Tim steps up to the counter, studying the menu. A spring-styled toy stands there with a bored expression on their face, sighing as Tim takes his sweet time.

Your scottie dog friend fishes through his pocket and hands over the money, turning to you with a pleased look.

There’s mostly sandwiches and soups on the dinner menu, nothing hugely filling like the bar’s…but they do look pretty appetizing, and you can get them in a big size.

They read off your order to the people working the kitchen, the two of you moving to sit back down at the table.

A small but well loved book is passed your way, the cover reading "Basics of BDSM- A Beginner's Guide".

You decide to just…dive in, accepting the very weird feeling that you’re doing this over food. 

It’s an easy enough read, and you find yourself sinking into passage after passage. You still don’t totally get this whole pain as pleasure thing, but…from the way it talks about it, about how it can be a way to relieve stress or even other pains that aren’t there by choice, you think you understand Tim a little better. Well…aside from one thing.

You mull this over as you read further…

…you definitely get urges to hurt people, but…not…like this. Not like Tim’s. You think about the thoughts of revenge and the feeling of the bat in your hands back at the store only hours earlier, and a painful feeling creeps into your chest…

He drums his featureless paw on the table, trying to think of the right thing to say.

He seems a bit tense at that, but you can’t pin down exactly why.

Tim keeps tapping at the table, both hands now. 

He seems to stare off into the distance, just a little.

The cashier calls out your names, both of you getting to your feet.

It’s clear that whatever Tim’s concerned with, it’s…hard for him to talk about.

You’re not going to pry. Yet.

You return to your table with a tray full of food, and god, you are delighted with the flavors immediately. You love food, as it turns out. Soup is especially tasty, but the burger isn’t bad either. Tim seems just as happy to dig in, and the two of you enjoy your meal wordlessly. It’s a little bit awkward, but from the warm look Tim gives you, it’s clear that he isn’t judging you for earlier. 

At least there’s that…

When you get back to it, you skim around a bit more- ooh, outfits…

You can’t help but smile as you look through latex and leather gear…even if you have zero interest in any of the play around pain and domination, you just can’t get enough of this stuff. Masks and hoods seem especially cool right now, but you have no idea if it’d just look silly with your beak. 

He turns the book around for you to read.

The scottie dog nods, taking it in.

You can’t help but smile at that- it’s not the first time he’s used the term “friend” by any means, but…it’s nice. You definitely don’t get the same feelings as you do for Willow for this guy, but there’s something genuine about spending time with a guy who you know has your back. 

Both of you get back to your books, chatting all the while. It’s easy to get lost in it, and before you know it, the cafe’s closing up for the night.

He raises his paw up, the gesture foreign to you for just a few moments before you go for the high five. Tim’s tail starts wagging all over, looking pleased as can be.

The walk back is easy enough, and it looks like everybody’s got places to go…it’s still not too late, but after everything, you are Tired with a capital T as soon as you get back to your room. It….wouldn’t hurt to get an early rest, right?

You get into your sleeping clothes and flop right back into bed, your eyes closing as soon as you hit the pillow. Bed is warm, and soft, and welcoming…


You dream. But of what?

You open your eyes to a sight that makes your metaphorical heart race- endless swaths of pristine ocean waters, a light blue sky hanging overhead. It’s so much brighter and more welcoming than the city you’ve come to call home in such a short time, and-

The ground sways slightly and you realize you’re on a boat- your mind calls it a pirate ship. Huh. Weird. There’s billowing sails with a silly duck face and crossbones- it must be yours.

You walk to the edge of the boat, leaning on the rails- there’s fish down there, big enough that you can see their shadowy shapes swimming through the water. You can even see…windup keys along their sides, which fills you with a weird feeling…

Familiarity, maybe.

You stay transfixed by them for a few more moments before the sound of someone else on the deck makes you whip around, your face heating up as soon as you make eye contact.

Willow, fresh in pirate garb, a bandana tied around one of her horns and a ruffled collar hanging above her shirtless chest. Boots look especially nice on her, and the sound of them approaching is unmistakable.

…you very much like the sound of that.

You reach up and feel a proper captain’s hat perched lazily on your head, a quick check to the rest of your body revealing a dapper, matching coat.

It nags at the back of your mind, but you can’t remember either.

She pulls out something from a holster at her side-

It’s a hatchet, and actual metal to boot.

You place a wing on her shoulder, the virtual pet making a thankful beep.

Before you can react, she has you in a hug, her plastic arms warm under the sun’s rays.

….

….for some reason, you feel like crying.

---

For the second morning in a row, you wake up with tear-stain paint on your cheeks.

You check your phone’s clock, only to find that you somehow slept 14 fucking hours. It’s already noon.

Four hours to burn.

You may as well shower and wash up…

When you reach the bathroom mirror, you take a good few seconds to stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face feels weird, and you can’t say you enjoy looking at it too much…but you manage to wipe off the tear paint anyway, washing your hands of it-

God, I want a hug.

You hate it, you hate it so much, but more tears come, and for some amount of time that you can’t be bothered to keep track of, you’re in the shower crying. The water does help to calm you down some, but something about this thought feels profoundly lonely. You just-

You turn off the water and reach for your towel, drying off with a few quick motions.

…maybe you could get these feelings out on paper. Metaphorically.

You remember seeing some kind of notes app on your phone…you don’t bother getting dressed again as you sit on the edge of your bed, taking the device in hand and flipping it over.

Sure enough, there it is. You open it up and start typing…whatever comes to mind.

i dont know what to do. i keep having these awful dreams

well the last one was nice actually but that sucks too

when its good it feels wrong, both because its willow but also because something is just. fucked about it. it reminds me of how messed up stuff is, except i dont even remember what’s messed up about it. i just keep feeling horrible and weird and i want a fucking hug

this is pointless

im just going in circles

This is supposed to make you feel better, right? Writing stuff down?

Why does it just make you feel sick?

You try to catch your breath and get ahold of yourself, setting the phone down for a few moments as you screw your eyes shut. When you open them up again, you pick the phone back up and start typing again.

You write about what happened in the dream, all of the little details you can remember. When you get to the stuff with Willow, you can’t help but feel a mix of giddy and embarrassed- this is still…weird, and you feel guilty for it, but there’s something nice about having a silly dream with her in it instead of a nightmare.

Besides, hugs were…less pressure than whatever the kiss was last time.

When you’re all done, you start to feel a lot better…writing down the pirate outfits was fun, at least.

…but now you’re restless.

Maybe…

No, it’s stupid.

Unless…

You don your usual outfit- you’d come back for the party gear later. Once you’re all decked out, you’re out the door- and headed for the bar.

Vine’s getting lunch specials set up, her expression hard to read.

You try not to look guilty of that exact line of thought.

Judging by the look your mentor gives you, you’re doing a horrible job of it.

She watches as you zip towards the back, passing by Beans getting xer apron on. Xe does a little wave, which you return before going straight out to the alley.

Cindi’s leaning against the wall, some kind of toothpick stuck into the fabric of their muzzle.

They pull the toothpick out of their face- a gesture that makes you cringe- and tosses it to the ground, crushing it with their hoof.

Their refusal makes you even more tense and worked up, all the bad feelings from before coming back.

You turn to storm off, punching at the wall on your way out- it’s a familiar gesture like so many others at this point, but you instantly regret it- it really hurts your wing.

There’s a noise behind you, and when you peer over your shoulder you’re immediately startled by the horse’s head looming over yours.

You whip around with your beak scrunched up into a scowl, the horse looking smug as can be.

You’re fuming at this point, your wings clenched into fists. Cindi doesn’t move, simply cocking their head.

Without warning, they shove past you, heading back into the club.

You’re left to stand there in the snowy alley, still all tensed up and shaking.

…This was a terrible idea.

You look down at your phone. 2:30.

An hour and a half to go, but you’d be damned if you missed out on that party with Willow. You just have to work this out, somehow.

….breakfast. You need breakfast. Brunch, even.

You head back inside the club, passing by Cindi getting their apron on.

They don’t make eye contact.

You reach the bar and slide onto one of the stools.

The usual bartender’s there, drying a plastic mug.

As she turns to pass your order over, you can’t help but feel a little better now that you’re interacting with someone who actually gives a shit. Or at the very least, seems to.

You manage a smile, and she gives you a warm look.

Just as quickly as it came, your smile falls.

Your order pops up in the window, Katie reaching over to grab it and hand it over.

You take a bite and savor the warmth of it. Chased down with a sip of that root beer float, it’s heaven.

There’s quiet for a few minutes as you dig more into your food, mulling over the bear’s second question.

Something about Katie’s attitude is…oddly infectious, and a smile returns to your beak.

That gets a huge giggle out of Katie, the bear covering her muzzle with a paw.

She waves at a new customer taking a seat, giving you an apologetic look.

The rest of your lasagna is just as good as when you were talking- almost better now that you can fully focus, even. It’s comforting…

And then, it and the float are gone, all eaten up.

You have twenty minutes left- just enough time to get back, get dressed and do whatever you can think of last minute.

You make one quick stop before heading back to your room.

The bear gives you a look as she stirs some fresh pasta, the plastic shapes clicking and clacking in the pot.

She sighs, her eyes softening.

You find Vine’s stuff easily- her bag has her name embroidered into it. Digging through, you find an eyeliner pen in a dark purple. Thank god for you and Vine both having common taste in colors…

The staff bathroom is cramped with boxes and supplies that wouldn’t fit anywhere else, but it’s got a mirror and that’s all you care about. You line your eyes as best as you can remember how, taking a step back and doing some silly poses as a final check. Perfect.

You make sure to wave on your way back out, practically running back to your room- you didn’t have a lot of time to spare now, and you nearly lose more than you’d ever want on fumbling into your new, strappy garment.

One last look in the mirror before you step out.

…

…damn, you’re actually pulling something off here.

You hope Willow will like it just as much as you do, because you feel like you’re selling it.

Filled with confidence, you’re out the door, carrying your phone in one of your leftover shopping bags. It made for a poor purse, but it’s what you have.

Finding the room takes some effort, but once you get there, it’s unmistakable- people are lining up to enter and good god, the outfits. Some people aren’t wearing anything at all, some are fully clothed, but a lot of toys are in that in between of showing just enough skin, selective sections of their bodies laid bare and exposed.

To say it gives you a thrill is an understatement.

When your turn comes to walk in, you’re met with a large room not unlike Laurie’s office- the walls lined with plush, red velvet padding and drapery, long, deep crimson sectional couches sitting against every corner. There’s a stage on the far end of the room not unlike the bar, a giant closed shelf labeled “the toybox” in kind of cheeky lettering, a minibar with snacks and drinks on the side, and…

Willow’s taken a seat on one of the sectional couches, a can of soda in her hand. She swirls it around idly, staring at the other partygoers and seemingly looking them over- you can’t help but wonder if she’s taking in all of the outfits, just like you.

You take a deep breath. It’s go time.

You try waving, having to stand there like a chump for a few seconds before she finally notices you, the vpet startling a little and chirping as she waves back. Your walk over is a little less than slick as you have to sidestep and sneak around the other toys, but eventually, you’re face to face, standing there in your best attempt to look confident.

All words stutter in your mind as you look over her outfit- it’s the same from the show, all lace and mesh bodysuit with a cutout for her chest buttons. You have no idea how she could get so worked up about nudity when this feels like it shows so much more…everything.

A giggle of beeps sneaks out before Willow can stop herself, the little character on her screen blushing.

To your delight, she also seems to sputter out as she gets a look at you, and you swear to god, you catch her trying to peer around and catch a glimpse of your exposed tail.

She pats the seat on the couch next to her, setting her soda can to the side.