#trucker isolation

[somethinglukewarm]

about isolation. A truck driver story ?

[ckret2]

So y'all know the Gravity Falls production bible that leaked three weeks ago. Someone in one of my discord servers pointed this out:

And, naturally, that spawned an entire AU.

AU Concept: Ford was kicked out instead of Stan and takes a job as a trucker to makes ends meet since he couldn't go to college, while still studying the weird and anomalous however he can.

Ford driving around from quirky small town to quirky small town, drifting through the liminal spaces of truck stops, meeting odd people in isolated diners, seeing strange things out on the road—a deer with too many eyes bounding across a two-lane highway, a flirty woman at a rest stop who doesn't blink or breathe, mysterious lights in the sky at night, inhuman growls on the CB or 50-year-old broadcasts on the radio—and taking notes when he stops for gas or food.

Aside from having gotten kicked out before graduating high school, Ford's the same person he is in canon.

He's still an ambitious guy, and here "ambitious" means working hard and saving as much money as he can—so, a long haul owner-operator who spends weeks at a time on the road. (He goes through a LOT of educational audiobooks.) Plus, this is the easiest way for him to get to travel the country; and since it looks like his "travel the world" dreams with Stan are dead, he'll take what he can get.

Since he's never in the same spot long and carries his life in a truck, almost all of Ford's research is in his journal. His bag of investigation supplies has an instant camera, a portable tape recorder, a thermometer, a flashlight, rubber gloves, and a few zip lock bags—and that's about it. It has to share space with all his clothes, toiletries, and nonperishable food when he's on the road. He doesn't have much opportunity to closely examine anything odd he finds, unless he's lucky enough to run into something when he can stop for the night. He has to cram his paranormal research around the side of his full-time job.

He doesn't live in Gravity Falls, but he knows it exists. Every time he moves—to Chicago, to Nebraska, to California—he seems to inch closer. He currently lives in Portland and usually hauls loads between the Pacific Northwest and Chicago or New York. He stops at the truck stop outside Gravity Falls when he can and has gone fishing in town a few times. He doesn't have the benefit of extensive research to know that this is the weirdest town in the world; but it seems pretty weird to him, there are local rumors about the town, and he's had some weird experiences in the area.

Plus, he can't explain it, but it's like the town's calling to him. He wants to move there, but it'd put him over an hour outside of Portland where the nearest jobs are. Maybe if somebody chucked him like $100k to build a cabin in the woods; but what are the odds of that?

He does know Fiddleford. Truck broke down somewhere and Fiddleford kindly pulled over to fix it on the fly. They looked at each other, had mutual knee-jerk "dumb trucker/hillbilly" reactions, and within ten minutes both went "oh wait you're the most brilliant genius i've ever met." Fiddleford's living the same life he was in canon before Ford called him to Gravity Falls—with his family in California, trying to start a computer company out of his garage—but they make friends and keep in contact.

One time Ford stops at a kitschy roadside knickknack store that also sells new agey magic things—crystals, tarot cards, incense, etc. He bought a "lucky" rearview mirror ornament that looks like an Eye of Providence in a top hat and hung it from his cab fan, and ever since then he's had weird dreams whenever he sleeps in his truck.

Things I don't know yet: what Stan's up to; or why Ford's the one who got kicked out. I tend to believe that in canon Stan wasn't just kicked out because he ruined Ford's college prospects, but rather because the family thought he deliberately sabotaged Ford; so in this AU, Ford would've been kicked out over a proportionate crime.

[milkteabinniechan]

†Dancing With Shadows - Minho

MINORS DNI 18+ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: vampire! Minho x fem! reader

summary: Loneliness. Isolation. The only place a modern-day vampire can blend in is a dark, crowded nightclub. Minho has learned how to live without temptation, until you ask him to dance...

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, biting, predator/prey dynamic, character d3ath (sorry)

a/n: this one is definitely more scary than romantic. Minho has been a vampire for a long time and unfortunately you weren't able to survive this encounter. Next week will be more fluff I promise!

Did you know that the decibel level that can damage a human ear is 85? That's it. The average decibel level of a night club is 90 decibels. The decibels of a human’s scream is 120. This nightclub is pushing 88.7 at the moment. The bouncer looks annoyed. The bartender looks exhausted. And this is just a Tuesday night. This place gets a lot more out of hand on the weekends. But the weekends get too crowded for me. Crowds of people ask too many questions.

Why are you so pale? How old are you exactly? Why are your hands so cold? When humans drink, they have a tendency to be a bit nosy. But on a Tuesday, the crowd is small. The humans keep to themselves and their friends. That's where I fit in. Alone. Unassuming. Just a guy at the bar.

“Do you want to dance?”

You were very unassuming yourself. Not a particularly remarkable human being. Nothing about you screamed confident or powerful. You actually seemed a bit out of place here. This place of loud music and flashing lights. I knew one thing for certain however. You smelled absolutely incredible. A smell that only my heightened senses could pick up. This wasn't a perfume or a type of shampoo. This was a scent that shot straight through my lifeless body into my cold, unbeating heart. Damn you. You poor little thing. What do I do now?

**************

You liked this dive bar. During the day it was filled with greasy men in trucker hats that teemed around a single pool table or a single girl. But at night, the owner would turn the lights down and the music loud. Everyone blended in when the lights were low. You always enjoyed the night time. The cool air, the stars, the sounds. You even liked the people. That's when he caught your eye. Slumped against the bar, avoiding eye contact with everyone that passed him by. Mr. Cool Guy, huh? We'll see. You quickly made your way over to where he was posted and gave him your best flirtatious tone. How could he resist?

The two of you made your way to the dancefloor as soon as a new song was about to start. The beat started low and began to build. Like the Earth was literally rising around the two of you, Mr. Cool grabbed your waist and pulled you in. He was freezing. You were burning up. As you pressed your body into his, you worried you might melt him like an ice cube in the Sun. But he continued to dance with you. His moves were fluid and ancient. Like he had all the time in the world to learn every dance style ever created. He was talented. He was exotic. And you didn't know it yet, but you were completely under his spell.

You gripped his hand in yours and whispered softly, “come with me.”

He nodded as you pulled him off the dancefloor and into a darkened corner. You backed yourself into where the two walls meet and let his tall, slender frame cage you in. You looked up while he looked down, the two of you lingering in a heated standoff for what felt like an eternity.

“What's your name?” You finally managed to ask, your voice no more than a whisper.

“Does it matter?” He answered. His thumb brushing along your bottom lip.

You thought about the question for a moment. Does it matter? echoed in your head as you melted into the sensation of his thumb pulling and rubbing against your bottom lip and then your top.

“...No, it doesn't.” You responded without warning. Not even you were sure where that answer came from.

“Good girl.” He said, his voice taking on a more sinister tone.

You fluttered your eyes closed as you felt his lips press into yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle. Almost loving, like the two of you had been lovers in many lives before this. The nightclub seemed to crumble away at your feet and you felt like you were floating. Not floating in the happy, romantic sense. Floating in a way that felt like you could fall at any moment and no one would catch you. That you would fall and you would die. And this handsome, mysterious, terrifying stranger would be the one to blame.

His hands snaked up your sides and tangled into your hair. His tongue pushed its way inside your mouth like it belonged there. Your tongue followed suit and danced around his open mouth. Soon the euphoric feeling of floating gave way to a sharp pain. You snapped your head back and brought your fingers to your tongue to feel a deep cut. Fresh blood coated your fingertips as you looked from your hand to the mystery man. His smile changed from one of flirtation to one of malice. His teeth gleamed in the flickering floodlights above you revealing two impossibly sharp canines dripping with your blood. Your eyes grew large and wet with unshed tears as your brain tried to make sense of what was happening. All of your senses were heightened and your body was trying to protect itself as you tried to break free from the wall. But the handsome stranger was too quick, pinning your wrists against the hard brick. His smile grew more menacing as his lips inches closer and closer to your neck.

“Well, I didn't want you to find out this quickly. I wanted to have a little more fun with you first, but here we are. Oh well. At least you'll taste good.”

A deep chuckle pierced your eardrums louder than the music. A laughter that guaranteed that this was going to be your last moment alive. You screamed loud. The loudest you had ever screamed. It was all you could think to do.

But your screams fell on deaf ears as the music around you boomed and blasted. The last sensation you remember is sharp teeth sinking into your flesh like tissue paper. Like your human body was nothing more than a midnight snack for some unholy creature. Some godless abomination that laid its sights on you. It was all a waiting game. A predator that had already found its prey and just enjoyed the sight of it dancing around before he devoured it.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star

[bozers]

Random Mk character headcanons Pt.1 THE MENFOLK

Raiden

Sweaty. Sweats like a mf even when he isn't working. Has to wear undershirts to combat the waterfall coming off him.

Never struggled with anger issues until becoming a champion and getting the amulet.

Secretly a bit freaky. Is down for pretty much anything eye emoji

Reiko

Has a mild ED. Was worse when he was younger, but he's getting better about it. Used to hoard food. Struggles with body dysmorphia due to unrealistic expectations, comparing himself to Shao ( a completely different species...)

Allergic to cats.

Loves the ocean. Dreams of one day owning his own boat to take out sailing whenever he wants.

Kung Lao

Weirdly enough? Introvert. Raiden is one of very few people who doesn't deplete his social battery.

Struggles with bouts of depression. Self medicates with Marijuana.

He is incredibly secure in himself and none of his confidence is an act. That doesn't mean he can't get discouraged sometimes, but he won't try and hide disappointment behind false smiles.

MOAR BELOW vvvvv

Johnny Cage

Struggled with contamination OCD tendencies all his life and coped using substances. His lifestyle is in direct conflict with his illness and it acts like immersion therapy in a way.

Cancer runs in his family so he is vigilant about getting screened once a year.

Life in Hollywood almost crushed him into an apathetic cynic, but somehow, he has managed to stay hopeful if not a bit delusional at times. His hunger for recognition rivaled only by his boundless curiosity.

Smoke

He had a tongue ring for many years and wants to eventually get a tattoo but can't settle on a design.

Can "Slav Squat" and isn't shy about showing off to friends.

Struggles with unhealthy attachment styles.

Rain

Is actually an extrovert. He may think himself above others, but he still requires validation and gets sad if he doesn't get to talk to those close to him.

Iron deficient

If he had never been appointed as High Mage, he would have gone on to teach magic theory at the academy.

Geras

He may be immortal, but that doesn't mean he just sits in a room all day. Geras is endlessly curious, as this is a core part of his very being. Observing and learning new things is both his primary function and an endless font of joy.

He knows how lonely Liu Kang is. Knows that even he can't fill the void left in his masters heart. Time for him is just a function, whereas for Liu Kang, it is and endless road of isolation

Will search up humans in funny situations on the hourglass to watch. It's like his version of FAILARMY.

Liu Kang

Is and has been incredibly lonely for eons. He really thought he would fill the void after reuniting with his old friends, but the feeling isn't the same. They don't know him. Not really.

Once he found a way to connect to his Titan friends, he visits them often. Being able to talk with Lord Raiden again alleviated the strain on his heart tenfold. Reuniting with Kung Lao, (his boy, his bro!!) has also helped give him hope for the next few eons. Same goes for Kitana. (She was the one to find him again after the dust settled.)

His brother is alive in his timeline. Of course they have no relationship, Liu choosing not to intervene due to fears of drawing danger to him. Instead of becoming a shaolin monk, Chan lives happily in the united states as an Ice Road Trucker.

Shang Stung

Has BPD and narcissistic personality disorder. This severely impacted his ability to live peacefully in society and pushed him to grifting. Taking advantage of others was less exhausting than pretending to be a friendly employee to some shopkeeper.

He is half human. Shang's mother traveled to outworld during the last tournament 100 years ago. She was a servant to Liu Kang's champions but ended up running away with a disgraced Edenian.

Doesn't identify as a specific gender, especially after learning shapeshifting. Will often times swap between whatever he feels like that day.

Syzoth

Double jointed and hyper flexible. Shang Stung had to find a way to control him other than shackles, cuz he could always slip out no matter how tight they were.

He is very at ease around children, and falls back into dad mode immediately. Is also a purveyor of terrible dad jokes.

Has Gilberts Syndrome. His species use of bile/acid attacks puts a lot of strain on his liver. Due to his rough living, he didn't get adequate nutrition and now his body struggles to keep balanced out humors.

Only needs to eat once a week, but will happily snack if something tasty comes across his path.

Shao

Has no biological children. Despite his family's standing and pressure to continue the prestigious line, Shao has never taken a wife. Multiple concubines and bastards, but no wife or suitable heirs.

He doesn't view any of the young men and women he mentors as children, just tools. Even though he saw himself in young Reiko, his affection is entirely dependent on his loyalty. Reiko is more of an extension of himself, a way to overcompensate for what he lacks.

Has IBS.

Kuai Liang

He left the Lin Kuei a few years after Tomas was adopted. At odds with his father at the time, he left to go live with their allied clan: the Syrai Ryu. He was born a cryomancer like Bi Han, but chose to pursue pyromancy to distance himself from his lineage. Though able to wield fire, he is still weak to it. When he finally returned home, his father welcomes him back like the prodigal son he was. Bi han deeply, deeply resented this.

Got his tattoo in Hong Kong while he was totally plastered (not a reputable place. They even got the tattoo wrong lol)

Unreadable poker face. DO NOT play cards against this man.

Kenshi

Was forced to drop out of high school to support his family when his older brother was killed, and subsequently got wrapped up in yakuza shit. Has since taken his high school equivalency test (GED) and passed with flying colors

Is addicted to caffeine.

LOVES holidays! Especially Christmas. He may not get all his friends gifts, but the ones he does give are very well thought out and personal.

Bi Han

Doesn't take care of himself or maintain his appearance very well. But he basically won the genetic lottery so it's not that noticeable.

Has a type A personality and is a perfectionist. But he is actually a very gracious person at heart, and will silently shoulder the brunt of responsibility to spare his brothers.

Was happy to mentor Tomas when he first arrived, even though Kuai and Tomas had the stronger friendship. His attitude changed, however, when Tomas choose to stay after Kuai ran off. Instead of seeing the loyalty of Tomas's decision, he saw it as a shallow way to win his fathers favor.

(he couldn't see it was actually jealously. That Kuai could have a choice to leave but he didn't. Tomas had an actual valid reason to want to leave, but he is the one remaining? Bi Han has big feelings and does not process them well )

Quan Chi

Once he started losing his hair, he decided to go bald.

Much prefers to spend his time in the Netherrealm. His dominion there is near absolute, and he would much rather be in the company of those subservient to him. He doesn't see anything wrong with this dynamic, believing this the superior to mutual friendship. (this is laughably hypocritical given his relationship to Shang mf Tsung)

Indulges in all kinds of delicious foods. Sweets, fine drink, rare cuts of meat- the works. Even if he dislikes it, he will eat it anyway just for the sake of it. He made himself ill by eating an entire box of chocolate once.

Havik

Was born in secret to slave parents. They hid him from the government for as long as they could, and so he was able to live a relatively carefree childhood. Other's his age, and of unsanctioned birth, would be seized by the state and put to work as soon as possible.

Fierce passion aside, Havik is very introspective. When not fighting, he often sits in silent contemplation for hours at a time. Before his mind begins to degrade from the blood magic use, he would sit and scrutinize every action he took.

Unlike Quan Chi, Havik cannot bring himself to indulge in luxuries. He feels tremendous guilt given how many of his people are still unable to enjoy even the barest bit of comfort.

He leaves his dick and balls at home for safe keeping.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Truckdriver au where Ari is a single and handsome truck driver and reader is a camgirl and a hitchhiker. One day Ari and reader met in a diner and the two hit it off quick. Smut please

hey honey! sorry for taking so long! I hope you like it, honestly love trucker ari!

summary - ari finally meets his favourite camgirl at his regular diner.

warning - smut, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, swearing, creampie, oral sex, sex video.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You wore a tiny crop top that read ‘Treat me like the princess I am’, paired with a little denim skirt and hi-tops. You twirl the straw around with your tongue before sucking the chocolate milkshake into your mouth, moaning softly at the taste. You grab a chip, dip it into the sauce and bring it to your mouth, and your plumped lips wrap around the savoury food, biting into it and chewing it. You don’t notice that you’ve caught the attention of a handsome older man, his cap pulled down to cover his face a bit. His beard is rugged and scruffed, as he’s been on the road for a long time. 

Ari had felt his heart stop as his gaze landed on your figure, not only with how you ate and drank but also how he had noticed who you were. The wig and mask you usually wore during your videos do nothing to hide the beauty you hold. He felt himself harden beneath the table, remembering the videos and photos you had sent him. The money he had paid was worth it with how orgasmic his release was. You turned around in your seat, deciding to scan the diner before your eyes connected with the large man, feeling slick gather between your thighs. You give him a small smile before returning your attention to your drink, hoping he’d come over. 

Ari stands, placing some cash down on the table before making his way over to you. He couldn’t pass up the chance of meeting you. It was as though you were a celebrity, and he was your fan. Ari clears his throat as he stands beside your seated form, “Is this seat taken?” You turn and stare at him, eyes slowly moving up and down his body as you check him out. Your eyes widen as you see the prominent bulge in his pants, and your thighs squeeze together at the thought of the giant man pounding into you. You had never met someone so big before, and it was as though a dream had come true. You shake your head, gesturing for him to sit. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you get a whiff of his scent. “Thank you, so what is a gorgeous woman like you doing all alone in a place like this?” His deep voice sends pleasant shivers through your body.

Your cheeks heat, wondering how a man as handsome as him could think you were gorgeous. “I’m running away!” You giggle, lips wrapping around the straw again as you drink the remaining shake, not knowing how hard Ari is restraining himself from bending you over the counter and pounding into you. “I just wanted to see how city life is… I’m always stuck in an isolated area that grows boring, you know?” You chew on your bottom lip, brows furrowing as your eyes connect with his. Your breath nearly hitches when you notice how blue they are.

Ari grunts, nodding. “Don’t worry. You’re young. You’ll get to see the world.” He looks down at you, his eyes slowly moving down to your exposed thighs, holding back a groan as he notices how they are squeezed together. Ari distracts himself by looking out the window, seeing that there’s only his truck and what seems to be the worker's car, and he knows that the bus doesn’t come till morning. “So, how’re you thinking of getting to the city? Bus doesn’t come till tomorrow.” He raises a brow.

You blow your cheeks out as you spin around and look out the same window, noticing how it’s no longer as bright as before. “I didn’t really think about that…” You blink, wondering if the older man sees you only as a dumb little girl following her dreams without a plan. You know you could probably call a taxi, which would cost a fortune and even though you had the money for the long ride. You didn’t really want to spend it all like that. You shrug, spinning back around and dipping another chip into the sauce, swinging your legs back and forth as you eat. 

“I don’t want to come off weird or a creep, but I’d be happy to take you. I’m heading that way, so I could drop you off at a bus station.” Ari shrugs like it’s no big deal, but inside, he’s melting at the thought of being so close to you in his truck. You invaded his dreams, your moans, your voice, how you played with your pretty little cunt. He practically drools at the thought of tasting you, of feeling your walls wrapped around his cock. Ari quickly cleared his throat, needing to get out of his mind because it was a dangerous place. 

You stare at him with wide eyes, “Really?! You’d do that for me?” Ari nods and grunts as you throw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you, mister! I’ll owe you! Whatever you want as payment, I’ll give!” Ari had struck gold the moment those words fell from your perfectly plumped lips, and all he replied with was a grin.

“O–oh! Mister! Ari! Right there!” You moaned, back arching from his mattress as he feasted on your cunt. Your hands fly down and tangle into his hair, pushing him closer to you, wanting to feel him more. “Fuck!” His tongue swirls around your puffy clit before he begins to suck on it, flicking his tongue simultaneously, causing your eyes to cross, and you swear you see stars floating around your head. You tug on his hair, grinding down on his tongue. Ari stares at you with lustful eyes as he eats you out. 

Ari had taken you up on your offer for payment immediately, taking you out to his truck and seducing you into his bed. Not like it was hard, you had been practically fucking him with your eyes the whole time you two were talking. He mentioned that he knew who you were as Ari kissed your neck, whispering that he wanted to be in one of your videos. He wanted every other man to see that you were his little fuck doll, and you happily agreed, setting up your phone and getting right down to business where he’s currently eating you out like there’s no tomorrow.

“I’m cumming! Ari, please!” He picks up his pace, devouring you until your soul leaves your body, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and your juices squirt out of you and cover him. Ari pulls away, his beard covered with you, and he smirks as he crawls on top of you. A whine escapes you when you feel his bulge brush against your thigh. “That was… Wow…” You blink up at him, and your lashes flutter as you’ve never had that intense of an orgasm ever. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. You know I’m your top-paying fan.” He grunts, nuzzling his face into your neck, placing kisses along it as he makes his way up to your lips. “I’ve dreamt of this, being between your legs, tasting your sweet cunt.” His hands move all over your body, staring into your eyes. “You gonna be a good girl for me and take my cock?” You nod, whimpering at his words. Your legs spread further apart, practically dripping onto his sheets. Ari quickly removes his jocks, gripping his throbbing base, stroking his hand up and down before he leads it to your glistening entrance, rubbing his thick mushroom tip against you. His head falls back. “Fuck! I’m not even inside you yet, and it feels fucking amazing already.” 

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and crashing your lips against his, stopping the moan from leaving you as he slides deep into your tight cunt. Ari’s eyes fall shut, a grunt escaping him as he feels your velvet walls hug his cock, sucking him deeper. You whimper as he bottoms out, feeling him deep inside your stomach. “Ari… So full… So big.” Your brows furrow, your nose scrunches, and your toes curl. You had never felt this complete in your life, never experienced this amount of pleasure before just by being stuffed. “Move, please. Oh, god, move!” You beg, latching onto him, wrapping your tiny legs around his waist. 

Ari’s hands grasp your hips and your cheek as he begins to move, thrusting slowly at first to get you used to his size and to stop himself from exploding immediately by how good you feel. “Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so good. Just gimme a moment… Don’t want to cum so fast.” He groans, burying his face into your neck before he picks up his pace. His hand on your cheek moves down to your hips and lifts you, quickly maneuvering a pillow underneath. The new angle hits deeper, if that was even possible, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. “My god, for a slut you’re so fucking tight and warm.” His body crowds you, surrounding you with his muscles, chest hair and scent, making your mind go fuzzy. 

You cling to him, feeling him move underneath your palms. Ari stares at you, fucking into you deeply as his eyes trace your face. “How’d I get so lucky, huh? Walking into my regular diner, meeting my favourite camgirl, and now getting to feel you. It’s a dream come true. How do you feel, sweetheart? You feel good letting an older man fuck you, huh? Like having a stranger split you open?” You nod, whining, barely able to focus on anything other than his cock sliding in and out of you. You’re so lost in your pleasure, moaning as he fucks you hard but sweet. “Such a dumb little whore.” 

Your toes curl, your back arches, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your walls clamp down on Ari’s thick member, pulsating as your arousal leaks from your used cunt. You grip his biceps, and your vision becomes black as you have the most intense orgasm. 

Ari growls, pounding harder and faster in and out of you. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him sends shivers up his spine, his balls tighten, and his cock twitches and tingles. Thick spurts of cum shoot out of his large mushroom tip and deep inside your puffy cunt. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! So good, baby!” His orgasm is neverending, cum continues to leak out of him and fill you until your cunt is overflowing. “Such a good girl, you’re a good girl. Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good.” He groans, holding your body close to him, pumping his cock in and out of you slowly before his orgasm finally comes to an end, and he buries his face into your neck, letting out a breath. “Jesus, baby.” Ari leans back, pulling his softening cock out of you and smiles at your fucked out expression. He grabs a shirt and wipes you clean before grabbing another and pulling it over your head, covering your naked body. 

“Mmm, is good. I tired.” You babble, snuggling into his pillow, barely able to register anything anymore. Ari leans over, flashing the video a smile before stopping it and turning your phone off. You try and look at him, eyes squinting as you reach out. “Cuddle?”

Ari chuckles, pulling on some jocks before crawling in behind you, pulling your body flush against his. “Course, baby. Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” He presses a kiss to the back of your head, whispering. “You’re mine, now. Gonna pump you full day and night, then put a pretty little ring on your finger. You’ll carry my babies and my last name in no time.” He smirks, and you nod, too tired to register his words.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[sylvan-librarian]

Nissa Revane, William Wordsworth, and Me

Introduction:

We are not isolated individuals but an interconnected web. Part of embracing green's philosophy is understanding the importance of how each of us figures into the lives of the others. Grasping the role this larger group plays is a vital piece in understanding how the world works. - Mark Rosewater: “It’s Not Easy Being Green Revisited” … Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods And mountains; and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eye, and ear,—both what they half create, And what perceive; well pleased to recognise In nature and the language of the sense The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being. - William Wordsworth: “Tintern Abbey” How wonderful there should be a thing we don't yet know. - Magic Creative Team: “Renewal” 

What do Nissa Revane, elf animist who had a good run in the 2010's as Magic’s iconic green planeswalker, William Wordsworth, nineteenth century British poet and the godfather of English Romanticism, and I, a mentally ill librarian who spends all his free time playing a children’s card game, all have in common? Not much, really. I’m neither a lesbian that wields earth-shaking magic nor am I the founder of a poetic movement that English majors still fawn over. However, thankfully for me, the human experience transcends time, gender, sexual preference, and even reality. There’s a lot to learn from both fiction and poetry, and I’m nothing if not a curious student. In particular, though, I’d like to talk about transitions. 

The past couple of years for me have been packed full of constant transitions: I had an emergency move away from the city I had built a life in, I finished a master’s degree in library science, and I began the long, arduous process of changing careers. Not every transition has been so traumatic, though, as I am also now in a joyful, peaceful relationship and have finally achieved a modicum of financial stability on my own terms.

Needless to say, these transitions have had me feeling introspective (even more so than usual), and I have found myself seriously wondering about my place in the world. That probably sounds dramatic (well, if the shoe fits), but as an elder millennial who was around to witness when the first acorn fell from the first tree and the first scene boy put on girl jeans to pair with his trucker’s hat, I honestly just kind of gave up on that brand of stability at some point; after all, I was fifteen on 9/11, nineteen and living in Louisiana when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans and washed away whatever trust I had left in our institutions, and twenty-one when the Bush-era recession nailed my post-undergrad job prospects into a coffin. Of course, at the risk of sounding like I’m trying to appeal to your sense of pity, I’ll admit that today’s generation coming of age during Trump and and Covid have probably had it worse than I did and have also proven themselves much stronger and more resilient than I ever was, but nevertheless, a swirling concoction of circumstances and terrible mental health habits left me feeling for decades that I’d never have a place in the world to call many own.

All that said, in my attempt to carve out a life for myself and discover my role within my larger community, I started rereading Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Keats (the poets of English Romanticism were my favorite discovery as a literature student and some of the only writers I have carried with me beyond academia), since their poetry also dealt in themes of self-discovery, memory, and transition (also, their poetry is broody and navel-gazing - something I definitely relate with). However, as a Magic: The Gathering Vorthos with basic forest brainrot, I was also struck on this reread just how close my own experiences and the themes of the Romantic Poets mirrored how my favorite green characters from Magic fiction navigate their world. At first, I felt that this is fairly low-hanging fruit, since on the surface, themes like “finding yourself in nature,” “the rejection of social norms,” “celebrating your connections,” etc. are common enough to be found in all sorts of literature. However, the more I thought about it and connected the dots in my head, the more I realized just how much green’s themes in modern Magic fiction, particularly as expressed through Nissa Revane, helped me understand my own place in the world.

Indeed, while this essay grew out of the concept of tracing the similarities between Green Magic and Romantic Poetry (not the most riveting read for most of you, I’m sure), this particular tale kind of grew in the telling (to loot a phrase from Tolkien) until it became my own personal journal of self-discovery. If the entire m.o. of my online presence didn’t already give it away, my love of Nissa Revane - planeswalker, animist, green mage, icon - colors most of my thoughts about Magic: The Gathering, and this is no different. Compiling Nissa’s arc throughout Magic’s Story, synthesizing it with the things I love the most about the Romantic poets, and letting it stew around in my brain for the last year highlighted something of vital importance to me: the message, one that weaves its way throughout Nissa’s entire narrative, that personal growth means learning that the definitions I have held onto for my whole life - of myself, of other people, of even nature and the universe itself - are but a narrow, small part of a greater whole; that embracing healthy connection with the world around me and seeking to understand my place within it helped change parts of me that I thought were intrinsic to my very nature and helped me bloom into the best version of myself.

Part I: 

(me, trying to juggle graduate school and work)

Last year around this time, I found myself struggling. I was wrapping up my last full semester of my graduate program, failing miserably at balancing school and work, isolating myself from my friends because of how busy I was, and unhappy about living in Central Texas again after I swore I was done with the region. Throughout all of this, following Magic Story was a boon to my shocked nerves, though I rarely found time to follow it completely. It wasn’t pure joy, however, because as a result of stress mixed with the, at the time, untreated depression and anxiety, Nissa getting compleated - with “no way” of getting healed - during the “All Will Be One” story (not to mention that her tragic loss happened OFF SCREEN - the disrespect) severely bummed me out, so I tuned most the “March of the Machine” stories out to focus on wrapping up my semester. That is, I tuned it out until the final story, K. Arsenault Rivera’s “Rhythms of Life” was released in late March. Letting Chandra and a healed Nissa kiss at the end was a nice touch, but it was not for another month until we found out what happened to them after the climax of the Phyrexian stories.

When that month passed, however, on May 1, Grace P. Fong’s “She Who Breaks the World,” was released in tandem with previews for “March of the Machine: The Aftermath” products. Of course, I was going to like this story because I like Nissa and Chandra, and I have been a proponent of them being romantically involved since “Zendikar Resurgent,” but this story struck a deeper chord in me than I expected. I felt an immediate kinship with Fong’s representation of Nissa, a character who is also in a state of transition: in a place she doesn’t want to be, isolated from her friends and loved ones, and trying to redefine who she was after traumatic events left her floating listlessly throughout her world. 

The events of “All Will be One” and “March of the Machine,” after all, were Nissa’s darkest hours in a life full of dark hours. Her mind enslaved and her bodily autonomy stolen from her, Nissa was forced to do things in service to the Phyrexian matriarch Elesh Norn that horrified her. However, due to the nature of Phyrexian compleation — having her mind and body altered on a genetic level — she performed these actions in the moment with fanatical zeal, even pleasure. We are told in the first episode of the March of the Machine arc, “Triumph of the Fleshless” that Nissa “is the finest gift the Planeswalkers have given Phyrexia. Even standing at Norn's side, she can steer Realmbreaker's attention. To say nothing of her combat capabilities. If things continued at this rate she might overtake Tamiyo as Norn's favorite new servant.” Later on in “She Who Breaks the World,” while Nissa is reflecting on this, she notes that the alterations the Phyrexians made to her “granted her the ability to unleash a call through the branches of the Invasion Tree and speak the glory of Phyrexia to every plane in the Multiverse. And right now, Nissa is disgusted with herself because—despite her friends' sacrifices, despite Chandra's sacrifices—part of her misses hearing those planes.”

On the other side of these events, Nissa is mostly healed from what the Phyrexians did to her (outside of a metal cage imprisoning her chest and some scarring on her limbs where metal was grafted on), her mind is returned to her own control, and she and Chandra are finally sharing mutual love and affection instead of being mired in “will they/won’t they” hell like they had been for nearly a decade of Magic Story. However, the trauma of knowing, remembering, and feeling intimately all of the terrible things she did understandably leaves her feeling like an outcast among loved ones, and to make matters worse, she is now with a planeswalker spark, meaning she got depowered significantly and can no longer go back to her beloved Zendikar, her homeworld that she has a close intimate connection with. All this is to point out that Nissa finds herself in a spot where she has to completely redefine who she is. Nissa took great pride in being animist; now, she cannot hear the voice of the planes and her magic is basically useless. Nissa had previously discovered meaning for herself being a member of the Gatewatch: traveling the planes doing good where can and making connections with new worlds and interesting people; now, she is trapped on a plane that does not listen to her among people she very directly harmed when her mind and body were not her own. 

After a failed attempt to connect with the world of Zhalfir, Nissa begins to despair, believing that the planes have rejected her because all of the social connections she has made over the years. Nissa believes that “[s]he has spent so long connected to others that she has smothered her own connection to the Multiverse. Whether or not those bonds were made of her own volition, the planes have rejected her.” While she recognizes deep down, even if she can’t forgive herself for it just yet, that what happened while she was a Phyrexian wasn’t her fault, Nissa comes to believe that her original sin that led to this was in getting involved with the wider universe in the first place. She (and everybody who suffered from her actions as a Phyrexian) would be better off, she believes, if she had remained in her primordial, untarnished state of a champion of nature.

At this point in the narrative, Nissa’s experience reflects the way poets and writers of the Romantic Period mythologize their own world. Canadian literary critic and theorist Northrop Frye (a theorist who, truth be told, I disagree with in many respects, though his work on the Romantic Period is exhaustive and insightful) called this the “Romantic Myth.” In “A Study of English Romanticism,” Frye describes how the Romantic Myth delineates from traditional mythology:

In the older mythology the myth of creation is followed by a gigantic cyclical myth, outlined in the Bible, which begins with the fall of man, is followed by a symbolic vision of human history, under the names of Adam and Israel, and ends with the redemption of Adam and Israel by Christ. The two poles are the alienation myth of fall, the separation of man from God by sin, and the reconciling, identifying, or atoning myth of redemption which restores to man his forfeited inheritance. Translated into Romantic terms, this myth assumes a quite different shape. What corresponds to the older myth of an unfallen state, or lost paradise of Eden, is now a sense of an original identity between the individual man and nature which has been lost.

Ignoring, for a moment, the gender essentialism Frye uses, note how the lost Eden of the Romantic period was connection to nature itself. Joining society, spending precious hours having “dialogues of business, love, or strife” - all of these things are the sins that tear us away from our original, perfect self. William Wordsworth begins his “Ode: Intimations of Immortality” this way: 

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,     The earth, and every common sight,                        To me did seem                    Apparelled in celestial light,          The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore;—                    Turn wheresoe'er I may,                        By night or day. The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

To the persona of Wordsworth’s poem, this sense of identity was lost in childhood; in Nissa’s head, she “smothered her own connection to the Multiverse” when she started to value her connections to other people — Chandra, the rest of the Gatewatch, Yahenni, and many others she let into her life — at the expense, apparently, of the natural world. What’s left for her except to turn back to nature and attempt to find herself again?

Part II:

(Nissa's oath to protect the life of "every plane" plays a huge role in her identity)

What does “finding herself” look like for Nissa, though? To answer that, let’s look at a few different things. Here, we’ll examine Nissa’s place as a green character in Magic’s color pie and pick apart the ludonarrative elements in Nissa’s card designs that informs how she approaches her idea of self.

Nissa is the only planeswalker of the original five Gatewatch to have cards that branch out to other colors. At heart, though, she is a green character. Even though she has some blue elements in her personality (curiosity) and black (the ambition to make her ideals reality, whatever the cost), Nissa’s heart is “green to the very door.” 

In his near ten year old article, Mark Rosewater writes this about the philosophy of Green: 

The natural order is a thing of beauty and has all the answers to life's problems. The key is learning to sit back and recognize what is right in front of you. Each individual is born with all the potential they need. The secret to a happy life is to recognize the role you were born into and then embrace it. Do what you were destined to do. The world is this elaborate system, and each one of us gets to play a part. And it's not something we have to guess about; it's imprinted on us, it's in our genes. Just look within.

It’s very easy to see Nissa in the first paragraph: even though she is a warrior out of necessity, she too craves peace and acceptance and this is revealed in one of her favorite hobbies: meditating. Nissa’s animist powers (more on that here) let her reach her consciousness into nature itself so that she can just exist among the wonders of life. Take note of this gorgeous passage near the end of “Renewal,” the last story of the Kaladesh block:

There were rivers in the air; they carried her like a mote of pollen. Great hearts were pounding in the deeps of the sky, singing slow symphonies of joy. Wordless, they expressed the sun breaking over the edge of clouds; the sharpness of stars over frosted peaks; the awareness of a new life growing within, nestled and patient, waiting for its first breath of radiance. She drifted bodiless among the singers, listening. Back and forth they called, echoing across cloud and current, composing shared dreams of weightlessness, rain, and memory. An eye the size of a house blinked. Radiant curiosity washed over her, like the return of sunlight from beyond the edge of all things. There is something new in our sky, it sang in language of sensation and vibrance; quickened heartbeats and quivering muscle; caught breath and a hundred shades of blue. How wonderful there should be a thing we don't yet know.

Nissa is an expert at recognizing “what is right in front of you,” though due to her connection to nature, “right in front of you” could mean just about anywhere on the plane itself. 

To cycle back to Rosewater’s statement, however, it’s important to take consideration of the fact that a green character does not just treat the wonders of the natural world as a conduit for inner peace, they also believe that the “secret to a happy life is to recognize the role you were born into and then embrace it. Do what you were destined to do.” What does Nissa believe the role she was born into is? What drives her throughout much of Magic’s narrative?

To put it simply, Nissa believes that she is the champion of nature itself, the chosen one of Zendikar’s worldsoul. Whenever she planeswalks to a new world, she adopts the worldsoul of the plane as her own; the first thing she usually does when touching down on new earth is to attempt to connect with the soul of the plane. Throughout whichever story arc she takes part in, she usually comes to see herself as the voice of that particular world and acts as its champion as well.

Let’s take a look at the second Innistrad block, for example. Even though her role in this story is quite small, this template still applies. Jace, after unraveling the mystery of what was happening on Innistrad, goes back to Zendikar to fetch the rest of the Gatewatch to help stop the rise of Emrakul. As she planeswalks to the battlefield, the “hill rumbled slightly, the only herald of Nissa's arrival. She frowned as she knelt down, placing her palm against the ground. ‘The mana here is dark. Twisted. It's in the soil, the trees...Emrakul did some of this, but’…‘This is your first time to Innistrad, right? “Dark and twisted” is kind of a regular feature,’ Jace continued.” 

Presumably at some point later on in the story, on the flavor text on the card Splendid Reclamation, Nissa says “No matter how much a plane has suffered, there is a way to restore it." Of course, this line appears nowhere in the story, but there has always been a conflict between what has been written in Magic fiction versus what is printed on the cards. Furthermore, it’s possible that this card was a bottom-up design with the mechanics designed first and Nissa pasted on later since there wasn’t another “green character who cares about lands” present during the battle against Emrakul. Either way, Nissa comes across as a character who sees herself as the champion of nature.

Nearly all other stories Nissa takes part in give her a similar arc. In "Amonkhet," she is the first to identify just how sick and distorted the world had become under Bolas’s influence, and after a trial with the ibis god Kefnet, she ends up believing that she set herself up as a rival to Bolas, able to manipulate the leylines and the gods attached to them just as efficiently as the dragon. During :War of the Spark," in a move that would earn her the disgust of the Selesnya guild, she animates Vito-Ghazi, the home of Ravnica’s worldsoul Mat'Selesnya, in order to fight against Bolas and the zombified gods. In "Zendikar Rising," Nissa’s journey takes front and center, with her conflict with Nahiri ending with Nissa as the one true savior and liberator of Zendikar. Her brief stint during the "Brothers' War" side stories end with Nissa swearing an oath to Gaea, the worldsoul of Dominaria, to personally destroy the Phyrexians herself, no matter the cost. 

Even while she was a Phyrexian during “All Will Be One” and “March of the Machine” and her mind not her own, Nissa follows a similar arc, though a twisted variation: after her capture and transformation, Nissa becomes the voice of Phyrexia, as the card All Will Be One showcases, proclaiming the plane’s glory and, through manipulating Realmbreaker (likely the single largest and most powerful living thing in existence at the time), sending “Phyrexian perfection coursing across the Multiverse.”

You can certainly see Nissa’s confidence in her station as the champion of worldsouls multiverse-wide in her cards: “Nissa, Voice of Zendikar,” “Nissa, Who Shakes the World,” “Nissa, Ascended Animist,” etc. All of these designs showcase Nissa’s might as a master of land magic. Loyalty abilities on these cards almost always animate a land into a creature that can then fight alongside her. The most powerful variation of this ability was on “Nissa, Who Shakes the World”:

On a narrative level, however, what these abilities showcase is that Nissa during this era saw herself as less a friend to nature than a master of it.

Fast forward to the aftermath of the Phyrexian invasion and Nissa is in a much different place mentally, emotionally, and even physically. As Nissa struggles to (literally) bury the physical remnants of what the Phyrexians did to her body, she feels an immense sense of loss that stems from more than just guilt. Fong describes it this way:

[Nissa] felt cut off, lost in the Multiverse with no voice calling her home. Maybe no plane would hear her ever again. They'd all lost their sparks, but only Nissa still wanted to planeswalk. Even if her friends seemed to be moving on without her, she still cared about their happiness. So not wanting to bring down the spirits of their celebration, she excused herself.

I recall seeing a few half-hearted takes on social media after this story was released expressing frustration that Nissa spent so much time in this narrative grappling with the harm that was done to her rather than acknowledging guilt for the harm she inadvertently did to others. First of all, she clearly does feel guilt for the harm Norn wrought through her:

[Her] copper skeleton is covered in mangled spikes, and those spikes are covered in the dried blood of her friends. She rubs one, and dark residue flakes off on her fingertips. She wonders whose blood it was. Maybe Koth? Maybe Wrenn? Maybe Chandra? Chandra. She had hurt Chandra, almost killed her.

Secondly, exploring Nissa as a green character shows us that Nissa has lived her life believing firmly that she was alive for a purpose: to be the voice of nature and act as its most ardent champion. However, now worldsouls won’t speak to her and her magic barely works at all. Her spirituality that drives her and her magical might that allows her to act in service of that spirituality have been unceremoniously ripped away from her. Everything Nissa has ever believed about herself has come dramatically (and traumatically) crashing down.

Nissa is a character whose entire system of beliefs has now been obliterated by her experiences, and as mentioned in the previous sections, she believes it was because her original mistake was in seeking her identity in her relationships with people rather than with her relationship with nature.

I asked at the end of part one, what’s left for Nissa except to turn back to nature and attempt to find herself again? Perhaps, however, a more apt question to ask is what’s left for Nissa at all? Yes, she and Chandra are (mostly) on the same page about their feelings for one another and yes, she is alive and physically healthy (though weakened and scarred), but notice that even if Nissa despairs about what she has lost, she shows little desire to go “back” to nature. Even though she believes with absolute certainty that “the planes have rejected her,” she stays true to her duty as one of the stronger warriors left among the surviving Mirrans; when faced with decision to either explore the brand new omenpath or to help the survivors, Fong writes, “as much as Nissa loathes to abandon the portal, she knows Koth is right. As much as the war took from her, others have lost even more. They need to help first.”

Though separated by over two-hundred years and in different genres altogether, what Nissa is going through reminds me of what Wordsworth writes in “Tintern Abbey”:

I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, Wherever nature led: more like a man Flying from something that he dreads, than one Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then (The coarser pleasures of my boyish days And their glad animal movements all gone by) To me was all in all.—I cannot paint What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.—That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more.

You see, Wordsworth — like Nissa, like me, and probably like you at some point in your life — found himself in the late 1700’s grieving a deep sense of loss as everything he believed in came crashing down around him. Spellbound by the fervor of Revolution-era France, he lived on the continent for years and had a child with a woman he fell in love with there, but France’s tense political relations with his home country and the Revolution descending into the Reign of Terror forced him to return to Britain. Witnessing what he saw as his utopian beliefs plummet to irredeemable violence utterly broke him (on a personal note, I likely have a different view than Wordsworth on the merits of putting aristocrats to the guillotine, but that’s another essay entirely), and — like Nissa, like most of us — had to rebuild himself from the ground up.

What a relatable human story, right? As someone who is closer to forty than he is thirty, I have stumbled upon this crossroads multiple times in my life. Years ago, it involved disentangling myself from my evangelical upbringing and accepting the fact that, though my parents and (just to give them the benefit of the doubt) many of the religious adults who helped raise me had my best intentions in mind, instructing an impressionable, vulnerable, and anxious child that deep down in the center of his being he is evil and deserves eternal torment for the crime of being born was pretty fucked up. It took years of therapy, medication, and daily affirmations to finally feel good about myself. More recently, as alluded to, going through a tough breakup, wrapping up a master’s degree, and beginning the process of changing careers all within the span of roughly two years left me scrambling in my pursuit to create a new self to be a better fit for my new circumstances.

What choices did I make at this crossroads? What about Nissa or Wordsworth?

Part III:

The answer to that question is that the three of us (Nissa, Wordsworth, and I) all came to similar conclusions. This answer is two-fold, and I hope you’re not expecting some life-altering nugget of wisdom here, because — true to the heart of a green mage — the first lesson we learned is, quite simply, the art of acceptance: acceptance of the world that is, not the world that was or the future world our anxiety creates in our mind. Rosewater writes,

Green wants acceptance.

The other colors are all focused on how they'd change the world to make it better. Green is the one color that doesn't want to change the world, because green is convinced that the world already got everything right. 

There is, of course, something to be said for improving your circumstances — especially if the environment around you is toxic — and the relentless ambition to mold your life into one you are happy with, but in Nissa’s case, what she needed most was to accept that she was living in a different world than was previously. Bereft of the planeswalker spark that gave her a sense of purpose and traumatized by remembering what she did when her body and mind were being puppeted by the Phyrexians, Nissa finally comes to understand and acknowledge her new place in her new world. 

Early on in Fong’s “She Who Breaks the World,” Nissa attempts to connect her soul to the leylines of Zhalfir, but instead of basking in the orchestra of the planes, the music is drowned in all of the other songs that have influenced her, her tune “muffled by dozens of new, alien voices she recognizes and despises: the Eldrazi, Bolas, and finally, loudest, Phyrexia.” This leads to her belief that was discussed previously that her original sin was embracing human connection instead of remaining the voice of Zendikar’s worldsoul. 

However, at the climax of the story, Nissa shares this struggle with Chandra when the two of them are trying to fight their way out of an impossible situation. A wild, out-of-control storm elemental was threatening the Mirran survivors of the Phyrexian invasion, and Nissa and Chandra were defending the populace against it. However, the two of them are not working well together, and the elemental manages to capitalize on their poor tactics and absorbs copious amounts of steam arising from a burnt baobab tree to become a colossal being whose head caresses the sky. After they get trapped in a hole with no way out, Chandra suggests a plan of attack reminiscent of the channel-fireball combo the two of them used to destroy Ulamog and Kozilek all the way back in “Oath of the Gatewatch,” and Nissa finally admits to Chandra that her magic no longer works and expresses her deep anxieties about why: “‘it's like my voice isn't my own,’” she admits. “‘Like it belongs to Phyrexia instead, like everything I've ever connected to is drowning me out.’”

Chandra, however, does not see it that way. Choosing, for once, to think before she talks (a skill she no doubt learned from her years around Nissa), eventually concludes “‘you know … you have good connections, too.’” She continues:

‘It's true—you did bad things while they had you. But everyone you've connected with over the years with the Gatewatch, we're just happy you're still here. With us.’ Chandra sets fire to a chunk of moist dirt that was about to fall on Nissa, turning it into a soft rain of ash. ‘With me.’ For the first time since she awoke in Zhalfir, Nissa smiles. Chandra, sweet Chandra, even if she doesn't realize it, has always understood and explained emotions better than Nissa ever could. Chandra continues, ‘Your connections aren't drowning your voice, Nissa. They're changing it into something new, maybe something even more powerful. Infinite voices, infinite possibilities, right?’

What Nissa needed was not to perform some kind dramatic penance or to reject society for asceticism once again but to simply accept that the world around her had changed, that she had changed. This fact is hammered home by the next section: agreeing to try connecting to Zhalfir’s worldsoul again, 

Nissa closes her eyes. She retreats inward and listens for her inner voice. It's hard, much harder than before, but Chandra is dutifully helping her concentrate, blasting the falling rock away before it can reach her. Nissa is greeted by ringing deep in her ears, but she refuses to be deterred. With her connections in mind, she picks the static apart into unique melodies, the individual songs she picked up from all around the Multiverse. She arranges them, harmonizes them, and this time, when she calls to Zhalfir, her voice is amplified in chorus. She offers an apology. The plane answers. It too was cut off from everything it knew, from the connections it had made. It, too, was scarred by Phyrexia and is growing into something new. It forgives her, and Nissa can finally forgive herself. Magic floods her flesh, her blood, her bone. She hears Chandra laugh, delighted by their success.

It’s only through accepting that her life now is different from what is used to be, through confessing that her priorities had changed, through acknowledging that presence of others in her life had made her stronger, and most importantly, through forgiving herself for what’s she did when her mind wasn’t her own that Nissa is able to reconnect to the source of her magic and her joy. 

Nissa learns to reinterpret her world in a new way. This can be seen in mechanical elements as well. Most of Nissa’s planeswalker cards have her manipulating lands, either by animating them into creatures to be controlled or by fetching them from the library. Nissa, Resurgent Animist, however - the first time she has been printed as a creature since the flip-walkers of 2015 - does not do any of those things. The text on this card reads:

Landfall — Whenever a land enters the battlefield under your control, add one mana of any color. Then if this is the second time this ability has resolved this turn, reveal cards from the top of your library until you reveal an Elf or Elemental card. Put that card into your hand and the rest on the bottom of your library in a random order.

The act of playing a land during the narrative of a game of Magic is the act of a planeswalker establishing a mana bond with a certain place in the multiverse. ‘Mana bond’ is a term almost never used in Magic fiction anymore, but as far as I know, it has not been retconned either. Even if not explicitly stated, there are nods to the act of creating mana bonds throughout the tie-in fiction. Look at this section from “Nissa’s Origin: Home,” for example:

As they picked their way deeper into the marshland, Nissa formed a connection with it. She saw the beauty in the moss-laden trees, felt the magic in the mists that rose up from the brackish waters, and swayed to the song of the swarms of lion flies that circled them. She never would have believed a bog had so much to offer.

In the narrative of a game, this paragraph would simply read “Nissa plays a swamp.” Explicit or not, establishing a mana bond with a particular piece of geography means that the planeswalker can, among other things, draw mana from that place no matter where in the multiverse they are. This is why, flavorfully, a player can play Ravnica shock lands alongside Tarkir fetch lands: in the narrative of a game, your planeswalker avatar has gone to these places and forged a bond with those pieces of land.

To cycle back to the card, however, instead of manipulating the land itself, having Nissa, Resurgent Animist alongside the player allows them to, firstly, hypercharge their link to the lands they play, giving the player extra mana for the act of forming connections with lands. Secondly, the player forming connections with as many lands as possible in a single turn (two in this case) allows Nissa to discover other creatures to fight alongside them. Instead of being the champion of all nature, Nissa now fights alongside nature as an ally rather than a general. This makes it all the more fitting that according to the “Aftermath Set Design” article published last year, the original name for this card during the design process was “Nissa, Friend to Nature.”

The journey Nissa goes on lets her reinterpret herself from champion to friend, but celebrating things others consider dark and reinterpreting the world in a way to showcase its beauty was close to the heart of many Romantic Poets as well. In “To Autumn,” John Keats celebrates the season of change, a season so often characterized as a time of preparation and vigilance for the coming winter. Keats writes,

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?    Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,— While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,    And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn    Among the river sallows, borne aloft       Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies

Keats argues that we should not characterize an entire season through the lens of humanity. Instead of pining for spring, we should live in the moment and appreciate what fall offers us. Similarly, Nissa learns to appreciate the current, sparkless season of her life with Chandra instead pining for the life that was.

Keats again argues this in “Ode to a Nightingale”; a creature poets often infuse with sadness is only that way, he argues, because of how it is interpreted:

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!          No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard          In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path          Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,                 She stood in tears amid the alien corn

 “Thou wast not born for death,” Keats writes, meaning that the nightingale is not infused with sadness by nature, but only because that’s the emotion humans have assigned to it. Nissa too learns to stop infusing her world with despair by labeling herself as powerless, damaged, and guilty, instead choosing to enjoy the moment she is in.

It is through accepting that age and experience has changed how he views the world that Wordsworth also is able to move forward. Instead of treating nature as his “all in all,” he writes,

For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.—And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man

Instead of nature being the only thing in his life, nature is now simply one of the important things in his life, a feeling too that Nissa wrestles with. Instead of hearing only the song of the leylines, the worldsoul’s tune is now just one of many melodies she sings.

Acceptance is a song I too have been singing. As a staunch leftist, living in Central Texas is not particularly suited to me, and I have left here once before. Swearing never to move back, I moved away in the 2010’s for a relationship with a woman that ended up failing some years later. Financially desperate, broken emotionally, in the middle of a graduate degree, and not having anywhere else to go, I moved back to Waco to live cheaply, wrap up my online library science degree, and re-constitute my support network. It was not easy reacclimating to life here. Though I love the people I know in the area, I felt then and still feel now haunted by the ghosts of old memories, all of which had become flavored by loss. After I finished my degree in mid-2023, it did not get much better; even though I’d become ambitious and committed to looking for work elsewhere, the job market for librarians kept me here (entry-salary positions asking for five years of experience and all that). Note that for as much as change scares me, I had dared to face those fears and dared to dream only for it to come to nothing - not an uncommon story these days, I’m afraid.

Now, however, I’m working at the public library in Temple, Texas (close enough to Waco to commute) and settled myself down for the time being. Composing a new rhythm for my life has drastically helped heal the damage that almost three years of rejection, chaos, instability, depression, and anxiety wreaked on me, but that journey began, I think, with acceptance. I’m not currently where I want to end up, but despite what my anxiety and self-doubt tell me, that’s okay. I had to accept that this is where I am at in my life right now, confess that my ambitious priorities were probably going to be achieved at a much slower rate than I had hoped, acknowledge that people in my life made me stronger, and most importantly, forgive myself for the many mistakes I made over the past three years. Only then was I able to truly move forward. 

The second lesson we all learned was to embrace connection with people in our lives rather than reject it. In Nissa’s case, as previously alluded to, part of the process of accepting where she is at in life involved understanding that becoming part of the Gatewatch pursuing romance with Chandra had made her better and happier than she had been before. Once that hurdle was crossed, Nissa was able to come to terms with just how different Chandra is from Nissa in how she thinks, feels, and loves. Chandra tells Nissa:

I realized I can't just burn through any relationship I care about. Love leaves room for the other person to be who they are. I have to make room for you, too. I want to." "Like fire needs oxygen . . ." Nissa asks her final question. "You have room for someone who can't planeswalk?" "Yes. I'll make it. I will falter, I will be tempted, but I will make it. Fire's going to burn, no matter what you do, but you can shape it if you try. And I want to try. For you." Nissa thinks for a moment. Finally, she nods. "I can handle that."

Later on, Nissa describes the omenpath she ran into earlier:

“I think I can still hear Zendikar out there, strange and distorted, but possibly still out there. I could just be imagining it completely, but I think I would risk that unknown to see home again." Chandra nods firmly. "And I'll be walking right alongside you." Every Planeswalker can go anywhere they want, but Nissa recognizes Chandra's need to roam runs deeper than that. It's part of who she is, and part of what Nissa loves. So Nissa offers, "Maybe, after that, I wouldn't mind seeing more. As long as it's with you." Chandra breaks into a wide smile. "Let me be your torch, then.”

Compromise is an important part of any relationship, and through embracing change in her life rather than running from it, Nissa is finally able to compromise with Chandra in a way that should fulfill both them - something Nissa has clearly wanted since at least the Kaladesh arc (though I would argue these feelings began long before that). Pursuing connection and intimacy with Chandra at this crossroads allows Nissa to blossom into a much happier and more self-actualized character than she has been in Magic fiction so far. Once, back in “Renewal,” the last story of the “Aether Revolt” arc, Nissa - deep in meditation and basking in her connection with the worldsoul of Kaladesh - watches the birth of a new aetherborn and ponders:

How could she tell this new life to laugh and weep without reservation or regret; to sing to the stars and waters, or to nothing at all; to love unreserved and unguarded; to treasure every moment with those beloved; to forgive any regretted trespass; to dance when moved to; to savor long silences in warm company; to greet each dawn, each face with the thought, this will be an adventure; to be brave, and kind, and trusting, and... ...like Chandra.

Years later, Nissa has finally learned to be more like Chandra, and she is better for it.

For his part, Wordsworth famously had a great relationship with his sister Dorothy, and part of the change he embraces throughout “Tintern Abbey” involves reclaiming himself through her:

…in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear, dear Sister! 

Earlier in the poem, Wordsworth lamented that he could not “paint / What then I was.” In this passage, Wordsworth finally finds himself again through communion with his oldest and dearest friend.

As for me, I’m in a happy romantic relationship again after years of trying to rebuild myself. Additionally I've made friends with people I wanted to meet, and I’ve managed to carve out a small niche for myself in my own small corner of the world: I realized last summer that I thought about Magic: The Gathering in a much different way than many of my local friends do. As a game that occupies much of my social life and possibly more of my internal life, I searched for an outlet for these thoughts, and that led me here, where I’ve made good friends and joined an online community that I once looked at from afar. If you’re reading this, thanks! I’m happy to be here and to know you.

Conclusion

Relearning ourselves, redefining ourselves, and finding a place for ourselves is a journey most of us must embark, whether of our own volition or not. I’m certainly not a master of this process, so I’d like to leave you with the following thoughts:

One of the more, well, magical things about Magic The Gathering’s tie-in fiction is the fact that you could put just about any character from across the entire history of the game into a random number (character?) generator and the character that gets selected will be near and dear to some Magic player’s heart. In a game as wide and varied as Magic, there is a massive range of experiences portrayed throughout the stories that someone will personally identify with. I’ve seen communities big and small form around fans’ shared love of popular characters like Liliana, Vraska, Oko, and the entire concept of Phyrexians, but also less commonly known characters like Kallist Rhoka (who doesn’t even have a card) and less commonly liked characters (if we’re using loud people on the internet as a gauge) like Jace, Nahiri, and yes, even Nissa.

The biggest lesson I learned from my time as an English major (whether my professors meant for me to learn that is another thing entirely) was that there is no such thing as good and bad literature; there is just literature. Magic story has varied in quality drastically over the years, but one of my main reasons for writing this piece is to emphasize that Magic fiction has a place in the world of literature. It’s not likely to be studied by English students decades from now, but that says nothing about its ability to delight, upset, soothe, and even instruct those of us who enjoy it.

As for myself, I’m eternally grateful to writers who have picked up the task of writing Nissa over the years, because even when she is written poorly (ignoring that one instance where her characterization was butchered beyond recognition), I see much of myself reflected in her deep sense of conviction, in her struggle to express true feelings to people she loves, in her obsessive loyalty to those she lets into her life, in her adoration of the natural world, and even in her love of music. More specifically, I’m especially grateful to Fong and the story team behind “March of the Machine: The Aftermath” for giving me exactly the right Nissa story for exactly the right time in my life.

Whichever omenpath you personally are crossing through, I hope that you find what you need to come out of the other side of it happy, healthy, and ready for the next adventure.

References

Davidson, Nik. (2016). Battle of Thraben. 

Fong, Grace P. (2023). She Who Breaks the World. 

Frye, Northrop. (1968). A Study of English Romanticism.

Humphreys, Dave. (2023). Leading March of the Machine: The Aftermath Set Design 

Keats, John. (1819). Ode to a Nightingale.

Keats, John. (1820). To Autumn.

Kreines, Kimberly J. (2015). Nissa's Origin: Home.

Magic Creative Team. (2017). Renewal. 

Rivera, K. Arsenault. (2023). March of the Machine | Episode 1: Triumph of the Fleshless. 

Rosewater, Mark. (2015). It's Not Easy Being Green Revisited. 

Wordsworth, William. (1798). Lines Written (or Composed) a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour, July 13, 1798. 

Wordsworth, William. (1807). Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood. 

[solcorvidae]

Modern Witcher AU: My Headcanons (part 1??)

This is exclusively for my own Trucker AU/my fic called Hypothermic on AO3! I have other headcanons for other Modern AU's, but I just love them so much and there are so many things that I cannot possibly include into my fic but still want to share (at least right away/in a way that is plot-relevant). -- also, these are in no particular order.

Jaskier lives in a big city and his parents have a ton of money. They are very big on being a "proper and well mannered" family which Jaskier has had a lot of trouble with. He loves his family and they love him, but they butt heads pretty frequently over small and avoidable things.

Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert are not related to one another by blood at all. The boys met in foster care, Geralt becoming attached to Eskel very quickly, and Eskel bonding with both Geralt and Lambert. He felt responsible for the others and they became inseparable. They bounced around together and were between a lot of different homes/placements before they wound up with Vesemir. Eventually the boys officially asked if Vesemir would be their dad, spurring the legal adoption process into motion.

It took a long time for Eskel to trust Vesemir fully, isolating himself almost consistently for months after he had settled in. He trusted him enough to feel safe and relatively at home, but not enough to come out of his shell. He ate an overwhelming amount of dinners alone in their bedroom, not with the rest of the household.

Geralt was teased for his white hair as a kid and decided that he wanted to dye it dark brown like Eskel's when he was in middle school. It turned out horribly and the dye did not take due to the colour/texture. Eskel helped him and felt bad for ruining the poor kids hair even though there was no way to really know (since they didn't do a test strip).

Lambert often forgets momentarily that his family is not by blood due to his young age when they arrived at Vesemir's house for the first time.

Eskel doesn't have any baby pictures that are still intact/in his possession

Eskel and Geralt both had grey eyes as little kids

Eskel's eyes slowly changed from grey to bright green as he got older. Geralt kept his grey eyes for a lot longer than most kids do before they changed.

Lambert had red hair as a little kid and slowly grew out of it. It eventually shifted to an extremely dark brown with red undertones.

Lambert kept his hair somewhat long as a kid/through highschool and cut it short after graduation. He got Eskel and Geralt to help and they did it in their shared bathroom together. It went shockingly well but the bathroom was a disaster. There are candid photos of the whole affair somewhere on Vesemir’s camera.

Geralt on the other hand, had short hair until the Hair Dye IncidentTM and then refused to touch the length after that, letting it grow long. He only went to get haircuts for maintenance and trimming off split ends, never to cut off any significant length. He still has long hair to this day.

Geralt cannot stand facial hair. He will scratch his face raw if he cannot get rid of it fast enough (or if he can’t use a razor that gives him a close enough shave). Vesemir gets Geralt a straight razor for his 17th birthday to help with this. Geralt is determined to keep this razor forever.

Geralt was the youngest out of all of them to go into the family business and start trucking. He knew since he was young that he wanted to work for his father and was determined to do so as soon as he possibly could. He took Data Management and Business 101 in highschool so he could be of help with bookkeeping despite being notably awful with advanced math. He completed driving school and got his full licence at 19 and started work only a few months later.

Unlike Geralt, Eskel was insanely good at advanced maths and took Advanced Calculus and upper year Physics courses for fun.

Lambert lived in the weight room and shop classes in highschool. Everyone tended to write him off as not being “book smart” but he did super well in the sciences—particularly biology. He took it all the way through until graduation, making honour roll several times.

Geralt is crazy sentimental. Jaskier gifts him trinkets, photos, pop can tabs, flowers... you name it and he keeps every single one. He has a charm pinned to his felt cowboy hat; a gift from Jaskier. It’s on the left side not only because it’s proper,but it is also because it’s closer to the wearer's heart. He has polaroids in his sun visor and in his wallet. He lets Jaskier start a pin collection on the ceiling of his work truck, only complaining minimally about the puncture holes they’ll leave behind.

Geralt and his brothers bar off several weeks each winter where they won't take any contracts so they can come home for the holidays. They spend every Christmas and New Years together in their childhood home.

Vesemir has banned the boys from betting cash. Anything under 5 dollars is negotiable, but he enforces the rule with anything of higher value. Too many fights had occurred over the years due to (intentional?) miscommunication and brotherly stubbornness.

[Modern AU Headcanon Masterpost]

[drakeanddice]

I’ve enjoyed my time with Starfield, but so far my favorite bit was my early roleplaying choice to steadfastly fail to comprehend the very idea of a Heatleech. Every NPC who mentions them always has the “What’s a heatleech?” dialogue option and I make it a point to always ask.

Space trucker tries to commiserate with me on how annoying heatleeches are? “What’s a heatleech?”

Ship services tries to upsell me on routine maintenance, telling me that there might be heatleeches? “What’s a heatleech?”

Pirate threatens to feed me to heatleeches? “What’s a heatleech?”

Inexplicably briefing the President of Space America about the shadowy conspiracy surrounding heatleeches that threatens to destabilize the settled systems? “What’s a heatleech?”

At the end of a multi hour series of side-quests with a companion that was FOISTED upon me in clear contravention of my choice to take the tier 4 Isolation perk, making me criminally underpowered for one of the tougher fights in the game so far. She turns and says, “Now we know the shocking truth behind the heatleeches…”

“Wait, what’s a heatleech?”

“What—really? Okay…”

That moment made the game for me. My carefully cultivated ignorance about heatleeches, hard bitten and ironic, delivered with a deadpan squint of incomprehension.

For the sake of roleplaying a character who is tied to and smart about the world, I never asked for clarification about the factions, the history, the movers and shakers, any of the things that my character would doubtless know, and I know it’s cost me something to not have the setting spoonfed to me. But I’ll be damned if I don’t ask what a heatleech is.

[niqhtlord01]

SCP 4271: The Wandering Sign

Classification: Keter ----------------------------

Description: SCP 4271 appears as a five meter tall by four meter wide standard issue highway sign found along highways within the borders of the North American Continent. The body of the sign itself appears to be bright sky blue in color, and when text is present on the sign it appears in standard white.

SCP 4271 has been dubbed the “Wandering Sign” for good reason as the sign appears to materialize at random the continent in Canada, the United States of America, and Mexico. The length of time it remains in one area has not been determined as of yet but there are speculations that it remains in an area until its target has met a gruesome demise before dematerializing and moving to a new location.

-----------------------

SCP Effects:

SCP 4271 will often target isolated travelers, in groups of no more than fifteen individuals excluding animals, and appear alongside a roadway the group is traveling on.

Once in place the sign will begin arranging letters on the driver facing side that are intended to lure or attract the most influential member of the targeted group. Ex: Incident 9-3-4B: The driver of a out of a Michigan State basketball team saw 4271 and reported it had directions to a local trucker stop with a restroom as the driver was on the verge of loss of bladder control.

Incident 7-4-9A: The recovered hood camera footage for one Stanley Marshall showed the 4271 displaying directions to a local strip club.

It is unclear as of yet if the sign itself exerts any form of control over the targets to force them to the locations it describes; but given the nature of the signs a prominent theory is that 4271 has some form of mental or telepathic capacity which allows the sign to present itself as something intensely desirable to the target at the time making them follow the directions of their own free will.

Once the target begins following the directions they will be led further away from the main roads to an isolated location. The sign continues to jump ahead of the target vehicle giving further directions to this location until finally the targeted group is far enough away.

Upon reaching the location the vehicle of the group is disabled by as of yet unknown means and the group inside are attacked by similarly unknown entities.

Footage recovered from previously mentioned incident 7-4-9A briefly shows Stanley Marshall attempting to flee the area in front of his car before being swallowed by a large shadow substance. Screams could be heard in the recording as well as signs of an intense struggle underneath the shadow substance. It is assumed that whatever it is the substance does not immediately kill the targets but slowly devours them. After a minute of these struggles they ceased and the shadow slithered out of range of the headlights leaving no trace of Stanley Marshall.

There does appear to be a limit on how many targets this shadow entity can attack at one time meaning escape is not impossible.

At the time of the attack during incident 9-3-4B only fifteen people were awake at the time the driver encountered the sign when in reality there were twenty seven individuals onboard the bus; many of whom were sleeping.

When the attack did take place in the isolated area only the fifteen individuals who had been awake at the time of encountering 4271 were targeted while the remainder twelve were able to fleet the area. All survivors were later rounded up by operative teams, interrogated, and then given a mild amnesiac and instructed their fellow classmates were killed during a bus crash along the interstate.

------------------------------- Containment Attempts:

As of yet no containment measures have proven successful.

The nature of how or why the SCP picks its targets is not known. It was originally thought that there were multiple instances of SCP 4271 roaming the continent, but upon examination of the dates and timings of each attack it was found that no two attacks took place on the same day.

The sign appears only so long as the targeted victims remain alive before vanishing to another remote portion of the country. By the time rumors or remains have been discovered the SCP has already moved on to new targets.

While in some rare instances SCP 4271 will lead victims towards another SCP it does not show any signs of hostility towards them; and in some instances going so far as to relinquish their hunted to the secondary SCP.

This has presented a level of cooperation not seen between two separate SCP’s out in the wild. ------------------------------------

Warning:

Because of the inability to contain the SCP it is recommended that all high ranking researchers and or government officials travel via flight whenever possible. SCP 4271 as of yet has not been encountered via flying modes of transportation while the shortest distance it has been researched prior is little under two blocks. 

[jensens-ackles]

You: Tish didn’t like Priestly until he changed the way he looked. Me, an intellectual: Ten Inch Hero is a film that deals with hiding your true self behind your looks/a computer screen/a fake babysitters job/a maneater persona because you would rather people see you for the way they pre-judge you rather than be yourself and get hurt. Prisetly uses his piercings/tattoos/crazy hair etc. to keep people away because he needs his looks his weird personality. Tish uses her assets and sex appeal because that’s the way she is used to guys treating her. When Priestly finally works up the courage to ask Tish out and changes his look it isn’t for Tish, it’s because he wants to be himself and Tish asking him his real name (which she does at an earlier point in the film) is because she wants to really know him and why she also reciprocates and tells him her name also, something she had never told anyone before even though we see how close she is with the other girls who work in the shop, she chooses to share this information with Priestly because she can see what he is doing for her. Priestly’s new look at the end is much more drastic but there is also a more subtle change to Tish that people don’t seem to notice as much - the high collar dress which is more modest and softer hair style, stepping back from the sexy and revealing looks she has worn throughout the movie.

I direct you now to this interview with Betsy Morris, the writer of Ten Inch Hero - its a great and interesting read but this section sums up the ending and why I get so frustrated at people saying that Tish didn’t like Priestly until he changed his looks when in fact changing his look to show the true Priestly/Boaz is how he will know if Tish truly likes him for who is genuinely is -

Boaz, well he is one strange guy. He realizes early on that people are going to judge him for his looks. He goes into a club, and girls are all over him, but the moment he starts talking about his conspiracies and God knows what else, the girls are making excuses and running for the door. So he learns that women think he’s strange. And his response to this is “Screw you, I’ll show you strange.” And that’s when Priestly was born. In some ways, the ’hawk and the shirts and everything else are his armor. The girls in clubs leave him alone now, and he’s fine in his isolated world. At no point does Tish say “Hey, I’d jump your bones if it wasn’t for all the piercings.” We see his affection for her, long before she does. He’s hiding it well. She only just realizes that maybe he’s interested when he stomps out of the shop after Jen stands up Fuzzy. And again, when he tackles Tad. That’s why, when they’re at Trucker’s, she looks right at him and says “Nice guys don’t ask me out.” So, she’s sending the signals, but he’s not asking. Why? Because Priestly feels he has to stand before her (as Zo says in the last scene), naked and needy. Priestly doesn’t have to change for Tish; Priestly chose to expose what he considers his weakness to her (which also explains his outrage over Jen’s treatment of Fuzzy). In other words, he knows that Tish likes Priestly, but he has to know that she can love Boaz before he can risk it.

[artisticdivasworld]

The Road to Mental Well-Being: A Trucker's Guide to Healthier Minds

Today, let’s talk about a topic that’s often overlooked but very important: mental health. Now, I get it—when you’re on the road, hustling from one destination to another, mental health might not be the first thing on your mind. But trust me, taking care of your mental well-being is not just important for you personally, but it’s also crucial for the success of your business. Let’s break it…

[steampunkforever]

Alien: Romulus was a blast. Not only was it a solid entry into the Alien Franchise, but it was also a solid piece of sci-fi filmmaking completely independent of the films that came before. Which is to say that it was one of the best science fiction films I've seen all year, and I watched all 3 Alien "prequels" in the space of 12 hours yesterday.

Alien: Romulus already had a tricky tightrope to walk being a sequel following up two Scott Alien films, it's actually a timeskip movie, taking place in between Alien and Aliens, which poses its own problems, chief among them being "the shock of seeing multiple xenomorphs in Aliens is significantly downplayed if you were to watch these according to the series chronology and not numbered by release." Yet it pulls it off.

Where the previous two films were distinct departures from the Alien "feel" (Prometheus' being welcome, Covenant's less so) of steam and vents and grime and tennis shoes, Romulus brings us back, and does so in style. We get the cassette futurism back, we get the CRTs and clacky buttons. It feels like a cinematic DLC for something like Alien: Isolation and this is a very good thing.

More importantly, the story was strong. A girl and her synth board a derelict space station in search of components that will get them offworld and away from their Weyland Utani (a company it feels like I've done consulting for) corporate mining world. It's got heart, it's got fun antigrav physics, and they bring back the pulse rifle instead of those stupid looking M4 variants the colonists in covenant were using.

Something I've felt about every Alien movie is that each film takes a unique look at how different slices of society survive the Xenomorph (and by extension, the real monster of the film: HR Reps). The first film is about space truckers, the second about the military, the third about factory monks watching over a distant prison. In the prequels we have archeologists and space colonists. In resurrection it's Winona Ryder apparently but I haven't seen that one. The point remains, no matter the quality the films always have an interesting angle they approach the Xenomorphs from, and I appreciate that.

Plus, if "intergalactic scrappers fighting for survival on a doomed space station" doesn't sell you as a premise, I'm not sure what will. Go watch Alien: Romulus

[macadam]

Do you think transformers have allergies

[cont. ask] Cause like they can’t all be made of the same stuff right the dudes that fly gotta be made of smth lighter than the truckers so like. Starscream with a silicone allergy canon ig

I’m trying to wrap my mind around how robot allergies would work. Like,, would it be certain types of metals that they can’t use as parts/repair? Would it be similar to blood types, in that their body rejects it? Because as far as I know (not far at all. Two inches in front of my face) they don’t have anything similar to our immune system? Granted, there is that episode in tfp where unicron has those fighter drones, but that is such an isolated part of the immune system as a whole that I can’t bring myself to call it an immune system. Are they antibodies? Or just a form of fighter cells?

Anyways since they don’t really breathe, or ingest anything other than energon, I don’t know what would be classified as a foreign object enough for them to have a problem. Maybe more of a skin allergy, like a rejection to certain types of paint?

[witchywithwhiskey]

Do you think how strict trucker ari would be when (or if) she got pregnant their baby?

oooof honestly? i haven't really thought about it. i don't think either trucker Ari or reader are ready for that (and wouldn't be for a very long time), so if they did get pregnant, they'd agree she'd get an abortion. but i don't think it'd come to that, i think Ari would make sure reader's always on birth control.

this story is very much about two people who are pretty traumatized meeting and miraculously finding someone who perfectly meets their emotional needs. Ari has isolated himself by design to avoid getting hurt, whereas reader is constantly latching on to all the wrong people looking for connection and getting hurt when it's never the right person. Ari wants someone who will break down his walls and stay, reader wants someone who will let her break down their walls and make a place for herself in their life.

their relationship is incredibly healing for both of them, but i think it'll be a long time before they're ready to bring someone else into their little family—if ever. i could see them being happy with just each other for the rest of their lives.

well, maybe they'd get a dog.

trucker king masterlist

[skeletonbirdart]

Okay so you know how gasoline expires? What if there was a book about a motorbiker in a zombie apocalypse who tries to help out as much as they can before their gas stops working. Like they're running against the clock to deliver food and kickstart the start of a new civilization in one of the last working vehicles.

This motorbike was their prized possession before, so they start with a few others who also have working stuff. Slowly they all break down, and they are left fighting the clock, scrounging up the last few dregs of viable gasoline.

Being a motorbiker, they wear leather and a full face helmet. So zombies can't bite them properly. Maybe some of the others are like truckers wearing denim or old military fatigues and these isolated doomsday peppers realise what the apocalypse really needs is community. Hateful truckers realising it doesn't matter the details of your hero, it matters that they saved you.

The climax is them transporting the last few surviving doctors and biologists over to the next city that has a strain of fungus that's resistant (or something like that, maybe sentimental instead of world saving like reuniting a mother and her children).

The motorbike is starting to make some concerning sounds as the gasoline slowly starts to not be viable and hurt the engine. They do a sickass jump over a horde of zombies, using the abandoned truck of one of the other people from the beginning that was also helping. The motorbike makes it, but with a horrible CLUNK the engine finally gives. The people make it in, and there's a scene of them slowly running a hand over their broken machine. Before everything, fixing it had been their only hobby and bikers their only community.

The biker looks out on the little spark of civilization, and finally takes of their helmet. All we see is their smile. Cut to the motorbike resting against a statue, covered in flowers. The old statue plaque has a second one beneath. Zooming in it reads: "The motorbike that drove a new world"

Credits

[mcwexlerscigarette]

I think it's because 'demons' are just something spousal abusers hide behind.

Like, I watched The Conjuring, which is supposed to be based on a true story, because it has Vera Farmiga and I love her.

And I heard all about what was happening in it, a guy who worked as long distance trucker and wasn't home very much had a wife who already had a history of 'a medical condition that caused unexplained bruise like skin lesions.'

Then he moved his wife and kids into complete isolation in the countryside away from all their support systems and suddenly the whole situation escalates 100-fold and the wife's injured worse and more frequently and the kids start 'acting weird' (because they're being abused, not possessed).

Actually that makes a lot of sense and it's so fucking terrible. And the fact that they never really got help for their abuse and got treatment for ghosts and demons or whatever that didn't really exist or even need solving...... it's horrible. I think I remember one Conjuring movie where apparently a guy murdered someone while possessed. Like, he was a real life murderer who had a victim. Obviously he still got charged because no one in their right mind is gonna believe a fucking demon made him do it but I think he got a much lesser sentence. And Ed and Loraine Warren advocated for the guy. So really, they're awful, disgusting people. And these are just the things we know of. There's really no telling what else. Also this isn't me bashing the characters Ed and Loraine. I know they're just characters in a highly exaggerated story/movie.