#and yeah i still think it fits even though it’s meant as a message to alfie that he needs to stop being a Womanizer

[boltgunkiller-archive]

some may complain but i actually think alfie was one of the best decisions for santana to sing in 6x6. it’s a little funny that they cut out the “without true love we just exist, alfie” but the rest of the song fits soo well and makes me so emotional

[gurugirl]

The Ex | ex!harry

Summary: Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

A/n: This will have a jucier, alternative ending but you'll only find it on Patreon! I consider this Tumblr version to be what happens in 'real life'. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3435

Warning: 18+ only, mentions of smut, emotional cheating, angst

You had no way of knowing he’d be there. But then again, he also had no clue that you would be there either.

You spotted one another right away. It was as if by magic something had drawn your eyes to his. He was already casting his gaze toward you, those soft green eyes taking you in as he held the hand of the woman to his right.

Your heart skipped a beat and looking at him again after all those years felt like there hadn’t been a day that aged him. He looked just as youthful and vibrant and handsome as ever. Dark curls placed carefully on top of his head in a flattering style, broad shoulders, a slender waist, and nicely fitted pants showing off what you remember being very sturdy and masculine thighs.

“Oh! Here are our seats!” Your husband, Les, spoke from your side and pulled at your hand, drawing your attention back to where it belonged.

You shook yourself of the direction your thoughts had been headed just before. What good did it do to remember how things were once upon a time? When you were young and in college, no kids or a career… things had been so different back then. And seeing your ex, the man you thought you’d marry, the one you thought would be by your side until you grew old and ugly…

“Are you okay, babe?” Les asked you with concern on his face.

“I’m fine… yeah! Just looking around and seeing a bunch of old faces. People I haven’t seen in years.”

You were at a friend’s wedding. Someone you, by some miracle, had stayed in touch with since high school. You had grown apart from Seria over the years but she still invited you to her wedding and you couldn’t imagine missing it even though you had to find an overnight sitter for your two kids and drive five hours to a different state to attend. Something told you it would be worth it.

You turned slowly to glance around the room again, your wine glass in hand and caught his eye again. The woman he was seated next to was as lovely as she was when you first met. You remembered her. She was in your senior graduating class. An acquaintance. Someone that Harry had grown close to but that you hadn’t gotten to know all that well. At first, her presence didn’t threaten you. But after you all graduated she and Harry became inseparable and he slowly began spending less time with you and more time with her. They had a lot in common, as you recall. They were both music majors, they’d write music together and play at bars in tiny scraped-together bands occasionally.

You found out on accident about how serious he was about her. No one thought you didn’t know.

You had visited a mutual friend’s apartment and stopped in for tea and a little chat. Sarah had a whiteboard hung up on her front door, facing the inside. People would write on it. Doodle pictures, scrawl their names in different colors, or just leave funny messages.

You didn’t take note of the whiteboard at first but when you sat down on Sarah’s couch you looked up at it and saw what had been written in black with red hearts all around.

harry + ginny = really good stuff

It took you a moment to let it all sink in after you saw that. You and Sarah made small talk but you couldn’t stop thinking about what was written on the whiteboard. And the hearts all around it told you it meant more than just something friendly. So you had to interrupt and ask, “Is that… my Harry?” You already knew the answer.

Sarah followed your gaze to the whiteboard and she let out a small gasp, “Oh! I forgot that was there. Are you okay about all this? I know it’s still fresh. You and Harry were together for years.”

“Am I okay about what? What’s fresh?” You began to feel yourself tremble and your heart was racing. You were suddenly having a hard time taking in any new information because it all came crashing down on you at that very moment. The reality of what was going on. You were the last to know about Harry and Ginny. He hadn’t even had the balls to break it off with you first.

You hardly remember leaving Sarah’s apartment after she told you that they’d been dating, and from what she said, rather openly. No one had bothered to talk to you about it. Everyone just assumed you knew.

Of course, you went directly to Harry’s apartment and found Ginny there already. They hadn’t been doing anything bad when you barged in. Ginny was on his couch with a notebook in hand and Harry was on the floor with a guitar in his arms.

He looked up at you from his spot on the floor and it’s like you blacked out. You can’t quite recall what was said but in the end, he wound up telling you the truth. That he’d fallen in love with Ginny and he was going to tell you soon but that he didn’t know how because he didn’t want to hurt you.

After that, you still saw Harry. He was part of your friend group and so it was inevitable that you’d run into him from time to time. After a couple of years, things were fine between you two and you’d met Les. You’d both moved on. Things had changed. And then you moved away with Les and you got pregnant, twice, and now six years later, here you were again looking at the man who once was your everything. He��d broken your heart but you were both so young and dumb back then that it was all but forgotten.

The past was the past, but you could still feel that small clench in your heart at how things had ended with Harry.

More drinks were drunk, snacks were served, and dancing commenced… the night was fun. Les was hilarious. He was an awful dancer but he insisted on taking you to the floor with him. You both laughed and swayed to the music in the crowded spot in the hall designated for dancing.

And as much fun as you were having you couldn’t stop thinking about or catching glimpses of Harry. It appeared he couldn’t get you off his mind either. It was rather flattering in a way. To have him looking at you from across the room. The subtle smiles and nods. You felt really good about keeping your distance, though. Even though at the very end of everything, you and Harry were on good terms and had been friendly, it had been so long. Too long. You felt there was no use in having a chat. Nothing good would come of it. You’d grown apart. Lives took separate paths. Old exes at a wedding had no good reason to catch up when you’d likely never see one another ever again. It was easier to stay away. Better for everyone.

Les ordered another round of whatever he’d been drinking and suddenly wasn’t feeling so hot. You both sat at your table with a couple of the other guests who were still there. Many were dropping like flies, as tends to happen at weddings. Luckily the hotel was connected to the reception hall so getting Les to your room was not that difficult.

You knew you should have stayed with him. Just called it a night and tucked in for your early morning back home to pick up your children. But against your better judgment, you decided on just one more drink.

The band was still playing, slower music than when you’d left. Most of the tables were empty as people mingled and danced slowly. You sat at the bar and searched the room for Harry. You figured he and Ginny had gone to their room, or back home depending on how far away they lived from the venue. It was nearly midnight. The band would wrap up in a half hour and that would be that.

You sighed and turned back to face the bar and sipped your last glass of wine of the night. You’d said your hellos to everyone you wanted to. Except Harry. Deep down you really did want to say hi to him but you knew better. There was something that was telling you to keep your distance and you were glad for it. Maybe it was subconscious or perhaps there were still feelings there after all this time. You knew the truth. But you weren’t ready to admit any of that to yourself.

“Hi, Sunshine.”

You felt a wave of heat and excitement thrum through your bones. It was him. He used to call you Sunshine. Sunny. Used to sing You Are My Sunshine to you every day.

You turned to see Harry taking the chair next to you at the bar, “Hi, Harry.”

You took him in. All of his handsome face. Those pink lips you used to nibble, the nose you used to smush yours into for wispy nose-tip kisses. His intense gaze was just as it had been all those years before. You wanted to reach your fingers out and stretch them over his jawline and feel the stubble on the pads of your fingers. He was so grown up. So unchanged and yet more mature. More handsome in some ways.

He drew his arm along the back of your chair and leaned in close as he spoke to you as if you two were a couple. As if nothing had ever come between you nearly 8 years prior, “You are more beautiful than I even remember, Sunny. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you at least once.”

You hadn’t expected him to let that be his leading comment. The first thing spoken to you in so long. But Harry didn’t follow conventions or rules. He never had. So it shouldn’t have surprised you that his first comment to you was how he thought about you every day. You wondered if that was true. Because there were days you thought about Harry still too. It wasn’t every single day. Some days he didn’t cross your mind at all. But of course, you did often think of him.

“I doubt that, Harry. You’re still big on flattery, I see,” you smiled shyly and peeled your eyes away from his to sip your wine.

When his thigh brushed into yours you could smell his cologne. It was different than what he wore in college. It was more grown up. Smelled expensive. Smelled more like something Harry should wear, “I wrote a song about you not too long ago. Ginny doesn’t know, but it brought back a lot of old memories.”

His voice was soft and deep and the timbre traveled from your ear down to your neck and your bare shoulder. You swallowed thickly and dared to turn to look at him again, knowing he was too close. Knowing what this would look like if anyone were to see you two.

“Where is Ginny?”

Harry’s small grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at your lips and shook his head, “In our room. She was tired. Just like I imagine Les is in yours.”

You blinked and looked away. You were flying too close to the sun, you knew it. This was dangerous territory and Harry was orchestrating something very wrong. Something you’d only regret. But you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Maybe curiosity had you sticking around. Maybe it was for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was just that you missed him and missed this and missed the way things had been.

You didn’t know how to respond but your body was on fire. Harry’s warm leg was pressed into yours and his large frame practically had you caged in. You loved it.

“Look at me, Sunshine,” he whispered as he softly touched your chin and nudged your face toward his, “There we go. Remember that time we loaded up my old Bronco and drove straight through to San Francisco? Thought we were gonna find an apartment and live like hippies in the big city and just write and paint and make music and that’s how we’d make all our money?”

You laughed and nodded, “I do. But instead, your Bronco broke down in Oakland at 3 am and we had to stay the night in the back of your car and get a tow back home.”

Harry laughed through his nose as he nodded his head, eyes still pinned to yours, “Wish it would have worked out between us. I miss all the fun we used to have. Me and you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you were stuck. He was laying it on thick. He was never one to beat around the bush. He hadn’t changed. It was part of what drew people to him. His magnetism. His confidence.

“Don’t you miss it, Sunny?” He brushed his knuckle over your wrist and you inhaled sharply. Just the smallest touch had you spiraling. You would have to fight your way out of his trance if you intended on not allowing this to go any further.

You shook your head and looked down at your lap, “I don’t know, Harry.”

“We’d stay up all night making love until the sun came up. Miss classes. Skip out on parties we promised people we’d go to. Just in our own world all the time. It never got boring with you. For years we were like that. It’s never been like that with anyone else. All that passion we had, Sunny. My Sunshine girl. Never.”

You sighed and… yes. You did recall all that passion. And it was true. For nearly four years you and Harry were insatiable. It was like every day was your first date. Your first time. Like you were still getting to know one another after all those years. Sex had never been better. Harry was your best by far. You didn’t like to compare anyone to him but that’s only because it made you miss him. Made you miss the way you felt. Missed that lust and that passion and the vulnerability.

“I know you know what I mean,” Harry slid his hand down to your thigh discretely. No one in the room could see but you knew he was touching you in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. In a way that was only reserved for your husband. Felt that familiar, big palm spread over the expanse of your soft thigh, his thumb lightly grazing the bottom hem of your dress.

“Harry…” you breathed his name in warning.

“My Sunshine, girl,” he spoke the pet name back to you without an ounce of teasing. He was perfectly clear in what he wanted. And even though he hadn’t said it outright, there was no denying it.

“I’m married.” You reasoned weakly as you let your gaze rove his features and drop to his plush lips.

“So am I.” He squeezed your thigh and your limbs were on fire. You didn’t know how to escape the moment. You didn’t know if you wanted to. He was “the one who got away”. Even though everything hurt when it happened and he’d done you wrong, you’d long ago forgiven him and now it was just two old lovers feeling that same heat and desire they once felt. Some things from the past could be forgotten. But the way things felt between you, that constant spark, the wild lust every single day for all those years would never be forgotten.

You still dreamed about him. Would wake up hot and panting and roll over to see Les fast asleep with his face tucked into his pillow and you’d close your eyes and remember the time… Remember his voice and his hands and the way he made you feel. How free and exciting life was with Harry.

And it was all coming back to you in an insane, surreal, mind-bending rush. Everything about him was the same as it was before you graduated college. Before he fell for Ginny. Before you two grew apart and you got married and moved away. You could almost taste the skin on his hips near his laurel tattoos. Could smell the scent of his sex mixed with yours. Could hear the laughs and the moans and neighbors beating on the wall telling you to keep it down. Could feel the way you loved him once upon a time, the way he loved you so deeply it scared you. Loved you so much you never could imagine that he’d ever love another.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” you whispered with a grin.

He shook his head, “I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.”

You licked your lips and closed your eyes. Every time you thought you’d wake up from the dream you felt him move against you, felt his fingers on your skin and you were continuously dropped down into your seat at the bar at your friend’s wedding with your ex at your side and his words snaking into your ears.

The only thought that kept you grounded was knowing that there was nowhere for him to take you that was private. Because that had already, obviously, crossed your mind. To have another taste. One last time just for old-time’s sake. But it seemed impossible. It seemed ridiculous to even entertain. And yet there you were.

“Remember that small room with the table and chair on the second floor of the library we used to go to? Had a lock,” Harry’s warm hand stayed on your thigh as he spoke.

You did remember that. You found a room in the 2nd-floor corridor that connected to a small hallway off the library. The hallway had four doors. They were all locked but one of them just so happened to unlock if you lifted the knob upward and jiggled it just right. The room was bare of furniture except a small wooden table pushed against the wall and a fabric swivel chair with wheels. Both of which you learned to make good use of. It wasn’t hard to find a use for random surfaces with Harry back then.

Nodding and squinting your eyes at the man you spoke, “Of course I do.”

“I want to get you alone in a room again,” he lowered his voice and leaned in so that his voice was close and the front of his shoulder was pressed into the back of yours, “Just one more time. Something just for you and me, Sunny. I miss you.”

You couldn’t believe the way he’d gotten you worked up in almost no time. The way you still reacted to him and the need crawling up your spine made you dizzy.

“There’s no place to go here, Harry. No free room. We can’t anyway… you know we can’t,” you looked at his face and held your breath. You couldn’t do this. It was wrong.

“We can find something. A hidden spot where no one will ever know.”

You looked away from his fierce gaze and down at your glass. You swallowed thickly and shook your head as you reluctantly pulled yourself from his side and stepped off the stool, “Harry. We can’t. I have kids. My husband is… I love him. I don’t love you anymore. I could never forgive myself.”

He clenched his jaw as he nodded, “No one would know.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. You could tell he knew this wasn’t going to happen.

“I would know,” you dropped some cash on the bar and looked back at Harry as you squeezed his shoulder, “But it does feel good to know that you regret replacing me with someone else even after all this time.”

As you walked away you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You could have said yes. Could have found yourself in some room or bathroom stall with him getting exactly what you knew he could deliver. But you didn’t regret saying no. You didn’t regret walking away from him. It felt good to have the upper hand. Something you had no idea that you’d had all along. The man who you thought you’d lost really turned out to be the man who’d lost you.

Find the other version with the alternative ending here on my Patreon!

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

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[gaybananabread]

Hi!!! 💖 If 21 isn’t filled yet for tickletober, do you think you could do ler Asmodeus and lee Fizzarolli from Helluva Boss? The new episode has me craving for some tickle content for them they’re so cute!! Hope you’re well and take all the time you need. 💖

TickleTober Day 21 - New Discovery

Writing this one made me happy. I dunno what it was, but writing the scrunkles just boosted my happy brain chems. I know I’ve been squeaking these in at like 11:50 something at night, but I actually paced myself this week and loved getting this out! Hopefully you like reading this as much as I did writing it. Enjoy!

Lee: Fizzarolli

Ler: Asmodeus

Summary: After a shitty day, Fizz is more than ready for some love from his partner. Ozzie is happy to help, though he does it in his own silly way. After all, what's love without some laughter?

Warnings: swearing (obviously), implied murder (don't worry, they deserve it)! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Hell's worst kept secret…

Not wrong, but the title still pissed the pair off. Ever since the kidnapping incident, they had been a bit more open with their relationship. They obviously weren't announcing it; all of Hell didn't need to know that Ozzie and an Imp were together. But around the factory and his quarters, the fruits were showing more PDA and less shitty excuses when they were caught. 

The workers knew better than to say anything.

Still, the occasional whisper or snide comment outside of Asmodeus's safe zone got the jester's blood boiling. Especially when they were about his man.

"Did you hear about Asmodeus and that little imp? Man, what a way to fall. Never thought the embodiment of Lust would do that to himself." The second demon nodded, smirking. "Oh, Fizzer-something? Yeah, a big rooster and a clown. Sounds like the plot of a shitty porno." "Heh, they kinda are!"

Oho, Fizz wanted to rip their throats out and shove them so far up their-

Whooo-kay. Deep breaths, deep breaths. He promised Asmodeus that he wouldn't let small-minded loudmouths get to him, especially sinners. But they so deserved it, and he was just a few feet away…

They just had to keep talking, though. "And hey, he didn't even pick a working one! The thing's defective! Robotic limbs and shit. Dude really needs higher standards."

That was it. The jester turned, running at them with nothing but rage and hate in his eyes. The dumb fuckheads barely had time to begin a plea before Fizz went to town.

-

When his Fizzie got home, Ozzie immediately knew something was wrong. His partner’s colorful clothes were coated with black blood. The sin hurried over to him, surveying the imp for injuries before scooping him up into his arms. “Fizzie, babe, what happened?”

Asmodeus’s voice radiated concern, comfort and love for the jester. Fizzarolli couldn’t have gotten any luckier when him and the demon connected for the first time. Or the second. Or the many, many times after that. Eh, who needs labels?

“Some…assholes, spewing shit about you and me. I tried, but…they needed a lesson on how to shut up.” One of the robotic arms was damaged in his fit of rage. Apparently the loudmouthed sinners had a bit of fight in them. Fizz still disposed of the garbage; he just got a bit messy.

Ozzie sighed, nuzzling his feathery head against Fizz’s smooth skin. “Froggie, I love that you wanna defend me, but it’s not worth you getting hurt. I’d take all the shit-talk Hell has to offer if it meant you’d be okay.”

So mushy… The imp rolled his eyes, secretly melting inside at the sweet words. “Alright, alright, I get it. No more fighting over your honor. Tell Hallmark the message worked.”

Then he did Fizzarolli’s most favorite thing ever. He laughed, a deep snort kicking off the rumbling chuckles. Fizz laid his head on Ozzie’s chest, feeling the vibrations and listening to the short burst of amusement. The sin stood, sighing out a final huff before carrying his partner to their bed. It was the only one big enough for Asmodeus, let alone Fizz, to fit. 

Following their pattern, Ozzie removed his elaborate suit, slipping on his robe instead. He then helped the jester peel away the blood-stained outfit, quickly drawing a bath for him. They were at the point where it was just second nature; one of them has a bad day, they get a warm bath, cuddles and shitty RomComs until they fall asleep. That day was Fizz’s day to be pampered.

After some calming back rubs in a nice bath, all blood was clean and the imp was feeling a bit better. Ozzie got him a new arm, making sure to give him little forehead kisses as he worked. Finally, they were ready to lay down.

Surprising no one, Ozzie was the big spoon. He hugged Fizz close under the covers, rubbing his back soothingly. The Lust ring’s RomCom channel played distantly on the TV.  It was barely a minute before the jester was dozing off. The sin’s touch softened, absentmindedly wandering across Fizzarolli’s bare skin. 

His feathery fingers eventually made their way to the imp’s sides. Fizz was drawn from his sleepy stupor by an unexpected buzzing along his side. A feeling he hadn’t felt in quite some time. He squirmed a bit, feeling the fingers go back to his back. The moment he settled back down, however, they returned. 

A quick glance at Ozzie’s dreamy expression told him that the sin wasn’t doing it on purpose. The rooster just thought he was giving him soft affections. Sighing, Fizz squirmed again, adjusting himself so the tracing was closer to his lower back. That was apparently a big mistake.

The moment one of the feathery fingers brushed his back, he squeaked, flinching away from the touch. Asmodeus immediately went into Mother Hen mode, lightning his touch and looking for injuries. “Fizzarolli, why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself? Back injuries are serious!”

Ugh, why did he have to care so much? “I-I didn’t…” The lighter touch was somehow worse, sending a flurry of butterflies to attack his stomach. Fizz’s tail twitched, trying to wag; he made sure to force it still. Unfortunately for him, that also meant he took a small amount of focus off his verbal reactions. The smallest, teensiest little giggle slipped past his lips. Ozzie immediately stilled his fingers; as a sin, he easily heard the noise. Then something clicked.

“Froggie…are you ticklish?” Shit…Fizz tried to run, a burst of adrenaline pulling him from the sleepy peace. Ozzie was on him before he could move an inch. The little imp didn’t stand a chance.

“W-wait! Ozz, don’t you fucking dare!” His robotic arms wrapped around the sin’s body, trying to push him off. That was nearly impossible, as Asmodeus was over four times his size and much stronger than the prosthetics. Still, he could only try. 

The rooster smirked, his demeanor doing a complete 180. Ozzie went from concerned and soft to playful and smug in seconds; it was almost scary how fast he could switch like that. “Oooh, babe, I definitely fucking do~”

Before he could get another protest out, ten feathered fingers attacked his torso. Five running along his back, five snaking around to his stomach. In seconds, small giggles slipped past his lips, a blush tinting his scarred cheeks. “N-nohoho! Ohohozzie you dihihick!”

“I know it’s one of your favorite features, but let’s leave my dick out of this.” Stupid, cheesy words; it was unfair how blushy they made him. Fizz tried to wiggle away, but even with his insane flexibility, Ozzie’s strong arms kept him trapped.

He twisted and kicked, his limbs swinging and flailing as he tried to escape. He didn’t fully mind the tickling, but Fizz had an image to protect. The amazing, alluring, ass-kicking Fizzarolli couldn’t be seen getting reduced to a giggly puddle; even if nobody was watching but his boyfriend.

“Tickle tickle tickle, Fizzie~” He just had to tease… If there was one thing that killed Fizz, it was Ozzie’s silly teases. Normally, they were just flustering. Those teases, though; they drove him nuts. “Shuhut the fuhuhuck uhuhup!”

Ozzie loved the sight of his squirmy boyfriend. The genuine laughter, happy smile, vibrant blushes and adorable noises warmed his loving heart. He genuinely couldn’t be happier than when he was with his Fizzie Frog; especially when the imp was all giggly like that. “Awww, babe, I’m just tryna cheer you up! Are you not feelin’ just a teeny bit better?”

Okay, that wasn’t fair. He was definitely feeling better than when he arrived, but that wasn’t totally because of the tickling. Being around Asmodeus, as evil as he was, immediately boosted his mood. “Thihis- ihit’s nohot fahahair! Youhuhu suhuhuck!”

“Only for you, Fizz~” Just to be evil, Asmodeus fluttered his fingers on the jester’s hips. FIzz squealed, his arms swinging to try and grab Ozzie’s hands. Oh, that asshole! “SH-SHIHIHIT! AHASMODEHEHEUS! NAHAT THEHERE!” 

Ozzie chuckled, loving the high-pitched cackles from his partner. “But right there is my favorite! C’mon babe, you gotta admit that this is pretty cute.” Fizz groaned through his laughter, thrashing under the sin’s tickly assault. His robotic appendages were no help, merely bouncing off the sin’s feathered skin instead of actually deterring him. 

“NOHO IHIHI”M NAHAT! OHOZZIEHEHEEEE!” Fizz could feel his tail wagging, the tip making a gentle thump against the sheets. At least the rooster wasn’t teasing him about that. “Ooh, Fizzie, your tail’s wagging. Are you enjoying yourself?” Spoke too soon…

Seeing that he was working his partner up a bit too much, he moved away from the imp’s hips, deciding to focus on Fizz’s neck instead. “Alright, alright. I won’t kill you, Fizzie babe.”

“F-fuhuckin’ feehels like ihihit!” Fizz whined, his laughter dying down to squeaky giggles. He turned his head, burying his face in the pillowy mattress. The muffled giggles only made him cuter, in Ozzie’s opinion. He leaned his head down, peppering the jester’s face with light kisses. Fizz scrunched up his shoulders, both loving and hating how the ticklish kisses made him melt. “Bahahahaaaabe!”

Ozzie chuckled, basking in the way his boyfriend reacted to the silly affections. The faces in his hair were smiling wide, portraying his obvious adoration and love. So fucking cute…

It was almost comical, the way the large sin cuddled up to the smaller imp. The love they shared was like no other; based on good communication, mutual respect and pure affection, it was about as healthy as you could get. Sure, they weren’t officially public, but nobody else needed to know about them for it to be wonderful. Especially in the cutesy moments like those.

As much as Fizzarolli loved the attention, he was wearing out. Dealing with the dicks from that morning, combined with the goofy fun, had him pretty drained. “Ohozziehehe! Plehease, noho mohohore!” 

And just like that, it was over. Asmodeus respected boundaries more than any other creature in hell; the moment Fizz wanted him to stop, he would, no questions asked. He did, however, pull the imp against his chest, rubbing small circles into his back to help calm him down. The sin’s voice was soft once again, save for a teasing edge. “Easy, babe. You okay? I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Fizz took a few deep breaths, getting out the last few giggles as he snuggled against his man. “Uhum…no, you’re good. But *damn*, did you have to go for my hips?” Ozzie snorted, nuzzling his head against the imp’s. “You know I did. It’s adorable, how can I not?”

He held Fizz tight, flipping them over so the jester was laying on his chest. It was their favorite way to sleep; Fizz could feel the warmth of his boyfriend, and Ozzie could sleep peacefully, knowing his partner was safe while he was with him. Fizzie grumbled, but didn’t protest the movement. He was tired, and he couldn’t deny that the sin’s chest was rather comfortable.

The covers were pulled over the pair, concealing almost all of Fizz’s body. His concealing hat was removed, placed on its holder for the night. It was nice, affectionate and calm; just the way the pair liked it. They drifted off, the small yet happy smile never leaving the imp’s face.

[mysticalsoot]

hi Connor! can i request a hurt/comfort cc!Wilbur x reader in which reader's going through a rough path of mental health? to be more specific, a lot happened and they're overwhelmed, their mind is all over the place and they need someone to assure them that they're human and not some sort of flickering ghost like they thought. it'd be nice if there's no pronoun in the writing and Wilbur holding reader hands, squeeze it to remind them that they're human :)

don't lock yourself away (request)

A/N; this took me too many months to get to you and for that, I am sorry- but here it is!! I'm trying to work more and more on my requests so hopefully this is the start of many more request posts!!

summary; reader goes through a rough patch mentally and sort of disappears and wilbur gets fed up, taking matters into his own hands and reminding reader that they aren't all what their brain says they are :)

tw// swearing, $uicidal ideation a bit, negative thoughts, depression, dissociation (some), uhh I think that's all?

words; 1.5k

pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none, at least one use of y/n tho!!

masterlist

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Like most other people, your mental health wasn't always the most steady. You'd come and go between happy, good days and depressing, bad days. Most of the time, your depressive episodes didn't even have much of a cause. Your mental health was simply a precariously stacked pile of things with one last feather on the top, and when it would touch the tower of reasons, it'd cause it to fall over.

You weren't sure what your reason was this time. But nonetheless, whatever it was; threw you over the pier into the ocean of despair. It's been a week since you left your flat, and you stopped answering calls and texts five days ago, and now you felt as though you were rotting—but in the comfort of your sheets and pillows.

Rotting away in comfort sounded like a good way to go, your eyes slipping shut to never open again—you stopped yourself every time you thought that. It was easy to succumb to the negative and end all thoughts but you managed to stop yourself—at least this time you did.

Your phone was most definitely dead and Wilbur knew that. Every call he sent through would go straight to voicemail and every text went unanswered. He understood if you were busy, but it had been so many days since anybody heard you from. And yeah, he was on tour for half of your isolation from the world—but he still cared. He really really cared, but he didn't know what to do. What was he supposed to do?

He’d called and texted and even went to your apartment with his spare key--but it didn’t fit. And you weren’t answering your door either.

Maybe he had an old key or maybe your apartment building changed the locks while he was gone and you didn't get the chance to tell him—hypotheticals aside, he had no real idea of what had happened or what was going on. And that scared him. It terrified him, actually.

It was a fear that went deep in his bones, that maybe something had happened and no one noticed or told him and he'd never find out why. Your door wasn't working, you weren't answering his calls and texts, what else was he meant to think? He tried knocking, truly he did, but there was still no response or sounds

He tried everything but it wouldn't budge, so he resorted to resting against the door as he sat on the carpeted hall. He'd wait here as long as he needed to. And so he messaged Tommy that he wouldn't be able to do a vlog with him tomorrow and he settled in to figure out what to do. He wasn't sure if he cared about being polite, maybe he should find a way to break in, just so he can make sure you're okay—but that would probably scare you and he can't risk that, can he?

At this point, he might as well. He brings himself back to his feet and grabs a safety pin he left in his wallet—mostly just to pick the lock at his office when he locked himself in, because whatever genius engineer decided the lock of his office's doors should be on the outside also made it very difficult to keep unlocked. It was like the doors had minds of their own. It was a few moments before he heard a click and he muttered a phrase of excitement before he jingled the door open and closed it behind him when he stepped a foot into your apartment.

He gazes around for any sign of you or life in general and not much was found. Surprisingly, things were decently tidy, there weren't any dishes or chores undone—which was unusual for what he assumed to be a depressive episode but he shrugged it off and beelined for your bedroom after dropping his keys in the bowl next to the door. He's quick to shuffle the door open and his eyes almost immediately land on your curled form.

You're laying under the covers, curled up into yourself and you're silent. Wilbur steps closer to the bed and he calls out for you, "Love?" He steps closer again, "Darling?"

You mumble something incoherent and he's taken aback by how out of it you are-- how unlike yourself you are. He finds his spot next to you and lays a hand on your hip, “Y/N?”

You don’t respond, keeping to yourself, trying to still your breaths--make yourself disappear into the mattress. Maybe he won’t ask questions then, maybe he’ll go away if you don’t answer.

He pulls away his hand a whine nearly drawls itself from your throat, you liked that but you’d never admit it in this state.

“I know you're not going to answer me, so I’m going to tell you what I think and hope you're listening, okay?” He turns on his side to face you, your eyes are wide open now and he smiles a bit to himself, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I think you feel like a shell. You do this a lot, when you're upset or in a funk. I know you can’t help it, I know it's human nature to hide away within yourself and your safe spaces. I don’t blame you, my love. But I need some assurance I’m not going to lose you, okay? A simple nod now or a simple word texted to me later when you feel yourself spiraling. So I can be there for you, I want to be but you have to let me first.”

During his small speech, you found yourself curling into the fetal position, hiding your face in the covers and by your pillows. You closed your eyes and you felt that pang of guilt in your chest despite his reassuring words.

“You’re here, you’re real, and you’re loved, okay?” He nods softly to himself, lips forming a thin line as he crawls out of the bed, “I’ll be out in the living room if you need me, okay? Come talk to me when you feel like it.”

His words echoed in your mind as you heard him leave the door cracked behind him. You felt terrible for making him feel as scared as he must be, yet you still needed a minute and you hoped that was enough. You opened your eyes, carefully eyeing the crack of light through the door, feeling yourself getting heavier with sleep, your eyes drooping shut.

A few hours later and your eyes were opening and a yawn was let out as you stretched, reaching over at Wilbur’s side of the bed only to find it cold. You felt better now, for some odd reason, and as memories of a few hours prior seeped in, you knew why. Maybe isolating yourself only made you feel more alien and the thought of his words so kind and so careful was so beautifully overwhelming. It was something you weren’t sure you could ever have a full grasp upon. Someone loving you as deeply and as carefully as Wilbur does.

You didn’t take much thought as you tossed your legs over the side of the bed, pushing yourself up to stand, ignoring the ache in your muscles as you dragged yourself over to the door and being methodical with how slow you opened the door--avoiding any screeches of the hinges. And then you were careful again, taking soft steps towards the living room, and when there was no sight of Wilbur, you pattered over to the kitchen. Being fully sure you were quiet and slow as you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his stomach and pressing the side of your head against his back. You felt him relax under your touch, any tension or worry completely fizzling from his being.

“I feel transparent, Wil. Like a ghost wandering aimlessly through life. I don't feel real, y’know?” You hum softly against his back, pressing soft and careful kisses against his back. He turns in your grasp to face you, leaning against the counter as he uses his pointer finger to lift your chin up so your eyes meet his. Only a soft love is held in his eyes, almost a promise in the way they glisten. An unspoken promise of forever.

“You aren’t a ghost, you’re a star. Everyone looks up at your shining light and thinks of how beautiful and wonderful it is to exist at the same time as a sight like that,” He moved his hands behind his back to grasp yours. The hold was gentle as he met your eyes again, voice merely a whisper, “You’re real, you’re special, you’re important.”

He squeezed your hands with every word and you nodded gently, a playful smile forming, a gentle scoff following, “I feel compelled to believe you.”

“Well, you should,” He smiled wider, moving his hands to rest on your sides, pulling you flush against him, “Now, do me a favor and, don’t lock yourself away.”

You nod in agreement, “I won’t, I promise.”

taglist; @sleepyburs @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy

[pixelatedbugs]

Looking at all of the messed up boss forms during the Neutral Flowey fight

I just want to talk about them i like them a lot. i was very obsessed with help_tale when i was younger and that's probably why. spoilers below cut, and body horror warning because of the topic ofc.

Decibat

Starting with Decibat, no eyes and a stomach mouth. Awesome!! The stomach mouth kinda goes along with Decibat's noise theme - HUGE MOUTH is loud and Decibat wants quiet.

Dalv

Out of all of the Flowey forms only 2 actually made me jump and this is one of them. Creepy eye things get to me and that’s why this is one of my favorites. It's really simple but it's great. Also the way it glitches sometimes makes it look like he has more than 2 eyes, which I'm not sure if it's on purpose but it's still neat!

I do wonder what would be under the cloak, like would it just be normal Dalv? The void? Something like the Deer Lord from Spooky’s Jumpscare Mansion? idfk. His face being obscured is like how Dalv obscures his face with his cloak for the majority of Dark Ruins, and since we don't really get to know him due to killing him, we don't get to see his real face..

Martlet

Martlet technically doesn’t have a form like the others but I didn’t want to leave her out. This scene does a great job at being unsettling with the lack of talking portrait and the slowed down Snowdin imo. i really like how her hugging animation changes for just that One Frame, it's slow enough that you'll probably catch it but quick enough that you might be wondering if you imagined it.

And then there's the whole "I'm so happy I found you! So happy I found you. I found you." that happens and then her face melts to reveal the Eye. The eye is in grayscale, like Flowey is during the second phase of his fight, so I wonder if it's meant to be HIM looking at you through Martlet.

And the melting parallels her death in No mer- hey wait, why does Martlet melt in both routes where she dies? Like??? I mean, she does have connections to Alphys and the True Lab so like...or maybe i'm just over thinking it. Either way this ones cool, if I knew pixel art I would try to make a form for her like the others have.

El Bailador

I think a lot of people believe this is the scariest one and....yeah. This is the other one that actually made me jump. The smile, the Eyes, it's fucking scary i hate this one (positive). The large strained smile goes with how El Bailador wants to make everyone happy with his dancing even though some prefer quiet, which he doesn't realize. does that make sense idk if that makes sense.

Starlo

Oh boy plant growth body horror! Yeah this one’s good. The vines growing out from his face, the weirdly elongated hands, the way the piece of straw on his hat changes to a flower. Honestly I have 0 clue what is going on with his face. Very cool. I also just noticed the holes in his poncho, like bullet holes? i saw someone say he's still hot on twitter and im scared

Ceroba

Ceroba's gets bonus points for being one of the rarer ones, because you have to abort a No Mercy route to see it. Besides that, no face! Wahoo! Plus her bow has changed to have a flower in it, which matches Starlo.

My favorite thing though is that the way pixels are scattered (i cannot find the right wording for this) kinda makes it look like she's constantly turning into dust which is really cool!! I think her face might be obscured for the same reason as Dalv, considering you have to be in No Mercy to see this you never get to know who Ceroba is.

Guardener

Overgrown robots overgrown robots overgrown robots. She already was overgrown but it gets more turned up with this one which makes me very happy, I love overgrown robots and machinery. All the vines get changed into flowers as well to fit, yippee! The Delta Rune logo on her chest is also scratched out, which is one way to send a message...

Axis

I like how the lack of face here parallels both how axis dies in No Mercy AND the death of the blue soul. This one's very cool, though i wish there were some more wires in his face like his death sprite in No Mercy has. thats a weird thing to wish for isnt it. Actually now that I'm looking at it more, it kinda looks like a mouth? That might just be because of the things at the top and bottom, I'm not sure if it's meant to be a mouth.

Oh! And the heart in his chest is missing, which hurts because both ways you can spare him involve filling his heart (either with Daisy or compliments. Also, Axis' neutral route spare is extremely cute, please go check it out if you haven't seen it.)

anyway thanks for reading through teehee my favorites are probably dalv’s ceroba’s and guardener’s. i have to wonder what the Feisty Four would have looked like in this? They don't get any because well, they don't die, but I like them...I don't really have any ideas myself, though. ok bye

[liightsout]

the blue - part seven

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✯ summary: the boys come home from pre season testing. adam has some questions. mattie has some confessions ✯

✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!oc ✯

✯ content warnings: tooth rotting fluff ✯

✯ now playing: slut! (taylor's version) - taylor swift ✯

✯ series masterlist ✯

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March 2021 

Adam had been home for less than 12 hours before the questions had started. 

“Who bought you flowers?” he had questioned as he dumped his bags next to the sofa. His finger pointing accusingly towards the bouquet of daisies proudly displayed on the coffee table. 

Mattie had given a stumbled excuse about how she had bought them for herself. 

Adam didn’t believe her, she knew he didn’t. 

The next question came in the evening as they sat across from each other at their favourite restaurant. He had been telling her all about how well the pre-season testing had gone. Everyone was impressed by the MCL35M and how well it had performed, as well as Danny, who had also impressed the masses during testing. 

“Speaking of Danny, you guys seem close?” Adam spoke through mouthfuls of food, as he continued eating the lasagne in front of him. Mattie looked up from her bowl of pasta and stared at her friend across the table. Adam continued “he’s a pretty cool guy, really funny actually, I could see how someone could develop a bit of a crush on him” he spoke nonchalantly. 

Mattie’s eyes locked with Adam’s. She wished he didn’t know her so well. She didn’t think she’d been that obvious. She only asked about him a few times over text while they’d all been in Bahrain. She’d only asked how everyone was getting on, and if Danny was fitting in well with the team. It seemed like a silly thing to ask really, Danny appeared to fit in everywhere he went. 

“Yeah we’re friends I guess, we met that night he slept on the sofa, didn’t we? And then again at the pub before you guys went away. We follow each other on Insta and have spoken a little bit here and there… I guess I maybe have a little crush on him. It’s nothing serious though, like, he’s Daniel Ricciardo, I’m happy he even wants to be my friend” Mattie rambled. 

She had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous. She didn’t want Adam to be annoyed at her. She knew it would be weird for him if she suddenly started crushing over one of his friends, who also happened to be a coworker. It’s not as if he had anything to worry about regardless, there was no way her crush was reciprocated. Daniel could have anyone he wanted. She knew she’d never be on that list. 

Adam had a smug look on his face as he watched his friends' nervous attempts at explaining herself. “Mattie it’s okay, honestly, I don’t care” he spoke softly to his friend, sensing her unease. “But I do have to say, I thought you were meant to be the smart one here? Danny’s clearly head over heels for you, it’s pretty disgusting to be honest, he’s smitten” he said, a grin spreading over his face. 

“Did he tell you that?” the words came out of her mouth before she had a chance to catch them. She hoped the low lighting in the restaurant would hide the redness creeping upward from her neck to her cheeks. 

Adam barked out a laugh “he didn’t have too! It’s so obvious Mattie! Don’t tell me you don’t see it? His comments on your Insta posts? And I know he’s the one that got you those flowers!” 

Mattie sighed at her friend's explanation. Danny was just being nice. Adam just assumed any male that paid her any attention fancied her. They’d been down this road many times before. 

“If that’s true you must fancy me too, you do all those things for me as well!” Mattie rebuffed. Adam’s face recoiled as he jokingly pretended to gag “urm, Mattie’s that’s disgusting you’re basically my sister.” 

Adam looked at his best friend sitting in front of him. She’d read a thousand romance novels and she was still clueless. 

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Mattie and Danny’s communication had slowed to a few messages here and there since he had returned from Bahrain. She would hear nothing for a day or so, and then would send her a screenshot of a song he thought she might like. She always added it to her playlist straight away. In turn, she would send him selfies when she was bored of work and needed a distraction. He would reply and tell her she was cute. 

It was the night before the boys were due to be flying out to Bahrain for the first race weekend. Adam had gone to bed hours ago, stating that he needed to be fully refreshed and ready for the days ahead. Mattie found herself curled up in bed watching reruns of The Office when she felt her phone vibrate. She looked down at the screen. 

Daniel Ricciardo is calling you - accept / decline 

Without hesitation Mattie slid her finger across the screen and put her phone up to her ear. 

“Hey Mattie girl! I didn’t wake ya did I? I just realised it’s like 11PM” the Aussie’s voice rang out from her phone and echoed around her bedroom. 

“Hi Danny, no it’s ok, I was awake actually” she spoke into the microphone softly, not wanting to be too loud and wake Adam who was sleeping in the room next door. 

“Ah fantastic, that means you can join me for my walk, be quick, I’m outside your building and if I loiter for much longer one of your neighbours is gonna call the cops on me” Danny joked. 

Mattie got up from her bed and walked over to the window that overlooked the street below. He was telling the truth, she could see him standing by the steps leading up to her building’s front door. 

“A walk? Are you mental?” Mattie said laughing at the Australian who had now spotted her in her window and was waving up at her with a grin on his face. 

“Only a little bit. Come on, come down, I leave tomorrow and I wanted to see you before I go” Danny spoke, the joking tone to his voice was long gone, replaced with a much softer one. 

“I”ll come down, just give me a minute to get changed,” Mattie said, ending the call. She looked around her room and decided her clothing options were limited. She wanted to look cute, but she also knew that it was early March in London and it was cold outside. She was going to have to pick warmth over style. 

She settled on a pair of thick black leggings, a large Mclaren hoodie that definitely belonged to Adam, her black puffa jacket, warm fuzzy socks and a pair of Converse. She checked her face, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but she realised she didn’t have time to change that. 

She grabbed her phone and keys and tiptoed out of the flat. Her brain was running a million miles a minute. Her body felt like it had been electrified. She hadn’t realised how badly she’d wanted to see Danny again, or how excited she would be when it finally did happen. 

Stepping out into the cold night air she felt a shiver run up her spine. She wasn’t sure why she had bothered to layer up to keep out the cold. The adrenaline running through her veins was doing a good job of keeping her warm. 

Danny stood at the bottom of the steps, as soon as he saw her his arms extended outward, signalling for her to step closer so that he could hug her. Mattie walked down the steps and into the arms of the Aussie. 

It was at that moment Mattie decided she would do whatever she could to stay in the arms of Daniel Ricciardo. 

His arms wrapped around her smaller frame and pulled her close against his chest. His hands immediately found a home for themselves. One of them carefully touched the small of her back where her hoodie and jacket had lifted, a slither of skin exposed, due to her arms stretching up to wrap around his neck. His fingertips sending electric shocks through her skin. His face buried itself in the crook of her neck, a perfect fit. 

Begrudgingly the pair pulled away from one another and started on their walk. Danny pointed to a small bench that wasn’t too far away from them and under some street lights, so that they weren’t completely in the dark. 

Mattie sat down on the wooden bench, with Danny placing himself to her right, just close enough that their knees were almost touching. Mattie longed for him to be just a few inches closer. 

“Are you excited for the first race?” Mattie asked, carefully angling her body so that she could look at his face. She watched as Danny’s eyes lit up with excitement and the smile she had grown far too used to appeared on his face. 

“Fuck yes, I’m so ready to get out there and go. I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Danny answered confidently. “Are you going to be watching?” Danny asked the girl. For the first time since she had met him he seemed nervous, patiently waiting for her response. 

“Of course I will be, I watch every race” she answered without hesitation. “I’d never hear the end of it if I missed one” she added. 

“Oh so you’re just watching because Adam will be annoyed if you don’t?” the Aussie teased his knee playfully pushing into hers. 

With a roll of her eyes Mattie replied “I guess I might have other reasons to watch.” 

Her voice was quiet and nervous. Danny looked at her expectantly, urging her to elaborate further. 

“Ugh, are you going to make me say it?” Danny looked at her, nodding his head up and down cheekily. “Fine, I will also be watching to see you race” the girl responded. A small smile on her face as she watched the Aussie smirk at her response, clearly proud of himself for her admission. 

“Mattie, I think you might be obsessed with me. First you’re stalking my Instagram, and now this? Should I be concerned?” Danny taunted as he subtly moved himself an inch closer to the girl next to him, their knees now touching completely. 

Mattie found herself lost for words. She often felt that way around Danny. She wanted to be brave enough to counter his witty remarks, but instead she found herself dumbfounded and blushing like a teenager. 

“All jokes aside, it does actually mean a lot to me that you’re watching, even if it is just because you don’t want to be shouted at by Adam” Danny said as he placed his hand on the girl's thigh and gently squeezed. 

Mattie felt her heart misfire. Was he doing this on purpose? Could he tell that she was having trouble breathing? 

She looked down at the hand now covering her thigh. She didn’t consider herself small, but the way his hand looked as if it covered half of her thigh made her feel tiny. The way Danny made her feel was anything but. 

“It’s definitely not just because I don’t want to be shouted at by Adam” Mattie clarified easily. 

The pair sat and spoke for a while longer. Danny had removed his hand from the girl's thigh and placed his arm along the back of the bench, pulling her to his chest. She could feel him softly toying with the ends of her hair. He told her he was helping her keep warm. Mattie didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t feel cold at all. 

It was around an hour later that Danny had stood up and offered his hand to Mattie, helping the girl stand up from the bench. Mattie had assumed once she was standing he would release her hand. He didn’t. The pair walked back to her flat hand in hand, fingers intertwined. 

Once they arrived at the steps leading up to her front door, Danny let go of her hand and she turned to face him. 

“Good luck for the race” Mattie softly spoke to the Aussie. He nodded, wordlessly thanking her. 

“Don’t forget me while I’m gone?” Danny asked, a cheeky grin on his face as the pair embraced for a final time. The hug lasted much longer than the one they had shared earlier in the evening. Mattie took the time to memorise the exact feeling of Danny’s breath on her neck and the way she could feel his heart beating in his chest. 

As they pulled away from one another Mattie huffed out a laugh, “as if I could ever forget you Danny Ric”. 

“Ditto sweetheart” Danny whispered as he watched the girl ascend the stairs to her front door. 

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✯ authors note: i fully lied to you all and said there wouldn't be any updates today, and now look! a 2.1k word update!

next chapter will probs be a social media one again while the boys are away at a race, and then there'll be a couple more chapters before a bit of a time jump i think? don't quote me on that, i'm still planning future chapters lol. ✯

[billthedrake]

GOALS (PART FOUR)

Story idea by and collaboration with top son Turner (bimgm36@gmail.com).

[AUSTIN]

The holidays were tough. Thanksgiving meant family time for Scott. Shannon was back home and Scott took time off to spend with his wife and daugher. He even canceled our Tuesday session that week.

I had a full couple of days of training sessions to preemptively make up for the holiday. Wednesday afternoon, I made the drive an hour to my Mom's aunt's place where we always spent the holiday, at least since my parents' divorce. It was my first time visiting since I'd come out to them, and I was a little nervous. They acted like nothing was different though. Maybe nothing was different. I was still little Austin in their eyes, and nothing too much had changed.

I texted Scott throughout the day, like I did pretty much every day now. We used a different app to be discreet. By midday though his texts stopped, so I decided to give him a break and let him enjoy family time.

December also meant not as much Scott Delahunt time as I wanted. The man had some work obligations - corporate holiday parties, fundraisers, attending social events from his and his wife's circle of friends. By mid-December, too, Shannon was back home.

Scott seemed apologetic. One evening after our sessions, we were back at my place for a quickie. I used to love quickie sex, and I still did, but that's all we had time for lately. Still, Scott made a show of stripping down for me and getting on his knees in my living room. "Let me take care of you buddy," he hissed.

I still occasionally blew Scott, but it was rare now. And when time was short we went for the basics. His mouth on my cock.

I'd been worked up, and I lasted no more than a minute and a half. Scott greedily gulped my seed. He didn't even pull back to taste the cum, he just let his throat milk me. He'd gotten real good at relaxing his throat.

My prick plopped out of his lips with a smack. Scott had a proud satisfied look on his face as he slowly stroked the lower part of my rod. "Sorry I've not had much time for you, man," he said.

"You don't have to apologize, Scott," I said. "Your family comes first. I mean that."

He looked at me, a little emotional. "Wish I didn't have to choose," he admitted.

"You don't," I said. "But can I get a kiss before you head out?"

"Definitely," he grinned as he stood up. Even with a quick suck, he'd managed to cum in his fist, and I saw his spike still pulsing.

"MMMhhh," he moaned as our bodies connected, then our lips.

"Something to tide me over," he said dreamily as we pulled back.

I had been sincere about wanting Scott to enjoy his family time. But I also knew Christmas would be another tough stretch. Scott and I had no definite plans, but I'd bought him a nice golf-attire zip-up and some expensive golf balls. I wasn't sure when I'd have a chance to give them to him.

Turns out the Saturday before Christmas I got a private message from Scott. Around 7 AM, but I didn't get it until closer to 8, when I woke up.

"Short notice, buddy, but you have any free time today?"

My morning wood jerked even harder. "Yeah, absolutely," I wrote. "When is good?" Saturday usually meant a morning workout and afternoons cleaning up the apartment. But I knew I'd rearrange my schedule to his.

"Kelly and Shannon are going shopping late morning. Wanna meet at my office? Should be quiet there."

We set up a tentative plan. Which two hours later became less tentative. I was able to fit my workout in and shower, then drove straight to his work building right from the gym. Traffic was heavy with the run-up to Christmas, but I still made it on time. It was the first time I'd ever been to Scott's work. He did a great job of keeping me separate from his regular life. I think he thought I'd be offended by that, but I had experience dating married men. Maybe too much.

He was waiting at the entrance. It was cold out, and he had a knee-length camel-colored winter coat on and a plaid scarf that set off his handsome features and silvery temples. "Hey," he smiled as he took his hands out of his pocket and offered his hand for a shake.

It felt weird to shake his hand, but we were in public and this was Scott in his business mode. He was even wearing a suit.

"What's going on?" I asked, chuckling some.

Scott had an impish grin. "I thought we'd have a private Christmas celebration. Just you and me."

"Here?" I asked.

"Here, buddy," he said with a wink. "Come on."

I followed him and I felt nervous. Mostly because it felt like we were risking something by walking into his office building together, even on a Saturday.

It was deserted of course, except for the security guard. "Good day, Mr. Delahunt..." the older African-American man greeted. "Another working weekend?"

"Fraid so," Scott said. "Have some project materials to give Matt here..." he lied.

The man waved us on and soon we were taking the elevator up, way up. I think I had a fantasy idea of what a C-suite office would look like. Scott Delahunt's corner office lived up to that fantasy. Spacious, amazing view, modern furnishings, big desk.

He shut the door behind us and took off his overcoat. He wore one of his pinstripe suits, along with a banker-striped shirt and patterned tie.

I set down the shopping bag I carried, one with his presents. "I brought you your Christmas gifts," I said, excited for him to open it.

He seemed pleased and said, "I have one for you, too, buddy.... but first things first... why don't you have a seat.... over in my chair."

"You mean?"

He nodded. "It's your fantasy, right?"

I'd told him about this one all right. Turns out Scott was determined to make it a reality. I'd barely sat down in his plush leather swivel chair when the middle-aged exec undid his coat button and knelt down on the floor in front of me, almost half under his own desk. He reached out and ran his hands up my jeans and then undid my fly.

I was rock hard within seconds. Particularly as his fingers pulled down my boxer briefs and freed me for his inspection.

"How does your fantasy go?" he asked as he gave my hard tool soft gentle strokes.

"Pretty much like this," I gulped. "The big boss servicing me at his desk."

He took his eyes off my cock and looked up at me. So frickin handsome in his suit and tie. "You like being the big boss for a change, huh?"

"Oh god," I grunted and nodded. Amazed he was indulging my turns on so effortlessly.

"Well, sit back and enjoy," he hissed. Then he took me into his mouth. He was slower than normal. Almost torturously sly. I could tell he wanted me to relish this scene. I'd dreamed of it, and here Scott was, delivering it on a silver platter. His hot executive mouth working me up and down. His suit bunching up some as he hunched his shoulders to brace his upper body on my thighs.

Soon those slow strokes were going deep. All the way to my pubes. "Ah FUCK!" I hissed. Looking around the walls and out the window. Amazed I could enjoy this professional space of his as our private sexual space. "Suck my cock, boss!" I hissed.

My hand rested on his head and now pushed him down on me with each deep swallow. Just enough roughness to turn me on, but not so much as to freak Scott out. He seemed to sense my need and one hand left my thigh to take my wrist to guide it to his head.

I pumped his throat now, lifting my hips off that chair to fuck into his hot mouth. I tested his gag reflex, once but only once. Amazingly he took it for the twenty or thirty seconds it took me to work toward my cum. I looked out the window once more, then back down on his reddened face, a tear forming from the corner of his eye. My hot cocksucking dad.

I blasted. Thankfully I let up my grip when I did, and Scott pulled off for a quick gasp of air as I painted my belly with come. Until his mouth took me in to suck the rest. When I was done Scott pulled off and started licking the sperm from my abdomen. Sucking it all up.

I could tell he was hard in his suit when he pulled back. "Merry Christmas, stud."

"Maybe I can return the favor." Like I said, I rarely offered to blow Scott these days. But I didn't like how his wife sometimes cut him off, and this was the holidays...

I knew I'd said the right thing. "Yeah?" He stood up and reached down to unzip. "I know you're into being the top... but it's been so long since I've had a good blow job buddy. And you were the one to give it to me."

His spike popped out, leaking and ready. I wheeled the chair in and started licking him. I knew it wouldn't take long to suck him off. I decided to enjoy this, feeling that spike fill my mouth and the soft gentle in and out motions as I bobbed on him.

"Getting there, man," he warned, spreading his legs. Then I felt that dick jerk in my mouth and flood my craw with his daddy seed. I suckled a little as I swallowed then pulled off.

"I don't do that for you enough," I muttered. Torn between my fantasy of dad-fucking sex and the reality of being grateful for Scott Delahunt and what he meant to me.

Scott nodded as he tucked back in. "You do prefer to be serviced," he observed.

"Pretty much," I blushed.

He looked at me thoughtfully then leaned down for a soft kiss. He patted my shoulder as he leaned back up. "I love making you happy, Austin. You know that. But maybe, you think, on occasion, we can find a way for that?"

"Yeah," I conceded. "You must think I'm an asshole."

He reached in his coat pocket. "Here's how much of an asshole I consider you," he smirked. "A little early Christmas present."

"I think I know what it is," I said as I opened the card. There were two Titans tickets and a gift card for TopGolf.

"I know you're not a regular golfer, but I figured it would be fun if you wanted to go some time. You know, when the weather's warm."

"That'd be awesome," I said. I then looked at the inscription of the card.

"Merry Christmas, Austin.... Thank you for making me a new man. Love, Scott."

I bit my lip then looked up at the man, who was looking at me with such openness. "You like making me emotional, don't ya?" I laughed.

"It's a good look on you," he smiled.

"Well, I have some gifts for you, too," I said. "You can read the card later, if you like."

Scott rooted in the bag and pulled out the card. "I can't read it now?"

"You can," I said. "But it's corny."

"I like corny," he winked and undid the envelope flap. It was another one of my heartfelt letters inside. Talking about how I never got along with my dad, but I considered Scott to be the kind of dad I wished I'd had.

He looked up at me. "Oh, buddy."

"Too much?" I asked.

"Not at all," he said. "I'm honored. Truly."

I blushed. I wasn't used to being this vulnerable with another guy. "Just a warning: the gifts are kinda 'dad' gifts."

Scott laughed and pulled out the small box, the golf balls. "Nice," he said. Then looking up at me. "You ever think about playing? For real?"

"I'd need a hell of a lot of practice," I said. "Or maybe lessons."

"That could be arranged," he smiled. He looked me up and down. "You got the strength and athletic ability to do real well."

I thanked him then nodded to the bigger box. "Open the other one."

He seemed genuinely wowed by the golf top. "It's perfect, man," he said. Then leaned forward for a kiss. "Listen, I got about an hour and a half before I gotta be back. What do you think of grabbing some lunch somewhere?"

It wasn't fancy or anything. Just a regular burger lunch spot. But in my eyes Scott and I had our Christmas meal together there. It would become our tradition, actually.

[SCOTT]

"Come on, it'll be fun," I said to my daughter. "We've done Europe three summers in a row."

"Your father has gotten on one of his mid-life kicks," Kelly explained.

"We both have," I reminded her. I wasn't the one who'd signed up for baking classes.

Shannon giggled. As much as I sometimes griped to Austin about my spoiled daughter, it was still always great to see her. She was young and happy and her happiness was infectious. "I just can't believe you've been using Austin as your trainer."

Kelly sidled up to the kitchen island with a wine glass in hand. She liked to let loose over the holidays. "I think Austin has some extra business because of him," he put her arms around my shoulder. "My girlfriends all have pestered their husbands to go to him."

I blushed. Maybe I was a grade-A heel for acting like everything was normal. Like I wasn't having sex with Austin a couple of times a week. But I'd been open about developing a close friendship with my trainer. It was kind of in an "I always did like that kid" kind of tone.

But this was more. I had told Kelly and Shannon my dream of hiking Glacier National Park and was upfront this was something Austin was helping me train for. We'd be doing spring hikes in Tennessee and aim for a July trip out west. Austin and I would do the hike and then we'd meet in some resort.

"Linda Price says Jackson Hole is overrated," Kelly chimed in. "She says the smaller resorts are the real deal and much nicer."

"Can I bring Bryan?" Shannon asked. Her boyfriend of the moment.

"Of course," I said. "And some friends if you like." Maybe I figured that this would help sell the trip. But also, I knew it would be awkward to seem like I saw making Shannon's ex the only other person there.

"How come you didn't ask me to do the hike, Dad?" Shannon teased. She could get in her "girl boss" mode sometimes.

I shrugged. "You strike me as more the glamping type."

She laughed. "Maybe. Yeah."

[AUSTIN]

I really worked Scott hard that Tuesday.

"You should have pity on an old man," he teased as we walked out to our cars. It was February and plenty dark out at 8.

"I know what I'm doing," I asserted. "I specialize in training older guys, remember."

"I remember," he said. Then, quietly, Scott asked. "Have there been others? Besides me?"

He didn't spell it out but I knew what he meant. "You serious?" I asked.

"That’s not a no," he said.

"No one else," I assured him. "Yeah, sure, sometimes it's fun to look but you're the one exception to my business-only rule."

He liked that answer. I liked that he liked it. "Hell of an exception, buddy.'

I laughed. "Got time to come back to my place?" Sometimes he didn't but this was as close to routine as we'd get.

"You bet."

He was surprised when he walked in. I had a massage table set up in my living room.

"What's this?" he laughed. "Starting a side business?"

I'm not licensed," I explained. "But we did sports massage some in Kinesiology at UT."

He looked at me. "For me?"

I grinned. "I can't afford a fancy gift, but you have a birthday this week." I pointed to the table. "Come on, strip down and I'll help you relax."

He grinned and started taking off his workout sweats. I enjoyed seeing him hard. But I urged him to lie face down first.

I took my time. I applied massage oil to his daddy muscle and slowly worked it in. Like a lot of exec types, Scott was tense as hell, and our workout hadn't helped. But he moaned and shut his eyes softly as I worked him.

I did what I knew how, but there was a lot of improvising. And some more sensual, sexual stimulation, up the insides of his thighs, and along his ass.

“Turn over,” I instructed. There was his rigid spike again, leaking on his belly. But I didn't touch it. I started with his temples, then down his neck and shoulders. I could sense the tension leave him, even if I wasn't an expert.

Or else the tension was going straight to his prick. I went to the other end. I started with the calves and worked up the legs, one then the other. Finally I grabbed hold of his hardon with my oiled hand and pumped.

I didn't have any special technique here, either, but I was mimicking a tug motion, like milking a cow's udder. Scott was so worked up. He opened his eyes. Hungrily feasting on my shirtless body.

"Austin!" he hissed. And like that sperm flew out, over my first and up onto his chest.

His body tensed in aftershocks, then he reached out to touch my own tented crotch. "Let me do you," he urged. I'd been ready to make this a special Scott day. But I wasn't gonna turn down a blow job. I pulled my sweats down and let my hard cock just toward his face.

Scott twisted his position and took me into his mouth. He'd gotten so good at this. Rapidly he worked his head and up and down while I took in the vision of his naked body. Older, beautiful, just having had its own release.

I pulled out. My prick spurted on Scott's tongue which got him to open wide for the rest of my load. Some of it hit his chin and dribbled down but the man caught most of it before circling his lips back on me to suck it all down.

"You've never done that," he remarked when he finally sat up.

"Yeah, I wanted to see the cum," I explained.

"Was hot," he said as he leaned in for a kiss.

I let him shower the oil off. "I'm gonna sleep well," he said as he came in fully dressed again. Ready to head back home.

"I'm glad. Happy early birthday, Scott."

"I won't be able to spend any time with you this weekend," he explained.

"I get it," I assured him. "For real."

He gave me a nod. I could see some conflicted emotions but stoically he walked out of my pace and into the February cold.

[SCOTT]

Two years ago I would have hated a place like this. But it was a warm March day and I was hanging out with Austin at TopGolf. It was a blast. He had a competitive streak and though I was a better hitter, he had some power in his drives. He got into keeping tally of our scores.

"Good thing it's not a putt putt challenge," he said. "My Dad would always take us when we were in Gatlinburg. I got pretty good."

"How long ago was that?" I asked as I sipped my beer.

"A while," he admitted. "But a few of my buddies and I would actually go play when we were in college. We'd get hammered then make bets on who'd get the best score."

I laughed. "Sounds like a country club," I deadpanned. "Only the drinks would cost more."

"How's the trip planning going?" Austin asked after his turn. He was responsible for the hike planning for Montana, but I was arranging flights, hotels, transportation, park reservations, the rest of it.

"All booked," I said. "You're gonna have to put up with Shannon and her friends."

"It'll be fine," Austin grinned. "I'm a charming guy." He was a little tipsy, I could tell. "Just tell me we're gonna have some alone time, Mr. D."

I smiled. "A week backpacking's not enough alone time?"

"I mean after," he said. "I'm greedy that way."

"We gotta be careful," I cautioned him. "But you have a way of getting me to do things for you, Mr. White."

[AUSTIN]

"How you doing?" I asked as we entered a steeper stretch. I had tried to give myself more of the weight, but Scott insisted on carrying an equal load in our packs.

"Doing good," he said, a little out of breath and very much breaking a sweat, but not making a show of it. "I have a personal trainer who's whipped me into shape."

I laughed. "The gym's different from the trail," I reminded him.

Scott was never short with me, but he was getting short now. "I told you I wanted a challenge, buddy, and I meant it. I'm good."

I was used to type-A corporate types in my job, and it was times like this that I remembered Scott Delahunt was one of them.

The first day was the longest and hardest, and when we got to our first spot to set up, Scott was quiet, almost moody. "Can we rest for a sec?" he asked as we plopped down on a rock. He looked out over the landscape. Parts of the Smokies weren't dramatic. This was dramatic. But contemplation of the scenery was the last thing on Scott's mind. "Glad we beat the thunderstorm," he said as he pulled out his water bottle and took a good swig.

I let him be frustrated. I'd gotten real good at reading Scott's moods. I took a good swig of water myself and enjoyed just being up in the mountains again. Then I got up and gently squeezed Scott's shoulder and walked over to unpack the tent.

He was actually really efficient at helping put it up. "You learn those knots in Scouts?" I asked.

"Probably," he smiled. I was glad to see his humor return. "But I forgot them. I studied up before coming."

I fixed the last of the tiers to the poles. "Looks like that thunderstorm is coming," I said as I looked up to the sky, feeling the breeze pick up just as the clouds were really darkening.

We got the bags inside the tent. I had the foresight to take a tarp and stretch it over some exposed rock dirt and secure it with rocks. We'd want somewhere dry to cook and eat.

The drops came, a few of them, then a lot. I got in the tent first, and Scott ducked in a second after.

"Welcome to the Smokies," I said.

"Love it," came his reply. We plopped down on the tent floor. Scott unfurled his sleeping bag as I did mine.

"I hope we're only using one of these bags," I teased.

Scott looked over, a playful look in his eyes. "Tight fit," he said. Already he was untucking his shirt. "But maybe we can test it out."

I was matching his moves. "I'm a little sweaty," I said.

"So am I," Scott replied. "The hike leader is a real slavedriver."

He managed to get naked first and I saw that beautiful dad spike sticking out of his crotch. I loved every hardon Scott threw for me, with me and around me.

We scooted toward one another. The tent wasn't that big anyway. "We can take our time, right?" I asked.

The rain was coming down. It felt magical. The right time with the right man. The two of us alone in nature.

We kissed and humped against one another. His body was warm and clammy. He gripped my own sweaty muscle. It felt like how men should have sex.

Apparently that's what Scott thought. He pulled back and ran his hands along my arm muscle, from my forearm to my biceps and triceps and then back. "It's nice being with a man," he said, thoughtfully. "Sometimes, I still can't believe it."

I looked into his face. Just that older, dad-like handsomeness was enough to make me and keep me rock hard. The lines around his eyes, and the salt and pepper hair, now grayer than when I first met him. "I've always been too scared to ask you, but you ever get weirded out by it?"

That caught him by surprise. "Why are you afraid to ask?" he hissed then kissed along my chin. I liked this private version of Scott a lot. Sensual as much as sexual.

"I dunno," I said. "Maybe a part of me is always afraid you'll go back to being straight."

He looked at me, taking in my words. "It's not about words for me, Austin. I can't explain."

"You don't have to," I said. "Some things can be put into words anyway."

He nodded. "Maybe. Still, I don't want you afraid to ask me anything. Ever."

"OK," I said. I rolled over on top of him. Just this position got me going. I held my body up above him and felt his hands explore my lats and sides as we looked into each other's eyes. "Do you love me, Scott?"

He didn't hesitate. "I do." I could feel his heart pump through the connection of our dicks. "I don't want to lead you on, Austin. Maybe I can't give you what you need. But I love you."

I smiled. "You give me plenty, sir."

"Sir?" he laughed.

I blushed. But gently thrust my cock against his. "My parents taught me to respect my elders." Kind of teasing, but also suggesting to Scott what was on my mind.

I could see the wheels turning in his head. "I've been afraid to ask you things, too."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Are you looking for a daddy?"

I raised my eyebrow. "You've been studying up on the gays," I teased.

"I gotta keep up with you somehow, Austin," he said sincerely. "But you didn't answer my question."

"I have a daddy already," I said directly, getting the courage to look him in the eye as I described my fantasy, my kink. "I guess I'm looking for a dad."

His fingers now lazily traced circles along my flank. "Sorry. You're gonna have to explain."

I scooted off him, taking the chance to run my hand along his chest and furry abs. He'd slimmed down a lot over the last month, and I could see knotted ridges of his abs now. "A daddy is any older guy I'm with. But a dad.... well, I get turned on by the incest fantasy."

I examined his face for a hostile reaction. Or a positive one. Instead I saw pure curiosity as Scott reached over and wrapped his hand around my cock. "You're rock hard just talking about it."

I nodded. "We don't have to explore this," I assured him. "But I think about it when we have sex. A lot."

"You think of your father instead of me?" I could tell he was a little hurt by that idea.

"Fuck no," I interjected. "I dream of you being my dad. And being with you that way... Sorry if that freaks you out."

He shook his head and removed his hand from my dick. "Doesn't freak me out. It's a new idea to me. A little weird. But I like seeing you turned on." He turned over and I got an amazing view of his backside as Scott rifled through his backpack. I'll just say his back and leg workouts were paying real dividends.

When he turned back he had some lubricant in his hand. "It's been too long," he said. "You wanna?"

I nodded. There would be no rim job this time nor any extended foreplay, but it turns out we were both worked up. The thunderstorm had passed, but the rain still pattered on our tent. Scott scooted in place beneath me and let me place his legs on my shoulders. I decided I like this position, a lot. The ability to see Scott's handsome face as I penetrated him.

"I'm not ready for the 'dad' talk," he said. "But if you wanna think it..." he urged.

Just that permission felt wild. I pumped Scott slow and deep. And he became Dad as I fucked. My hunky, wonderful Dad who let his son have his way far too often. Like now. Scott's eyes looked up at me, knew what I was thinking, his hands urging me to enjoy this fuck.

He was enjoying it, too, his own fist working his spike slowly with each steady pump of my cock inside him. His body enjoying that connection between his p-spot and his dick.

I had an idea though. I nudged his hand aside with my own. Grabbing his cock like a handle, I took over stroking him. Focusing a little less on my own immediate need, though after so long Scott's ass felt amazing on my bare cock.

"You like this?" I asked. Eyes on his as I fucked.

He nodded excitedly, amazed at feeling a different hand than his as we mated. "God yes."

"Keep your hands to the side, OK?" I asked and more than a little commanded. "I wanna get you off."

His eyes were pure excitement as he let his body take over. I was getting real close to nutting myself but I wanted to see if this would work first. I knew Scott loved seeing me get my pleasure and the telltale look on my face was tripping his triggers.

"Keep your hands off!" I urged, louder now.

Scott nodded eagerly, already on the climb toward orgasm.

Just at that moment I let go and put all the power into my thrusts. By instinct Scott's hand went up but I intercepted. And like that, I was watching Scott Delahunt have his first hands-free orgasm. That spike spurting high globs of semen onto his furry front as his body jerked and his deep voice cried out.

"Yes," I hissed and like that I was shooting my wad deep into the man.

The man fell back onto the sleeping bag, head limp as he caught his breath. I slowly pulled out and let his legs come down from my shoulders.

"That was SO hot, Scott," I said as I leaned down to kiss him, his spermy body connecting with my sweaty muscle.

"I'm glad," Scott muttered as he pulled my hard body to his. "I still can't think," he laughed. "You fucked it all out of me."

[sepublic]

For reference: You know how the GEverse originally started off as an elaborate Ninjago fanfic that evolved into even more elaborate fanon? Everything to do with the Monster Realm, the Council of Warlocks, the new Monster Fighters; That also started off as fanon for another, much more obscure and shorter-lived Lego theme called Monster Fighters.

It only lasted for one wave and I only got one set (the Werewolf one), but MAN I loved the theme's vibes and aesthetic and played the website's game for a bit, too! I liked it so much that I wrote a 'novelization' for the story that I posted on the Lego message boards, although I never finished it alas.

Stuff like the Magestones? Very blatantly the Moonstones, down to identical designs for all save one of them; Since I was changing a few things to make it more my own now that I embraced it as such, that made me realize I could also change the Moonstones, now Magestones.

And so the red one, once sporting a vampire bat as its symbol and giving the power to control one's minions, was instead reimagined as an homage to the Philosopher's Stone, with a bubbling witch's cauldron. I did this to make it more befitting its wielder Kisonus, though in-universe, the Red Magestone's power of transmutation was used by Varney to alter its symbol to that of a bat, to fit HIS aesthetics. The Red Magestone is strange and special like that.

Since vampires in a lot of media can transform into different creatures, I imagine this is how Varney used the Red Magestone; I think in the GEverse that all vampires can turn into bats, but maybe Varney is special in that he can transform into an entire swarm thanks to the Red Magestone. When Kisonus gets it back, she restores its intended appearance.

But yeah, all that lore about how the current Monster Fighters are technically a next-gen story, and how they follow in the footsteps of their predecessors? That story is the one seen in Lego Monster Fighters, with the vampire villain being named just Lord Vampyre, and his wife nameless; In my fanfic, I named her Lydia E. Vampyre and I intend to keep that.

I haven't figured out and finalized everything yet, so I'm still reusing a lot of the same names and appearances as placeholders. So the group is called the Monster Fighters, and the family that our main protagonist belongs to is known as the Rathbones. I'll figure out eventually a new, legally-distinct surname. The same goes for the other OG Monster Fighters, who are currently identical to their Lego counterparts.

Everything to do with the Council of Warlocks was my idea for a sequel to the Lego Monster Fighters story; Like what if after Lord Vampyre was defeated, there was a new set of villains to claim the Moonstones!!! What if we delved into the mysterious origins of the Moonstones, that sort of thing. This story was always meant to be connected with the larger Ninjago universe, more specifically my fanon version of it, and the same applies now that both stories are independent from their source material.

I probably need to change a bit more about this story in case this somehow ever becomes like, a bigger thing and I don't want a lawsuit from Lego. Monster Fighters is relatively obscure and short-lived though, so I wonder how much I could 'get away with' so to speak. Lego Monster Fighters itself is a mishmash of legally-distinct takes on Universal Monsters after all, and a lot of the elements, individually, aren't too unique. But all together, it's definitely a bit obvious.

But if Resident Evil 8 and Metroid Dread can rip off mechanical monstrosities from Frankenstein's Army and Red Planet without any issue, maybe it's not that big a deal. Most of what I'm borrowing is relegated as backstory anyhow, with the main focus being on a new generation and new, original villains; It's mostly the Magestones that carry over, so I might not be seen as 'worth the effort'. If Lego can avoid a lawsuit from Universal by making their blatant homage barely different enough, maybe I'm also safe, though I don't have an army of lawyers. But then again, everyone's done legally-distinct knock offs of Universal Monsters, so it's the Magestones I'm more worried about haha.

[lover-of-mine]

“Anon who straight up spoiled the loft scene for me last week, can you come back with your thoughts for the rest of the season? I'm curious to see your line of thought and I'm so sorry I doubted you 🩷”

i don’t know if you mean me or not but i DID send you a message recently about how the buddie loft scene could parallel the bucktommy loft scene… i’m shocked that i was sort of right honestly 😭

i know it wasn’t an exact parallel but… the dark warm lighting?? the soft discussion?? the Moment (kiss/hug) in the exact same spot between the table and island?? tommy/eddie leaving with advice to call eddie/tommy?? the final shot of buck letting out a sigh of relief??

gotta be on purpose surely??

i haven’t had the chance to think about the rest of the season yet lmao but in my opinion, last nights episode wasn’t bad for buddie i don’t think? there were lots of lines that could be revisited in the context of canon buddie if they choose to go there, like bobby’s advice, the catholic guilt, “i wish i could help” lmaooooo. and the interviews too! ryan basically saying women are all eddie knows but he thinks eddie will start exploring what he doesn’t?? lou saying it was meant to be eddie/tommy?? so queer eddie was/is on the table, the writers can see that a queer arc would lend well to his character/storyline just like we can??

slightly unrelated, but people are already saying that ryan is against kissing boys lol so that’s why it was bucktommy instead… 1. we definitely know that’s not true and 2. he’s right that a queer arc wouldn’t fit eddie right now? starting s7 he was with a woman but buck was single, so it made sense to be buck even though i wish with every fiber of my being that they had still gone with eddie haha

idk i’m always gonna be hopeful for buddie until the series finale and even then i’m still gonna ship them (save me fix it fics). but i do not understand people closing on buddie, it really feels like they’re keeping the possibility more open than they ever have before for their relationship to change in the future ❤️

Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is you because I think that was the only ask I got about the loft scene paralleling the Bucktommy kiss and I legit was like "dude the anon was right" and had to race here to check kspsksoaksokas I really didn't think they were gonna be as on the nose as they were but they really were and I'm still ???? about because the whole you're not sure of your feelings thing with Maddie and everything with Tommy, Buck still not knowing what he wants but the VERY obvious parallels between both scenes are gonna drive me crazy lol please come back and tell me the thoughts once you figure them out, I'm genuinely curious to see what you think because you did get the vibe right and vibes are the thing that keep confusing me tbh

And honestly, Ryan acts like his main purpose in life is to be allowed to get paid to make out with Oliver, what do you mean he doesn't want to kiss boys? I don't think switching this arc around would work as well as it does for Eddie, I think realistically, freshly single Eddie would be a lot more freaked out if a guy he's known for a few weeks just kissed him, I don't think the progression we are seeing with Buck would work the same way because Eddie sexuality is set up differently, Buck has always been more casual about the physicality of a relationship, we literally haven't even seen Eddie kiss someone besides Shannon until last night. I know it wouldn't be a direct one on one switch, but I think letting Buck figure out with someone else's help while letting Eddie think about what it could mean for him that Buck is a guy and he's dating a guy, and he's dating a guy Eddie has a lot in common with that could get Eddie to be like "huh, maybe they do have the right idea" and look into the possibility of him being attracted to men on his own will makes a lot more sense, if that's the thing direction this is going. It was the impression I got from Eddie's contemplative *huh* upon finding out Tommy is gay, because considering how the show established how similar Eddie and Tommy are, to have Eddie be a little "oh i didn't know this was an option for us" even more since they are finally adding the religious trauma angle to canon, like, we knew, but good to know Eddie knows now too, could lead to something interesting. It's like we've all been saying, Buck's needs to figure out he's into men but Eddie needs to figure out he's into Buck. Buck is already there, and Eddie could trip into the realization whenever they want him to. Dude has been there ever since the end of season 5, Eddie knows how to soul search, he just needs the right trigger. This might be it. This feels like it could be it. It's getting too close to the point for them not to get there. All I know is I will be on the boat until the show ends and then stay on the boat because what if there's a revival and they suddenly decide it's time to make them canon yk? No one will ever take the hope away from me.

Also, thank you for coming back 🩷🩷

[lightning-witch-jenny]

My stupid metatextual analysis of Pokemon's Teal Mask DLC

I MIGHT BE WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING I SAY HERE THESE ARE DERANGED AND INSANE RAMBLES. if you have anything to add or reason to think I'm flat out wrong please tell me!

You know it, I know it, the Teal Mask DLC is based on the story of Momotaro. For those who don't know what the hell a Momotaro is, here's a video that explains it because I don't want to have to explain what it is!

I'm going to assume you already know the story or watched the video and now know the story. If otherwise what the hell are you doing here

SO ANYWAY it seems to me that The Teal Mask is an anti-nationalist message. The story of Momotaro represented Japan taking down the west and getting fat loot at their expense. The Teal Mask takes that story and flips it on its head and says the Oni was good and Momotaro's crew were bad. Follow this train of logic and the story takes on a new meaning.

Ogerpon, as with the Oni in the tale, represents the west, or at the very least a foreigner from the west. Take into account "Ogre" is an english word which Oni is often translated as, and yet even in japanese her name is still OGERpon, and she is still referred to as "an Ogre," even though she is clearly based on the Oni from Momotaro. Almost like there's a reason they'd want to use a western term for Ogerpon's name. And considering its implied she and her friend were from the future and sent back to ancient Kitakami (Japan) that checks out. If we examine it from this angle the story has a new layer. Suddenly the backstory of Ogerpon is about how she and her friend were rejected for their cultural differences. They were an outsider in a land so different to them, they couldn't be accepted this way. Them wearing the masks is probably representative of them as foreigners trying to fit in with the new culture they find themselves in and finding acceptance in their conformity.

And In Come The Loyal Three (I will not be discussing "Dokutaro." I will take the story as is currently presented)

I don't think the Loyal Three literally represent all of Japan's people, I think rather, they represent Japanese nationalists. Their name of "The Loyal Three" might represent how on a meta level they represent loyalty to their home and culture. So in a literal story sense they steal the masks and kill Ogerpon's friend because they want that Fat Loot, but I think what this represents is nationalists refusing to accept foreigners into their culture and taking back what is "theirs." They are reclaiming their culture from someone they think does not deserve to be a part in it, even though they have been living there for some time. The Loyal Three KILL this man over it!

I uh... I don't know what Ogerpon killing The Loyal Three in retribution is meant to map to. Or if it represents anything deeper. And YEAH you can say "oh it represents how the usa dropped the bombs on japan which is why ivy cudgel is busted!" but you're WRONG and STUPID. So far the plot seems to suggest something more small scale. Ogerpon seems to represent an immigrant to japan, and The Loyal Three represent nationalists. You can't then turn around and say that in this specific point in the backstory they default to the roles they have in Momotaro where Ogerpon is the whole USA and The Loyal Three are all of Japan.

That out of the way it's easy to see in this reading why the people believe Ogerpon to be the villain, a foreigner just killed three native people. In-game it's just "they got confused and thought the Loyal Three had just defeated the vile ogre" but with this reading their reactions make more sense

And then of course the actual events of the game. Your two rivals are one Kitakami native who hates outsiders and wants them to stay away and seems to respect the Loyal Three, and one who to the contrary is obsessed with Ogerpon and you, the player, a foreign westerner

Now it's important to note at this point in the story, The Loyal Three and Ogerpon are not active players, they are ideas clouded by lies. So I think IN THIS CASE, The Loyal Three and Ogerpon represent Japan and the west. Specifically in the context of Carmine and Kieran's opinions of them. Considering Carmine is distrustful of you on the grounds that you are a foreigner and Kieran is fascinated by you (and very quickly becomes obsessed to a toxic degree)

Over the course of the story as the truth is revealed, Carmine learns that foreigners deserve a fair chance, while Kieran downward spirals. I believe this is meant to represent how one should be accepting of foreign cultures but not obsessed with a culture that they aren't a part of.

And of course, while Ogerpon gets its masks back, it ends the story being allowed to visit the village without them. This probably is meant to symbolize that Ogerpon is now free to partake in the culture it was shunned from, but she does not have to conform to that culture and can still be herself.

There are probably a lot of things I missed, and I feel both as if this is a reach AND a surface level reading. But overall it really comes across to be as if The Teal Mask is an anti-nationalist allegory, flipping the tale of Momotaro on its head to show such thinking is wrong, and rather than see foreigners as enemies to defeat, one should respect them and welcome them.

[breakbeatbun]

i did a lot of "boy things" as a kid and I've always felt less "girl" because of it, i never played with stuff that was considered feminine, partly because i was afraid of judgment, but also i found "boy stuff" more appealing. it's tough not relating to one's peers in a binary way. i would love to play cars

tags on this post for context

i was raised by a mechanic and carpenter so a lot of my early free time was spent in a barn full of tools, machines, welding masks, piles of cut-up BMX bikes we'd find in the garbage, stripped-bare sandrails and their engines, couple rifles or compound bows here or there, probably listening to whatever crusty old rock music my dad put on. hell, i was rowing through the gears of my mom's old square body S10 while she drove us to the store before i was barely tall enough to see over the dash. "hanging out with friends" was playing Guitar Hero or Racing & Skateboarding Video Games, or riding our bikes and skinning our knees. "hanging out with dad" was often target shooting in the backyard or building something; I rarely ever held the flashlight, i had the tools in my hands and grease under my fingernails.

that's a lot of exposition but i'm trying to paint the most specific picture i can! TL;DR, a lot of arguably "boy things" in my upbringing, and i fit right into it, lot of fondness in my heart for it still!

around the time i had my big Gender Awakening at the tail-end of high school i had already been Online for a bit - hell i learned what it meant to feel non-binary from this very website circa 2013 - but it wouldn't be until maybe 2019 or so when i moved out that i really started making other queer and trans friends, and it was pretty immediately obvious that i was extremely different from the rest of my community, both online and offline. of course, nobody was rude about it, everybody was VERY respectful of my name and my pronouns and my identity, but it was still really easy for me to feel "othered" because our shared experiences didn't line up at all; At most maybe i got made fun of for having long hair. it made it really easy to feel like i wasn't doing enough work to justify my queerness.

at the other end of that spectrum, i recently tried on she/her pronouns at the front of my bio, just to see if i was missing something, and i was quickly met with an IMMEDIATE outpour of support from friends and community alike. SO many people were loud about being So Proud of me, Knew i Had It In Me, i had multiple friends message me privately to offer information and easy routes to HRT "just in case ;)" i was thinking about it! and, yeah, it's nice to have that kinda support, i'll admit! but it was hard not to feel a little invalidated in not wanting to change. it really felt like a lot of people, close friends even, just kinda saw me as a trans woman waiting to have a bigger realization, as though being non-binary was just a meaningless stepping-stone to something greater. and i mean, i can't blame them, they just wanted to help!!

today i'm pretty firmly Queer/non-binary (with a little bit of Girl on the side when it's either Appropriate or Funny), and my body and voice are very much unaltered from the ones i was born with. virtually indistinguishable from a cishet version of myself, just with the he/him lopped off and they/she sloppily appended in its place; simply because i don't have the energy or don't care to put much effort into change, and that's very much fine for me. I know damn well i don't owe it to anybody but myself anyway, granted none of it tends to matter much when you present as a rabbit girl on the internet LOL. I'm thankful to have built myself a little space where i can engage with others like me, or where other queers feel welcome to express interest in the things that I'M all about! even if it's a little few and far between. still struggle with feeling like i fit in with The Girls tho LMAO.

IDK! this post is my half-baked love letter to my fellow AMAB NB folks who get treated like Cis Men, Trans Women who don't "put the effort in," or Anyone who can Otherwise Relate in the same, or even an opposite sort of way. we are playing cars together

[buckleydiazes]

Hello fellow bylers, I saw some tags on a Stranger Things post by @biigiiiii making conjecture about being gay in the 80s and I thought, well my dad was a gay teen in the 80s, let me ask him! And it was originally intended to just be sent via messages but then I figured it would be easier to structure as a text post and idk maybe someone else would be interested in hearing his thoughts. All of this is his own personal experience, obviously that is not universal. Hopefully someone finds this interesting or enlightening in some way though.

Gays at Large

What was the general feeling toward LGBTQ people in the 80s?

Homophobia was bad enough that people did not give a second thought to it or how damaging what they were saying was. Between the AIDS epidemic and Raegan administration, homophobia was extremely commonplace and pretty ingrained in Western culture. It was generally more prominent in rural areas than cities — that much has not changed.

The Q Word

How does he feel about the word queer and has his feelings changed at all over the years?

Well, despite rampant homophobia, there had also been a lot of pushing for LGBT advocacy in recent years. The Stonewall Rebellion happened in 1969, which had a significant effect on American society. A year later, in 1970, were the first gay pride marches. For my dad, queer was a word that had already been reclaimed by many, and so therefore meant little to him. In his words, "I'm a queer? A [f slur]? Tell me something I don't know. What, are you going to call me a [hispanic slur] next? 🙄"

Knowing vs Awareness

Was he aware he was gay as a teen? No but yes. As with many who are considered different by society's strandards, there is always an undercurrent of Knowing that you are different. You understand, on some deep level, that you are not fitting the mold that you should be. But that doesn't mean you actively aware and thinking about it. In fact, a lot of people do their best to not think about it and pretend to be "normal."

In my dad's case, he knew he was different, but he didn't "have time" to think about it that much. There was other things going on in his life that made it easier to put thoughts of his sexuality on the back burner. And yet, despite this suppression, he still was keenly aware of other people's attitudes toward LGBTQ folk, which became a sort of sixth sense.

Hypervigilance is Exhausting

As a survival instinct, my dad was always on the look out for who was "safe" and who wasn't. My dad was not a particular flamboyant person and he was into more "masculine" interests (his career is in HVAC, plumbing, and electric, and his hobbies involve listening to the news and playing the guitar); this made it easier for him to fit in, but he still could not ever truly let his guard down. This became so ingrained that he sometimes wonders if his personality would have ended up different had he been allowed to be himself without fear. Fear is a powerful tool in shaping a young mind, after all. And it's also so very wearying. Eventually, he got to a poijt in his life where he decided to hell with what everyone else thinks and feels and he would be himself shamelessly because there's not enough years in a life to be constantly forcing yourself into a socially acceptable boxm

The Curse of Internalized Homophobia

But...what about internalized homophobia? Yeah, unfortunately, he very much experienced it. And, even more unfortunately, it found its way into his speech, throwing around some homophobic slurs of his own before he came out of the closet. According to him, he has known many a gay man who shared in homophobic language during their closeted/repressed years. I don't think I need to tell anyone how terrible it is the way society can coerce you into being part of your own groups oppression.

Birds of a Feather

Did he know any other gay people though? Again, no but yes. You might have noticed or heard about the concept of gay people flocking together before any of them even know/accept that they're gay. His case is another one for the books. There were definitely a few people he knew were closeted, though he never approached them with the topic, but it wasn't for many years later that he would find out how many people around him were LGBTQ in one way or another.

Funnily enough, he married my mom out of high school, and as it turns out, she's bi and trans. (Trans man, she/her, very complicated history with gender. Also they are divorced but still best friends.)

Stolen Youth and New Hope

So, what is the overall feeling of having been a closeted gay teen in the 80s? Well, like something precious was kept from you. Those experiences that cishet folk got to have, you didn't. So many of the formative experiences many have in their adolescence were not viable for LGBTQ folks—from openly having a partner to just being and presenting how you wanted to. And, like I mentioned before, he was left with a persistent wondering about who he would have been had the world been a better place. (This isn't even something unique to his time either, many LGBTQ folks of all ages feel like this!)

That said, he is still so glad to see the positive changes in the world. He watches things like Heartstopper and is happy that, at the least, he got to live long enough to see that sort of representation on TV. And I think that's lovely. (As a personal aside: fuck you @ everyone who bitched about Heartstopper being "too sanitized", gay people deserve all types of representation on TV. If you don't like a certain kind, move on to something else and let those that do like it enjoy themselves.)

So, yeah, there's all the stuff I talked to my dad about. If you have any further questions for/about him (or my mom perhaps), feel free to shoot me a message!

[makingspiritualityreal]

Firstly, I love your posts soo much!!

Maybe it is the effect of pluto and sun transiting the Aquarius!! that I have an idea..just hear me out.

I wish there were some free open astrology forums that helped people by telling them one positive life event that individual can look forward to based on their charts.

In fact, it would be so nice if the predictive astrology could start offering predictions about more positive events to look forward to such that it becomes slightly easy to bear with what's happening at the present.

Just saying...

💛

Are Predictions Important in Astrology?

I appreciate your message, and it is an excellent time to talk about my perspective on the subject.

I am not a fan of predictive Astrology. I say this as a person who completely understands how it is to feel such despair that you feel like you can't go on another second without having the assurance that your life will get better soon. That's also why people turn to more abstract means of divination, such as tarot.

However, these tools should be used to understand the flow of your life and what your current growth path is about. They're not a take out menu that you pick from. Insistence on predictions has caused many astrologers to be treated very instrumentally. Some people think a psychic is someone who's supposed to just deliver the version of the future that the client is going to like to hear. "you will get married in a year and it will be a June wedding" yeah right lol.

I know many good astrologers. I have yet to see even the best ones I know make a single accurate prediction. When events such as death, loss or illnesses in my family were happening, it was always a surprise. We're not supposed to know such things. Fun fact, my psychic abilities were tingling, up to a year ahead even, but I always ignored them in key moments.

I will explain it to you through an example. My mother died prematurely when I was barely out of high school. She was a single mother, and her death put me on the outs with the rest of my family, that showed their true colours in a difficult situation. It was a shock to everyone because she was very physically healthy and fit, and way too young to die and yet it happened.

A year before her death, she left me alone for the summer in the condo where I grew up with her. I was working in my hometown at that time, in between college semesters, and she found an extra paid summer job with some of our family members that live abroad. It was the first time in my life, that I was without her for that long, and to be frank, I loved the independence, like any very young person does when you let them "off the leash". I remember very clearly the day she left. We used to have family pictures taped to a glass door on a living room cabinet. My grandfather was an avid photographer and we always had plenty of photos with him around. One of the pictures was a close up of my eyes. Because the glass cabinet was positioned close to the living room window, the sun was always streaming in on it. That can cause discoloration in printed photos. On that day, the picture of my eyes had the sun leave long marks on it in such a way, that they looked like tears.

I believe this to be the strongest psychic experience I've ever had, even though I still had years of spiritual learning ahead of me at that point. Because upon seeing that picture, I knew my mom was going to die, and that it was going to cause grief in my life, even though it took over a year for that prediction to come true. I never told anyone about it, and never took that feeling seriously.

Why? Because it was so unbelievable. Because logic was against it. Because I had my own personal feelings and egoic consciousness, that had completely different feelings and desires about my life circumstances. And because it wasn't yet the time of my life when I was mature enough to treat my spiritual journey seriously.

And that is how it was meant to be at the time. Looking back on it now, I remember the feeling of prediction more as a moment of awareness. It was like seeing an inevitable chain of events unfold. Something in my consciousness was smart enough to be able to see so far ahead. Spiritually, I believe it was a warning from my spirit guides, and in a way a friendly one. "Get used to being alone and handling life alone for more than one summer vacation because it's soon gonna become your reality". But I couldn't take it seriously, because my mom and I were fighting a lot at that time, so missing her was not what I had in mind at all. I craved independence, and that feeling was my reality, which I took more seriously than some abstract premonition. In a way, knowing didn't really help me at all in the moment.

And that situation shows perfectly what the problem is with predictions. Human beings are limited by their egos and their flaws and their lack of perspective. That makes them reject whatever doesn't currently fit into their narrative. People don't want a real prediction. They want to hear they're going to get the cookie they're craving. Then they want it over and over and over again.

I understand my journey now, so many years after all these events. But it took so much growing up, that no prediction would ever fix.

There is always something to look forward to in life. Don't try to control it, and let it come to you. When the Universe wants to put you through a certain experience, it will, and there is nothing you can do about it.

[moochi-daisies]

18+, Minors DNI

- series contains drinking, smoking, cursing and tension~

Find the rest here!

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

2012.01.

I'm comfortable making mistakes.

Well-

I guess comfortable isn't the right word. I'm used to making mistakes, I'll put it that way. There's not much use regretting mistakes, sometimes they even turn into happy accidents, right?

I never wanted to consider meeting him a mistake. But here we are- so let's go back.

It's late Fall of 2012 and I'm 20 years old. And I'm in a bit of a "fuck all" era of life. My mom had moved us out of state to live with her alcoholic, albeit sweet boyfriend of the moment and I had no idea what I was doing with myself. There was no direction I was headed in in particular, life was happening and I was simply drifting along with it. Trying my best to stay afloat, trying my best not to panic or drown.

Things were...not the best at home. A polite way of insinuating that traumatized parents were traumatizing their children. That isn't really the point though, I'll spare the details.

I worked part time at a big shot make up company, I went to college classes (sometimes) and I partied. I had been terrified of partying my entire life until my senior year of high school when I decided to swallow my anxiety and learned a loophole around my social fears: drinking.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was young, ok?

I had been aimlessly scrolling through Tumblr one night, mindlessly doing make up in an effort to recognize my face in the mirror when I came across a flier for a show a few states away. It was being held in some bar, the person who posted it being advertised as the main DJ. Looking closer at the picture on the flier, he was cute. Dark hair and pouty lips. A serious gaze and a smirk that flipped my stomach over.

I messaged him on a whim;

Hey you, I wanna come to your show but won't have a place to stay. Gotta room open?

I snorted to myself, surprised by my own audacity. But what the hell right? You only live once as the saying goes.

I put my phone down. Looking back at my reflection, my mood quickly grew somber. Big brown eyes, pouty bottom lip, straight eyelashes on one eye, curly on the other. Each part of my face felt separated. Like they belonged to multiple people. Like they didn't belong all together on just one face.

The girls at work were customer service friendly. Meaning, they knew I bought my makeup from a convenience store and wore hand me downs to fit the dress code. Meaning, they were never cruel to me but I wasn't invited for drinks after our shift was over. I was allowed to be there but didn't "fit in".

I was used to not fitting in. If you passed by me, you'd probably assume otherwise. Not because there was anything special about me, quite the opposite- I looked just like a regular girl. It was not being able to act regular that got me into trouble. Growing up I let many bully me into normalcy, thinking if I could figure out the rules they were setting that I would be able to appease them.

I never figured out the rules.

My phone buzzed, shaking me out of my inner ramblings.

Haha, hey yourself. Yeah, sure. My roommates are down. I'm Yoongi btw, hope the show is worth it.

I stared at the message for what felt like 5 minutes, my mouth falling open. Then I closed my phone, sitting completely still, frozen in disbelief. A laugh bubbled up and out of me before I opened up the message again. I left my phone open and stood up, shaking out my legs. A buzzing excitement starting to build in my bones.

Okay, I thought to myself, now I just need to figure out how to get there.

The money from my job went to my mom. In an effort to prevent me from partying and to help her not feel completely reliant on her boyfriend for money. I didn't have a car, and there was no way she was going to let me travel out of state to go stay with a guy I randomly messaged on the Internet.

I had a small amount in my savings meant for school. Logically, it would make more sense to spend it on what I wanted to do instead of wasting it on something I wasn't even committed to, right? I wasn't even sure what I was going to school for and had switched majors at least three times within the past two years. This was a convincing enough argument for me to make up my mind.

The show was a week away, and I figured the cheapest route would be by bus considering the short notice. I searched for the tickets, slightly gawking at the 13 hour ride length before exhaling and clicking the purchase button.

I decided only to tell my younger sister, who gave me a wary look and made me promise to check in with her. I decided not to tell my mom, to avoid any unnecessary fighting or being told "no".

I spent the following week in a daze, excitement building with each passing day. Each time I checked in with Yoongi to give him an update, a swelling in my chest made it difficult to breathe.

Was I really going to bus 13 hours to see a random dude DJ on a whim?

Yes, yes I was.

Was this absolutely insane and for the experience more than anything?

Yes, yes it was.

Life experiences felt like collectibles to me at this time. If it wound up being a bad experience, what a story I would have to tell to friends later on. If it was a good experience, what a memory I would have to cherish.

Looking back now, I don't know how to categorize the experience. There's a lump in the back of my throat that I choke on whenever I let it come back.

If I could go back in time to November 2012, if I could stop myself from going and ever meeting Yoongi-

I couldn't.

Some things in life can be avoided while others feel inevitable.

We would have crashed into each other no matter what ended up bringing us together.

[shovson]

some ppl in the motorsport zone have made a playlist for their ocs so i thought i'd jump in with mines too. tbh it's a wippy but also i kiiiiiinda don't really like long playlists so it's done to me. anyways. posting it here so i can talk about each song in detail

link to the playlist

brutal - olivia rodrigo

the playlist begins with tragedy as adren's own life takes a tragic turn after the death of his brother. with no more close relatives, adren's emotions are...unstable as he navigates the paddock alone.

faster than you - reaubeau, eke

adren has momentum in his car and he shows why he deserves a spot in the grid

gasoline - halsey

to be honest it was either gasoline or drive. but i think this one fits adren better. adren learns the car. something something something.

beck and call - july talk, tanya tagaq

adren and his teammate begin to move between each other but it feels like there's something wrong with the dynamic. and yet they find each other coming back for the other.

'cause im a man - tame impala

adren takes a hateful look at himself. he's sort of unsure about who he is. and thinks he sucks as he can't figure out what the hell anyone wants from him.

chamber of reflection - mac demarco

yeah we're getting into adren's sad boy era as he tries to figure out whether the emotions his teammate shows him privately are real. he lives with the shame of being unwanted in a public space, though he can't do anything about.

bad habit - steve lacy

adren wants to know how his teammate feels. he realizes that his teammate is nothing but a coward. at this point it's manipulative, with his teammate trying to make him stay. adren hates it. and yet he still yearns for him.

blue racecar - sassy 009

unstable relationships around adren as he can't seem to let go because he just wants someone to put in the same effort back!

cage - wyatt smith

despite everything, adren wants to help, knowing that this was one of his brother's strongest traits and he wants to have it too. he would sacrifice himself for his teammate over and over again, even if it means he destroys himself in the process.

trustful hands - the do

adren is surrounded by people who love him. and he knows that. adren lives in spontaneity. and trusts he'll always get back on his feet even after everything.

alive - pearl jam

after a crazy rookie year, adren makes it to his second year with a different outlook. he's still there. he remains resilient.

this feeling - my!lane

tbh this song is included in a lot of car playlists and i like how upbeat it is. it really suits adren a lot!

so many details - toro y moi

managing a relationship remains difficult for adren. there's so much that overwhelms him. the amount of shame his teammate still goes through internally and the mixed messages....adren isn't surprised he leaves. but they're still so intertwined.

babydoll - ari abdul

adren still wants his man sooooooo bad....

find a way - vallas, philsofie

adren begins to believe that he can do this. he's finding the balance. he's got everything he needs. he just needs to push himself closer to what he truly wants.

cure for me - aurora

the playlist ramps up again. adren knows who he is and he's unashamed. each win is nothing to hide. his own queer identity is not worth hiding. he takes pride in himself.

outsider (donald durand remix) - kavinsky, donald durand

for adren, it's still uncertain. he has to keep moving. and everything's building up. the song is instrumental and meant to depict how much adren wants to be champion. he knows it won't be easy and there's still so much going on. but he needs to just push that car to the finish line.

like a rockstar - chase altlantic

this is adren's celebration song. champagne sprays and confetti. the absolute riots, the mechanic screams, everything. he reflects on the journey.

still feel. - half alive

adren's got the energy to keep going!

take me where your heart is - q

still such a painful romantic, adren wants his partner to be just as emotionally vulnerable. and also adren loves. he's just full of unconditional love.

touch the stars - french 79, sarah rebecca

adren is optimistic. both for himself and others. he sees the goals in sight for more bright events. another championship? a stable relationship? healthy grieving? he's just needs to reach for it.

[bragganhyl]

37.“you wrote me a song?” 👀 (Any)

Thank you, Anon, here is some Edér x Watcher sappiness (tho it does touch upon Edér's PoE 1 quest so... not that sappy).

Word count: around 1480 words

Sometimes, things that are lost are found again at the most interesting times. Edér never put much stock in Wael and their teachings, but as he did some tidying up around his bunk aboard the Defiant, he came across a parchment he was given at a time, that felt like a different lifetime. Looking back, those days felt like a different realm altogether, one that he could look at through the lens of truth about the world and its gods, but without the one who revealed that truth to him. He smiled at the sheet in his hands. It wasn’t meant for those hands, or those eyes: he was told it was a song about the Watcher, meant for the Watcher. Back then, he tucked the message away, promising himself and the sender that he would deliver it to the her with haste.

But then that delivery never occurred. Then the Watcher died. Then the farmer left everything behind just to get her back. He didn’t really pay attention to which bag he grabbed on the way to the other side of the world.

Still, Gaura’s fondness for music was undeniable. And Edér loved second chances almost as much as he loved her. He made his way to the captain’s cabin, anticipation getting the better of him as he knocked on the door and entered before the Watcher could respond.

‘Got something for you,’ he strode towards Gaura who sat by her desk, cluttered with maps and notes in a language he couldn’t read.

‘Is it a requisition order?’ She teased as she took the parchment, her lips curling giddily and a little mischievously. As she unfolded the parchment, her smile slowly faded, her eyes grew wide in surprise, and for a brief moment, she almost looked moved. Then she turned to Edér, astonished. ‘You wrote me a song?’ She asked incredulously.

Edér gave her a pointed look. ‘Come on, you know I ain’t got the first clue about how music works,’ he shrugged as he rested his hands on his hips.

‘You could always learn,’ the Watcher lightly patted his thigh, ‘I almost thought you did behind my back. This looks a lot like your handwriting.’

‘Nah, Sid wrote that. Remember her?’

Gaura furrowed her brows as she tried to match a face to the name.

‘Minstrel girl, worked at Dracogen Inn,’ Edér added, chuckling at the Watcher’s focused pouting.

‘The redheaded one?’

‘It’s a small village, there ain’t another one.’

‘Oh,’ Gaura turned her attention to sheet in her hands again, ‘I do remember her, she seemed cute.’

Edér’s eyes narrowed, a smirk lightly tugged at his lips. ‘Cute, as in…’

‘As in cute,’ she didn’t look up. ‘I thought she was working on a song about the inn.’

‘Yeah, she still was when I left,’ he chuckled as he reminisced, ‘just… you know… shortly after we passed through Dyrford, a miracle happened. A miracle so great, it made even the biawacs stop.’ Edér’s laugh grew louder. ‘At least that’s how folks there saw it. Told them the truth plenty of times, but not sure how much of it stuck. Of course, Sid just had to write something in your honor. Didn’t look at it though, so you let me know if it’s any good.’

‘I like it,’ the Watcher answered and flashed a radiant smile at Edér. ‘It’s a song about that time we passed through town. It’s sweet. Simple, but catchy, although it omits some details.’

‘Makes sense,’ Edér leaned down, his eyes poring over the parchment. ‘Don’t think a verse about those Skaenites would’ve been a decent fit. And if she sang about us sneaking into Clia-’ he sighed in exasperation, ‘that place, that might have started another war.’

‘Well, yes, but that’s not all that happened during our visit.’

It was only then that Edér noticed the Watcher’s intense gaze lingering on him. For a moment, the waves beyond the windows almost sounded like a breeze sweeping over tall grass.

‘I didn’t tell her about it.’

‘I didn’t think you would.’

Another moment passed in silence. Edér felt something form in his chest, empty but warm, something that he half-expected to hurt still, but in that very moment, looking at Gaura, he could only smile at her. Like looking at an old scar that he got doing something silly, which still looked grievous at the time. The Watcher smiled back, and the emptiness dissipated in the lightness and warmth she evoked.

‘Besides, I don’t think you can write about all that nothing that happened,’ he could even joke about it.

‘Come now, it wasn’t nothing,’ Gaura lightly slapped his leg with the back of her hand. She pushed aside some of her notes until she found an empty piece of parchment, then she took some ink and a quill, and stood up. ‘Watch me,’ she said with a wink and made her way to her footlocker.

She sat once again, her legs sprawling along the length of her footlocker, her eyes fixed on the horizon, the quill in her hand lightly caressing her lips as she sunk deeper and deeper into thought. It almost looked sudden, when she turned to Edér again. ‘You know, it would be nice if you came closer. You are my inspiration, after all,’ she said as she pulled her knees closer to herself. The farmer obliged her, and once he was nicely seated, she stretched her legs again over his lap.

She wrote a line, then another. Her head lightly bobbed to a rhythm only she could hear. Occasionally, the Watcher would look to Edér, her imagination running wild behind that intense gaze. He knew she wasn’t thinking of anything that would get him blushing, and yet he found the heat in his cheeks rising under that gaze. Then she would look to the sheet in her lap and keep writing, and he would notice a fluidity in the motion of her hand that wasn’t there before. He couldn’t quite tell how long they have sat there. It could have been mere minutes. It could have been an hour. Time could have frozen altogether. But eventually Gaura looked up with a triumphant smile.

‘There, two additional verses,’ she said as she offered the parchment to him.

Edér, however, pushed her hand away, shaking his head. ‘If you’re gonna write a song about me, you better sing it too.’

‘Hm, a fair request.’

Gaura looked at the sheet written by Sid. She placed a finger on the first note mapped on the parchment, and hummed it, loud and clear. She counted to herself. One, two, three, and on the fourth count, the words began flowing from her lips.

Silver sun upon your palm, Thunderous silence roars like a psalm, The truth is hollow, my heart is full, The answer you seek ‘s within your soul.

Silver sun upon your palm, Your breath and your heartbeat ring like a psalm, My truth for you is my faith in you, Trust in yourself, as I trust you.

The last note filled the room. Edér didn’t even notice the Watcher gently scolding herself.

‘It could be better, but it’s fine for a first draft, wouldn’t you agree?’

Edér was merely looking ahead. He absent-mindedly caressed her leg with a thumb. How has he not noticed that the sea sounds so much like a breeze upon a grassy field before?

‘Edér…?’

‘It’s perfect,’ he mumbled. Noticing the silence growing more awkward moment by moment, he cleared his throat and spoke again. ‘It’s perfect,’ he gave her a weary smile.

His reaction wasn’t good enough for her, however. The Watcher moved on to straddle him, gently pushing him against the stilted window behind him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she left one insistent kiss on him after the other, on his forehead, on his cheeks, on his eyes, wherever she could. After the fourth breathlessly whispered apology, Edér stopped her.

‘Don’t be,’ he locked lips with her for emphasis, ‘it’s a good verse, got me real moved.’

That was all there was to it. He didn’t know how else to say it. For a moment he was on that grassy field, his hands muddy, bodies laying by his feet, looking at this girl he only knew for a few weeks as she worked hard to make a miracle happen. All because he asked her to. But she had no revelation for him, not at that time, but that emptiness didn’t come with hopelessness anymore. Because she did lead him to a revelation eventually. One that left him crushed by its weight. But she stood beside him both times until he picked himself up, until he could look to a godless world and see the beauty of kith instead.

‘Are you sure you're alright?’ Gaura was examining his features, her concern still clearly written on her face. Edér laughed.

‘There ain’t a lot of things I feel more sure about.’