#i don't feel like I've even listened to them so much??

[earthtooz]

Rin is definitely the type of boyfriend who gets flustered when you praise him and tell him how cute he is

FOR SUREEEEE, gn!reader, new relationship rin so he's a bit clueless.

“what are these bags for?” 

itoshi rin stands before your doorway with multiple grocery bags in his hands, all stuffed to the brim. he doesn’t let you help, striding into your apartment without a care in the world. granted, he probably lifts more at the gym, so you doubt some groceries would inconvenience him. he doesn’t even struggle when he places them on your kitchen counter.

“they're for you.” 

your eyes widen a little. “everything?”

“is that problem?”

“no- it’s just that you bought so many things,” you murmur, rummaging through the bags. inside you see numerous packagings of the same product, all in different flavours. “you bought... chips, cookies, cakes, milk, and melon pan?”

“there's matcha and strawberry as well.”

“rin," you huff, shaking your head. "as much as i appreciate your thoughtfulness, this is a bit much.”

he tucks his hands in his pockets. “i didn’t know which ones you liked, so i bought one of every flavour.”

“you could have just called and asked.”

rin blinks at you before averting his gaze, shyness overtaking him. “i… didn’t want to bother you.”

suddenly, two cold hands cup his cheeks, forcing him to look back at you and your cool skin is a nice contrast to the sudden heat that creeps up his neck.

“you're so cute,” you murmur.

then he feels you press a kiss to the corner of his lips, and his eyes widen. your warmth- the heat of your body pressed against his, always sends his brain into overdrive, and his whole face is flushed red by the time you part from him.

"you will never be a bother, message or call whenever you want." you reassure, the athlete watching you like a hawk as you take a step back to go through the bags. "you even bought some things i've never tried before! we can eat them together."

rin wants to listen. really, he does, but all he can think about is how he wants you to kiss him again, except he doesn't think he can utter a coherent sentence.

'you're so cute', he keeps repeating your words over and over again to try and wrap his head around the fact that you find him cute.

you even sealed it with a kiss.

"this must have been so expensive," you mutter while picking out every item. "i should pay you back for this-"

he scoffs. "you don't need to pay me back, that's stupid. i got these for you because i wanted to."

rin feels your arms circle around his torso, your face burying into the cashmere of his sweater and then he feels you squeeze him even tighter. "you're so sweet. i really have the best boyfriend."

the heat rushes back to his cheeks. this time, you notice it.

"are you blushing?" the turn of his head is instantaneous, hiding his flustered face from you.

"no."

"you're cute when you lie."

he grows even redder.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[inchidentally]

this is such a sweet quote and Lando's said exactly the same as well <3<3

but askfgsalfg why is this proving what I've kinda been suspecting and Zak doesn't rly fit in with landoscar and has largely not had as much to do w the driver partnership as he used to

we already knew from Andrea that Lando and Oscar do their own little separate debriefs and they were so excited about getting their own door separating them from everyone where it used to be in a shared hallway (including Zak)

but the golf, the dinners and the marketing stuff is all referring to Carlos' and Daniel's eras. Oscar couldn't even be bribed to play golf, is literally famous for not wanting to do marketing/contrived PR content and not being good at it, and the only "dinner" situation after Hungary was Lando and Oscar eating fast food with other drivers and then playing board games with Alex on the flight home ?? we also know that these debrief dinners don't happen otherwise bc Oscar usually goes home to sleep or out with Lily and Lando goes out being a very single guy or gaming w Max and BanKai etc. that post race debrief finishes and those two peace OUT. and tbh the amount that they've chosen to fly together to and from things now Oscar lives in Monaco, they've taken even more of that debriefing into their own hands!

like I just get the vibe that Zak doesn't rly have the boys club anymore and Andrea being Dad to his two kids is how things are rly being managed. even down to him sometimes wanting to be the bad guy that the two kids bond over hating sometimes even tho they love Dad really. that's just not a dynamic I see Zak fitting into. (and ngl probably some of the Daniel era in particular those tensions needed to be managed between him and Zak but aaaaaanyway)

I say this as someone who fully expects Lando and Oscar to have normal teammate fights at some point where there's the strong words to the media and angry radios etc etc - the fact that they decided so early on in their relationship to do a teammate version of 'private but not secret' couple thing of keeping fans and media out of their business, both good and bad, means they're absolutely discussing and strategizing about this (bc especially after alpinegate and taking Daniel's seat, it would've been very handy and easy for them to go a bromance angle!). which as a charlos veteran and also someone who knew the Max and Lando fight would blow over faster than anyone thought it would, I'm never going to be fazed by a fight between Lando and Oscar - but I'm also just not sold on it ever getting as out of control as so many people want/expect it to. and I feel that way partly at least bc I think there's been sort of a gen z gender neutralling happened to McLaren bc of this partnership (not as much of the usual of masculine/boys being boys energy*)

but also bc there's only one big personality/celebrity instead of two. off the track, Lando and Oscar perfectly compliment each other's personalities including how their friendship is a quiet thing rather than a big media-beloved bromance so they don't have the burden of managing fan expectations and reactions about it. you can kind of parallel it with the Lando and Max fight last season bc those two are genuinely involved in each other's lives as friends and spend the most time with each other than any other driver, including Lando being a regular fixture in Max's little family - but Max doesn't do PR at all so a lot of people still don't know how close they are. so the assumption was that their fight was this massive thing and the end of their relationship but a lot of us were like pfffff this'll blow over and Penelope's uncle will be back before she could even notice.

in the same way, Lando and Oscar doing all their bonding time out of the public eye and being the only two people who truly know how they feel about each other at any time means they are the only authority anyone should listen to! when they say 'fight over' they mean fight over! when they giggle and laugh waiting for a plane together after Monza or smile in relief at each other immediately after getting out of the cars in Hungary, then that's the truth! they're choosing not to let fans and the media in on this so that fans or the media can't feel they know better and contradict them!

and that's where I think Zak is more on the outside of things too. when even Andrea is like yea these boys are talking about things before speaking to their own teams then it feels like that's a real shift away from the explosive teammate dynamics everyone keeps referring to.

*which I'm not saying is inherently bad or toxic! esp since the dynamic of it with Lando and Carlos and Daniel was of scrungly little brother and adoring loud big brother <3

[buddiekinard]

a thing because i keep thinking about lou's naked body and i can't stop thinking about mpreg .....don't look at me..... This is just in my head and sometimes it's gotta get out. I am not starting another wip on tumblr. I am not.

Tommy turns off his truck outside of Eddie's house. He'd gone by the station first, but Evan is apparently off today. He wasn't at the loft either. Tommy could just call him, but this isn't a phone call conversation. This is a face to face in person conversation.

He sees Evan's jeep in the drive way, so at least he won't have to ask Eddie where Evan is. He hasn't talked to Eddie in over a month either.

He wonders if Eddie's decorated for Christmas. He doesn't know what's going on with Eddie and Christopher. He supposes that's what happens when you break up with your friend's best friend. They kind of aren't your friend anymore. (Not that Tommy had tried to contact him, either, even though he had texted him, once, the morning after he'd broken up with Evan.)

He grips the steering wheel and lets out a slow breath before getting out of his truck. He passes Evan's jeep on his walk up the drive and almost turns and runs back to his truck. Evan would never know he was here. He could keep his secret, figure out what to do on his own. Evan would never have to know.

Evan probably doesn't want anything to do with Tommy, and Tommy can't blame him. He'd run instead of talking, but then. Evan had jumped head first in to move in with me without talking, too. So he's trying not to blame himself too much.

He's just about to ring the buzzer when the door swings open and Evan is standing in front of him, box in his hand.

"Tommy? Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Would you believe me if I said looking for you?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Well, you weren't at the station or at home, so I thought I'd try Eddie's." Tommy tries to remind himself why he's here, so he doesn't cut and run again. He knows this man has the power to break his heart, and it's a hart power for him to give up.

"You could have called me instead of driving all over the city?"

He pushes past Tommy with the box in hand and drops it in the back of Eddie's truck.

"This isn't a phone conversation."

"I spent two weeks doing nothing but try to talk to you." Evan turns to go back inside and then Eddie walks past with a duffle and tosses it in the passenger seat.

"Tommy? Hey, what are you doing here?" Eddie looks between them, raises an eyebrow at Evan in question, and then turns to give Tommy a skeptical look.

"It's fine, Eddie. I'm fine." Evan looks back at Tommy. "If you want to talk to me you can follow me inside. I have another suitcase to bring out.

"Is Eddie leaving?"

"No, but he's going to El Paso for a while." Evan picks up a suitcase. "You have really great timing."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for your timing? Sorry for breaking my heart to save your own? Which one is it?"

"Evan, can you stop for two seconds?"

Evan stops walk and drops his shoulders to look at Tommy. His face crumbles a bit, and Tommy can see he's not angry. There's something behind his eyes that says he's trying not to break. Tommy understands. He's felt that way for a month.

"I've stopped what do you need?"

"Maybe not here."

"Look, this is where we are, and Eddie is leaving today, so I'm not going anywhere, so you can talk to me here or we can meet later."

"Evan - "

"I miss you." Evan says. "I'm glad you're calling me Evan. It felt like a knife to the gut when you called me Buck." He sits down on Eddie's couch, slumping into it a little. "Sit."

Tommy does as Evan says.

"What's going on, Tommy? I'll listen." "Evan, I have to tell you something."

"I get that. What is it, Tommy?"

"I - " Tommy feels like he should run. Maybe running was always the right choice.

"Tommy." Evan rests his hand on Tommy's thigh. It's just a soft gesture. Tommy missed touching Evan. He's not mad at it. "What is it? You're not dying, are you?"

"I'm pregnant, Evan."

"Uh - " Their heads snap behind them to find Eddie standing there. "Right, I'm going to just, uh. I'm gonna go to the kitchen. Right. Coffee for the road."

Eddie disappears into the next room.

Tommy looks over at Evan, and he's just staring, not saying anything.

[demigodsanswer]

Could we see modern royals percabeth and their babies 🥺

Here's one baby for now. A look at Percy and Annabeth (Ambritt) as parents from a third party

When Maria started working for the royal family after the death of the queen, she hadn't expected to stay employed by them for this long. Little Ambritt was a sweet girl and easy enough to take care of. It was rare for her to be out of her father's sight if she wasn't in school, meaning that there was little for Maria to do most of the time. After Ambritt had aged out of needing a nanny, Maria was bounced around to cousins, other nobles, and even recommended to a few wealthy people. She enjoyed the work. It took her around the world, kept her housed in lavish spaces, and surrounded by small children.

But being recalled to the royal family to help take care of Ambritt's own baby did make Maria feel as old as dirt.

Sofia was an easy child to care for, much like Ambritt herself. Oh, even at three months, she had her mother's spirit and lungs, without a doubt. And she wasn't exactly sleeping through the night yet. But her parents didn't exactly leave Maria with much work to do.

It was Sofia's first time in an airplane. The three-month-old was handling the noise and pressure changes well, although she hadn't let her father put her down the entire flight. Her parents were flying the family (and Maria) to Paris to celebrate their first wedding anniversary.

Even in the air, Ambritt was taking meetings, already joining her father in important national conversations when she could.

The consort wasn't needed, and so he was sitting and chatting with Maria. The consort had always been warm and kindly interested in hearing about her life. He particularly seemed to relish in stories of his wife's wild childhood years. The little princess was tucked into his arms, her eyes wide open, listening to them speak over the rumble of the engines. She had come into the world with blue eyes, like most little babies, but they had soon shifted to her father's green. For now, her head was covered in sparse blonde curls, but Maria suspected they would go brown or even black in due time just by looking at her father.

Sofia opened her mouth and made an uncomfortable little whining noise that bubbled up then into cries.

Before Percy could begin to assess his daughter's needs, the princess (the older one, that was), turned from her computer, her arms outstretched, and said: "She's hungry," as if the baby had spoken in plain Swedish.

Maria started to stand, but Percy just told her, "Oh, I've got it, stay, please." He passed his child to Ambritt, and then retrieved the nursing blanket, draping it carefully over his wife's shoulder as Ambritt undid her shirt and bra, eyes and ears still on the conversation.

"Should we give you a minute, ma'am?" A voice said over the computer.

"I'm alright," Ambritt confirmed.

A few minutes later, there was a fussy sound from under the blanket. Before Maria could stand, the parents passed the child from one to the other, the consort ready with a cloth over his shoulder.

"Your highness, I can --" Maria started.

"Don't you dare," Percy said with a smile as his daughter spit up onto the cloth.

"She's due for a nap, if she'll sleep on this thing," Ambritt said, removing the blanket now that her blouse was back in place.

"We'll do our best," Percy said, standing and bouncing his knees to rock the child. Maria could tell the we was simply him and his daughter.

Maria sat back in her seat and considered how many minutes were left until landing, while she watched the little princess fall asleep on her father.

[paddedlittleparadise]

"Baby's First Christmas" – Ream Teaser

Ever wonder what happens to good little cuckqueans during their first Christmas? Let mommy domme Corinne explain…

–––

"Welcome, welcome! Come on in, folks! It's cold as heck out there, isn't it? Sure, shoes off if you want…"

It's my first Christmas Eve as official lady of the house, and god am I loving it! Henry agreed to let me hold a party for our close friends tonight, and as our glittering tree and wealth of festive decorations make plain, that was all the license I needed to go all out. Honestly, why not? I'm not just Corinne anymore. I'm Mrs. Henry now: housewife, sexily attired hostess, interior decorator, party planner…

Oh yes. And also the capable second mother to Amy. Amy, Henry's former wife… who just earlier this year officially became our ward.

But that's all beside the point right now. Here are our good friends Dawn and Eli, rosy-cheeked and laughing, shrugging out of their coats and scarves and boots in the entryway while I bubble and effuse about how wonderful it is to see them. And I mean it, too! Not only are they going to bring a much-needed dose of socialization to our little household, but they're also going to be amazing interacting with Amy. Because, well…

"Exactly!" I bubble, leading them out into the gloriously festive living room. "It's her first Christmas Eve party since all the changes, you know. Here, where did she crawl off to? Amy! Amy, come out and say hi to our guests!"

Oh, there she comes: dragged reluctantly out of the hallway by my handsome Henry, her sweet Mary Jane shoes scraping and sliding unwillingly along the linoleum. She's done up exactly as I envisioned, too. I mean, just look at that adorable holiday outfit I put together for her! That red-and-green plaid dress! those matching hair ribbons for her pigtails! those frilly socks! those fluffy petticoats! that adorable diaper bum and frilly diaper cover peeking out with every step!

None of it is the sort of thing a twenty-something-year-old woman would normally wear, of course. But by now, every person here knows that Amy is no ordinary young woman.

"Aww! OMG, Corinne – she looks so freaking adorable! You gotta tell me where you got that outfit! And those socks?!" Dawn is squealing like a little girl herself – or rather, like the amused and extroverted girl friend I've always known her to be. Now she's stepping forward, hugging our blushing Little, who waddle-stumbles forward uncertainly into her old acquaintance's embrace. "Hey, there, sweetie! Don't you look festive? Are you excited that Santa will be coming tonight?!"

"Oh, she is," I interject. Amy's pacifier is dangling from the ruched front of her dress, and I stuff it into her mouth to stifle any protests. "It's been soo freaking cute, how excited she is for the holidays! See, earlier this week she wanted to get Christmas presents for me and Henry. But like, she's not exactly in any position to be buying anyone much of anything! So, we worked out a deal: Henry helped her make something for me and wrap it, and I did the same! So now she's got two darling little presents for us over there under the tree…"

I pause, feeling a flutter of delight as I glance down at the diminutive Amy, gazing up at us both with pacified mouth and cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Here, Amy. Why don't you go show Dawn all the presents? Go on, show her…"

Nor is Dawn's enthusiasm lacking. "Ooh – and we can tuck a few more under there, too! See, sweetie? We brought a few little things for you and your parents, too!"

And off they go. God, it's so sweet and laughable seeing my Amy waddling off to the tree. She was complaining like crazy when I was dressing her earlier this afternoon, of course. All fussy with her whines of "noo, I don' wanna diaper! I wanna wear pull-ups!" – as if she was remotely qualified to even try training pants anymore.

Fortunately, even Henry knows better than to listen to her and her silly whimpers. He has my back – which is why he didn't so much as blink when I wrapped her up in those double-thick and double-boosted Megamaxes. "After all, babe," I'd smiled serenely at Henry over her struggling whimpers, "I won't have time to change her during the party. Better safe than sorry!"

Anyway, it's frickin' cute, that ponderous waddle of hers. But busy as I am with the hundred and one things waiting for me in the kitchen, the most I can do right now is call over my shoulder to the trio of adults around the tree. "Hey – when you can, can one of you just check to see if she needs a change?"

It'd take Niagara Falls to soak that diaper she's got on. I know it well. But what's Christmas without a bit of fun? And god, there's little more fun than watching my husband's silly, juvenile little ex-wife blushing and squirming while everyone around her treats her exactly like the baby she deserves to be.

So yeah – it's no surprise when I hear a faint "Oh, yeah – wet. But she'll be good for a lot longer yet!"

In my imagination, the blush in her cheeks is probably just as beet red as the shine on these beautiful cranberries.

[…]

Want to read more? We've got the rest, plus many, many other stories all up on the PaddedLittleParadise Ream for your steamy pleasure!

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 4

Part 3

Gilbert: What's wrong, little rabbit?

I take Gilbert's hand, which was resting on my cheek, and held it in mine.

Emma: Even so, thank you very much.

Gilbert: ......

Gilbert: You're not listening to me at all, are you?

Emma: This is my thanks after having listened to you.

Gilbert: You're forgiving my evil deeds.

Emma: …… It may be an outrageous thing to say, but……

Emma: The important thing is, "how do I perceive it now", isn't it?

I let go of his cold hand and pick up the report that Gilbert was holding. The detailed contents might be frightening to some people.

(Even I wouldn't have been able to accept this so readily in the past.)

Emma: If Michael hadn't been there at that time, I would have been attacked by bandits.

Emma: At best, I would have only had my books stolen, but at worst, I could have died.

Emma: Whatever the circumstances, Gil saved me.

Emma: Whether that was out of malice or good will …… it's up to me to decide.

Gilbert: .....

Emma: More than anything, I've come to like Gil now.

Emma: It might be difficult for me to see it as malice like I used to.

(Gilbert occasionally warns me like this so that I can keep a normal perspective.)

(…… I think he's a fair person.)

Gilbert: Haha, you poor thing.

Gilbert: But…… I'm glad you don't hate me.

(……!)

Gilbert gently brushed my hand away and stood up.

Gilbert: Let's stop chatting for now.

Gilbert: Emma, you can throw that away.

Emma: Even though it was kept so carefully?

Gilbert: Yeah, I don't need it anymore.

Gilbert: The poor little rabbit is now being directly monitored by the villain.

(That's true, too.)

(...)

(Even if I become his fiancée, I won't be able to understand everything about Gilbert's heart.)

(But…… I feel like I understand what he's thinking at this moment.)

Emma: Gil.

I put the report on the shelf and hug Gilbert with enough force to bump into him.

Gilbert: What is it?

Emma: Just to be clear, I'm not forgiving you for everything.

Emma: I sometimes can't understand Gil's evil deeds…… At those times, I'll properly object to them.

Gilbert: Oh, really?

Emma: Have you forgotten? I'm watching you so that you don't do anything bad to Rhodolite.

Emma: I'm not the only one being watched by Gil.

(I will discern my own good and evil without being swayed by Gilbert.)

(That's…… because I think that's what Gilbert expects of me the most.)

Emma: So, don't worry.

Emma: Even if I love you, I'm not that blind.

His blood-colored eyes wavered slightly––and then gently softened.

Gilbert: …… You're too much.

Gilbert: You see right through everything.

His cold hand caressed my cheek again, and his lips were sealed by the shadow that fell.

Gilbert: I was finally getting in the mood to restart cleaning.

Emma: ……Nn……Gil?

The villain didn't stop pecking at my lips, and he sensually stroked my back from my waist.

Gilbert: I don't care anymore.

Emma: ……!……The cleaning……

Gilbert: You want me to do it properly?

Emma: No……

(If he touches me like this……I don't care anymore either.)

Emma: Can we do it……tomorrow……?

The breath that escaped my lips was hot, and my body was already pleading for the cleaning to end.

Gilbert: Hahaha, you're a bad girl too, aren't you?

Emma: ……But Gil, you were the one who asked for it first.

Gilbert: Yeah, but……

Gilbert: It's your responsibility for responding to it.

-

I catch my breath as it bounces on the jet-black sheets.

Gilbert, who has me pinned down, continues to caress my skin with tantalizingly gentle touches, having taken all my clothes off.

His fingertips, which avoided touching the places I wanted to be touched and only moved around the surrounding areas, had a clear malice to them.

(...It's embarrassing to say it directly...)

Emma: Come to think of it……

Emma: Is Michael still in Rhodolite?

Gilbert: Yeah, he is.

Emma: Why…… Ah

His fingers graze the peaks of my chest, and the ache deep in my stomach intensifies.

Gilbert: Oh no, who said you were the only one I had Michael keep an eye on?

Gilbert: Actually, I asked him to watch someone else too.

(Someone else……)

(……Could it be––)

Gilbert: Haha, little rabbit. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Emma: Eh……?

Gilbert: Thinking about another man while I'm right here in front of you.

Emma: ……The only thing I did on purpose was bring up Michael.

(I thought if I made him jealous, he might touch me more properly.)

Gilbert: Is that so? But it doesn't matter.

Gilbert: Why can you smile so gently while thinking about another man?

(I……was smiling.)

(But that's because––……)

Emma: ...Ah! Ah, nn—

Suddenly, the fingers that had been so gentle strongly stimulated a sensitive spot.

Emma: Haa... Wait... Aaa...Nn...

My body seemed to be more sensitive than usual, and honey immediately flowed between my legs.

Gilbert: That's terrible. I'm hurt.

Overwhelmed by a pleasure beyond imagination––

Just before I lost consciousness, the hand full of malice finally let go.

Gilbert: So, what exactly was that smile of yours about?

Gilbert: Depending on your answer……you understand, right?

He flicked my nipple with his finger, and a gasp escaped my lips.

Emma: Tha—Nn...That's not...true...

I force my ragged breathing to calm down and capture Gilbert's face in my blurred vision.

Emma: ...Gil is...

Emma: I just...thought you were a worrywart...

(He's extremely soft on people he's let his guard down around once.)

(...Though that sweetness can sometimes turn into malice––)

Gilbert: It can't be helped. Because in this world...

Gilbert: There are so many things that need to be cleaned up.

.

.

.

FIN

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[dragqueenstarscream]

as a starscream fan, what are ur thoughts on megatron? i know their relationship is. complicated so whatever ur opinions may be id love to hear

long ramble incoming. this isn't directed at you anon; i just have a lot of thoughts about megatron that i've kept bottled up for a while

my view on megatron is... complicated.

on the one hand, he's an incredibly iconic villain, and you could argue that without megatron, transformers as a property wouldn't be much of a thing. every iconic hero needs a villain. every optimus needs his megatron.

and he's a great villain! he's iconic for a reason. frank welker is my favorite voice for him, though i will say, my favorite megatron is tfa megs for how clever he is. it's refreshing to see when a lot of megatrons will brute force and anger their way through things.

but this is where my own personal biases color how i see him, because, i'm gonna be honest... for the most part, i really don't like him.

it's not because he's a poorly written character. i've spoken about this before, but i'm an abuse survivor who's still going through it, and megatron reminds me WAY too much of my abuser for me to really like him rather than just to appreciate him as a character. it's the big reason why starscream is my favorite. i see my tendencies in him, and i see megatron as my abuser, especially tfp and armada.

i think this is the big reason why i despise megastar as a ship. if you or anyone else likes it, that's fine! more power to you. i'm not gonna knock you as a person for it. but it makes me feel really gross whenever people draw/write it as "uwu toxic yaoi" or make them seem really in love with each other. to me, all i see is someone trapped in a cycle he can't escape from.

and i think my bias is why i pretty much refuse to read mtmte/lost light, because from what i know about it, megatron is given a chance at redemption. and... i just can't. i understand that a lot of people love these comics, and hey, they're probably really good! but i can't read something where i can so easily imagine this happening with my own abuser, and i put myself in starscream's shoes, wondering if anyone will actually take what i went through seriously.

it's one of the big reasons why the first season of earthspark was so good for me. finally, at last, starscream's abuse was taken seriously! he had someone who was willing to listen! even when people like optimus and dot were willing to get along with megatron, starscream was still going through emotional hell, and no one was willing to listen to him because, hey, megatron's good now! and starscream was a backstabbing traitor, who would listen to a guy like him? and when someone did, he started to change for the better.

but then the writing team got scrapped and his arc was flushed down the toilet. boo hiss.

either way, i can't read mtmte/lost light because i hate the idea of an abuser getting a second chance like that. i know that this is for character development/exploration, and i won't knock anyone who likes those comics. i just won't read them myself.

tl;dr, i recognize that megatron is an iconic character and i like some iterations of him, but for the most part, megatron reminds me of my abuser, which makes me really dislike him.

[sdmnpact]

˗ˏˋJealousyˎˊ˗

Wroetoshaw x Reader smut

**18+ MDNI**

~~~

You were laying on the couch at your boyfriend's flat watching videos on your laptop. He was in the kitchen making dinner for you two. A usual routine you guys follow, one cooks the other cleans afterwards. You two have built a cozy little life for yourselves. You find joy just being in each other's company, even if it means staying home most nights just cuddling on the couch. Sometimes you wish for a change of scenery and Harry makes sure to fill that desire by taking you to do fun activities in the city. You aren't usually an active person but sometimes you can't help but get a little jealous when Harry is out hiking, playing golf, or filming in some random country. He doesn't really take you out on those types of activities but you don't complain.

"Whatcha watching baby?" He asked as he came over and sat down, moving the pillow you were resting on so he can act as your headrest. You quickly get comfortable on his thigh as you readjusted yourself. You were just binging Joe Weller content, from his own videos to his features on the sidemen channel. You were quite enamored with him lately because of how much time he was spending with the boys. Something about his love for nature and his wild stories made you feel some type of way, creating a want, to learn more about him. You couldn't help but feel slightly attracted to him since he is so fit and adventurous.

**You're POV**

"Just some youtube videos..." I trailed off. Clicking on a different video. "Was that Joe Weller?" He asked partially joking partially serious. "Oh yeah." I awkwardly laughed. "Why are you acting weird?" He said tensing up. "I'm not, I'm fine."

"Seriously y/n! What is it!?"

"Okay, fine, I was watching him because he's interesting and does a ton of cool stuff! Is that wrong?" I said getting a bit defensive. "Well of course not unless you fancy him...." There was a long pause as silence filled the room. "Oh my God, you do fancy him!" He said getting up, leaving my head to plop on to the couch. "I mean, don't you fancy girls online!?"

To be fair, I've seen his Instagram feed and there are a couple onlyfans models he follows. I don't get upset about it because I know he loves me so I don't know why he's getting upset over this. "Well yeah, they're hot but I'm not subscribing to them and watching all their videos!" He semi shouted. There was a different look in his eye. A look of intense jealousy. "Listen Harry, it's just a couple of videos. It's not like I'm touching myself to them!" That line drove him over the edge. I could see the anger form in his eyes, like someone lit a fire.

"I'm sorry, what!?" He said getting a bit louder. " You want him to fuck you? Is that it!?" He said standing over me. "No, I want you to do it!" I said. Harry never and I mean NEVER gets angry like this. It was kind of hot. He was a bit taken back by my words but then I noticed another look in his eyes. Pure lust.

He grabbed my waist fiercely bringing me closer to him. I felt his hot breath on my face as he leaned down to my ear and with a deep musky voice said, "what'd you say?" It was over for me. I could just melt right now.

"I want you to fuck me." I said blatantly, running my fingers down his back putting my arms around his waist bringing it closer to mine. I felt him grow in his pants and I chuckled to myself. He wants it so bad. He pressed his lips against mine and I quickly melted into the kiss. He kissed me so sloppily and so rough like he was starving for more. I reach for his hair and ran my fingers though his blonde locks tugging at them slightly making him moan. I know pulling on his hair makes him go crazy. His hand explored my body feeling all my delicate areas making me shiver at his touch. He reached for my pants, unbuttoning them with one hand while the other hand held my waist. He unzipped them then threw me onto the couch with slight force but also in a way that still felt gentle.

He pulled off my pants and my underwear making sure to run his fingers slowly down my thighs and legs. I felt myself pulsating as he slowly caressed my inner thigh making me go wild. I looked down at him between my legs. His bright blue eyes and messy hair making him look so attractive. He brought his face closer to my throbbing heat holding onto my legs. He slowly kissed my inner thigh getting closer and closer to my heat with each kiss making my legs quiver. I gasped as I felt his wet tongue swirl on my lips. He looked up at me and I felt a smirk on his lips as he slipped his tongue inside. I gasped as I felt him enter. "Damn, you're soaking already?" he chuckled, the vibrations of his voice running through me like a jackhammer. He swirled his tongue inside my vulva knowing which spots make me feel good. My legs shaking as he kept exploring my walls.

I felt myself about to release when he stopped. "Wait darling-" He said quickly dropping his pants and boxers revealing his fully erect member. I smiled at the sight of him as he slowly slipped himself inside me making eye contact. He rocked his hips back and forth increasing his speed each time. He quickly grabbed my waist and spun us around so that he's sitting on the couch and I'm on his lap straddling him. His grip on my waist getting tighter and he bounced me up and down continuing to increase his speed making me feel electric. I grabbed onto his hair pulling harder than last time causing him to release a moan. Between my own soft moans I muttered, "I love your moans." only adding fuel to his desire to make me reach climax, increasing his pace even more.

With one hand, he cupped my face and kissed me roughly as I finally reached climax. I let out a loud moan as I released all over him, feeling him release into me seconds later. Nothing but our heavy breathing filling the room. We sat like that for a couple of seconds, catching our breaths. We looked at each other and smiled as I got off of him about to stand before he pulled me back on his lap. I rested my back on his chest, making our sticky, sweaty skin mold us together. He wrapped his arounds around my waist, kissing the back of my head, breathing heavy on my neck. "I love you, princess."

---

A/N

woo, steamy stuff... sorry about the pov change, this was suppose to be fluff but it turned into smut somehow, causing me to accidently changed the pov. I hope you enjoyed it!

[sexybritishllama]

okay i've finally sat with my feelings long enough after listening to the finale and now i come to you all with one message: PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SILT VERSES

'what even is that', you might ask, to which i will answer that it is

some of the best fiction i've consumed in recent memory with unbelievably well-written characters and worldbuilding

more specifically: it is a weird fiction and horror-fantasy podcast set in a world where gods are real, gods are everywhere, and they must feed, and they must be fed.

the story starts off following two acolytes of an outlawed god as they set out on a pilgrimage up river, and as the story unfolds you find out more about this world, what it means for a god to be unlawful, what other kind of gods there are out there, the systems that enable all of this, and, most importantly, how people go on living in a world dictated by the hunger of great and powerful things beyond our understanding

i could say more, but i really do think the way the world and plot gets revealed to you as you listen is part of the joy, so i really don't want to spoil much more just please please give it a go because it genuinely blew me away and now i need everyone else to understand

you can listen on their website here, but also on apple or spotify or any of those other places people listen to podcasts

have issues processing audio stuff or just don't like listening to narrative podcasts? good news, they have transcripts for all their episodes too, which have their own delightful appeal in the parentheticals and stage directions

other random points:

it is a FINISHED story, it has 3 seasons with 46 episodes (which is really digestible compared to other podcasts that i can appreciate have an overwhelming number of hours in them)

it honestly feels reductive to even bring it up but it's worth mentioning that cast is full of queer characters, but that's also like, the least interesting thing about any of them because they have SO much else going on

we've got found family (derogatory)

we've got shrimp gods

literally what else could you ask for why are you even still reading this post go listen to/read it NOW

[mrclairdycat]

Jayvik Headcanons! ٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶

(You can use these for your fics, art or whatever, I don't mind! Tell me or tag me if you do though 'cause I'd love to see it/read it.)

Jayce is naturally good with kids. Viktor is awkward with them, but for some reason the kids love him. They often want touch or try his cane or ask curious questions and their parents deem it as disrespectful, but he always assures them they can and gladly lets them. He also loves to say playful lies like "Actually don't tell anybody this but I've acquired the powers to teleport. I just have to act like a normal human being among the public." Or, better yet, he tells them he's actually an alien. HOWEVER... Viktor hates newborns. He hates when he's forced to cradle them in his arms. Too much slobber, shit and vomit. You can't even talk to them and know there's some kind of understanding between you and them. Jayce, on the other hand, could have a baby shart in his arms and still be like "awww!" He also loves to play with them theatrically.

Viktor is a HUGE Doctor Who fan. It's basically all he ever watches. Jayce is more of a Holiday Movies guy or series with Comedy, Romance or both, especially soap operas, but he was once forced to watched Doctor Who and now he's hooked too.

Jayce is the only one who finds Viktor's dry and dark humor, especially directed at himself, funny. He finds it so refreshing since posh people's humor is extremely boring. Plus, he understands that Viktor would prefer making light of his bad situation to cope and it's not his place to tell him what to joke and not joke about.

Although they mostly lock in and work hard all night in the lab, the sleep deprivation makes them find ANYTHING funny. Sometimes they end up in an endless loop of laughing fits because both of them are so sleep deprived they can't properly say words anymore.

Speaking of, they probably share all their deepest secrets on a whim but don't remember anything the next day, as if they were totally drunk or something.

Also, they cover each other up if they find one of them has fallen asleep. Often times, however, Viktor finds himself magically spawning in his bed. He never thought much about it, figuring he was so exhausted he probably doesn't remember going home, when in reality it was Jayce that carried him home to make sure his body wouldn't be in pain in the morning.

When Viktor is mad at Jayce he abuses that disabled card. Sometimes he publically humiliates him by pretending he's a bad person that doesn't help his disabled friend with anything. In reality, if he tried to pick something that fell for him, he would be met with the smack of his cane.

Speaking of, acts of service is Jayce's way of flirting. He's an extrovert, but he's not confident at all. He never says his feelings first, just acts especially nice towards someone with numerous gifts, praise and help. Viktor thought he was just being ableist.

Again, speaking of, Viktor is more of a words of affirmation guy. However, when they got together, they have scheduled days within the week where Viktor HAS to accept help and be spoiled. He knows its Jayce's love language by now, so, even if he finds it condescending, he's happy to let him have those days to let it all out.

Sometimes Jayce presents Viktor a complex equation because he loves seeing him explain how to solve it. He just loves listening to him yap.

Viktor has a secret passion for astronomy. Can name you every star. Jayce has a secret passion for birdwatching. Can name you every bird. He'd also love falconry. Tbh he adores animals in general.

Viktor despises Astrology. Jayce loves it. He likes to piss him off by saying "You're acting like your sign right now."

Jayce loves pop and reggaeton, meanwhile Viktor thinks classical music is superior to anything else. He especially listens to it because it is scientifically proven it helps with focus. He hates when he wakes up in the morning to him cleaning and blasting El Taxi or something.

Viktor also loves theatre musicals. His favorites are Ride the Cyclone, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. He also loves plays like Hamlet or live orchestras.

Jayce is very good at cooking thanks to his mom's teachings. Plus he just really enjoys it. Viktor is the type who finds it a chore and eats only because he has to (he doesn't even do that most days). Jayce often brings extra food when he packs lunch so Viktor can have some too :) he also loves to cook for him.

Jayce is naturally good at dancing. Adores Just Dance and group dances (Viktor always wins Just Dance without even moving his legs). Viktor is naturally good at playing instruments. He likes to focus on what his hands can do so he can feel better about his bad leg.

Jayce loves head massages and scritches. He's a sucker for physical touch. Viktor likes to give him that while he's reading notes or a book.

Jayce is a dog person who has no problems with cats. Viktor is a cat person who kinda hates dogs since they drool all over the place and lick his face.

Viktor never cries, but when he does it's GUT wrenching because of all the bottled up emotions. Jayce, on the other hand, cries for absolutely anything, especially movies. He could see a child with their mom on a random stroll and shed tears saying "they're so happy :("

Ximena (Jayce's mom) adores Viktor. He always tells Jayce to invite him over whenever they can so he can spend less time alone and even encourages him to sleep over. She just can't bare the thought of someone's baby struggling on their own and not being taken care of.

Jayce mostly overthinks when he's trying to fall asleep. The silence is always broken by him spiraling saying things like "do you think I'm annoying?" simply for a stranger not responding after he complimented them or something. The thought of someone hating him drives him insane. He wants to be liked by everyone. People pleaser core.

[like-tears-in-rain-storms]

Ok just had to share because I've been seeing these people all around and yet it had never happened directly to me.

So, great review of Nosferatu, and I get into A Situation with a person claiming that Orlok is a psychic pdfile rapist of child-Ellen and what's more, the covenant he tricked her into making with him symbolizes a marriage contract,thus Ellen is the analogue of a child bride and a denunciation of the buying and selling of women as brides through history and during that period in particular - also class analysis of how he's a parasite that sucks people dry, yadda yadda, we all know the class analysis. Now that's certainly....a take, and tbh I can see some elements of it sleekly fitting in with the way Eggers structures his themes, but to treat it so absolutely as THE explanation of such an intricate narrative....yeah. I had some issues with that.

And the whole affair ends with that person telling me verbatim, I kid you not, "you should examine why it is that you have a romantic reading on such an one-sided relationship between an undead rapist killer and his teenage victim".

And I'm like....what is this supposed to be? An own? Is it supposed to make me stop dead on my tracks and go "oh yeesh. Why am I romanticizing the goddamn gothic romance????? Am I some kind of monster? A ticking time bomb who'll listen tomorrow about a teen grooming victim of some degenerate and go "yeah but consider that she might have called on him on her dreams to liberate her and spread Covid around"???

To make a long story short, that passive-aggressive urge to self-psychologize with the hint that there's something wrong with myself did absolutely nothing to me,and I can explain it already as I did.

I had a romantic reading because I like gothic romance.

That's it, that's all the answer needed.

But I'm feeling rambly, so I'll elaborate. Because I like sounding the depths of the human mind and will and I like imagining it against powers that defy human measures. Because I like to imagine human nature as a universe, full of it's own destructive phenomena, natural disasters, secret cave systems and toxic geysers. Because in fiction I am free to do so, and can taste flavors that I would never seek out in the real world, like the vertigo of fulfilling the need for self-destruction, or the grandeur of being worth more than the entire world to someone, and what's more, I can acknowledge they exist, and can safely follow them to their logical limits from behind the safety of a book cover. Because on the page we can live out what can't be lived out in the real world even if we tried and because "some things belong on the page, others in life, and it's a blessed fool who can't tell the difference" and I don't know how others see themselves, but I am neither blessed nor a fool.

So needless to say, that wasn't the one it was probably intended as. Really interesting, though, to see such limited-minded puritanism take the stand on the event of Nosferatu coming out. Really interesting how, somehow, they are sounding more and more like crusaders of moral purity for the easily-deceived masses, only now dressed in some righteous "anti-abuse" garb, like abuse in the world will be affected if someone on the internet says that maybe the devouring embodiment of darkness that was rotting alive in the movie had some lasting and fatal effect on Ellen, and it didn't have to be love for it to be defining.

The real question is, why when your limit is the sky and you can make playgrounds out of your mind, do people feel the need to bring everything down to the unromantic, pedestrian and depressive reality that surrounds us whether we want it or not? As far as passive-aggressive urges for self-reflection go, I think that's a much more potentially productive one.

[feyshed]

Proud to be the nr. 1 listener of hungry hermits 💪💪

The songs are such a vibe and so groovy, more people need to listen to them

[damnbluewires]

She set up her instruments for a routine autopsy, and realized she has run out of gloves. Having no one else in the facility to fetch them for her, she headed out to the supply closet down the corridor. The lights were muted, but she liked it that way, being used to stay overtime. The work was indeed grueling and demanding, but this, staying this late, was out of her own volition. Not to be a walking stereotype, but she much preferred the company of the cold, dead cadavers to the company of her cold, and emotionally as good as dead coworkers.

Not mentioning, that the cadavers were far better conversationalists as well.

She didn't choose the profession because of her gift, it was more like the gift chose her because of her profession. Yeah, that didn't make sense to her either.

All she knew is that one day she was opening up some old man's chest cavity to investigate the potential cause of death, and the bastard started hitting on her.

She had nerves of steel, never even as much as grimaced during all of her training, despite how bad the smell was, but this, she must admit, made her yelp and stumble onto her metal tray. She eventually was just glad nobody was there to make fun of her. Apart from the man with a scalpel still poking out of his ribs.

She learned that day, that sometimes she can see the corpses rise from the dead, for exactly ten minutes, before collapsing back, that time for good. What surprised her more, was that most of the people who were brought to her morgue were already more or less prepared to die, so they were just glad to have one last opportunity to have a chat with her.

She adjusted to that new aspect of her job rather quickly, never once thinking of quitting. She would stitch some poor sod's guts back into their body, while talking to the other next in line, about nothing in particular. She would listen to odd stories, treasured memories, and what it felt like to die. It was rather nice, all things considered.

She mused on that, as she grabbed a new box of gloves from the supply and headed back.

The one she had today was some bloke they found in the alley in a pool of blood. What was odd, is that he had no injuries on him. She would have to ask about that.

She put the gloves on, rechecked the instruments, took a scalpel, and started to feel for the right muscle to open the chest from, with practiced grace. When she found the right spot, she began the incision, and heard an inquisitive and amused: "Not even going to buy me a drink first?"

"I don't drink, thanks. Half a year sober." She answered, unfazed as ever. She wanted to continue the cut, but realized it's probably impolite to do so, and raised her eyes at the man, who was dead silent.

He was quiet for a while, and then uncertainly mumbled: "…Congratulations?"

She smiled at him, "Thanks! It has been hard to resist drinking something you know you shouldn't, but it just felt so damn good. You know?"

"I might be aware of the feeling, yes… But, hold on, why am I the stunned one? Why are you not running away, screaming?"

"And miss all the fun? Plus, that honestly sounds exhausting, and I have some more people after you, so I'd rather not waste that energy." She rationalized, while the man tried to collect himself. What the fuck?

"Right. Because the corpses coming to life is just another Tuesday for you."

"It's Wednesday, actually," she beamed again. "But, yeah! Pretty much." Is this hell? Was he finally in hell?

"Are you a demon of some sort?" There was no other explanation.

"Aw, flattery? And who was asking about a drink first?" Yeah. Hell. Most definitely.

"But, no, just your average clerk. Say, how did you end up in that alley? I've been dying to know." That's it. He had to get out of there.

"I have to get out of here."

"Oh, no, you don't. I don't need another runner, thank you very much."

He swooped off the metal bed and bolted to the door. Which was locked.

"Look, I know you are confused, I shouldn't have started with the jokes, but I really need you to go back to the bed. You will collapse somewhere on the street in less than ten minutes, and I really don't need another cop on my ass."

He paused his attempts to get the door open. "You have a cop on your ass?"

"Had one in my ass also, but that was long ago."

He slowly turned at that, and stared at the mortician, who was still just sitting idly on her stool with an innocent smile.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you will be dead again soon, and won't be able to tell anyone."

"I have been dead for a while now."

"Oh, really? Would love to know about that, if you come back and sit down. I'd offer you a coffee, but I will have to be the one to clean up the mess later, and I would honestly rather not."

He did come and sat back down.

"I don't drink coffee anyway." He said, almost to himself.

"What do you usually drink then?"

"Blood of my enemies."

"Ha! And i thought i was the one with dark jokes around here." He didn't say anything to that.

"So, back to my original question, what were you doing in that alley?"

"Drinking the blood of my enemies." He said deadpan.

"I complimented you way too soon, that joke was only funny the first time." She said, and he swears, she almost sounded disappointed. He should not care. He really shouldn't. But…

"You should try it. Tastes better than any alcohol in the world."

"It does sound good, I can't lie. But I bet Becky's blood will be gross no matter how much I hate her. She's on that new 'raw meat' diet. She adds butter to her coffee!" She made a disgusted noise and a face, and his head spinned a little. Must be from the disgust as well. Must be…

"I can understand raw meat, but butter in coffee? Really? Some people just do not care about what they consume, I swear to g-" The word stuck in his throat. He forgot for a second he couldn't say it. But the mortician seemed to not catch that.

"I know, right! But I do prefer my meat cooked. I honestly don't know how I'm not a vegetarian yet. The sight of blood doesn't make me hungry at all."

He quirked his brow at that, "Not even a little bit?"

"Not in the least. Just reminds me of my job. I do love my job, though, comes with its perks."

"Like what?"

"Like talking to you."

She smiled at him yet again, and something warmed inside the place where his heart used to be. But her smile vanished, as she raised her arm to check the clock. The ten minutes must be coming to the end, and she was dreading being in silence again. Alone. Always alone in the end. Only these rare moments of genuinely nice company is all she ha-. She froze. Twelve full minutes have passed.

It was the man's turn to smile at her confusion.

"What's wrong, doc? Forgot to put in the time of death?" He seemed to be amused all over again. "You are a bit too late for that. About two centuries too late."

She looked up at him, for once lost for words.

"I told you I was dead for a while now."

"So, in the alley…"

"Yes, I was actually drinking the blood of my enemies. And it did have a strange aftertaste. Maybe that horrid diet trend is spreading." He mused.

"You are not a ghost?"

"Ghost?! I am deeply wounded by that assumption. I am something much better than a mere ghost." He lowered his voice seductively. "I am a vampire."

She blinked. "…Like in twilight?"

"Oh for fucks- Why is that the first thing people think about? There was not a single vampire in that whole production."

"There are vampires in movie production?"

"In good movie production - yes."

"I have so many questions."

"So how about that drink? Bubble tea sounds good? There is a good place just across the road, and it is still open, I know the owner. Meet you there in ten." And with that, he winked, transformed into a bat, and flew out the window.

She sat there for a while. And then snickered, starting to get ready.

"Curiouser and curiouser…"

okay I had a BRILLIANTLY UNHINGED story idea for someone to write

a mortician has the magical ability to speak with the dead so she doesn't realize anything is unusual when one of her corpses sits up and starts sassing her

only to discover that her conversationalist is actually a vampire

and said vampire very confused about why the mortician isn't freaking out, normally this prank gets 'em every time

[aishangotome]

[Azel] The Mean Unicorn's Greedy Desire (Bday Story) - Let Me Tell You a Secret About God - His POV

Part 3

Gods are supposed to know everything.

That's what people tend to think, but it's not true.

Silvio: Huh? You don't even know how to celebrate a normal birthday?

A few years ago, Prince Silvio, who had come all the way to Tanzanite for a business discussion, was astonished.

He was so different from the person who had been engaged in a heated debate about new shipping routes just a few minutes ago.

Azel: Unfortunately not. For me, a birthday is a matter of state.

Azel: As a god, I don't celebrate others either. My blessings are a bit heavy for ordinary people.

Silvio: Certainly, considerin' your position, it's not strange...

Silvio: You have expertise in all sorts of fields, enough for me to come all the way here, yet you're ignorant of common sense.

Azel: I have to admit, I'm not interested in it either.

Silvio: Then why did you ask 'bout "how ordinary people celebrate birthdays"?

Azel: No particular reason.

Silvio: You don't wannna say?

Azel: Well, I heard that it's your birthday, Prince Silvio.

Azel: I'm not one to celebrate others, but I should try to win your favor, shouldn't I?

Azel: If I miss a big money opportunity, the name of god will be ruined.

There was no profound reason why he was interested.

He had just "seen" a birthday in a dream the other day.

The way they celebrated and their attitude towards birthdays were completely different from what he knew, and it was just a trivial matter that he brought up in casual conversation to correct the discrepancy in his knowledge.

Silvio: ...Well, whatever. Generally, people celebrate with a birthday cake and presents, don't they?

Silvio: In Benitoite, we add alcohol to that.

Azel: A birthday cake... such a thing exists.

Silvio: They have them in Tanzanite too, right?

Azel: They might, but I've never peeked into an ordinary household's celebration.

Azel: The birthday I know is about listening to people's prayers, giving them blessings, and receiving fine wine and food in return.

Azel: It's just a ritual.

Silvio: ...Somehow...

Silvio: For the first time ever, I feel sorry for ya.

Azel: If you feel sorry for me, please donate money.

Silvio: I'll give ya as much as you want dependin' on your "divination."

(Birthday cake...)

(...I wonder what it's like.)

-

The Apostle: Living God, on this momentous day, I offer my heartfelt gratitude on behalf of the people of Tanzanite.

The Apostle: Blessings to you, who were sent from the moon. May our country's path be blessed with prosperity.

---Several years later, the annual ritual celebrating the god's birth was held as usual.

(...This is so tedious.)

It was a monotonous job, simply looking down at the old man kneeling before the god sitting on the throne.

The king and officials in important positions were standing around, offering prayers to the god with almost comical earnestness and sincerity.

I stifled a yawn behind my pasted-on smile and glanced at the tightly closed screen.

(Is she not here yet?)

-

---A few hours earlier.

Emma: ...What kind of ritual is it that you have after this?

Azel: It's nothing much. It's a simple job where I just have to receive congratulatory words in the throne room.

Emma: ...You have work to do on your birthday?

Azel: That's right. Isn't it pitiful?

The girl from Rhodolite, who had come from a foreign land, furrowed her brows as she measured the ingredients she would probably use for the birthday cake, either unconsciously or intentionally.

Her face, which seemed to say "working on your birthday is unthinkable," probably showed sympathy, just like Prince Silvio.

It was only recently that I learned this was a normal reaction.

(She's a typical do-gooder. I almost feel sorry for her.)

When I ran into her in the city, while I thought I had been found by a troublesome woman, what came to mind was the conversation I had with Prince Silvio a few years ago.

I thought that if it was her, with her ability to judge things with an unbiased perspective, she might be able to let me experience an "ordinary birthday," something I had been curious about...

That thought, and stopping her, was the beginning of it all.

(Good people are good targets in every sense of the word. Poor thing.)

Azel: By the way, the pitiful story continues. There's a party to worship me after the ritual.

Azel: People try to praise me with good intentions and entertain me with fine wine and food, but it's troublesome—no, it's too much for me.

Azel: I'd love to refuse, but it's my birthday, so unless there's a very good reason, people won't let me off the hook.

Azel: Oh, I wish there was a kind-hearted soul somewhere.

Azel: If there was a woman with the most beautiful heart in the small country, she would surely extend a merciful hand to this poor god––

Emma: ...If I get you out of there, will it repay all of today's unreasonable debts?

Azel: Yes, thank you very much.

(See? This is how you get used again.)

The girl from the foreign land makes no attempt to hide her reluctant expression.

In front of the god, even tourists from other countries tend to show reverence and fear the mystery, but she doesn't.

What is reflected in her clear eyes, seemingly untouched by any impurity, is not the god sitting on the ceiling, but a wicked "person."

(There are others like her who are disrespectful, but I still like it. I like that I can act as I please around her.)

Azel: But you agreed more readily than I expected?

Emma: ...Because it's strange, isn't it?

Emma: Why does the birthday person have to do things they don't want to do on their birthday?

Azel: ...........

(I see, that's also "common sense," huh?)

(Birthdays are a day when selfish behavior is allowed, not devotion.)

(It's quite different from my common sense.)

The girl bows her head as if she has come to her senses.

Perhaps she's dutifully thinking that she "denied Tanzanite's culture."

(I don't care about that.)

Emma: I apologize––

Azel: You... do you enjoy it when your own birthday comes around?

I ask to correct the distortion in my perception.

Emma: ...Yes, I enjoy it. My friends celebrate with me every year.

(...Ah, I can picture it.)

Azel: So that's how it is.

Emma: Yes, that's how it is.

(I envy her.)

The conversation comes to a pause, and the girl continues making the birthday cake.

I can't help but follow her movements with my eyes, probably because I'm looking forward to it, unlike my usual self.

(...This year's birthday will be––)

-

Emma: Excuse me, Living God.

Just as I finished the congratulatory address and was about to be escorted to the banquet, the screen opened.

It seemed the girl with the most beautiful heart in the small country couldn't abandon the poor god after all.

I raise a hand to stop the attending soldier who tries to intervene.

Azel: It seems there has been a development with the matter I asked you to look into?

I beckon her to come closer to the throne.

The path surrounded by the country's dignitaries, such as the king and the apostle, must be quite intimidating for a commoner.

But the girl never lowered her gaze.

With a strong gaze and a dignified expression, she walks forward with confidence, so as not to arouse suspicion from those around her.

(What an impressive woman.)

I signal with my finger for the woman in front of me to lean closer to my ear.

She seems to be quick-witted, as she immediately moves close enough that no one else can hear us.

Azel: ...I haven't thought about what happens after this.

Emma: You mean you couldn't come up with anything?

Azel: Your face is known throughout the castle, so you can't disguise yourself as a maid.

Azel: Then what excuse could a mere traveling merchant have to summon the god? That's right, there is none.

Emma: ...You asked me to do this knowing all that?

Azel: Exactly.

(She's not stupid either... Well, I guess the woman who was appointed as Belle couldn't be incompetent.)

With the smile I reluctantly learned in my childhood, I look around again.

Azel: I apologize. I saw a sign of disaster and had her investigate it, but it seems I was right.

Azel: I want to return to the temple quickly and perform a divination, so I'll have to decline the banquet.

Enis: Disaster? Then, should we send soldiers...?

Azel: Her assistance alone is enough.

I rise from the throne and place a hand on the woman's shoulder.

What I felt was a tremor from her nervousness.

(...She really is something.)

Azel: It's rare for me to keep a woman by my side, isn't it? Are you sure you want to interfere with such a rare opportunity?

Enis: ...Well...

The Apostle: Enis, follow the Living God's wishes.

Enis: ...Understood. I pray for your safety.

The sight of all the dignitaries kneeling on the floor at once is comical no matter how many times I see it, and I quickly leave the throne room before a genuine laugh escapes me.

-

Emma: As expected, Prince Azel is silver-tongued. Just like a swindler.

Azel: You're quite the smooth talker yourself, aren't you? It's fine to hold a grudge, but don't forget there's such a thing as slander.

Having finally reached a place where there were no people, the woman seemed to be able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Azel: ...To be honest, I thought you would run away again.

Emma: If you're talking about this afternoon, I did come back properly after running away.

Azel: There's no guarantee that will happen next time, is there?

Emma: I keep my promises. Besides...

Emma: I've decided to celebrate Prince Azel properly today.

(...Even though she had no intention of celebrating when we met by chance.)

(I don't know what kind of change of heart she had...)

(But, thanks to your spirit, the birthday cake I ate for the first time was delicious.)

*flashback to earlier*

Emma: It's done! Birthday Special: Rose-patterned Fruit Tart!

Emma: I got a little carried away and made two cakes instead of one...

Emma: But it's surely just right for a hungry Prince Azel, right?

Emma: Once again, happy birthday!

*back to present*

(...That was the first time I've ever been celebrated like that.)

I learn another ordinary thing, and my divinity is chipped away.

That's more comfortable than anything.

(I'm satisfied. It would be fine to part now, but...)

Seeing the fatigue seeping into the woman's smile, I sigh.

(...I can't just give her nothing in return.)

-

There aren't many things that come to mind as a reward.

I don't know and am not interested in the preferences of a woman from a foreign country... especially one I've just met.

But I do know one thing, the best reward a god can give to a mortal.

Azel: This is far enough.

Emma: What...?

I brought her to this deserted oasis because if anyone saw us, it would cause a huge commotion.

What I'm about to give her is something that is extremely valuable to the people of Tanzanite.

(...Though I've never given it to anyone before.)

I turn to face the woman who bumped into my back when I suddenly stopped.

I brush aside her bangs and, recalling a document I read long ago, lightly kiss her forehead.

(...)

(...I'm starting to regret this now.)

The woman is dumbfounded, moving her mouth open and closed with a silly expression.

But I feel like I've done something just as foolish and stupid, and I forcibly push down the intense shame rising within me behind a smile.

Azel: The god of Tanzanite is a being who protects and guides all people equally.

Azel: Protecting the country in this wasteland is the very meaning of my existence...

Azel: It's normally unthinkable for me to favor an individual, especially a girl from a foreign land.

Azel: But, yes, just for today...

Azel: It wouldn't be bad to lavish blessings as a special service only to those who have offered their congratulations.

According to one theory, those who receive a god's blessing are guaranteed a life free from illness and disaster.

I think it's a ridiculous story, but as far as I can tell from reading all sorts of documents, it seems to be true. I think it's a matter of probability, but there's no evidence to deny the blessing.

(Though I don't understand why this is how the blessing is given...)

It's not that I believe in unrealistic things.

I just thought that the woman who gave me a human celebration deserved such a mystical blessing.

(But this is awkward.)

(Incredibly awkward.)

Because of the bright moon, I can see the woman's flushed cheeks.

It's unbearably embarrassing.

Azel: Well, it doesn't come cheap.

Emma: There's a fee!?

Azel: Of course.

Emma: That's a scam...

Azel: A complaint? You've got guts. It's amusing to criticize a god's blessing.

Emma: .......

As I rattle off a series of words, the woman suddenly bursts into laughter.

Her idiotic expression from a moment ago completely changes, and she starts making an infuriatingly smug face.

Azel: ...What is it?

Emma: Nothing, it's nothing.

(...Damn it...)

(Oh, I know, I know. If I can see your expression...)

(That means you can see mine too, right?)

My shame finally reaches its limit, and I force a smile, though I'm irritated––

Azel: Stop that face.

Emma: Ow, that hurts...!

Even though I pull on her soft cheeks, the smugness doesn't disappear from the woman's face.

That only fuels the heat that won't go away.

Azel: The god will never protect you again. Goodbye.

When I turn my back and try to escape, she immediately grabs my sleeve.

Emma: Please don't say goodbye! I was happy!

Emma: It means that my cake was worthy of a blessing, that it was that much of a celebration for you.

Emma: That blessing just now, was it a thank you for the birthday cake?

(It is... it is, but...)

I put strength into the fingers I place on her cheek again.

Azel: ...That's kind of annoying.

Emma: Ow, that hurts!?

Azel: You're seriously misunderstanding. It's not like I want to thank you.

Azel: I just thought I'd add to your debt since I had the chance.

(No...)

(...Making excuses like an idiot will only make me feel more pathetic.)

I can't even look the woman in the eye anymore.

Emma: ...I-I understand.

Emma: I'll... I'll pretend that's what it is.

Azel: You don't understand at all.

Perhaps I've tormented her cheeks too much, as the woman shows a sign of resistance.

I loosen my grip, but I'm still not satisfied.

Azel: You disrespectful person.

Emma: ...S-Sorry?

Azel: Don't make it a question.

(...Calm down.)

(I'm a grown man. I don't want to be any more pathetic than this.)

(Just be honest. It's a simple task.)

Azel: It's not a thank you, but... it wasn't bad.

Azel: You're the only one who would dare celebrate a god's birthday as a human.

Azel: ...You're the only one, unique to me.

(...)

(...I can't thank her with words after all. Let's part ways.)

I let go of her cheek and turn my back on her for real this time.

Emma: I was also happy to make an important discovery today.

Azel: Doesn't sound worth hearing. Goodbye.

Emma: Prince Azel is actually shy--

(Damn it!)

Emma: Ow! Ow, ow, ow!

Hearing such an outrageous insult, I couldn't help but pull on her cheek.

Azel: Say that again. I'll sue you for insult and throw in a divine punishment as a bonus.

Emma: That's not fair...!

(It can't be helped.)

*flashback to earlier*

Emma: I wasn't trying to feed it to you!

Azel: Well, don't do anything confusing.

Emma: ...Eh?

Azel: ...?

Emma: Did you really misunderstand that?

Azel: I didn't misunderstand. You looked like you wanted to feed me, so I reluctantly played along. For a fee.

Emma: A fee!?

Azel: I need more apples. Offer more. Then I'll waive the feeding fee.

Emma: Please hold the fork properly this time.

Azel: ...Shut up. This is my first time doing this.

*back to present*

Azel: Let me tell you a secret about god.

I raise the corners of my mouth as I pinch her cheek.

Azel: I'm petty.

Emma: That's not a secret!

(It is a secret.)

(...It's only with you that I become this petty.)

.

.

.

FIN

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[vaguely-concerned]

I was going to have rye maaaybe start to buy into solas' whole johnny silverhand deal a little bit more in the post-weisshaupt talk -- to Progress the Arc tm/set up the beginning softening in that relationship and heighten the effect when it eventually goes. quite another way entirely -- but the sheer spectacular cruelty in hindsight of 'at least you still have varric to talk to' is such that considering where I'm intending to end up with this narratively, the stoic 'not here to make friends you fucker gimme your intel' option is simply irresistible. gotta have that echo rattling around rye's head forever when he decides that you know what? I have had enough of being nice, actually. I do want to go ape shit. someone hold my coat for me please I have some work to do and I don't want to stain it. guess for now the ol' watcher training & instincts are still kicking in enough for them to treat solas like a tricky spirit you should treat with respect and good intentions, but also shouldn't be out there offering little fingers to unless you have a whole arm lying around to spare haha

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

I'm starting Mission to Zyxx Season 5 now, and I have feelings about that.

First, it generally scares me when people hype anything up at all because there is no guarantee that anyone values the exact same thing I do to the same degree. Even if I trust the creators of a thing to value something and try to do right by it, that doesn't always necessarily mean it will be successful, especially if that involves doing something wildly different than what made it good in the first place (I have been burned this way before). I guess I'm just hoping they continue the format of goofy improv shenanigans for the majority of it with something more planned and emotional in the finale if they want, like they've been doing all along. I'd think they would, and I've heard nothing bad about the ending, but I guess it still makes me nervous because I'm so close to the end and I want it so badly to stick the landing. I'm setting my expectations on the floor so I can be surprised instead of disappointed, but honestly, I don't need it to be better, I just need it to be on par with the rest.

Second, and more briefly, I'm happy it's (hopefully) ending before it has a chance to decline. I am so on board with that philosophy. But on the other hand, finishing a thing that I really, really like and knowing there's not another one out there gives me a special kind of heartache. Like, I know there will be other good media, and stuff that's good and unique in other ways, but I know for a fact that there are no other podcasts out there that have the same mix of a balance of off-the-wall improv and structured narrative, quality comedy, fantastical sci-fi setting and loveable characters, and high quality production. There are other things out there with many of those qualities, but nothing that checks every one of those boxes. It's a lightning-in-a-bottle thing that very much feels like the right people had to be in the right place at the right time to do it. Attempts to do it again would feel hollow because it had to be born out of necessity and passion and the talents of the people involved, so if you switch out the people it loses the reasons it's great, and if the same people tried to do it again it'd feel tired. That makes me so, so grateful it exists, but also so, so sad that it doesn't, and I'm 80% of the way done. When it's over, it's over.

Anyway. Now that that's all out there, I'm just gonna finish listening and have fun. Wish me luck.