#their locomotion is hard to figure out too ;(
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Steppe heavy cavalry but on a chicken horse 👀
She's here to conquer your heart and steal your girl~
#mongol#mongolish#how fantastic#caffe art#art#doodle#ink#tone#armor#chicken horse#mongol empire#I ended up getting lots of different things but I don't have the time to do enough research#that's why she's mongol-esque#swords#knights#medieval#I tried to make her very cool#but frankly nobody looks super cool on a chicken#their locomotion is hard to figure out too ;(
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how about a Blake belladonna x female reader.
blake is not a very affectionate person which is normal considering what Adam put her through, but Reader is but doesn't overstep her boundaries and let's thing go on her terms( doesn't say I love youand doesn't initiate physical contact in order to not make her uncomfy).
Until one day Blake catches reader saying "I love Blake belladonna" while she is sleeping so the lil neko goes and snuggles herself in R's hoodie( R wakes up and ask if everything is ok) and falls asleep listening to her heartbeat
I'm sorry it's very specific but I can't get that scenario out of my head.
thanks for reading this whole shit and for your time have a good day!!!
Bound(aries)
Blake Belladonna x She/Her Faunus Reader
A/N: It’s so hard to attempt to write slow burn without writing everything that happens in between. I managed to compress this quite a bit despite how long it still is. Improvements! Warning for near drowning of the reader character and the drowning of Adam. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 3,795
When Blake severed the train cars and by extension, her relationship Adam, (Y/n) stood by her side, she almost rested her hand atop Blake’s shoulder, but thought better of it. They watched Adam’s portion of the train slow to a stop, watched his figure shrink as the distance between them grew. The locomotive whistled ominously as he finally vanished from sight, too far behind to see.
“You did the right thing.” (Y/n) quietly assured.
Blake shook her head and fixed gambol shroud onto her back. She then slunk into the train car, head hung low.
(Y/n) bit her lip but did not follow. She felt it best to leave Blake alone for now. She sat down, watching her legs swing above the tracks as the wind whipped at her bare face. She tapped her nails against the hard material of her White Fang mask, once worn with pride.
She inhaled deeply. The White Fang was not an organization to be proud of anymore. But if Blake had decided to stay… (Y/n) didn’t think she would have been able to bring herself to leave on her own. She brushed the mask off of her lap and with a clatter, it was lost amongst the iron and gravel.
This was the start of a new chapter. She only hoped she and Blake would not grow to regret their choice. The way Adam just stood there and let the distance grow… somehow they would meet again and the thought gave (Y/n) goosebumps.
They never would have guessed where that decision and all that followed would take them. When Beacon fell, they had felt awful. Adam had been there, he stabbed Blake, slashed (Y/n)’s face, cut off Yang’s arm… Blake felt that as long as she was there, she’d be putting them all in danger, so she ran.
(Y/n) and Yang had been distraught, but where Yang was resigned, (Y/n) was determined to go looking for Blake. She tried to entice Yang to come along, but she wouldn’t budge. (Y/n) promised she would let her know when she found Blake as soon as she could because although Yang acted indifferent, she knew she was just as worried about Blake as she was.
(Y/n)’s search lead her to Menagerie and to a smoldering mansion. The smoke obscured the dawn, but through the commotion (Y/n) still found Blake in the center of it all, calling her fellow Faunus to action.
“Blake!” She called out, pushing through the crowd.
Blake scanned the crowd, quickly leaping into the sea of people when she saw (Y/n) struggling to get through. She reached her hand out and pulled her forward with enough force to knock their bodies into each other with force.
“(Y/n)!” Blake hugged her, she hugged her! “I can’t believe you’re here. I missed you.”
“I- I missed you too.” (Y/n) stammered, clumsily returning the embrace though her mind had suddenly grown fuzzy with the contact. She never would have guessed Blake would be so happy to see her. They were friends sure, but she had never seen Blake be so affectionate.
“Your tail,” Blake giggled, “it’s gone into overdrive.”
(Y/n) yelped in embarrassment and pressed her tail flat against her backside, making Blake laugh a little louder. (Y/n) couldn’t say she had ever heard Blake laugh like that before either. The Blake before her now was so different from the Blake who had left Adam and the White Fang behind her. She wasn’t covering her ears anymore. She was healing, budding like a new sapling in a scorched forest. She was breathtaking.
“What, (Y/n)’s here? No way! Wish you could’ve gotten here a little sooner. It was a crazy night.”
Sun swooped in, slinging a heavy arm over (Y/n)’s shoulders.
“You decided to stalk Blake too?” He grinned.
“I wasn’t stalking!” (Y/n) sputtered, horrified, “I was only— I just wanted to— I was only tracking her scent! (Because that sounds so much better) Just to make sure she’s okay! Because she’s my friend! And it looks like everything’s cool so I guess I’ll just head back to Vale—“
“Don’t go.” Blake spoke hurriedly, taking (Y/n)’s hand before she could slip away, “I need you.”
She needs me?! Me?!
“Huuuh…?” (Y/n) could only feel the fire in her blood skyrocket to new temperatures only found in the center of the planet. Sun snorted at her and she gathered enough functioning brain cells to elbow him in the stomach.
“We need to go to Mistral. The White Fang, Adam, they’re going to attack Haven Academy. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but will you help us?”
(Y/n) wished that Blake knew she would never need to ask. Ever since she had tentatively whispered to her that she wanted to leave the White Fang and even before that she had (Y/n) in her pocket. (Y/n) would follow her to the end of Remnant as long as she wanted her.
“Just what have you gotten yourself into?” (Y/n) scoffed, then smirked, “I’m in.”
“Aw yeah!” Sun whooped, “Faunus dream team right here. Ilia, you’re welcome too. Even if you did stab and electrocute the crap outta me.”
“Ilia?” (Y/n) spun around, finding the other Faunus standing an awkward distance away.
“Uh, long time no see?” Ilia coughed, absently rubbing the back of her neck.
(Y/n) decided she wholly missed way too much while she and Blake had been apart.
The journey to Mistral was long, plenty of time to catch everyone up on what had gone down since the fall of Beacon. (Y/n) was surprised how easy it was to fall back into place with Blake, but it felt so different. Blake was different. She seemed more confident, more surprisingly she was kind of goofy. It was cute.
(Y/n) couldn’t help but feel a little jealous seeing her with Sun. Maybe he had brought that out of her. And things were awkward with Ilia too, but that was nothing new. Both of them had been very aware of each other’s crushes on Blake when they were both still in the White Fang. (Y/n) had tried to avoid being alone with her during their trek to Mistral, but she did catch her alone eventually.
“Congratulations, I guess.”
“…For what exactly?”
“Oh come on,” Ilia groaned, “don’t play dumb with me. I’m trying to bury the hatchet. Start fresh?”
“That sounds fine, great even, but what are you congratulating me for? I honestly have no idea.”
“You and Blake, idiot. Obviously. The girl we literally fought over behind her back? The girl you got to run away with?” She reminded, each word growing more noticeably bitter until she took a deep breath in, than a long exhale.
“Oh, well, we aren’t together-together. We haven’t been, and probably won’t be, anything other than friends… not saying you should try shooting your shot or anything though.” (Y/n) warned, making Ilia roll her eyes.
“Are you kidding? Did you see the way she ran to you when she saw you? You should have heard how she talked about you when we were fighting too. When it’s all said and done, she trusted you enough to tell you she wanted out of the White Fang over me… and she was probably right to.” A regretful look washed over Ilia’s face and (Y/n) put a hand on her back.
“Look at where you are now. You’re making a difference for the better, like what the White Fang was meant to do. You’re a good person, Ilia.”
Ilia’s lips twitched upward for a moment. She didn’t quite believe (Y/n), but she appreciated the sentiment from her old rival. “Thanks.”
“Everything okay over here?” Blake asked, jogging up from the slower ranks.
Both (Y/n) and Ilia flinched as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Blake was somewhat aware of their rivalry but not the full extent of it.
“Yeah, just, um, catching up.” (Y/n) shrugged. Ilia nodded.
Blake bit the inside of her cheek, eyes darting between the two of them almost as if she was suspicious. Then as casually as she could, she eased herself between them and began a new subject.
When they finally made it to Haven, they dominated. (Y/n) had been scared to see Adam again, but Blake faced him with a courage that inspired (Y/n) to give her all as well. Together, they had him retreating into the woods, utterly defeated.
When they burst into the academy, they were in awe at all the familiar faces they saw fighting along. (Y/n) stood back, smiling fondly as team RWBY reconnected. She did feel the absence of her own team acutely. She could tell Sun did too. They were all in Vacuo last she heard.
“Told you I’d find her.” She chuckled when Yang forcefully pulled her down into the hug.
“I’ll know better than to doubt your nose,” Yang smiled tiredly.
Apparently the reason for the fall of Beacon and the attack at Haven was a lot bigger than anything (Y/n) or Blake could have imagined. Salem was no joke, and though it was an easy choice for Blake to continue on with her team, Sun already decided he was going to link back up with his team and the reminder that (Y/n) had a team of her own that she had separated from made her feel more than a little guilty.
Blake had told her it would be okay for her to go to Vacuo while they all began their journey to Atlas, but of course (Y/n) couldn’t agree to that. First and foremost her loyalties always laid with Blake, even before she had a team. Not to mention how dangerous this mission to defeat Salem would be… her team would understand. They knew how she felt about Blake, and this was a mission to save all of Remnant after all.
So she stayed. Everyone was happy to have her aboard, none more so than Blake. The further north they traveled, the colder and more difficult their journey became. They hit a wall with Argus and when trying to get through peacefully failed, they decided they would need to get more creative.
For (Y/n)’s part in the mission, she and Blake would disable the communications tower. Yang had drove them as close to the tower as she could without being noticed and (Y/n) only grew more anxious the closer they got.
Blake noticed and took her hand. She stopped walking and asked her what was wrong, her ears titled downward.
“I don’t know what it is… something just doesn’t smell right. I’ve smelled it a couple times before, but this is the strongest it’s been and I swear it’s getting stronger.”
“What is it?”
(Y/n) shook her head, unsure. “Something bad. We have to take care of the tower quickly. The sooner we get back to Yang, the better.”
When they got to the tower, they saw that a worse trouble than them had gotten their first. The tower watchmen were scattered around the tower, unresponsive, and that was when Adam decided to make himself known.
“I have waited so long for you to be alone Blake, but you can’t seem to be without each other for even a minute, can you?” He growled, baring his teeth at (Y/n).
“Adam! Why can’t you just leave us alone!” Blake yelled.
“You used to be such a good soldier (Y/n), a confidant. Then you just had to go and ruin everything, didn’t you? You manipulated Blake into leaving me so you could have her all to yourself.” He tightened his stance, hand on his sword, “I’m going to make the scar I left you with at Beacon look like a mark of beauty by the time I’m done with you.”
“She didn’t manipulate me into leaving!” Blake readied herself for Adam’s attack, “You did that all on your own, Adam!”
“So I just wasn’t good enough for you.”
“You know it’s so much more than that.”
Adam released an angry scream and lunged forward, starting the battle in earnest. The way he was moving was erratic and reckless. After Beacon and Haven and now ambushing them here, it was clear that he would never stop hunting. Try as Blake might, this cycle could only end one way.
“Blake, watch out!”
Adam had Blake backed up dangerously close to a cliff overlooking a magnificent waterfall. Blake’s back foot skidded off the ledge, but before she could fall completely, (Y/n) took her hand and swung her back up onto the ledge, placing herself into the precarious position Blake had been in moments before. Adam tried to take advantage and swung his sword with the intent to cleave (Y/n) in two no doubt, but (Y/n) gripped his wrist in one hand and his jacket in the other, taking him down with her into the frigid waters below. The last thing she saw before the water enveloped her was Blake on the cliff above, hand outstretched.
Below the water, Adam did not let up. They punched and kicked and struggled against each other. Their oxygen was quickly running out and Adam seemed more interested in making sure they both drowned than saving his own skin.
(Y/n) kicked him hard in the stomach trying to wrench herself free from his clutches. She heard a bubbling, gurgling sound and saw Adam begin to sink though his arms clawed at the water above him in a futile attempt to breach the surface. (Y/n) didn’t take the time to watch him sink any lower, her own air supply had reached was reaching its limits.
No matter how hard she kicked, the shimmering surface never seemed to get any closer. Dots began to speckle her vision and her lungs burned hollow. The light above her was suddenly blocked out and then she knew nothing.
(Y/n) came to with a round of violent coughs, expelling a concerning amount of water and bile. Hands grasped at her and hot breath fanned against her lips, gradually the muffled voices became clearer and (Y/n) opened her eyes, only finding gold before being enveloped in wet, inky black hair.
“Blake, give her room to breathe.”
(Y/n) blinked when the harshness of the sun met her full force. When she was able to keep her eyes open, she saw Blake and Yang hovering over her.
“Oh, (Y/n), can you hear me? I’ve got you, you’ll be okay.” Blake sobbed, cradling (Y/n)’s head in her hands.
“Blake—“ (Y/n) fell under a coughing spell and Blake shushed her.
“Just focus on breathing. Blake and I are going to carry you to Bumblebee so we can get to the ship. Just hang on.” Yang told her, already scooping her up on one side while Blake worked on the other.
They balanced (Y/n) on the motorcycle and Yang slipped in front of her while Blake took the back. Yang revved the engine and Blake held onto (Y/n) tight as they zoomed through the forest, catching up to the stolen airship with all the their friends on board.
It took a some time before (Y/n) could fully get her wits about her, but when she did they were well on their way to Atlas. She and Blake were wrapped up in a big blanket, her clothes still uncomfortably wet. She shivered, and one of Blake’s ears flicked against her cheek. Blake lifted her head from (Y/n)’s shoulder to get a better look at her, sleepily checking her all over.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“Yeah,” (Y/n) cleared her throat, trying not to think about how close Blake had been willing to sit with her yet again, “I’m fine, just a little uncomfortable with these wet clothes.”
“Me too. Unfortunately this plane is disappointingly bare of resources. Thankfully, Ruby and Qrow lended us their cloaks. It helps a little at least.”
(Y/n) looked down at the blankets and sure enough, they were a familiar deep red, one a little rattier than the other.
“Thanks guys.”
“No problem!” Ruby smiled, Qrow gave a loose thumbs up without looking away from the plane’s course.
“Blake, how did you get so soaked?” (Y/n) asked, her brain still felt waterlogged, so she had a hard time following all that had gone down.
“Really?” Weiss shook her head in disbelief.
Yang snorted, “Who do you think pulled you out? By the time I found you guys, Blake was already doing chest compressions.”
“Ah.” The chill from the water still enveloped her, but just beneath it, a fire began to rage.
Blake had pulled her out of the water and she— and she—
“Sorry about that!” She laughed awkwardly, putting a little breathing room between her and Blake, “Well, um, thanks for uh, not letting me die!”
Blake blinked twice in rapid succession, a bit stunned by (Y/n)’s sudden liveliness. Then she smiled warmly, scooting closer to (Y/n) once more. The poor girl could just about faint.
“Of course I wouldn’t let you die, are you kidding? Stop moving around so much, I’m freezing.”
“Sorry!”
“Not gonna do you much good in those wet clothes,” Maria laughed, “If you really want to warm up, you’re gonna have to take those off.”
A mix of laughter and groans rose from the group but (Y/n) was already too far gone to hear it. Turns out, she ended up fainting after all.
***
Once they were all set up in Atlas, (Y/n) worked really hard to allow Blake plenty of personal space. She worried a lot about Blake’s comfort and how her own feelings might affect Blake should she ever learn of them and judging by the not so subtle teasing of literally everyone, it might be sooner rather than later.
(Y/n) worried constantly about boundaries, making sure to show Blake she respected her autonomy. She wanted to leave no doubt that even if Blake finally put two and two together, they would still be friends at the very least. Adam had treated her like a possession who owed him everything. If Blake thought for even a second that (Y/n) was taking advantage of her budding affectionate side, then she would punt herself off of this floating rock of a kingdom posthaste.
But that was what made it so hard! Since when had Blake become so openly affectionate, and with (Y/n) specifically?
It seemed like every moment they could possibly be together, they were. Blake always had a hold of (Y/n)’s sleeve between her fingers or sleepily lean against her during morning briefings. (Y/n) often found herself wondering how she hadn’t failed a mission yet given she frequently flew by the seat of her pants because of how often Blake distracted her.
It was becoming harder and harder to maintain the invisible bubble (Y/n) tried to keep between them. It was hard to see Blake’s ears droop when she tried to reclaim that distance. It was becoming harder not to let an, ‘Be safe, I love you.’ slip off of her tongue when they were sent on separate missions. What was a girl to do?
A tired groan rumbled passed (Y/n)’s lips as she put on the soft and warm academy issued hoodie that quickly became a favorite after long days. It wasn’t late by any means, most of her friends were still out doing their own tasks, but being as exhausted as (Y/n) was, she slipped right into her bed. Mornings started hellishly early anyway, it was smart to get in as much sleep as possible. And without anybody else around, sleep came easily.
Blake entered the barracks just a little less than an hour later. Having heard that (Y/n) got back a little earlier, she hoped to ask her if she wanted to go to Robin’s election party with her the next night… as a date.
She was super nervous, and a party wasn’t exactly her first choice for a romantic date, but if she backed out now, who knows when the next opportunity would come along.
At first she was disappointed to see that (Y/n) was already asleep, but she got over it fairly quickly. (Y/n) must have been exhausted to have gone to bed so early, she needed her rest, and truthfully, Blake could use a couple extra hours too.
Blake got ready for bed and pulled back the covers, pausing when she heard (Y/n) begin to mumble. She chuckled quietly, it had been a long time since she heard (Y/n) talk in her sleep. Sometimes when they were doing overnight missions in the white Fang, Blake would hear (Y/n) say all manner of things when it was Blake’s turn to keep watch.
Blake crept over to (Y/n)’s bed and carefully sat near the foot of the mattress so she could better listen to whatever silly things she might say.
She seemed to be having a passionate discussion with someone. Some of the things she said were mundane, other random, and some things were completely unintelligible, but one thing made Blake’s heart nearly leap out of her chest.
“Because I’m in love with her. I’m in love with Blake Belladonna.” (Y/n) snoozed, but the passion with which she spoke couldn’t have been more clear if she had been wide awake. “Her hugs feel like sunshine and she’s more beautiful than when the moon and stars reflects off of tranquil waters. ‘Gotta be good to her and leave her be so I don’t cause any waves.”
Blake blushed, touched by those sleepy words, but also a bit saddened by them. If she understood that last mumbled line correctly, and if (Y/n)‘s waking thoughts were being accurately worded, then she was worried about getting too close to Blake and making her uncomfortable.
However, that’s not how Blake saw it at all. She loved (Y/n), without her, who knows where she would be right now. She wanted nothing more than for them to be closer, so closer she would get if (Y/n) felt like she couldn’t be the one to make the first move.
Blake joined the other Faunus in the same bed. The lack of room suited her just fine since she wanted to snuggle as close as she could. (Y/n) wiggled, subconsciously confused by the sudden lack of room, she squinted against the dark, sleepily asking what was going on.
“It’s just me.” Blake whispered. “Are you okay with this?”
“Yeah, are you okay though? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Blake smiled, “everything is just fine.”
“M’kay,” (Y/n) yawned, wrapping an arm around Blake to pull her in closer, “good night.”
“Good night, sleep well. We have a lot to talk about in the morning.”
But (Y/n) was already sleeping again.
Blake shook her head fondly then closed her eyes, focusing on the thrum of (Y/n)’s heart to lull herself to sleep.
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@taznovembercelebration joking or serious
[[this is the same universe as this ficlet !!]]
Lup sits on the floor of her kitchen. Her hands shake as she holds her head and she feels a terrible, acrid creeping in the back of her throat.
She has to keep working. She has to keep moving. Move or die, like a shark.
Of course, for sharks, their locomotion only impacts their survival and not the survival of the love of their life.
Nope. No, Lup, can't get morbid.
"You fucking idiot," she croaks out to nobody but herself.
Sharks are often caught in the siren call of death; when a whale dies, sharks flank the corpse and rip it to shreds.
Lup feels called to the study—Barry’s study, to be more precise—though it's not for feeding time. Rather, she almost feels the need to protect him. What she can of him, at least.
Pulling herself up off the floor, she feels like all the warmth has been sucked from the apartment.
She tries to think back to all he's told her about situations like this, the theoretical ones he'd studied in school. He had always gushed about some great strides they were making in the field and—
Stop. Stop.
No speaking about him in past tense.
Because it's fine. He will be fine.
She racks her brain trying to remember everything he's gushed about to her, about these ressurectionists he's mentioned.
What she needs is a task. This is just the task to take her mind off of this brief hiccup that'll end up being fine. Completely fine.
She goes down the hallway and into the study; bookshelves still sagging under the weight of every book she and Barry have ever read. Everything from celebrity self-help books they've gotten during gift exchanges to old textbooks from university courses to scary looking leather-bound tomes.
The room still smells like ozone. A large fractal shape spiderwebs all over the ceiling.
She crouches beside the bookshelf closest to the door and begins scanning the spines for something that could help.
Out of the corner of her eye, over by Barry’s desk, she sees a little pulse of red. She figures it's just his cantankerous computer monitor that's still desperately holding onto its last threads of life. She has a thick mystery novel in her hands, searching for other papers jammed inside, a habit Barry’s had as long as Lup has known him, when she sees the pulse again.
She sets the book down and goes to investigate. Couldn't hurt to check his computer anyway. There's a thin layer of what feels like soot on the keyboard. She tries to brush some of it away though it seems like a futile task. Her efforts do wind up waking the monitor, however.
She squints at the screen, white and green and red and blue text on a black background. The words swim across the screen, forum posts on here look all but incomprehensible. She pulls out the desk chair that's more exposed foam than fake leather and sits down, intent on cracking this.
--------
"You're joking," Taako says from his place on Lup’s couch. She's called the whole family over for an emergency meeting with no elaboration.
"Dead serious," she says firmly, hands clasped together behind her back.
"Lup, listen. It's not that we don't believe you it's just that—" Lucretia begins softly.
"What I'm hearing is that you don't believe me."
"Grief can be a hard thing. Sometimes we're all just looking for that wish fulfillment," Davenport offers.
Lups shakes her head firmly. "No. Listen, I'm explaining it about as well as I can. I've spent the better part of today parsing through this freaky forum. It's real."
"Even if it is real, it's illegal as shit," Merle says with a shrug.
"So are 90% of the plants in your greenhouse," Magnus retorts. He looks at Lup and nods. "I believe you."
Taako rolls his eyes. "I mean obviously I do, too. We all do. Or we will, I guess."
"What's the plan?" Lucretia asks.
Lup brings her hands in front of her and holds up a small jar with what looks like a clump of fishing line in it. "This is Barry. We have to take a road trip to the Sword Coast to meet up with this weird guy from the internet so he can rebind Barry’s soul, whip him up a body, and then we can bring him back."
Davenport nods. "Someone grab me a map. Let's plan this route."
#rip (reeses in pieces)#reese writes#taznc#taz november celebration#i should write more of this#resurrection roadtrip#blupjeans
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Monday, July 10, 2023
And we're off like a herd of turtles!
I woke up feeling like I haven't slept.
I gave a hand-crocheted baby blanket to a friend who's infant daughter is Deaf. They're taking the adjustment to their lives like troopers; the little one is going to be raised in Deaf culture rather than treated like she has a disability.
We had the grandgoblin for a while. She's creeping and still figuring out how to locomote. The way she uses her upper body and drags her lower half makes her look like a seal pup.
Have I really not opened the document for my main WIP since last Sunday?!
My son brought home a six-week-old female black kitten. My husband is a Black Cat Whisperer; they glom onto him and he adores them. Right now we're facing the mortality of our old lady cat. I'm hoping my husband keeps the kitten so the transition is easier for everyone. He's objecting. I don't see him putting the kitten down, though. He even went to the bathroom with her on his shoulder. If he refuses, my son might be able to keep her himself. If not that, then we'll have to give her back to her original biped. But it's worth a try.
My son was showing the kitten to the baby/baby to the kitten. The baby lunged, grabbed the kitten, and stuffed it's whole damn head into her mouth! I'm going straight to hell for the quip I made and my son nearly pissed his pants laughing so hard.
Being tired is pretty normal. I hate it but it's a daily thing. Being sleepy but unable to either sleep or perk up is another matter!
Kitten update: My son is keeping her. We've got her over night because they don't have a litterbox or anything for her. My idea is to put her in the Pack-n-Play for the night since the baby seldom wants to be in it and I can disinfect it later.
Nothing but grandgoblin-sitting got done today. That being the most important thing, though, I can't be too mad about it. I do think I'll take a nibble of an edible and go to bed early.
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wip wednesday
how the fuck is it wednesday again ahhhhsd;gjwdgvc
anywayyy snippet where naruto discovers he has a thing for sasuke in glasses. maybe I'll finish it for kinktober?
nsfw-ish under the cut
///
The door slams, which is never a particularly good sign. Sasuke is naturally silent unless he wants his irritation known. Naruto waits, and moments later Sasuke stomps into the kitchen, huffing and puffing like one of those newfangled locomotives Shikamaru’s been nerding out over.
“Hey,” Naruto says delicately. He stands from where he’d been sitting at the table and approaches the other man as one might a feral animal, having learned over the years to figure out if Sasuke needs to talk things out with words or fists first before unnecessarily riling him up. “Did something happen?”
“Sakura,” Sasuke bites out, whipping off his cloak with a flourish and tossing it over a chair. It’s kind of hot when he does that, Naruto has to admit.
“You had a checkup today, right? What’d she say?”
“Apparently, I need…” Sasuke’s eyes squeeze shut and for a moment, Naruto starts to panic, his mind listing off every terrible illness Sasuke might possibly have. Before he can voice any of his worries, though, Sasuke finally finishes his sentence with “glasses.”
Naruto blinks. “Glasses?”
“It seems Eternal Mangekyo will stop me from going blind, but it won’t stop me from being unable to read a scroll two feet away before I’m thirty-five.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. It’s not like you’re losing an arm or something.”
Sasuke just glares, forever unimpressed by Naruto’s arm-related jokes. Sighing, Naruto walks over to envelop him in a hug and immediately feels some of the tension in Sasuke’s shoulders release. “C’mon, it’ll be okay. Do you have to wear them all the time?”
“Just for reading and missions for now,” Sasuke grumbles, reaching between them into one of his pockets. He holds up a basic pair of black frames. “They had these in my prescription already, but I can order different ones.”
“Let’s see, then!” Naruto smiles encouragingly, nudging Sasuke’s hand when he hesitates. Finally, he shoves them on, his face turning pink as his mismatched eyes focus on a point past Naruto instead of looking at him directly. He’s so obviously embarrassed and he has absolutely no reason to be because fuck, the glasses are… sexy. Naruto’s a bit stunned by the realization, his own face heating as he takes Sasuke in. They give him a snobby intellectual look that sends Naruto right back to the Academy and all of the years where he snuck admiring glances at Sasuke while hating his cleverness in equal measure.
“What?” Sasuke snaps, finally meeting his gaze.
“Nothing, um.” Naruto coughs. “I just, might have a glasses kink is all.”
Sasuke looks repulsed. “Karin wears glasses.”
“Just on you, obviously!” Naruto flails his arms, cheeks burning even hotter. “You look like you’re going to scold me until I cry and then make me come in my pants.”
Sasuke frowns, but his expression shifts, gradually morphing into something like consideration. “Is that… something you want?”
“Er—” Naruto scratches the back of his head and bites his lip. They’ve never discussed things like this before. Their sex life isn’t boring, exactly, but they never talk or negotiate beforehand, which maybe isn’t ideal but their relationship is hardly a model of healthy communication. “Yes?”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Sasuke is pulling him closer, peering down his nose with the two centimeters of height he has over him. “Tell me more.”
Naruto’s Adam’s apple bobs. “You could maybe… be kind of an asshole—which shouldn’t be too hard, y’know—and then, um, hurt me a little bit?” He winces. “I sorta… want you to step on me.”
“Step on you?”
“My dick. To be precise. With the—the glasses on.”
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Hornby TT:120
I don’t see anybody talking about this here over on Tumblr, so I figure I might as well. As you may or may not know, a number of british model railroad companies have recently started announcing things in TT scale (that is 1:120 scale, 12mm track), first Peco and recently most importantly Hornby, who have announced a full range of about a dozen different locomotives, coaches, freight cars, tracks, buildings and sets.
TT (short for table top) isn’t that well known internationally. While it was developed in the US and briefly existed in the UK in the 1960s, the main place where it thrived and survived was East Germany. Since reunification, the market has grown, but so far it’s been essentially just continental European. To see the british get into this, and with such force, is quite a surprise. For context, I used to model in TT scale back in the 1990s and early 2000s, before I switched over to N because there’s more stuff available there. My father still uses TT, so I still keep an eye on the developments there. So let’s discuss some stuff about these announcements.
Is TT a good scale? I think so, yes. The detailing is better than N scale, and working on trains for any purpose is easier, those are just facts. But at the same time, it’s not as gigantic as H0 gauge (or OO gauge, the british equivalent. Yes, they use the letter O, while continental europe uses the number 0. Don’t think too hard about it).
The decisions they made all seem very reasonable. The most important one is that they’re using 1:120 scale, which matches the 12 mm gauge. That’s actually something new to the british rail market. Both OO and british N gauge actually use trains that are a bit too large for the rail gauge, because back when those were developed, the motors didn’t fit in the smaller british trains otherwise. This is no longer necessary, and it’s good that it’ll disappear here.
This will screw over the existing 3mm modelers. 3mm scale is what the old 1960s british TT was called. It also used 12mm gauge, but a scale of 1 inch to 3 mm, which works out to roughly 1:100. As a result it got the same mismatch of train and track size as OO and british N. There is still a small 3mm community who build basically everything from scratch. The new TT:120, as Peco and Hornby call it, is not going to help them at all, and will probably hurt them as anyone who ever produced anything in 3mm commercially will certainly switch to 1:120.
That sucks for them, but 1:120 scale is still absolutely the right choice, both because it’s just more correct, and because it allows for proper international railway modelling. Hornby’s german branch Arnold already sells a TT gauge ferry car (a dedicated freight car for ferry service between the UK and continental Europe before the Channel Tunnel), and they can just reuse that. While there aren’t a lot of things that work on both sides of the channel, there are some, including modern freight cars, the Eurostar, and the class 66 diesel locomotive which Hornby has already announced.
They are using the modern Tillig TT coupler, which is the right choice. I don’t think there were many other choices anyway. Perhaps a Kadee-style knuckle coupler, which looks better, but doesn’t allow for close-distance coupling of passenger cars because you can’t use it with the special mechanics for that. The modern TT coupler works well, and of course Hornby is already producing them for Arnold anyway.
What does this mean for global TT modellers? Well, a lot of them seem delighted, and I’ve seen a lot of TT modellers in Germany who have preordered a lot of british trains already. In the longer term, having more options is always nice. I know there are always people who want to model the station of Klingenberg-Colmnitz on exactly December 4th, 1986 or something and aren’t interested in anything else, but I also know a lot of people who are happy to have a lot of different colourful trains from all over. Adding to the supply here is great.
What I find funny is that Hornby keeps talking about TT in the US as if that was a thing. There is certainly a small community of enthusiasts and small-scale producers (most of whom seem to sit in Europe anyway), but TT is largely unknown and irrelevant there. I would hope that some US manufacturer sees what Hornby is doing and starts considering the same, but I don’t even know who has the size and economic weight to pull that off. Anyway, for now, my theory is that Hornby keeps mentioning the US origins of TT scale to hide the fact that TT is, beyond any doubt, the most communist rail gauge in existence. I’m barely even joking, this is a clear fact (even though it means absolutely nothing in practice).
The main question for me in this thing is economic. Will that work out for Hornby? I have no clue. I don’t think a lot of british model railroaders are looking to change scales, and Hornby is explicitly trying to target people new to the hobby. That’s interesting, but are there enough of them? Especially considering that the UK’s overall economic position isn’t doing that great, and a lot of people don’t have a lot of disposable income.
I have to give them props for making all the trains relatively cheap, though, that’s really surprising. In the videos I’ve seen they’ve apologised for the prices of some things, but compared to Europe? They’re selling a Pacific steam locomotive like Mallard or similar for about €160, which is between €100-140 less than Tillig charges for a german Pacific. That’s a good price no matter which way you turn.
(An aside: There’s no Thomas the Tank Engine. Personally, I’m very happy about that. I never knew they existed until I was like 14 years old, and given the way they look, I’ve not developed any interest in that franchise since. But clearly this Sonic the Hedgehog of train fans is very popular, so I fear they’ll add this at some point anyway.)
Overall verdict: Very interesting, I don’t see any major missteps, but this is also a very risky business move. It’ll be fascinating to see how this looks five or ten years from now.
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Train Talk Tuesday
Train Talk Tuesday: When I did that post on The Good, The Bad, and The Future of Amtrak, something that I should have mentioned was Amtrak's issues regarding rolling stock, since it's something that has become a bit of a larger issue concerning Amtrak's future plans. It's been bugging me ever since, so for this week I will be discussing some problems Amtrak has been having with rolling stock recently, and I'll discuss what the root of the problem is, along with how to (maybe) fix it.
Keen-eyed readers may recognize that this sounds similar to a much older post I did in the past, and this does touch on what the older post already covered. Normally I don't like rehashing topics for numerous posts, but due to that post being done when I was super burnt out and it being of fairly low quality to what I do now, I figured a revisit of this topic wouldn't hurt too much. I promise, this will not be the norm going forward.
Are we good? Okay then, all aboard the first Train Talk Tuesday post of 2024!
Now let's first get started by discussing what exactly is rolling stock, to get everyone up to speed.
Rolling stock is a term used to refer to the vehicles used on a railroad, for example, passenger cars, freight cars, locomotives, multiple units (both diesel and electric), etc. Basically anything that can run on the railroad falls under the term "rolling stock". Trains are simply different rolling stock connected together. Pretty simple, eh?
So now that we know what rolling stock is, what exactly is going on with Amtrak's rolling stock?
There's two main thorns Amtrak has been suffering from with their new order of rolling stock, being the new Acela trainsets and the new Siemens Charger locomotives.
New Acela
The Acela is a high-speed rail service that runs on the Northeast Corridor between Washington D.C. and Boston, Massachusetts in the United States. I won't get into too much detail as to the history of the Acela for the sake of time but what you need to know is it began revenue service in 2000 and it still continues to run to this day with its original trainset (pictured below), but in 2016 Amtrak gained a loan from the Federal Government to order the next gen Acela trainsets (pictured above).
Unfortunately the new Acela trainsets have been delayed due to numerous defects found during the testing phase, being squarely the fault of Alstom, the company who Amtrak paid to build the new Acela. These delays have pushed back the new Acela from a potential introduction date of 2022 all the way to sometime this year (2024). It's super disappointing to see how Alstom really dropped the ball hard on this trainset, especially since the old sets have been in use for over twenty years at this point, with it being well overdue for an overhaul.
Siemens Chargers
This one is a bit less known compared to the Acela, but it's still worth discussing as it's another example of Amtrak getting hamstrung by delays in rolling stock.
Similar to the Acela, the Siemens Charger locomotives are brand new locomotives built by Siemens to replace the aging GE Genesis locomotives (pictured below) that have been the backbone of Amtrak for decades now.
Unfortunately, the Chargers have been having teething issues for the Midwest services, which have kept the Chargers from being deployed across the country to replace the Genesis. The most notable issue was that in cold temperatures, the Charger would for some reason lose power, which would grind the entire train to a halt. It doesn't take a genius to know why that's a bad thing. (Good video talking about the issues here)
And unfortunately both of these delays have only forced Amtrak to stretch its aging fleet very thin, sometimes causing Amtrak to simply cancel trains due to a lack of available rolling stock. This will only cause more damage to Amtrak's reputation and it will just push people to fly or drive over taking the train.
So what exactly is causing both of these issues?
This is a very hard question to answer, mostly because I have no idea what its like to design rolling stock, but I do think I know the answer, and its because neither Siemens nor Alstom are domestic manufacturers.
Now, that may be a bit confusing, as both Alstom and Siemens have facilities here in the United States, along with companies like Stadler and Kawasaki, but that doesn't change that none of those companies were built up making rolling stock for the United States, and that's the big issue here.
Domestic manufacturers are incredibly important to a country trying to expand rail as domestic manufacturers are usually better at adapting at what will work for a country's rails better than an international manufacturer. There is a catch by this though, which is that said domestic manufacturer can easily go under very quickly if it puts out a lemon due to the hyperfocus on selling rolling stock only for the home country. Countries like Germany with Siemens, France with Alstom, and Switzerland with Stadler have supported their domestic manufacturers even if they make a lemon or two because they know how integral they are to the country as a whole. Unfortunately, this is something the United States didn't get, and as a result the United States lost both Budd Co. and the St. Louis Car Company, the former being the company which built all of Amtrak's current Amfleet coaches. Had Budd remained in operation to this day, I bet that Amtrak would have ordered new rolling stock from them instead, which would have been delivered with less delays due to Budd understanding what the United States is like and adjusting in the process. And this idea of supporting domestic companies isn't foreign at all, the U.S. does this with automobiles, where foreign built cars have tariffs put on them to make customers support domestic companies instead, due to their cheaper price.
So what can Amtrak do now?
Unfortunately, there really isn't much Amtrak can do. The only company left making rolling stock domestically is the Brookville Equipment Corporation, and while it is a good idea to throw lots of money their way to keep them afloat, I don't think Brookville would be able to fill Amtrak's order for new rolling stock, due to how large it is. The only thing Amtrak can reasonably do is continue pressing on with both Alstom and Siemens and have them eventually deliver the new rolling stock. The new rolling stock Amtrak has ordered is going to be a great help for Amtrak, that is something I am sure of, but the delays and the damage it has caused could have likely been avoided had Amtrak sought out a domestic manufacturer instead.
So, conclusion time?
Going forward I hope that both Alstom and Siemens learn from this as to not cause many more delays for Amtrak. The new Amtrak Airo trainsets will be ordered through Siemens, so only time will tell if Siemens learned anything from the debacle with the Chargers. In the coming decades where Amtrak will need a lot more rolling stock to provide more service to Americans across the country, delays in rolling stock like these cannot become the norm. And I hope that sometime in the future the U.S. fosters a proper domestic rolling stock industry to help Amtrak with future orders. Until then, I guess people like you and me will continue to wait for Amtrak's new rolling stock to finish their long crawl to revenue service.
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Nuke This
It is no secret that packaging has become the bane of our existence. Aside from fresh fruits and vegetables at the grocery, nearly everything we purchase has some level of packaging. And that packaging is there to protect the product, preserve freshness, and promote the brand. It is a necessary evil.
The problem, though, is all that trash left behind after we consume the product. Take a look at your local landfill, and you can see what I mean. It is quite literally—and sadly—a growing issue.
There is no lack of talk about sustainability, recycling, and all those noble pursuits. But putting those into practice has proven to be a non-starter at worst, or a lukewarm effort at best. In order to achieve the desired result, which is reducing waste and being environmentally responsible, it is going to take buy-in at all levels, and, I hate to say it, probably some governmental intervention.
Still, there are occasional efforts to effect change. Last summer whilst in Saskatchewan I had occasion to stop by a Starbucks for coffee and a bagel with avocado spread. The knife they included in the bag was made of bamboo, the result of federal legislation there banning certain single-use plastics. I rather liked it, because bamboo knives are not going to snap like plastic ones can.
And then there are straws, which some companies—once again, Starbucks—have vowed to replace with paper versions, not to mention an entire state, as in California. Still, such efforts are often met with snickers and ridicule from those who just aren’t having any of this. They couldn’t be bothered.
But here we are, and now one of the most popular food products of college students and the otherwise budget-challenged is making a major packaging change. Cup Noodles, the familiar serving of ramen in a variety of flavors, is replacing its styrofoam cup with one made of paper. The new cup will also be microwavable.
At this point you are probably thinking: “Whaaaaat? I’ve been microwaving these things for years.”
Yeah, it turns out that microwaving polystyrene, which is the technical name for Styrofoam, the trademarked brand of extruded polystyrene foam, or XPS, should never be microwaved. They can leach nasty chemicals that might cause cancer. You were living dangerously and didn’t even know it.
Reactions have been mixed. Hard-core packaging critics concede that, while this is a step in the right direction, we need to do so much more of this across the board. And then the usual court of cranky naysayers respond with their go-to emoji. You know. The laughing face. Because they really don’t have any words to add to the conversation.
The maker of Cup Noodles reports the change is the result of consumer demand, which may very well be true. Given that current college students are Gen-Zers and highly likely to have adopted an environmental mindset, this is believable.
It’s just that, industry-wide, sustainable food packaging has been very slow to gain traction, and equally slow to be adopted by consumers. Coca-Cola may boldly print “Recycle Me” on its cans, but in the end, it is up to us to do so.
And so it goes. Instead of waiting for companies to get on the sustainability train, we should be driving the locomotive. If we—meaning all of us—cared a little more, companies would respond. When it comes at us from the companies, some folks will feel like they are being forced to change. As we know all too well, change is a hard pill to swallow for many.
Good on Cup Noodles for making this change, and also saving future generations from possible cancer after nuking their dormitory dinner. But the impetus needs to come from us. I just can’t figure out how to convince the folks on the other side of the aisle. Apparently their short-term convenience is more important.
Dr “Feel Free To Microwave That Thought” Gerlich
Audio Blog
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Maridornius
"Or, uh, Mar. Mar like Jar. There's no need for all that fancy-ass 'Maridornius' stuff." The young man waves a hand dismissively at his full name with a soft, almost apologetic chuckle. He's supposed to introduce himself, right? This is the space for it. What is there to say?
"Right, so - Name's Mar. I'm from out of town, doesn't really matter where. I like swimming, hanging by the beach, fishing. I, uh, grew up on a house boat with my mom, so it's all sorta comforting, ya know? Real familiar-like. Now I'm striking it out on my own, off into the big bad world, heh." He taps at the table top with nails that are ever so slightly too long and too sharp, eyes that are a smidgen too bright trailing over the scenery as if this humdrum cafe will offer him any ideas for a conversation that won't lead to him revealing himself. His tongue glides over his teeth behind his lips, a wordless reminder to himself to keep them, and himself, dull. "Guess I like crafts, too? Decorating and stuff. I dunno, guess I'm kinda boring. Let's talk about you some more. What is it you do, again?"
WARNING! KINK CHARACTER! MONSTERFUCKERS WELCOME.
Full F-List profile with much more detailed character info, backstory, and worldbuilding about the different types of merfolk in Mar's world.
Maridornius, or "Mar," as he prefers to be called, is what happens when a deep-sea tentacle monster and a mermaid spend a lust-filled night together. From the waist up, he looks fairly similar to a regular Neaquelian merman (save for the navy blue skin and black scleras), but from the waist down... tentacles. There's really no way around it - he's got a mass of tentacles where a tail would normally be. Such crossbreeds, while extremely rare, aren't unheard of among merpeople, so he lived a rather quiet life beneath the waves. Occasionally, he and his mother would take human forms and visit the shore.
Mar has a narrow build covered in lean muscle without much bulk, a classic swimmer's bod. His human form keeps this smaller appearance with Mar measuring 5'9, pretty close to average, but his streamlined figure makes him seem a bit smaller than he is. He has black, wavy hair and deep olive skin. The one trait that doesn't quite match are his strikingly blue eyes - 'strikingly' in that they almost seem to glow with how vibrant they are. It's not just a mismatch with his features, but with human appearance in general. He tends to dress in somewhat drab clothes, often wearing things that are a few sizes too large and littered with loose threads and holes. If asked, he'll claim it's "just my style," but in reality, it's hard to store clothes in seaside caves without them getting damaged. In his merman form, he has navy blue skin, paler spots on his abdomen and cheeks. His scleras are black, irises the same piercing cyan, and where ears were on his human form, fins take their place. The webbing of these are also cyan. His teeth are more like those of a shark, useful for hunting large fish to bring home for dinner.
As for his tentacles, he has ten thick ones, each about 8 feet long, that taper down from his hips and are the same navy blue as the stripes on his back. These are primarily used for locomotion and provide no pleasure, and are marked with bright cyan rosettes that match his eyes and fins. These spots are bio-luminescent. Hidden under those primary tentacles are about three dozen more breeding tentacles. They're 6.5 feet long when relaxed (though can extend up to 36 feet), the same lightly glowing cyan color as previously mentioned, and vary in thicknesses. Some are only a centimeter, some are up to 2.5 inches thick. Touching these is extremely discouraged unless he agrees beforehand. It would be like slipping your hand into a stranger's pants and giving their dick a tug; not very polite, and is more likely to freak him out than turn him on. He'll let it slide if someone does it without knowing the connotations, but if you already know and you still toy with them, he won't respond well.
Kinks he hits:
-Aphrodisiacs (he secretes them. Fun little gene from his tentacle daddy. Please note that he will never purposely use them on someone without consent. Accidentally, though? It's very likely, and he will be so apologetic).
-Tentacles. Obviously.
-Rough. He doesn't try to be, but those sharp nails and teeth paired with some monstrous tendencies can make things get bruised and bloody.
-Oviposition.
-a lot of things, tbh, but those are the main ones. Check the F-List profile listed above if there's a particular itch you want to scratch
-not a kink, but please not that he's only for mxm RPs. He is very much gay.
Also very much down for sfw RPs!
#oc rp#monster fucker#OC for all sorts of settings. TMA? Supernatural? Anything? Go for it. If thar be monsters then monsters be he.#nsft rp#if I wasn't saving up I'd commission SO MUCH ART OF HIM#kink rp
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The Dangers of Humanizing the entire ATSF Super Chief
Chapter 1
They watched the strange looking man throw mattresses out the door in their general direction. He had counted well, 17 in all. After a bug-eyed pause, Vista Club, the observation car spoke up.
“What happened at the front?”
38L, the lead locomotive during the incident, explained up until the old man’s interaction with the engineer.
“I’m sorry, you think that was some kind of maintenance thing?” said San Pascal, the Baggage/Buffet/Lounge.
“Well it was when those two guys put their mouths together!”
There was chitter chatter among the rolling stock. Eventually they got 502 “Plaza Lamy”, the dome car, to explain.
“That was C-P-R. It’s not relevant right now. Their maintenance, which they usually call medicine, usually takes a very long time. Only the most basic forms of if can be done by most people.”
“So you don’t think it was maintenance?” Said 38L
“It sounds much too fast to be so.”
38L had an idea. To recreate the “Maintenance.” Everyone else was reluctant, since they knew 38L wasn’t exactly the brightest engine in the shed. Eventually they decided to use a sheet of plywood in place of a person/rolling stock. The dramatic destruction of the plywood proved their point. 38B, one of the B-units, was struck hard by the shrapnel.
38B, miffed, stomped his foot. She, and the rest of the train was surprised to see the concrete floor break. Shrapnel went all around, hitting tools, carriages, and the van. A heavily accented
“HEY! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!”
came from the van.
“Sorry. Hey wait a second.”
“What?”
“How strong are we?”
After a brief discussion, they concluded that ordinary people wouldn’t be able to lift the van. The van agreed. He found himself touching the ceiling. After a reminder that the guy knocked out their driver out cold at best, they discussed the implications of this. 38A, The other B-unit, was rather excited.
“We can do anything now!”
“How come?”
“We’re the strongest people in the world! What are they gonna do?”
San Pascal, having heard of a few too many war films lately, bluntly said
“Rocket Launcher.”
They all agreed they must behave themselves atleast somewhat. So, what now?
“Who is this guy? He dresses like pedestrianism is still relevant, and he the gall to hurt our driver! I’m gonna go find out more.” qouth 38A, the other B unit. (Sorry about the confusing name.) Regal Corps agreed, wishing to preform righteous violence.
Plaza Lamy stopped the two from leaving immediately, and spoke.
“We must figure out if we can all move on our own before we go running off.”
38L was puzzled
“You’re moving on your own right now, right?”
“Yes, but we’ve never been farther than a car apart from eachother. We simply don’t know how far apart we from eachother we can go.”
A brief and mildly awkward experiment outside proved they could come apart safely.
38A and Regal corps promptly went into the building.
The house was luxuriously conservative, even by 1950s standards. The exception was that every room was twice the size they normally would be. The chairs were large but the duo concluded they were indeed made for normal humans. Then they met The Manservant.
He was simultaneously a man of muscle, and one who looked like a single blow would do him in forever. Regal Corps stepped in front. The Manservant told them to go back to the garage. This was ineffective.
The Manservant grabbed Regal Corps. Regal Corps quickly found out they were not strong enough to get free.
38A quickly grabbed The Manservant’s leg and pulled him to the floor. After prying Regal Corps free, 38A put herself in front. The Manservant tried the same trick on 38A. This proved unsuccessful. Instead 38A carried The Manservant to the garage.
They were surprised to see the Manservant above 38A. After talking, they agreed to hold The Manservant in place. Now free to explore, 38A went snooping around. She found a basement. The mood changed from Victorian era house to a only vaguely out of date shed.
The walls were covered, not only in tools but inventions too. 38A then looked to her other side to see a tender. Having shrunk dramatically compared to yesterday, she couldn’t quite place a date on it. Fortunately, coming to the front laid the rough era out in front of her.
38A was greeted by the coarsest voice she’d ever heard.
“Hey. How’d you get here?”
“I… it’s a weird story.”
“Well yea. Everyone here has a weird story. Tell me yours.”
“I waaaaas a diesel locomotive a hour ago?”
This was a bit strange even for this workshop.
“Damn. Hackmeld’s ahead of schedule.”
“Hackmeld?”
“The only name I could ever come up with for the crook that built me. Though around here all you’ll find is Employee 711”
“Ok who is this guy?”
“Look down, will ya?”
38A was very surprised to see a 2-2-2-2 wheel arrangement.
“that’s…”
“Horrific, I know. I don’t think I’ve ever pulled more than 7 coaches. They called that feat impressive.”
38A was stunned and felt sorry for the engine.
“Hey, what’s your name?
“You first”
“38A. You?”
“I’m the only 2-2-2-2 in America. Surely that’s specific enough.”
“It’s much too long though!”
“Four twos then. That’s what everyone else calls me”
“Mmm… no, that doesn’t feel right.”
38A thought about it for a bit.
“What about A2?”
“Ha! I wish!”
“Abe?”
“That’ll do then. Better than The Mad Engineer’s B#%^!”
“The who’s what?”
“Only the first bit is important. That’s what some men call Hackmeld, y’see.”
“Oh! Anything I should know about this place?”
“Get close, I don’t know if he can hear us and I don’t want to find out.”
38A gently climbed up into the running board and laid her head on the smokebox.
“Alright. I had the process that did that to you done to me. I was able to look around the house before he undid it. My advice to you? Get the great leather book from the library next to his bedroom. Then flee.”
38A was frightened now. Abe knew the feeling all too well.
“I think you should get back to your friends now.”
38A ran back upstairs, to the garage. There, Regal Corps was being dramatic while the rest of the train told them The Manservant was wasn’t going to speak. She did greet 38A though.
“Hey A! What’d you find?”
38A’s look of horror stayed on their face. She quickly found herself being hugged by the other locomotives. She soon found her nerve again.
“I don’t think he should hear it though”
The coaches quickly plugged The Manservant’s ears.
38A told them what Abe had said.
San Pascal and 3 of the locomotives headed upstairs.
Downstairs was a bust, but upstairs was promising. It was obvious there was a part of the house they couldn’t get to. They saw no door. 38L sighed and leaned on a indented wall. It wobbled. They quickly realized this was a door. The group pushed it open as quietly as they could. Then they snuck in and looked for useful books.
They quickly found the leather book. San Pascal was looking through the bookshelves for anything that would give them an edge on the whole being human thing. They found a off-white ivory book with red trim. The house suddenly became very quiet.
A door opened.
Employee 711 Appeared. He was Apoplectic.
They saw all kinds of strange lights radiate from him. Particularly his hands and eyes. Once he got to the group he used it. 38A took the brunt of it. She quickly found herring on the floor.
38L was held back from diving in by 38B. 38B then threw a book at 711. This proved incredibly effective. They picked up 38A and ran to the stairs.
San Pascal had seen enough and dived out window in the stairwell. They went to the garage and warned the rest. The trio upstairs hastily went downstairs.
38C was giving The Manservant a good beating. Two thuds on the floor announced her victory. Once the engines got there everyone left at once.
They ran a few miles before spotting some tracks. They hadn’t really had the chance to stretch their legs before now, and they all agreed that they hated doing it, especially. They had to think far to much to go places now. Poor 38A remained sick and weak.
A freight train had just rolled up. After a brief discussion, a boxcar offered a ride. They gladly accepted.
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June 9, 2023 — Bullet Train to Kyoto
Today was the day that I finally left Tokyo and made my way over toward Kyoto. I was pretty excited about being able to ride the bullet train and I wasn’t disappointed at all. Getting there was a bit of a hassle though. I had left from Tokyo during rush hour and I had about four bags with me including my backpack. It was also raining outside so I also had to carry my umbrella with me. My shoulders were killing me from all the weight on them, but luckily I was able to squeeze into the packed train to the Shinkansen (bullet train) station.
After getting to the Shinkansen’s station it was my first time looking for the lanes for it. So I kind of got lost but not really at the same time. I was in the right area but was caught in between which type of Shinkansen to take so I was standing around trying to figure it out for a couple minutes but I eventually figured it out. Once I found the lane I was needing to board I was kind of disappointed with how the train looked haha. In my head for some reason I have a picture of it being shiny and sleek, but it rlly just looked like a regular train.
Once I sat down the inside really reminded me of an airplane but with WAY more legroom/space. I didn’t feel uncomfortable at all the whole ride to Kyoto, but it is definitely better to bring your own drinks and snacks on the train rather than waiting for the attendant. My pocket wifi worked pretty well while traveling so I also started to watch a new show to pass by time. The train was going so fast that it almost didn’t even feel like I was on it for almost two and a half hours, it was definitely a nice experience.
I wasn’t really feeling too hungry for lunch so I didn’t have anything, but I did go out to Pizza Hut for dinner! It is quite amusing to see chain restaurants that are really popular in the United States here. I had a pizza that was half Margherita and half Deluxe (sausage, green pepper, onion, pepperoni) and it was pretty good. I was expecting it to be sweeter but it was like a regular pizza.
Academic Reflection
My reading for today taught me about the history of the Shinkansen. I learned that it was the first step into creating a nationwide network of train lines around Japan. It’s origins date back to Japan’s war with China in the 1930s where Japan was becoming more isolated at the eastern edge of an expanding empire so it began making the effort to improve links. The Shinkansen was built using a standard gauge, but electric locomotives were originally rejected by the military due to them being concerned about being vulnerable for attack.
There were also two major accidents that had occurred when the trains were still being perfected. One had happened at Tsurumi where two passenger trains had collided with a derailed freight train and the other had occurred at Mikawashima where too many trains were operating at the same time so it was hard to stop oncoming trains. But the good things that had came out of expanding the Shinkansen lines were increased in things like populations and economic activity (Tohoku Shinkansen). Also back then, the JR Shinkansen was a bit more worked against since the Japanese economy was dealing with oil crises and the plan to make a line between Tokyo and Narita Airport had been abandoned due to local protests about both the line and the airport.
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Game maker walking player screen wrap
He could've made a bet with one of his brothers or something, then ended up falling for Vice." "Maybe he's a typical rich asshole who enjoys manipulating people. "Does he like playing games?"ĭmitri had warned me he would do just that.īenji sat on my parents' love seat. How much of Dmitri's interest was real? How much of his sentiments?Įverything between us was as fake as the Strip. How? When I couldn't wrap my mind around it? "I don't know. I sat on the lumpy couch, Mom and Dad on one side, Karin protectively on the other. "Honey, we're going to figure this out."ĭad searched my expression. I dimly noticed Al and Gram had traded up from sherry to hard liquor-vodka. Even Cash's welcoming gurgle from his playpen barely regis Cold-as-Ice Vice had broken into frozen shards. When Mom and Dad leapt up to hug me, I gave a humiliating sob. I glanced down at my ring, and the tears fell and fell.Īfter what must've been ages, we pulled up to my parents' house. I'd made my home alongside a wave-tossed cliff with a man who was a stranger to me. Was this what crazy felt like? How had Dmitri stood it for so many years?įamiliar scenery passed by my window, but Dmitri's dried blood on the glass colored every sight. I had all this noise in my head, yet my body was numb. I couldn't, could barely think with the roaring in my ears. "She looks like she's about to throw up." I gazed back as he stumbled out into the traffic, yelling, "Do not leave me!" Pete said, "Finally!" The car sped forward out onto the Strip, leaving Dmitri behind. "You cannot leave!"Įven now I fought the impulse to soothe his anguish. "Just unlock the door, Vika." Another brutal punch against the window. The sedan lurched ahead a few feet, but was blocked by a taxi.Įyes wild, Dmitri yelled, "Nooo!" Still yanking on the car handle, he pounded his fist against the window. "Stay the fuck away from me! I never want to see your face again!" "Guess what, wife? I'd do all of it again!" That seemed to snap him past the limits of his control. I'd been tied across the railroad tracks, perceiving the vibrations of an oncoming locomotive. I'd subconsciously picked up clues from his behavior and sensed my own impending doom. The anxiety I'd grappled with had never been about fate or luck or a too-perfect husband. He bellowed with frustration and yanked the car handle so hard I thought it would break. I murmured, "Did you set Brett up?" But Dmitri must've heard. I spotted his bodyguards at the entrance, "buffering" against Calydon security. "I can make this right! Vika, love, I can." He looked crazed, as if he was barely holding it together. He stabbed his fingers through his unruly hair. You do not want to do that." This car was between Dmitri and his wife. A month ago, he'd warned Pete, "Do not ever get between me and her. "Just give me a chance to explain." Another pounding hit to the roof. get to you!" His accent was the thickest I'd ever heard it. Pete snapped, "For fuck's sake."ĭmitri was just getting started. "Open this door!" He pounded a fist on the roof of the car. "Please don't cry, moya zhena."Įach one maddened him more. "Just talk to me." He sounded so agonized, and even now it gutted me. But short of impending murder, I'd never targeted a decent person. I understood the irony, could see the parallels. "Let me explain, Vika!"Įxplain what? He'd played with my life. "Don't you already know?" I held up my phone. In a roughened voice, he asked, "What's happened?" Masking his panic, he bit out, "Open this for me, love." He caught sight of us and charged forward, his long strides eating up the pavement.ĭmitri reached the car, pulling the door handle. Speak of the devil.ĭmitri's head jerked in all directions as he searched for me. Movement near the hotel entry drew my attention. "Yeah, sis." Benji's solemn eyes made mine water. I'd known something was off, had felt it down to my bones! "You guys think Dmitri's been spying on me for a year?" I'd love one too-a way to reverse the last month of my life. "We'll know more soon enough." He craned his head, looking for a way to reverse. "We've started digging with detective agencies," Pete said. The success of his scheme had depended on my pain. He'd set me up for devastation, ensuring I found my fiance with another woman. I had no urge to get back together with Brett or anything, but could any man have withstood that kind of lure? Fifteen minutes ago, I would've bet my life on Dmitri. "Sevastyan must've hooked up with a private investigator in Vegas and put a temptation scenario into motion." "My grift sense said it was a badger game! I just suspected you guys of pulling it-to get the gull out of my life."
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Days of Candy Chapter 2
Warnings: CreepyDark!Duncan Shepherd, sexual harassment, dubcon/non? (just to be safe) touching, dirty talk, possessive Duncan, abuse of power, manipulative Duncan, male masturbation, forced kiss, cockwarming, mention of rape and abuse (but none in the chapter), housewife kink, implied age gap, corruption kink, innocence kink, implied homophobia, mention of anxiety, depression and mental disorders, misogyny kink, corruption kink, sexism, implied age gap, Duncan‘s dirty thoughts, sir kink, praise kink.
Summary: In the small town of Willowdale, Y/N finds her dull life as a waitress at a mediocre diner get a little more interesting when the mysterious and daunting Sheriff takes an interest in her.
Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x Naive/shy reader
This is the first thing I ever written and posted so sorry if this is bad, please give me any constructive feedback/criticism to improve! I am new to this please don’t hate it too much lmao.
Author’s note : This series will have dubious consent and sexual harassment. It is a dark story about a Corrupt Sheriff’s who manipulates people so if you are uncomfortable with that please don’t read! This story deals hugely with sexism as its based in the late 50s/60s.
Thanks to @bloodcoatedeclipse for reading through some parts of it and giving me feedback lmaoo.
I didn’t use a lot of 50s/60s slang just two besides swell and gal
Flip your lid - go crazy
Nifty/groovy - cool or cool vibes
Word count: 5.6k
“what a perfect view doll, bend down, y’ur ass stickin out, all for me all in this lonely night”, a familiar voice said seductively
You quickly get up, feeling flustered, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you hold the mop close to your body
“Sh-sh-sheriff what are you doing here?”, Feeling nauseous because of his presence, alone, at night…after that previous incident.
“What does it look like doll? I am here to pick you up.”, Duncan says with confidence as if the question you are asking him is the stupidest he has heard
You immediately, look up to him. He was wearing a brown greaser jacket, you felt it is similar to jacket Xavier might have had…this made your heart sink, what didn’t help is when you realized how attractive he is because of the result of the rain, his beard is glistering from the reflections of the diner’s lighting despite it being dull.
You felt your heart beat.
“No, its okay its a walking distance”
“I can’t let a beautiful young dame like yourself walk alone now can I? Hop in the car once you’r are done.”
You blinked at him not knowing how to respond, you feel shy when you talk to him, always not knowing how to answer him back..maybe because he knew Xavier?
Or maybe because he had so much power as a sheriff..and you are sure he is going to be re-elected again next year. He apparently helped a lot of people to get out of debts but that makes you wonder how does he get all this money? Did Xavier know?
He seems like he is waiting for your answer, as his hands are on his waist, around his handcuffs and keys, and his lips playing with the toothpick lingering on his mouth
You easily get stuck in your head, you snap back to reality: “it is okay, you don’t need to do - ”
He interrupts your sentence, “is there something you would like to say to me doll?, cause it looks like you just don’t want my company is that it?” You felt his chest vibrate from how he uttered that question, it sounded nearly unintelligible.
You felt your heart pounding, sweat forming on your forehead. You didn't want to make him angry. “No no of course I want your company!, let me finish up and I will meet ya outside.” You agitatedly vocalize your statement while looking at the ground
He loves that he can always get his way with you. You make it so easy.
He hums in approval
“No its alright I will wait for ya, love seeing you doing those house chores like a pretty little housewife. It is a sight dollface”, he chuckles while eyeing you up and down.
You pause, feeling tensed.
“Go on, continue” as he gives himself a seat, across from you to see you working and see your face.
He does love seeing your rear, but he loves seeing you flustered when he gazes at you.
You shakily start mopping the floor, every second feels like torture. Hoping he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you.
But however he has noticed, he is mused that he has power of you, makes his cock excited
“Am I making you nervous babydoll?” He cooes, shifting his toothpick on his lip, left to right with a slyish grin
You ignore him, giving him your side angle, while mopping away from him. You give him your back figure which makes me angry and hard at the same time.
“eye on me little lady”, he says in a harsh tone, punctuating each word slowly
You respond back to him surprised with your confidence as you look at the door behind him, scared to look at him in the eyes, “can you please let me finish and you can take me home…”
“Watch your manners baby, or you are in it for a spankin’, declares it with raised eyebrows.
You blush, why is he talking to you that way? it’s not like you were his wife….
Was he that touchy and talkative with you when Xavier was your boyfriend?
Carissa has told you no, he started acting differently ever since Xavier went missing and then declared dead.
“S-sorry sheriff”, you shift back to your older position, so that Duncan can see your face, and continue mopping
He likes when you are eyes are engaging with his eyes, he is waiting for the day when you touch yourself on his bed with your legs spread wide open for his wolf-like eyes to take in the view as you chant his name like prayer to give you the command for you to finally cum, while staring at him with your chastely eyes.
As you mop the floor, motioning it back and forth towards Duncan, your curvy body was in motion as well. He hoped you didn’t re-button your dress again, as he can take in the view of your breasts jiggling again. His eyes lingering slowly all over his favourite parts of your body, your neck, lips, neck, waist and hips . He noticed how nervous you are, there were fear in your eyes, you felt naked in his eyes because of his alpha-like eyes, giving you goosebumps.
You saw his pupils dilated not sure why.
-
After 15 minutes of awkward silence and Duncan forcing you to look at him as you were mopping the floor, you hoped the floor looks fine and that your boss Bob doesn’t get mad the next day.
You are not going to lie, you always wanted to be in his car. It was a dream car. You have seen them a lot in magazines, you don’t know much about cars but you do know this one, 1956 Chevy Bel Air, with a unique colour. White with purple around the edges, elaborate taillight and chrome highlights.
This was the first time you got close to the car, Your head started to hurt, you stood your ground, as you remember fragments of Xavier riding a similar car but in red.
Duncan realizes you might have remembered something…fuck fuck fuck, he hoped you didn’t remember what he didn’t want you to remember..
His hands grips your hand to make you snap out of it before you dig deeper into your suppressed memories.
“you alright there, doll?” Faking his concern you don’t know that, as he opens the door for you to hop in
“Ye..ah..” I am fine” you softly respond. His hand leaves your hand and goes to your back to shift you to get into his car.
You hop in his car, the car felt new, smell of leather with a mix of aged.. cigarettes smoked probably by Shepherd.
-
The car ride was silent.. he has an old song playing which makes it even more unbearable.
Midnight with the stars and you
Midnight and a rendezvous
Your eyes held a message tender
Saying "I surrender all my love to you
“How old is this song anyway?” You mention in annoyance with your right hand on the the rest that is placed near the door handle
Duncan has a wide smile on his face, happy that you are finally making a conversation with him.
“it’s from the 1930s I believe.....besides I don’t like the weird music you youngsters listen to nowadays..what was it Elvis Presley and The Beatles? They aint manly, jiggling all around with their bobby haircuts” removing his hands from the steering wheel to motion with his hand the disapproval.
You giggle, and his heart skips a bit. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he made you giggle. Xavier always made you giggle and it frustrated him.
“The Beatles are swell….but James Dean has my heart. I loved his style in that movie, particularly his red jacket in Rebel Without a Cause.. it’s nifty.” You state swoonly as you gaze out of the window.
Midnight brought us sweet romance
I know all my whole life through
I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do
Midnight with the stars and you
He thought maybe that’s why you liked Xavier, he bought a similar red jacket as James Dean from the film several days after meeting you. Xavier also had that rebel vibe to him. He remembered his friend as well being a fan of Marlon Brando hence why he wanted to be an actor. To move out of the suburbs, to go to the dreamland..to Hollywood with you. You used to always want to be around him, he didn’t let the deputies patrol the drive in, since he always saw you there with him. He hated seeing you with his friend but he can’t help himself, he wanted to always be near you, see you and to one day feel your skin on his skin.
His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he starts to get jealous over a dead man.
You noticed his face seems boiling from rage as his hands gripped forcibly the steering wheel…you don’t know why. Scared to ask so you just continue gazing at the view in locomotion from the car window, as your sheer scarf around your head blowing from the impact of the window.
You loved the aftermath of the rain, the order after the chaos.
-
After a few minutes, The sheriff parks in front of your house. It’s 12 AM.
The house you lived in was basic, owned by your deceased father. It was a small house with a small balcony, it looks a little bit like a tree house. Wooden with no paint job. With a white door to enter the house, two small front steps and a small terrace, where you tend to read the Woman magazines.
He can’t wait for you to live in his house. Especially since he is a veteran who served in the Second World War, the government provided him with the perfect suburban American Dream home.
“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.” you shyly state, about to open the door of his fancy car.
“Nah -ah -ah not too fast, you have to be punished.” He sings in a mocking tone with a daunting smirk.
You were nervously fidgeting, you don’t know why maybe because you are worried you might have done something that might be incriminating especially with your memory loss situation.
“What? What for?” you gullibly ask, looking up to him.
“You lied to me, you told me you had a doctor appointment when it fact you finish your shift late, kitten” , you see him remove the toothpick that was on his plump lips and put it on the ledge behind the steering wheel.
Oh thank God-
but why should I be punished for this? You didn’t know what to say to him so you just look at his eyes, waiting for any instructions.
He remarks that, he loves how obedient you are to him.
“Come closer, suga’r ” he taps his chest motioning you to come closer to him
What is the punishment? Is he going to spank me?
But we are not married why would he??
You timidly move close to him, refusing to make eye contact with him.
He lifts up your chin, bringing your face near his and your gaze to his.
“Kiss me or else I won’t let you leave this car”, Duncan whispers seductively as he shuts your window’s car seat and secures that your door is locked, trapping you in.
“..N…no..o” Duncan this isn’t right”, you respond back.
As you shift back to your seat, Duncan aggressively grips your waist with his right hand and grips your chin with his left hand, forces you into a kiss and he goes deep and sensual, demanding access to your mouth but you instantly deny him entry.
This angers him, he aggressively yanks your hair, you gasp giving Duncan the chance to insert his tongue, he needed to taste your mouth.
You try biting his upper lip, he decides to lift up your weak body from your seat, manhandling you, without breaking from the kiss, you feel his strong hands spank you harsh. You whimper loudly.
This made his cock twitch, lust filling him at the thought of your spanked, bare ass turning into crimson-like imprints by his own hand; or by the paddle with his name engraved, so that his name can be imprinted on your ass…maybe next time.
He is waiting for you to make a bad move again so he can discipline you this way, even if you weren’t his bride yet.
You break the kiss gasping for air, “D..Duuncan..stop” you panted with watery eyes, trying to break away from his grasps, with your hands pushing his muscular chest. He didn’t take no for answer. Removing your hands out of the way with his claw-like hands and putting them around his broad back. He then forcefully dragged you onto his lap to straddle his thick thighs, “be a good girl now, you don’t want to be spanked now don’t you?”
He linked his lips with your lips with urgence and dominance. His tongue dancing with yours, wet and minty from the flavoured cigarettes he tends to smokes.
You felt one of his hands leave your waist and lingering underneath your skirt to cup your clothed sex.
A deep growl leaves his chest
He dreamt of touching this pussy for years. Your soft and squishy puffy lips felt so good on his rough manly hand.
You let out a soft gasp with eyes wide open in surprise, and broke away from the kiss to come up for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.
Duncan grabs your chin, not giving you a second to breath and continues his assault on your lips and your clothed pussy. His middle finger going from your slit all the way to your swollen clit while his index and his forefinger are on your lips, touching you slowly with his hand. He wanted to make you wet before you left.
Your face flushed, you don’t remember if you reached that base with Xavier yet or not…he was your first boyfriend.
This felt forbidden, having his hands all around you.
You felt like you wanted to go to the bathroom, you were worried it might have been your period?
His tongue feels like hot water burning your skin. He claimed your mouth with intensity. You feel your knees weakened, Duncan filling all your senses.
You are so close to his body, your head in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, you feel his warmth and felt his heart beating quick. You put your hands on his golden badge situated on his right chest, reflected in the moon light, to try and push him away, but he didn’t budge.
he left your assaulted mouth, hearing you panting heavily, and started licking at the column of your neck, his hand leaves your pussy and goes to your bared fleshed upper thigh, his hand moving in a reciprocating motion.
You felt his beard tickling your left check and your neck, His hot soft grunts and warm breath sends shivers down your body and to your aching pussy
Not sure if it’s lust? Is this how you felt with Xavier ?
You bit down on your bottom lip trying to hold back a sob or was it a moan?
“Duncan, I don’t feel good”
He knows he is making you feel good, you just need guidance that’s all.
“Why are you moaning then huh?” He chuckles, you felt his chest vibrating from his laughter, giving you goosebumps.
“give in baby, let me take care of you, that’s what Xavier would’ve wanted” he mutters darkly
your stomach twisting into a nervous knot, is this what Xavier would’ve wanted?
“Re-ally?” You utter quietly with a blush heating up around your neck and cheeks.
He didn’t hear you. Thank God
he gets closer to your ear and whispers,“Knew you’d taste so sweet, just like candy, I wonder what’s the rest of you taste like hm?”
He aggressively bites your earlobe, his hot breath danced on your ear, “I bet just like those pancakes you serve me every morning, thick and creamy.” In a lustful tone.
You squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, felt something touch your stomach, he lets out a profound loud rumble, you look up at him out of shock, his wide blown eyes have now darken.
He looks at your lips that is now glistering and swollen from the kiss, he finally marked a part of you with his spit, he can’t wait to corrupt your other holes.
He decided to let go, this was enough to get him by in the meantime.
You felt his hand loosening around your waist. You take that chance to go back to your seat.
“I….I.. think you need to leave Sir, thanks for the ride”, your hands nervously twist with each other on your lap as you mentally facepalm yourself
“Sir” where did that come from?
Hearing you call him Sir made him groan silently and made his cock stir painfully against the zipper of his pants.
His already rigorous cock getting harder. Duncan trying to recollect himself and not fuck you for the first time in the backseat of his car.. he thought you deserved better than that..a shy innocent young server…probably a virgin.
Well he hoped you still were a virgin, he hoped that fucker didn’t take your virginity. he wanted to claim you for himself, every part of you.
“Why don’t you leave then birdie?”
You felt your thighs automatically clenched and your pussy tingling.
he never called you that, why did you like him calling you that?
Duncan saw your legs clamping together and took note of that. He also didn’t realize you can blush harder than that….you realized you were in his car….idiot
You got out of his car and you heard Duncan tsk out of annoyance, “where is your manners kitten?”
Whats up with him? You thought to yourself.. you thanked him before why do you have to thank him again?
You did not care anymore, you just wanted to back home without any problems and arguments
You huffed in annoyance, “Thanks for the ride Sheriff.”
You uncomfortably felt him linger at your figure as you walked back to your house.
He loves seeing you in motion.you move better than the waves of the ocean, smoothly and flawlessly. His steel blue eyes scanned you up and down, consuming in your body with hunger; that waitress dress in pale blue making you look even more innocent and seductive, an odd combination. He believes only you can do that, besides Marilyn Monroe.
He hoped he can see you from your window, with no curtains or an open curtain, so that he can watch you domestically, wondering how you look like touching yourself when you feel needy at night, if you did touch yourself.
-
You entered home safe and sound then the realization hit you…. how does he know where you live? You didn’t give him your address? But then again he is the sheriff, he probably has access to all that information but …does he know everyone’s address by hard?..you doubt that. Maybe he visited you with Xavier?
-
After he saw you close the door, he paused for a second to relish the taste of you left on his lips and was about to put his key back to the ignition, until he saw something interesting.. that made him much harder than he already was… your arousal on the seat of his car.
He reclined his head back to the head restraint,
“Fuck.. you are trying to kill me doll?"
He was so tempted to taste your arousal… he felt like an animal as he brought his index to his seat that was tainted with your nectar and brought it back to his lips.
A hungry growl grumbled in his chest, “tastier than any fuckin candy”
His chest was full of pride, he was glad he made you wet. Not Xavier. Him
He opens his car’s compartment, there lies a stolen panty of yours covered in blood from that day, he didn’t want your fresh arousal going to waste, mixing it with your bloody panty.
After arriving home that day because of sexual urges, he relieved himself to thought of you for a second time, with his left hand holding your used panty from a year ago and his right hand unbuckling his belt, to reveal his throbbed cock. He smeared on his long length, the pre-cum leaking at the head.
Working on his cock, he brings your panty to his nose to sniff your dried blood blended with your womanhood scent, it smelled pure and sweet just like you. To make himself cum faster, he thought of you coming to his office one day during your break and cockwarming him on his lap while he finishes up paperwork, imagining your painful whimpers, you fidgeting in his lap because you are finding it hard to adjust to his cock because of how big he was, he imagines his cock bottoms out in your tight pussy, and how you wet walls clenches around his big cock.
“Dun..c.an, you are too big”, you whine with a giggle, shifting it into a squeal
“Call me sir, love it when you call me sir darlin’”, he growls in your ear
“Sir” , he imagines you whimpering through tears from his cock’s intrusion in your narrowed pussy
“Dollface, you are taking me so well, taking me all in” he praises you in a slightly low deep voice
A groan leaves his chest as he starts pumping his erected length harder, going from the bottom all the way to the top, twisting his tip, and then back down.
He envisions his pelvis rubbing against your mound and clit, your pussy being pink and wet engulfing his cock, while his right hand is feeling your soft and pulpous butt cheek. Your chest is heaving right in front of his predatory eyes, he decides to save the lustful images of him sucking your tits and nibbling your areola another time.
He imagines your voice in his ear, calling him sheriff, sir, daddy and begging him to start fucking you.
As he is about to reach his high, his thrusts gets sloppier with his sticky hands, chanting your name like a prayer over and over again.
Groaning louder as his cock twitches, moaning your name louder as ropes of white soaks his hand, and soaking your panty a bit with his cum.
-
Tired to change out of your clothes, you quickly go to your bed situated on the left side of your room. You feel the most peaceful in your room, the only time you don’t feel like someone is watching you despite the reoccurring nightmares ever since the incident.
With the floral window curtains. Roses and daisies on a shelf next to a concealed window, giving floral scents all around your room to help calm your nerves and help you fall asleep. At least that was what your doctor had recommended as repression memories if stayed long-term can cause emotional health problems like anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.
You immediately shift to the deep slumber of sleep, out of exhaustion.
-
You wake up the next day 10:30 am. You slept well that day oddly enough, a peaceful sleep. You were happy since you haven’t had any nightmares the past few days. That happiness shifted when you realized the sensual incident that happened in public, and you don’t know how you will be able to work in the diner again, especially how small this town is. You will be the talk of the town again, because obviously that situation had to be with the fucking Sheriff.
At least for today, you had the day off today. You told your Boss Bob that you have an appointment with your doctor at 1 pm, and since you closed the diner yesterday he decided to leave you off the hook.
You made yourself some coffee, and went to your closet that was attached to the wall to choose an outfit. You decide to go with a yellow pastel cardigan with a yellow gingham dress that has a spaghetti strap, wear some rouge lipstick and yellow pale eyeshadow with your hair tied into a pony tail.
You then passed sometime on TV watching Bewitched re-runs, and called Carissa at around 12:30 pm during her break to check in on her brother.
Your hands swirling around the cord waiting for someone from the diner to pick up.
Selma answers, “Hello, Welcome to Jukeburgers, the best milkshakes in town!, what can I do for ya today!” You could hear Venus by Franke Avalon playing and muffled voices in the distance, seemed surprisingly busy today.
You answer loudly, “hey Selma, it’s Y/N, can you pass the phone to Carissa!”
“Oh, Y/N how you been? I heard from Adam about what happened with the Sheriff, so y’all a thing now huh?… You went for the old powerful friend.” Selma teases, her laughing echoing from the speaker.
Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest, you knew this was going to happen. Trying to sound strong and not in the verge of crying, “Whatever Selma, pass the phone to Carissa” your fingers twisted the cord nervously.
Selma just snickers and you hear her shouting out Carissa’s name to grab the phone
“Hey Y/N?”
“Cari!, I wanted to check up on you with Richard… you didn’t get to tell me what exactly happened…. is everything okay?” You utter in a concerned tone, gripping the phone handle harder.
“yeah yeah, we had to go to the hospital again, he got beat up again, but he didn’t wanna tell me why” you hear her voice quivering on the other side.
You know Carissa is worried about him, as well as about his town finding out about his lifestyle.
She continues,“ You know Richard, I don’t want him to get locked up again, especially this town…views anyone that goes to the mental hospital… as lunatics”, you hear her voice quivering on the other side.
You remember Richard telling you that the Sheriff bailed him out the first time so now he owes the sheriff twice.
Why twice?
Was it because of his relationship with Jim Mason?
Does his sister know?
To not worry his sister, he sometimes tells you things that she doesn’t know and you were like Carissa to him. His big sister.
You snap out of your thoughts when you heard Carissa sniffling.
You hated hearing your friend’s sadness echoing from her voice, hoping you were there to hug her. “ I am glad he is okay at least, I miss seeing Richie, I will talk to him whether I get the chance… and you are right.”
You thought about what Carissa thought.
This small boring town feeds on gossip. It made you worried about Xavier’s parents…finding out about yesterday’s incident. Between the last girlfriend of their deceased son and one of his friends in an intimate scene.
What doesn’t help is that Xavier’s parents invited you and Duncan for dinner next week.
“He actually didn’t come today its as if he knows you might-“
You look at the time while you were on the phone, It was 12:40. Your eyes widen out of anxiety of being late. You cut your friend off without letting her finish the sentence.
“Oh shoot Carissa, I have to go now, my appointment is in 20 mins!”
“I really hope all goes well with the appointment, I know I tell you a thousand times but…I don’t really trust that doctor to be honest with ya” she admits assuredly
There was a small pause, because you didn’t really know how to react to that. He was the cheapest Doctor that you can afford. You really had no choice.
Carissa breaks the awkward silence, “well let me know what happens, hope it goes well!” She suddenly sounds different..and hopeful. Makes you happy that you can at least end the call with her tone shifting positively.
“Yeah.. I hope so.. bye Cari” you say weakly with a soft smile
The line goes dead.
-
You have been going to the doctor 11 months ago, it was recommended by the doctor who helped with your bruises and aided your surgery, Matt Rogers. Since there was nothing particular wrong with your brain scans. He thought it might be something psychological, and he was right. Your neurologist doctor Dr.Barnes, said it is due to trauma that your memories are repressed. Dr. Barnes said it is possible to have specific memories of people, locations and events repressed when it is too hard to bear. He also said It is possible for memories of abuse that have been forgotten for a long time to be remembered….you hope it isn’t related to abuse.
You feel nervous going to his office, you are honestly terrified of the idea of regaining back your memories, what if you find something really disturbing about yourself? About Xavier? How did you get those bruises? Why were some of your clothes missing? Why going to the doctor all those months didn’t help as much? Actually at all?
His office is located not that far off from the the Police department, in the neurology department of Willowdale public hospital.
“Welcome back Miss Y/N, please have a seat” signalling you to take a seat in front of his desk.
It doesn’t help that his office has muted painted walls, changed from age and a faint smell of mouth wash.
“So Y/N, has there been any recent changes?”, He asked while he scanned over your file.
“I finally have a small fragment of Xavier..in my head..” You pinpoint to right side of your forehead.
He knew about your relationship with Xavier and that you don’t remember much of it. It's weird how your brain almost erased that incident and Xavier out of your head.
“Finally some great news, please tell me more!” He lowered your files to give you his undivided attention
“I..I don’t remember the incident, or any memories that I shared with him, just that Xavier had a similar car to Sheriff’s car, but a red version of it.”
There was a torturing pause, you look at your doctor, he seemed lost in thought with brows hollowed and biting his lower lip, he seemed anxious while clicking his retractable pen
You felt tension in the air, when you mentioned the Sheriff..but why?
He breaks a heavy smile,“Well, that’s great news to hear, maybe being around the Sheriff might be in your favour huh?” he chuckles with a Chesire’s smirk on his face
Oh fuck. He probably heard about the incident that happened yesterday.
Your cheeks turn red as you turn your head to the left side of the room, focusing on the wall full of his certificates and accomplishments.
“Oh sorry, Y/N, that was unprofessional..covering his face with his hand, and then went back to look at your files
"No it’s all good Dr.” You gulped and nodded.
He clears his throat and asks, “ any nightmares lately?”
You shake your head, “I haven’t had one the past few days”
He nods while holding your file, “Good, Good. Are you taking the medications regularly at the appropriate time?”
“Yes…. but I haven’t remember anything that much sadly, is it supposed to take that much of a time?” You ask confusedly
“the brain is a complex neurological system, you can’t force its responses.” thrusting out his lips in displeasure
You feel like you are wasting not only your time but also your money. But he is a doctor that you can afford so you have no other choice?
“Ah, I see, well as long as I get some answers pretty soon.” You look down on his Brintons carpet.
You felt your chest tightened out of sadness, will you ever find out what truly happened?
“So far, we are not sure if it is going to be a short term memory or long term memory loss Y/N, so what you can do is keep taking the medications, and you will be eventually get better Miss Y/N”
You nod with a fake smile.
Do you have a choice?
-
Duncan knew you were at the doctor today, he wish he was able to follow you, but he had a huge workload today. He wanted to see what kinda doll-like outfit you wore today. He particularly liked you in pastel colours and plaid skirts.
It was his break now. He was waiting a call from a certain someone.
Clock ticking, and his legs bouncing up and down waiting for that fucker to call.
Phone rings once
Duncan takes the call.
“Whats the update?”
“Hi Sheriff, he continues "Well, your sweet gal remembered something..”
Duncan eyes widen, and his hands grips the cord aggressively
“What does she remember?”, Duncan says in a threatening voice
“She remembers he had the red car….. the one you got rid of”
His Adam apple gulps out of nerve but he is relieved you still don’t remember what happened that day.
“You fucker, you said those medications well help her not remember a fucking thing-“ his voice getting louder.
“Hey, hey, hey calm down there sheriff, no need to lose your temper, she hasn’t remember anything the past goddam 11 months! And I haven’t even tried hypnos-
“Listen you fuckin cunt, if she remembers anything I swear to God- I will put you in jail for your multiple-“ he chastised with a harsh tone.
“Alright Alright! No need to flip your lid! I will see what I can do to not make her remember a thing”
“You better, or else I will make you lose your fuckin job and lose your pitiful wife” Sheriff expresses in an authoritative sound and hangs the phone stridently.
The Doctor had multiple rape attempts done. Duncan was called several times because of noise complaints, hearing ladies crying or screaming in multiple occasions at night, in drive-ins, parks and carnivals. 4 out of 10 times, it was Duncan who stopped the rape from occurring but he didn’t bring it up to the police department, and instead used this knowledge in his favour and out of power to gain information about his girl, when he discovered that he was going to be her neurologist, and to use him to manipulate her medications or her so that she doesn’t remember a thing.
He will do anything to make you not remember. He is shaping you to be his perfect little housewife. He got this far and he is not going back.
some songs mentioned in the chapter
https://open.spotify.com/track/3dDtXviPnTfLUg111MuTic?si=0d4f2a331a244100 - Midnight and The Stars and You by Ray Noble
https://open.spotify.com/track/2uwP4d0aVAo90aet6UnaRK?si=dc41f548d3324c9d - Venus by Frankie Avalon
Taglist: @instincts-baby @9layerdevilfoodcake @beautyiswithinchaos @langdons-pinkyring @bloodcoatedeclipse @plymptxn-reborn @5am-cigarette @anakinsslag @michaellangdonstanaccount @rexellaaa @jimmason @devilish-hecate @angelicmichael @car241 @kitty4860 @deliciousartpoliticsdean @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @darkladyslytherin
@luciahoneychurch @saamwilsonn @chicaluna2410 @honeyblossom56
@codysprincexx @thatbit5 @wasteland-babe
#cody fern x reader#house of cards fic#duncan shepherd x reader#xavier plympton x reader#duncan shepherd x you#Jim Mason x reader#xavier plympton x Y/N#house of cards#The Tribes of Palos Verdes#american horror story#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon x you#duncan shepherd x Y/N#american horror story fic#american horror story fanfiction#duncan shepherd fanfiction#duncan shepherd smut#Dark!Duncan Shepherd x female reader#Dark!Duncan Shepherd x reader#Dark!Duncan Shepherd x Y/N#House of cards fanfiction#american horror story apocalypse#the last time i saw richard#american horror story 1984 fic#american horror story apocalypse fic#my writing#fiction#fanfiction#Richard x Jim Mason#days of candy
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My revised cladogram with frontier monsters minus paolumu because I can’t figure out what it is. There was some changes and slight reclassifications. It runs on the same assumption as my last flying wyvern tree (which can be found here) but with a few differences that should be noted.
An updated 2022 version can be found here
I now think that scansoriopterygids specifically as ancestors isn’t a definitive answer or the best. It works well enough but some sort of paravian with similar hand structures works as well. Plus there’s the possibility that scansoriopterygids might be oviraptorsaurids, and I don’t exactly know what kinds of feather types they had, but I do know that the feather types on various flying wyverns is also present on paraves (also I just like paraves more). So now I personally think that the ancestor of flying wyverns was some of of parave with styliforms like Yi: think a sort of omnipedal dromeosaur with leathery wings.
Additionally, it’s rather hard for a theropod to become quadrupedal due the wish bones and wrists of theropods making quadrupedal locomotion very difficult. So the climbing trees with hands hypothesis doesn’t work since that doesn’t put the same pressures on hands as walking horizontally does. A burrowing theropod is a more likely scenario, as that’s one of the few situations that would force a theropod to become quadrupedal and burrowing animals are more likely to survive extinction events (in this case the K-T extinction). Their large powerful arms would allow them to scale trees, and some would grow a patagium and styliforms. Then most of my previously purposed theory would play out at that point.
Bird wyverns are put as a sister group to flying wyverns as I think most of them are paraves too, although I have their group as a bit of a wastebasket taxon.
I added the origin Wyvern and Wyvern rex because even though they’re slendom mentioned they’re important as the most basal members of both the god wyverns and flying wyverns proper.
The addition of frontier monsters really cleared up and fleshed out the Tigrex family, and Hyujikiki allowed me to finally figure out where Barioth goes. Both are vaguely mammalian and have very similar forelimbs. @eightleggedfiend pointed out that magnamalo’s finger blades look like repurposed styliforms/pseudophalanges, so it felt appropriate to place the fart tiger as a basal flightless member of the Barioth/Hyujikiki family. Pariapuria is a weird member of the rex family that split off early.
Scalebats were a little hard to pin down as they’re fairly derived. I heavily considered the idea of paolumu relatives but I couldn’t find enough similarities between them. So considering their wings which are entirely adapted for flight and not walking, three unfused fingers, and two pseudophalanges, I placed them as derived members of a basal group of bipedal wyverns. Specifically the cave wyverns due to habitat. They’re a bit hard to see on the tree because apparently nobody has actually captioned the icon from the game like most monsters. I initially put cave wyverns as Pariapuria relatives that were unrelated to scale bats, which meant that khezu became bipedal independently of most flying wyverns. But then I realized Pukei has a cloaca on the end of its tail like the cave wyverns and is a brood parasite (which could possibly lead to ectoparasitism), which led to me completely reclassifying all of these monsters and making Pukei+scale bats+cave wyverns a grouping. The larvae of the cave wyverns might have also originally been like normal dinosaur hatchlings (helpless and grubby) but eventually became the larvae we know today as the cave wyverns became endoparasitic.
Pukei is more basal than the scale bats and is close to the ancestor of all cave wyverns.
The astalos/seregios group got placed as a sister group to legiana and it’s relatives. Berukyurosu and it’s relatives cleared the mystery of where legiana lies, as they too went all out on their pseudophalanges, and the structures supporting legiana’s hip wings could be homologous to the segmented hip whips of the Berukyurosu family. The ancestor of the seregios/Berukyurosu likely had a large number of pseudophalanges, which means the wings of astalos is a return to the more conventional flying Wyvern form.
I placed espinas and it’s relative as the most basal member of the “massive shell wyverns” group, with Gravios and co being a sister group to the blos family.
Poborubarumu got placed as a stem or basal “massive shell wyvern” due to its shell (which is admittedly mostly rubbery), extensive head extremities, and number of pseudophalanges. It also has flying ancestors.
Bazelgeuse got a major reclassification as being related to the Raths. Looking at bazel’s concept art, it turns out it does have pseudophalanges. Three just like the Raths. It, along with Anorupatisu and Gurenzeburu paint a better picture of the Rath family tree as they all have similar wings, are armored, and reasonably good fliers. Bazel got a somewhat close placement to the Raths because it has a flame sack and chin spike.
I made Wing drakes a sister group to the Halks, and reclassified remobra (a snake wyvern) as a Cortos relative.
End note: The tree was once again revised and the text was rewritten to include details I added from reblogs that I have since deleted so that everything can be one cohesive post.
#sketches#monster hunter#speculative biology#speculative evolution#biology#sketch#flying wyvern#flying wyverns#monsterhunter#cladograms#taxonomy#phylogeny#cladogram#speculative zoology#phylogenetics#phylogenetic tree#monhun#monster hunter biology
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feeling quite self-indulgent today, so am sniffing around to ask if you've had any further edward thoughts? now that you've had a whole extra month down the ttte rabbithole y'know ;)
The lovely lad himself! 💙🚂✨
Always gonna take the chance to Admire this Hodges pic of him <3
As for my thoughts...
...my thoughts haven't really deviated from last month! He's just such a swell, lovable guy!! Though I will say some'a my Takes have actually Intensified since last time so I'll jump in the deep end here and talk about what is probably the hottest and most controversial.
I don't see Edward as an Old Dude!
If anything, I do, in fact, see him as one of the Younger (adult) ones!
i.e. my gijinka of Thomas is hard to definitively age, but I was aiming for early 20's. Like, young enough that I still would look at him irl and be all "Son Boy" but old enough to plausibly have the jobs he would have as a human railway worker type of guy.
I still wanna draw how I'd see Edward ^^; but the notion of him being like, 16 years or so older than Thomas feels perfect somehow. So his design would reflect that assuming I could translate the ideas to lines well enough psshshh
I know Edward is based on an old 19th Century Design. But I'm sitting here in 2021 and if Thomas is an E2 then he's 106. Literal ages aren't a factor in this! Steam Engines are sadly a relic of the past, every single character is old and out of date irl.
"But CatCat," says someone who isn't you, Jobey, "The Railway series was first written in like the 40's and the relative ages made more sense back then, also the earliest stories were Set before they were written!"
Still not really holding water! The ages have consistently been tied to how they behave, how they feel. Sometimes they age across many books but for the most part they seem to be in a temporal stasis when Gordon will always Act older than Thomas in spite of being younger as the Proto-A1 compared to that mini E2. Percy is diagnosed with Baby but is older than all the main cast sans Edward himself! Age Shmage, the numbers these Locomotives care about are what's painted on their sides!
I can understand why some people want to lean into him as being the older, wiser, "ahh I've had a good time of it overall" mentor dude with silver hair and a big comfy armchair by the fireplace, from which he reads thick tomes and drinks tea with a saucer held beneath. And that's great! Everyone is free to have their own take and this is a good archetype that deserves some Love~ 💖
Contrarywise, I see certain people get ridiculously precious about it. "urgh whenever I see Edward looking in his 20's I die inside" type of comments only fill my emergency Spite Gauge, which can give me quite the burst of energy when my preferred interest fuel runs out!
But anyway, I've made up my mind on how I see Edward, and a lot of that is thanks to based Season 1 and how very Boyish he is in the early character building eps.
This is the face of a young man with a quiet impish steak!!
But also, crucially, Edward can still be that mentor figure while not being a wizened Gandalf looking pocket watch in waistcoat wearing old geezer! He can still have several Sons when he's not even 20 years older than any of them!
He has both a Dad and Mentor's Energy, but not an Old Man's. The latter goes to, again Gordon and also Toby (when he's not actively stirring shit at Ffarquhar anyway lol).
What Edward says in canon, one single time, is that he's "Too old to pull a Royal Train". This isn't an indication that he's literally old, but that his make isn't sufficiently flashy and powerful for a visit that's given so much importance.
The other thing that comes up is like "People tell me I'm old fashioned, but I don't care!" ...which is self explanatory! He's told he's old fashioned, not old old! That he's told such because it's not something he himself really thinks about. And that he doesn't put any of his worth to this!
Finally, I guess I gotta debunk things like his creaking in stories like Cows and Old Iron, and Exploit. His basis is what's old about him, not his self. He's also a tremendously hard worker, but humans and engines alike do get worn out through a lot of exertion. He's lucky that whole body parts could be switched out as soon as funds and time are cleared! Ain't these stories set after WW2? So he'd have been On the entire time! Even the hottest new thing woulda been worn out halfway into All That! Exploit had him pull a train that was jam packed when he was originally built for speed over power, and the return journey stacks every element against him short of dropping a tornado on top, any of the engines woulda broke something in those conditions. The point of Exploit isn't that he was weak enough to break, but that he's strong enough to push through it.
...I think that's all the points I wanted to make...
THE TL;DR IS: He can still do the old person-y stuff! Still using a physical diary and reading yellow paged books and tinkering with old watches, listening to Bach and Mozart. He is old fashioned, he just don't let it stop him, baybee! He's a Dad and a wise, trusted, expericened mentor. And also a kindred spirit with Thomas who absolutely feels like a youthful cheeky lad.
And here, after I wrote all that out I tried to draw him again, and I finally got it close to my intentions! 😼✨
#This is TTTE#TTTE Edward#TTTE Talk#TTTE#oh god how many tags do I wanna put here#I was gonna talk about other things here today but this got a bit away from me! but it's all stuff that's been in my head a while#I mentioned Thomas and Gordon a bit buh ehhh not sure enough to tag them as characters lol#Thomas the Tank Engine#Edward the Blue Engine
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He pushes off that time, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest like he has any right to be angry. To sulk about being denied sex by the guy that's already fucking broken his heart. Whatever. It irks him that Akon makes it seem like this is somehow his fault; like he is the bad guy here for wanting him. Fuck off. And he sticks one of those deathsticks between his lips and blows smoked like a goddamn locomotive train. Hotheaded. What an asshole. Maybe the alcohol works well to remove the filter from his thinking. Things are more black and white.
"Christ, ya got a commitment complex. I ain't got a magic dick. I don't think I can make yer goddamn cynical ass change yer mind about givin' us a try." Frankly, he doesn't even want it anymore, now. He just wants the proximity, the warmth, the smell of sex and yeah, sure, the orgasm. Something to tickle his brain.
"You're such a fuckin' asshole." Is it a dick-move to get angry being denied sexual favours? Definitely. But in the moment he doesn't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe he'll realize and apologize.. "Yer makin' shit too fuckin' complicated. If ya really didn't care ya wouldn't mind even if I did still fuckin' want yer traumatized ass. That attitude 'f yers 's just fer fuckin' show ain't it?" He huffs, averting his gaze. Away from the smoke, away from any scrutinizing eyes. His voice lowers to barely a mutter "Ya think yer such a hardass-- Still a terrified fuckin' kid from the Maggots' nest"
He scoffs, emitting a puff of smoke.
“Sorry I’m not turned on by someone wanting shit I can’t give them. I mean, fuck. And sorry for trying to protect your feelings.” Is that even it? Maybe he can pretend so. So hard that he believes it. It’s true, he doesn’t want Renji to hurt. Or, he didn’t. Not until now. Now he almost wishes he had gone to bed with him, only to kick him out in the morning, their circumstances unchanged.
“You know what, man, you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” He speaks with his cigarette still hanging from his lips. “Don’t bring that shit up to me like you knew me then. Like you were there.” He stands up, groaning at the difficulty of it. His head swims and his knees ache. “We’re tying to figure out what I want out of life? Maybe I just want to be left the fuck alone,” he shouts, pointing to the door with his cigarette. The burning is getting close to his fingers now. He wants to put it out on his own skin. Or Renji’s. But he’s not that far gone, even if he is pissed off. “You don’t know shit about me. I don’t even know what you saw in me in the first place, because this--” He smacks a hand to his own bony chest, and with the other hand, gestures to the dismal state of his living quarters. “--is it.”
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