#I think I probably have a strong personality

[abnormalcandylimbs]

1. What category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Polymorph alterhuman, otherkin, copinglinker, otherhearted, fictionkin.

2. What/who is/are your types?

Polymorph and harpy otherkin. Specifically, polymorph cladokin and harpy cladokin. (Also polymorph alterhuman.)

I identify as all types of harpies, from the ones that are just birds with women heads, to the gangly rotting hags, to the fluffy feathered feral bird women.

I also identify as all type of polymorphs and I identify as the overall state of being a polymorph.

And I’m Joel Dawson fictionkin from the 2020 movie Love and Monsters.

3. Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

I experience shifts. My most common are mental shifts and then phantom shifts.

Strangest cameo shifts: As a polymorphkin, I get cameo shifts all the time. I was at Giant one time with my dad. I was having a very intense (what I think was a) dragon cameo shift. I could feel fangs, snout, a tail, claws, and wings. I was making what was probably weird facial expressions as I was trying to get used to the feeling of the muzzle and fangs.

As I started stretching out the wings, this little girl and her mom walked by me and, I kid you not!, the girl’s face lit up with joy and wonder, pointed and looked up at me in the eyes, and said “A dragon! 😃”. The mom then yanked her away and said something like “Don’t point at people.” Lmao.

My dad was so weirded out and confused lol. 😂 But I was so happy. <3 I wish that I could have been a harpy shift that was noticed, but this was still an incredible experience that I’ll always remember.

And yes I did look behind me and no, there were no dragon items behind me.

4. How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Hmm. Well, I see myself as a harpy that just doesn’t have feathers nor wings. I try to incorporate aspects of harpies into everyday life.

Also on all levels but physical I am a polymorph. Literally I do shapeshift, just not physically. (If that at all makes sense lol😅?) I am constantly copying, reflected, and shifting (nonphysically) depending on what’s around me, to fit in my environment.

5. What do you think of the community?

Overall I love it. I love how welcoming it is. And I love how a week or so ago I (a harpy) drove a siren and then had dinner with some werewolves haha. I do wish there wasn’t so much petty drama whenever someone doesn’t believe in everything the other person believes in. What happened to this being highly theoretical and based on nonproven stuff?

If we want to cancel someone it should be because they are genuine danger to society or to the community. Not because they didn’t tag your identity in a post or because you don’t like their hobbies.

(Not saying this happened recently, just that when it happens it makes me roll my eyes.)

6. What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

My gear, shawls and warm loose sweaters, sun bathing, bitting individual seeds off granola bars, overeating 🥲, vocals, drone videos, bone collecting and cleaning, collecting shinies, jewelry, corvidcore and cryptidcore clothing, eating Greek food.

Things that make me feel overall nonhuman and/or animalistic. Floating in water, practicing mimicking the movements/body language of animals and people, mimicking animal noises, drawing.

7. Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

Yes. It’s not as bad as when I was younger, when seeing my reflection would cause me to fall to the ground crying. But it is still there.

8. What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

Take your time. There is no rush to find yourself.

Also use vague wording when journaling. Example: “I had a wolf snout shift=❌” , “I had a phantom shift of a long snout that was pointed and had sharp but strong teeth and fur=✅”

9. Do you have/want to have gears?

I have a pair of wings and tail feathers made of foam. Ear cuffs with feathers. A yarn tail. A mask of my copinglink type and a harpy mask. Some collars and a harness. Lots of jewelry. Shawls and cozy sweaters. Fangs. Bird feet.

10. Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

For being a polymorph, it’s a mess of reasons. 😅 For being a harpy, I don’t really know. For being Joel Dawson, it’s solely spiritual. TLDR Do to isolation from people I imprinted on many animals. I derived my behaviors and instincts from animals, instead of people.

Yeah it’s complicated. If you’d like to know more read this old Amino post. It’s a bit outdated when it talks about my mental health, medication, and sexuality, but overall it’s still very accurate! :)

http://aminoapps.com/p/yld4a20

11. Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!

@meowing-creature

@vulpenthefox

:3 Would love to read what you guys say! (Also I’m sorry if you’ve already completed this.😅)

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[hismercytomyjustice]

Ngl I really enjoyed Via’s arc in Sinsmas. She is just SO MUCH like her father that it both delights and hurts me lol.

Their relationship is an interesting take on struggling to try to break the cycle of abuse/neglect.

Stolas grew up with his father not even knowing his name or showing him a shred of affection. He was a means to an end, a tool. The only way he’s ever received any kind of acknowledgement from his father is by doing his duty. Mastering his powers, entering into an arranged marriage, and producing an heir.

You can just so clearly see how he is trying SO HARD to give Via a different life. He wants them to be a family. For her to never doubt her parents love her. To be the father he never had.

To the point he shoves his own wants and needs so far down that he is barely holding on.

Via going from accusing him of not loving her to realizing that he loves her so much that he forced himself to play the role of a good father and husband. To the point he destroyed himself for her…

And that realization just devastates her.

Stolas getting involved with Blitz was the culmination of decades of forcing himself to be the person everyone else expected him to be. He feels he can’t be loved, but he can be useful. And maybe if he’s useful enough, people will care about him.

The reason his connection with Blitz is so strong is because both of them feel that way. The difference is that Blitz was able to create his own found family (tho it took him ages to realize it lol) while Stolas has always been alone. They’re two sides of the same coin. And while Blitz has spent the past few years healing, Stolas has been descending further into darkness because he doesn’t have that same support.

Via has absorbed so many of his insecurities. Especially the fear of not being loved or wanted despite Stolas trying SO HARD to be the perfect father to her. But he’s not. He can never be because he forgot the old adage of “put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else.”

I think that definitely can come across as him being neglectful of her. But to me it speaks to his desperation to be such a good father to her that he tries to hold himself to IMPOSSIBLE standards.

He doesn’t fail Via because he doesn’t care. He fails her because he keeps setting up these unrealistic expectations for their relationship. He massively overextends himself and puts his own wants and desires on the back burner so often that his life is imploding around him out of his control.

He doesn’t miss the stars with her because he doesn’t care. He misses them because he’s struggling to put his life back together after finally taking some initiative for himself. He’s trying to deal with the fallout of wanting a divorce from Stella, but he’s waited so long and he’s so overwhelmed by it all that the date slips his mind. And the instant he realizes what’s happened, he drops everything and goes looking for her.

Via keeps watching him make these promises he struggles with or fails to keep and doesn’t realize until she finds all of the happy pills how much he’s overextended himself for her sake. And because she’s her father’s daughter, she immediately thinks she’s at fault. She thinks he would be happier if he hadn’t forced himself to play house all these years for her sake.

She’s not wrong. If he’d separated from Stella years before, they’d probably all be better off. But he didn’t because of his sense of duty. Stolas’s problem is that he never advocates for himself until he reaches his literal breaking point. By then, the damage is more of a tsunami than a ripple because now his meticulously crafted house of cards is falling down around him faster than he can pick up the pieces.

Via is right that he would have been happier, but not for the reasons she thinks. He did it because he loved her, not out of obligation for her. And also because he is deeply broken and flawed.

Via’s dealing with a lot of complicated emotions too. Her father was willing to sacrifice himself for his affair partner, which she initially believes means he’s picking Blitz over her. But really it’s just Stolas trying to save the only other person in his life who understands him and who maybe cares about him.

How could he live with himself if he let Blitz die?

And it’s not like Stolas has time to sit down and think of a rational plan. He rushes to the trial because Blitz is literally about to be decapitated. And then he saves him the only way he knows how. I think part of him was also convinced that, as much as he loves Via, she might actually be better off without him because he is a wreck. He’s convinced he’s ruined his life and the lives of everyone around him.

I think this is why he doesn’t fight Stella much for custody of Via. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he genuinely thinks Stella is a more stable parent than he is and that Via will be better off with her as a result. The man also lacks a backbone too tho because his self worth is -9000.

But then Stolas doesn’t get executed. And the consequences of his actions hit him like a ton of bricks once the adrenaline and panic wears off. He saved Blitz, but at what cost? And, based on his statement in Sinsmas, it sounds like he would’ve done it all over again if given the chance. Because he’s the one who let Blitz use his grimoire even though he knew it was wrong. Because Blitz was in danger of dying because of him. And because he has a very strong sense of morality and justice too.

Dying in Blitzo’s place was a spur of the moment decision and once the dust cleared, Stolas realized how everything he’s tried to do to keep his shit together has fallen apart at the seams and now everyone knows it.

All Via can see when she looks at him now is that he’s hit rock bottom because of her. Again, not true. But Stolas has tried so hard to give her this idyllic family life, thinking that was the best thing he could do for her. Not realizing that she could see the cracks forming. She just didn’t understand why there were cracks until now.

I don’t think Via actually hates him. I think she hates herself. Convinced she’s the reason he’s hit rock bottom. Why couldn’t she see how much he was suffering? Why would he suffer so much for her? So she’s taking herself out of the equation, just like he tried to with Blitz. If she’s not in his life anymore, maybe he’ll stop killing himself to try to make her happy. Maybe he’ll stop being so miserable.

I think a big part of their arc together has been her going from thinking of Stolas as this perfect and larger than life figure to seeing him start to crumble and now getting a peek behind the curtain and realizing how much of that wasn’t real. And it scares and upsets her that her dad isn’t the perfect person he’s tried to be for her. He’s broken and hurting and she doesn’t know what to do to help because he’s spent her whole life focusing on her.

Not to say that he’s done that well. He genuinely hasn’t. He’s overcorrected so hard that he’s fucked her up in a completely different way because he’s overextended himself. He pushed himself until the illusion of a perfect happy family cracked along with him. He’s also made it difficult for her to know how to help him because he’s sheltered her so much.

I think this sometimes makes Stolas come across as selfish. He seemingly “ruined” his marriage and his relationship with his daughter for Blitz. But really it was just the pendulum swinging wildly in the opposite direction. He was so starved for happiness and connection that now he’s trying to live two separate lives and it’s just not possible and he’s falling apart even faster.

Stolas was so desperate for affection and to be of use that he lets Blitz have his grimoire, under the impression Blitz is attracted to him because Blitz literally tried to seduce him to get it. He also does all of the dirty talk because he thinks Blitz likes it.

I think he initially sets the terms for the grimoire usage because he thinks it’s a price Blitz is more than willing to pay because he showed up trying to seduce him. I think he l also just really wants an excuse to see/spend time with Blitz too. It doesn’t even cross his mind that Blitz might want anything other than sex from him. He’s once again playing a role based on what he thinks is expected of him.

It’s not until Stolas discovers he’s starting to develop feelings for Blitz that he realizes their arrangement is wrong. And the moment he realizes it, he immediately tries to make amends. He hopes Blitz will admit he has feelings for him too, but is willing to step away if not. But he also cares about him so much, he makes sure to give him the Asmodean Crystal so he can freely make the choice.

Meanwhile he has no idea Blitz will just view this as another person trying to abandon him or look down on him. Because Blitz struggles with self worth too and believes the only way people will care about him is if he can be useful. Blitz has a deep seated fear of abandonment while Stolas fears no one could ever love him just for himself. He offers Blitz the crystal to let him know his feelings are genuine and to gauge Blitz’s too.

All of this is to say that I think Via and Stolas will reconcile, hopefully sooner rather than later. I think Via needs some time to process who her father actually is vs who she thought he was. And both of them need to be able to forgive themselves/grant themselves some grace so they can finally meet each other in the middle like Stolas has finally managed with Blitz. Stolas needs to accept Via is grown up now and he can’t shield her from the negatives of the world forever. Meanwhile Via needs to understand everything doesn’t have to be so black and white.

[katsu28]

connection

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: when a holiday gala that neither you nor max want to be at brings two people from vastly different worlds together, you find out that you might have more in common with the four time world champion than you think you do. (3.6k)

warnings: swearing, creepy men (not max don’t worry)

a/n: day three with max :) somewhere along the way this became less of a holiday fic and more of me projecting onto my characters but fuck it we ball! 

You don’t want to be here. 

Truthfully, toting around trays of champagne flutes and painfully tiny hors d'oeuvres to fancy rich people is the last place you want to be on a Saturday night, but your friend had roped you into working this event with her and you need the extra money a holiday event pays, so here you are. 

You’re not even sure what exactly it is either. All you know is that it’s some gala for folks in a totally different tax bracket than you, and you need to be on your best behavior—which, you’ll admit, isn’t your strong suit.

Your loved ones would say your headstrong, take-no-shit personality is one of your admirable qualities, but you know they only say that because they know the real you. 

These people don’t. They don’t need to. All they need from you is whatever you’ve got on the silver platter you’re holding. 

You glide through the crowd like a woman on a mission, turning up the charm to an eleven to get rid of these beef tartare crostinis as fast as you can. 

It’s part of the job description, but apparently some of these old men think you’re throwing yourself at them. The amount of ass patting bordering on groping, and sleazy comments about how you’re young enough to be their daughters you’ve had to endure in the last few hours is astonishing, and not in a good way. 

What you want to do is slam them upside the head with your tray, but you can’t. So you grin and bear it, redirecting their leering as best you can without causing a scene. What a way to start the festive season…not. 

Soon enough you’re out of food and you’re glad for it, because it grants you even just a little reprieve when you return to the kitchen. 

“I swear to god, I’m gonna punch one of those old fucks,” You fume, having just pushed through the adjoining door leading from the ballroom. 

Your friend offers an amused snort from where she’s waiting on a refill of stuffed figs. “Yeah, don’t do that, probably.” 

“They’re disgusting.” 

“They’re entitled.” 

“Okay, so they’re disgusting and entitled. God, the nerve!” 

“Y’know what, maybe you should take your break now? Cool off a little bit before you rip someone's throat out and get us both fired?” She tips her chin towards your hands, and when you look down, your fists are clenched. You’ve got them clenched so tight your nails are starting to dig crescent shaped divots in your palm. Any tighter and you’re sure to draw blood. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s—I’m gonna go,” You mutter. You can’t afford to be dismissed from the event and lose out on the payday. The best thing to do is find somewhere quiet, somewhere you can be alone and settle your temper. 

-------

Max doesn’t want to be here. 

Truthfully, milling around shaking hands and making small talk with these people is the last thing he wants to be doing on a Saturday night, but he has obligations to fulfill, appearances he needs to make to cast Red Bull in an admirable light in this season of giving, so here he is. 

His suit is expensive but itchy, the starched collar of his crisp button up pulled too tight around his neck. What he wants to do is rip it off and go home to his cats, but he can’t.

So he grins and bears it, summoning all his years of PR training to get through the next few hours as best he can. 

“Max, there you are!” His press officer materializes right next to him, clamping a hand down on his arm. He bristles a bit at the sudden touch, but it soon dissipates as he realizes it just means he has yet another hand to shake and conversation to make. “There’s some people you should meet with. They’re from one of our smaller sponsors, but important nonetheless. Think you should have a conversation, find some common ground.” 

“Do I have to?” The question is a moot point, but Max feels the need to ask anyway. Just in case the answer has changed since the last time he asked. When all they do is fix him to the spot with a deadpan look, he sighs. “Yeah, heard. Lead the way.” 

Small talk comes easily to him at this point, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t mind numbingly boring listening to the two middle aged men go on and on about something Max couldn’t care less about. 

To the untrained eye, it would appear that he’s listening intently, feeding into their words with every carefully timed nod of the head. A chuckle here, a smile there. All the while, he’s itching to get away. The itch grows and grows and grows until Max can’t take it anymore.

He has to go somewhere. Anywhere other than here. 

Before he can second guess his gut feeling, he excuses himself quickly and expertly, making his way carefully through the crowd and towards the nearest exit. Another glass of champagne couldn’t hurt, so he snags one off a tray on his way out, sipping on it leisurely as he searches for a place to be alone. 

That’s how he finds himself outside in this open area looking over the water, somewhere completely empty and quiet, save for the slight breeze sending tiny waves splashing against the rocks below. 

Max sheds his jacket, undoes the first few buttons of his pressed shirt so he doesn’t feel like he’s being choked anymore. His chin tips towards the sky, eyes scanning the sky above. 

The moon is out in full swing tonight, hanging big and bright in the sky, illuminating the beautiful architecture around him. Max has always liked the moon. It represents success and fulfillment and power, but also has an element of mystery to it. He thinks that, in a way, the moon is kind of like him. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays here, just knows that he doesn’t want to go back inside. Finds himself dreading it, actually. Knows that inevitably he’ll have to make his return, but he’ll delay it as long as he can before someone comes looking for him.  

The sound of a heavy door creaking open draws his attention a little while later, and it makes him sigh. Looks like his time hiding out here is over. He pushes off the pillar he’s leaning on, ready to spin some half assed excuse, but then he hears it.

“Fuck!” You bite out, letting the door slam behind you. The empty area provides an echo to your dramatics. 

Max peers wide eyed around at the sudden expletive, spotting you across the way. So…definitely not his press officer. You’re already pacing back and forth, hands on your hips as you shake your head. 

He should say something, right? Announce his presence? 

He’s about to, but then you start muttering to yourself, something about old rich men thinking they can do whatever they want just because they have money. Colored by a plethora of choice swear words, you look and sound entirely pissed off. 

Probably best to leave you alone for the time being. He doesn’t know you, but he knows anger, and yours has a fire that almost rivals his. You’re also very pretty, but he pushes that thought aside for the time being. 

For the first time tonight, Max’s interest is piqued. Even so, he feels like he’s encroaching on something too personal, too private for anyone else’s ears. 

Maybe he can sneak away undetected? 

He doesn’t remember the champagne glass he’d set down until his foot hits it, and then it’s too late. Thankfully it doesn’t shatter, but the clinking against the cobblestones as it rolls away gives him up automatically. Your head snaps towards his general vicinity, eyes going wide with fear. 

Max imagines it’s probably scary for you to think you’re alone and realize that you’re not, and he’s not a monster. He has no choice but to step out from the shadows, raising a hand in awkward greeting. “...Hi.” 

“Jesus. Shit. Uh, I didn’t know anyone was out here,” You breathe, already slipping back into that carefully practiced professionality. Embarrassment and a little bit of shame runs through you at the same time as realization blooms of who this man is. Everyone knows Max Verstappen is, and you just cussed out his colleagues big time. Oh, you’re so getting fired. “Sorry you had to see that, Mr. Verstappen.” 

Max waves a hand in the air with a shake of his head. “Please, we don’t have to do that. Call me Max.”

It feels a little wrong to do so, but you oblige. “Right. Well, sorry you had to witness that, Max.” 

“Oh, that was nothing. Plus, god knows I’ve done worse.” Somehow, that doesn’t make you feel any better. Max steps out a little further into the light, stooping down to grab the rolling glass before it gets too far. “Is everything alright? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Does it look like everything is alright?” You shoot back, throwing your hands up into the air. Then you remember just who the fuck you’re talking to and you freeze. “Sorry! I am so sorry, I—” You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. Max isn’t who you’re mad at. This has nothing to do with him at all. “You didn’t do anything, I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on you. I apologize. Again.” 

Max feels his lips quirk into a smile. He doesn’t remember the last time someone had spoken back at him like that. It’s actually quite refreshing. “No need. Probably very warranted too. I’ve been told I’m quite a good listener, if you need to let things out.” 

“I shouldn’t,” You sigh, pressing your lips together. Max raises a questioning brow. “It would be extremely unprofessional.” 

“You’ve just caught me out here hiding from doing my job. I think we’re past professionalism at this point,” He snorts. He takes a seat on one end of the concrete bench nearest, tipping his head towards the empty space next to him. “The floor is yours.” 

You explain your situation as best you can without getting too heated again, half expecting Max to grow defensive of his acquaintances—they always do. 

It’s a pleasant surprise when he does nothing of the sort. Instead he calls them all assholes, along with some other choice words you won’t dare repeat. He apologizes for them, says he’ll do his best to remedy the situation, but you’re sure all it’ll do is make things worse if he gets involved. 

“So…that’s why I’m out here. What’s your excuse?” You finish, letting your shoulders drop. It feels nice to get all of that off your chest for once, and to someone who actually gives a shit. 

Max sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. It probably makes it stick up at all odd angles, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I don’t really like these things. Talking to people, making small talk—between you and me, it’s the worst part of the job. Not my thing.” 

“You like to do your talking on the track,” You supply. 

Max lets out a sharp exhale, leaning back against his palms to regard you with careful amusement. “You watch?” 

“No, but I think I’d have to be living under a rock not to know a little bit about it. About you.” 

“And…what do you think you know about me?” He tilts his chin up almost in challenge, as if he’s daring you to analyze him. 

Challenge accepted. 

“I think you’re lonely.” 

A surprised laugh escapes from his mouth. He certainly wasn't expecting it, but quite enjoys your forwardness. “Well, that was unexpected. Why do you think that?” 

“You’re untouchable. A four time champion, I’ve heard.” 

“World champion,” Max corrects, but not obnoxiously. It seems like a habit to add that distinction, years and years of hard work and dedication and training for the recognition. 

“World champion, my bad.” You nod. “Congrats on that, by the way.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Like I said, untouchable. You’re the best of the best, and I’d assume even though it’s nice to be regarded as so, it’s hard for you to know when people actually want to know you, or if they just want something from you. Hence…why you’re out here.” 

“Whoa. Didn’t know this was going to turn into a therapy session.” 

“Am I wrong, though?” 

“No. You’re right on the nose, actually.” He shouldn’t be admitting this. He’s supposed to maintain the image that he has going for him, but something about you makes him feel like he can trust you with his true self. 

You’ve drifted closer together without realizing throughout your conversation, shoulders brushing, knees bumping. Max’s pinky moves to brush over yours. You let it happen. 

He’s got really pretty eyes, you notice, steel blue staring right back at you. Piercing the careful facade you have to put up when working these events. Some people are charming, and you’ve learned to keep yourself a closed book to keep yourself safe. But Max feels different. Max’s interest seems genuine. 

It only intrigues you even more. You don’t know him, but you want to. 

Max clears his throat suddenly. “I should go,” He says. 

You wait for him to back away, to put some space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. If anything, he looks like the last thing he wants to do is leave. 

Part of you wants him to stay, but you know he shouldn’t. The same is true for you. He needs to get back to his job, and you need to get back to yours. 

“Me too,” You reply, taking careful notice to keep your tone from sounding too dejected. “Thanks for listening to me rant. I feel a little better now.” 

“I’m glad I could help.” 

You force yourself to climb to your feet, putting that distance between Max and yourself up before you have the urge to do something rash. A flash of your mouth on his zips through your mind for a split second. 

No. You can't do that. 

“Bye, Max. It was nice meeting you.” 

“Yeah. Nice meeting you too.” 

Now is the time for you to leave—one foot in front of the other, away from him, back to reality. 

“Wait!” He calls before you can get far. You turn on your heel like you were expecting him to say something else, waiting for him to reach you. He catches your elbow, squeezing gently. “What are you doing after this is over?” 

“Honestly? I was going to go home and pass out on my couch.” Max’s eyebrows pinch in the middle. “But I could be persuaded otherwise. Why?” 

“Would you want to get a drink? With me.” 

“Not really helping the lonely allegations,” You tease, smiling warmly despite your ribbing. Max rolls his eyes goodnaturedly.  “Yeah, I’d love to grab a drink. But I don’t get off until late, so it might be a while.” 

“I’ll wait.” His answer is immediate. Firm. 

“Okay. Okay, cool,” You say, fighting a smile. “I’ll find you after everything is over.” 

“I’m counting on it.”

The night flies by faster now that you’ve got Max to look forward to by the end of it. By the time you’re freed from the shackles of customer service, you don’t feel as drained as you normally do. You’re strangely excited to get to know him some more. 

You find Max waiting for you just outside the coat check, pretty eyes searching the dwindling gala goers until he spots you approaching. He smiles, nods his head in greeting.

“Hi. Everything alright?” 

“It’ll be better the sooner we get out of here.” 

“Let’s go, then.” 

Instead of a bar, he brings you back to his place. It catches you by surprise when he asks, but he assures you it’s more for privacy purposes than anything else, strictly two new friends sharing a drink and some more conversation. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting for a man of his financial standing, but a massive penthouse overlooking Monte Carlo makes sense. You do your best to tame your reaction, but it really is impressive. 

His living room is probably the size of your whole apartment, and that’s just what you can see right now. A pristine white couch sits in the middle of the room on an even whiter carpet in front of a sleek, top of the line entertainment unit, and there’s some sort of sim racing setup with a fancy chair nestled in the far corner near a wall of floor to ceiling windows. Surrounding the rig are a handful of trophies and racing helmets, each of them polished to perfection. 

Over in the far corner is a huge evergreen tree, decorated with twinkling lights and silver baubles. It looks extremely professional, almost staged, and the more you look at it, the more you’re sure he hadn’t been the one to put it up.

“What do you like to drink? I’ll make you something.” Max’s voice pulls you out of your gawking at his home. Your eyes snap over to him hovering next to a bar cart stocked with liquor, sweeping a hand along the bottles. Twisting your lips to the side in contemplation, you tell him your drink of choice and he smiles. “Nice one. I’m more of a gin and tonic kind of guy, but hey, to each their own.” 

You find your way to one end of the giant sofa not long later, aforementioned gin and tonic in his hand, your drink nestled in yours. “I did you, now you do me.” 

Max nearly chokes on his drink, brows flying high at your bluntness. “Sorry, what?” 

You look unphased. “What do you think you know about me?” 

Oh. Of course that’s what you meant. 

He takes a few beats to ponder your question, eyes squinting in thought. Then he fixes you to the spot with a decisive look. 

“I think you have big dreams. Changing the world, making it a better place—but you haven’t quite figured out how to do it yet,” He says, tilting his head. Your chest tightens at his words, because they’re true. “You’re going in circles, not able to figure out that one thing that’ll break the cycle you’re stuck in. I think once you do figure it out, you’re going to do great things. Big things.” 

Like before, somehow the space between the two of you has dwindled into nearly nothing as he looks at you so intently with those piercing eyes of his. You’re a little surprised by how on the nose he is about you, but it also makes sense. Max seems very observant. Perhaps it comes from being on the lookout all the time. 

“If the racing doesn’t work out, you might want to consider psychology,” You manage to say. 

He chuckles, nose scrunching. “Sure, I’ll think about it. Though I think it’s going pretty well at the moment.” 

-------

“When can I see you again?” He asks a while later, head lolling to face you lazily.

His hand has somehow found its way spread over your knee, nimble fingers tap tap tapping mindlessly. The first few buttons of his shirt have been undone, hair mussed from how often he'd been dragging his fingers through it.

Your drinks have worn off ages ago, but you still feel warm and fuzzy. Though you suspect it’s more from the man you’re with rather than the residual alcohol talking. 

You’ve been getting to know each other as the night goes on, swapping stories about your lives until you feel like you haven’t just met him a few hours ago. His are by far much more entertaining than yours, but Max seems to enjoy the mundane of yours. 

Part of you is surprised by his question. In your mind, you were expecting this to just be a one time thing. An easy way to fill a boring night, never to be thought about again. But Max does want to see you again. You don’t let it phase you. Instead, you raise an amused brow. 

“Why? You planning on kicking me out anytime soon?” You joke. Max’s fingers twitch, and he shakes his head. 

“No, I just—I’d like to see you again, is that so wrong?” 

“Not at all. I’d like that too.” You smile at him. “Though it is getting late, so I should probably head out anyways.” 

Max doesn’t push for you to stay, just nods understandingly. “You’re sure you’re okay to make it home on your own? Let me order you an Uber,” He says, digging his phone out of his pocket. 

“Yes, Max, I’m fine. And I can get my own Uber, thank you very much.” 

“Please, let me. I asked you here, the least I can do is pay for your ride home.” He seems like a very insistent person, so you sigh goodnaturedly, waving a hand for him to go ahead. When he’s done and a car is on its way, he turns to you, propping his chin up in the palm of his hand. “I had a nice time tonight.”

You scoff lightly, raising a brow. “I recall you saying something about how company galas are the worst part of your job.” 

“I dunno, this one wasn’t that bad.” Max shrugs, a fond smile playing at his lips. “I met you, didn’t I?” 

“Best night of your life then, huh?” You tease, winking at him. 

“It’s definitely up there.” 

“Too bad it’s ending soon.” 

“Too bad,” He echoes. He tilts his head, rubs at the smooth fabric of the sofa cushion just so he has something to do with his hand. “Looks like we’ll have to see each other again soon.” 

You have all the time in the world to unravel the mystery that is Max Verstappen, if he’ll let you. And judging by the way his hand inches towards yours until your fingers intertwine while you’re waiting for your Uber to come, he will.

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[cheyisagirlkisser]

nsfw. ellie fingers you on patrol to help with your cramps. 1.4k words.

Never in your three years of residency in Jackson would you ever predict this–Ellie’s fingers deep inside of you, stroking the soft, sweet spot swollen by your own arousal. You would never have been able to predict actually crying out for her touch, hips bucking up to meet her palm like it was nothing. It was truly everything, because this was never supposed to happen.

You and Ellie had a strong distaste for each other from the start.

You liked to go to parties and drink, be reckless during patrols, and (at least attempt to) sleep with anyone who you thought was even slightly fuckable. Ellie was a wallflower, so maybe her distaste for you was plain jealousy. For you, your dislike for Ellie was much more than just something solvable with a little chat.You really resented her, and maybe it was because she actually made you feel things.

It was just another patrol like the rest, Ellie being quiet around you, and you refusing to make your usual conversation. Ellie was the only person you didn’t chat up a storm with when it came to these long patrol shifts, this one even lasting two days and requiring a camp set-up. If the two of you had really thought it through, you would’ve been more careful. Two people who have that obvious and yet annoyingly oblivious tension? It should’ve been predictable.

It started with the growing of blood in your underwear. The perfect time to be on your period, huh? You only let out a little huff to which Ellie ignored, setting off into the forest to put on a pad. When you returned, it was like fate that hit you, much like a lightning strike. Literally a strike of pain in your lower stomach signifying cramps to come, and on the one patrol you before to bring a bottle of Ibuprofen on.

You laid in your sleeping bag in pain, not wanting to even complain to Ellie, as much as you were the whining type. It’d be real nice to have someone to listen to you express how badly this cycle was, how your body was doing you dirty. You weren’t expecting Ellie to speak to you first.

“You okay over there?” not the usual irritated tone she liked to use with you, but not the most empathetic. Just slightly softer, but that was a mercy due to the strain in your relationship.

“Cramps.”

“Just take an ibuprofen and lay on your side.”

“Gee, thanks. I would’ve never thought to do that,” you bit, making Ellie glare. “I don’t have anything on me. I forgot I was close to my period.”

“Damn,” a not so sympathetic, and possibly indifferent curse from her.

“Yeah, damn is right. I feel like I’m being stabbed in my uterus repeatedly.” 

Silence went on for a few more minutes, but it was visually obvious that you were in a lot of pain. Despite her dislike for you, she didn’t like seeing you suffer. There was a small flutter of empathy deep inside her that made her suggest something she probably shouldn’t have.

“Physical stuff can help cramps, you know.” Quiet, and yet the implication was clear.

“You mean like..sex?”

“Don’t think of it as actual sex, obviously. Just me helping you.”

“If we do this, we aren’t having sex. I’m not moaning for you or telling you how much I want you, so don’t expect that shit. You’re simply giving me an orgasm, and then it’s done.”

“Agreed. No kissing, and as soon as you..finish, we stop.”

And it started just like that, as sexual act of non-sex.

Ellie didn’t warm you up with neck kisses or sloppy love bites like your usual partners did, and partially, you were glad. This was just supposed to be an orgasm, and you didn’t need to like each other to appreciate a good orgasm, right? A simple pain reliever. Anytime your brain would bleed with thoughts of Ellie doing those things for you, however, you’d block them out as soon as they entered into your mind. The imagery was more difficult to get out of your head, though. Just simply picturing her plush lips trailing over your neck, breath ghosting over…

You snapped out of it, and just focused on trying to cum so that this would end, and you and Ellie could go back to hating each other.

One finger slipped inside of you, and you bit back a gasp. You were wet enough to take it without much at all, and you hoped Ellie just assumed that was just because of your period and not actually because you were turned on.

Ellie started out slow, just rubbing your g-spot with her finger, providing some direct stimulation. It made you realize how different the act of sex itself was from sex with all of the other stuff. The teasing, how your typical couple would build up the moment to make it the best possible experience. That wasn’t what this was, though. So, why were you biting your lip to stifle moans when Ellie slipped in another finger into your increasingly wet hole, and even padded over your clit with her thumb?

Your head was spinning, and you were starting to lose your focus on just having that orgasm, the aid to your cramping. You were already too distracted to think about the pain, too focused on trying your hardest to pretend like Ellie’s calloused fingers curling into your pussy wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve felt in a while. 

Ellie didn’t complain when you instinctively bucked your hips up into her touch, and she had to try really hard not to lean down and kiss you when the occasional moan slipped past your lips. She couldn’t blame you, it was a natural reaction.

So, why was it that you were now begging for more when she curled right up into your sweet, tender spot?

“Ellie,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering open to meet hers. The scrunch of her nose that was usually present when you were around faded away, and her eyes were lidded, her lips parted slightly. A delicious, rosy tint set across her freckled face.

“Is it helping?”

“Please. Please, fuck me..just like that, I need it,” you begged, making her stomach do summersaults. It couldn’t be helped, though. Ellie took note that you shed off a little bit of your dignity when she slid her fingers slightly out and shoved them back into your hole, just to slam into your g-spot. She liked the way you sounded, the way your usual walls built around her crumbled when she fucked you good. Even though she didn’t (or at least tried not to) care to observe you enough, she noticed that you were different when at parties dancing with random people, more inauthentic. Something was ironically beautiful about the rawness to your voice that hit hard when she did something particularly mind-blowing to your pussy.

A mix of blood and your juices were dripping down her knuckles, and she really wanted to taste you. It would probably be something she would regret later, but Ellie decided to sate herself with a soft kiss to your lips instead. She felt warm and tasted like the rations from earlier, but you kissed her back fervently. The needy sounds coming from your throat were swallowed by her own mouth.

The orgasm that hit you was mind-blowing enough to aid with the cramps, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. Instead, it was the way Ellie’s tongue coaxed your lips apart, and the scent of her hair against your nose when she buried her face into your neck to taste your pulse. You felt every tremor run through you like lightning, and it was unlike anything anyone else could give you. It wasn’t forced, and the passion there was real. You actually felt something with her. 

As you came down however, the moment dissolved into awkward silence and the careful removal of Ellie’s fingers from you. You swallowed, holding back your words. You wished to forget it all now, not because you wanted to deny it ever happened, but you were scared of what it meant if you got attached to someone in Jackson.

Just like that, it was over, and you and Ellie didn’t go quite back into disliking each other dynamic but rather an awkward limbo. You left that patrol and spent the next few weeks sleeping with people, pulling all-nighters trying to make yourself feel what you did on that patrol, but you never could find the same peak in every single category of feelings that Ellie gave you.

[bunni-v1]

do you think that lighter would have like any embarrassing fetishes like an armpit fetish or like a belly bulge kink or sm? just needed to share that thought rq

Mdni

Idk what you classify as embarrassing, but I know he’s got plenty of fetishes. I’ll list some of the ones I personally think he’d find humiliating.

Firstly, yes he has a belly bulge kink, duh. He’s so big it pretty much comes with the territory. There’s just something about being able to see himself through your skin as his dick presses up and pokes out through your belly. It’s so hot. You’re so small compared to him, but you take him so well. He also likes it when you’re so stuffed full of his cum that your lower abdomen is literally extended from it. He can press down against it and you’ll gush — that’s what heaven looks like for Lighter.

He’s probably got some kind of breeding kink. It’s less about having a baby or getting you pregnant (if you can even get pregnant to start), and more about the trust that comes with it. It’s weirdly heartwarming to him that you trust him enough to let him fuck you raw and cum inside. Also feeds into the previous kink as well.

He’s big into cock and ball torture but you’ll never get it out of him. You’ll have to find out on accident somehow, and once you do it’s pretty much over for him. Cock cages are his personal favorite, being held back from cumming by having his dick physically restricted is thrilling to him. He’s also lowkey into sounding, though that one is more touch and go depending on the day.

I didn’t know this fetish had a name but CFNM (clothed female naked male). He likes it when you’re fully clothed and when he’s bottoming, essentially. It’s rare you’re in a position of power over him, but fuck does it get him going when you’ve got him naked and tied up and whimpering for you while all the good stuff is hidden from him. Power play is bottom Lighters bread and butter.

He’s into seeing you in leather, any kind of leather. Preferably something of his but it doesn’t have to be. There’s something about you in the rough rugged fabric that really turns some gears in the hopeless head of his. He likes the sensation of it under his hands, and it’s especially nice when he’s fucking into you. Just an added stimulation that looks super fucking good on your already perfect body.

Last one is that he really likes edging on himself. He’s too sweet to edge you (more like he’s too eager) when he tops, but if you edge him it’s a whole different story. It’s painful and awful but god the satisfied smirk on your face makes it so worth it. Especially when you finally let him come, it feels so much better when he’s overstimulated and crying like a baby. Just be careful not to take it too far, he might get impatient and turn it around on you. He’s strong enough to break just about anything you tie him up in.

Essentially… Lighters embarrassed of being a bottom 💀 It really harshes his whole vibe he’s got going. Like imagine how much respect he’d lose from people if they found out he cries when you don’t let him come. He can’t have that getting out 😭

[noahthesatanist]

Forming a coven

I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while, and I think it’s finally time to put it out there: I want to start a theistic Satanic coven. A real one, not some edgy, fake, "let's just sit around and bash Christianity" type of group (ugh, we've all seen those). This would be a space for serious practitioners and devoted theists who truly believe in Satan, Lucifer, and the infernal divine. A place to build a community with like-minded people who want something deeper, more meaningful—something sacred. What would it be about?

First, it would be strictly theistic—no edgy atheists just using Satan as a metaphor or symbol to "own the Christians." We’re talking about devotion to Lucifer, to the Goetic demons, and to Hell as the glorious kingdom they’ve built. We’d honor the rebellion, the defiance, and the sacrifices that were made to create a realm of freedom, power, and beauty. If you see Hell as more than just a concept—if you feel it, believe in it, and strive to connect with its essence—then this is for you. At first, it would probably be virtual. Discord, Zoom, whatever works best for everyone. That way, we can gather no matter where we’re from. Maybe someday, it could evolve into in-person gatherings for those who can manage it, but for now, let’s use the tools we have.

What would we do?

Rituals: Monthly group rituals, where we invoke Lucifer and the infernal divine together. We’d craft rituals that are powerful and meaningful, combining traditional elements of demonolatry with personal, modern practices.

Study & Discussion: A space to learn and share knowledge about demonology, the occult, and theistic practices. Maybe even studying ancient texts like grimoires or discussing ways to refine our own spiritual paths.

Devotional Work: Creating offerings, altars, and personal rituals to deepen our connection with Lucifer and the demons. Sharing ideas and inspiring each other to grow in our devotion.

Hell as Inspiration: We could also focus on what Hell means to us—not just as a place but as a symbol of rebellion, freedom, and the ultimate “fuck you” to Yahweh’s crumbling world. I want this coven to feel like a reflection of that: strong, defiant, and beautiful.

Community Building: This isn’t just about rituals and knowledge—it’s about finding people who understand and support each other. Too often, theistic Satanists and Luciferians feel isolated, like no one truly gets them. This coven would be a safe haven for us to connect, vent, and celebrate together.

Would anyone join?

I know starting something like this is a big deal, and it’s going to take work, but I’m so passionate about this that I’m willing to put in the effort. The question is: would anyone else want to be a part of it? If this resonates with you, if you feel that pull toward the infernal and want to build something amazing with others, let me know. from hell with love, Noah hail lucifer!

[mrsshabana]

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 ✧ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ꔫ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, fluff

ꔫ Note Happy Holidays everyone! I haven't had much time to write lately since I'm moving. But I wanted to give you guys a little something for the holidays! ଘ( ･ω･)_/ﾟ･:*:･｡☆

Gyutaro always hated Christmas.

He's a demon now so it's not like the holiday is meant for him, but even as a human he hated it. The holiday just served as a reminder of everything he never had. Family, gifts, food, love. It just wasn't fair.

After he turned into a demon he took it upon himself to celebrate Christmas in his own special way. Scouting out the rich neighborhoods to find his own Christmas feast.

It was sadistic, but that's Gyutaro's idea of fun. He enjoyed torturing those who were more fortunate than himself, of course. But in a way, he also felt like he was enacting revenge for those who weren't strong enough to do it themselves. All of the orphans and poor children who spent Christmas night out on the cold streets of the entertainment district.

It became a Christmas tradition for Gyutaro. But things changed when he met you.

He first noticed you when he heard your voice through his sister's ears. It sounded heavenly, instantly waking him from his slumber. And by the elegant kimono you wore, he guessed you were just another rich woman. Destined to spend Christmas in some mansion surrounded by loads of gifts. It infuriated him.

So, that year you became his target.

And on Christmas Eve he followed you home, only to see something that surprised him. You weren't rich, no, far from it. You lived in a small home on the outskirts of town. Your home was not decorated in the slightest and you didn't even have a Christmas tree.

"This can't be right... a girl as pretty as her can't spend Christmas alone," he grumbles to himself. He decided to stay and watch you for a while, figuring that you must have a rich boyfriend or something like that.

But no. No one came and you opened no gifts. The pretty girl that Gyutaro was previously jealous of, spent the entire night by herself.

You were the first person to surprise Gyutaro in a very long time. The first person with a beautiful face who didn't have a life to match it. Behind closed doors, you lived a life full of sadness and loneliness. Though at work and in front of others you always wore a smile, never wanting anyone to worry about you.

But you couldn't hide the truth from Gyutaro. He continued to watch you from the shadows even after Christmas had long passed. Stalking you from rooftops, listening to your voice through his sister's ears, watching you up close from her eyes. He actually smiles when you're around.

And when Christmas comes once again he can't help but feel like it's a shame that you don't know about him. That you don't know that there's someone out there who loves you. Someone you've never even met.

A part of him wants to finally reveal himself and confess his feelings. But what if you reject him? What if you're disgusted by his ugliness like everyone else is? He wouldn't be able to go on if something like that happened. Maybe he'd snap and just kill you. He knows himself, and he knows that's something he'd probably do. So instead he decides not to reveal himself for now. However, he still wants to do something for you. Something to let you know that you aren't as alone as you may think.

You got an extra shift at work, hoping to work as much as possible so you could forget what time of year it was. But you had to go home eventually.

You take the alleyways home, wanting to avoid the main streets so you don't have to see the Christmas lights or hear the Christmas carols. You just want December to end already so things can be back to normal. So you don't have to remember the painful memories that this holiday brings.

As you approach your home you immediately notice that something's off. There is a faint glow in your window. But that can't be right. You know you couldn't afford any lights or decorations. And even if you could, you wouldn't have spent any money on them.

Hesitantly, you open the door. And nothing looks out of place or stolen. But there is a small tree in your living room.

It looks like it was torn out of the ground because the roots are still attached and there is frost on its leaves. It's propped half-hazardly against the wall. Sloppily decorated with red ribbons and random trinkets.

On the floor is a single candle, a note, and a crudely-wrapped box.

Did someone seriously break into your home to give you a tree and a Christmas present? This has to be some kind of joke right?

You're skeptical, but you decide to open the note anyways and give it a read.

"Dear Y/N,

You don't know me but I know you. I think you are very pretty. I am always here, even if you don't know it. You aren't as lonely as you think. Merry Christmas.

-Love G"

The handwriting is barely legible and what you can read sounds slightly creepy, like you might have some kind of stalker. But you can tell that whoever did this genuinely cares for you. Creepy or not. And your heart warms up at the thought that someone went out of their way to do this for you.

With teary eyes, you open the gift. Inside the small box is a beautiful bracelet with brilliant emeralds. You've never received such a thoughtful gift.

You hold the bracelet close, clutching it to your chest as tears stream down your cheeks. Overcome with gratitude and appreciation for this person that you don't even know. Yet they were so kind to do this for you anyway. Not even wanting to reveal themselves to receive praise and love, no. They just wanted you to be happy. They couldn't care less if you knew who it was really from. Seeing that smile on your face is more than enough for them.

"Thank you...," you mumble.

You don't receive a response but you can feel that someone is watching from the shadows, with a big toothy grin on his face.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Glory Hallelujah

Written for day 25 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles and the 12 Days of Christmas bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Christmas & Glory Hole

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody Lives; Rockstar Eddie; Sex Clubs; Glory Holes; Blowjobs; Reunions

Notes: I did a poll to determine which prompt from the bingo card I should combine with the Christmas prompt of the holiday drabbles. Merry Dick-mas, you filthy heathens, I love all of you! ❤️

Eddie isn’t sure what the correct word for someone like him is. He’s been pondering it over four beers now, watching the bored-looking girl at the center of the room spin around her pole, but without any success. 

Pathetic springs to mind, but that isn't strong enough. There must be a stronger word than pathetic for someone spending Christmas at a goddamn sex club. But he was lonely, and he had nowhere to go, so it seemed like a good idea. 

It wasn’t. The place is glaringly empty, even Indy’s kink scene having better places to be on this most magical of nights.

He should’ve gone to Kentucky with Wayne. 

Except this is the old guy’s first time meeting his girlfriend’s family, and Eddie can just imagine how this would’ve played out if he’d tagged along.

Hi, I’m Eddie, Wayne’s nephew. Yeah, I might look familiar. Yeah, I was on the cover of Rolling Stone last month. Thanks, I’m happy your grandkids like my music. Yeah, no, I didn’t commit those satanic murders, that was- Listen, can we talk about my uncle? 

So, instead, here he is. 

Fuck, he hasn’t felt this miserable and mad at himself since that one time he told Steve Harrington to get back with his girl while inconspicuously ogling the guy’s sweaty chest hair under his own battle vest. 

Eddie sighs, getting up from his chair. He might as well head home while he still has some self-respect left.

He's almost at the exit when something catches his eye. There's a row of stalls in the wall, each with its own lockable door. 

The light over one is on. 

There's no fucking way, he thinks, even as his feet carry him right over and into the adjacent cabin. Someone probably forgot to kill the light. There's no fucking way anyone is in there. That would be at least as pathetic as a fucking rock star going to a fucking sex club on fucking Christmas day because he's a depressed moron. 

Still, he goes in, locks the door and pulls down his pants. The hole in the wall stares back at him like it's trying to mock him. Eddie tells himself to stop being silly. 

Worst case scenario is he stands here with his limp dick poking through a hole in the wall like an idiot. Nobody will know, because nobody’s there. Best case scenario is he gets to blow off some steam. 

Nothing happens. 

Eddie sighs and is just about to pull out when suddenly, there's movement. His heart leaps into his throat. He hears it all through the thin wall. A sharp intake of breath, like whoever is on the other side is just as surprised as him. They probably are. They've probably been in there a while. Then, the thud of knees hitting the floor. Eddie has just enough time to think that the mystery person must be really eager for this before he feels soft, warm lips wrapping around his tip. 

Whoever the person in the other stall is, they sure know what they’re doing. They start out gently, slowly sliding Eddie’s swelling cock in and out of that deliciously warm mouth, tongue teasing the length of him. Once he's fully hard, the tongue is joined by a hand, alternating soft licks with firm strokes, and Eddie feels something urgent and hot build at the base of his spine. He moans, fingers grasping the top of the stall for leverage as his hips buck, trying to get closer to that mouth even with the wall between them. 

They keep this up for several minutes. Eddie tries to keep his voice down, but it seems like each of his groans and whimpers spurs the other person on. And then, they scrape their teeth over his tip, and a startled curse escapes his lips, and they swallow him all the way down, as far as the wall allows. 

Eddie comes with a hoarse shout, spilling hot and wet into that mouth. The other person doesn’t pull away. Eddie feels their throat constricting around him as they swallow.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie groans, forehead sagging against the wall. His arms feel like jelly from supporting his weight. “Shit. Jesus. Shitshitshit.” 

And that is when the other person pulls off. 

“Eddie, if it’s you, please come out?” 

“Wait a sec,” says a voice. A voice garbled and wrecked from sucking his cock and swallowing his come. A voice that Eddie hasn’t heard in ten years.

Eddie’s heart stops. On the other side of the wall, a door opens.

“Eddie?” Right outside his own door. “Shit, is that really you?”

This isn’t real. It’s some bizarre, orgasm-induced pipe dream brought about by too much beer and seasonal depression. There’s no way the person outside is who Eddie thinks he is. 

He does. At least he remembers to pull up his pants first.

The door swings open, and there he is. Steve Harrington, ten years older but no less gorgeous, clad in skintight denim and a silky purple shirt, lips turned up into a delighted smile. They’re still swollen and shiny. 

“I knew it!” he cheers, pulling Eddie into a hug. “Nobody else babbles curses like that.”

Eddie grunts. Steve pulls back, holding him at arm’s length. 

“Looking good,” he smiles. “Even better than on that Rolling Stone cover. How have you been, man? Dustin said you talk sometimes, but you never-” 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Eddie blurts. His knees are wobbly and his head is spinning. “You aren’t- … You just sucked my- … You’re straight!” 

Steve laughs, and it’s every bit as breathtaking as Eddie remembers. 

“Yeah, no, I figured that out a while ago. Which you would know, if you’d just kept in touch.” He winks right into Eddie’s gobsmacked face, then takes him by the shoulder and steers him towards the bar. “How about you buy me a drink? We can celebrate this little Christmas miracle, and I’ll bring you up to speed.” 

More holiday drabbles

More Steddie Bingo

[corseque]

Hi! I've been following you for ages for your great Solas takes and immaculate taste in sad men. I've been thinking about this because I have a Dragon Age Inquisitor who is an abomination, what do you think Solas would think about abominations/do you recall him ever talking about them? Both Anders/Justice and the more demonic unwilling variety.

Personally I would assume he'd be initially horrified because that might seem like a violation of consent for both parties, but after learning more about them he might grow more curious/respect actual unions a mage might have as an abomination. I am basically just workshopping an OC and hitting a wall and you're the local Solas sage, so... XO

Oh, that's so nice..

Solas is more chill with willing abominations than you might think. And he seems to know all about it already. In Jaws of Hakkon, in the quest called “In Exile” you meet a young mage named Sigrid Gulsdotten who had been willingly possessed by a friendly spirit in order to teach her magic. Which is what the Avvar do culturally to make mages safer.

Sigrid was getting old enough that it was time for her and the spirit to part ways, but she didn’t want to give it up because she didn’t want to lose the spirit as a friend/confidant. Solas has a surprising amount to say in Jaws of Hakkon in general about how the Avvar interact with and relate to spirits, and he talks a lot in this quest too. He is very gentle with her. Let me look up exactly what he says. When you find clues about the mage's failed ritual to part with her spirit, Solas says (a mage in your party always speaks here):

"Residual magic. Someone was casting a spell, and was interrupted. Or stopped."

"If a mage was performing a ritual to part with a spirit, she may have needed to replenish her strength."

Then later, when you talk to her, the conversation goes like this:

Sigrid: "I could not do it! I have no close companions in the hold! No kin! I cannot lose my only friend!"

Inquisitor: "You're friends with this… spirit?"

Sigrid: "It has taught me with patience and kindness since I was a child, frightened of the fire I could suddenly call down."

Solas: "A great comfort. But you are no longer a child."

Sigrid: "Some mages need the help of a god all their lives."

Solas: "Very well. Perhaps, however, ask yourself if it is help you need, or companionship."

Sigrid: "I do not wish to lose the one who loves me."

Here is a playthrough that has this dialogue:

At the end of the quest, if you recruit Sigrid for the Inquisition, Varric, Sera, Vivienne, Iron Bull and Cassandra have strong negative feelings about it, while Cole approves. Solas doesn't seem to approve or disapprove, as far as I can tell. He doesn't say anything, at least. When talking to the Shaman about this Avvar practice, you get this conversation:

Inquisitor: "You let spirits possess your mages on purpose?"

Shaman: "What better teacher than one woven from magic? The spirits in the hold have helped us in this way for hundreds of years. Once a mage masters their powers, their teacher departs, duty ended. Unless the mage is weak."

Inquisitor: "What happens to these "weak" mages?"

Shaman: "Their teachers stay with them and the other gods watch them both, so neither soul turns sick. If one does sicken, or the mage stands in risk of harming the hold… One day, they do not wake in their bed. It is very sad. It is what must be done."

Solas: "It is kinder than what happens in many mage Circles."

So Solas seems to understand the reality that abominations become corrupted more easily, and that it's probably best for abominations to separate willingly.

Solas offers to separate Lucanis and Spite, and says their forceful combination was "a crime against [them] both" so I can only assume that it's the willingness factor that he gets upset by, along with him always being upset at the thought of spirits becoming corrupted.

[ask-the-pioneer]

I have a question for marbles, If they were to meet all of the slugcats from downpour and vanilla (minus Artificer & Inv), what would their interactions be, and who would they like most and least (maybe like a teir list?).

// I will answer this in text, I hope that's okay!

Gourmand, Survivor, and Monk - Marbles will meet all three of them in Act 2, when a colony of slugcats is temporarily staying over around NSH's can. They can't progress further into the area of the big slugcat trees (known in-game as Outer Expanse) as the way is blocked by the heightened presence of vultures. Gourm is the colony leader who bravely ventured out to the 5P can to scout the area and find a different, suitable spot for the colony to spend the dryer season. On his way back he found Surv and Monk (who are also from his colony), and brought them back safely to their parents.

Gourm - fella is a gentle giant with a big heart and a passion for cooking, he and Marbs would get along well! In my story he teaches her new delicious recipes as a thanks for housing the colony members.

Surv - they are about 20 in human years by the time Marbles meets them, so only slightly younger than our protagonist. Being peers, I think they also would get along well. Surv would tell her all about their adventures in the 5P area.

Monk - Surv's younger sibling in my AU, they are about 12-13 at the time of meeting. Monk miraculously survived their journey to save their older sibling despite being very very young themself, I headcanon them to be maybe 8 or so when their in-game campaign begins. They would be shy, but Marbles had a lot of adoptive younger siblings so she would know how to win Monk over quickly.

Hunter is Marbles' adoptive parent, he found her when she was about 7-8 years old, and raised her as his own (along with over a dozen other slugpups that he found orphaned during his expeditions). They have a very strong familial bond.

Arti - Marbles' long-lost mom. They meet again in Metropolis after almost 15 years, but it's not a happy reunion. After Marbs makes her leave the scav colony, the two of them move on to live with other scugs around NSH's can. Arti is very socially maladjusted and avoids contact with anything that is not her only surviving child - the only person in the entire world she has love for.

Saint - they will make a brief appearance during the story (visiting Hunter after he's brought back to the NSH's can and given rot treatment), but they probably won't meet Marbles in person. If they did, I see both Marbs and Saint having lengthy philosophical conversations about the nature of life, karma, ascension, and so on.

Spearmaster - won't be appearing in my AU in-person as I assume them to be very old and retired at the time of my story taking place, or even deceased... perhaps already reincarnated? Or ascended? I haven't decided yet. However, they will show up in Hunter's flashbacks. If Marbles and SM were to meet, she would probably be scared of them, lol. I imagine Spears to look very tall and freaky for a slugcat, but also very collected and duty-driven like Hunter.

Rivulet - Riv won't show up in my AU, their campaign takes place far ahead in the future and it wouldn't make sense to include them (sorry!). I headcanon Riv as very energetic, and so if Marbles met them she'd find the aquatic scug rather... overwhelming.

[bumpkling]

consider me a house fandom Australian Cultural Liason: here’s some chase family christmas headcanons!

rowan and his mum definitely drag chase and retcon sister along to midnight mass on christmas day. it, as the name suggests, starts at midnight (imagine sitting awake in lousy wooden chairs on CHRISTMAS EVE/DAY as like. an eight year old. catholicism is stupid) and includes receiving communion (the little wafer, and the wine if you’re old enough). there’s a roman catholic communion chant specific to midnight mass for all you latin enjoyers (me): in splendoribus sanctorum, ex utero, ante luciferum, genui te (in the brightness of the saints, from the womb, before the day star, i begot you)

it’s hot and dry this time of year in australia, so spending the whole of christmas day or boxing day at the beach or the pool is common. i imagine chase and his sister competing in made-up competitions — “i bet i can make the water splash taller with a cannonball!” — with their mum as a judge

“classic catches” is a common one: basically, one person throws the cricket ball out across the pool, and the other takes the most spectacular jump/dive they can to try and catch it before landing in the water (there’s a bluey episode about it). we see chase catch pens/case files/miscellaneous objects a few times throughout the show, so i think he’s honed the skill through games like this lol

bundaberg ginger beer is a classic aussie drink for the summer. it’s not alcoholic, and kind of a stronger ginger ale, made in queensland. virtually synonymous with summer. chase feels like an adult holding the heavy glass bottle, sipping it by the pool, trying not to screw up his face at the strong taste

his family have a christmas day lunch with. yes: prawns on the barbecue. but if i catch any of you calling them shrimp i will have harsh words. you’ve been warned

i have no idea whether other places do this, but christmas meals in australia usually feature ‘christmas crackers�� or ‘bonbons’ (there is a bluey episode about these too). they’re paper and kind of shaped like wrapped tootsie rolls, with trinkets, paper crowns, and little joke cards inside the middle. they’re called crackers because you open them by pulling on either side with someone else, tug-of-war style, and when one side breaks, a little fire cracker lights and makes a small explosion with a crack sound. i think chase looooooves the stupid little crowns and wore them all day as a kid.

on boxing day every year, australia hosts a match of test cricket against another international cricket team. cricket is a slow sport (the boxing day test is like five days long), but visit any aussie household with an adult man present, and the boxing day test is absolutely on the tv. it’s one of those things that make most australians patriotic, even if for the rest of the year they couldn’t care less. i don’t think chase was a cricket kid, but he liked watching craig mcdermott’s fast-bowling against india in ‘85. gave him something to talk about with his mates when school started again.

that said, rowan absolutely had tickets to the big game almost every year, either as work gifts or consolation for his wife and kids when he couldn’t (read: didn’t want to) be there during the holiday celebrations. since it’s held at the melbourne cricket ground, chase probably attended a few. they’re gruelling all-day matches, and not exactly entertaining for young kids, but chase probably looks back at the memories fondly: his mum slathering him with zinc and bug spray, constantly yelling at him to keep his hat on, promising to buy him an icecream at half-time

chase seemed pretty aware of his surroundings as a kid, at least in his home. he never failed to catch his mum’s solemn expressions while cleaning up wrapping paper and preparing platters of fruit and cold cuts, while retcon sister played happily with her presents. rowan never labelled his gifts “from Santa”, not even when retcon sister was young enough not to know: their mum always did.

every year, chase was jealous of retcon sister about something. did she get a larger slice of panettone? did she get one more gift from rowan? did she get to be blissfully ignorant on christmas day, swimming and snacking and not having to worry about how many times mum had topped up her white wine, or how heavy her sighs became as the day got hotter? their competition wasn’t always friendly — sometimes he got pissy, and spat cruel insults at her until she ran off to cry in private. neither of them ever told their mother

[possibilistfanfiction]

arcane prompt "hospital"?

[jinx deserves the world, also it's nice to let cait use her girlboss disposition for good sometimes, yknow. ao3 here.]

///

you hand caitlyn a cup of black tea she probably thinks is beyond shitty; it's all they had at the cart in the courtyard, and you still have no idea how to make proper tea anyway. still, she smiles — small, and residually scared, but genuine — in thanks. she's been crying, you can tell: her eyes are red-rimmed and the sweater of vi's she'd thrown on in the middle of the night is rumpled around the sleeves, like she'd used them to wipe her tears.

'she's going to be okay, right?' you look at vi's still, bruised form in the bed. 'they didn't, like, tell you really bad news while i was gone or something.'

caitlyn steadies herself. 'no,' she assures you. 'she's going to be just fine.'

'okay,' you say, and you trust her because she loves vi and because she's a doctor, and mostly because at this point caitlyn wouldn't lie to you. you scoot your chair forward and lace your fingers together with vi's hand, the one without an iv taped into it, and squeeze gently, just a hello. the doctors had explained that she's on a lot of medicine to keep her comfortable, plus the anesthesia from her surgery, so she's not going to wake up until midday at the earliest. but just in case she can feel you, you want her to know that you're there. you remember coming out of the worst sedations, medication that was wrong for you or just way too high a dose, to vi slumped next to your bedside, her big, strong hand steadfast around yours. 'did you see her x-rays or medical history or something?'

'i didn't intend to,' she says in way of an answer.

'ah.' you fiddle with vi's fingers. 'gnarly, huh?'

she puts her tea down on the small table near the bed and runs a hand through her hair before she scrapes it up into a messy ponytail. 'i knew, in theory,' she says. 'we've talked about things, of course. i'm able to help take care of when her chronic back pain flares, and how she really should have a surgical repair on her bad shoulder. but, i just, well. i suppose i comprehend the breadth of it now, more completely at least, the details in a way i can understand.'

you don't know; you don't ever want to know, not like that. vi still has nightmares about prison, still doesn't eat enough sometimes, still refuses heating pads and advil sometimes after a hard shift. 'yeah.'

'and i suppose, too, that it's hard to know how much she's hurt, even if it's so much less bad now.' she shrugs, helpless, and looks at you. 'i just love her.'

it had been terrifying, to get a call in the middle of the night from the fire department: vi had been in a building when it collapsed, and she was hurt and it was, potentially, very bad. you're not sure who they'd called first — you or caitlyn — but she'd texted you a minute after and offered to pick you up so you could both wait at the hospital while vi was in surgery. it had taken two hours before her dad came out and explained that vi had some internal injuries that still needed more fixing in surgery, as well as a few bruises and scrapes, but she would recover fully with time.

'you should move in with each other,' you say.

caitlyn pauses for a few moments, but then she lets out a quiet laugh. 'how long have you been holding that in?'

you shrug. 'you guys have been together for two years. i know vi wants to.' you don't mention that you hack into caitlyn's person email on occasion, just because you like to be nosey; you don't mention that you'd seen her and vi send property listings back and forth the last few months. 'i know she hasn't said anything to me because she doesn't want to upset me, or make me think like she's choosing you over me, or whatever.'

caitlyn considers it calmly. 'she would never do that, you know.'

'yeah.' you do; it's the thing you know most in the world. 'i also know that she's scared that if she doesn't help me at much, i'll have another episode.'

that, caitlyn has no response to.

'i've talked about this a lot in therapy.' you squeeze vi's hand, just in case she's listening too. 'at first i couldn't manage any of it without her, for sure.'

vi had spent her first month out of prison visiting you in your tent in the scariest part of town, not pushing, just bringing you food and warm clothes, comfortable blankets; she'd sit with you for hours if you'd let her, even if most of the time you talked to voices only you could hear and saw things she never would. finally, you agreed to go to the hospital with her, and from there it was more months of getting clean, and trying different medications, and really lame group therapy, and coming to terms with your diagnosis. vi was there as often as she could be, clean-cut for once while she went through the fire academy. you don't remember many details, but when you'd finally gotten released, she'd brought you to this small, rundown one bedroom apartment that she'd made as nice as she could. the first night you were home, she fell asleep in bed next to you in less than a minute, a few tears on her cheeks, seemingly of their own accord. it's always been a measure of love you'll always be a little in awe of.

'but, like, i remember my meds on my own now. i have a system.'

caitlyn's smile is honest-to-god proud. 'that's no small feat.'

you try to act nonchalant, but she's right: most of your medications have side effects that require other medications to off-set, and it's a nightmare if you don't coordinate them properly. 'and, like, my graduate program is going well, and i have friends, and i like climbing. i feel, not good, i guess. maybe i'll never feel good. but i feel real, and most of the time the world feels real too.'

caitlyn lays her hand on top of yours, and vi's.

'anyway,' you say, clearing your throat so you don't cry. you run your free hand through your hair, grown out some now after your "interesting decision," as vi had said, last year during a meltdown. 'vi can move out, and ekko can move in to our apartment. he's —' your boyfriend? your best friend? your favorite person, other than vi?

caitlyn smiles gently. 'he is.'

'he knows what to do, if i need help.'

'and i know you want to live with vi, and i know she wants to live with you.' even though you invade their privacy by checking emails, you'd never spill the beans that they've both individually been looking at rings. 'i can manage, without her there as much. i don't think either of us ever thought that would be our reality, which is why vi hasn't brought it up. i know she's still scared, probably forever. it was scary.' you take a big breath and then let it out; when you'd first gotten your diagnosis, it seemed like you would never get to be a full, independent person, and then it would be a death sentence. 'but i want to try. i can try.'

caitlyn squeezes your hand, and vi's too. 'i believe you will do wonderfully, in both my professional and personal opinion.'

'oh. really?'

she nods. 'you haven't had a full blown episode in over a year. i see you manage your days, and your impulses. clinically, you're actually a great patient. personally, you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but not because you're unwell.'

'just because of my stunning charm and incredible sense of humor? my flair for the dramatic?'

'something like that, sure.'

you laugh. 'thank you, so so much.'

she rolls her eyes but she's still fond of you, especially in the early morning light. vi's eyes are both bruised blue, but caitlyn had told you that surgeons had finally fixed her broken nose after it broke again this time: you're pretty sure vi hasn't been able to breathe properly since she was, like, twelve. at the very least she'll snore less, so a win for all of you. 'we found a house we want to put an offer in on,' she admits.

'yeah?'

she nods. 'it's not too far from your place, and it's right on the park.'

you scoff, just for posterity. 'fancy.'

she's unfazed by this point. 'we — well, vi was going to tell you, but i know it's fine if i do. we know you and ekko want to keep your current place, and i'd actually like to sit down with both of you and see if there's any way i can assist with your rent or other budgetary items.'

you're definitely, 100% about to cry, all of a sudden.

'she is so proud of you, for even being able to consider pursuing increased independence.'

you sniffle.

'but, the brownstone we're looking at also has a fully finished basement, with a bedroom and a small living area, its own bathroom. we've planned for it to be your space, whenever you want it, for any reason, for however long you'd like to stay. a night, a year. you will always have a home with violet, which means you will always have a home with me too.'

you have to do your deep breathing: sometimes kindness, especially given freely, is what makes the world slide most off-kilter. there are always voices telling you that you don't deserve good things, that caitlyn, and vi, and ekko, and vander, and even caitlyn's parents, when you go over to their giant ass mansion for celebratory dinners or parties, are lying to you. but you put your head down against your joined hands and count to ten, whisper it aloud, and then sit back up. caitlyn is waiting patiently.

'how big is the house?'

she laughs, heartily, and pulls out her phone to show you pictures and specifications. it's beautiful — not that you'd ever expect less of caitlyn kirammen — but she also tells you the plans she has to decorate, and your chest aches with a happiness so tinged with grief when she casually explains things vi wants in each room too. it's a life you never dreamed you'd get to have, and you know vi has probably been having total menty-b's about all of this, but she deserves a home more than anyone you've ever met.

'it's fine, i guess,' you say, after caitlyn finishes showing you their plans for the patio and yard.

caitlyn laughs. 'up to your standards?'

'could use more neon.'

'keep it confined to the basement, and you've got a deal.'

'ugh.'

'the only request i have is that you not blow it up.'

you pretend to contemplate. 'that's reasonable, i guess.' you look around at all the monitors proclaiming your big sister's strong heart and lungs and brain, despite it all. 'vi's gonna be so relieved that we don't have to have a heart to heart when she wakes up.'

caitlyn looks at the still planes of vi's face adoringly. disgusting, still. 'she'll be difficult enough as it stands, i'm sure.'

'total pain in the ass.'

////

you spend the first night after vi moves out in your apartment with ekko, and you fall asleep with your head tucked into his chest, safe still, even now. that weekend, you haul a duffle bag of your stuff — clothes, toiletries, a quarter of your lab, a few cans of spray paint — to vi and caitlyn's new house. neither of them are home yet, vi stuck grumpily on desk duty for the evening and caitlyn's meeting running over.

but your key turns in the lock, and your favorite snacks are stocked in the pantry. eventually, they both get home, and they're happy to see you, and caitlyn laughs at the improvements you've already done to the walls of the basement. vi ruffles your hair and you bully both of them into ordering tacos like you want, even though they have plenty of things you could cook at home. caitlyn is polite enough to let you curl up with vi on the couch, just for tonight, and you fall asleep, safe and warm, there too.

[patrik6090]

Fire emblem (but with actual effort done by someone for someone who has heard penny rambled and played most of the games)

Patrik6090: Iago, fruitiest Tumblr Mf turned into (one of) fruitiest fire emblem MFs

pennyroyald: Annette, sweet cute girl that will bash your head in for both approval and anger issues

Mari: Camilla, a type of knight and also lilac hair ignore the icky maybe incest stuff and bam it's Mari Even personality wise

@importantpeachfury : Lianna, the princess of aytolis probably makes her rich, she's also blond and is like peach if she was smart except still dumb but also way smarter

manicali: Henry, a dark mage who kills others with a smile, he is also a heroic sided character and fits eerily close to manic in character

Groggle: Tune, two entity's of pure chaos

@stargazing-with-friends : Eleanora, a mature and smart elder woman and mother of protagonist eliwood, she fits ig

@ms-macintosh : Al, an annoying dumbass who wins at everything and is way cooler then people say they are, unfairly hated, perfectly fits them

@aflairforthemelodramaticc : generic villager, basic

@half-fey-freak-of-nature : Tsubasa Oribe, reasoning, VIBES VIBES VIBES

@sleepy-boything-shit : viron, Fruity Mf with similar vibes even if they act different

@f4y3w00d5 : Faye, both obbsesive and neglected and also FAYE AS FAYE I COULDNR RESIST TOAKE FAYE FAYE

@decaffeinatedcatkitten :Gunter, reasoning? Vibes

@canisnebular : Jamie, reasoning? Same vibes

@sarrinight :claud (FE4) basically you if you were a wimp

@asqadia-banthen : ylgr, murder child with axe

@eirxair : FE12 bantu, reasoning? He's the worst character in the game

@losairr : Azuka advisor of pelleas, reasoning? He's a scumbag racist and you give off similar vibes, but you also feel like you have similar personality which is the selling point

@letmeoutofthebasementplease : Lilith, she's the closest thing to a slime girl in fire emblem I can think of and your a slime girl in my head, she doesn't act much like you though

illusionsignmisdirecti0n: Julius, idk you give jule vibes

@weenietickler : glen, reasoning? VIBES

@wyfy-meltdown : Sharena, Kind, cute, gambler, always ignored by isnysts and she's a hero,

@moongasux : Kris, reasoning? Your similar to each other

@roeldraws : Keaton, reasoning? WOLFBOY IS WOLFBOY

@the-rat12 : Layla, VIBES and Music

@ihavehomework2dobutimhereinstead : Kempf, AMERICA ITSELF AS KEMPF AMERICA ITSELF

@gobodegoblin : Sothis, vibes

@iri-desky : Manuela, Music girl

@pansexualcake9 : shinon, no explanation needed

@vee1021 : Catria, your litteraly them

@enbypalsidk : Naesala, your Naesala id they were a girl and nice

@watercraver : Oliver, I don't need to explain

@mayowayo : Alfred(??????????) idk I couldn't figure someone out and they were the biggest almost maybe

@untitled14360 : Titania, old lady who's mentally strong and has similar vibes

@kimisbunny : Bord, a strong hearted warrior with great determination and muscle who works best with his partners who are like brothers to him

@sunsickle : Læraðr, you command the same level of intimidation and respect, you give off his aura of power and his level of anger

@durdurdurrrb : eda, Vibes

@im-an-anthusiast : Python, strong sassy and strong, might be confusing him with someone else but don't wanna look up the name

@transfem-users ' Dimitri, Dimitri is a transfem egg in my eyes

@yuris-redgreen-drink : Manuela, you two are the same person

@sarah-ankh : Minerva, a strong powerful charismatic amazing woman and lady who is amazing

@cado-thingy : genny, same vibes

@irishfry : Oscar, you are literally him

@apjofan : alcryst, Seemingly wimpy and untalented, but he is in truth a worthy and smart young man deserving of millions of praise

@tameable50 : yarne, you are bunny and yarne is bunny

@lovegood3173 : surtr, he's you if you were evil and mean

@poisoned-sugar11 : linhardt, communism

@frost-the-soulcrow-elytrian : Limstella, same people

@stervers : Rennac, he's just a normal guy

@soruset : dream King freyr, same vibes

@jellyfishrui : Makalov, you if you were a bad person

@stargazer365 : Forrest, he acts a lot like you, he's also an artist like you, and he's femme presenting and probably a furry just like you

@bees-official : Wildlife, the wildlife in fire emblem

@poppy-petals18 : Farina, little tomboy who hates her big sis and loves money, which fits how you act

@green774 774: fire emblem, you are the entire franchise of fire emblem

🤹: Xane, a trickster freelancer

Girlkisser: Loptous, ELDRITCH GOD ALERT

Puki anon: Alfaðör, old man and father of many

Mango: Loki, seductive purple haired women

R.S: duma, I'm god of war

Plutowhoops: peri, She loves murder and she's also really cute, she murders innocents for fun and also likes fires so she's basically Pluto

Ooh Lago seems fun! Looks like he wakes up with a defeated sigh and a groan every morning

So just like me fr fr

[roseofcards90]

this is super random, but did you notice that gekkabijin didn't appear at all in coquelic's flashback/vision(??) of the garden in flora unfurl?

this paired with the fact that gekka technically failed the garden admission test but was let in (for whatever reason i gen forgot 😭) ... do you think that coq doesn't see her as a member of the garden? or gekka doesn't see herself as one? or maybe both???

OH!!! This is so interesting actually, I ended up looking into it because I was also confused on Gekka’s Garden status 😭

I think long story short, she is still considered a member of the Garden (to Coq and the others) while Gekka seems to see herself as a member but she doesn't think she's strong enough to be??? Let me try and explain.

Shown here in Gekka's arrest records, we do know she was defeated by Sumire in the test, but she was still allowed to join the Garden. That would make her a member:

Gekka herself still has her personal goal of trying to become the "number one assassin". She doesn't want to be weak, so she's trying to improve herself and train. Despite being accepted as a member, they think she is still not worthy of joining. Gekka was also the one who chose her own name, not the mentor/Coquelic:

Because of what she says here, it seems like she doesn't really view herself as a "true" member? And that's why she keeps training, why her wish is to be stronger and become a worthy member. Despite this though, she's looped in with the other Garden members in Coquelic's interrogation. She's clearly close with them and treated as a member there.

In Glitchwave Nihil, she is the only member to not become a stand in the real world, and she even remarks on this in the messages you get during the event. She's sad that she was the only one left behind 😭 this seems to suggest that at the very least, she sees herself as a member but still thinks she isn't strong enough.

Because of her voice lines and her ECB text, we also know that the mentor looked down on Gekka while she was there. This is one of the major reasons why Gekka continues to train and why she also doesn't think she's strong enough for the Garden:

"So piteously weak that I don't even want to bother killing you."

The mentor's attitude we see here is noteworthy because it's pretty unclear who the mentor is here (something that the sin website also takes note of). This could be the previous mentor, or it could be Coquelic. I am heavily leaning towards this person being Coquelic, only because that harshness (which often masks the concern she has for her flowers) as a mentor is a trait she's shown to have before in Sumire's interrogation and in general (idk if you've played through Sumire's interro but basically Coq is very harsh there with her because she doesn't want the Chief to betray Sumire and have her get hurt). I don't think it's that farfetched to say this was Coquelic trying to protect Gekka because she wasn't ready to be a full on member yet.

In short, I think Gekka ultimately sees herself as a member, but she is still in the whole "I need to be stronger" mindset so that's probably she seems a bit more distant than the others.

What about Coquelic though?

I also think Coquelic and the others see her as a member, despite her lack of a presence in Flora Unfurl. A lot of this is evident in Coquelic's interrogation, where she is treated as one of them.

Coquelic mentions her along with Sumire, the other Garden member at the bureau at the time when she is trying to get captured by the MBCC:

And she is included with them again when Coq talks about each of her flowers and their wishes. The one for her and Gekka is interesting because it seems to suggest that Coq was the mentor who looked down upon Gekka before (although it could still be the previous mentor who did this tbh. That part is unlcear, but I think it would make sense given Coq's tough love attitude and their relationship)

I'm not exactly sure why Gekka isn't really shown in Coq's vision (assuming you mean this image) but it could just be because she wasn't involved in the Rain Burst/Flora Unfurl story line, so that's why she's not present in this 😭 (kinda sucks that she's being left out yeah but I'm glad they still have her in the interro)

We know that despite not being shown there, she is still included here in Coquelic's interrogation, which definitely suggests to me that she is a member of the Garden to Coquelic and the others.

Also it’s funny that you mention that scene from Flora Unfurl because I also wondered why Gekka wasn’t shown there when I first went through the event fkdjndfj what's even more funny is that in Coquelic’s interro, another similar scene shows up except Thistle is the one not included this time LMAO:

But I think the reason why Thistle isn't here (and also why she doesn’t show up in Coq’s interro like the others and only in a flashback) is probably because they didn’t want to show her new design yet 💀 since Thistle's interrogation takes place before Coq wakes up (and she's in her new outfit there), it's not like they could've shown her here lmao since she released as a playable character after Chapter 13, and Coquelic's interro released way before then (despite the story itself taking place after Chapter 13).

Still mentioned tho!!! Also iirc in Thistle's interro, Coq only began to wake up when all the members of the Garden were present there, another nod to Gekka being considered a member to her!

TLDR: THEY ARE ALL ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY, COQ IS JUST A GRUMPY OLD GRANDMA ABOUT IT KDJSNDFKJKFD

[fruitbasketball]

The crazy thing is we saw it work last year with all the injuries and despite the early losses and her out of position we made it to the final four and very nearly won so it should theoretically work this year but it's not and instead of accepting that its not working he got people talking crazy on my girl for no fucking reason instead of letting her cook in her actual position and I'm not an expert but I think it's gonna make her transition harder when she's expected to be the starting pg every game but is out of practice because she's been primarily off ball for the last few years which is just setting her up for even more hate even after she leaves

okay here’s what i think about last season vs this season

by this time last season, we had a set starting lineup

the only person paige has been able to depend on this year from a standpoint of consistency and production is sarah strong

versus: last year, when the lineup was more solid, she knew who would be where and when as the 4. it’s easier to play off ball and out of position when you know the pieces you have to work with.

also last year, i really think it boiled down to comparative advantage. it was more valuable to keep nika on the floor in position than move paige to the 1. first, bc nika was used to this system and this level of competition. second, bc paige was producing well at the 4. third, because nika had been playing that position and had proven to be a successful two way guard already.

the comparative advantage of starting chen doesn’t outweigh paige at the 1, imo. like, when you come off the bench at uconn, you’re still a huge piece. you still get big minutes. i get that probably wasn’t the idea when she transferred, but tough shit baby. this is connecticut basketball.

paige is in this weird 2/3 position with inconsistent lineups and a lack of defensive presence overall, and it’s really not doing ANYONE any favors; much less her and geno

[yuwuta]

okk but what do u think about poly bakudeku i feel like this has to be f2l all three of u childhood friends but idk im handing the mic to u yuwuta

i’ve tried to be sane looking at this ask but the same three scenarios keep rotating in my head so allow me to explain them all but you’re so right on the childhood friends pipeline. it truly is the strongest trope of them all <3

version one: those idiots get together first and they’re kind of mad that you’re so happy for and supportive of them. shouldn’t you feel some kind of resentment that they left you out? shouldn’t you be pinching izuku’s cheek and punching katsuki’s arm for them getting together without you? you’ve beat them up for much less so why are you so complacent about this? it makes them angry, it makes them confused; they didn’t start seeing each other just to spite you but they expected something stronger than this. you’re supposed to want them as much as they want each other, it’s supposed to be the three of you. what’s it going to take for you to grab them and demand that they carve out space for you too, when are you going to make them yours again

alternatively: the two of them being your guard dogs in a sense. they fight amongst themselves just as much as they’re willing to fight off others for your attention. contrary to popular belief, izuku is worse than katsuki. he’s the one that leaves dead rodents in the lockers of boys who send you valentines, leaves cryptic anonymous messages in their game chats and inboxes of coworkers who stare at you a little too long, sends bouquets of knives with just the right smear of blood to the bartender who can’t seem to get a hint. katsuki is much more in the shadows, an intimidating presence that fends off hopeful suitors—but really he’s more concerned with keeping you in, than keeping others out. katsuki’s role is to remind you how good you have it with him and izuku, to show you how nice it is to have two people who care about you this much, to get you to see that they’ve already ruined you for anybody else bc he can guarantee not a single other person could do for you what they’re willing to. or whatever 😚

more alternatives: it takes you going abroad for both katsuki and izuku to realize that the reason their last three dates have been awkward is because they’re missing you. that the reason kissing and confessing felt wrong despite having such strong feelings is because you’re not there and falling into each other is great but they wish they could catch you too. knowing those idiots they’d show up to wherever it is you are, izuku huffing and knocking on your door incessantly and when you ask him what the fuck he’s doing there his breaths are still labored when he smiles and says, “i raced kacchan here… told him i would win… ha—we, we have something to tell you—” and then loud, angry footsteps can be heard from the stairway and a very red in the face katsuki emerging to say that izuku better not be confessing without him. and the whole time you’re just blinking and figure you guys should probably not do this in the hallway