#yeah that's enough tags methinks

[nonhumanresources]

Late Night Snack

A while back I drew a dragonair who lives inside of a slushie machine. I loved the idea and eventually ended up with Ryuukah, a slime dragonair made entirely out of some kind of sugary candy sludge. Here's their backstory, alongside their friend Bailey!

This one is a personal favorite of mine. I think I did a good job getting down personalities and making them properly serious while still keeping the topic the absolute opposite of that. I had been doing mostly story-related TF at the time and I decided to indulge in some utterly ridiculous and excessively detailed transformation scenes because I am normal about certain topics. So, fair warning that it's dumb, but that's where I thrive, so it also happens to be some of my better writing.

Summary: Two urban explorers find out the hard way why you should not break into an abandoned Sinclair and drink strange glowing liquids.

What to expect: TF and TG (female to nonbinary). Lots of slime, goofy conversations between deeply unserious friends, and a little bit of crime.

Length: 7.9k words.

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Rika leaned against the gas pump, lips parted in a grimace, chewing on a toothpick. Her expression spoke of hard times. The creases in her face were deep canyons across its desert expanse, a simulacrum of the dusty ground she called home, cast in the harsh orange light of sunset. Her blonde hair was streaked with grime and pulled back against the nape of her neck. She spun the handle of the pump around a finger, flicked open the lid of her Chevy’s tank, and jabbed in it. 

The artistic illusion was only somewhat ruined by the pump nozzle dropping straight to the asphalt with a loud crack and the fact that the only thing that came out was dust and several spiders rather than gasoline. Not to mention that ‘sunset’ was just street lamps out by the road. Bailey raised an eyebrow at her, arms folded and foot tapping. 

“Done with playtime?” she asked. 

Rika gestured at the nozzle. “Clearly you weren’t imagining hard enough.” 

“I thought we were here to trespass.” 

“I’m here because my family has fallen on hard times during the Dust Bowl, and with my husband dead, I’m the only one supporting them. I’m filling the tank with the last of my money. I’ll have to pawn my mother’s ring to afford tonight’s dinner.” The orange light of fluorescent bulbs reflected off of Rika’s hand as she held it up, showing off a simple yet elegant diamond ring on one hand (that was really just a small band of polished stone). 

“Funny, I could have sworn that you were a scrappy young woman making her way in the big city for the first time, coated in grime from a hard day’s work on the farm and ready to protest.” Bailey waved her hands about, gesturing at, presumably, all the new-fangled high rises being put up by the day. What a strange time to live in, she seemed to say.

Rika smacked her forehead. “So THAT’S why!” 

“Why what?” 

Rika pushed off of the gas pump, the old plastic labels stuck to it crumbling beneath her touch, faded Sinclair green smearing on her trashy hoodie. “Why the pump fell, obviously. 30s Chevys have the tank inlet in a COMPLETELY different position than 50s models,” she explained, brushing past Bailey. “Hey, I thought we were here to vandalize stuff. What are you doing standing around?” 

There's your sneak peek! Rest of the story under the cut. If you prefer to read it on Google Docs, you can do that right here. As always comments, questions, and thoughts are always welcome! If people want it maybe I'll go add some author's commentary to the doc. Thanks for reading!

“Debating whether a crowbar or a Snickers would shut you up faster,” she replied, aiming an open-handed whack at Rika’s head. She ducked it, barely, and grabbed Bailey’s arm, pulling her towards the skeleton of the 6-Ten convenience store attached to the old gas station. Her friend let herself get pulled along, laughing. 

Gods above, Rika missed this. It had been AGES since they’d found a good dive. It was like no one went out of business these days, which was frankly just unfair. What were all the enterprising urban explorers supposed to do without abandoned places? She was positively wasting away. Fortunately, Bailey’s eagle eyes had saved the day once again, and within a few hours they were scouting out the abandoned Sinclair. It wasn’t really that old—two, three decades at most—but it appeared almost untouched, which was a rare commodity. This was just the thing they needed to get back into gear.

Rika and Bailey walked around to the back of the defunct convenience store, out of the dim orange light and into the darkness. They stepped up to an old employees only door, boarded up and spray painted over with dozens of tags. As one, they each pulled a crowbar out of their backpacks and swung it in front of the other, swapping them over to the other person. It was a ritual they’d come up with as kids and never quite dropped, despite all the other myriad handshakes and secret codes that had since fallen to the wayside. 

They worked in tandem, prying at the rusted nails until they snapped. Rika caught the first board when it popped off the door and set it on the ground carefully. Her clothes were quickly covered with splinters, but that was the reason for the old hoodie and torn jeans. Better to toss it in the garbage somewhere than go home looking like a cactus and have to pick all the splinters out later. She removed a particularly nasty chunk of wood from the crook of her elbow and stood back up, digging her crowbar into the next piece of wood, letting Bailey catch the next one. A few of the planks splintered into bits as soon as it made contact. How have these not disintegrated by now? Rika wondered, stacking the pieces into a neat pile. She laid each one down slowly, making sure to be as quiet as possible. You never knew who would be out and about at this hour. Of course, the sounds of nails tearing out of wood were already quite loud, but there was no need to make even more noise. 

Bailey popped the last plank off into Rika’s waiting arms. She set down her crowbar and tried the door. It was locked, of course, and she bent down to inspect the handle. 

“Think it’s too rusted out for a pick?” she mused, pulling a penlight from her pocket and shining it into the small lock. 

“Only one way to find out,” Rika said, reaching into her backpack once more. This time she pulled out a small plastic case. Inside was a set of lockpicks of various sizes and shapes. She grabbed two with clearly worn handles and snapped it shut, kneeling in front of the door and getting to work. Lockpicking wasn’t too hard, once you knew the theory; a set of pins kept the chamber from rotating, and your job was to get those pins to stick in their proper places. A torsion wrench kept them steady while a pick pushed them up and down, looking for that signature click. Simple in theory, less so in practice. Bailey waited with her back against the wall, keeping her eyes peeled for figures in the dark. 

This was what it was all about. A set of eyes watching the road, another focused on a lock. The constant threat of discovery sending a delicious chill down your spine. Deft hands working their magic. How had they gone so long without this? Rika relished it. They’d used to go urbexing all the time, a few years back. Sewers, tunnels, abandoned lots, construction sites, you name it, they’d searched it. Most weren’t strictly illegal, though cops tended to ignore that detail. Rika had learned to be careful, and despite the year or two without a jaunt in the dark, she hadn’t lost that skill. 

She didn’t really know why they’d stopped. It had been a few months before either one realized just how long it had been without an outing. There were only so many old houses one could break into before the magic wore off somewhat. Maybe that was it—too many trips all at once, and they’d just gotten tired. 

“You know, I think about how we got here sometimes,” she commented, glancing up at Bailey. Her friend raised an eyebrow at her. 

“The road?” she said dryly. 

“Not physically here,” Rika went on. “You know. Here. Doing this.” 

“If you wanted to second guess breaking and entering—”

“Stealing the Queen’s diamonds.” 

Bailey groaned. Rika grinned as her wrench suddenly twisted, the lock choking out specks of rust as it spun. 

“You first, Miss Bond!” she declared, pushing herself up to her feet. 

“I’ll leave a tiara for you to grab,” Bailey said, rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky I put up with your imagination, Lady Spy. Otherwise I’d leave you to the Royal Guard.” She tried to elbow Rika as she pulled the door open, the rusty hinges protesting. 

“I’d just come back for the sequel,” Rika declared, deftly avoiding the blow once more. Bailey shook her head and flicked on a much larger flashlight, slipping into the convenience store. Rika stowed her tools and grabbed her own, following.

The inside of the 6 Ten Quick Stop was, predictably, dilapidated. They’d entered into an employee lounge. Several hard-backed chairs and tables were scattered across the floor haphazardly, a few lockers sitting against one wall alongside a desk. Rika and Bailey quickly sifted through the few drawers built into it, searching for keys in case there were other locked doors, but the desk was cleaned out save for some paper clips and old balls of lint. A thankfully open door opposite to the exit led to a short hallway. There were bathrooms set across from the lounge, with the rest of the building down to the right. After opening a few lockers and finding nothing of note, they moved out into the hallway and into the convenience store itself. 

Shelves of assorted junk food, auto supplies, and random knick-knacks ran through the store’s center, with broken fridges and freezers along one side. The back wall held outdated soda fountains and coffee dispensers. Lights and panels hung from the ceiling like guts dangling from the chest of an enormous beast. Rika and Bailey stepped out of the hallway, avoiding the debris that covered the floor. It was a mix of animal droppings, trash, and glass shards, something seen in most places like this.

“Look at this stuff,” Rika commented, walking down an aisle. “This place really is old. I haven’t seen some of this candy since I was a kid.” Many of the plastic packages were still hanging up on hooks, though many had been knocked down by time and rats. She picked up a packet of Yogos, which had long since melted into a solid lump at the bottom of the bag. 

Bailey snorted from an aisle over. “I think putting this many bubble letters on anything should be a crime.” 

Rika laughed, replacing the Yogos and moving on. Many of the brands she recognized, still robed in their turn of the modern century garb, jarring fonts set against faded neon colors. Most of it was candy and junk food, of course. This place was a sugary time capsule. She gave the shelves of automobile oil a wide berth—the plastic cans had long since developed holes, leaving a noxious stain on the floor. The freezers had suffered a similar fate, calcified stalactites hanging from the bottom of the doors. 

Despite being nearly untouched, there were still signs of life. Some of the glass fronts on the fridges were shattered, especially those that used to hold alcohol. Those bottles were either gone or scattered across the floor. Bailey moved up behind the counter and reported that the cash register was broken and empty, most of the drawers ransacked. It was all typical miscreant behavior; the only abnormal detail was the lack of destruction. It seemed only a few people had set foot in here during the entirety of its abandonment. One or two windows had rings of glass on the tile below them, boards covering the holes left behind. Had no one else bothered to try and get in save those initial few? This wasn’t a busy place; maybe there just weren’t enough people around to care. 

Rika stopped her scan of the store, brows furrowed. She turned her light back on the ground. There, a trail of wrappers brushed to the sides led out of her aisle, towards the back of the small building. It wouldn't have caught her attention, save for one fact: each and every one was blue. 

She followed it, stepping carefully around a puddle of what looked like old cheese dip. Had one of the previous explorers had a fondness for a particular flavor profile? Why bother opening up this much old junk food? It couldn’t have all been edible, unless this was an especially old trail. The wrappers piled up against a counter on the back wall, and she raised her light up, looking for an explanation. There was even more plastic covering the counter, all surrounding an ancient slushie machine. A slushie machine that glowed. 

Rika nearly dropped her light in shock. She strode forwards, plastic crinkling underfoot. The glow was faint enough that their bright flashlights had masked it, and she had to aim her light away to properly see it. How did the thing still have power? Surely nothing in here had worked in years. But… no, the glow wasn’t coming from the usual lights hidden behind the plastic casing, it was coming from inside the tank itself. The slushie machine wasn’t anything special: rollers stained from years of use and subsequent disuse, plastic grimy, the paint flaking away. For some reason, though, it seemed to contain a pool of… something. It looked like some sort of mush, deep blue in color. It oozed out the nozzle, staining the tray beneath it. It was this strange ooze that was glowing, not the machine itself. The light was a soft blue, glimmering like some sort of strange bioluminescence. 

The sludge wasn’t perfectly smooth—it was full of bumps and ripples. Was that the fate of all the candy wrappers she’d seen? It was like someone had melted just about every piece of blue candy in the convenience store together inside the machine and tried to use it as a mixer. The result was a sort of lumpy mass of oozing sugar paste that was an incredibly vibrant blue. It was like an experiment gone wrong. Regardless of its strange, messed up origins, she still didn’t understand the glowing. Plus, it didn’t have a speck of mold on it, something that should have consumed this mess long ago. 

“Hey Bailey, come look at this,” Rika called. Setting her flashlight down on the counter so it could illuminate both the machine and the surrounding area, she fished around in the storage cupboard underneath it, pulling out a package of paper cups. Prying the lid off the slushie machine, she reached in and scooped up a bit of the sludge. Instead of a hard surface, it had a consistency like extra thick syrup, and she easily managed to gather a bit of goop in the cup. 

“What is that?” Bailey asked with disgust as she walked up to Rika. “You cooking up mad science back here?” 

“No clue,” Rika responded. “It was here already. Wanna try some?” She proffered the cup to Bailey. 

“Are you joking?” she spat. “Leave that stuff alone, it’ll probably kill you.” 

Rika grinned. She’d seen the wrappers of just about everything that had gone into the slushie machine—all of it was proudly nontoxic and full of preservatives. All of it that she knew of, at least; it could very well be full of rat poison. It could have even been a poor attempt at sugared moonshine, for all she knew. She somehow doubted it, though. Anyone who bothered to open up that much candy was clearly looking to eat something strange. “Come on,” she prodded. “It’s the Fountain of Youth! You could be young forever, free to break into buildings for the rest of time!” 

“If that’s the Fountain of Youth, I choose growing old.” Bailey crossed her arms. “C’mon, you did your food handlers permit. We both know that stuff has been out for way too long to be safe.”

Rika shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m living forever.”

Then, she tossed the cup back and downed the glowing sludge. 

She knew it was a bad idea. Clearly the stuff was long since bad, if it was somehow giving off light. However, with the emotional high of getting back out into the dust and debris of a new expedition, she was already feeling a little reckless, and so she couldn’t resist her absolute favorite pastime: messing with Bailey. 

The scream Rika got from her made it all worth it. 

The sludge itself was an intense, sugary slap to the face. She coughed, surprised. She’d braced herself for something rancid and rotting, but the sheer force of artificial sugar was nearly as bad. It was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted in a way that wasn’t necessarily pleasant. She coughed, spitting it back into the cup, but it clung to her teeth and tongue. She had to swallow a few clinging strands. 

Bailey was swinging her flashlight, yelling. “I can’t BELIEVE you’d be such an IDIOT! Do you even KNOW—” she ranted, grabbing a plastic water bottle out of her pack and tossing it at Rika viciously. Rika was only half listening. She fumbled the catch and the bottle smacked into her shoulder, bouncing across the ground. She snatched it up and twisted the top off, dumping water into her mouth and swishing it around. The cup had been dropped to the floor, abandoned. She spat water and slime onto the old tile, laughing. That only seemed to make Bailey more furious. 

“I am NOT paying for your stomach pump this time. Got it?” She fumed, accusing finger jabbed in Rika’s direction. 

“Fine, fine, I get it!” Rika relented, raising her hands in defeat. “Hospital bill is on me, if I even need one. Besides, you should have seen the look on your face, dude. That’s worth any bill.” 

Bailey actually growled at her. “Only you, Rika. Only you.” She folded her arms, the simmering rage cooling off somewhat. Throwing something at Rika had probably helped, even if it was ostensibly to assist her. “You’ve got garbage smeared all over your mouth. Wipe that shit off before it eats through your grin, god only knows how bad it is for your teeth.” 

Rika swiped her hoodie sleeve across her mouth, making sure to avoid the splinters in it. Bailey was right; she’d rubbed off a big glob of the stuff, making her sleeve glow blue. Her mouth was tingling slightly—probably the sugar giving her a whole spate of cavities. The sensation made her nose itch. She ran her tongue along her teeth, trying to dislodge any other bits of the weird glop, but something about her tongue felt off. It was like it had never properly felt her teeth before, and she shivered, pressing it against them to try and force the feeling away. 

“Not much else here,” Bailey sighed. “I’m ready to beat it when you are.” 

Rika nodded absently. She opened her mouth to say something, but the itch in her nose stopped her. She sniffed, rubbing it, but the sensation refused to eb. It built up more and more, the mint-like tingling in her mouth making it worse. She scrunched up her face, knowing where the feeling was heading. Indeed, it built to a crescendo in her sinuses, and she hunched forwards with a powerful ACHOO! The sneeze was dizzying in its intensity, feeling almost as if she’d launch her nose straight off her face. No time to cover it with an elbow; both hands flew to catch it, but they slapped against  something round and flat instead of the familiar, irregular curves of her face. It still felt like her nose and mouth, but they were swollen, misshapen. When she tried to pull them back, they seemed suctioned in place on her face, disconnecting with a small sucking noise. They were coated in the blue goop, clearly visible in the light of her flashlight, and strands of it stretched between them and her face.

“If this is another prank, I swear…” Bailey snarled, seeing the sludge in her hands, but the sight of Rika’s face made her peter off. Rika pretended to be an actor, with all her made up stories, but she hardly ever used actual props. Whatever had happened, it was enough to stop Bailey in her tracks, hand unconsciously reaching up to feel at her own face in shock. 

Looking around, Rika tried to find any sort of reflective surface. Her head swung heavily, its very momentum somehow altered with extra weight. Her eyes landed on the dark windows on the opposite side of the store—the  light of the flashlight left them impossible to see through, useful only as mirrors in the dark. Even in their layers of grime, she could tell that something was very, very wrong. 

Rika had a bright blue snout. 

It was quite large, taking up most of her face where her mouth and nose had previously been. The snout was squarish and rounded at the edges, slitted nostrils set on the front. The snout was slightly parted in shock. Its wide and blunt shape was most definitely reptilian. It reminded her of a ball python—a friend kept one as a pet, and she’d held it a few times. She tentatively wiped a finger across it, leaving a small divot where it disturbed the soft surface. She could feel the finger as it passed across the surface, sinking into it. It wasn’t only bright in color—it actually glowed, like the sludge in the slushie machine. 

“Wha…?” she tried to say. Before she could pronounce the ‘t,’ her tongue unfurled from the snout like a ribbon, drooping a few inches below her besnouted chin. It too was enveloped in a cerulean glow, and the end was now forked, like that of a snake. In her distant reflection, she could barely make it out. Bailey stumbled back, away from Rika, falling against one of the shelves of junk food. 

“What the hell is happening to your face?” she yelled. Rika could only shake her head in response; she couldn’t actually figure out how to get her tongue back into her mouth in order to talk. It just… wiggled, instead of doing what she told it. The whole snout felt strange to operate. It was like operating a long pair of tongs. She worked her face, snout twisting, hissing on accident as she managed to pull her tongue back inside and clamp her jaws shut. Her tongue and her snout. It wasn’t some strange thing that had attached itself to her face—her face had taken on an entirely new shape, now. 

That same tingling she’d felt in her mouth began to spread. She could feel her throat and stomach as if they’d been outlined in an x-ray, the strange sensation covering them like she’d swallowed menthol. It burned across her hands where they were slathered in blue slime.

Uh oh. 

Rika doubled over, holding her stomach, eyes watering. She tried to wipe the goop off, but no matter how hard she tried, it just seemed to smear across her clothes and leave them with a blue layer. She hissed again, still flexing her snout, trying to get it to do what she wanted. Bailey hovered nearby, face pale. She was finally able to squeeze out a few words through the snout. 

“Just… go get some paper towels!” Rika gasped, tongue flopping out again unbidden. Bailey nodded and darted towards the hallway and the bathrooms beyond. There probably wouldn’t be anything useful; Rika didn’t really care at the moment. Her stomach felt like a cold bonfire had been lit inside of it, icy flames licking the sides, sending chills through her body. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it was nonetheless incapacitating. 

Rika lowered herself to the floor, back against the wrapper-covered counter. The icy feeling had her whole body shivering, now, her snout locked into a grimace. Her fingers and toes clenched, both responding sluggishly. She tried to ignore the changes to her face, but the blue lump in the center of her vision made that impossible. 

Some detached part of her mind pondered the situation. It revised her earlier assumption: perhaps eating glowing gunk she scraped out of a defunct machine in an abandoned gas station convenience store hadn’t been worth the prank. 

Something felt off with her shoes. They were sturdy tennis shoes, well worn and comfortable. Rika pushed at the heel of one with the toes of her other foot, trying to slide it off, but she’d tied them tight—important for quietly sneaking about. You wanted shoes that wouldn’t slip from your feet like flip-flops. Unfortunately for her, that made them nigh impossible to shove off when you were wracked with goo-induced shakes. The discomfort quickly became pressure and pain, as if her sneakers were shrinking around her feet, compressing them from all sides. She winced, pressing them against the floor, trying to lessen the squeezing pain in any way she could. It built and built, nearly enough to make her cry out. Either her shoe had suddenly become five sizes too small, or—

Riiiiiiip-POP! A sudden sound brought blissful relief on one side. The top of her left sneaker was torn completely from the sole in an impressively loud display. She expected a regular, if squashed, foot to emerge, clad in her white and red socks. Instead, as the sole ripped free and bent out of the way, four round, blue toes emerged so fast that they ripped straight through her sock, its sorry remains stretched between them to maintain a tenuous grip. The rest of an enormous glowing paw followed after, nearly twice as wide as the shoes that had managed to contain it. The sole had to be almost as large as her whole face, bodying the remains of the shoe as it escaped its confines. It slapped wetly against the floor, pressed onto cool tiles. The toes were larger, sturdier, and her heel was stretched backwards, still hidden in the shredded shoe. It was clearly animalistic, built for movement. As it pressed against the ground, she could feel a thick pad swell up on the ball of her foot against the tiles, squishier than the bulk of the paw. 

All that happened in one shocking instant. Rika yelped, kicking her other leg in shock, and an almost identical shoe-demolition ruined her other sneaker and released a second, equally gigantic paw. She could feel every crack and divot in the floor beneath them as she pushed herself backwards, as if to escape her own feet. Her legs felt strange. With her heel so far from the actual paw itself, they clearly didn’t fit the general structure. 

Definitely not worth it, that ridiculously calm voice in her head said wryly. 

The poor woman wasn’t given time to dwell on her utterly ruined shoes or the paws that had brought about said ruination. Another pain sprang up, this time in her lower spine. It made sitting nearly unbearable. She rolled over, hands detaching from around her stomach so that she could hold herself up on her elbows and knees. Her tailbone ached. She clasped her hands together and pressed her forehead against them, panting, her odd tongue slipping in and out, her snout nose nearly against the floor. A part of her noted that her hands were now rounder and larger—paws. Again. That must have happened while she was distracted by her shoes exploding. 

She feared what this new pain might bring more than she felt the pain itself. If the last source of discomfort had utterly altered the anatomy of everything below the knee, what might happen with this one? Her paws pushed against the floor as her thighs and calves began to ache, similar to the start of a charlie horse. She lifted herself up off her knees, trying to straighten her spine, standing on the toes of her new paws. The angle was awkward with their shape, but she couldn’t bear to lower her rear again and put more pressure on her aching spine. 

From her upside down position, between drips of goop from her snout, Rika could see her legs. Her torn jeans had been loose before; now, they were like tights, stretched against the skin. Instead of that skin, though, blue slime pressed through the threadbare holes on her knees. They were especially tight right at the top, her hips visibly straining against the fabric, outlined in near perfect detail from what she could see. That was made all the worse by a strange pressure centered on her tailbone, where the pain was most acute. Unfortunately, unlike tights, jeans were not meant to stretch like this, and she was feeling that to the utmost degree. Her mind was in a haze, sweat (or was that more goo?) dripping off her forehead from the sheer strain, that icy tingling filling her body, paws digging against the floor as she tried to focus through it all. Through the maze of jeans and paws, eyes squinting nearly shut, she saw incredible, normal, terrified Bailey rush back out of the bathroom, holding a roll of crumbling paper towels. 

She was just in time to watch as Rika’s jeans were torn to shreds. It started at the top, where the seams gave way, wide gooey hips erupting outwards with an enormous tearing. The utter explosion of the seat of her pants triggered a chain reaction that tore each and every thread down the sides of her jeans, her thighs and calves bursting through the denim with their sudden girth, muscles clenched. She was overcome with dizzying relief, legs shaking slightly from a combination of exertion, the slimy material, and their bulked up size. The indents of the seams were visible for a few moments before fading into their gooey surfaces. The ruined fabric was left in piles on the floor, her legs now bare save for clinging threads and torn up shoes. The entire skeletal structure of her legs seemed to have shifted in the sudden explosion of freedom; her knees were a little lower, joints more pronounced, matching the strange position of her ankles. As a whole they looked much more dynamic, all angles rather than straight up and down, and she was standing up on her toes, rather than resting on her heels. Even when not in a position like she was holding, she doubted she’d be able to lower her heels down all the way to the ground.

Rika nearly passed out as her spine seemed to shoot straight out of her back, whipping outwards. Her vision swam, but she was able to watch as a tail nearly as thick as her head slammed to the ground. More importantly, she could feel every inch of it extending from beyond her back, sliding across the floor, entirely new nerve impulses hitting her brain like a truck. The pain had been this incredible mass being kept back by her pants and undergarments. Beyond it, Bailey’s moonlike pale face was now flushed a bright red. 

Oh, Rika thought deliriously. My ass is out, isn’t it. Sorry, Bailey.

She groaned, wanting to collapse but holding the position for fear of actually passing out on the floor. Her brain was short circuiting under a barrage of sensory information that it was entirely unequipped to handle. The sheer weight of the thing attached to her rear end made her tip backwards, butt smacking onto the ground. Watching the floor rotate out from above her perspective to underneath made her sick. 

Rika grabbed the shelf next to her. Her hand… paw… thing squelched as she gripped it. Pushing herself to her feet took enormous effort, operating their strange new shape, her cloudy mind wondering what she was even doing. Why not just lay down? It would feel so nice….

Yet, she stood. Grasping the metal with both hands, Rika stood. Her legs shook. The feeling of her larger thighs pressed against each other was yet another foreign sensation that she’d have to adjust to. Her hair hung around her in wet globs, covered in ooze, though this was somewhat darker than the rest. It was a stonelike gray, making her hair seem more like a mass than individual strands. She twisted, spotting Bailey through the gaps in her mussed up hair, who was edging closer warily, holding the paper towels out in front of her like a ward. Her shoes made sucking sounds with each step through the sludge coating the floor, centered around Rika herself. She tried to show off one of her lopsided smiles, but it looked more like a grimace. 

“Th… thanks.” She panted out the words, her voice odd in her own ears, deeper and more sinuous with the consonants. She couldn’t imagine how she must seem to Bailey. A monster, something insidious replacing her longtime friend. To add a final touch to the unsettling image, Rika’s hoodie drooped, slime appearing through the threads. The hoodie, along with the shirt underneath, literally slipped through her torso, dropping to the puddle of ooze below. Her stone ring plinked off her fingers and against the metal shelving she held. Her chest was flat and white, a contrast to the blue that coated the rest of her body, like the underbelly of a shark. “Uh. Oops.” 

Pushing past the obvious fear, Bailey actually proffered the paper towels. They were nothing, of course; Rika herself was changed from head to toe. A roll of paper towels disintegrating under the weight of their own age would do nothing but make a mess even in regular circumstances. Here, it was almost like a peace offering, a symbol instead of a tool. Rika did her best to stand upright and walk forward to accept the roll, useless though it was. 

She couldn’t even make it a single proper step. The coils of tail caught her paw as she tried to move, and she stumbled, arms flailing wildly. Bailey didn’t have a chance to run as the mass of slime careened into her, sending them both to the floor. Bailey only narrowly avoided cracking her head against the tiles, instead falling on top of a length of Rika’s enormous tail with a loud SPLAT. Rika felt the impact, but it didn’t hurt—there was strange pressure, but everything was so strange already that it wasn’t out of place. She fell directly on top of her friend with another loud slap, getting goo everywhere as the two impacted each other. 

She panted, snout barely an inch above Bailey’s nose. Her forked tongue sprang out and flicked the tip of her nose. Her friend looked more than strained—she was on the verge of manic, and Rika couldn’t blame her one bit. She had a beast atop her, breathing in her face, taking in her scent. Possibly sizing her up as some sort of prey. 

“Help…” Bailey squeaked. 

That was all the push Rika needed to break through her haze. She responded immediately, untangling her arms and pushing herself up. Her hair hung around the two of them, separating them from the outside world. The blonde was now totally smothered by the sooty gray, the distant light of her flashlight making it glow around the edges, where it was somewhat translucent. 

“Hey, I’m still here, see?” she said, voice strained and awkward. “Still Ryuukah.” 

She froze. Bailey, despite the terror, looked confused. “I… sure hope you mean still Rika.” 

“That’s… that’s what I said. Still Ryuukah.” She gritted her snout, working it. “Ryuukah. Ryuukah. No, reee-yoooou-kaa. No! Stupid snout, work with me here!” Even slowly pronouncing it, dragging out each syllable with careful precision, she couldn’t seem to get the sounds right. Every time she started, whatever she was trying to say slipped from her head like water through a sieve, replaced instead with that strange new name. Her tongue stuck out of her muzzle in concentration, sliding across Bailey’s cheek without her noticing. She felt like her brain was repeating like a scratched record. 

She knew it was wrong. That wasn’t her name. Her name was… gods. she breathed out through her nostrils, concentrating. You couldn’t just forget your own name. It was right there, right on the tips of her tongue. She just… had to… grab it….

Ryuukah. 

“Goddamnit!” 

Well, at least that particular word still worked. 

“Lick me again and I’m strangling you!” Bailey’s angry voice brought her back to her senses. Much as she wanted to continue struggling with her mind, there were more pressing things to deal with. Or maybe it just frightened her so much that she was determined to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t a fruitless endeavor.

“Sorry for having a crisis,” she shot back automatically. 

“Have it somewhere that isn’t laying on top of me!” Bailey demanded, her hands pushing at Ryuukah’s shoulders. They sunk almost half an inch into them, but didn’t pass through, and she was lifted upwards and away from Bailey’s face. Ryuukah sat back the rest of the way, and with some focus, she actually managed to pull all the goo with her. She wasn’t sure how she managed it—she was mostly just trying to think of it being off of Bailey, instead of smothering her. She grabbed her friend’s extended hands, pulling her upright as well, scooting backwards so that they were sitting a foot or so apart. 

The pair stayed there for a while, both breathing heavily. Neither one seemed to want to speak. The puddle of blue slime pulled back from Bailey as if repelled, leaving a clean spot on the floor around her. She rubbed her hands together, fear and relief mixing on her face. 

Finally, Bailey spoke. “It’s like… you know that feeling when you’ve rubbed lotion into your skin, and there’s barely any residue, but you can still feel it?” Ryuukah nodded, and she continued, holding up her hands. “It’s like that. Totally dry, but… softer? More oily? I can’t really tell.” 

The comment was unimportant, tangential. The feel of the goo leaving one's skin didn’t matter.  Yet, it felt easier to talk about that than anything else. Ryuukah grinned, the expression strange on her muzzle. “What, I turn into a monster and all I’m good for is lotion?” 

Bailey snorted. “That and making a mess.” 

“Oh, how sorrowful am I!” Ryuukah said with mock despair. “A strange slime creature, locked away in the dark basement, used only to harvest the most rejuvenating of lotions! Forever cursed to do nothing but produce overpriced health goods!” 

Bailey laughed and shoved at a coil of tail sitting near her right foot. “Yeah, right. You’d just seep through the door, Miss Creature.” 

“I don’t even know if I am a Miss anymore,” she remarked, gesturing at her flat chest. “Now I’m just a…” A sudden tickle overcame her nostrils once more. “Ah… aaa-CHOO!” Ryuukah erupted into another sneeze. As it hit, her ears, until then covered by her hair, whooshed outwards. They looked like wings, pure white against the gray hair. The weird wing-things wiggled as she tried to talk again.

“I—” 

Achoo! This one came out throaty, and she coughed and hacked as a massive sapphire as big as her fist emerged out the front of her throat with a sucking pop, resting atop her collarbone. She grabbed it, feeling it squish. Was it made out of gelatin? Regardless, it seemed attached there, unmoving. 

“I was trying to say that I—”

Achoo! Once more, a sneeze wracked her body. Her chest made a gooey whump as it sprung back outwards. It made one solid shape, as if she was wearing a shirt over a large chest, but she most certainly had a chest once more.

“God, nevermind, forget I said anything!” 

Bailey actually burst out laughing. Ryuukah laughed along with her, hands falling back to her lap. The sound was good. Normal. Something they both desperately needed. Even as it faded, leaving only the light burble of slime, the tension faded with it, and Ryuukah knew that it was time to stop skirting the issue.

Bailey sighed. “Idiot.” 

“I know.” 

“The biggest fool I have ever met.” 

“Bailey, I can’t even say my own name.” Ryuukah clenched her hands. That wasn’t quite true; her name had just been fundamentally altered in her own mind, which was both more upsetting and more confusing. “Trust me. I know.” 

Bailey sighed. “Okay, well, you deserve it. You don’t get a free pass just because you turned into a goo monster. You’re clearly some sort of snake, but I don’t really…” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, are you a Dragonair?” 

“Like the pokemon?” Ryuukah said incredulously. “No. No way. I have legs, that thing is a snake. How did you even make that connection?” 

“Explain the bling, then,” Bailey said, grabbing the end of her tail and holding it up, clearly showing off two enormous sapphires that matched the one on her throat. Ryuukah shuddered at the touch, but it wasn’t bad, just odd. The sapphires matched the one at her throat, though they were much larger. 

“Okay, fine! I don’t care about that right now.” She squinted and managed to wriggle her tail out of Bailey’s hands, partially pulling out of their grip and partially oozing through it. That was coming to her more naturally now. “Can we please focus on how I’m getting back to my apartment like this?” 

“You are not getting slime all over my car,” Bailey declared immediately. 

“I can’t walk!” Ryuukah retorted. “It’s like eight miles through the city, I’ll get the cops called on me ten times over by the time I’m halfway there!” 

“Then stick yourself in a Big Gulp or something! You made yourself into a mess, now you clean yourself up!” Bailey folded her arms, looking set.

Ryuukah clicked her tongue testily and looked around the store. She’d need a plus size body bag or something just to fit all her stupid tail and ass into if she wanted a solid container, and then it would be FAR too heavy for Bailey to carry. There wasn’t anything around that would help. Even if there WERE containers big enough for her to sit inside, they’d probably be long since useless for carrying liquids. Liquids. That’s what she was, now. No longer human—she was something else, something fluid. She wasn’t kidding when she said that she didn’t think she was female, even with the chest thing. When she looked inwards, trying to identify herself, what she felt she was, all she got was a taste of artificial blue raspberry flavoring in her mouth. 

Great. Not only had she turned into goop, she’d have to totally reevaluate her gender. And personal body image, she added, once again reminded of the sight of her pants getting demolished. That was a lot to take in about oneself. Bailey had gotten the full sight of it, too. 

Her eyes lighted on the slushie machine, sitting next to where she’d left her glowing flashlight. Something in her gut twinged. A connection, a sense deep inside. 

There.

She could feel what would happen already, and she didn’t like it, but that was her only choice.

__________

“Gods, you’re heavy,” Bailey wheezed. She crab-walked out into the cool night air, through the employees-only door that she’d shoved open with a large plank of wood. The slushie machine was clutched in her arms, power cord dragging along the ground. It was full to the lid with swirling ooze, blue white and gray twisting about inside. 

“Don’t call me fat when I’m basically just soup,” Ryuukah complained. Her voice came from the vibrating mass of goo that swished in the machine’s tank. She’d somehow managed to fit her entire body inside of it, despite the clear impossibility of size. The experience of slowly melting, body merging into itself, losing definition, had been utterly terrifying. She’d started with her paws, and those had easily vanished into the layer of slime still contained in the tank. Her legs had followed quickly, but her hips got stuck on the lid, and she needed to work herself back and forth to shove her ass down in. The huge, bulky tail attached to it didn’t help matters. Bailey had pointedly looked away during that part, but Ryuukah hadn’t missed the red tinge on her cheeks. At least the slime had covered up whatever had used to be between her legs; it was all a single smooth expanse now. The last dregs of hope she’d held, clinging onto her abandoned humanity, had shriveled up and died the moment her head had sunk beneath the surface. She still had some senses, but they were more focused on touch and vibration, and her brain didn’t know how to interpret them. She wasn’t blind—she was in a constant, dizzying confusion, which was far worse. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with being fat,” Bailey grunted. She hooked a finger on the passenger’s side door of her car, yanking it. “Second of all—urf—you’re a fatass like this, so shut up.” 

“Yeah, you would say that, wouldn’t you? I saw you staring!” Ryuukah accused. She managed to reform one of her eyes and an impression of a snout, glaring out at Bailey, whose cheeks were turning pink again. She slammed the lid on the slushie machine and swirled the whole thing, dunking the eye back into the mess of sludge while she buckled it into place. 

“Bring that up ever again and you’re going in the storm drain,” she hissed. “I am NOT letting you think that was hot. I was horrified.” 

“Wasn’t me that thought it was hot!” Ryuukah’s voice called. Bailey’s response was to slam the car door. She cackled, the sound coming out like bubbles popping on a boiling surface of slop. Bailey had never shown any signs of deviance like that before, especially not towards other… okay, not other women, but other feminine beings. This was a fascinating new development, and one Ryuukah fully intended to continue investigating. Her penchant for mischief was far from gone, now; in fact, it almost felt stronger. She was cracking jokes easily, and her mind felt looser, more relaxed, despite the stress of the night. It was like a constant, background sugar rush, but it only seemed to be getting stronger. Maybe the new body was having an effect on her personality. One couldn’t be made out of pure sugar and have one’s gender be blue raspberry and not have one’s personality change, she figured. Maybe she’d have to swap pronouns….

Bailey returned a short time later after one last check through the convenience store, opening up the opposite door. Ryuukah could feel it unlock and swing outwards. She tossed a sopping wet bundle of clothes and two backpacks into the back and climbed into the driver’s seat. 

“I’m not a thief,” she informed the bucket of slime on the chair beside her. “You’re the one stealing that machine.”

“And I’m a giant bird.”

“I am an accessory to crime. This is your idea.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuukah said, her oozing voice communicating dismissal. “Have fun explaining that one to the cops. ‘My sexy goo friend made me do it, officer! I couldn’t resist their charm!’” 

Their charm, Ryuukah thought. Yeah. Yeah, that feels good.

Bailey groaned, twisting the key in the ignition and smacking the side of the tank to get Ryuukah to be quiet. The car sped off into the night, headlights on low. The night had been chaotic, and Rika had been left behind in the hubbub, leaving as someone new. Perhaps that could be a good thing. Behind, the Sinclair gas station and its attached 6 Ten sat silently. It was lit only by the light of a distant, orange street lamp, mimicking the coming color of dawn. 

Bonus note for anyone who has read this far: Ryuukah's gender is canonically artificial blue raspberry flavoring. Also, if they go through the tap on the slushie machine it shifts them from anthro to a regular Dragonair. Also also they are a very hot dragon and I don't think Bailey stands a chance, the poor girl.

[emiplayzmc]

The fact that glisten is either genuinely unaware of of the fact Rodger very much intended to leave him, or is just lying to himself that he wouldn’t possibly do that because facing the idea that he was legit about to be abandoned is too much to bear. AUGH. He’s being so positive to a delusional degree throughout the whole thing, but it gives the vibes of someone who’s trying to hold onto the positivity because they literally have nothing else and need SOME hope. Because he can’t handle the idea of the small bit of hope he has being crushed. But all it’s doing is disturbing the others and making him more and more desperate. He’s just very clearly in denial about both that Rodger was going to leave without him, and about the whole situation in general because if he accepts the reality of the situation- that he will continue to be alone for the foreseeable future, that no one’s coming to save him, it’ll break whatever’s left of him. The fact he took the job given to him so seriously, and is just trying so hard to be accommodating :(( AUGH. This gets me. It feels like putting down a dog

HEHEHEHEEE Twisted Glisten in thick and heavy (emphasis on HEAVY) denial of what he's become and what his life is now my beloved, I am glad that hit :).

His mind is just *refusing* to comprehend the fact that he is *not* the same person he was before, and that most of what he's doing is just actively detrimental once he goes off the deep end (not realising his hands are digging into Rodger all the time, the constant constant denial and insistence that he can go with him and that he's fine actually nothing is wrong ever, the Twisteds are the problem here not him not ever him he's *fine* he isn't *one of them,* and what's intended to deter him and what are obvious lies are just forgiveable lapses of judgement or just straight up ignored from the other in favour of seeing them as the truth). If he actually stopped and thought about it for a moment out of Panic Mode / when he's not on the verge of snapping, he'd start spiralling once he actually realised what he's done (a little bit of that was shown but it was quickly shoved down and repressed by The More Important Thought ™️ in his head)

Heheee also loved the idea of him taking that sort of cover job Vee gave him just. Incredibly seriously. In his mind that just lodged itself in there: 'Yeah actually that checks out, I'm the sentient one down here and the Twisteds ignore me so I should be taking charge of Rodger's safety!' and then ESPECIALLY once Rodger is injured so badly does it take more root in his mind that's still swirling with ichor.

: )

[dragoncxv360]

Oddly enough this reminds me of when folks were arguing over whether Encanto or Turning Red had the better/more correct portrayl of generational trauma and it's like girls girls, they *both* portrayed it well, it was different circumstances and different cultures, therefore, different experiences and expressions of trauma (I loved both movies)

But yeah both Ruin and Nex have trauma and both are a wreck from it, and grief can make you do things you normally wouldn't. Obviously for the show the effects of grief are taken to a fantasy sorta level with wanting to kill and hurt those you love, so it's not a 1 to 1 comparison, but grief definitely fucks you up in ways that are hard to deal with. And it isn't linear, sometimes you skip over or repeat things in the stages of grief.

Anyways, sorry to derail a silly post into talking about grief lol

“Ruin WON’T end up like Nexus because UNLIKE Nexus Ruin actually CARES-“

“NO. Ruin’s SINGULAR HOBBY is SCREAMING at children and DESTROYING dimensions-“

“Ruin has TRAUMA. Nexus never had that. He ONLY ever cared about POWER, he POPPED into EXISTENCE with a thirst for power in ONE hand and an urge to hate everyone in the OTHER-“

Girls, girls, your problematic faves are both pretty -

[eldest-of-katts]

It's been a while since I got into something intensely enough to make me ill. I need to find some insect limbed anime boys to lose my shit about or some pinkie pie esque bubbly animated lady for me to base my mental well-being on soon or I'll return to my previous form (bored enough to start dozens of projects but too understimulated to finish them)

[gorboble]

Spoilers for Project: Eden's Garden Chapter 1

Thinking about Tozu's tea time. I've seen like nobody talk abt it

The main topic here is sheep. 'Sheep' is a common term for people who blindly follow the crowd without question. Yeah, who else to call 'sheep' than the cast? Most people blindly followed Wolfgang, and when they saw him being opposed, they immediately shot down and ostracized said opposition.

The mob mentality is STRONG with this cast, and Tozu knows how to fuel and exploit that to a terrifying degree. He knew how to get them to turn on Eva even more than they already were so he could tempt and trap her with the traitor role. And he did it so flawlessly, when he said "yea Eva inspired me for this motive" everyone seemed more eager to believe him and dogpile her rather than the man trying to get them all to kill each other.

What are sheep good at, if anything?

Most humans, and some sheep, would respond with a resounding "Absolutely nothing!"

"Sheep cannot create art, or invent medicine, for goodness' sake, they can't even perform music!"

"Their limited speech and quadrupedal locomotions prevents them from reaching the heights of humans. They're practically glued to the lower echelons of the food chain."

"No matter how hard sheep may try, they will never be anything more than their number tags."

I honestly have nothing for these lines. The best I can come up with, the 'and some sheep' bit refers to Damon and his "they just let anyone in" attitude towards the other ultimates. He himself said he sees some talents as just niche fixations. "The sheep don't contribute to society. Even if they're the best at this thing, they're still just glorified hobbyists. The bottom of the barrel when it comes to ultimates."

moving on

I can't say I like that answer. Too pessimistic for me.

Plus, what of the sheep who still try?

The sheep who realize their fate, but continue to challenge it all the same?

That they can be so determined to prove their worth when humans have all but deemed them microwaveable meals...

Methinks he's talking about Eva. She tried to be more than just a math nerd. She has so much else going for her, and she's tried to pursue other things, even if her talent just makes her a target for ostracisation. She tries to escape and defy her label as a mathlete, even if it means putting others at risk.

Also, "realize their fate, but continue to challenge it all the same?"

Eva concluded that she'd be the first to die as a victim, and so she acted against that. She was also practically forced to kill as the traitor, otherwise, she would just die first Period. She realized her fate as the first to go, so her way of challenging that was to kill Wolfgang.

Tozu puts this kind of sheep in a positive light, probably because Eva initiated the killing game while everyone was against her, and fought tooth and nail to try and escape her fate. He doesn't like it when it's said that sheep are good at nothing, and they'll be nothing more than their number tags no matter how hard they try. He has seen and even encouraged a sheep to try her hardest to escape her fate, and it worked. Even if it was horribly tragic.

Tozu sees the cast as sheep, and he wants to do anything he can to prove that, if desperate enough, then even sheep will try and fight against fate.

I'll admit I spent all of my FTE's with Eva since she is just hands down my favorite character and i wanted to learn more about her. And a lot of the biblical imagery is lost on me (I know Sheep play a big part in the bible), so I may be missing a LOT here. But these are my thoughts on Tozu's Tea Time since it seems nobody else was willing to talk about it.

[ace-does-stuff]

so, why'd ya do that?

summary: in Shadow's defence, Sonic should be able to tell when he's bluffing

tags: sparring, cafe meetup, chattin' it out, Amy and Sonic are roomies

authors note: @ohposhers @aethiriarts so i wrote some sonadow and you're are the sonadow fans in my dm's. it turned out a little bit mid methinks, but fuck it we ball and send it off the sonadow nation.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58263085

"You wanna kiss me so bad," Sonic taunted in spite of the blood that had made it's way to his lips from a fierce punch mere moments ago.

"What if I do?" Shadow snapped back.

And holy fuck that was not supposed to be the response that Sonic got for his smug remark.

He's pretty sure that it's visible the way that his mind crashes, a blank look sort of creeping onto his face. Wild way to respond to that. He's never ever had anyone say anything like that to him before, usually it gets him another punch to the snout.

But that?

Not that.

The grip on his shoulder presses down again, forcing quills into dirt and it hurts. But it jolts Sonic back into reality, he stares up at Shadow and finds a sharp gaze searing into him.

"Well?" Shadow said, a low growl vibratory on his voice.

Sonic smirked, trying to regain his footing, "Then do it, coward-"

And, well, maybe Sonic should've expected Shadow to actually do it. He isn't usually the type to bluff. It still leaves Sonic absolutely dumbfounded even as he watches Shadow rear back and wipe the blood, Sonics blood, off his lips with the back of his hand.

They're supposed to be fighting right now.

Not supposed to be doing whatever it is that Shadow just did.

Still, he stands up like nothing happened, "Good match."

Sonic takes a full moment to register the words and give a response, gathering his composure to come to sit up. He still struggles to be coherent, "Shadow- wait. I. What."

"Our sparring session is over, I have to go do some real missions," Shadow said, he spat the words with some form of bland venom. Not quite aggressive or disappointed or anything really, just flat and firm.

"Could you at least tell me why you did that?" Sonic asked, shocked exasperation on his voice as he spoke.

"You told me to," Shadow said, "Same time, same place, next week?"

"Well, yeah obviously- you still didn't answer my question though." As he spoke he ambled over to Shadow.

"I did, if you didn't want me too you shouldn't have put the offer out there," Shadow snarked back, "Now please, let me do my actual job."

Sonic retracts himself, hands raised in surrender, "Be on your way, my good fellow."

And in a flash of green chaos Shadow is gone.

That leaves Sonic to contemplate by himself.

Man what the fuck Shadow?

-/-/-/-

"Hey, Amy, what does it mean if a guy kisses you?" Sonic asked over dinner.

Amy nearly choked on her own spit, "A guy kissed you?!"

"Yeah-"

"Who was it?" That exuberant glee she held in her youth has returned tenfold at the knowledge of her friends latest affair. Not an affair though. It was just a kiss, to her knowledge. Still, excitement courses through her.

Sonic waved off her statement, "Nu uh, not telling."

"Then I won't tell you what it means," Amy said.

"Alright, that's cool, I'll go ask Rouge instead," Sonic said, a bit of a huff on his voice.

"You know she'll ask the same question." Came the singsong response. The pink hedgehog gives a pleased hum as she places aside her plate to the coffee table and reaches to turn down the tv. "I'll explain it to you if you want me too."

"I'm not gonna tell you who it is-"

"Don't worry, I have a hunch. I'm generous anyways, I let you live here for free."

Sonic rolled his eyes.

"It probably means he likes you, if he asked then you might like him back because you said yes."

"Well I thought he was joking."

"That does complicate things- do you like him?"

"Obviously, but it's complicated!"

That gave Amy pause.

Well shit.

This might be a little bit harder than she expected.

"You like him enough to let him kiss you, so that means something. You're one interesting hedgehog."

"Okay, so how come my best friend kissed me?"

"Is he your best friend? Do you think he feels differently?"

Sonic can't quite answer firmly, he doesn't fricking know. Shadow isn't exactly an open book. Still, "Of course he doesn't!"

Amy catches the hesitation, "You should go talk to him about it, see if he's caught some feelings for you."

"There's no way that he has!"

"You can never be too sure about feelings, they're fickle, Sonic."

"What would you know about it?"

Amy gestures vaguely to the apartment, "We went from me chasing you around with a hammer to living together as besties- that seems pretty fickle to me."

Sonic huffs, "Fine, I'll ask him about his feelings."

A grin creeps onto Amy's face, "Yay, now eat your dinner! You've got a mission tomorrow and we cannot have you drop unconscious on the spot."

"Alright, alright."

-/-/-/-

"A coffee date?" Shadow asked, just to make sure he heard correctly.

"Yeah, just to chat!" Sonic answered with as he slammed down his heel on a badnik, metal shredding under the force.

Shadow bashes his elbow into a different badnik before speaking, "I'll consider it."

"Okay great! How does tomorrow sound?" Was Sonic's response to the notion.

"How about we work out a time and place after this mission?"

-/-/-/-

Shadow is used to Sonic being late, so it's very much a surprise to see the blue blur waiting patiently for him at a patio table with a mug in hand. He's tapping his foot anxiously on the ground and it deterred most of the other patrons. He perks up the second he sees Shadow, a smile quickly rising to his face as his postures straightens.

He takes a seat across from his friend and finds a cup of iced water sitting in front of him.

Sonic slides over a plate with half of a croissant, cleanly sliced in half.

Shadow raises a brow.

"I thought you might enjoy it, so I saved ya half," Sonic said as calmly as he could despite nerves wracking his form.

Shadow takes the plate, "Thank you." He breaks off a piece of the croissant before speaking again, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Why did you kiss me?" Sonic asked.

Shadow shrugged, "I was given the chance and I wanted too, why else?"

Sonic just sort of stared at him, "That's seriously it?"

"You wouldn't take a hint any other way," Shadow said, a scoff of disappointment on his voice. He knew Sonic was dense as a brick but this? This is a whole other level.

He stares at Sonic as he processes the words.

"People already think we're dating, Sonic- there are rumours flying around town, Sonic," Shadow said, leaning forward just a bit.

"What do you mean there are rumours?" Sonic questioned.

"Do none of your friends keep you up to date on that sort of thing?" Shadow asked back.

Sonic shook his head, "None of them gossip."

"Rouge is good for that sort of thing, she knows everything," Shadow said. He broke off another piece of croissant, "But I kissed you to get it into your thick skull that I like you- and yet you still had to come ask me to confirm it for yourself. You really are an idiot."

"Huh." Sonic pauses, "I guess Amy was right about you liking me-"

Shadow refrains from barking at Sonic and first falters to swallow his bite of croissant, holding up a hand as if to say one moment. Then he wipes his lips of crumbs and speaks, "You told Amy!?"

"In no uncertain terms! I didn't say it outright, I just asked her for some advice."

"That girl has never once been in a relationship, how would she know anything!?"

"It was her or Tails, I think I chose right, Shads."

Shadow sighs, "Look, just, do you like me back?"

Sonic shrugged, "Yeah, 'course I do. Might be fun to date you while we're at it."

"You are so annoying- fuck, I can't believe I love you."

"I can't believe it took you so long to say it."

"I can't believe you had to ask me outright to realize how insane the tension between us is."

"Fair point."

Shadow groans in annoyance, "You are, so dumb."

Sonic leans in a bit, "Yeah, I might be." He's smirking, "Wanna go spar?" He quirks a brow that's loaded with implications.

Shadow chuckles, "After I finish my croissant, we can spar all day and night."

[shrimpothy]

sometimes i refer to myself in the 3rd person

and by sometimes i mean kind of a lot

PLEASE STOP ASKING ME FOR DONATIONS I AM BROKE, UNEMPLOYED, AND DISABLED 😭😭😭

i would if i could but i can’t so instead i just feel like shit about something entirely out of my control, especially bc of my moral scrupulosity issues ;-; so pls just respect that :[[

🦐 more under the cut 🦐

18 ~ don’t care who interacts as long as they don’t make me uncomfortable n shit :] and even then i’m willing to just like…talk about it lmao. so yeah

explaining tags:

this is a certified shrimpothy post — original shrimp thoughts/not a rb, etc. (note: some original posts won’t be tagged with this, usually just bc i don’t deem the post important or interesting enough)

there are many benefits to being a shrimp — my dumb take on the ‘benefits to being a marine biologist’ meme. funny or positive things relating to either myself or real shrimp lol

there appear to be some disadvantages to being a shrimp — a gag of the above. basically just the opposite of that tag.

shrimp says some dumb shit — pretty self explanatory methinks

shitpost? more like shrimppost — mostly shrimp originals that are shitposty or shitpost adjacent

shrimp says it’s time to get unconscious — a reference to @/i-am-a-fish ’s post of the same verbiage wherein fish (or in this case, shrimp) is tired, about to go to sleep, etc etc etc and anything else that may elude or be relevant to sleep/sleeping/sleepiness

(these pronouns are getting out of hand /j ref (if you use those pronouns or something similar just know that shrimp loves you /gen p))

note - it may be relevant to add that shrimp is a chronically fatigued insomniac so there may be mentions of disability or disorder induced exhaustion and whatnot under this tag as well. shrimp also sometimes sleeps as a coping mechanism, has an ever fluctuating sleep schedule, and may tend to keep odd waking hours. basically shrimp is, to his very core, eepypilled.

shrimp is too lazy to add the rest of the tags at the moment…but he will at some point

find shrimp elsewhere:

shrimpstagram

shrimptube

[sanderssidesthehouse]

Remus is my favorite side and I am collecting people's opinions about him. For the bingo?

-Birch

Hiya, Birch! Consider my opinion collected!

Circle size represents how much I resonate with or feel confidently about an answer.

Going to address the not liking him as a person (vs adoring him as a character) before I go any further. Just like, if I knew a person who acted like him irl (which would probably be a neglected 13 y/o) I wouldn't really like them. Wouldn't necessarily hold it against them, but understanding someone and/or wanting to help someone is not the same as liking them. Sides aren't exactly comparable to people, though.

I think about Remus so frequently. My absolute favorite we've seen of him was WTIT. It definitely gave us more to work with, particularly with how much he hates being ignored. Bc like, yeah he's a side and he needs to be able to do his function, but his function and subsequently himself have been repressed which has warped everything and tbh I'd act like that too.

I NEED him and Roman to work together bc wtf. I need them both to be mad bc like we're going to have to address at some point why there are two sides that manage Creativity? Um? But skipping past that bc we are where we are, they should be able to work together. Also going to link a post I made about creativitwins bc it's too long to quote here which has more of my thoughts about Remus's job as part of Creativity.

Remus is literally an alarm. He shows up when things are bad... And makes them worse, but!!!!! He's a clue to get to the root problem. Also, as someone who suffers from disturbing and upsetting intrusive thoughts, I'd love to see dealing with Remus through creation, bc honestly him having a hold of Creativity is perfect. One way to get through intrusive thoughts is the mindful meditation technique, another is by ejecting them via art/writing. I think that would be fun.

Some people think Remus is annoying. And? As is his right? No, but seriously, he's been neglected up until we see him appear, suppressed except for where his influence slips out, honestly, he could be MORE annoying if he wanted. Get their asses.

One characterization I see people give him is that he doesn't care, but if nothing else, there is one thing he absolutely has to care about: c!Thomas. I mentioned this in my unreliable narrator post in relation to Janus, but it stands for all of them: “Sides of Thomas will always seek to perform their duties to help Thomas.” I don't believe the sides can purposely seek to hurt c!Thomas. They're not people, they're part of a person.

Speaking of that post, I'm just going to copy paste my Remus paragraph bc I can:

And last we have Remus. This guy. Beautiful boy. All about being brutally honest except he’s just not lying. Except for when he is. I swear he just says stuff recreationally and like, me too, but at least I admit it. He’s got that Brennan Lee Mulligan 'I will die on any hill’ vibe methinks. The problem is that he says the actual profound truths in the same tone he does the shitposts so no one takes it seriously. And I swear to you this is on purpose, I can’t prove it, but tell me honestly you don’t think that’s something he’d do. Rat bastard.

Idk if I've said everything I wanted to. I've probably said enough for this post, though. As always, feel free to tag on or ask questions or whatever else!

[still-nix-d-goffic]

10 songs with names in the title challenge.

Thanks, @tinx-methinks for the tag! You can see her post here.

Let me know if you recognize one of these.

In no particular order here goes:

Ruby, Don't Take Your Love to Town- CAKE (original by Kenny Rodgers.)

Donny Darko got the Draco - B Train, Trippy the Kid

(Marie's the Name) His latest Flame - Elvis

Donatella - Lady Gaga

Half Jack - The Dresden Dolls

Bizzy Lizzy - Clann an Drumma

Kathy's Song - Apoptygma Berserk

Boris the Spider - The Who

Bruce Campbell - Psychstick

Christian Says - Tones on Tail

And an honorable mention from my favorite band (and cause I'm not sure aliases count for the challenge lol.)

Pogo the Clown - Dog Fashion Disco

Now for the hard part:

@hare-majesteit-aurelius, @bayousexual, @unwontedfemme, @firearmwitch, @alivewiththe-glory-of-love, @yuki--0nna, @esotericdeath, @x-cxnspxrxcy-x, @peaachyleaf, @thatgirlfromhotelcalifornia

Yeah that's right, I'm gonna make you all sorry for interacting with my posts enough I know your handles, mwa ha.

[todayisafridaynight]

Sorry For The 500 Unrelated Asks I haven't mentioned anything about having them before methinks but I am pretty sure Summit triggered a manic episode... lol... that's what was going on when I was sending you essays every day too... BUT ANYWAY there's an alt version where Jo's on the far left as Bartholomew in The Last Supper and he's smiling there as well... SICKENING

But this is still my favorite configuration for being Fucking Goofy. Especially because in the alt Chitose is completely hidden by Kiryu (as Thomas usually is by James) but you can see enough of Jo to to see he's leaning over Kiryu with his hand on his back/shoulder. Like I know Chitose has a smaller frame but they could've angled it lol... also iconic for grouping The Homosexuals In Primarily Black Getup together (SO EXCITED to take Chitose to the strip club)

Also while it is Miserable to cast Kiryu as the guy who is the first to be martyred it is really funny to cast Jo as the guy who didn't believe Jesus when he was resurrected when he's presumably the reason Ichi "came back from the dead" in the first game... And Is Also Currently Blasting Kiryu On Twitch Dot TV For Coming Back From The Dead. Anyway Ichiban Kasuga suffered more than Jesus in my opinion

SPEAKING OF PRIMARILY BLACK GETUP I know this is the most basic fit imaginable but they're matchinggggggg

In All Fairness theyre not TOTALLY unrelated: summit DID just happen so discussion is reasonable. plus Not To Sound Obsessive you've been a lil MIA from the inbox and tags so me thinks its ok to send an ask or 500 :]

but YEAH i saw that.. so rare to see him Not in distress or ready to kill someone. Is He Healing that's to be determined but he's smiling more without anything immediately bad happening so.. that gotta mean SOMETHING

about the pic and positionin.... lol. rgg's assigned jo to have beef with people who keep coming back from the dead </3 fair nuff for a dude who used to work under a man with The Assassin as a title.

[stoportotouch]

i should clarify about this tag. getting somebody Zonked while they were in active labour was... a very victorian preoccupation, and actually what Vicky Herself did with her eighth child. (she, as a sidenote, loved her children but hated being pregnant.) this was done with chloroform, of... well, of chloroform soaked rag fame.

what they're doing that IS unusual is... really having either of the Other Dads in the house at all let alone little being in the room when the kids are born (not irving, as we have discussed). generally papà would fetch the midwife and then bugger off.

THAT BEING SAID. in hodgson's case (since he's from a rich family), papà might in fact have been at least in the next room if he wasn't ushered out. (ditto irving.) it's little who would be like. "yeah my dad did not see any of us until we had had a bath and been dressed and fed after we were born" (if dad was even on shore when they were born).

irving is hyperventilating into a paper bag for the entire last month +9 days. doubly so when hodgson is like. "right. enough of that, methinks" before nine days after james is born and gets up. (this being the point at which a new mother was supposed to remain in bed until.)

also i was going to say something about Victorian Advice On The Raising Of Baby. but all the advice quoted in this is just making me make the most pitiful faces. WAH.

[quibbs126]

So I said I’d be scrapping the pre-established characters for the fusion project, but I still wanted to draw the concept going around in my head for their new fusion, and I really liked how it turned out, and I just wanted to show it

I’m making a whole page with these two (albeit very slowly), so I didn’t need to make this a separate thing, but I’m impatient and wanted to show off this design I made this morning because I actually like how it turned out

As said in the notes, still unnamed character was only there so that you’d know who the two characters being fused look like. Though I haven’t actually worked on redesigning “unnamed” yet (god he needs a name), though that’s what I’m currently working on, so the design may be obsolete. I was just designing the fusion based on what I remembered his last design being

I think he may look too similar to unnamed, but whatevs, I kind of like how he turned out. And maybe I also think that because he looks autumn colored, and it’s October

I probably could have made the nose triangular facing down instead of up, would have worked better as a fusion methinks. Also probably could have made the ears shorter, but with the side bits I didn’t know how else to show he has them

He was also supposed to have both grey and yellow in his eyes (Sylvan has grey eyes), but the grey blended too much with the skin tone, so I just stuck with yellow. Think it helps the autumn theme though

I gave him the orange-ish hair because as I mentioned in the tags of the post where I asked what to name the unnamed smoke elf, his natural hair is actually red and wavy, his hair just looks black and oily due to severe neglect, and I wanted the fusion to reflect that. The image in my hair was strawberry blonde, but he ended up being ginger instead. Ah well, I still like it

But one thing I really liked was adding the black fade at the end of his hair. I don’t know why, I just think the fade works well

The thing around his neck is supposed to be a fusion of Sylvan’s cape and unnamed’s tied down coveralls that he’s supposed to have, though I suppose logically I don’t understand how that works into a cape. Ah well, it was just a concept, the proper outfit can be decided later once I finalize unnamed’s new design

I also gave him a beauty mark since I thought at the time that could be a way to combine Sylvan’s freckles with unnamed’s non-freckles, but I also realize I could have just given him freckles regardless. But ah well, I think another thing was not having enough room for freckles on the design

Now a few other things about the fusion design. For some reason, in my head I imagine the fusion himself to be a bit younger in appearance than either fusee, though I’m not sure why

And also, the first thing I thought of for their fusion was Sylvan’s werewolf form coming into play, and basically in their fusion, its werewolf form would be made entirely of smoke with glowing (probably yellow) eyes, and with pointier and longer ears than Sylvan. It’d also be frequently bearing a large smile and would be much faster than Sylvan, and probably more enthusiastic in fighting and less restricted. Also, it can dissipate into smoke and then reappear elsewhere. I just think the idea’s cool

But yeah, I just wanted to share this

[eleasis20]

I found it! I found it! The poser is zoneofsmites it's under the bg1 bg2 and bg3 tags among others, posted September 3rd of this year. Spoilers, of course. A long readmore, too.

this one??

cos yeah.. methinks abdel fucked the timeline a little...

i guess we need to invent a Bhaalist resurgence & at least one priest who manipulated Viekang into killing Gorion's Ward.

it would've made for a better backstory for The Dark Urge in 3 tbh since his timeline is fucked too (born from Bhaal's flesh before Bhaal is ever resurrected, remade the cult of Bhaal & began commiting serial murders in Baldur's Gate 5 years before Abdel is murdered, was committing said murders while Abdel, a Bhaalspawn, is the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate.. yeah he needed a bit of reworking tbh).

If his whole reason for existing, and being a pure creation of Bhaal, was to use the leftover Bhaalspawn to resurrect Bhaal. tho even that has issues bc Durge is born before Bhaal is resurrected, and as the poster said, not enough of Bhaal's essence was left to resurrect him.

Also Sarevok's daughter Helena & granddaughter/daughter Orin is also a little weird timeline wise but the dates are even less solid that The Dark Urges'.

I presume Sarevok concieved Helena post-bg2 after he'd been resurrected bc he's human, and to my knowledge shapeshifters/doppelgangers (whatever Orin is supposed to be?) share a similar lifespan to humans as well.

which.. also brings up problems bc wasn't Sarevok resurrected with the understanding that he no longer had Bhaal's essence? How did Helena & Orin inherit the Bhaalspawn status if Sarevok himself wasn't considered a true Bhaalspawn anymore?

idk but yeah this makes sense now. or at least, i get why it doesn't make sense lmao

[borom1r]

The OG post seems dead but the full meme is in dm because Link so uhhh for both brothers ig?? Hope things get less shitty soon friend 😭🤞🏽🫂

THANK UUUUU there has been so much personal stuff going on that im not gonna get into on Tumblr Dot Com but im ready for it all to be done + today is gonna be. HRM. interesting at best

edit: forgot to link the fuckin meme like a gremlin. anyways, link

Boromir time 🩵🤍

🏳️‍🌈lgbt+ headcanon

gay gay homosexual gay

💌fluffy headcanon

THAT MAN GIVES THE BEST HUGS IN THE WORLD. back-cracking fuckin hugs. not afraid to show his love thru physical touch either. picks Faramir up + spins him around in a hug whenever he gets the chance. either of them might die any fucking day so goddamn it he's going to hug his little brother like crazy

💔angsty headcanon

emotionally stunted king. raised w/ the knowledge he would die for Gondor. as a soldier or as steward, he's dying for this fucking country. so his own wants? his desires? emotions? needs? those don't matter :) haha what do you mean they uh. they should matter? what??? nahhh....

🧸 hurt/comfort headcanon

Boromir Lives i do think he loses significant feeling/range of motion in his arm after gettin turned into a fuckin Gondorian pincushion. thankfully Aragorn's hands are the hands of a healer + he's happy to help massage away any aches/tightness

🪀silly headcanon

Théodred is endlessly frustrated that Boromir's hair is not long enough to braid properly. Boromir refuses to grow his hair any longer. this is a constant (joking) argument between them <3 (Théodred fully "your hair is literally the only way anyone would know you're not a true Rohir. grow it out!!" + Boromir "mm.. tempting")

💤sleep headcanon

used to sleeping lightly + functioning on the bare minimum as a soldier but in a Boromir Lives scenario i do think he sleeps like a fucking LOG when he finally adjusts to not being in constant danger lol

✨a ship i like with this character

Aragorn/Boromir for Painfully Obvious Reasons, methinks. also partial to Boromir/Théodred

🔪a ship i Don't like with this character

look, man. the amount of Boromir/Faramir fics I’ve seen. that’s his whole ass entire biological brother. 😒

🎃something i think they're afraid of

i mean painfully obvious but the loss of all the loves to the forces of Mordor

📦overall feelings about them

BITING HIM BITING HIM BITING HIM BITES HIM BITES HIM BITES HIM CHOMPS HIM SHAKING HIM AROUND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HES MY GUY THATS MY GUY FUCKING BITES HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

📢favorite thing about them in canon

HES SO. LOVING. i have waxed poetic abt Boromir + how deeply he loves + cares for things i don’t have it in me to do it again rn but that man is 90% love and i love him for it

🧨least favorite thing about them in canon

NONE? that’s my Special Guy? like yeah ig i cld be like ‘ooooouuuu his fall to the ring’ but that’s stupid bullshit and completely ignores the point that no one is above the temptation of the ring < which is why i prefer movie!Faramir + his temptation. stupid that he wasn’t tempted in the books like ily Fara but that’s bullshit

💬favorite line they've said

HRM well “have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets” ofc. my url for my Aragorn blog is “clear ringing” in Sindarin :3 (nellad ‘laen)

🔔unpopular opinion

do i have any unpopular boromir opinions??!? i think if u think he’s a villain ur wrong + will ignore any further takes. maybe “Boromir Is good” is unpopular in the broader fandom but I just don’t go there. I do not see it

🔊a song that reminds me of them

OAGH. asking me to pick just one. foolish. i have a ton of music in my tag for him on @nelladlaen so here r a choice few:

Magnolia — Baroness (heavy weight, one more soul / leaving flaming arrows / hold on, eyes open wide / it’s the curtain falling)

When Will The Wounds Ever Heal — Crom (my shoulders ache from the burden of the past / I thought that I could bear, yes I swear / it’s so hard to find the path that leads me through / the darkness that you left behind)

Shock Me — Baroness (this is an Aramir song to me. “in a dream / a great calamity / to stone my heart and firm resolve / and render nerves to steel” “a deep well of despair I found / the day my dreams came true” Aramir song.)

Eventide — Kamelot (we did not go quietly into the night / old friend, now it’s time for you and I / to wave our goodbye / I will be there waiting with a smile / when you arrive)

also does it fit his vibe specifically? no. but do I think a man groomed from youth to essentially sacrifice himself on the battlefield for his people, to be a Figurehead on a pedestal rather than a whole person with his own desires, deserves to listen to angry thrash metal way too loud for catharsis? Yes. so Hanged Man’s Revenge by Spirit Adrift

📝misc thoughts/headcanons (you can specify something not on this list or i can say whatever comes to mind first!)

i do need him carnally. me every time i think too hard abt Boromir son of Denethor, Steward-Prince + Captain of the Tower Guard

Faramir time!! 🪶🌲

🏳️‍🌈lgbt+ headcanon

gay trans man ^_^

💌fluffy headcanon

cat-bonks his forehead against Boromir when he's happy but nonverbal. autistic ass man to me

💔angsty headcanon

the man was covered in fuel and engulfed in flames he fully has burns at BARE minimum on his limbs/extremities…

🧸 hurt/comfort headcanon

look man i used to make back-alley top surgery jokes before i had my surgery + was gettin sick n fuckin tired with dysphoria. Faramir has absolutely made some miserable joke abt Boromir taking him out back + just lopping them off w/ a sword.

Boromir at least ran with it until he got Faramir actually laughing + distracted from the fuckin Horrors

🪀silly headcanon

he + Aragorn feed into each other's echolalia. its so bad. one of them picks up a phrase/noise + its never long before the other picks it up too

💤sleep headcanon

sleeps EXTREMELY lightly + wakes with the first light. even in times of peace, never gets out of this rhythm

✨a ship i like with this character

veryvery partial to Éomer/Faramir

🔪a ship i Don't like with this character

same answer as Boromir

🎃something i think they're afraid of

ahh.. thats an interesting question actually. i think there's a lot of sadness abt Faramir but not necessarily.. fear. perhaps losing Boromir? whatever he fears, he does not show it < he's already a better leader than his father lmao.

I do think he has nightmares about the pyre after. all of that.

📦overall feelings about them

honeg!!!!!!!! that’s my little brother!!!!!! < Aragorn kinnie voice

📢favorite thing about them in canon

HES SO DEEPLY GENTLE AND KIND WHEN OF ANYONE HE HAS THE MOST RIGHT TO BE BITTER AND COLD. HE IS A WISE MAN AND A STRONG LEADER AND MOST OF ALL HE CARES!!!!

🧨least favorite thing about them in canon

book!Faramir my worstie. u and ur middlemen shtick and the whole I’m Above The Ring beloved u are an entire Man don’t give me that BS. also unpack ur biases towards other races of men the Rohirrim don’t deserve this. least of all if ur gonna marry one 🙄

💬favorite line they've said

movie!Fara quotes bc i do love movie!Fara he's a special lil guy. two bc i can't rlly choose between them

His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem. You wonder what his name is... where he came from. And if he was really evil at heart. What lies or threats led him on this long march from home. If he would not rather have stayed there... in peace. War will make corpses of us all. — i feel like i love this quote for obvious reasons. ik this was expanded from Sam's internal monologue in the books but i do like Faramir having this line instead, showing again his compassion even in the face of such violence

Where does my allegiance lie if not here? This is the city of the men of Númenor. I would gladly give my life to defend her beauty, her memory… her wisdom… — this is my 2nd choice bc its such a like. such a good parallel of Boromir. or maybe not a parallel, but it ties so nicely into the idea that Faramir is trying to be Boromir for his father. so of course he'd give his life for Minas Tirith, because wouldn't Boromir do the same?

🔔unpopular opinion

again do I have one??? idk??? maybe that movie!Faramir is better than book!Faramir, that feels blasphemous lol

🔊a song that reminds me of them

Living Pyre — Khemmis (look is it ultimately a depressing song? yes. but it is a Faramir song to me.)

also Blacksmith and Ride On by Cruachan bc I think he’d genuinely enjoy Cruachan

📝misc thoughts/headcanons (you can specify something not on this list or i can say whatever comes to mind first!)

AUTISM CREATURE. WE ARE AUTISM CREATURES TOGETHER

autism2autism communication we r both staring into the distnce over each other's shoulders so we dont have to actually make eye contact

[justagaycryptid]

I was watching one of Mark’s Cards Against Humanity videos while I was working on some sewing and then all of a sudden I hear:

“HEY! YOU LISTENING INTO THE BACKGROUND WHILE YOU’RE WORKING, PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION! IT’S IMPORTANT NOW!”

Scared the absolute piss out of me and what’s even worse is this isn’t the first time something he’s said in a video correlated to what I was doing while watching it  

[solreefs]

your tags on that trans post were very...i dunno but they were very nice because they made me think. i think i might be a demigirl, but being afab i thought i wasn’t really trans but your tags are making me rethink that so thank you,, <3

Yeah, trans/enby stuff is interesting to me because it does overlap, but like, for me anyway, the way it does is complicated.

Gender is confusing.