i've thought about this a lot and if i had to explain recorded sound to a ghost or a time traveler or an alien i would play them the recording of california song from this tmg show. the quiet simplicity. the person in the audience who shouts "i love you". the way after two lines, john leaves his mic and all you hear is the crowd, but it's small enough that you can pick out individual voices. the person with high voice who hits every note and you can hear their smile. the way the quiet of the first verse turns into a emphatic chant of "i've got joy, joy, joy in my soul tonight". the guy who sings the song the regular way while the rest of the crowd holds a note, and ends up being the only person singing in the audience for a moment. the way the john and the crowd keep singing "you really got a hold on me" until it's just peter's bass and everyone snapping along. the little improvised lines john sings before he says "thank you very much" and the crowd erupts. humanity at its absolute finest for real
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Does anyone else think about this moment?
Like how Luke knows that Alex is stressed and anxious about crossing over, and heartbroken about saying goodbye to Willie.
And Luke also knows that dancing is one of the things that helps Alex relax and makes him happy.
But he doesn’t just tell him to dance because he knows that wouldn’t work, because Alex doesn’t like being told what to do and he really doesn’t like people taking care of him.
Instead he goes, “Alex! No dancing!” because he knows Alex will immediately dance just to spite him and he just want to see his friend be happy.
And the look on his face after, like he’s just so damn proud of himself, just for putting a smile on Alex’s face for a second.
And the way he nudges Reggie, like, “See, I told you so,” makes me think they planned this when they stepped away so Alex could say goodbye to Willie outside.
Anyway. Yeah. I think about it a normal and healthy amount.
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Kinktober/Ghostober 2023 - Day 1 - Tentacles (Dew Solo)
Starting off Kinktober by being two days late! Using the Ghostober prompt list on Ao3 by @kroas-adtam. Probably won't be able to do daily fic for the whole month, and most of these will probably end up being short drabbles, but we'll see what happens.
Day 1: Tentacles (solo Dew, tentacles/Dew)
It’s been years since his transition, but even now Dew still dreams of the water. Some nights, he’s drifting, serene and peaceful, floating in an endless expanse of blue. Calm and quiet and content. Other nights he dreams of the inky black depths, the exhilaration of the dive, to secret, unseen places.
But dreams like these? They’re his favorite. Dreams of a physical connection, a manifestation of the water, of his old element like an ex-lover. In these dreams, the water comes to him as a hulking beast with a hundred arms. Slick tentacles writhing and cool to the touch. Hungry for him.
He welcomes them as they surround him, lift him into the air, cradle his body in their loving embrace. Dew can feel them roaming his burning skin, a cool touch to his ever-raging fire.
In his dream, he can feel them slither, wet and slick, leaving a thick trail of slime across his body. Two to each of his arms, holding him down and forcing his shoulders back, leaving his bare chest exposed for more to crawl across his front, dip into his navel. Two latch on to his nipples with slick, dripping suckers. Sucking and lapping at his chest, leaving him slippery and wet, his nipples puffy and pink and dripping.
In his dream, Dew cries out for more.
They coil around his thighs, pulling tight and spreading him open, holding his legs and always moving, petting at his skin, wrapping around his ankles, tickling the backs of his knees until he’s keening, squirming and writhing in their grip. Begging for more.
Dew opens his mouth, asking to taste. Beckoning with his tongue until he feels the slick tip of a slippery, wet tendril slip past his lips, sliding wet and heavy across his tongue. Dew hollows his cheeks and sucks, relishing the way he feels it fatten up in his mouth, filling him up and stretching his jaw. He greedily swallows the slick that leaks down his throat like a gift. In his dream, Dew can taste the sweetness.
He dreams of more arms, slithering, writhing, and curious, feeling their way across every inch of his body. They coil around his neck, dip into the hollow of his hip, slide down the cleft of his ass, leaving a slick trail in their wake. He moans with relief when they breach him, sliding inside his body with ease. In his dream Dew feels so full, so fulfilled. Another writhes in alongside the first, sliding in and out in tandem, thick and gushing. Dew feels every inch.
More arms feel across his belly, petting up and down the bulge created by the ones in his ass, pushing inside, filling him deep and loving.
In his dream, Dew feels like he’s home.
A third in his ass, swelling up and stretching him open. He’s never felt so full. Like a missing piece slid into the core of him. A thin tendril coils around his cock, squeezing gently across his shaft, playing with the head of him. The tip of it and laps hungrily at his leaking slit. Prods at the opening. Slipping just inside the tip of his dick to jack him off from the inside. Dew wails around the thick arm fucking his mouth as he’s filled from every angle. Pushed closer to release.
When Dew cums, so does the beast, shooting into him at every point they’re joined. Pumping deep inside him, it feels thick and cool. It drips down his thighs, dribbles down his cock. Covers his belly and chest. Best of all, the sweet taste of it fills his mouth. He swallows greedily, thankful for every drop.
In his dream, Dew doesn’t want it to end.
When Dew wakes up, his blankets are soaked. Wet with sweat and cum and slick. Dew wakes up feeling empty. Alone. Body burning too hot and craving the cool touch of the water.
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