… all with genuine, communicative enthusiasm. James, of all people. The friend, the rival Alec has known for more years than he’d care to count. The man he thought he’d never fuck outside of his most outrageous fantasies, here in the flesh.

Not so long ago, Alec would’ve refused to believe that James could get on his knees of his own accord—let alone with such absolute confidence. Yet there he is, giving a bravura performance as if it were nothing. 

Warmth, wetness, pressure… they're all applied to perfection. Alec can't help but dip his head back and close his eyes, clawing at his own chest to suppress a moan. What little control he has over James or himself quickly dissolves as he drifts off into sweet abandon. Right where he wants to be; dangerously exposed, but in the safest of hands. 

Without warning, James marks a pause in his ministrations. Alec springs back to alertness, but his muscles aren't as quick to engage. All he can do is watch as his long cock drops from James’s mouth. It feels heavy as it rests in the unbearable cold, a deeper shade of red than just a minute ago. 

“What’s so funny?” Alec breathes, catching the hint of derision in James’s oh-so-tantalising grey eyes.

James stands up and takes hold of the shaft’s upper half. When he gives it a gentle squeeze, a glistening bead of precome appears at the tip. “I never figured you were so messy.”

Too languid to fight back, Alec squints. “Good thing you’re here to clean the mess, then, isn't it?”

“Is that all I'm here for?” 

Now James strokes with just his fingertips—too softly to give Alec what he wants, but enough to keep him hard and aching for more. An unacceptable ordeal. Alec’s first instinct is to thrust his hips upwards for more stimulation… but James removes his hand at once. The bastard.

“Your mouth, James,” Alec hisses.

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“Oh, spare me the aphorisms, damn you.”

Alec lunges to pull James’s hair. Less of a dirty move than leaving him high and dry, in his mind. James catches his wrist before he can succeed and drives him back into his seat. Then James bends, inching his face closer and closer. Alec could use his free hand to force it down, but decides to hold James’s cheek instead. Their lips touch; soon enough, they lock into a passionate kiss.

Tasting himself on James’s tongue isn't as intimidating as Alec expected. In fact, it dissipates the last inhibitions he was clinging to. He shifts and captures James’s lower lip, resolute to take the lead. James lets him have his way, but still provides a little resistance to spur on Alec's ardour. The battle ends when they both run out of breath, bringing them to a brief standstill. 

“James…” 

Alec’s whisper is very much a plea at this point. In response, James cups Alec’s face and gazes into his eyes. James’s hands are warm and soothing, his smile tender—although somewhat inscrutable. What’s on his mind exactly? The relish of having Alec at his total mercy? Knowing his insufferable ego, that’s got to be it.

Feigning to go for another kiss, Alec moves his head forward… and bites the lip offered to him. Not so hard as to draw blood, but still making James recoil in surprise.

“Rude, positively rude,” James says, his tone half-disapproving, half-amused as he brings his fingers to his mouth.

It’s Alec’s turn to grin now, full of mischievous defiance. “Keep me waiting any longer, and I’ll be just as rude as you deserve.”

James snorts. The mischief proves contagious; even as he finally kneels down again, he can’t be bothered to hurry up. He doesn’t return to what’s expected of him, either. Alec moves to prod him along, but is caught short by the latest weapon from James’s arsenal—kisses to the inside of his thigh. 

The novel sensation gets the better of Alec, who slumps back into his seat. James jumps at the opportunity for petty revenge and sinks his teeth right into the delicate skin. The infuriating man knows exactly what he’s doing, applying just the right amount of bite to set his victim’s blood ablaze. 

Without realising, Alec caresses himself again. As his other thigh is given equal attention, his wandering hand finds his own erect nipple. He flicks it greedily, his delight too strong for the remnants of his self-consciousness to put up a fight. 

James’s lips on his balls send a jolt through Alec’s body. His toes curl, his hands no longer know where to go; back to his chest, onto the armrests, or into the shiny, crow-black hair—James’s greatest vanity. James licks and lightly pulls, and Alec submits. The all-consuming pleasure almost sends him over the edge, but he manages to hold back. There is no way he’ll let himself be robbed of his climax in James’s mouth, however deep under James’s spell he may get.

When it becomes clear that James’s next target is his swollen tip, Alec’s heart pounds. The moment he’s been yearning for is imminent… or would be, if James would stop teasing him for once in his godforsaken life. Instead, James laps up the slow, thin trickle at the slit, pushing Alec to feverish levels of anticipation. 

“James, for fuck’s sake—”

At last, the wet heat of James’s mouth engulfs his pin-straight cock. Alec lets out a long, uncontrolled moan as intense relief washes over him. He should be livid at how James made him beg for it a second time, but he doesn’t care anymore. This is what he wants, and James is giving it to him… anything else is irrelevant.

The fuse already burns bright within him, lit up by the fast, thorough suction up and down his length. Fingers roll his balls, while others form a tight ring around the base of his shaft, friction eased by a generous coating of precome and saliva. Alec squirms in his armchair, his breath ragged. He tries to keep up with such fervent worship as long as he can, but he knows the inevitable is upon him. 

When Alec sits up and starts pushing down on his head, James doesn’t flinch. Good boy. He keeps sucking in earnest, relentless and undaunted. As the irresistible pressure builds up, Alec’s muscles contract. This is both too much and not enough. He groans and mumbles incoherently—euphoric from being at the centre of the universe, light-headed from being so close. So very close…

Alec cries out, swept away by the force of his orgasm. James firmly holds onto his shaking thighs, but doesn’t remove his mouth as Alec fills it with warm come. Alec’s cock keeps pulsing for a few seconds, as long as it takes to release so many years’ worth of longing. There is nothing left on his mind during this incredible high… save for complete, unadulterated satisfaction.

James lets go, and Alec collapses, panting. Numbing weakness takes hold of him as he basks in the afterglow. After some time, he manages to half-open his eyes again—only to be greeted by the most handsome sight he’s ever witnessed. James looking at him with a sly smile, his sun-kissed skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat, dishevelled and untidy. Alec wants to kiss him hard, to mark him as his conquest… but that would have to wait until he can move again. For now, all he can do is smile back.

In response, James bends over him again. Alec expects a kiss, but he couldn’t be more wrong. James takes his softening cock as deep as he can, puckers his lips tight and slides off in one expert motion. He gives a few more licks to leave Alec impeccably clean, and swallows.

Alec cannot believe his eyes. “Good lord, James.”

James chuckles, shameless. Then, in his most suave tone, he answers, “I aim to please.”

[master-of-the-railway]

Awwwwww I love how the the little shunter engines play by bumping things, that's so adorable omg- just imagine a little tiny engine coming up to you and bumping your leg wanting to play (of course that would be before they got big enough to cause any damage from bumping lol)

(Also I'm the anon from before, back again lol. I'll probably be coming back around here now and again lol)

Happy to have ya!

Thomas and Percy likely participated in shunting behaviors too, which is where they built the foundation of their friendship with Diesel. The little engines had instinct but beyond that didn't really see differences between each other, Diesel just saw two more kids to play with who also like to bump things around. The workers were all big fans of the kiddos when they first came around (not to say they aren't anymore! they still love the little guys) and even if they were a little rough, there's nothing more adorable than coming in to work at Tidmouth and get greeted by Percy bumping right into you and tweeting a hello at you. There's plenty of pictures that exist of workers playing or sitting around with the kids when they were tinier. Their fellow machines all very important to their upbringing, but so are the humans! Carly liked to throw things around with her hook when she was younger, just learning how to use it by making up games, though this was a bit more of a destructive habit as she didn't have solid control of her actual crane appendage at the time and she didn't have a sense of what she should and shouldn't throw around. Nobody got badly hurt from it! Buut accidents do tend to happen with little machines, though it was mostly just objects getting damaged. Thankfully the Cranky and the dock engines were there to guide her and show her better ways to practice. Kana was an incredibly hard to keep up with kid once she got her wheels going. Kenji was more often than not overworking himself to both do his own jobs and come see his father to help him keep Kana under control. For context: In my AEG au at least, Hiro was entrusted to a historic railway in Japan that takes care of and preserves old japanese rolling stock, he still does the work he used to, but his current home yard is a very quiet and chill place. It's a very good life for him and he enjoys it greatly, there's tons of visitors every day and he still has a lot of work he can do to still feel useful. Hiro may be an experienced engine and he may be a completely refurbished and renewed one thanks to the constant care he undergoes at his home, but he's still old and even at his prime he couldn't catch a speeding bullet train. Not even one as young as his new daughter. Kana got to rolling right the earliest out of the bunch, and despite how young she was and easily tired she could get, she actually managed to run for a good while before needing a recharge. They couldn't bring her to where Kenji and his fellow bullets are stored because there just isn't room for her. But there WAS room at Hiro's home. Kenji ended up getting time off from his actual job in order to stay at Hiro's yard for a time and keep an eye on Kana when she experienced her engine zoomies. Eventually, a few years after Kana had arrived, Hiro and Kenji agreed that perhaps Kana could stay on Sodor? Hiro had visited the island to see Gordon's children some time ago and he noticed that Sodor had a much more adapted environment for little engines. It'd be easier on Hiro (as much as he would miss having her around all the time) and Kenji wouldn't have to take as much time off of work. So they struck a deal that Kana would stay with Hiro's friends on Sodor (Gordon and crew up at Tidmouth), and she'd be brought over once (sometimes twice) a month to spend a little while with her dad and brother in Japan, and she loves the routine! She has her awesome Sodor friends but still gets to be with her family.

[kylowritten]

If the Slipper Fits

Pairings: Kylo Ren x ForceSensitive!Reader

Summary: Nobody wants to be the woman whose foot fits that slipper.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: DO NOT READ if self harm is something that is or can be triggering for you. Message me, and I can fill you in with what happens in this chapter without including it. Self harm, self flagellation.

A/N: Woo, Part Ten!! I’ll be honest, this story took a dark(er) turn that I wasn’t expecting. Sometimes I write with a vague idea in mind and it completely turns into something else. I wanted to show Kylo’s conflict, and his devotion to a certain you-know-who. (Not Voldemort, of course, but another unsightly villain)

Part Ten

In your lap, beneath the table, you clasp your hands to keep them from trembling. Whether from surprise or anger, you're not sure — this is the man that had control over Kylo, whose ancient magic you were somehow supposed to reverse. He stares back at you evenly, apparently not at all aware of your discomfort.

This was the man? He had an avuncular face, lined with age, and sharp brown eyes. You weren't sure if it was your own preconceived perception of him, but you had a hard time reconciling this man with the one you had been waiting with weary anticipation to meet.

"It's...nice to finally meet you," you tell him.

"Likewise." Palpatine's smile resembles a grimace. "The prince has certainly been taken with you. I never thought he would find a bride worth keeping."

You didn't appreciate being talked about like a stray brought in from the street. Although, perhaps that's all you were to him.

"Well, he just hadn't had the pleasure of meeting me yet," you reply.

"Kylo has always been, for the lack of a better word — obsessed — with finding his equal. If rumor is to believed, though, you don't even know how to use the Force."

The truth slices through you. It's hardly a surprise, you know very well that you don't know how to control it, but you still try to not let it show that he wounded you.

Your chin lifts defiantly. "You said that you had something you wanted to talk to me about?"

His eyes glimmer. Clearly, you've done a poorer job convincing him then you thought. "I do. It's about Kylo." If he's waiting for an invitation to continue, you don't give him one. He forges ahead regardless. "I've entertained his quest to find a bride all this time. But now he's distracted. He has a kingdom to run."

"And I'm the distraction?"

"Aren't you perceptive."

You promptly ignore him. "I would hardly agree with you. I don't think I've been a distraction to him, if anything, I'm an inconvenience."

"The prince has a talent for disguising his feelings, the few he has. He was distraught when you escaped, ravaging half of the castle in his rage. I couldn't get him to do anything. It's not fit for a prince to be so wound up in — what did you call yourself? An inconvenience."

Kylo was upset about you leaving?

You store that information away for later. You could dissect it when you weren't faced with this nerfherder.

"I was under the impression that you were rather interested in ruling yourself," you say.

"My interests are with the prince," he replies. Any facade of niceness vanishes from his face like an extinguished flame. You're not sure it was a good idea to be so blunt with him, but you weren't going to pretend that you weren't knowledgeable about his true intentions.

"You might be the Royal Adviser of the prince, but you are nothing to me." You plant your palms on the table and stand up, kicking back your chair. "Stay away from Kylo."

The Palpatine hardly looks impressed by your performance. "You defend him, but he only needs you because he thinks that you'll make him more powerful."

"Yeah, a lie that you told him."

"I may have twisted some words for my own benefits, but there's still truth in them. A dyad in the Force is very powerful indeed." Palpatine stands too, rising to his feet with careful indifference. "But not powerful enough to save him."

"But not powerful enough for you to save him," you mock later in the day. You've found yourself outside of the palace walls once again, albeit on purpose this time. Your conversation with Palpatine has replayed in your head over and over, to the point that you're unable to focus on much else.

Apparently, the only time you can get an ounce of peace is actually leaving the palace. Otherwise you're bombarded by servants, by tailors, and by countless others. Overall, you wish you would've handled the conversation differently, navigated it with more diplomatic prowess. Palpatine seemed to see right through you — how had he already guessed your mission?

It could've been that he was just lucky. You weren't sure you believe in coincidences, though.

He had poked fun at you, for your lack of Force ability. More than anyone else berating you for the same thing, this annoyed you. So, here you were, once more on the outside of the palace, tilting your head back so that your vision could fully encompass its black, monolithic walls.

Kylo said before that you needed to focus, to reach out with your magic. You were afraid, you think, before. He had been watching you and you were fresh from the rebels base, the wound in your side still bandaged.

Your fingers brush over it now. After last night, it was nothing more than a faint pink scar.

Without the transition of your wound, from angry to nearly nonexistent, you don't know if you would've believed it happened at all: the interaction in the kitchen, the way Kylo's large and scarred hands drew the washcloth over your body, his mouth pressed together.

And where was he now? You hadn't thought to ask Palpatine. You supposed that, despite being his wife, it wasn't really any of your business. He hadn't asked you where you went, after all, when you practically ran from the altar.

Although, could you hardly be at fault for leaving a wedding that you didn't want?

You push this aside. You had other, more important matters at hand.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, a guttural warning from the storm clouds gathering beyond the forest. Resolved, you turn back towards the wall.

You're not far from where you had been before. The secret panel that Lyssa showed you shimmers slightly, and you're irritated that you hadn't noticed it on your own. Perhaps that was the trick to it — invisible to enemies but not to the trained eye.

Focus. Reach out with your magic.

You remember Kylo's voice. You hadn't heard him since your first time here. Wherever he was, he did not care to reach out.

And you, intent on finally using your magic, did not want to, in case he chose to gloat.

"Okay," you breathe, "I got this."

You close your eyes and, in an effort to center yourself, inhale deeply. You smell the coming rain, the charge of electricity from the storm. You smell pine needles and grass and, faintly, the shampoo that Kylo had massaged into your hair. You think of him. Raising your hand, you try to replicate his movements, and —

Nothing.

Your arm drops.

Reach out with your magic.

Okay, magic, you think. You imagine it as a seed planted deep within you. Without proper care, it could never grow.

You coax it out, convince it to emerge from the depths; a sprout, then a vine, twisting through your bones and entangling with your soul. There's an apology on your lips. It's terribly sad that it's been there this whole time with nothing to cultivate it, that you've had this ability and all of these years done nothing to incite it.

This time as you raise your hand, you feel the magic pulsing, feel it rising from inside like the tide rising to meet the shore. It crashes over you.

Silently, you command the walls to open.

And they do — right before your eyes.

The palace walls swing open, revealing one of the many grassy courtyards that surround the inner rooms. You lower your arm in shock.

"I-I did it." A smile breaks out on your face. Suddenly your body seems too small to contain all of your excitement and you wiggle, something like a dance but much less coordinated. "I did it! I did it! I did it! Take that —"

Somehow without your knowing, a group of Stormtroopers has disgorged from the palace. In the middle of your celebratory dance, you spin around, and let out a small scream as you find them staring.

Immediately you snap into a straight position.

"Troopers," you greet them.

They linger for a moment, then continue on their way. It's not until their forms retreat that a grin creeps back onto your face. You don't even care that they caught you in a decisively embarrassing moment. You did it!

Kylo, you think, Kylo I used the Force.

There's no reply, which you find odd, but not entirely concerning. You've never reached out to him before. Still, the connection between you two feels like a very long hallway, at which the end is a locked door.

Suddenly a sharp blast of pain explodes in your mind. You collapse to your knees, clasping both hands over your head in an effort to stop it.

You blink and when you open your eyes, you're no longer in the forest. You're crouched in a dark room. You've never seen it before, but somehow you know it's not in the palace, or even your kingdom. You rise to your feet — only, it's not your body that you're inhabiting.

And you're not in control. You can't look down to examine yourself. It's almost as if you're just a passenger.

You, or whoever you are, stands and you're given a wider view of the room. You were wrong in your assumption — it's not just a room. The paneling on the floor forms almost a dock of sorts, dark, churning water on either sides of it. Several platforms branch out from the one that you're now striding down. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the surface of the water.

Kylo. You're Kylo.

Where is he? What is he doing?

You feel strangely invasive. You try to make it known to him that you're there, but you fail. You don't want to be here. Even though you're immersed inside his mind, you can't decipher his intentions, and it only makes you that much more apprehensive. Kylo's emotions are obscured from you but you sense a grim determination in him. 

Kylo reaches the end of the platform, which stretches out into a T-shape. It's dark, and you can barely make out what's laying before you. 

There's movement, and you realize that Kylo is shedding his armor and his shirt. His reflection shimmers in the water, a pale torso against the rest of the dark room. Kylo sinks to his knees again, and reaches for whatever is in front of him. It's a flog. The handle is wrapped in fabric, from which the whip of the instrument originates and separates into several different whips. 

You realize too late what he's about to do. "Kylo, no!" You shout, but he can't hear you.

His cry reverberates throughout the room. 

Pain rockets through you. Kylo is adamant about the torture, however, swinging the flog back and forth over his shoulder with steely concentration. He winces, but is now silent. Horror fills you as he continues to flagellate himself until blood nearly pours onto the floor, staining the heads of the whip. His shoulders heave in an effort to keep himself upright.

You don't understand. Why was he doing this? 

His thoughts flicker back and forth like fish in a pond, impossible to catch. But he's not being forced, or held against his will. It's almost as if he...wants this. To punish himself.

Vaguely, you remember Palpatine saying that you had distracted him. 

Was he behind all of this?

Your horror morphs into anger, so hot and fierce that you're afraid that it will burn you from the inside out. 

Then, you separate from Kylo, so that you are looking at him instead of from looking through his eyes. His eyes are shut, lashes dark smudges against his cheeks. His face wavers with pain, but it's not physical, but mental anguish. He kneels like that, head bowed, his fist held to his chest like a knight about to be honored, before standing again and gathering his things. He walks back down the platform, bare-chested, and you're given a view of his back.

It's horribly scarred from previous flagellate, raised pink scarring that's now been reopened. Horrible slashes crisscross his back, skin peeled and flayed open, crimson with blood. 

You're brought back to your own body.

You stare at your hands, imagining how it felt as Kylo harmed himself. The pain feels like a ghost, lingering - not your own, yet somehow shared. An intense sadness overcomes you. What would he have to feel for himself to do that?

The glimpse into his mind has tarnished your earlier excitement about the Force.

Pushing past the palace walls, you storm into the palace itself, ablaze. How dare Palpatine mock you and accuse you when he not only invaded Kylo's mind but gave him the motivation to do such a thing. You hadn't exactly planned out what you were going to do once you found him, or how it would play out in the overall scheme of your mission. But that didn't matter.

You were going to confront him. You wanted answers.

Part Eleven

---

@eternal-mikrokosmos

@juniperwoodwell

@judypahtootee

[the-world-annealing]

A spoiler-free review of Barbie (2023)

This is like the third post about Barbie I've started writing and then abandoned but y'know, let's just bang this thing out and be done with it.

After its trippy opening, Barbie (2023) starts us off in Barbieland: a fantasy world inhabited by an endless parade of well-dressed attractive working women, who are all Barbie, because Barbie can be anything and do anything. Our protagonist, 'stereotypical Barbie', one day wakes to the terror of Things Not Being Perfect All the Time, and is told she must travel to the real world in order to stop her life being ruined.

Traveling along her is Ken, who is by far the best character in the entire movie. Core to his arc is the fact that he's an accessory, an 'and Ken', without traits or competences of his own, and that his identity does not extend beyond being Barbie's boyfriend. As one character puts it: "Nobody cares about Ken", and in fact you could argue that Ken's main goal is learning to care about himself. There's some genuinely solid character work here, Ryan Gosling is obviously an amazing actor, and he's got by far the best musical number in the entire movie (you'll know it when you see it).

But enough about the barebones plot details: let's talk about the movie on a more abstract level.

Barbie as a comedy The movie rarely hesitates when presented with the opportunity for a gag; its metaphysics rarely remain consistent, reasonable questions get dismissed with a quip, and in one egregious example Ken betrays his final chance to explain his core arc so he can instead set up a gag about horses. That is, in itself, not something bad; movies are allowed to prioritize humor over story, comedies especially.

And credit where credit is due, Barbie is a good comedy. The jokes are funny, the pacing is slightly rushed but never uncomfortably so, the soundtrack is amazing, the Barbieland sets explode with color. There's a lot of references to Barbie products in here, but I never felt like I was watching a two-hour ad. The movie is by far at its best when it embraces its own zaniness, and for the most part it does just that.

But Barbie wants to be more than the Summer Blockbuster (pink edition) of 2023, it wants to... well, actually, let's take a brief digression to analyze some of the themes you could reasonably want to say Barbie is trying to explore.

Barbie as things that aren't a comedy There's a strain of discourse, long preceding this movie but invigorated by its announcement, where one side will say "Barbie is sexist and the face of patriarchal standards" and the other side will say "Actually Barbie is canonically an astronaut and a senator and a racecar driver, which is breaking gender roles, and thus feminist, because women can do anything".

The movie multi-track drifts these opinions for its entire length, and ends up concluding something like "Barbie represents a sort of idealized female figure, and having such a figure to project your hopes and dreams and fears on can be legitimately useful. At the same time, nobody can actually live up to those standards, so just be yourself and voice your frustrations with patriarchal standards when you encounter them". We'll get back to this in a second.

Another reading of the movie is as a sort of opposite-world mirror, one that assigns typically-female roles to the male characters and in doing so, invites its viewers to think about the way women in movies get typically treated. I'm not sure how I feel about this: I think a common failure mode for Subversive movies is to end up preaching to the choir, and I'm unsure how much of Barbie's target audience needs to hear 'when directors add a two-dimensional female love interest to a movie, this is bad'. Someone I discussed it with half-jokingly suggested that those messages are aimed at 'boyfriends who got dragged into the movie'; perhaps they are.

Now, note that Barbie, both in marketing and in the movie itself, is making a big deal out of saying something about Women and Sexism and Social Standards: its ability to credibly say something about those issues thus depends on its ability to represent these subjects accurately. And unfortunately, that's where it goes wrong.

Patriarchy Without spoiling too much, suffice to say that the real world is far from the benevolent female-centric utopia that is Barbieland. The second act explores the contrast between Barbieland and the real world; the third ends with Barbie defeating the patriarchy.

Or, rather, some weird alien mind virus that everyone constantly calls 'the patriarchy'. Barbie's patriarchy (supposedly the same one we ourselves have) is utterly individualistic: sexist ideas are introduced, men and women both instantly adopt sexist attitudes, and boom, patriarchal society where former confident career women are now submissive housewives in miniskirts. It's impressive in how utterly dismissive it is of the idea that an issue could be structural.

For instance, under patriarchy, a man will put on The Godfather and mansplain it to you. Or your male employees will judge you both for being 'too soft' and 'a hardass'. Or a man will say 'you look prettier without glasses'. Or a man may see you struggling with photoshop and mansplain it to you. As you might've guessed by now, Barbie's portrayal of crushing patriarchal norms is limited to a very particular subset; the sort of interpersonal frustrations likely to get encountered by a thirty-something managerial-class woman and her social circle. Which to be clear isn't something you shouldn't get bothered by, but it speaks to the sort of myopia that is regrettably common in certain feminist schools of thought.

A very recurrent shape that the movie's patriarchy takes is when men receive undeserved power and attention, and it's unsurprising to see the movie's own solution come down to 'elevating female voices, maybe getting a few more female CEOs'. It's just a disappointingly basic take on sexism and how to address it, and it sours everything that the movie has to say about its chosen subject matter.

How it could have been better In a way that ironically mirrors the movie's central moral, Barbie (2023) suffers from needing to be everything at once: feminist parable, zany comedy, and surrealist art film. So it might be surprising that my proposed fix is to accentuate yet another genre: horror.

In all the movie's talk of Barbie being a sexist ideal or a tool for self-actualization or a symbol of female omnicompetence, it (deliberately?) forgets that she is a product first and foremost, and her identity and skillset is defined by a marketing department as much as it is defined by innocently hopeful six-year-olds. The idea is raised once, subtly, during a speech that isn't sure whether it wants to be a serious argument or a long-winded joke.

So to fix the movie, play up the dissonance between being a person with thoughts and hopes and fears and being an utterly artificial construct! Emphasize the contrast between "Barbie can be anything and do anything" and "Barbie can only do those things that a board of designers approved", and the terror of being Barbie in that scenario, of believing the first but discovering the second!

And there's a lot of directions you can go from there; you can have Barbie meet women who aren't marketable professionals, and learn something meaningful about the broad definition of womanhood from them, you can involve Barbieland's barbies as enthusiastic participants in the system who are more than willing to expel protagonist-Barbie once she stops fitting their mold (something loosely hinted at in the actual movie), you can introduce all sorts of human villains who want to manipulate the concept of womanhood for their own gain, whatever you want, as long as you somehow, somewhere, acknowledge that barbie's wardrobe is 90% pink (that barbie has a sizeable wardrobe) for reasons other than the Innate Feminine Need to wear that particular color.

You still get to keep the feminist angle, but instead of centering the frustrations of middle class female professionals it now focuses on the fundamentally artificial nature of gender roles: I shouldn't have to say why that makes for a more compelling core theme!

(and if your response is something like "Okay, I get where you're coming from but mainstream femininity catches so much undeserved flak that we need a movie bold enough to come to its defense." I will simply note that we seem to have different priorities on that matter)

The movie could have been this: it got so close around the midpoint! But it backs off, because it wants to tell a story about women controlled by men, not people controlled by systems. Unfortunately in doing so it becomes a much less interesting movie, and one hampered in its ability to make meaningful points in favor of feminism.

[twentyyearstoolate]

The cracking of your bones and muffled howls sound across the room. You pant, exhausted - The change is never easy. You spread out on the carpet.

A few minutes pass. You consider getting up to watch some TV. Your post transformation recovery is interrupted by a sharp buzzing. You stand and, gingerly, hit the green (or it would be, had you the proper cones in your lupine eyes) button with a pawpad, taking extra care not to scratch the now-tiny screen.

"H-hello?"

"Pete? Is that you? Aw, don't tell me you're sick too."

"Uh, well no, but..."

You hear muffled swearing on the other end. "Sorry. Look, I know you called out tonight and I said I'd honor it if I could, but, if it's not as bad as it sounds... I need you in the store. Badly. I'm across town at the Village Plaza location, Trisha's out with the flu, Kris is taking his kids trick-or-treating, and Becca's still on vacation. You're literally the only keyholder I've got left."

"I... kind of had a thing tonight."

"I get that, and I'm trying not to step on your personal life, but... We've covered for you literally every month since you started working here. Uptown's not doing so hot on revenue, and tonight's typically a big night for horror movies, y'know? If we can't generate some income at that location, corporate's going to shut it down. Please?"

Damnit. "...Okay, yeah. I can make it."

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it. Hey, get some cough drops and tea on the way bud, you sound like a wounded beast." Click.

You sigh. Of all the nights...

---

You look at your uniform. You can already tell the black slacks and purple polo aren't going to fit you. You suppose you could just go 'naked' - nobody's really going to see anything under all that fur - but you're going to be drawing enough attention as it is. Your lanyard slides over your head easily enough, and the vest, a 'one size fits all' just barely fits over your broad shoulders. There's no way you can zip it up, but at least your top is covered... mostly.

You get an idea. You rummage through a closet for some old bedsheets, tearing holes into them as you dig. Ordinarily you'd be frustrated, but tonight the rips and shreds lend an air of authenticity to your "costume." One tattered mess later, and you have yourself a makeshift kilt, of sorts.

You stoop down to get a good look in the mirror. Were it not for the rental store duds, you'd look like something straight out of a b-horror film. But you appear passable enough as an employee. Albeit one wearing an exceptionally detailed fursuit. It'll have to do.

You throw your personal effects into your backpack, grab your keys, and you're out the door.

---

Getting into the car proves to be a challenge. A beater coupe like yours isn't exactly built for nine-foot monstrosities. You roll the seat back as far as it will go and begin to squeeze yourself in as best you can, one leg first, then your head, your torso, and finally pull the rest of yourself inside. Even with your legs pressed up against your chest, your feet still reach the pedals, and you have to hunch over. You barely fit. But fit you do. You turn the keys in the ignition as gently as possible, and the vehicle sputters a bit before roaring to life. Thank god. You can't imagine what a werewolf having to call AAA would look like.

As expected, you get a few stares on your way to the store. Some clearly impressed, others quizzical, as though perhaps wondering "Why wouldn't you wait to put the costume on?" It doesn't help that even at 5:30, the roads are swarming with people, parents and children in all manner of bright flashy colors carrying buckets and bags and even a few pillowcases. You push down the part of your mind that tells you these kids would be easy prey after a night of running between houses with a deficit on their sleep. One of them smiles and gives you a big wave. You raise your claws just off the wheel and flash your canines back, in what you hope is an approximation of a smile rather than a snarl.

Finally, you arrive at the rental store. How to explain this to Trevor?

Well... It IS the night for it.

"Peter? Is that you?"

"Good costume, huh?"

"Damn bro, I'll say! Can I...?" He reaches a hand out to you.

"Uhhh, yeah, sure."

He runs his hands through your fur, this way and that. It'd feel kind of nice if he wasn't inches away from finding you out.

"Holy shit, you even got the tail wagging, how the hell'd you set that up?"

Oops.

"I've, uh... been working on this suit for a while. Used to be part-time in a costume department in Hollywood. Latex, synthetic hide, furs, a little robotics. That sort of thing."

"Shit, you should have gone professional, this is amazing! Even the face looks so real!"

You chuckle, in spite of yourself. "Yeah, smoke and mirrors have come a long way."

"Well I'm sorry you had to miss your party for this, I'm sure you'd have been a hit, but Maggie's waiting on me, she got the cutest Elsa getup, she's so excited for tonight."

"Oh I'm sure, no worries, have a good one!"

You wave your coworker off, then turn to the computer to punch yourself in - delicately. The store is modestly crowded. A few of the patrons closer to the front, after gawking at your towering form, go back to their shopping, seemingly satisfied with your conversation with Trevor.

You can do this.

---

In spite of your fears, the night proceeds rather smoothly. Ironically, you get less attention the more the store fills. Your customers have more or less the same questions and comments that Trevor did, and you get a considerable amount of practice making your alibi sound more natural. The eyes? Contacts. The muzzle? Shaped plastic joints covered in synthetics, with a veneer for the teeth. The voice? Lots of training. You get lots of kids and quite a few adults wanting to take pictures with you, and you oblige. In a way, it's kind of fun, putting aside the fact that you have to henpeck the computer keys with a claw.

However, a few hours in as things start to quiet down, a deep, gnawing hunger starts to dig at you. It's getting harder to check people out when you're starving, and... they're starting to look mighty tasty.

"Hunger..."

"Sorry, what was that?"

"H-Have a good day!"

He gives you an odd look before walking out the door a little more quickly than he came in.

You look at your backpack. You know in your heart of hearts, PB&J and Doritos just isn't going to cut it tonight. Not even close.

The store's empty. Your mind races, thinking of ways to sate your growing hunger that don't involve manslaughter. There's a burger shack up the road. You hope they're not closed for the night.

You lock up, hanging the "Back in 30" sign on the door, before hustling down the sidewalk to the restaurant. Your vision begins to tunnel as you sprint on all fours past several suitable morsels of prey, bewildered at the grey blur rushing past.

You don't notice an oncoming car that slams on their brakes to avoid hitting you. They honk, agitated at the jaywalker, but lay off the horn as you rear up to your full height. Your instincts kick in; You can't help yourself as you slash out, bursting a tire like a party balloon with your razor sharp claws. You roar out a 'Sorry' over your shoulder as you sprint to the burger joint.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you walk in and fish a fifty out of your wallet as quickly and gently as you can, before dropping it on the counter in front of the flabbergasted employee.

"Four triples. Rare. ...Please."

---

Sated, you make your way back to the store, plotting a route around the... auto incident. You're surprised to find on your return that a number of people are lined up outside the store. They cheer and clap on your arrival.

"Hey, the wolfman's back!"

"No way, that's so realistic!"

"Can you come to my party after your shift?"

You do your best to address the small crowd gathered as you make your way into the store. More questions, more answers, more photos. You're starting to regret this idea, although sales have never been better.

Eventually, your night comes to a close. The last customer makes their way out with a stack of rentals that'll probably last them the whole of November. You take a deep breath, grateful that nobody saw through your flimsy ruse.

---

You attempt to count out the register, but the tiny coins and worn bills simply weren't made for paws and claws like yours. It'll be the most cumbersome part of your night by far. Instead, you decide to empty the trash and clean the restrooms. Facing the shelves... well, you're not sure you even have enough left to make it look remotely stocked. You hit the back lights and drop the shades; Vacuuming's not happening tonight, you're already thirty minutes past your shift. You're putting things away in the supply closet when you hear the front door unlock.

"Pete? You here, brother?"

Oh no. Your boss. Your - cynophobic - boss.

"Uh, yeah, just... wrapping up."

You can hear him circling around to the register. "You're sure you don't have a cold or something? I'm sorry to have to lean on you like this, but I was out of options. Thanks for pitching in. I'll help you finish out here and we can lock up."

You suppose there's no getting around it. You just hope he's not too afraid.

The manager runs through the till, giving a low whistle. "Holy smokes, this is the best night this store's ever had! Like, it's not even close! What'd you..." He looks up from the monitor at your imposing stature. "...do?"

You give him your best approximation of a smile. He goes white as a sheet and falls back. You try to assuage him.

"It's... just a costume."

"Oh, fuck me! Take it off man, you scared me shitless!"

"I, uh... can't?"

"What do you mean you ca-" He quickly connects the dots. "You're a... a W-"

You cut him off, whispering back as well as your voice will allow. "Yes, look, I'm sorry, but... would you have believed me if I told you? I need this job. Please don't fire me."

Of all the things your boss did not expect to see in his lifetime, a giant wolfman begging for his job as a rental store clerk was probably pretty high on the list. His face flashes between fear, and confusion. Finally-

"Damnit. I'm sorry. If I'd have known, I... Well, I don't know what I'd have done, exactly. I guess I wouldn't have put you on tonight. Not that important that we be open."

"Well, at least the sales were good."

He can't look directly at you, but he nods. "No kidding. Corporate can't can us now. And hey, it's not like I can fire my highest grossing employee, can I?"

You start to smile, but think better of it. "I guess not. Thank you."

"I'll have t-" The two of you hear a van door slam outside.

"Way too late for a customer." Your boss peeks out the blinds. "Shit. We've got trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Guys with... rifles. Big ones. And daggers. One of 'em's racking a crossbow. Armed to the teeth. You better go out the back."

Hunters. You slip through the hallways, about to step out the backdoor, but something gives you pause. You check the cameras in the manager's office. They're guarding the exits. You're trapped.

You return to the front, shaking your head and making a circular motion with your paw. The manager swears under his breath. You both look around the store for a means of egress, but nothing comes to mind. Except...

You both lay eyes on the Frankenstein mannequin at the same time. He raises an eyebrow at you. You shrug your shoulders back. The two of you heft the Frankenstein back into the closet, and you stand on the podium, taking an intimidating pose.

---

Eventually, there's a knock on the front door. Your manager answers.

"Evening fellas. Great costumes! Can I help you?"

"Uh... yeah. Listen, we've heard there was werewolf activity in the area."

"Werewolves? Like in the flicks?"

"Something like that. We've got several pictures on socials showing it in this area, even in the store. Mind if we take a look around?"

"Well, ah, I was just about to close up-"

"We'll be quick." The hunter shoves his way past your boss, immediately clocking the silhouette of the nine foot tall werewolf in the back. The crossbow comes up almost immediately, the silvery arrowhead gleaming in the moonlight.

"Whoa, whoa, easy pal, don't shoot the store property, corporate will kill me if you damage the animatronic."

"Animatronic?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's probably what you've got pictures of there." Your boss turns on the lights.

"See? Just decoration."

The hunters gather around you, your boss stepping defensively to prevent them from getting TOO close. You hold as still as you possibly can.

"Very... lifelike."

"Oh, you bet! Scared the bejeezus out of me when I uncrated it!"

"You said it was an animatronic. It's not moving."

"Powered off for the night. Corporate's taking it back on Tuesday. Damn shame, it's been a hit with the kids."

"...Why is it wearing a store vest?"

Crap.

"Ah... little bit of a gag. Apparently..." He makes a show of checking your nametag "...Peter thought it would be funny."

"I see..." They seem to buy it, focusing back on the manager. "You haven't seen anything else unusual?"

"Nope, been here by myself half the night, dull as dishwater since customers stopped coming in. Trust me, if something was gonna eat me, it'd have happened hours ago."

"So then these pictures...?"

"You really think a 'real' werewolf would stick around all night taking pictures with customers?"

"Hm." The hunter seems disappointed.

"Sorry to kill your buzz, kiddo. Hey, as long as you're here, can I interest you in a rental?"

"No, we'd better get going. It's late. If you see anything-" The hunter hands over a business card "-Give us a call. Dark forces are at work."

"Ah, sure, sure. Happy Halloween!"

You exhale as the last hunter leaves the store. The vans pack up and leave, one by one, until the lot is empty again, save for your car and the store van.

The manager turns off the lights again. "That was too fucking close."

"You're telling me."

"C'mon, I'll take you home, we can get your car in the morning. No way they're done for the night."

You're in no position to refuse. You climb into the back of the van, and the two of you head for your apartment.

---

"So, uh, how long have you..." He asks questions haltingly, white knuckle grip on the wheel, cigarette held outside the window, focused on the road. Still trying to keep his fear in check.

"Since I was a kid. Don't know why. Mom and dad don't either."

"You ever killed anyone?" He waves his free hand. "Sorry, sorry, too personal. You don't have to answer that."

"Nah, it's fine. Came close, once. It takes a lot to pull back once the wolf brain kicks in."

"So you don't always control it?"

"Gets easier with practice. Meditation techniques, mindfulness, that sort of thing."

"Have you met any others?"

"A couple, at least that I knew of. One said he was a biker, had anger issues. The other was a middle manager somewhere in Stockton. Didn't know either of them very well."

"...What's the deal with silver? Or wolfsbane?"

"Old wives' tales. But I still wouldn't want to get shot. Or stabbed, or whatever."

The two of you let the silence wash over you. It's late enough that the streets are almost empty, save for the odd night traveler or patrol car. The rest of the world is asleep, waiting to wake to a cold November morning. Your manager pulls into the parking lot.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I mostly keep to myself on nights like... this."

"I'll start keeping a closer eye on moon phases."

"I'd appreciate it. But y'know, tonight was kind of fun, impending death by armed mob notwithstanding. I just don't think I could get away with it any other night."

"Well, we're here. I'll make sure the coast is clear."

Your boss gets out of the van and does a quick sweep. "You're good."

You hop out of the back and walk up the stairs, as quietly as you can. "Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you tomorrow."

---

You stoop into your apartment and close the door behind you, letting out a heavy sigh. Backpack hung on the coat rack, vest and lanyard off. Everything else can wait until tomorrow. It's bedtime.

You climb into the bed - ordinarily just the right size for you, but tonight, your legs would hang off the end, if you tried sleeping normally.

You usually hate how your wolf instincts try to hijack your brain, but you have to admit, this is one part of being a werewolf you actually like giving into. You get down on all fours, circling and pawing gently at your blankets until you're sure it's suitably soft. You curl up into yourself, tucking your tail in, and soon enough you drift off to sleep.

You, a werewolf, are forced to work the night shift. You really can’t afford to lose this job, so you go to work, determined not to maul anybody and hopefully keep your identity a secret.

[rhinocean]

Story number: 1

Story title: time

Always talking about time, time, time. It's going away, we're losing it, tick-tack-tick-tock, who gives a sh*t? Always complaining, there's never enough time. Blablabla, will you shut your mouth?

Now that was unfair of me. I have to give it to them. Yes, this village, they don't have enough time.

They're coming, they're running, they're flying. I don't really know what they're doing. But they're coming forward, toward the village, and they look overly happy to take take take.

What will you do? Will you play the hero? Try to stop them? Trow a stick? Does it look like that would matter? You're just so small. Nobody in that place has any weapons. Didn't need to, never had to. Geuss they could have used it now. Not really, to be honest, whatever's coming won't be stopped. Perhaps it was written on a scroll? I've never been one to read.

What will you do? Will you hide? Pretend you're asleep? Cry for help? But who would, could really, help you?

I think I've forgotten to describe the place. That's what narrators do, right? They're, no not the beast, the other talkers, are always telling me what to do. Fine, alright, uhm. The walls are like a browny colour. No, perhaps more black? Okay. There are a trillion windows on each wall. And every window is made from diamonds. Wait these people aren't rich, so maybe stone windows? No, that makes no sense. Yes, I know what a trillion is.

So perhaps the beasts, yes, it are beasts who are coming. They have clawss, like, ten on each limb. They are very heavy and big and have very good eye sight. They have lots of hair. They're all a different neon colours. The leader is purple. They can talk, but prefer to talk with their minds. Telepathy? I don't know.

Happy now? I've did some descriptions. Now back to where I was.

Did you get there by mistake? Where you just taking a walk? Were you offered? No, that last one is a bit to cruel, that wouldn't have been the case.

This village, these people are connected with each other. They're like a forest. They're roots are linked. You can't just take one of them, they will all collapse. You don't care? Well you don't get a say in this. I know your journey was long and harsh. Mountains, seas, the savannah, some cold place. I don't know what many places, okay? Cut me some slack, jeez. Point is, I understand it. But you're not allowed to take one. Their art, education, songs, trust, some other meaningfull things. They'd be hopeless with one, yes, even one, of them gone. No, you can't have that child. Or that eldery person. Or that adult. Will you stop it! A compromise? No, I won't even begin to think about it! A trade? Yes, okay, I can see to that.

Now, how do I say this. I geuss that I was the leading factor in this. Haha, surprise! I was supposed to guard this village, I think. You know, no one actually explained what I was supposed to do here. That scroll? Oh, shut up. Okay, so, I traded your child in for a- Now, monster would be a harsh word, don't say it in front of your new child! Your old one? Really, they were just collecting dust, I did you a favor. This one won't be collecting dust for sure. It's about a month old, like your previous one. Now, wait here just a second and I will come back with a perfectly reasonable explanation.

I can't give them an explanation, what do I do?! Listen, I don't work well under pressure, haven't you noticed? Those beasts, yes I didn't say monster in front of the new happy parents, but haven't you seen it? I geuss you haven't. So those beasts came and asked for a trade and how could I say no? But now these happy peppie, oh they're very happy, parents want me talk to them and they won't take no for an answer either. Another trade? I can't do that. No, I very literally can't, the beasts are gone already. Oh. You meant- To get the child back, yes, ofcourse. No, not a whole new trade, ofcourse I knew that.

Perhaps some names are handy? Okay, happy peppie parent 1 and 2. Then we have little Gremling. To rude? Okay, Gremmie than. Their old child? They won't see them back, but fine. Choco? No, that won't do. Coco. Yes, okay, moving on. Don't take my ink! No wait, just give me one more sec-

[csjwrites]

The Perfect Woman #2

If my dreams come true, will you be there to witness it?

I looked at you, with your coffee and your pastel pink physical planner that you got two of so we could match, sitting in the comfortable yet heavy silence in the bubble we shared. Nobody else present to witness my sad attempts at building bridges where there were none, and failing miserably because we don't know how to talk to each other. Because I don't know how to talk to you beyond the surface level. It's easier to just rely on the ease and familiarity of the silence.

The construction failed again when I mentioned the desire to move out of the country once I graduate. You scoffed, asked how I was planning on doing that, and when I mentioned my degree would grant me more than enough opportunities to work abroad, you said that it wasn't a good plan at all. That I should stay close to home, to family. That leaving would only bring instability, uncertainty and that I would regret it.

I had a plan. I was really making sure it was a good one, too. That you wouldn't have worry about it not working out. Now you've rejected it and I don't know what to say anymore. Do I defend myself so you gain the right to get defensive? Do I tell you you're right only to leave anyway? If my dreams come true, will you be there to witness it?

I want to argue, to say I'm not a child, and that I am capable of making my own decisions and deciding if it's really worth it. It's not the path that would've made you proud and want to brag about me to your friends, though, so it doesn't matter. "Look at her!" "I knew she could do it!"

"You'll fail."

Well, at least I tried. I resign to finding comfort in the lack of words. You're here, near, and you're my mother. I've been told you care, that you love me, and even if you can't say it, it's fine. I understand. Words aren't easy.

Loving someone you don't understand isn't easy.

When the foundations of my bridges crumble and I've got nothing but rubble and weak concrete in my hands, I get desperate, and you end up believing that it's alright, we've got time. I'm running out of vain pleasantries to utilize so I end up repeating myself over and over.

Over and over until I get tired, try to assemble my blocks again into something meaningful, and you're reminded of the fact that this is all falling apart and take offense for it.

"Do you think it's going to rain tomorrow?"

We're running out of time, you and I. This illusion permits only one form of distance, and if you won't speak to me and I won't speak to you, will it fall apart, and the only thing we'll have left is praying for my failures to bring back the proximity when nothing else will. I won't fail, of course, I'm too careful for it because you taught me to be.

So when the sun rises to shine into my tiny apartment in a city that is timezones away from you, I won't expect you to call, even if I wish you would. I'll think of you every time I remember the lack of stars above me in the city lights, and I wonder if paying for your ticket would be enough to get back the familiar yet suffocating bubble we shared.

I wonder briefly if things could've been different, if things could've been easier. I push that thought away immediately. We're not the mother daughter duos from American movies. We're people of unsaid words. People, who only understand each other in the quiet. In this bubble, in these moments, only to continue barely on the same planet as soon as the silence breaks.

Or, perhaps I'm only delaying the inevitable and lying to us both.

And maybe, if we get particularly unlucky, like we have been so far, you won't be there to see it when I finally become myself.

For now, though, the silence is enough.

[apricusnights]

Chapter Five: Beginning's End.

Location: "The Spire". The absolute center of Apricus City.

Chimera: "You realize I have to kill them all now. The brat figured out who I was and most of their little group saw my face. I hope the research data was worth it."

Masked Man: "It won't matter in the end. There is no video evidence of what you look like so the average person has nothing to go by. Besides, it isn't as if you can't change your appearance anytime you like. Or, is this perhaps about something else?"

Chimera: "Maybe I just don't like the bitch. She rubs me the wrong way."

Masked Man: Opening the box delivered to him by the white rabbit group. "Go after her if you want, she's irrelevant and therefor disposable."

Chimera: "I'm not going to make it that easy. I want her to suffer…but she can wait for now. Did you get what you needed?"

Masked Man: "This missing data from Olympus, including the notes on how my creation fared in it's one and only battle. More importantly though…our friends managed to dig up what I needed. I know where the next piece of the puzzle is."

Chimera: "What about all the data you had me gather at the club?"

Masked Man: "The Marigold clan is particularly interesting. Especially when it comes to awakened abilities..and powers that aren't exactly classified as such. All the research has a greater purpose."

Chimera: "Meaning this of course?" Motioning to a set of research notes dating back to the empire.

Masked Man: Reaching up and removing the mask before tossing it aside. "Precisely. In the end all that matters is Project Sunrise.."

Location: Guardian District.

Miranda: "Bundles of Lavender offered to pay or the damages done to the club. Guess they wanted to save face since Nava was involved. We still got stuck with the bill for the train damage though. Lowell wasn't pleased."

Jae: "What's worse is that we all came up empty handed. The rabbit masked weirdos got away with whatever was in the escape craft. I'm also gonna assume you still think we've got a traitor somewhere."

Miranda: "Keep that to yourself. Right now you and Oct are the only ones I've told about this. We can't let anyone suspect anything. I've got to come up with a way to flush them out but it'll have to wait. We need to focus on maintaining peace between the factions."

Jae: "You mentioned Oct, I haven't seen him around. Where did he head off to?"

Miranda: "Who knows. Hadrian fixed up his armor for him and he left, said he had work to do. Think that encounter he had in the helicopter might have spooked him a little."

Jae: "Yeah, and the fact he seemed to have his own agenda when it comes to the rabbits. Wonder if he knows who one of them is."

Miranda: "Never asked him too many questions. Figure that might be one of the reasons he keeps working with us. He does his thing, we do ours. I keep him on the payroll for when I find jobs nobody else can do."

Jae: "Fair enough. I need to get going. Amelia asked me if I wanted to go on a date."

Miranda: "Finally got the guts to ask huh? Good on her. Just..be careful Aryl."

Jae: "Course Ma'am." Giving a salute before leaving the office.

Location: Cherry Hills.

Ajax: "So you think you're gonna add any of them to your incredibly elite circle of friends?"

Nava: "I barely was able to speak to any of them. Just because we fought together doesn't mean I care to know them."

Ajax: "Good job at that by the way, you kicked some ass. A small amount of ass but ass nonetheless. But…I find if you fight alongside people and they don't stab you in the back..you might end up finding something in common with them. Battles are a good way to determine a lot of things."

Nava: "I'll make sure to invite them to my next tea party." Glancing over at her aShine and rolling her eyes.

Ajax: "Dickheads at the company again?"

Nava: "My parents are "thoroughly disappointed" by my actions. They've had to make a public apology on my behalf. The company wants me to read a statement."

Ajax: "They don't even give a shit about if you're ok or not. All that matters is their fuckin public image. These assholes are about to go travel the world on some "fashion show at sea" thing and I'm pretty sure that's all that matters."

Nava: "There was a time when I wish I could have argued against that but…it's increasingly obvious that you're right. You, Bonnie, and Sable are some of the only people who have ever cared about ME. Not my family name, not my work, not the company, just ME."

Ajax: "Eh fuck everyone else, you're better than them."

Nava: "I've heard rumors that the company is looking for ways to kick me out. I wonder if what just happened will give them more ammo."

Ajax: "Does it matter?"

Nava: "It used to. I don't know if it does anymore."

Ajax: "That's my girl! Just lift your top up, let your tits out, give a middle finger and send that picture to everyone. There's the fuckin statement they can have!"

Nava: "Absolutely not! Besides…I'd rather someone actually important..see something..like that.."

Ajax: "Wha.." Nava's top was suddenly thrown over his head. He frantically reached up to pull it away so nothing was obstructing his view of..

Ajax barely had a chance to react as Nava caught him off guard, pushing him back and making him fall backwards on to the sofa. Nava bit her lip as she made her way over to him…

Location: Aurora Vale.

"Redfish" sat by himself on a bench near one of the park's many small lakes. The images played in his mind over and over. All that time spent tracking her down only for her to slip away again. Now he was back at square one.

Perhaps it was even worse than before. Now he knew someone else was out there in armor like his own. No, whatever that was it was far more advanced than his armor or any he's ever seen. He knew he'd seen the symbols on the armor somewhere before but couldn't quite place where. He'd have to do some research again, not like that was hard. The Bureau had granted him access to nearly every file they had.

Still, even thoughts of his new armored foe would vanish and be replaced by his obsession with finding his friend. Was she even that? They fought together, he felt as if she was some sort of kindred spirit, or maybe she reminded him of someone. It didn't matter, this was his mission. He'd never given up on a mission and he didn't intend to start now. Square one be damned, you get knocked down and you get your ass back up.

He stood up and turned to see someone had been watching him. Something he should have detected..how long had she been there? He recognized her. She fought in the tournament, she fought alongside him when the creature attacked Olympus..he remembered her name was..

Redfish: "Solstice?"

Solstice: "Summer, and we need to talk.."

Location: Upper Docks.

Jasper: "I'm still upset you didn't wait for me."

Mel: "Oh ok, what do I say? "Could everyone hold off on fighting for a second so my boyfriend can get here?" Yeah, that would have worked. Besides, what kept you?"

Jasper: "I'm fairly sure your brother tried to sabotage me.."

Mel: "That's your excuse for everything now."

Jasper: "And most of the time it's true!"

Mel: "Yeah yeah. Anyway we're heading back to the theater. Remember we have a brainstorming session this weekend for the new schedule!" Waving at Amias and Lye before she and Jasper left.

Van: "And I'm just saying she was pretty. I don't really remember much but I'm sure it was fun!"

Nerys: "Poison lipstick Van. She was going to kiss you to death!"

Van: "And I said it wouldn't be a bad way to go! I'd have been fine with it!"

Viridian: "There's the Van Marigold humor I know and love…"

Van: "Just tellin the truth…I would have.."

Lye: "You would have what? Been happier? We'd have been better off? Do you still think that way?"

Van: "I.."

Lye: "No, you're going to shut up and listen to me. Tagetes was right. I'm sick of holding on to this. You're my brother, I care about you. All of those terrible things you did? I don't care. I may never be able to truly forgive you for what you did but that doesn't mean I don't care about my brother!"

"It's time to let this go Van. All of it. We can't live out the rest of our lives like this and you can't go on thinking we'd be better off without you. We wouldn't. You have friends, you have family, and we love you. When you were drowning and Captain Larsen pulled your dumb ass out of the water…that was your wakeup call. You have a second chance, you need to stop trying to waste it."

"Tagetes told me that I am not who I used to be. I am not a reflection of my past self, and Van..neither are you…"

She'd actually give her brother a hug before wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Besides, Chimera wasn't that pretty. You've got someone much better looking who's been trying to get your attention for a long time.."

Van: "I…" Trying to regain his composure before wiping off his own watery eyes. "Wait..who..what?"

Amias: "You really are dense…" Turning him to look at Bonnie.

Bonnie: "Uhm..hi Van.."

Van: "Bonnie? You..?"

Lye: "Oh for Tagetes's sake. She gets heart eyes every time you're playing a match against her! You two really need to just go have dinner or something."

Bonnie: "Uhm..wanna go have dinner?"

Nerys: "Yes he does! I know a great place, I'll get you two in without reservations! You'll love it!"

Van: "I'd..love to."

Location: Somewhere in Smokey Gardens.

White Rabbit (Biker): "Told you we'd get ya a new mask, all fixed up! Ya look good sis!"

White Rabbit (Scythe): Nods and follows him into a large meeting room filled with people all wearing white rabbit masks.

White Rabbit (Queen): "Ah good, we've been waiting on you. Have a seat. Now, as all of you know our plans have been set in motion. We have members in nearly every nation now and we're only continuing to grow."

"With the recent crackdowns on anything deemed to be "criminal" activity..it's become much more difficult for several organizations to operate. We will be the solution. One that is many, many that are one. A global operation that won't be based in any one place."

"The world is on the brink of being irreparably fractured. With nations at each other's throats there will be no cooperation between law enforcement agencies. Everything we desire, we shall acquire!"

"And when the fracturing ends and the new world begins to form..we'll be the ones pulling the strings.."

Location: Apricus City.

Lydia Reliford: "Good evening Apricus City. Lydia Reliford here for Apricus News."

"A continuous series of anonymous donations have set up the Delta Town Restoration Project. The project aims to fix the many issues Delta Town has faced while maintaining affordable living."

"The project is being overseen by the city council with a small amount of objection coming from the High Priestess of the Consecration. She believes since it is her district she should be the one overseeing everything. Her objection however was overruled."

"Speaking of the Consecration, Brother Julius has announced the next wave of scholars, and church personnel who will be accompanying him to what is rumored to be a long lost cathedral deep underground. The church has yet to confirm or deny this rumor."

"Our weather forecast is looking good as temperatures begin to rise a bit. Summer is certainly right around the corner. Get ready to do some gardening as experts are saying next month will be perfect to start getting everything planted!"

"That will do it for tonight, have a wonderful evening everyone!"

[wizardchicken]

Ahhhhhhhhh it's going good...?

good !!!

I'm feeling better about just calling myself a trans girl and just going with it.

that's probably the most important thing :) getting used to a new label can take some time. you gotta break it in and make it feel like home!

But now the prospect of what's next is starting to spook me.

valid !!!

Like, I don't really *have* to actually transition irl, and I don't really intend to for a while, but I'm not really sure if I just want to stay like this or not, y'know?

i definitely know. i think there's a few ways to take some baby steps to test the waters, but a lot of the time you kind of just have to take a leap of faith.

when people talk about "transition" they typically use it to refer to two categories of transition, which is socially transitioning and medically transitioning.

socially transitioning is the one that's scary for trans people, which is where you get boymoders who take HRT and pretend to be boys.

medically transitioning is the one that's scary for cis people, which is where you get legislation about bathrooms.

ultimately, depending on your circumstances, either one can be something you can dip your toes into.

voice training, for example, is non-destructive and reversible. so is dressing different. if your family and or friends are cool enough, you can try out different names or pronouns with them same as you would try on different clothes.

hormone replacement therapy can lead to permanent changes to your body, but ultimately? your existing hormone regimen has already lead to permanent changes in your body. it's called puberty. and for most transfem people, once they start hrt their main concern is that those changes aren't happening fast enough.

I've been growing out my hair but I'm starting to notice that I'm getting closer and closer to it actually being significantly longer than at any other point in my life and it's making me really nervous because I have no idea how to manage my hair or style it or make it look good in either a masculine style or a feminine style and I don't really want people asking too many questions and I'm also nervous about actually seeing myself with longer hair and...

You should go to a salon! You can poke around to see what salons near you are trans-friendly and book a women's hair appointment with them. Get in there, ask their advice on what would be feminizing on you, ask them for care instructions, just ask shitloads of questions.

If anyone questions your hair, it's literally so easy to be like "Do you like it?" and "Thanks! I've been trying to take better care of it :)" and just act totally ignorant to the whole thing. My best friend is a massive egg who's been growing their hair out for the better part of a decade now, and nobody ever comments on it.

My advice? Go full fem. You can always chop it later, but it takes time to grow it back.

And heck, maybe I'm not even trans at all and I'm just making this all up or really exaggerating my feelings or something... but honestly I'm probably not... unless??? No, probably not... but maybe... perhaps... unless...

-_-

not a single cis person on the planet has ever said this

...on second thought I don't think the jitters have really gone very far at all lol

valid :) i think they'll start going away the more you start to engage in gender affirming actions. like right now, you've just leapt off the cliff of cisness and are wile-e-coyote frozen in the air. the only way forward is to touch down on the cliff on the other side !!

It's been a week since I came out but it's felt like forever

totally! a lot of trans people keep track of their coming out day as like a secondary birthday because it's such a momentous occasion.

sounds like things are progressing as normal! i'm excited to hear about your haircut -- hopefully they have you looking beautiful!

You’ve got so much good advice <3

“Not a single cis person on the planet has ever said this”

Lollll you’re right I swear I’ll get it into my dumb mind eventually

I think I probably have a few friends I could probably come out to… I’ve just gotta work up the courage for it first. I think that it might be a pretty good idea to do so, though.

I can’t promise I’ll get the haircut… but I’ll at least give it proper consideration!!

[mistyrosepod]

Don't go to the gym for revenge, they don't care!

Dear roses,

We all know that one person who will suddenly go silent or disappear and come back with a glow up rooted in revenge and bitterness. Perhaps that person is you.

It is very common on social media, movies, song and even our surroundings to encourage us to get our act together by becoming everything the person who hurt us said we could not be.

"He broke up with me, so I went to the gym", "She unfriended me because I talk to her about my difficulties but I got rich and I'm the CEO of X company at only 9 years old".

Okay... yes I exaggerated on that one. I do hope, however, that you understand where I'm getting at with this image my dear rose. Once you have reached that goal they will have forgotten all about you.

If you were close to someone who once hurt you, there is no doubt that you love the person and found in that specific person qualities you lacked or potential you already have in you and are afraid to exploit.

Generally, there is two type of situation in such relations.

You are interacting with someone who's taking your energy

Are you helping someone who is not asking for help? Are they asking for help and aren't acting upon what they are saying? Girlie, oh girlie... Run!

You cannot help people who wouldn't do the bare minimum for themselves. Even if you had enough energy to help them initially, you would eventually fall short of that supply you're providing. Consequently, they would be left helpless with no tools to be autonomous, or even more unfair, they would become what they had always envisioned to be leaving you exhausted and confused asking yourself silly questions like:

-Why?

-How didn't I see that coming?

-I won't ever trust?

Or even declaring upon yourself words that reprogram your brain to go the opposite direction of where you want to be:

"I'm too nice. Trust nobody. Love doesn't exist. I'm a lone wolf"

The truth is though you intentions were probably ones of a good heart, if you are left with regret it means that all of your loving actions were lead consciously and with no discernment.

You are the person who is consuming energy from others

It is very difficult to portray oneself as the villain, especially when you are the one hurting.

Ask yourself:

-Am I the best version of myself?

-Am I the version of myself I aspire to be?

-Am I actively contributing in the improvement of my current self in a drive to be the person I aspire to be?

If either answer is a "no", then it is most likely that there is something that brings people close to you and repels them at the same time.

While you may be thinking that someone is helping you with a good, they may actually be genuine or simply enjoy their position as a provider in order to make themselves feel better. There is also in these cases a chance of them leaving because they see no result and end up resenting you (that's a they problem) leaving you with no tools to help yourself or the best version of yourself in appearance but a void in the inside.

This is people pleasing.

What is the common theme between pleasing people and loving yourself?

In both cases you'll have to put energy. Having to use energy means that one puts efforts into something with a purpose and a meaning.

Surely you can treat your friends to a restaurant But if you don't have enough resources, it means that you are belittling yourself by giving yourself more stress and deeming your light for the next weeks to come because you're preventing yourself from doing other things.

Surely you love him and he's got a difficult past, you can help him. But is it real love if you are facing someone else's trauma without knowing yours and your limits?

Surely they listened to you till dawn and suggested solutions, but will you face these issues and do what it takes to have an actual breakthrough and enjoy your relationship fully?

If there is one reason for you to go silent or disappear, come back shining like a diamond, the reason is You my rose.

I would love to say in this day of age, but the truth is that ever since time exists life doesn't wait for you. In fact nobody waits for us to grow.

Do not lose or gain weight for him. You'll realize that once you've become that girl your standards will be higher and you might even get the ick thinking about the past.

Do not work hard because they told you to, do it because you're getting closer to the woman you want to be in future.

What To Do:

Instead, surround yourself with people who respect you and your time alone. Not only they will set boundaries with you -which might hurt at the beginning-, they will also inspire you to create and explore your true identity.

Remember that envy and comparison only come when you admire something in someone else. Instead of giving in to these unpleasant feelings, admit to yourself how you feel and if it is genuine do not hesitate to give out compliments.

Once you have done that work within yourself you may also learn how to give your energy to the right people, in the places, in the right time.

Do not feel ashamed of saying that you do not have resources to go out if you do not have them. People who truly love you, or simply respect you will understand. They may even suggest something else that make all of you happy.

"Do not feel ashamed [...].People who truly love you, or simply respect you will understand."

In a nutshell do not be afraid to say no to energy-vampires. Do not forget that you too can be the reason of your own sorrow.

Stand for yourself with yourself and befriend your heart and soul my rose.

I hope that this was helpful my dear roses!

See you soon

Irini Julio 🎀💓

[w3as3ly]

well, she had a bone to pick like roses. she ain't feeling broken no more. balled a fist that god spent, i noticed. talking shit, did not care for their motives. i did not wonder who the fuck you were, nah, not to me. i could see right through the trees. she ain't worried now, i won't leave. she's just tryna ride, feel the breeze, with something bad, beside her, it's me.

rewind.

did not care for their motives, seeing through the trees, did not wonder the fuck they were, i wrote their sum, of three. they had a name, an algorithm, they were trees. they were worried then, up until they had to leave. wind in their face, where i had them, it didn't feel so great.

you could run until you slip on the sidewalk, and the same bone that you picked, gone, break. not a motif. instead, when i swung right back, not familiar, but, indeed, never been realer. their bones did not feel good, where they were at.

they had everyone running through the thoughts that, perhaps, would count. nah, i had enough, i added them up, yeah.

well, i put some money on forever. that's me and my girlfriend, but, look, this painting, made me feel like us being together was gambling on the weather. so i, just, watch, while. i could not look at the horizon, the walls i painted have never been closer, i just hoped i could find them, i know, ugh. hey!

well, these are my wings. that's me and you, together.

yeah.

well, moving so fast the clock look slow. time stamps, for her, watering these seeds, til the flower just grow. love so much, in this, that my heart gets broke. i don't really know how the normal shit go.

so, i guess i just play it by ear. i'm holding her hand. trust was a problem, that's alright, my love, dear. now you can keep to yourself. go out. get what you need, surf the universe with me.

all i ever want is you, with me. you have time, you are in good company. she worried about tribalism, about showing that she is following me, but, darling, look around. there's nobody who would fuck with me, it's global, the tribalism thing was a debauchery. they aren't even mad when i lose my temper.

she had a bone to pick like roses. she aint feeling broken no more. time stamps. broken hearts. wings. we get to be together. 15:22 10 july 2023.