#maybe i just like for stuff to be overly organized but i feel like the characters themselves were underutilized in the storytelling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unicyclehippo · 6 months ago

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ok so i submitted a story for a competition & didn't get far but i was pretty happy with it so imma post it here for y'all. pls enjoy!

YEAR OF THE WOLF

Blood and shampoo wash pink down the shower drain. My body aches, back hot with pain. I gotta stretch more, I think, before remembering what time of month it is.

I’m not stupid, I want that to be known up top.

Tired? Yes. A bit forgetful now and then? Certainly. Overly reliant on blind optimism? Of course. Who can afford for things to go wrong these days? But stupid? No. Not about this, anyway. I’ve known for almost a decade that I’m a werewolf. I just thought if I ignored it long enough it would stop, or at least stay low on the list of important things I had to deal with—somewhere between turning thirty and the world burning down around our ears.

Still, it manages to take me by surprise each month. I see the blood, feel the shift-pull-crack of bones and vitals, the wet throb of viscera and organs, as my body reshapes itself. The wolf and I share a space not big enough for two; something must give way.

I lose time daydreaming about it. Transforming. My only plan for the day is work, maybe video games later, cooking dinner. I could call in sick. I could clear away the bathmat and towels and fall to my hands and knees and change into something bloody and terrible and wonderful, I could lay myself down on the soft carpet in the sunrays, decadent, I could leap from my balcony, powerful, and lope away into the bush off the track to explore the silver-blue of the leaves and the cathedral termite mounds, I could—

The shower pipes groan, rattle, and spit freezing water down onto me.

I don’t transform.

I towel off. The mirror shows me a human with the same soft features as ever. Shampoo suds clinging to my shoulders. Hair cut short and plastered down on chalk-white skin paler than usual. The doctor warned me low iron was a side-effect of transformation but I look myself over for another cause. Lift my arms, twist to check my back. There’s a pimple or two where my binder digs in but no injuries. I promise the doctor in my head I’ll bring it up at our next appointment.

My doctor is a careful woman, dedicated and precise. She sits primly and dresses well—her blouse is fashionable, flowery, her trousers professional and practical. She keeps notes in a leatherbound book and her thoughts securely behind her eyes. She asked me to keep track of any changes Inoticed. I pull out a crumpled receipt where I’d scrawled some notes.

tired

hungry

headaches

more dreams than usual

tired—oh I already wrote that down. still true

irritated way more by stuff?

jaw hurts?

‘Alright,’ she says, writing it down on her page about me.

I sit hunched opposite her, then fix my posture, then let my shoulders droop again, conscious of being too broad, too big. In the time it takes for her to commit a few brief notes to paper, I’m struggling not to get distracted by the lights and their electric buzz—the popping stop and start as the filaments crackle in the bulbs. My eyes wander over neat stacks of paperwork, a penholder with all the pens pointed in the same direction.

‘We’re going to order a blood test. You’re right, the fatigue and headaches could be an indicator of iron deficiency.’

‘Okay.’

‘Do you know if there’s a history?’

‘Of…iron deficiency?’

She smiles. ‘Of lycanthropy.’

The question makes my head spin. There’s been some excitement about there being some genetic predisposition to lycanthropy (unconfirmed), which half my friends were leery of, seeing the research as another way for hunters to exterminate us, and half took to romantic spirals, daydreaming about their ancestors being just like them. But the doc is asking about, like, my parents and grandparents, and it makes me laugh.

‘No. No way.’ I think harder. Is it possible? My maternal grandparents, definitely not. But my dad’s parents…I don’t know that well. ‘I could ask, maybe.’

After the three haphazard sessions we’ve had stretching across eleven months, which chiefly feature my repeated and sustained reluctance to talk, she indicates her doubt with a quiet raised brow.

It’s fair. I don’t tend to do things I don’t want to do, even if they’re important. Sometimes, especially if they’re important.

At the end of our fifteen-minute session, she walks me to the door and beneath the stench of eucalyptus-scented cleaner that makes my nose itch and head ache, I catch a whiff of her cologne. Wood pine and wild.

I think about it all day.

Has she helped me because she’s like me? The thought races ahead of me, tempting; I sprint after it. I wonder what she wears at home. Does she google boxers for bed because they seem so comfortable? Does she veer at the last moment to Boyfriend shorts! Now in satin – for HER! Or does she kick the world off at the front door next to her shoes and just…exist. Is she like me? Just a person who does things? Or is she a woman who does things? Or a person who does woman things or a woman who does womanly things or a woman who does things knowing they’re not womanly and caring or not caring? Does she splinter the cage that would contain her and let the hungry animal of her body carry her to meat and sleep and hunting and to the warmth of her partner at rest?

Is she like me?

As a kid, I wanted to take karate. My brother wanted to sing. Somehow, I ended up in the music class. It was in a demountable that creaked, off-key, with every step and stunk of the creek next door. The singing teacher had a red round face and told me not to sing too loud—I was practicing to be part of the choir, I should be part of the group. That group was made up entirely of nervous and near-silent girls who shivered with the desire above all else not to stand out. (I learned that part well.)

On the other side of school, my brother stood in karate class with a teacher who ignored him and older boys who picked on him—he was short back then, with baby fat still on his cheeks, and had a close relationship with boredom and distraction that came from being smarter than most.

Once we figured out the joke being played on us, our places switched, we made a pact to teach each other what we learned. It didn’t last. Within three lessons, I spent more time on the walk to the classroom than in class; I dawdled in the fields and by the creek, tracking beetles and digging for dinosaur bones in the mud. When I did arrive, it was twenty-five minutes late with dirt under my nails and finally the teacher told me not to show up. My brother took a faster approach and called the teacher a moron. Mum had to pick him up early from class and neither of us learned very much.

My gran lives hours away and I never got the impression she liked me much. I think about sitting in her drawing room, the sticky-sugar smell from bottles of fancy port on the shelf, and her sitting opposite, eyes hawklike, mouth pursed and tongue sharp. I don’t visit her. I think about asking my dad instead and, while he does like me, he doesn’t like werewolves and I’m not ready to risk exile.

I get my blood drawn. The doctor prescribes iron pills and congratulates me on my teeth coming in.

My mother doesn’t like my sharp teeth or short hair or the way I sit. I want to tell her I didn’t do anything to my teeth; that if anyone is to blame for the handsome jut of my canines, the neat, careful way they can tear flesh from bone, it’s her. She made me. But saying stuff like that only opens up the room for more questions.

‘Do you like it? Looking like that?’

It will hurt her if I say yes. When you are a daughter, wanting to change means you don’t want to become your mother, which means you don’t love her.

I can’t say no.

The wolf stirs. It wants me to say yes. It loves fiercely and loves me most of all. But it isn’t the one who has to live here—work, be a daughter, a sister. It won’t be the one who has to listen to my mother tell me to be sure before I tell anyone else because there’s no going back and people will hate me for it, just for being, and that she can’t support me doing that to myself, that it’s against the god she’s never thought twice about, and has someone talked me into it?

I’m not ready for that.

‘It’s just teeth,’ I say.

She shakes her head but doesn’t ask any more questions. I think she’s scared I’ll tell her the truth.

am i a coward?

My friend Luna takes a long while to answer.

While I wait, I wash the dishes I’ve been “soaking” for three days; the kitchen smells of dish soap when I’m done and the world is a little cleaner. Outside, my balcony is drenched in sunlight. I make my coffee and sit out there, turning my nose to the wind. Somewhere close by, someone is cooking chicken loaded up with paprika. It’s more accurate to say they’re burning chicken. Next door, my neighbour digs through the rich dirt of their garden and plants rosemary and lavender.

My phone lights up.

No, she says. Then, Why do you ask?

the whole werewolf thing. i won’t transform, wont tell my family.

This reply is much faster. Definitely not.

i feel like one

First of all, you transform when it’s right & as much or little as you want & that changes from person to person. Second, being safe is not cowardly.

yeah

Do you want to tell them?

The coffee is gorgeously strong. After a few gulps, I feel like someone has brushed the cobwebs out of my head.

it’s like. there’s this version of me in their heads that isn’t real yknow. like im not a person im a cloud in person shape & sometimes they get a glimpse of my hand or whatever. & its safe inside the cloud its harder to hit me but . they cant see me

sorry i know this is teenager shit

In the distance, a fire alarm starts to blare.

No it’s good. I get it, obviously. And you know my parents were awful when I told them but we go running every month now. The question isn’t “am I a coward”. The question is, are you prepared to confront that version of yourself in their heads? Are you ready for it to change?

i wish i knew. how it would change i mean. bc i feel like if i knew for Sure that they would take it badly then that’s one thing & i could deal w that. & if i knew theyd be fine w it i could deal with That but. i don’t know. & its freaking me out. but it’s also like…ok i don’t live w them, i’ve got a job, idont rely on them for anything. what real bad consequences could there be?

Dots pop up at the bottom of the screen. They disappear after a minute, then reappear, as Luna takes her time to answer. Finally, she says,

By announcing the real version of yourself, you open yourself up to vulnerability. Things that didn’t bother you before will feel uncomfortable or hurt because it touches you. And when you change the way that you exist in the eyes of people who are supposed to love you unconditionally, you invite the possibility that they will reveal the love was in fact conditional & not for you, that you somehow failed to live up to the person they imagined you to be

mate i’m already scraping the bottom lol

You’re wonderful, Luna says, because she can tell when a joke isn’t really a joke. Her worst trait. If they can’t see that, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.

yeah

You don’t have to tell everyone. You could pick whoever would take it best & get someone on your side. When I take too long to answer, Luna sends a string of photos—her dogs, her family in matching hiking shirts, the view of the nearly full moonon her side of the world. I’m on your side, she says. Always. Let me know how it goes.

The full moon burns, beckons. We are both gloriously awake this time. I have never been more awake. The sky is a black lake and when it rains we taste space and stars and smog. The stairs are slick with the rain. On all fours we are sure, quick, eager! The grass is waiting for us! Splendid! Everything is incandescent in silver, including me. The grass—dew-wet, green scent full in our nose—invites us to roll in it, sticks its seedlings to our fur, tagalongs on our adventure. We run! Smell everything! ticklegrass wetmoss possum pee BUG rough brick mud SPIKY plant big tree lavender dog smell road gutter old leaves bird feathers vinegar shARP on my tongue bag crinkles between our teeth

The days’ heat still smoulders on the surface of the road. We are standing in the centre of it, massive, when a car crests the hill. It stops, engine rumbling and blue-glare lights illuminating us. It waits for us to cross the road before driving on. The driver stares from their seat. In one easy jump, we clear the fence and disappear.

Three more streets and the road ends. The world is huge, bigger than I could have imagined. There’s dirt here! dirt mud rocks beetles scuffling under the leaves koala musk leads to claw marks at the base of trees.

The wolf likes it when I’m awake. It wants to show me the world. Look, its questing nose says, look what you miss out on when you sleep.

It takes us to a termite mound and we listen to them sing.

We stay out all night, trekking through the pocket of national park. I am the biggest thing in the forest. Nothing frightens me. We find a creek filled with every fascination the world has to offer. Ten thousand wet stones, bottle caps, an ill-tempered fish.

When the sun rises, I am sore and covered in blood. I call my brother to pick me up. I stand by the edge of the park to wait for him; at the bottom of the hill, the highway stretches out like a grey branch, cars buzzing along it like bugs. A firefly splits off from it, flying towards me.

The yellow of the headlights cuts through the trees. Inside the car, my brother jumps when he sees me and the light reflecting off my eyes. The wolf is still awake and we move fast and strong to the passenger side door.

He knows.

I can tell. Smell it on him, see it in his uneasy posture. He knows and still I can’t say it. It feels like I’ve swallowed a bird whole, alive. It trembles, stuck in my throat. When I think about talking it pecks at my tongue and if I open my mouth, if I try to explain, he will see my bloody tongue and the bird and he’ll see me all wrong, all the ugly brutish parts of me I’d like to keep hidden, if I can.

The wolf is still awake. It isn’t scared; it is massive and powerful, it can bite through anything, it can run forever without getting tired. We can. And if there is ever a time to talk to my brother, to let him know who I am, it is now.

I do not want him to think I am a bloody-mouthed girl.

I want him to know I am not a coward. I am myself, a werewolf, alive and finally happy for it.

The wolf yawns. I catch a glimpse of my teeth in the mirror, sharp.

‘Hey.’ Of all the ways to break a very tense silence, it’s not the worst. ‘Thank you. For picking me up.’

He risks a look at me, away from the road. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’

A muscle tics in his cheek as he chews on silence. He’s upset that I won’t say more. So am I. I want to. The bird is in the way. I have always had to trick myself into talking; it is never easy, not in doctor’s office, not in my parents’ home, not in the forest, or my brother’s car.

We slow. Ahead, the traffic lights paint the dashboard red. The car shivers around us, idling. I can feel it shake through my bare feet, dirty and scratched up from the rocks, pressed to the rubber floor mats.

The first word comes out like a pulled tooth.

‘I—need to say.’ He glances my way. I think, briefly, about jumping out the window but the light turns green so I can’t. I have to talk instead. ‘I’m a werewolf.’

He drives. I realise he must have been waiting to talk, really talk, because this is the first time I’ve been in his car without music playing.

‘I think the proper term is lycanthrope,’ he says, finally.

‘Dude.’

‘Sorry. Just, medically speaking...’ He shakes his head. Drums his fingers against the wheel. ‘How long?’

‘I dunno.’ I do. A decade of knowing and doing nothing about it. Almost a year of thinking very hard about it and doing slightly more.

He knows me better than my doctor; both his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, entirely unconvinced.

‘I’m still me,’ I tell him, because that’s what everyone says in books and movies. I guess it’s what you’re supposed to say. What I want to say is that I’m more me than ever. What I want him to say is thank you, and I’m his favourite person, and that he understands how hard it was for me to share but he’s proud of me. But I would have to ask for that and the bird in my throat won’t budge.

‘Okay. Wow. So… Are you going to move? Change your name? Are you going to get claws? A tail?’

‘Okay, never ask me that again.’ He laughs. ‘And no. I don’t think so. I kind of like that it’s not super obvious. It’s no-ones business but mine.’

‘And mine now.’ I think he’s smiling, a little. ‘Why did you tell me? If you don’t want anyone to know?’

I wish I was still a wolf. If I were a wolf, I would howl and people would understand. The tenor, the tremble, the shivering cadence. There would be no need for picking the right words, no eye contact, no consequences for an ill-timed joke, no shame for feeling everything so big and weird, like there’s a forest in my chest and a songbird choir blocking up my throat. My hands itch as the claws retract under my skin and I fight to keep from scratching, fidgeting. I turn to stare out the window.

To his reflection in the glass, I say, ‘I want you to like me.’

‘Of course I like you—’

‘I’m louder like this,’ I whisper. He looks unconvinced, which is fair. I’m still hiding. ‘Messy. Bigger and stubborn and hairier and angrier. It’s not the wolf. I’m like that too. I wanna be like that. Real. I’m so—I’m so tired. All the time. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to be me and I want you to like me as me.’

My back aches as everything in me crunches back into place. The wolf is asleep and it has left me alone with my words and my brother.

‘I really love you,’ he tells me as he pulls up outside my house. He puts his hand warm on mine. He doesn’t flinch at the blood. He hugs me close. Plucks a leaf from my hair.

My brother offers to come with me to tell our parents. It probably would have been smart but I’m still wary. If it goes bad…I don’t want him to see that.

‘How did it happen?’ my mother asks when I’m done, like it’s something you can catch.

For a moment, I entertain the thought of lying.

Do you remember my uni friend? Verne? Well he’s part of a pack and if he brings in three new werewolves over three months, and they each bring in three new werewolves, he gets a bonus. Why? Are you interested in this exciting new life opportunity?

I can’t joke about it yet. Worst outcome, she thinks I’m serious about it being a some kind of cult. Less worse but still bad outcome, she thinks I’m being unserious about the whole thing. Nevermind that I have thought about it every day for ten years, this inevitable confrontation, this moment where I have to explain myself, defend my existence, back up my claims with proof and research like it’s my thesis. I tell her,

‘It just made sense.’

She likes that less than she would have if I’d joked about it, gets all stiff and pinched.

‘It doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t understand where this is coming from—you’re human. You’re not –‘ She shakes her head. ‘Maybe if you left the house more often. These things you’re imagining about yourself, if you were around more people…you’re not like that. You’re lovely,’ she insists. ‘You’re not that.’

It should hurt to hear. It probably does, in a way I’ll feel five years down the line, and I’ll wish that I had bit back, told her that just because she thinks there’s something wrong with me doesn’t make it true.

My dad hasn’t said anything.

When I look at him, he’s staring down at his plate. He eats everything on it, even the tomatoes he usually tries to hide under the broccoli stems. Then he stands, puts it in the dishwasher, and walks away.

‘It’ll pass,’ my mother tells me. ‘You’ll come to your senses. This won’t last—don’t do anything permanent. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.’

Don’t give in.

Don’t transform.

Don’t smile wide enough to show your teeth.

Don’t tell anyone else.

I realise I’ve been trying my hardest not to do anything, like being nothing would be preferable to being me. When did I get the idea that to starve would be better than anyone seeing me hungry?

‘I don’t want to hide anymore.’

‘But it’s no-one’s business,’ she insists. ‘I don’t understand why anyone needs to know, I mean, I don’t go around telling people I’m human.’

The words sound different coming from her mouth but they’re the same.

It’s no-ones business but mine. That’s what I told my brother and I thought I meant it but now I think I was still scared. Biting off bits of myself before anyone pulled out the silverware and cut it from me.

There’s a bird in my throat and the little bastard is choking me. It’s not fair. I don’t want to die without saying what I mean for once.

I bite down on it, blood between my teeth.

‘It’s not the same thing,’ I snap. There’s a gorgeous growl to my words I’ve never heard before. No one told me that would happen. I love it. I love the sound of my voice. ‘No one tries to kill you because you’re human.’

‘Exactly!’

When I stand up fast, chair scraping against the floor, she freezes. Caught between telling me to pick up the chair first and not knowing how to talk to a monster in her daughter’s skin.

It hadn’t occurred to me that telling the truth wouldn’t change just me.

Staring back at my mother, I find I don’t much like the woman I see. If that’s what awaited me, I’m glad to have changed. The world is huge and beautiful and painful and I am kinder, stronger, hardier for it.

I pick up my bag from the floor.

‘I’m the same person, it’s just now you know I’m a werewolf. When we went out for lunch last week? Werewolf. When I got you groceries when you were sick? Werewolf. Every birthday, holiday, every vacation we’ve had since I was nineteen? Werewolf.’

She looks sick. Puts a hand on the counter to steady herself.

When I get home, I’m going to curl up in my closet for a week. The bird is going to come back any second now with backup. Eagles, this time. ‘I’ve had a really long time to think about this and you haven’t so I’m - I’ll give you time. But you should know that I’m happy and healthy and safe. All the things you said you wanted for me.’

As I leave her house, maybe for the last time, I hope she’ll call. I don’t know if she will.

I have been sleeping better and dreaming more. In my dreams, I am always the same. I have a wolf head, with sharp teeth and keen eyes. I sing with a powerful voice that has unsettled for centuries. I cannot see my pack but I can hear them out there, howling. My body is the same; the only difference are the claw marks across my flat chest, red and raw and careful. I am not dead, only transformed.

#tagging my stories #original fiction #werewolves my beloveds.......

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solar-sunnyside-up · 2 years ago

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imma day dream bout a functioning comfy world for a sec,,, im watching bluey and feeling idealistic and v pregnant so stick with me while i day dream Putting out your garbage bin at night, and in the morning having a cup of tea on my porch watching as the garbage bin comes by and they wave at me, maybe sometimes i catch them and give them a snack for later in the day Taking the bus but instead of it being a horrible ordeal the bus stop is comfortable and covered in plants. Its got a fruit stand, overly comfy seating with wind chimes creating some ambient music while waiting for the bus.

Going to the library with a giant list organized by books and items your borrowing and craft supplies, walking into the library its like an archive of stuff for you to have without worry.

Biking your way casually to a park thats holding a movie night, a picnic basket attached on the back, and meeting up with your friends on the way over at sunset just as they start airing the bloopers before the movie starts and you settle in.

Spending sleepless nights in a cafe with an open ceiling so stars pour in while you paint some project and work away while sipping tea until sunrise. Catch up with a neighbour who wakes up early to deliver mail on the way out

Grocery delivery day where the little kids around you are buzzing all day, keeping an eye out the window for the delivery truck, cheering filling the house when it shows up and the adults get to work to help bring in the supplies. Offering a tea or snack for the deliverer and chatting a while.

#add your own ppl ill add more later #day dreams #solarpunk world #solarpunk writing #solarpunk #hopepunk #fuck capitalism

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faghubby · 8 days ago

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Going out again

"Ally. Why can't we just go to dinner together?" I whined

"Don't start, I am in a good mood. You wanted me to find a lover and now all you do is bitch like a little girl whenever I go to meet him" Ally shot back as she sat at her vanity finishing her make up. She stood up.

"I know what it is, you're bored home all alone. Well why don't we fix that" she told me grabbing my arm she led me down the hall.

"See this closet, it's a mess. Everyone just throws stuff in there they don't want to deal with" She then led me to the kitchen. "And the pantry, stuff gets thrown in here no organization" she told me. "Why don't you spend your free time taking care of that rather then pitching about me getting laid" she told me. I lowered my head in defeat.

"Don't cry about it" Ally said lifting my chin. "You can wear my pantyhose while you do it" she smiled. She knew I loved to wear her pantyhose they felt so smooth and sexy on my legs. Ally left to meet her lover. I knew nothing about him. She never shared details. When I had mentioned her cuckoldingMr, i thought it would boost are sex life add spice. Instead it killed it. She was getting what she needed from someone else. She wouldn't talk about it. But also stopped having sex with me at all. She had known about the pantyhose fetish since before we where married. No my sex life was me sitting home wondering what she was doing and with who as I masterbated.

Maybe this was a test if I did a good job cleaning everything up she would have sex with me. So I put on a pair of her pantyhose and nothing else and tackled the closet first. I spent hours on the closet and the pantry. I wasn't even done when Ally returned home.

"Look at you a busy little sissy" she smiled. "Did you have fun?" She giggled my dick hard in the pantyhose. She stepped close.

"It's been months hasn't it?" She asked as she ran her hand over my hardon. "You did really well so how about I let you ask some questions" she said.

"How big is he?" I asked without thinking.

"Wow your first question is about his big cock, jealous? Do you secretly want to suck his cock?" Ally teased. "It's bigger then you of course bit not overly enormous" she told me.

I thought for a moment "do I know him?" I asked

"No" she responded. She rubbed me again thru the pantyhose then ran her hand across my ass. I jumped as it felt like electricity running thru my body.

"Whould you like to wear pantyhose more? I would get you your own?" Ally asked I just moaned. "What about other things, girlie things. Have you tried panties?" She asked

"Yes, I love the feeling of satin" I confessed she stepped behind me her hands never leaving me.

"I bet you would look so cute all dressed up in satin" she told me her hands running up and pinching my nipples. "Rub yourself, don't take it out just rub" she told me kissing my ear. I rubbed my hardon it didn't take long for me to make a mess in my pantyhose. She headed for a shower leaving me to finish up.

In the morning I found a pair of nude pantyhose on top of my clothes.

"Wear them under your work clothes today" Ally told me. I put them on and put my underwear over them thinking it would hide them better if I bent over or something. I struggled to focus all day. The pantyhose driving me crazy.

At home Ally was cooking dinner,

"How was your day?" She smiled. "Why don't you strip down to just your silky pantyhose" without a thought I stripped. "How did you feel today?" She asked.

"Hot" I complained even though I loved it.

"Well you could shave that will reduce the temp and of course make them feel even more anazing" Ally told me. "And maybe I tell you how he likes to fuck me" she smiled. I went to take a bath. I shaved my legs, ass and groin. Before getting out of the tub. Ally met me at the door with a pair of full size pink satin panties.

"They are your size try them on" I slid them on and they felt amazing she then handed me a new pair of pantyhose they fit better then hers they weren't tight they felt amazing on my shaved legs.

"He loves to bend me over and fuck me standing up. He pounds away abusing my poor little pussy" She told me rubbing me thru the pantyhose and satin panties. I wanted to cum but she stopped.

"Why didn't you finish?" She asked running her hand thru the little cheat hair I had. I had not thought about it. She didn't wait for a response instead she bent me over.

"Like this he has me then he spreads my legs a bit" she moved my legs "and gets me wet" she said as she ran her fingers over my panty covered asshole. She then pulled my pantyhose and panties down exposing my ass. She applied something cool to my asshole and pushed her finger in.

"I want to make you a full fledge sissy" she told me. I didn't move I let her do whatever she wanted. She then pushed something hard against my hole.

"Push out and relax" she told me I tried and suddenly something slid into my ass. It hurt alittle as I gasped she pulled up my panties.

"I suck and swallow his cock. I never even put you in my mouth" Ally told me. "Do you like your new butt plug?" She asked. I spent the rest of the night even sleeping with the plug in my ass and the pantyhose.

"I am seeing him agsin after work, so you should focus on getting the laundry caught up and maybe thinking about getting rib of the rest of this hair. I went to work in pantyhose again. But she let me remove the plug it was small it felt so much bigger. When I got home I found a bigger plug on the table.

TRY THIS ONE SISSY GIRL the note read. I took it and worked into my ass as I get the tub set. And shaved my chest and pits. This is what I wanted I wanted the attention I wanted her to tease me. The plug hurt a little but if it made her happy.

Ally came home just before I was going to bed. She underdressed in front of me making a show of it. She peeled off her cum soaked panties.

"Look at all his cum" she laughed. "I got you this to wear" she smiled handing me a pink satin nightgown. As she went to shower. I put it on and wanted to jerk off. I was about to give in when Ally got out of the shower. She laid in bed naked. She lifted my nightgown and stroked me.

"Cum, don't hold back cum" she told me. I cane innunder a minute she caught all my cum in her hand.

"He cums so much more then you, she bought her hand up to show me. "Eat it, lick up your mess" she said sternly. I hesitated.

"I let him fuck my ass, could imagine me letting someone take my ass" she said I licked her hand clean. The salty taste was okay but the slimy texture almost made me gag.

In the morning she gave me a satin camisole with matching panties to wear. But no pantyhose. Agsin as soon as ingot home she had me strip and added an even bigger plug to my ass. Another nightie to wear to bed. The next morning she added a garter and stockings under my work clothes.

When I came home she greeted me at the door. She dragged me to the bedroom sat me down.

"Tell me you want this" she told me.

"Ally I love you" I started

"Tell me you want me to make you a sissy bitch, make you suck cock" She instructed me.

I froze staring at her I didn't want this to stop, but suck some guys cock?

"Yes make me your sissy bitch" I told her.

"That's truly what you always wanted isn't it" as she started to undress me smacking my hands down when I tried to help. "A little cuckold unable to satisfy his wife because he wanted to he the girl" she continued. She stripped me completely naked.

"Get on your knees and suck my cock" She told me lifting her dress. A pink plastic cock jutting out from her crotch. She pushed me down and lifted her cock to my lips. I looked up at her then opened my mouth. She was right I could never satisfy her I wanted to wear panties. I tried to suck her cock she gave me tips and hints to suck her cock better. My jaw hurt my knees hurt my throat hurt by the time she let me stop.

"You didn't make me cum, so" she pulled my hair so I stood and she spun me around and lubed my ass. She pushed her cock into my ass. She started slow but was soon bounding away.

"You love my cock don't you baby?" She asked

"Yes, fuck me" I pleaded. Before she stopped and pulled out.

"Get dressed" she told me pointing to a pile of clothes. There was satin panties and a bra. Stockings and a skirt and a shirt that said Sissy across it then in a box a pair of high heel shoes in my size. I slipped them on simple black 3 inch heels. I almost fell putting them on. I had not even noticed Ally get dressed as well.

"I will be back in the morning, I expect the house to be spotless. I don't care if it takes all night. You should be a pro in those heels by then" She kissed me on the cheek and left wearing sweat pants. I so wanted to cum but focused on cleaning. I didn't want to ruin this. I was up to 2am scubbing the house top to bottom.

I woke up to Ally coming home it was 9am.

"Still in bed" Ally pulled back the covers I still wore the bra and panties. She sat and rubbed my erection thru my satin panties.

"Beg to clean his cum from my cheating cunt" Ally laughed. I looked at her she was serious.

"Ally, I don't want" I whined

"Beg to devoure his sperm from me, make me believe you need it" Ally said.

"Please, Ally let me clean your pussy" I said. She looked at me.

"Ally I need to suck his manly seed from you, I need to clean you" I pleaded she stood and dropped her skirt lowering herself to my mouth. His cum dripped on my face before she even lowered herself all the way. She ground her pussy into my face as I locked and sucked her lips and clit. When she was satisfied I had done a good job she got off.

"Stay right there" she told me. When she returned she wore her strapon. She pulled off my panties and lubed my ass, before shoving her cock balls deep into my ass. My dick became soft but cum leaked from it. As she fucked me. My legs on her shoulders.

"Your just a little sissy now, my little bitch girlfriend" Ally told me. That's all I was now wasn't it. She didn't see me as a man. How could she? I started to cry as she fucked me hard with her toy.

"That's it my little bitch, all you can do is cry" Ally teased. She fucked me so long sweat dripped off her face. I was jelly. I just laid there.

"Here let's put this on now" Ally said as she fiddled with something around my balls. I sat up when she was done. I didn't have a dick!

"I knew it would fit. It's like you have no penis at all she laughed. "It's only 3/4 of an inch chastity cage." She told me. "And I already threw out the key"

"Your a woman now" Ally smiled. As I burst into tears again.

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moonshine-nightlight · 1 month ago

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2025 Writing Plans

With this being the third such yearly plan post, i think its officially a tradition lol. my standard disclaimer is this is my high level plan right now, subject to change and likely overly optimistic, but still worthwhile to make and try to layout. posting about writing plans gets me excited for the new year.

here's what i'm thinking:

Nothing's Wrong With Dale: Borrowing some of my plan from last year, i need to finish my own edit of Dale, hire an editor, commission cover art, and then self-publish. I'd love to get all that done in time for december publishing, but given how long everything was taking last year, i'd settle for just pushing it over to editors by the end of the year.

Short Stories: I want to finish off Courtship Confusion and Free Piano: Haunted this year, along with at least one other new story, but i am not trying to predict what that might be lol. maybe one that's been on my shelf for a while,maybe the one i started a couple days ago, maybe a new idea I havn't even had yet, like Voluntary Sacrifice. Nothing's gonna get posted until May at the earliest.

Novella(s): I'd like to kick off work self-publishing two other Novellas: a combo naga novella (Finally Woken and Selfish) and Sacrifice. No idea how far I can get between my edits and revisions, scrounging up the money to pay for editor/publishing/cover art, and pulling together some sort of timeline for all that, but I want to get it all going so i have more self-published work out there (it'd b really cool to go to a con or something in 2026 and have a set of books to promo and not just 2 lol - not to get too ahead of myself).

Series: I want to make Sacrifice the first novella in a 6 book series, each focusing on a different deity returning to the temple with the final book about all of them coming together against a common enemy, likely focusing back on the MC from Sacrifice. I have some note sand outlines for the different stories (although they all need better titles). Currently, I was considering them being a published exclusive, but I might still post abridged version on here, especially as I work through my ideas. So for 2025, in addition to getting Sacrifice further on it's own publish journey, i want to complete all the outlines and notes, solidify the characters, etc - everything i need to start writing these stories.

Longer stories: I still want to work on planning them out and making a decision on one to start posting next, like with Dale, but I don't think that actually posting anything longer like that will happen in 2025 (see everything else i want to do above lol). Still, getting organized is important and i'm looking forward to fleshing them all out and knowing which one i'll be diving into next.

So lots of stuff i want to get into and multiple things I want to try to finish off lol Definitely overly ambitious, but its getting me excited to get to writing.

As always, my day job is extremely busy January - April and this year is no exception so new stories until that time passes.

Feel free to send in any asks about upcoming/current stories! I'm looking forward to all the exciting writing and publishing to come in 2025!

#my writing #writing status #writing goals #2025 plans #yearly overview #story status #writing schedule #self-publishing #editing #aiming high lol #trying to make these plans more focused on progress on multiple fronts #rather than a specific end goal accomplishment #it feels less like i'm setting myself up to fail that way #even while being overly ambitious

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pucksalotguys · 6 months ago

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Chapter 2

First off, thank you for those of you who liked chapter 1 and gave me feedback ! If you haven’t already you can read chapter 1 HERE. Now back with chapter 2 and here you’ll be able to see more of Cecelia and more of Jacqueline and Sidney and the why their dynamic is the way it is…. Stay tuned and enjoy ❤️

(Please remember to like, reblog, add tags, comment and leave me some asks to let me know what you think (anon is on for a reason so don’t be shy, I promise I’m nice 🫶)

WC: 3.4K

“So now that I’m not stuck with you in an elevator and we’re in a much more comfortable situation, why don’t you fill me in on what this whole thing is gonna be like” Cecelia chuckled “I consider myself a easy going person so I’m hoping no one thinks bad of me” Sidney gave her a grin “You don’t have a reason to be nervous at all, the guys are great. We got a real good group of people” “I took it upon myself to gather everyone’s information in preparation for the season event we have planned. A little family skate at the arena just a bit before the first preseason game, something light but fun for everyone to get together again and for the new members and their families to get to know everyone and stuff” “You’re really on it” he said surprised “So like I asked before, what brought you to this job ?”

“Well don’t take this the wrong way but it just fit what I needed for right now” she explained “I majored in communications and minored in business. I want to be a writer but those jobs are rather seldom so I use my degrees in other ways. It’s how I got here, I can organize, email and make schedules while still using my other skills. I don’t plan to be here long but I do plan on giving it my all so don’t worry about me messing up”

Not many people impressed him but there was something about Cecelia that was just already so special. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but there was just something about her that already made him feel comfortable

“You say you're a writer does that also mean you enjoy reading ?” he asked Cecilia looked up at him and nodded excitedly “I love to read ! It's my favorite thing to do and something that I've always loved ever since I was a little girl. It's what made me want to become a writer. I read so many books as a little girl and in my teenage years that I just knew in my heart it's what I wanted to do” She admitted with the blush as she realized she was a bit overly excited “I apologize…..it's just that I have a lot of passion for what I love” Sidney couldn't help but smile at her “That's a very respectful and good thing to have in life, it's how I feel about my career as well. I know I'm entering the stage where I'm almost done and perhaps people don't think that I'm in my prime anymore but believe me when I say that having passion for your career is truly what makes you love what you do”

“Don't say that about yourself” she said softly “Age has nothing to do with one's career, if you still have passion and perseverance then that's all that matters”

“So in your opinion would you say that age doesn't matter ?” Sidney asked “That's exactly what I'm saying” Cecilia nodded “Speaking from my own experience and how I'm 27 and I'm essentially working an office job for a hockey team that has nothing to do with my degree I would say that perhaps later in life is when I’ll get to do what I truly love. You're just incredibly lucky that you've always been able to do what you love” she explained “And you've done such monumental things with this career that you shouldn't feel like it's nothing simply because you're getting older”

No one had ever been able to convey what he wanted to say and here was a woman he met a mere few hours ago making sense of those things. His mind had been rocked, as he took himself out of his distracted state he felt his phone buzz and looked down, a picture of Jacqueline and the boys appearing bringing him back to the realization that what he was currently doing maybe wasn’t exactly right “I got to take this” he hastily got up and stepped outside “Hey Jac,is everything okay ?” “Hey babe” she said softly “I just wanted to call you rather than text you to let you know that I just miss you and I'm really sorry about last night. I haven't been able to go on with my day without thinking about how we went to sleep mad at each other when we promised that would never happen”

He sighed “I really appreciate you calling to tell me that, you know I love you more than anything. Listen I'll be home in a bit, why don't we have a nice night in with the kids tonight ?”

“That sounds great and I also want to let you know that I had a talk with Roman and I apologized to him because he deserved that from me. I don't ever want him feeling like he's different than his brother, I was able to give him some one-on-one time just he and I, it was really nice” she admitted “That's amazing of you honey” he smiled “You're an amazing mother and I know perhaps things aren't exactly as we pictured them but I know that we’ll be okay and that our boys will be okay” “I'll see you in a bit then” Jacqueline smiled

He hung up and walked back inside apologizing as he took a seat “That was my wife, sorry I had to answer”

“That's no problem” Cecilia shook her head “You have children, you mentioned that back in the elevator”

“Two boys, twins actually” he showed her a picture “Before you ask, yes I have a son with a physical disability. The one with braces on his legs is my son Roman, he has a condition named Spina-Bifida. His spine has some issues and it affects his walking. The one next to him is Aaron, he’s just a handful but that’s mostly because he gets frustrated”

Cecelia grinned “They look just like you, they have your exact face. They’re adorable”

Sidney nodded, waiting for her to give him the typical pity speech about how Roman was so special and how he and Jacqueline were so strong and blessed for having a child like him

“You can say it” he broke their silence “I know you’re thinking it”

“Thinking what ?” she asked

“Cecelia you don’t have to act like you don’t see it, I’m aware I have a child with a disability and it’s very apparent”

Cecelia nodded “You do and what does that have to do with anything ? He’s still a perfectly healthy child, I’m sure life’s not all sunshine and rainbows but he seems very happy”

“He is very happy” Sidney whispered “He’s a great kid

“My mom is a pediatric surgeon” she opens up “Growing up I watched her treat kids with all sorts of different things. A child having some braces on his legs and using a walking device isn’t shocking or sad to me”

“It is to my wife” he admitted quietly “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this” “Is it sad to her or is she just struggling with everything ?” Cecelia asked back “Because given how she called you, I feel like she’s maybe having a hard time” “Yeah….yeah you’re right” Sidney nodded “I’m sorry for just dropping that on you out of nowhere” She shook her head “There’s no need to apologize to me, I’m glad we could talk. Sometimes life is just hard and it helps to talk to someone about things. I know it helps me” “You haven’t told me much about yourself” he grins at her “I know you’re from New York and that’s about it”

Listening to her speak was slowly becoming one of his favorite things. He soon found out she was one of 3 siblings, the middle child. She had one older brother and a younger brother and they both still resided in New York. Her father was an accountant in the city for some investors and her mother was a pediatric surgeon at one of the children's hospitals. She had left New York when she was 18 when she graduated because she had been accepted into UCLA. She was interesting, she was so full of life and optimism. The complete opposite of what he was.

“Oh man I’ve just been rambling on and on” Cecelia chuckled and shook her head “As you can tell I’m quite the talker, something I need to work on” “I like hearing you talk” Sidney replied “You’re interesting and honestly not a lot of people can hold my attention like you do….you’re quite the woman Cece” “Thank you” she smiled “Seeing as it’s now almost 5 and this cafe is about to close, I should get going but remember you have my number in case you need anything and of course I’ll be seeing you around” He nodded and got up and looked her over while she was gathering her things, there was just something about her that he couldn’t quite shake off. Something that made his heart flutter, a feeling he didn’t even get from Jacqueline anymore “See you” Cecelia went and hugged him and quickly backed up “Oh my god I am so sorry” “You're a hugger, that’s fine” he chuckled “No need to say sorry, I’ll see you Cece. Keep an eye on that cut” “See you Sidney” Cecelia waved as she walked out Soon after she left he walked out and got into his car letting out a deep breath as he drove back to his home. One where he hoped things would be back to normal *****************

“Daddy look what I make” Roman showed Sidney “You like it ?” “Wow that’s a super cool drawing” he smiled “Oh man my favorite color, red” “Aaron and I do it together with Mrs.Molly” he nodded

Sidney couldn’t help but look confused, Mrs.Molly was an older woman who had been their nanny when the kids were younger. They had let her go when Jacqueline had been insistent that she could handle them on her own at home. That itself was a huge fight that had almost brought them to the brink of divorce “Where is mommy ?” he asked “I walked in and you two were here in the living room coloring” “I’m here…” Jacqueline called from the stairway as she came down Sidney turned his head and gave her a grin, like he had assumed she was up to something and he knew exactly what it was. She was wearing a dress he used to love on her back when they were first dating way back in the day, a short but appropriate floral sundress and her hair was down straight rather than up in her usual messy bun. She wanted something and she was trying to do everything to get it “You look….” “This remind you of all those dates we used to have before we got married” she smiled as she kissed his cheek “You used to take me out every week night when you were in the city” “You look very pretty” Sidney kissed her “Dinner ready ?” “All set” she nodded as she held his hand and walked with him “Your favorite actually, steak and some asparagus with a baked potato” “Went all out” he chuckled “Boys, what do you say ?” “Mommy no cook” Aaron giggled “Mrs. Molly do it” Sidney scoffed “Well, Jacqueline ? Anything to say ?” She cleared her throat and took a seat “Well….I wanted us to have dinner first but I guess now is the time “I decided to hire Ms.Molly back because…..I wanna go back to running art classes in a studio” He said nothing as he ate his food, there was now way he’d make a big deal in front of the boys especially “We’ll talk after dinner, you can tell Mrs. Molly I said thank you for dinner, it’s delicious” Dinner went on rather well, he made sure his attention was for the boys mostly. He loved hearing about their days and what they did. They were the reason he woke up every morning ready to go, they were his everything. Soon after they had finished eating he went and settled with them in the living room to watch a movie and just as they were entertained he took it upon himself to start the much dreaded conversation

“Jacqueline, when we had kids we both spoke about how we wanted to make sure we were bringing them into this world so we could both be present parents. You told me yourself you only wanted a nanny for night duty for the first year and how you wanted to be a stay at home mom. I asked you a million times if you were sure, that I’d do anything in my power to make sure you were okay. Why the change now ?” he asked “Well” she began “The season’s starting soon and just….I get bored” she admitted “It’s just all about the boys all the time. When it’s not Roman’s appointments it’s Aaron’s skating lessons, there’s nothing for me ever. It’s just being a chauffeur 24/7 and hanging out with the other girls on the team and I just want a piece of me back. I bought a studio to host art lessons” Sidney widened his eyes as he looked at her “You what ?” “I bought a studio” she repeated “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but this is my choice. I used my money from my inheritance, all on my own. I’m going to be paying Mrs. Molly to watch the boys Monday through Friday from 10-6, this is my choice” “So I don’t get a say in this ? You think because you used your inheritance money that I don’t get a say in something that involves our children ?” he said back “You’re gonna be gone most of the time anyways” she pointed out “Training camp is next week and you’ll be gone for the whole month then soon the season starts and you’ll be on the road 4 times a week. I’ll be at all home games with the kids, I’ll be at everything I need to be at. Nothing's gonna change, nothing” “You did this without consulting me at all, you did this without thinking about the kids at all ? Do you realize they need us, that they need one of us to be there with them ? They start school already next year”

“Of course I've thought about it !” Jacqueline snapped “How dare you imply that I don't care about my children !” “You sure as hell don't show it” he said back “You're going to let an elderly nanny come back and raise our kids because you wanna chase your little hobby that brought you nowhere ?” “How dare you !” she yelled at him “Don't you dare raise your voice at me when our children are in this home” Sidney said sternly

“Well because this is also my home right now I'm going to ask you to leave” Jacqueline crossed her arms “I can’t see you right now” He shook his head in disbelief “The only reason I'm going to leave is because I know if I stay and fight this that things will end up worse than they already are, but I will tell you this” he looked in her eyes “You making this decision is putting a nail in the coffin” With that statement he went and packed a bag and quickly said goodbye to the boys, lying to him that he had to fly somewhere and that he would be back in a few days. He got in his car and drove in a rage to the one place that he was glad he always kept to himself; his apartment in the city.

Shortly after he had moved out of Mario's home he had decided to get himself an apartment rather than buying a home right away. He settled for a rather upscale apartment right in the heart of the city, when he found his dream home he kept it. For some years it had served as a getaway for him and Jacqueline and now it served as his own getaway away from her.

He parked his car and handed his keys to the valet as he strolled into the lobby and checked in with the concierge and made his way up in the elevator. To him his apartment was perfect, sure maybe it lacked a few touches and maybe it seemed cold but in time of stress it was just what he needed.

Just as he was about to settle comfortably and turn on the TV he could hear loud music next door. As far as he knew he didn't have any neighbors at all, it was a big reason as to why he liked this apartment. Typically those who lived there were doctors or lawyers or even other athletes who simply needed to stay close to the city when they needed to be there.

A few years back he would have called the concierge and had hotel security check what was going on, back when he was still a bigger name and couldn't even get through restaurants without being hounded for pictures and autographs. But in this current day he stood up and got out and knocked on the door himself

“Oh god it's the music isn't it ? I am so sor-....Sidney” she asked confused “What are you doing here ?”

He felt like he was in a dream ,there was none other than Cecilia standing in front of him as she covered herself with her robe the best she could but even that couldn’t save her from his wandering eyes “You live here ?” he asked “Yeah” she chuckled “I do, clearly as you see me in my sleep attire now the question is, do you live here or are you stalking me ?” “I own the apartment next door, it was my first solo place and I kept it. I come here when….when I need space” he nodded “Well, nice to meet you not so often neighbor" she chuckled I’ll turn my music down, I’m really sorry”

Sidney shook his head “All good”

“Bad night ?” she asked suddenly

“Pretty shitty” he nodded

“Wanna come in ? We can talk if you wan to” she said softy

“Yeah…I’d love to talk” he nodded as he stepped inside and watched her close the door "I love your vinyls" he walked over and observed, widening his eyes when he saw one he used to listen to with his dad "Whoa you have an original Led Zeppelin Physical Graffiti from 1975, how the hell you'd get this ?"

“I know a guy" Cecelia shrugged with a smirk "Pretty bad ass huh ? I also have all of The Beach Boys original ones, I love music and collecting vinyl . It's my favorite thing"

Sidney looked in awe as he held up one of his favorites "I know this is weird of me but do you think I could play this ?" he held up Pet Sounds "I love this one" "Go for it" she grinned "While you get that set up, can I get you some water ?" "Water is fine" he responded as he put the record on and turned the volume up "This is the coolest record player ever, there's a place downtown that has one just like this. I can't believe you just have a Wrensilva M1 in your living room, I've always wanted one" Cecelia laughed as she handed him his water "I do have a pretty cool set up"

Sidney took a second as he listened to the record start and sighed "This a fun distraction, I appreciate this" "You looked down" she admits "You didn't look like that earlier" "It's my wife....we had a fight and well she asked me to leave so here I am" he nodded "At least I got a place though" he gave her small grin

"And a friend" Cecelia said softly "Yeah" Sidney nodded "A friend"

One that was making him feel things he shouldn't.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby blurb #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby writing #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby fanfic #sidney crosby story #sidney crosby oneshot #hockey fic #nhl fic #pittsburgh penguins #pittsburgh penguins fic

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canmom · 29 days ago

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Animation Night 197: we're back, let's make some shit!

Hey everyone! Happy year increment.

Animation Night hasn't been on in a while, for a variety of reasons - some of them good. And I can't promise it's going to be back as a truly regular thing, necessarily. This year, I want to focus on making stuff, and spending time w people irl. If I'm blogging a lot, it's a symptom... The release of short story A Summoning, and the next two to come, is step one on that. As-yet unnamed short film project, presently in the scripting stage, is another.

With that in mind, maybe Animation Night has served its purpose. But I'm not done with Animation Night! And to set things off on the right foot, here are two films about making art for your perusal.

Look Back surely needs no introduction for the sakubuta/weeb slice of my audience but for the rest of ya, let's set the scene a little. We have here the adaptation of a one-shot manga by our god Tatsuki Fujimoto - yes, he of Chainsaw Man! and Fire Punch, Goodbye Eri... - about two girls Fujino and Kyomoto, very overtly based on Fujimoto himself, creating manga. A story of all the intense highs and lows that come with making art, gradually escalating until an abrupt turn to tragedy late in the story that is pure Fujimoto. It's a thoughtful, slightly enigmatic story, the thought of thing that scratches an itch in your brain and leaves you oddly fired up afterwards.

The story of the animated version, recounted as well as always on sakugablog, is also rather dramatic. So, this workaholic madlad Kiyotaka Oshiyama, fed up of how anime usually goes, was the furious driving force behind a really unusual production. It's one which let the key animation of Oshiyama himself (who animated about half the film) alongside industry legends like Toshiyuki Inoue go through without the usual redrawing step, that is, without the overly-clean stiffness that tends to bring in - an approach that really let them bring out the most incredibly lively and organic animation, the kind that really lets the emotions spill out of the screen.

Like, you know me, my favourite anime is Eizouken, you know how much I love stories about girls making pictures together. But this one is really something special. And, hey, after all the controversies over whether Mappa!Chainsaw Man missed the mark or not and how it ought to have been, we have a Fujimoto adaptation that everyone seems to agree is just perfect. Hooray!

There's much, much, much more to praise on the technical side: gorgeous colour design, super smart boards with incredibly funny elaborations on Fujino's 4koma strips, pacing that really gets the feel of a Fujimoto manga - just about everyone in this year's animation awards had something to add there. And it is also really short, much more like an OVA length than the usual big film. It is just as long as it needs to be: the perfectly tight production.

Which means we've got room for another.

So the other film I've got to show...

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...is not as likely to be on your radar. Nobody's even gif'd it. I saw this one at the Scotland Loves Anime festival a few months ago, and it only very recently landed on Nyaa. So let me spend a few more words introducing it.

If Look Back is the work of industry veterans at the absolute top of their game, A Few Moments of Cheers is almost aggressively new, but in other ways its story is quite similar to Look Back. The director, Popreq/poprika of the three-person studio Hooray, is basically a baby - someone who established himself making music videos in Blender, such as this:

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or this:

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Popreq's style is characterised by bright colour, creative shading effects like the screentone dots you see in the first video, and lively mobile camerawork - really leaning into the unique qualities of 3DCG as a medium.

So much so that someone with money approached him like 'hey can you make a movie of this'. That movie concerns, get this, a young Blender animator specialising in music videos - but it's not actually autobiographical per se, it's just that writer Jukki Hanada pretty much wrote the script around Popreq.

The stylistic debt to Makoto Shinkai is certainly there, with the warm light washing over every surface, the dramatic shots of the sky, etc. etc., but this has its own story to tell; it is about the meeting of people at various points in the brutal cycle of artmaking. Kanata (the 3D artist in question) is a bright young thing full of fire and hope; he becomes aware of his teacher Yu's talent for singing in a chance encounter on the street, unaware that she's been so ground down by her unsuccessful efforts as a singer that she's basically on the edge of giving up - a predicament shared by his friend Daisuke, who has reached a point of unfulfilment with painting.

Kanata becomes convinced he must make a music video for Yu, and his faltering efforts and the fallout of that push him onto an arc of understanding. And much as it's got that Shinkai melodrama aspect, climactic chase and all, it really does hit some notes about the pain of not making it. So much anime about making art follows the templates of sports anime: the gradual rise in fame and escalating tiers of prestige like stages in a league. It's welcome to have a film more focused on exploring the emotions of not making it.

The methods of production are also notable. At Scotland Loves Anime there was an extended interview between Jonathan Clements and Popreq which really went into the production nitty gritty... something they promised to put online but I can't seem to find anywhere. Perhaps something to follow up on later. Popreq refused to be seen on camera (despite Clements claiming he had an exceptionally beautiful bishōnen face lmao) but came across as terribly sincere. I will have to recount from memory...

The film is of course mostly rendered in Blender - in fact, there's an incredible sequence of Kanata animating in Blender that is one of my favourite parts - but it also brings in some even newer tech: its animation is largely accomplished motion capture, using a variety of tools and software, including 'Perception Neuron' used to capture crowd scenes. Popreq himself plays nearly every character with an affordable mocap rig from his home. Only a few sequences, notably the live music performance scenes, used more traditional mocap studio tech. Here and there for more cartoonish scenes, 2D animation is mixed in, fitting in very seamlessly with the lineless 3D.

This single-actor mocap approach puts it in the company of The Pig That Survived Foot and Mouth Disease, the Korean film which I wrote about here. In both films, the tech enables a style of film that just couldn't be created before. Pig That Survived takes a more naturalistic approach to acting befitting its dark Shakespearean drama, while Cheers tends to go for more comical exaggerated motion - at least for its main boy. But honestly Popreq knocks it out of the park with the acting, conveying much with a subtle head tilt. (It helps, I suppose, to be his own cinematographer as much as main actor.)

I went into AFMOC without expectations (I just thought it looked neat on the programme) and was very pleasantly surprised, and it absolutely exemplifies the spirit of just, making some shit with whatever tools come to hand. So that's why I wanna bring it to you today, and even put it alongside a masterpiece like Look Back. Between these two films... well, they say what it's all about, really. Art about the struggles of making art can get a bit wanky, but when it's done well, it hits like nothing else. And both of these films leave me fired up to make something true. I hope they'll do the same for you.

Naturally I'm starting stupid late. Animation Night 197 will be going live in just a second at the usual twitch.tv/canmom, movies starting in about 15-20 minutes - we'll be watching AFMOC and then Look Back! Hope to see you there, and either way, happy new year freaks! I wanna see what you can't resist making, in whatever medium and idiom calls to you, just like these anime kids.

#animation night #a few moments of cheers #popreq #look back #tatsuki fujimoto #Youtube

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adobe-outdesign · 9 months ago

Note

Have you reviewed Oranguru before? Would love to see what you think of it.

Oranguru is the version counterpart to Passimian, but between the two, I like it quite a bit better. Maybe I'm just inherently biased towards psychic-types, but I feel like Oranguru both has a more interesting premise and a concept that's better fleshed out.

Conceptually, the wise old ape idea combined with the guru-like aspects, like the cape and the fan, work pretty well together. You can tell what the idea is, but it's not so overt as to feel like this couldn't be a living organism. Orangutans are also a good choice for this, as they're known for being highly intelligent animals; in fact, Oranguru is also intelligent enough that it can basically train its own Pokemon, which I think is really interesting.

And visually, I like the look of Oranguru. The eyes have a haunted look and the overall body anatomy isn't overly human-like. The colors are also good, forsaking a realistic palette in favor of a rich purple and gold color scheme. My only issue is that you probably could've removed the blues from the palette, as they don't add anything useful, but that's it.

So overall, a pretty solid ape with a nice design and clear, easy-to-read themes. Good stuff.

#pokemon #pokemon reviews #oranguru

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itllbeoneofthese · 2 months ago

Text

Hi, I’m Bee! I write stuff sometimes

(IF YOU’RE NOT 18+ SCRAM, MINORS DNI)

They/She/Him, 18+, NSFW

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎

I just kind of come on here to ramble or spread the word that I’ve written something unhinged again. If you want to read my fics they are all on ao3 in their entirety and in a much more organized manner, all posted under ItllBeOneOfThese.

Fandoms:

Call Of Duty MW2

Spider-verse

Pairings:

Ghost x Soap x Reader

Miguel x Reader

What I Do And Don't write!

Do Write:

18+ content

Character(s) X Reader; usually AFAB with either she/her or they/them pronouns occasionally AMAB

In either first person or second person perspective

NSFW one shots with plot sprinkled in

A variety of kinks, sometimes they fall under BDSM territory

Some type of after care if it gets smutty

None smut related gore and violence

Angst

SFW fluff

Don't Write:

**Let me clarify I have nothing against these specific things and I read fics with some of these tags, they just don't align with my writing**

Dark Romance/ Dead Dove

Stalking

Non-con or Dubious consent

No use of Y/N

Size kink

Vore

Scat

Many other kinks I can’t remember right now (if I’ve not written about a certain kink up until now just assume it’s on the no no list for me)

Any specific physical features for reader; they have a distinct personality and internal thoughts but you can imagine reader however you want

I do my best to add clear tags to everything so make sure you read those!!

This will probably continue to be updated. Feel free to ask me any questions or suggest anything to be added on here. Thank ya’ll for checking out my stuff <3

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ MASTERLIST ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Smut | 🌶️ | - Fluff | 🌸| - Angst | 🌹|

NSFW | 🍄 | - SFW | ☘️ |

Writing Prompts/Drabble:

Ghoap x Reader Rom-Com Hallmark (🌸,☘️)

Ghoap x Reader Gladiator AU (☘️)

Head Over Heels Ghost x Reader (🌸,☘️)

Overly Flirty/Obsessed Johnny But He's So Respectful About It (🌸,☘️)

Ghost Who Has Never Really Believed In Love (🌹,☘️)

AO3 Links

In Progress:

It Will Come Back (18+, Ghoap x Reader, Zombie Apocalypse, Gore & Violence) 🌶️, 🌸,🌹,🍄

One Shots:

Now And Maybe Next Time (18+, 6.4 K, Ghoap x Reader, Childhood Bestfriends) 🌶️,🌸,🍄

What Little Love (Mature, 918, Miguel x Reader, Light Angst, Bittersweet) 🌹,☘️

I Wanna Be Yours (18+, 5.3k, Miguel x Reader, Office AU)🌶️, 🍄

Like Real People Do (18+, 2k, Miguel x Reader, Fluff & Smut, Established Relationship) 🌶️, 🍄

Community Pool (18+, 5.3k, Miguel x Reader, Public Sex)🌶️, 🍄

#I’m not joking im so bad at using this app #blog intro #introduction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 writer #writing blog #fic writer #writer #cod mw2 #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #ghoap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost x reader #one shot #ask me anything

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slow-writer · 1 year ago

Text

TMAGP (and TMA, indirectly) Spoilers and Thoughts...

You have been warned...

I wasn't part of the original TMA crowd back when it was first airing. I'd heard mutterings of it, but never really thought much about it. To be honest, I probably wasn't mentally ready for it back then. Instead, my younger sister started listening to it last year and then kept talking about it until something she said made me go, "Y'know what? Okay. I'm in."

I ended up bingeing through it during work this past October, and holy sh*t. I fell down the rabbit hole hard. (Maybe, in this case, it would be more akin to running face first down those coffin stairs? I digress.) Being so new to it when everyone else had already been swallowed up by the sky, it was cool to dig into the Wikis that had already been made, to see the links and foreshadowing.

But now, it's the beginning of TMAGP, and I actually get to listen the day they release, to jump on here, or reddit, or tiktok, or wherever to be a part of the theorizing AS IT HAPPENS. And boy oh boy, I'm happier than Simon Fairchild in the stratosphere.

Do I have a notebook to jot down my thoughts as I listen? Of course, I do. Do I have multiple tabs open, some with ARG info, some with TMA info, and yet more with references to alchemical symbols and practices? Duh. Have I started my own spreadsheet for it all? Well, if you knew about my Lego Dimensions spreadsheet.... nevermind. Yes, I have.

But nothing beats being able to talk (or type) about it with other fans, like my sister, or those faceless avatars (lol) of the interwebs. And man, has my brain been CHURNING.

First, let me get out of the way that I wasn't able to take part in the ARG as it was happening, and my goodness! I'm so happy there are other people out there like me who were able to sum up and load it up for the rest of us to learn about. No idea how much of it will be *necessary* to unlock all the secrets, but I'm the kind who loves to know trivia just cos. And the details I am learning definitely pull me deeper.

Second, I feel like in the beginning of TMA, there was barely anything for the listeners to dig through. One guy working on behalf of an organization, trying to dig through seemingly implausible and overly spooktastic first-hand statements dating back centuries that are in crazy disarray from the previous archivist, and he's laying on a hefty helping of "this is utter balderdash, complete poppycock, and absolute piffle" opinion. It was a slow burn, something that (as an American, and being exposed to so much more instant gratification in storytelling than necessary) UK storytellers seem to be experts in, and was even more expertly done in this case, since so many little things had to eventually build up without listeners automatically assuming what would happen next, without them getting bored.

But TMAGP is already so full of so much extra stuff, so many little things (even before it was released) that we may all get BURIED in the sheer amount of data we think is vital. We're not listening to tapes this time, we're definitely listening via internet-connected devices, like computers, mobile phones, and security cameras. So, while TMA had old tape recorders magically appearing (or were they being dragged by hordes of spiders?) and switching themselves on so they could hear all the random happenings within the archive, TMAGP is no longer reliant on such hand-wavery. Whatever/whoever is listening can do so from anywhere to anyone they want. That makes the world of TMAGP

SO MUCH BIGGER.

Third, I know not everyone who listens to these things is like me (or, let's face it: us--there are so many fans doing regular deep dives on here, we should have our own categorization on the wiki). There are bound to be listeners who just leave everything at face value and wait for the story to unfold itself organically, and when it's done, it's done. But even as an adolescent, when I got into something, I did my best to listen to, watch, or read everything I could find on that very niche thing. At least for a while. (Hello, undiagnosed ADHD!)

So, I watched/listened to a couple interviews and Q&As regarding the new show prior to release. And while both Alex and Jonny have been clear saying you don't have to have listened to TMA to enjoy TMAGP, I kind of think just saying that is leading us TMA fans in a very specific direction. And I think it's very intentional, and that a lot of fans either haven't heard about it yet, or are choosing to ignore it.

They say that TMAGP is tangentially related to TMA in that there will be familiar themes, but

it's taking place in a completely different universe from TMA;

time in TMA worked differently (especially during the Entity Torturepalooza in S5) towards the end, so dates of events there may not line up with dates or events in this universe; and

the main or overarching theme is different.

In TMA, the story was "what makes a monster a monster?" As in, is there a line one crosses that they can't return from? Is it a physical manifestation, like it alters their appearance? Is it an action they have to take? And does that action have to be done willingly, or can it be coerced? Does becoming the monster to protect someone else, or to achieve a greater good... does any of that matter?

In TMAGP, they've already said that the story will be "what makes a person a person?"

The implications of that sentence are many and mind-boggling.

I first thought it had something to do with the idea of the humane (not human): kindness, empathy, compassion. The ties that bind us together as people (like being fans of a little horror podcast from across the pond) could be part of this.

But, now that we have 5 episodes out, and a metaphorical army of lore-deep-divers digging through every word and sound effect and episode title, I think we can truly start to figure out where we're heading.

Artificial Intelligence.

It struck me as I was re-listening to the first episode this morning. (I really am trying to fill out my spreadsheet in a semi-logical manner and with as many pertinent details as possible, really. That's the main reason I was doing that this morning. At least, that's what I tell myself.) We are hearing all these happenings over web-connected devices (don't think I don't see you, Alex and Jonny, and your oh-so-hilarious punning!), the OIAR employees are working on a modified business-forward version of Windows NT 4.0 that precedes Windows 95 that has a name that we interpret as 'Freddy' (or Freddie, depending on where you are in the transcripts), one of the documents from the ARG was a spreadsheet called 'Klaus' (which IS the name of the former IT guy Gwen's asking about because she heard/saw young Lena arguing with him), and we have at least 3 text-to-speech "voices" that Alice has given names (Chester, Norris, and Augustus).

All of that was running through my brain, and then I heard this passage within the first few minutes of the episode:

LENA - Nonsense. Sam is the only one who has had any cake so far. GWEN - And that was only because you practically forced it down his throat. SAM - No, no, it was… nice. LENA - People like chocolate cake.

People like chocolate cake? She didn't even ask her employees (all 5 of them at that time) what flavor they'd prefer, or if they'd want something else? No. She just knows a fact that "people" like chocolate cake, so of course, her employees--who are people--would like chocolate cake.

Almost like a computer following a logic-based workflow, perhaps?

Lots of people have been trying to figure out who in the office is the Big Bad, and many are saying Gwen just because of her ambition and her last name (Bouchard), but I think her name is a red herring. Others are saying Alice knows more than she lets on (and so many are hating on her, and I will NOT ABIDE THE ALICE DYER SHADE because I love her and I would very probably hide bodies for her) but I agree that certain things she's said are a little sus, though they really could just be her personality. I really have known some women like her, and they are some of my favorite people. (Plus, the fact that we now know that she's the most tenured employee at the OIAR--save possibly Lena--does make the brain churn some more.)

But with this line about chocolate cake, and how she was unable to join them at the pub, and how we haven't had a scene with her outside of the OIAR office, it makes me think that Lena might just be part code.

[Let me also add this really quick: I've seen A LOT of people trying to make the current episodes fit into Smirke's 14 +Dekker's 1, but I don't think the Entities as we codified them are what we're dealing with in this universe. I think trying to link everything back to that show will be a lot of wasted thought, because as they said, this isn't a direct sequel. (Do I think it's actually Jon, Martin, and Jonah--yes, Jonah, not Jurgen--trapped in the computer system? A bit, but it won't shatter my appreciation if the voices are something else entirely.)

Plus, I've seen others saying that the statements we've heard, while creepy, aren't all necessarily to do with fear. Most of them are about desires and obsessions.

The woman who wanted so desperately to see her dead husband again that she'd get scammed over and over to possibly resurrect him;

the person who wanted to spelunk an 'unsolved' site to the point of crime;

the woman who wanted to finally feel comfortable in her skin to the point of disfiguring herself;

the man who wanted so badly to climb out of his assigned station and achieve fame that he'd regularly 'feed' his violin blood from other people;

and the man who wanted to feel the same terror he felt when watching scary movies with his dad when he was a kid to the point of chasing down 'borderline illegal films' and ignoring LITERALLY ALL the red flags to the end.

I think that theory is the closest to what we may actually encounter.]

I've seen others on reddit saying they think that this series will be about the race to create the philosopher's stone--the stone that creates the elixir of life and, essentially, immortality. I think it's a valid idea. But, what if it went further than that?

Because with all the alchemical hints dropping in the show's logo, the ARG, and the 3-category system to the statements (yes, I'm keeping track) that could make one think of the spirit, the mind, and the body in alchemy....

What if they're trying to create life from software?

What if these entities or desires or whatevers have been working through some ancient busted code, feeding off statements from "real" humans experiencing strong emotions, watching the employees that work with it every single night, so they can create something as close to a human as possible from just wires and 3 decades of unreadable code?

Oh lord... it just occurred to me that--due to this being a HORROR podcast--they might need to collect a skin suit for the Not Quite Human. Is that what happened to Klaus? Ick. And now I'm hoping I'm wrong.

#the magnus protocol #tma #the magnus archives #tmagp #rant post #theory

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I hope that there's still a spot available for the matchup event :) If so, I would like to be matched with someone from Hunter X Hunter! The only characters I wouldn't feel comfortable with are from the Zoldyck family.

By the way, my pronouns are she/her, and I'm straight. I think of myself as extroverted and outgoing. Maybe I get a little quiet or anxious at big parties, but if I see someone matching my energy or willing to talk I just can't shut up, so much that I worry that I might overshare. I like to tell jokes and make friends laugh in general. I can be a bit impulsive sometimes, jumping right into things when I'm not ready yet. And also I kinda tend to forget things, like signing up to exams 😭.

I love collecting vinyls, mainly rap and hip hop ones, and going to concerts. And in the meantime I love spending time with friends to go out and have a drink :) That's why I like more extroverted guys who have no problem in chatting and getting along with people. I've also been with introverts but extroverts are more my type.

I hope it wasn't too much! Thank you in advance if you take the request, I love your writing <3 xxx

notes - Anon!! Thank you for your patience for this, honestly, it means the world! I hope you're doing well and thank you so much for the compliment! I have the perfect man for you, so let's jump right in !! <3

THE CHARACTER I CHOSE FOR YOU IS...

he is a big ball of energy that will match your personality perfectly!

he will party hard and overall just have a good time with you

he loves your friends and loves to just hang out with you

i honestly feel like you two met because he was a friend of a friend and you hit it off from there

he loves laughing with you and making you laugh

he is the perfect extrovert for you and you two are always out having fun

and even if you're not out, you stay home listening to music

if you're forgetting things, it's likely that he is too, but honestly, I think he would be great at reminding you about stuff. he's a very organized dude, so I think he would make a shared planner for the two of you

you will often find him (when he's not hanging out with you) studying, which is super hot that he can be this overly amazing goofy guy in public and just be smart and quiet at home tee hee

he loves listening to you. oversharing doesnt mean anything to him, so if you have something to say, he is all ears

if anything, i think he loves hearing gossip, so if you've got it, he is already wrapped up with a robe and a glass of wine

~~~~~

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

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practically-an-x-man · 10 months ago

Text

Whatever Keeps You Around (Rick Flag x Eris)

Summary: Based on this prompt, Eris runs into an immortal surprise in a very mundane place. (Title from First Time by Hozier)

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Mild jealousy, mild possessive themes, some mentions of violence.

____

"Go see if they have any bread you like, hon."

Eris nodded, ducking past him and half-jogging up to the shelf of artisanal bread in the corner of the store. This was why he'd picked this store, even though it was small and pricey and overly-organic: Eris claimed it was the only place in New Orleans that made bread the right way, whatever they in their mind deemed the right way.

All Rick knew was that it cost about eight dollars a pop and was loaded with spices he couldn't identify, and that Eris could go through three loaves a week if he let them. Usually he did. The one perk to working for Amanda Waller was the paycheck, and that allowed him at least enough wiggle room to buy the right kind of bread.

She jogged back up to him, two loaves wrapped in paper in her arms, just as Rick had finished thanking the deli clerk for his cold cuts and cheeses. Eris tucked the bread into the shopping cart almost delicately and promptly plucked the deli bags from his hands to inspect his selections.

"Oven-roasted turkey? Not the herb kind?"

"Outta stock. I've got thyme and stuff back at the house if it really bothers you," Rick replied, "What kind of bread did you pick out?"

"Honey-rosemary and something they call rustic medley," Eris muttered, "I'll be the judge of that."

"Sounds pretty good," he agreed, "Maybe we can make butter to go with it."

Eris tilted his head, something Rick stupidly misinterpreted as a lack of understanding.

"I saw it online, you just put heavy cream and a little salt in a mason jar, shake it u-"

"I'd be willing to bet I'm more familiar with making butter than you are, Flag." Eris cut him off, sharp as always, "But why?"

"I dunno. Seems like fun."

"You have a real strange idea of fun. And this is coming from someone who lived through tapestry being the popular hobby." they jeered, but tossed a carton of heavy cream into the cart as they passed the dairy case. Rick tried to hide his smile. If anyone was the definition of 'actions speak louder than words', it was Eris.

He stayed close to Rick's side as they wandered the store, occasionally tossing things into the cart on what looked like pure whim. Cans of tomato soup, the ones Rick remembered mentioning were his favorite because they reminded him of his childhood, made their way in alongside pretzels and peanut butter and bars of high-cacao baking chocolate. It was far too bitter for his tastes, at least in anything other than baked goods, but Eris could snack on it like a Hershey bar. She liked it for the same reason she liked the artisanal bread, he thought. Nostalgia, or the closest thing to nostalgia they could find.

"Lasagna tonight? Or should we just find something to stick in the oven?" Rick asked, frowning at the prices of the pasta boxes on the shelves. Eris was back at his side in a moment, moving so quickly and silently that he would have jumped if he wasn't used to it.

"Hm. Neither. Make your pot pie." he decided, and Rick felt him lean in against his side, "I have a taste for it."

His mother's recipe, the one he'd tried so hard to get right after her death, now lived on as a favorite in the mind of a centuries-old metahuman.

That one made him feel good.

He knew Eris wasn't one for public affection, but he still couldn't resist wrapping his arm around their shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of their head. He pulled back quickly, before Eris could wriggle away or complain about looking soft, and waved a hand at the produce aisle they'd left in their wake.

"Go grab me a bag of baby carrots and some green beans, then," he said, then paused and corrected, "In a bag. Not just loose green beans."

"I know that, smartass." Eris huffed, rolling her eyes at him as she walked away. Rick suppressed a chuckle.

There was someone else in the produce aisle, apparently trying to decide between a starfruit and a cherimoya. They were half a head taller than Eris, with wavy brown hair halfway down their back and a flowing blue sundress swishing around their knees.

Rick didn't pay them much mind, and was about to turn and grab a can of biscuits when Eris froze in his tracks.

"Julius?"

The taller figure whipped around so fast it must have given them whiplash, and their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Rick could see, even from afar, that their features had the same strangely archaic look as Eris' own, though perhaps a continent and a few centuries apart.

"Oh my- Eris?" they stammered, then gestured vaguely at themself, "And it's- er, Wisteria now. Wisty."

"Wisty." Eris repeated, as if testing out the name, "You're... very not dead, for someone three hundred years old."

"Made a deal with a witch a while back. And you're... very tame for how I remember you."

That made a grin flash across Eris' face, quick and sharp and promising only dark things.

"Try me."

But Wisty didn't flinch. She just smiled right back, though this one was nostalgic, almost soft.

The thought struck Rick like a bolt of lightning.

Eris had a type.

Underneath the flowing fabric of her dress, Wisty had to be at least as tall as Rick himself was, and just as stacked with muscle. Old scars littered what bare skin was visible around her clothing, like she'd been a fighter in a past life- or perhaps still was. And she knew not to flinch at those shark-smiles Eris threw at her. Just like Rick did.

The thought made something strange bubble up inside him. He wasn't sure he liked it. As strange and twisted as Eris' affections could be, he'd never before had competition for those affections. It was actually one of the best things about being with them, knowing they'd always drift back to him at the end of all the chaos.

It wasn't Wisteria's arrival alone that had him so tense. What really got him was the set of Eris' posture as he spoke to her: leaned back slightly on his heels, shoulders loose, head tilted ever-so-slightly in curiosity. Casual. Relaxed. The only time he'd ever seen Eris truly relaxed was when they were alone with him.

"We should catch back up." Wisty decided, a smile slowly growing on her face, "Go... spar like the old times or something. I'm a lot tougher than I used to be."

"I don't doubt it." Eris said, their spine automatically straightening at the promise of a good challenge.

He deserved this, Rick thought. This was some sort of cosmic payback for those two years he spent pushing her aside in favor of June, for snapping at all the times they suggested making him into a metahuman like them - it was all to keep him safe, to keep him around.

Well, here was someone who'd stuck around. Who'd played the long game, the centuries-long game, the way Rick was always so afraid to commit to. Who could hold their own against Eris, when she still had to pull her punches against him.

"What do you think? My lance and your spear, or hand-to-hand?" Wisty asked, playfully throwing up her fists with a broad grin. Eris returned the gesture, bouncing on his toes a little.

It was like he'd forgotten Rick was there, just ten feet back. And even as much as he wanted to call out, to remind them... he couldn't move. All he could do was watch it all unravel before him, the can of biscuits still held tight in one hand. Suddenly his mom's old recipe didn't seem to matter much.

"It'll be like before. You and me," Wisty said, "The old war god and the king's footsoldier."

Then there was a different kind of tension in Eris' posture. The shift was sudden, her chin lifted and her shoulders drawn back, all joviality transformed into something more guarded.

"I'm with someone." he said, each word crisply spaced, and brushed past Wisty with smooth, disciplined steps. They grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a handful of green beans into it, pausing only to pluck a few wrinkled and undesirable vegetables from the lot and toss them back. Wisteria turned, fixing them with a tilted expression.

"You told me you wouldn't love another. You told me love was too painful. You told me... that I was the last one."

Eris snatched a bag of baby carrots, holding them tight in her hand as she turned.

"I was wrong." they said, chin set and eyes blazing, "And if you do a damn thing to him, if you hurt him thinking that'll bring me back to you, I'll kill you where you stand. And I will feel no remorse."

With that, he stormed his way back to Rick and tossed the vegetables into the shopping cart.

"You were staring." they muttered, taking the can of biscuits from his hand and dropping it into the cart alongside the rest of the groceries. Then, to his surprise, they folded their fingers into his own. For Eris, that was the equivalent of a public strip tease. Rick gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, I know. Couldn't help it." he admitted, knowing better than to try and duck around it, "First time I've ever seen one of your old friends. Didn't realize there was anyone else... like me."

"She wasn't like you." Eris huffed, ducking around his arm to give the cart a brisk shove, "Nobody's like you."

"It's alright if she was." Rick argued, "I know I'm not the only person you've loved, doll. That's okay."

Eris opened his mouth to respond, then reconsidered and shook his head. It must've been a lot to explain, or something they couldn't bear to speak in such public company. Their posture was still tense, shoulders stony, and they didn't spare so much as a single glance back at the produce aisle.

"Nobody's like you." she just repeated, even more set and sullen. Rick decided there were two ways he could take that: a sign that this love was real, or a sign that the pattern would end up repeating itself in a few years. He decided to take it as the former. The latter, true as it might be, felt far too pessimistic.

"Rome!" a voice called from behind them, and finally Eris turned. Wisteria had caught up, and fire a glance between the two of them. Rick met her eyes calmly, and found something strange swimming there. She returned her gaze to Eris, unflinching. "A hundred years. Rome. Then we'll have our fight."

Rick could hear the other half of her words: because he won't be around by then. Maybe he should have been offended by the implications. He didn't bother. He'd always known there would be someone after him. He didn't expect to meet that someone, but... this was life with Eris. He'd learned to get used to things like this.

"Fine." Eris agreed, though the firm look never left her eyes, "I will meet you on the steps of the Colosseum in one hundred years exactly. We will have our fight."

Their grip tightened on his hand unexpectedly, right on the verge of being painful. Wisteria's eyes fell straight to it, and she frowned a little. Eris must not have been any more affectionate in their prior life.

"But you will get no love from me then." they concluded, "They will bury my heart when they bury him."

Rick saw hurt bloom across Wisty's face, a shocked and helpless sort of pain, but Eris just spun and gave the cart another brutal shove towards the checkout lanes. Rick found himself pausing an extra moment, looking into Wisty's shockingly crestfallen eyes and debating an apology.

In the end, he just shut his mouth and trailed after Eris, leaving Wisty where she stood. He had a sense that speaking to her would only make things worse. It was better just for him to be, in her mind, some speechless nameless thing at Eris' heels. It was probably safer for the both of them.

He caught up to Eris just shy of the checkout lanes, right as they set a rotisserie chicken in the front basket of the cart. She glanced up at him as he approached and offered him something like a smile. It was a little pointed, a little irritated, but he didn't mind that too much.

"You're mine." she muttered, possessive like a wolf to its mate, "Until they put you in the ground, you're mine."

"I love you too, wartime."

#my ocs #oc eris #my writing #oneshot #shortfic #the suicide squad #rick flag #oc x canon #light angst #happy ending

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