#going through the tags on my posts is a rollercoaster of emotions like

[huellitaa]

odd and offputting and pink and pretty 4 life

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Hopefully it’s not too much of an ick for you, but if you’re up to it, would you ever write Ford eating Reader out on their period?

not the disaster you think it is

a/n: hey love, no ofc it's not, im absolutely ok with the whole period thing. i meant to post this a few days ago, but it’s like i forgot how to write or more like i hated every sentence i wrote and couldn’t get past it. anyway, hope this mood leaves me soon. but here we are!! back to Ford being a total freak, as usual, who’s absolutely head over heels for his partner <3 enjoy, i guess?? and thank my period for the delay :/

tags: Ford x reader, nsfw, fluff and smut, gentle sex to rough, emotional rollercoaster for reader, vaginal sex, period sex, oral sex (f receiving), i guess blood play, embarrassment, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, overthinking, established relationship

you think you're about to die of embarrassment, but Ford’s just getting started because sometimes, the worst-case scenario ends up being the best one.

finally, finally you and Ford are alone. do you even remember the last time this happened? no Stan grumbling at the tv, no Dipper hovering around with a thousand questions, no Mabel dragging you away to watch Waddles collapse in the dirt, no Soos excitedly telling you about some strange new creak in the shack’s walls that sounds exactly like a “genuine ghost noise, dude.” no distractions.

what did matter was that you and Stanford were alone, and after the morning you had, there was absolutely no way you weren’t going to fuck the life out of your man.

and god, it’s not like you hadn’t been thinking about it since the second he stepped out of your bedroom looking like that. at first, the missed period had you panicking, your mind spiraling into absolute worst scenarios, but then you chalked it up to stress, shrugged it off, and forgot about it until you saw him. jesus, he didn’t even have to try. you’d made him wear that outfit though, because it was criminal to let him sweat through another goddamn trench coat when summer in gravity falls was like hell had opened its gates and breathed directly onto this weird town, and you weren’t about to let him die of heatstroke just because he was too stubborn to dress appropriately. so you gave him something lighter. and fuck, that was a mistake, because the second you saw him in it, sleeves pushed up, collar slightly undone, his forearms out, his hands, you swore you nearly ovulated again.

but the worst part was when he came running into the shack with those big, dirty, calloused hands holding some kind of tiny, wriggling anomaly he and Dipper had just dug up in the woods, showing it off to everyone like it was nothing, like it wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing you’ve ever seen. all sweaty and flushed from the sun, completely unaware of how fucking delicious he looked, rambling excitedly to Stan, Soos, and Mabel while you had to physically restrain yourself. and you did. you were so good all morning, sitting there, waiting, swallowing down every desperate little urge watching your nerdy man gesturing with those dirty hands as he explained something.

and all you could think was, “i want to eat this man alive.” god, it was unfair how much you wanted him today.

thankfully, Stanley eventually had enough of the science talk. he let out a loud, suffering groan and declared, “that’s it, i’m getting out of here before i have to listen to one more goddamn sentence about anomalous worm lizards or whatever, Soos, Mabel, Dipper, we’re going fishing.”

so of course, there was absolutely no way you weren’t going to take advantage of this moment! it was so rare that you got Ford all to yourself like this that the second the door closed behind Stan, you practically pounced on him.

you had Ford laid out beneath you, his wide back against the mattress, your hands braced on his scarred chest as you rode him like your life depended on it.

and god, you were hungry for it, so desperate. the morning had wound you up so tightly that by the time you finally got him beneath you and finally sank down onto his cock, it felt like release, but still nowhere near enough.

you bounced on him, panting and whimpering, rolling your hips, feeling sweat beading on your skin because it was still summer. and there's no fan strong enough to save either of you. it must be at least 90°F, around 32°C, but it feels even worse and hotter when you have sex. besides, you were the one putting in all the work as your Ford, your good boy, was lying there, being so good for you. looking up at you with little hearts in his eyes, huge hands gripping your waist, trying so hard not to buck up into you too soon because he was such a gentleman even during sex. he wasn’t controlling the pace, you were, and god, he was letting you use him like a toy, groaning so beautifully every time your pussy clenched around him.

yeah, you’d definitely need a cold shower after this, but right now you couldn’t care less. little did you know, though, the shower won’t just be for the sweat.

but that’s a problem for future you.

now, however, your legs start to give out first. despite the pleasure that’s still flooding you in blinding waves, your poor thighs are already trembling and the rhythm getting uneven as you desperately try to keep fucking yourself on him. Ford notices it, even flushed, messy, drowning in you, he watches you like you’re the fucking answer to every equation he's ever scribbled in his journals.

“easy, sweetheart,” he says gently, and then his arms are around you, flipping you over with no effort at all, manhandling you so tenderly. you barely get a second to breathe before he pushes in again from behind and your mouth falls open in a cry. that's deeper. so much deeper like this, and your whole body jolts forward with a ragged moan. “let me take care of you now.”

“Ford, fuck, Ford!” his name spills from you in a gasp just as he starts thrusting, making your toes curl, fingers claw at the sheets, and he just leans over you, grinding into you, murmuring against your ear.

“just like that, you’re doing so good for me,” he groans, kissing your shoulder, “so tight, just keep taking it, beautiful, you’re perfect like this.” Ford rolls his hips, filling you to the brim, keeping you pressed flat against the sheets with nothing to do but take it.

every time he thrusts in, you feel yourself get wetter, making it so easy for him to move and keep grinding into that soft, sensitive spot inside you until you’re crying out, clutching at the pillows. and that’s it. your body breaks as you cum again, shuddering under him as your body jerks with each deep thrust. Ford holds your hips in place while the sheets muffle your screams. he knows your body, god, he knows exactly how to hit those aching spots and how to angle just right, how to drag every last sob and tremble from you until you’re nothing but a pathetic overstimulated mess in his arms. and damn it, Ford loves you like that, clutching at the blankets, so fucked out and trembling, all because of him.

and still, it’s not enough for him. hasn’t been enough all week. you feel it in the way he doesn’t even stop to let you breathe, doesn’t even let you sink down into the afterglow. instead, Ford carefully pulls you onto your back, kissing your jaw and neck, and keeps going, pushing deep into your sore, overstimulated pussy like he’s possessed.

“Ford, s-sensitive, oh god—“

“cant stop,” he pants, hunched over you, sweat dripping down his temple, “just one more. i missed you so much, just let me, i missed you, i missed this,“ he’s so deep again, making your soft walls flutter again, stretched wide around him, and his back, oh fuck, your nails drag down his skin and leave bright red scratches over old scars, painting your love right into his skin as you cry out beneath him.

“so beautiful, darling, so good for me. love you so much, l-love you, mhmm.” Ford's words make you ache in a way you can’t describe and your whole body feel like warm honey, melting under his touch. you pull him closer, wrap your arms around his neck, bury your face against his shoulder as he keeps pounding into you, making love to you like he means it, practically crushing you with his weight.

your thighs tighten where they frame his waist and you're literally clinging to him. his cock slides over your sensitive walls and you still feel so tight, despite how well he worked you open with his fingers before this and the slick mess between your legs. you're drenched, and he knows it by the way his cock nudges inside you so smoothly as you gasp each time he presses flush against your cervix.

“mmh, i love you so damn much, you feel so good, holy moses, taking me so well.” Ford's voice is husky as he kisses you between words, pressing his mouth against your temple, your cheek, your lips and sweet heavens, you’re drowning in it, in him, in the way he praises you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him. and you know you are, because nobody’s ever looked at you the way Ford does.

”fuck, baby—“ you sob, clinging to his shoulders once he finally slows down just enough for your mind to stop spinning. “you looked so fucking hot this morning,” you whimper, biting your lip, “i wanted you, wanted you so bad, you looked so fucking good today, i couldn’t stop staring—“

Ford’s smile is all soft, even as his cock still pulses inside you. “you should’ve told me, gorgeous, m-maybe we’d have done something about it sooner.”

“i couldn’t, there were people, you know we can't when everyone's at home.”

Ford kisses you and whispers against your mouth, continuing moving inside you. “now you can, love, now it’s just us, be as loud as you want, please. . . but so?” he asks again, “tell me, was it the shirt? or the forearms?”

“shut up—shut up—”

“no, no, i’m serious,” he chuckles breathlessly, slightly changing the angle, “you’re adorable when you’re flustered. i wanted you too,” Ford says suddenly, a little softer. “it was horrible not being able to touch you all week. i kept thinking about you, sweet—“

you interrupt him by kissing him for that, you just have to because you can never get enough of his lips. you drag him down into a kiss and breathe him in like you’ll die without it. and Ford groans right into your mouth, he’s louder this time, letting out sharp grunts and drawn-out moans, that gorgeous fucking voice of his breaking with each thrust. you love it. god, you love when he’s vocal, when he lets go and stops trying to hold himself back, when you can hear how good you make him feel and how much he's enjoying this too.

then, Ford's rhythm gets rougher as he straightens his back, holding himself up as he growls out, “sweetheart, can i go rougher?”

you gasp, nodding fast. “Ford, we talked about this, y-you don’t have to ask, just take what you need, please”

“thank you, my love, thank you, you don’t know how much i needed that.” his voice breaks on it, so full of need it makes your pussy throb.

he grabs your waist, lifts you off the bed slightly, holding you there suspended in the air as he slams into your soaked fluttering pussy again and again. and your cunt takes it like she was made for him, squelching wet and hot around his cock as he uses you like a fucking fleshlight, fast enough the bed is creaking beneath you, the headboard knocking.

“Ford— oh, god!” your head tilts back, pleasure spiking, spreading through your whole body. you love this. you love him when he’s this desperate and rough, that means he needed you really damn bad. “yes! oh, my god, yes!” you arch your back automatically, body tensing as he buries himself to the hilt, his cock brushing your cervix over and over, making your thighs spasm and your toes curl. tears suddenly stinging your eyes.

but Ford keeps pounding into you, determined to bring you to your third orgasm now, and it’s all too much, making your clit throb. your brows knit together in that desperate needy expression he lives for, pretty lips parted, chin wet from drool, cheeks flushed and streaked with tears.

“mine, you're mine,” you hear Ford through your own screams and just nod eagerly.

you swear, nothing feels better than Ford's thick cock stretching you like that, fucking into you like crazy, building the sweetest pressure in your gut. filthy sounds echoing off the walls of the room and god, you’re such a mess, sobbing, literally sobbing, with tears leaking down your temples. eyes glossy and unfocused, every inch of your body betrays you, twitching and fluttering around him like you were made to be filled like this.

“so wet for me,” he grits out, “god, listen to you, soaking me.”

you can’t even answer because you’re just moaning as he keeps thrusting roughly and deep into you like you’re just a toy in his hands. his toy. your hands scrabble helplessly at the sheets as your body climbs toward another high.

oh, you think, dazed, this is actually filthy.

you’re wet, too wet. not that it’s ever an issue with Ford because he gets you soaked, dripping and ruined just from his voice alone everyday. the sounds in the room are straight-up filthy, like something out of a fucking porn. slick, lewd noises every time he thrusts in, your cunt welcoming him, spreading your arousal everywhere.

the sheets beneath you are absolutely ruined and your thighs feel sticky and messy.

Ford has to feel it too, how effortlessly he slides in and out, how fucking easy your wet pussy swallows him every time. and he doesn’t stop. your head’s a haze of pleasure, but somewhere, deep in the rational part of your mind, a little warning bell rings and you hate it.

okay, let's think then. you’re wet, and that’s good, but something feels weirdly weird. you feel you're leaking like a damn waterfall, it gets too warm down there too. your moans taper off slightly, not enough for Ford to notice yet, but you’re thinking too much now, caught in a spiral of why is it so much and why does it feel different. your period is one week late. couldn’t be, right? right. . .

just in that moment Ford slides out and you almost yelp from the loss, but he presses the thick head of his cock against your aching clit, rubbing slow, teasing you like he knows you love. you barely suppress a whimper, melting in this feeling, but before he can push back in you open your eyes and whisper.

“Ford, stop.” you feel your stomach twist with nausea before you even look down.

but that makes him freeze immediately. “what? what happened? did i hurt you?” his voice sounds hoarse from all the moans and groans, but concerned still. he sits back on his heels, wide-eyed, hands hovering over your hips.

ignoring his questions and gathering your strength, you look down and there it is.

blood. a lot of it. smeared on his cock, slick on your inner thighs, staining the sheets beneath you.

“oh my god,“ you gasp. no. no, no, no, no. you’re about to fucking die.

Ford follows your gaze, sees the red, and panics. “holy multiverse! are you okay?? did i— was i too rough? fuck, sweetheart, i’m so sorry,“ he looks like he’s about to pass out from guilt, already reaching for you, checking you over like you’re injured.

“no, Ford, it’s not that, i—“ you squeeze your eyes shut, heat crawling up your face. embarrassment punches through you like a fucking bullet. your throat tightens and you barely get the next words out of yourself. “it’s, uh, my period.”

yeah, your period that just ambushed you, right in the middle of the most intense sex you've had in a month, and of course, it would happen now. during the one time you feel gorgeous, needed, good, loved and craved by your man.

silence. fucking silence. your worst fear is coming true now. you can’t even look at him. your hands tremble as you try to close your legs to hide yourself from this fucking shame, but Stanford who's still between them, doesn’t budge.

you’re bracing for it. for disgust, for Ford to pull away, wrinkle his nose and be mad or scold you or run to the shower or something—

“oh. well, that makes sense.”

your eyes snap open. “. . .what?”

Ford’s face softens. “considering the amount of blood that comes out during your period, i'd guess your cycle kicked in just as your uterus was having those strong contractions during climax. its. . . fascinating, really. i mean, maybe the orgasm actually triggered the bleeding? what do you think?“

“Ford, let’s NOT.”

he pauses and smiles. “oh. right. sorry, sorry.”

you exhale shakily, rubbing at your face. “god, this is so embarrassing.”

“why?” Ford frowns.

“why?? Ford, i literally just ruined everything. i got you all dirty and the sheets and— fuck, im so sorry! this is disgusting—“

through all your panicked monologue, you dont even notice Ford looking at you like wants to eat you alive.

your body is still sensitive, but the shame sits heavier than the pleasure now. you don’t even want to look at him. god, you were just bouncing on his cock, losing your mind on him, moaning into the mattress like a fucking animal and now you’re bleeding? how humiliating.

“anyways, this is—“

“not a big deal,” Ford finishes for you. “you're overthinking.”

you glare at him. “of course i'm overthinking, Ford. i just ruined—“

”ruined? is that what you think you did?”

“well, yeah, obviously.”

“sweetheart,” he moves closer, “why do you think that?”

“b-because sex is over now?” you flail an arm vaguely at the mess beneath you. ”we can't just—“

“sex is over?” he interrupts again, tilting his head, genuinely perplexed. because truly, he doesn’t understand the concept.

“uh. yeah. i mean, obviously? normal men wouldn’t want to keep going after.“

Ford’s expression tightens. “‘normal men’? darling, if you wanted a normal man, you wouldn’t be with a virgin who hops dimensions and gets annoyed by bad grammar.”

you stare, feeling the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from sheer humiliation. “so, you’re not mad you mean? or disgusted?”

“honey, there's nothing in your body that could make me mad or disgusted.” Ford huffs, wiping a smudge of blood off your thigh like it’s nothing but a wine spill.

and you want to believe him, you do, but god, your thoughts are spiraling again. he didn’t even get to finish, because you ruined everything. sheets soaked, mood killed, you were so close and now it’s all gone. and all of that is because of you.

“i still ruined it.” you admit and hate how ashamed you sound. “it was so good and now it’s just—“

“but darling,” Ford cuts in. he leans down, kisses your hipbone, tongue brushing so hot and tender it makes you twitch. “who said anything was ruined?”

“i mean, we can’t exactly keep going.”

“but why? who says i was ever going to stop?”

and it hits you. he hasn’t even finished. not once, he’d been so deep in you, feeling your pussy gripping him like a fucking vice that he didn’t even bother to chase his own orgasm.

you gape. “wait. you’re still—“

“hard?” he chuckles. “yes. painfully.”

“and you’re not mad?” you ask the same thing again, confused.

Ford kisses the inside of your knee. “the only thing i’m mad about is that i didn’t get to make you cum with my mouth first. you think I could be satisfied knowing I haven't tasted you yet?”

“wait, wait, wait, im—“ you start to panic when you realize what Ford is hinting at.

but it's too late because he's already gripping your thighs and spreading you open.

“you know we don't have to—“

”yes, we do,” he murmurs, “yes, we absolutely do.”

honestly, if you think Ford’s gonna let a little blood stop him from eating the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen, sweetheart. . .please, you clearly don’t know how fucked in the head this man is for you.

because after a week of not having your body beneath him, this is nothing.

“but—“

“sweetheart, ive been waiting a week. a week. let me take care of you.”

god. this man, fuck. you want to be mad. really, you do. you want to groan, roll your eyes, throw a pillow at him for ruining your chance to bury your shame in silence. but the worst part is that he’s smiling in that awful, devastatingly gentle smile.

and oh fuck, you cry out, trying to twist away because you dont want to make him uncomfortable or anything, but Ford's strong arms are caging you in. “i love this pussy. love how wet you get for me. i don’t care if you’re bleeding, i care that you’re not done yet, sweetheart.”

“you’re insane,” you whisper, biting your lip.

“for you?” Ford grins against your skin, “absolutely.” and then he’s already lowering, teasing at your folds, unbothered by the mess, more turned on by your shuddering and beautiful whimpers. your blood is barely noticeable compared to the way you leak for him, messy and dripping still, your clit so swollen and sensitive, you jerk as soon as he touches it.

Ford's tongue slides against you like velvet, then circles, and flattens.

fuck, he’s good.

he groans when you grind into his mouth, and the sound rumbles right through your gut. your hips buck, and he holds you firm.

shit. you should’ve never taught him. you should’ve kept the knowledge to yourself, never guided his eager mouth and shown him the way your body sang under just the right pressure, never taken his trembling fingers in yours and said “no, baby, slower, feel how sensitive i am here?”

because now, Ford is using it against you.

he starts slow, tracing that familiar path from the crease of your thigh up to your clit, breathing you in like it’s a drug he’s been deprived of.

you want to scream, cry and curl up into nothing and vanish forever, but Ford is licking right over the spot that makes your legs kick, and you swear he smiles when you do. because he knows your body. knows your pulse, rhythm and your shame and he’s pulling it apart with every flick of his fucking tongue.

“so sensitive already,” his breath ghosting over your drenched folds. “you really thought we were done?”

you don’t even know what he’s doing anymore, only that it’s working. it’s so working. too well, in fact, because you’re not even thinking straight, brain full of static and white noise and the obscene sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy like he’s making up for every lost second of the week you went without.

and he has improved. god, he’s weaponized everything you taught him. the way you showed him to suck your clit gently, not too much, just a little pressure like he’s savoring it. . . yeah. he remembers. that damn freak

each groan against your clit is like a vibration in your bones, each sigh filled with hunger and fucking adoration, because you gave this to him. you taught him this. you trusted him to touch you, to taste you, so now you pay for this. your pussy’s so sensitive, sore from earlier, still fluttering and tender, but he doesn’t stop.

“F—Ford, please—“ you don’t even know what you’re begging for. mercy? more? less? it all blends together. hearing your weak voice, Ford smirks against your pussy and then moans as if the taste of your blood and arousal is some forbidden elixir that gets him drunk on you. “s’too good,” you cry out. “how are you this good now? you damn nerd, oh my god—“

you can't finish your sentence because he flattens his tongue and licks again, so slow, making a long drag from your entrance up to your clit that makes your hips jerk and your hands fist the sheets.

and fuck, fuck, he remembers this too, how you explained him how to circle his tongue just beneath the clit too, where your nerves are raw and sensitive, and now he’s there, swirling soft, teasing spirals that make you shudder down to the bone.

and then he sucks your clit deep into his mouth again, groans, sending vibrations through your entire pelvis, making your back arch and your legs twitch around his head.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” Ford's voice all fucked-up and hungry, and god he sounds ruined, “give it to me.”

his thick fingers slide in without resistance, two of them, slow and fucking perfectly angled, crooking just right, the pads of them brushing over your sweetest sensitive spot in lazy pulses. he’s stroking you like he’s trying to coax something out, and you’re so soaked that the sounds are filthy, wet and too obscene.

you whimper, trying to close your legs but his wide shoulders are there, unyielding, pinning you open.

Ford kisses your clit like he’s in love with it, and you feel your orgasm coming like a storm on the horizon, making your thighs shake violently around his head.

but what kills you is knowing that this is your fault because you made him this good. you trained him. shaped him. built him into this monster of a man who eats you out like you’re the center of the universe.

and now he’s fucking feral with it

you cry out, too breathless, feeling your cunt pulsing around his fingers now that he added third one, your clit is so swollen under his mouth. “you’re so perfect,” Ford pants, grinding his mouth into you, his fingers pumping harder now, “god, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? let me have it, sweetheart, give me that pretty orgasm.”

holy shit, you cum so fucking hard your body locks up, hips lifting off the bed, thighs clamping around his head, but that doesn't stop him. not even when you sob and beg, not even when your clit twitches and your hands shake, he’s still licking through it, swallowing you down. your pussy squeezes his fingers and leaks, your whole body folds inward.

but Ford holds you through it, tongue slowing to soft kisses, his fingers gently easing out.

“that’s my girl,” he breathes, smiling silly, chin wet with you.

“never knew you were such a freak, Ford,” you breathe, giggling through your tears, your fingers tightening in his silver hair. “i created a monster.”

Ford looks up, brown eyes glassy. “darling, didn’t you read my journals?”

you laugh breathlessly, still dizzy from your orgasm, but then it falters because your gaze flicks down to the blood. the mess. the ruined sheets and the guilt curling hot and tight in your chest.

“do you still love me?” you ask, unexpectedly even for yourself. “after all this. . . i ruined the bed and—“

Ford's heart breaks at that. he’s kissing your thighs before you can even blink, holding your hips like you’re something fragile. “hey. hey. look at me, sweetheart. you didn’t ruin a thing. you gave me you. and i’ve never wanted anything more. blood, tears, whatever. . . you think any of that changes how much i love you?”

you don't even notice how quickly a smile creeps onto your tear-stained face.

“you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever touched, and i’d ruin a thousand sheets for just one more taste of you.” and that’s what love sounds like in Ford’s voice.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing

Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3

Inspired by my own post

☆☆☆

“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”

Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.

“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.

Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.

He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.

Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?

“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.

“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”

“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.

Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.

“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”

Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.

He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.

That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.

Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.

When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.

But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.

Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.

Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.

But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.

Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.

“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”

Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.

“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”

“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”

“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.

It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.

Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.

“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.

“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”

Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.

“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.

“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.

“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.

He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.

Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.

“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”

“Okay.”

Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.

All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”

“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.

He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”

He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.

He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.

“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.

“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”

Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.

“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”

Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.

“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”

Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.

Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 65

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

No chapter yesterday because I had union meeting things to do in the evening, BUT today I WFH and woke up early to do laundry. It was the perfect time to read a chapter and enjoy some oolong.

This chapter was TOO MUCH.

Let's go chapter 65:

The wind master and I are going through the same thoughts right now. I also immediately thought of the earth masters arrays and began to rethink every scene they were in. p226

Looking back at all of the small details dropped casually is wild. Especially the spy comments between Hua Cheng and He Xuan. p228

Dang, I'm actually so sad that He Xuan kept the real Ming Yi basically the entire time as a prisoner. p229

This balance is intense! Shi Qingxuan having to pretend "ming yi" is their friend while also trying to dodge devious traps. p233

This BBEG battle is a lot! The way He Xuan just snatched the water master's fan like it was nothing! p235

Shi Wudu is finding out. The karma is rebounding today for sure. p237

Okay but I actually agree with Shi Wudu here, the wind master did nothing in this entire situation except exist. Shi Wudu was the one who ruined He Xuan's life. p241

oof. The ultimatums! The choices that He Xuan is giving the bro's is awful. Though the first option left some wiggle room I think. He said anyone in this crowd. I would have chosen to swap with He Xuan; let him have his OG life back. p245

Holy shit what a turn!! Is Shi Wudu about to murder his bro? How did we get here??? p247

WHAT!? WHAT!? HIS HEAD! p250

I see you mxtx. Mhmmm..."tonguing is the fastest way to draw spiritual energy". [side-eyes] p252

Wait a second. Pause everyone. Okay, so. Xie Lian kissed him to get energy for the soul shift. But like, 2 seconds into the attempt, he was like, "yeah I didn't think the shift would work because Shi Qingxuan is dead or mortal now" WHY THE KISS THEN XIE LIAN HMM. p254

I know this is a very serious chapter and incredibly terrible things happened, but also it's a little funny to me that throughout this entire tragedy Pei Ming is jut on the beach doing carpentry. p257

RIP Qi Rong's eyeballs apparently. p259

Xie Lian is so chill about Hua Cheng's involvement. Like, he didn't even blink. just; yeah shit, you are right. Not my business. p260

[Just rests head on the table]

This was too much. I am not so sad about Shi Wudu, that felt like an inevitable end, but I am actually so sad about Shi Qingxuan. I hope at least we get a resolution on that front. Even if it is just us finding out they're dead :((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

I gotta take a walk; a rollercoaster of emotions!

[bisexualiteaa]

Nobody Gets me, You Do

Older!Logan Howlett x Fem Reader (ANGST TO FLUFF)

CW: post Deadpool and Wolverine, breakups, brief mentions of seggs in the past, mentions of alcohol, mention of death, mutual pining, cursing, kissing, angst w/ fluffy ending! Possible spelling and grammar errors

AN: came across this song again after a while of not hearing it and it just all came to me. It came to me very quickly so my apologies if it isn’t up to par with my usual works! 😅 I don’t own the song or characters. If anyone has any requests for our men Logan or Wade, please feel free! My asks are open! Enjoy!! 🥰

The song followed him everywhere since the break up. When he would get in the car, the radio would come on and play it for a few moments before he could switch the station to his usual 80’s rock. When he would come to the bar to drink, it would play at least once per night, making him groan each time he heard it begin to play. Sometimes he would even hear it in the stores he went to, and it pissed him off how much it managed to wedge itself into his brain. It was an ear worm that perfectly managed to place salt on a wound that could never truly heal. Losing you. It was a fitting song he had to admit, recounting the days of when you were together and how you used to cherish every memory and now all he has of you are those memories to look back on. It made his heart wrench in his chest and his throat fill with bile at the thought that he managed to chase you away. The one person who cared for him the most, not only in this time line, but in his previous one too. The only person that brought him a semblance of happiness and he managed to fuck it up completely. He’d come to learn that he was quite good at fucking things up, perhaps it was just the curse he carried with him. He managed to take a healthy relationship, with someone who felt like his most perfect match and fucked it up completely. He hated to admit it, but out of everything, there was one thing the song got right.

“Nobody gets me, you do”

One night he decided enough was enough, the lyrics had been lingering in his mind like a haunting memory. He needed it out, needed to just sit down and fully listen to it so he could rid himself of the sound on repeat. He grabbed his phone, getting lost in the picture of you two together on his lockscreen. You were both so happy then. The way you looked at him with all the love in the world, and the way his hand rested upon your hip that told you he would always keep you safe. The smile that rested on his lips as he looked down at you, it was gorgeous. It wasn’t the best picture, but it was a candid moment Wade managed to capture out on a mission together in the woods. One he’d never forget because it was the last one he’d get with you. Once he could manage to tear his eyes away from the picture, he searched up the song, bracing himself for the emotional rollercoaster that was bound to come with. He gave a deep sigh as he sat up listening to it on the couch, a beer in one hand, looking down at his dog tags that you had given back to him the day you left in the other.

Took a long vacation

No makeup, just Jay-Z

You were balls deep, now we beefin’

Had me butt-naked at the MGM

So wasted screamin’, “Fuck that,”

Love me now, but I’m anythin’

Hurry now, baby, stick it in

‘Fore the memories get to kickin’ in

That portion of the song reminded him of the last time you were intimate together. His mind wandered to the way you both came barreling through your apartment door, so ready to pounce on each other that you could hardly get to the bedroom and decided to do it on your couch. He remembered the giggles of excitement, the gasps, moans and groans as you lost yourselves in one another. He remembered the way that you complained of the pain in your legs and lower back the next day from how long you two stayed up going round for round. He was never very good with intimacy, but with you it felt natural. With you, everything felt natural, everything felt like he was in his own personal heaven.

It’s too late

I don’t wanna lose what’s left of you

How am I supposed to tell ya?

I don’t wanna see you with anyone but me

Nobody gets me like you

How am I supposed to let you go?

Only like myself when I’m with you

Nobody gets me, you do

You do

Nobody gets me, you do

You do

Nobody gets me, you do

You do

Nobody gets me, you do

Those lyrics hit him the hardest, because they were true. He clung to the last little things he had of you, from the still lingering smell of your perfume on some of his shirts, to the pictures he had of you together in his wallet. Even down to the dog tags he held in his hand. You always kept them tucked under your shirt, keeping it “as close to your heart as you kept him” you would always say. The day you handed them back was the day he knew he lost you for good. He hoped that maybe somehow you still had a space left in your heart for him to reside once more, praying someone else hadn’t come along and taken his place. He couldn’t bear the thought of you with someone else, the thought leaving a sour taste in his mouth. You were his girl, he would always see you that way, even if you didn’t want him anymore.

Took me out to the ballet

You proposed, I went on the road

You was feelin’ empty, so you left me

Now I’m stuck dealin’ with a deadbeat

If I’m real, I deserve less

If I was you, I wouldn’t take me back

I pretend when I’m with a man, it’s you

And I know that it’s too late

I don’t wanna lose what’s left of you

This one wasn’t far off, he understood after everything that he said, after the way he treated you if you didn’t want to take him back. He didn’t even like himself, how could he expect someone to love him in such a state? Closing his eyes, he thought back to the times before your break up, allowing the song to finish.

How am I supposed to tell ya?

I don’t wanna see you with anyone but me

Nobody gets me like you

How am I supposed to let you go?

Only like myself when I’m with you

Nobody gets me, you do

You do

Nobody gets me, you do

You do

Nobody gets me, you do

You do

Nobody gets me, you do

Nobody gets me, you do

He released a long shaky breath, feeling his eyes begin to grow wet with tears he hadn’t noticed began to well in his lash line. He tipped his head back after he took a drink of his beer, trying his hardest to fight the tears from escaping but he could only do so much to stop it as the song played on repeat.

“Well, now that’s a sight I never thought I’d see” Wade said, making Logan groan as he took another hefty swig of his drink. “Fuck off” he responded coldly, but of course, this was Wade he was talking to. Things were never that easy with him. “Easy Wolvie, I’m here for you” he said, placing a hand to the man’s shoulder only further agitating Logan as he shrugged it off. “I’m fine” he replied, trying to get him to leave but as usual, his efforts were fruitless. “Yeah, totally. Listening to a sad song on repeat while drinking is exactly the definition I think of when someone says they’re fine” Wade quipped, making him roll his eyes at his sarcasm. “Fuck you” Logan responded, not wanting to put up with his bullshit but lacking the energy to fight back full force. “I still live in my angsty teenage years every now and then, though I didn’t picture this to be the music of choice for you” Wade said. “It’s fuckin’ everywhere. Like I can’t get rid of it. It’s followed me everywhere since…” he started to say before stopping himself, not wanting to share with Wade of all people but he really didn’t have anyone else. “The break up?” Wade asked, making Logan grunt in acknowledgment. “Yeah” he answered.

It happened so long ago now, but he remembered it like it was yesterday, the sour memories of your usually soft, sweet voice screaming at him. The tears that streamed down your face not only from sadness but from anger. It haunted his dreams at night on repeat, hearing those words leave you as you stormed out, and hearing the awful response he only wished he could take back. You had every right to be angry with him, to break up with him like you did. It was his fault after all. He’d left you in one timeline already, dying before you had the chance to even tell him one last goodbye, and then he nearly left you in this one. Sacrificing himself to try and save Wade and his world without a second thought of leaving you behind again. So this time you left him. He couldn’t be mad at you, not when your anger was completely justified. “Want me to invite her over? Give you the chance to talk with her?” Wade asked, genuinely wanting to help. It was a wishful thought, but your relationship didn’t end the way Wade’s did with Vanessa. A simple meet up wouldn’t take back the hurtful words he’d said to you and he knew that. “Even if you did, she wouldn’t want to see me. Not after everything I said that night ” Logan replied, finishing off his beer. “Can’t be that bad! Right…?” Wade asked, making Logan look at him. “Good god man, what did you say?!” He asked, making Logan sigh. “Told her I was just trying to help, but that if she couldn’t handle me and the dangerous shit that comes with me, then to find someone else. You can imagine the rest” he answered, making Wade hiss in pain at the words his roommate said. “Ouch” he commented. “Well…it could still be worth a shot. How long has it been?” He asked. “Eight months, haven’t heard a fuckin’ word from her” Logan replied gruffly. “Double ouch” Wade said, making Logan shoot a glare in his direction. “Oh fuck off. Stupid of me to think you of all people would fucking help” he grumbled angrily. “No, no, no! C’mon you helped me, let me help you. Just trust me and give it a shot” Wade begged him, making him sit and think on it. Or at least pretend to, he didn’t need to think on it, the idea of speaking to you finally after so long left him anxious but he wanted you back so badly. “And if it doesn’t work?” Logan asked gruffly. “You can brutally beat the shit out of me and get black out drunk and forget it even happened” Wade responded, leaving Logan rather skeptical but at least it was worth a try. “Let’s turn off the sad music though, you’re scaring the hoes” Wade joked as he text you and asked you to come over.

When Wade invited you over to his place, Logan could hardly believe that you actually showed up. He figured you would rather be the farthest away that you could possibly get from him after everything that had transpired between you two. Yet there you were, looking as gorgeous as ever. A little tired maybe, like stress had been hounding you for some time, but otherwise you seemed to be doing well. He wished he could say the same about himself but he’d been nothing but a wreck since you left. Your eyes flit across the apartment, subconsciously searching for Logan. You found him in the kitchen, cooking what looked to be his own dinner, seeing as Wade and Althia got high, while drinking a beer, and the sight made your chest grow tight. You missed coming home to see him like that on occasion, missed when he would cook for you, especially on holidays or your anniversary. You thought back to Valentine’s Day when he made you dinner after a rogue mission gone sour, walking into your apartment to the smell of your favorite meal being made after a long and troubling day. You missed coming home to him, sharing your bed with him.

You missed him.

You weren’t sure how to speak to him after everything you’d said, and with the distance between you, you hadn’t spoken to him since the night you left. He could hate you for all you knew. You couldn’t blame him if he did, you’d hate yourself too if you were told the awful things you’d said. You couldn’t help but pray that somewhere deep down in that gruff exterior of his, that maybe he could forgive you. That maybe he would take you back, allow you a chance to apologize and mend what had been broken. The scent of a warm, hand made meal snapped you from your thoughts, filling the air as you bravely stepped into the kitchen. The minute you did, your heart slammed against your chest, unsure of where to go from here. “You came” Logan said, sounding almost surprised to see you here in front of him. You were thankful that he started the conversation for you and spoke first, you felt almost as if all words were trapped in your throat. “You called” you answered surely, looking at him with a kind, almost apologetic smile. “Wasn’t sure if you would” he replied, and it made your heart ache to know you made him feel that way. “I’m here now” you answered softly, your hand coming to rest gently on his upper arm, making him look to you with an expression that held so many emotions you didn’t know which to read first. Tension hung in the air between you as you stood and looked at one another, this was the first time standing before each other in nearly a year. You could see longing in his gaze, sadness in his body language, but an unrelenting passion in his eyes. He looked as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know the words to say it. So this time you spoke for him.

“Smells delicious, I see you’re still a wonderful cook” you complimented with a nostalgic smile, trying to start up a conversation the best you could with him to see where you stand. “Want some?” He asked without hesitation, tilting his head towards the food before grabbing a plate for you. You didn’t even need to answer. Maybe he didn’t hate you like you first thought, maybe this could go well after all. You surely hoped it would at least. “That’s your dinner, I don’t want to take it all. I know how much you love that dish, I don’t want to take it from you” you said, reminding him of all the times you would make sure he ate, always fussing over him. At the time he used to tell you he could take care of himself and that you didn’t need to worry yourself over him but now? He’d give anything to hear your sweet voice beg him to eat, to be safe, and take care of himself again. “There’s plenty, bub. ‘sides, I remember how much you liked it too” he replied, making you smile a little at the fact that he remembered how much you liked his cooking before fixing you a plate and then himself one. God you fucking missed him. “Thank you” you responded as you sat down and ate with him in peaceful silence that was only interrupted by the occasional small talk. A few stories here and there, some shared laughs, all almost felt completely natural again. Like you’d fallen back into your normal routine as if it had never been broken, but you knew the pining glances hadn’t gone unnoticed. You needed to talk with him, really talk with him. You couldn’t go about this life without him anymore.

Some time had passed after you both finished dinner, the tension between you and Logan had dwindled a bit as you both made your way over to the couch but there was still an invisible wedge between you. One you weren’t quite sure how to cross. You watched as Wade picked up a set of keys from the kitchen counter and made way for the door, claiming he and Althia were going to get dinner for themselves. “We’ll leave you two alone, but try not to wreck my apartment if you decide to have messy make up sex, ‘kay?” Wade said, making Logan almost snarl in anger and you even shot him a nasty glance. “Wilson!” Logan barked, sending Wade flying through the door with a giggle to be out of his line of sight and potentially his wrath. “He never was the king of reading a room” you said, making Logan scoff in amusement and agreement before taking a swig of his beer. “I did want to talk to you” you both said simultaneously, making you chuckle before you both stumbled over telling the other to go first. It was like being a teenager in love all over again.

“Logan I-“ “you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. I don’t deserve an apology, not after I hurt you” he said, making you look to him with sympathy in your gaze. You knew that you were hard on him, but you didn’t realize truly how hard you’d been. “But you do” you responded softly grabbing his hand in yours, making him look down at your smaller hand wrapped around his much larger one. “I was selfish to be mad at you. I was selfish and cruel for saying the things that I did. What you did was something beyond heroic, something that I’m sure no one else would have ever even contemplated doing, much less actually have done. You did it because you knew what it was like to lose everyone that ever mattered to you in your timeline, and you didn’t want Wade to have to suffer the same” you added. “I was so blind by the thought of losing you again that I didn’t stop to think what a wonderful thing you’d truly done” you continued, shame lacing your tone as you admitted your wrongs, hoping and praying that he would accept your apology as you presented yourself at the most vulnerable you’d ever been. “I should’ve thought of what I would be leaving behind” he tried to say, and you stopped him before he could finish. “No, you have no need to apologize to me or think that way. I was wrong for treating you as if you’d left me that day, because you didn’t, you’re still here. You’re alive” you replied, your hand coming to rest softly on his cheek as you spoke to him, looking deep into his honey brown eyes that enchanted you since the first day you’d met him. “But I hurt you. I screamed at you, said terrible things that I regret every fuckin’ day. You had every right to walk away” he tried to say but again, you weren’t taking it. “Walking away from you was the worst mistake I have ever made, and I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am for making you feel wrong for trying to help someone in the way you helped Wade and this whole timeline” you replied, seeing what looked to be the starts of tears welling in his lash line as he looked to you while you spoke. “I’m so sorry Logan. And I know those words will never be enough undo the wrong and the hurt that I’ve caused but I hope you know that I mean it” you added, searching his eyes for any means of anger, any means of rejection. Yet you didn’t find it. All you found was longing. “I love you Logan. I love you so fucking much and I’m so fucking sorry” you apologized, hands cupping his face softly and tears welling to your eyes as a sob caught in your throat, praying it wasn’t too late to mend the bond you broke. “I’ve missed you so much…I don’t want to live this life, or any life without you in it. Nobody gets me like you” you spoke, your voice cracking slightly as tears streamed down your face. “I don’t want to lose you…” you whispered repeatedly through your cries, feeling him press his forehead against yours gently. “You won’t. I’m here, I’m right here bub” he said, and it was everything you needed to hear for so long.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere bub, I’m here” he assured, making you pull back enough to gaze into his eyes. “You promise?” You asked through sniffles and hiccups from your cries, searching his eyes for deceit but once again, you found none. “I promise. Missed you too much to ever do that” he said, making you smile the best you could through your tears. “C’mere pretty girl” he said, his large hand pulling you in closer before his lips slotted against your own. You were quick to loop your arms around his neck and keep him close against you as you kissed him back. It was passionate, filled with desire and warmth but intimate all the same. You chased each other’s lips with your own, not caring for the need for air that made your lungs burn from oxygen deprivation, caring more for the way you finally had one another again. Once you did part, you both panted to try and catch your breath, looking to one another as if to ask what next. “Think this belongs to you” he spoke, holding his dog tags out to you, making you chuckle as you looked down at them. “Are you sure?” You asked, but before you could even finish asking, he was already slipping it over your head, admiring the way it dangled from your neck. “Never been more sure” he answered, making you smile as you held it in your hand before kissing him once more. “I don’t deserve you” you said, pressing your forehead against his once more. “No, I don’t deserve you” he said, making you chuckle. “Yet we get each other in every timeline. Funny how that works, isn’t it?” You replied, making him laugh. “Wouldn’t want it any other way” he responded making you hum as you closed your eyes to enjoy the peacefully intimate moment with him. “Good, I don’t wanna see you with anyone but me” you said, making him laugh again at the irony that it was a lyric from the song that haunted him for the past eight months. “Don’t worry, never gonna happen” he responded, and for a moment he understood the perfect response.

“Nobody gets me like you, bub”

[murkycran]

Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Staticmoth Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

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Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.

Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.

Let's Misbehave by joosymango

Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?

Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^

Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?

Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?

[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]

Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!

You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.

Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.

Sequel to Safe with Me.

Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...

You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.

Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.

Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola

After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.

Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!

Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x

Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.

During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.

Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...

But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?

Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)

Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.

Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳

Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.

Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D

Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.

Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.

Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.

Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.

Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.

Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.

Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming

Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.

Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.

Static by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester

Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up

Notes: Very good PWP.

Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts

Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳

Observer by DeviousPossum

Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.

Alastor.

Alastor.

What the fuck. Alastor is singing.

Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.

Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3

RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar

Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.

Sharkblocking by Anonymous

Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.

In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.

Notes: VARK!

Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms

Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.

So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.

... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.

Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀

gift of the magi by vol_ctrl

Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."

Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^

the lost tape by vol_ctrl

Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl

Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.

Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl

Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...

[Stand-alone staticradio]

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD

Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest

Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.

Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.

Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.

Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.

Russian Roulette by spappest

Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.

Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest

Summary: Alastor goes into rut.

Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.

Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.

A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.

Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3

Negotiations by FanGirl48

Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.

But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.

Damnit Valentino!

Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.

Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.

Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.

Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.

Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.

What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344

Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.

When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.

Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^

Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.

Notes: So, so good.

Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.

Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…

Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^

To Be Yours by pinegreenapples

Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.

Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;

oleanders in june by spoondrifts

Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.

If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.

Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.

Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.

equilibrium by curtailed

Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.

Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.

Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.

candlelight by curtailed

Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?

OR

Alastor and Vox play house.

Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol

wallow by curtailed

Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.

Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.

Addicted by Dancingdog

Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.

But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.

His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.

Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.

Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell

Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.

Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.

Uneasy by Saezs

Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”

Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.

Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.

Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)

Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander

Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”

The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.

A voice for radio.

Oh shit.

... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.

From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?

Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃

Days Long Past by Momo52

Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.

While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.

Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.

Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)

Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.

or, alternatively...

The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.

Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol

Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin

Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.

Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".

Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow

Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.

So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.

Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;

Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”

“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”

“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”

OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.

Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss

Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.

But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.

Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.

Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.

surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.

Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.

an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”

“What, so you mean he just up and left?”

“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”

“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.

Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^

we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.

Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.

Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.

What Has Been by Tianren

Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?

Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s

Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.

Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[di-42]

September's Scrumptious Fictions

Another month where I wish I could have read more fictions! But definitely some gems in the ones I did read, among which a couple of stories that touched me at a very a deep level, and I'm so, so glad I read them!

As usual I will tag the writers whose Tumblr usernames i know, so they can know they bring joy to their readers. Hope you enjoy these lovely stories as much as i did! If you do, please, please, please, let the writers know!

WIPs:

Wavelengths & Frequencies by @shadesofecclescakes and imposterssyndrome @maaikeatthefullmoon (Rated E, chapters 9/?)

If you feel like you're going through one of those phases where you need to curl up on a sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and something good to read, something safe and reassuring, then this fantastic fiction is for you. It's a human AU enemies-to-lovers fiction where Aziraphale and Crowley can't stand each other, but work for the same media corporation as radio DJs and have to attend charity events together. The characterisation is spot on and the humour great. And what an incredible soundtrack! I honestly can't tell you how happy each notification of a new chapter of this story makes me!

You're The Bad Guys by Nebz_AlphaCentauri @alphacentaurinebula (Rated E, chapters 12/?)

Cold War human AUs in which Aziraphale is an MI6 agent ans Crowley a KGB agent. They get assigned to the same mission in Berlin in 1981. They're on opposite sides. Great characterisation and suspense! And great nods to canon!

Love Lost Is Sweeter When It's Finally Found... by Hopeless_old_romantic_67 (Rated E, chapters 13/?)

After the Second Coming has been averted God allows Crowley and Aziraphale to live as humans for as many loves as they want, but with no memory of who they really are. Welcome to a Quantum Leap-y fiction, inspired by the video Past Loves by Børns. Unlike me, most of you will probably get all the names refernces!

My own WIP And I Did (Rated E, chapters 9/14)

Post season two fiction featuring Supreme Archangel Aziraphale and Grand Duke of Hell Crowley. Satan tasks Crowley with leading Hell to the End of the World. God tasks Aziraphale with leading Heaven to the End of the World. They both have made their choice and they were never going to make a different one.

Complete works:

Wrong Turn by anticyclone, D20Owlbear (Rated Teen, 37,565 words)

Honestly, I don't know why this fiction touched me so much. I just couldn't stop thinking about it for days after I finished it. It's a post season 1 fiction where Crowley suddenly finds himself in a parallel universe at the time the apocalypse is just about to happen. The Crowley and Aziraphale in that universe have a different history to our Crowley and Aziraphale. All our Crowley wants to do is to go back to his universe and his very own angel, but how? As you follow the main plot and focus on Crowley's thoughts and actions, you'll start slowly feeling the other story get hold of you, and it won't let go until the very end and beyond.

Happiness, More Or Less by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (Rated M, 21,445 words)

If you read only one story out of this list, make it this one. This human AU moved me so very much I cried. Crowley moves into his new flat in Soho, only to discover the flat in haunted by the ghost of the owner of the bookshop downstairs. I won't tell anything else about the plot other than it does have a very sweet happy ending, and it gets there via a rollercoaster of emotions. This is really one of those fictions that leave me in awe of the fandom's talent and creativity. Read it, read it, read it!

Time Marches Forward by @bellisima-writes (Rated M, 129,182 words)

Post season two story with an incredible plot! This story has multiple POVs, including Adam's, who's one of the main characters, and rightly so! Aziraphale is in heaven as supreme archangel, while on earth Adam and Crowley form a very strong bond. We follow their journey in the two years between the end of season two and the second coming. Lots of angst with a very happy ending!

One Shots:

Accidental Sleepover by MetalMiez (Rated Teen, 11,525 words)

Set after season one, this fiction is a sweet account of how Crowley and Aziraphale get to confess their feelings to each other. There are references to season two, but in this what-if universe it never happened.

We Keep Love In A Photograph by @itsscottiesstark (Rated G, 2,066 words)

A very sweet and credible account of what might have happened next on that night in 1941, and what Aziraphale and Crowley's thoughts might have been.

One Perfect Day by PirateFanatic (Rated Teen, 4,821 words)

Canon universe story where Crowley and Aziraphale are safe. In fact, they are about to go to a wedding. As Aziraphale dresses up, Crowley moans that he doesn't want to go, but Aziraphale doesn't give him a choice. And, in the words of the writer, with good reason.

The Bentley And The Pumpkin by graywings @smua70 (Rated G, 1,559 words)

Such an incredibly sweet and fun story, told in the Bentley's POV! The poor car was feeling lonely there in the South Downs, away from the hustle and bustle of London. But not to worry, she'll have her happy ending!

August's list here.

October's list here.

[neuropoppins]

What made you start wanting to advocate for the intersection between both autism and gender?

I’d been in autism spaces online for over a decade and gone through a rollercoaster journey within them. From discovering things about myself and why I function the way I do, and that I’m not a failure or an idiot after all, and that there are others just like me. And importantly - finding language that describes my experiences - this was a game changer! Previously, ppl didn’t connect with my experiences or way of describing my experiences and it left me very isolated. So finding others who share my experiences and could explain them so well was like returning home to a language I should’ve been taught all along. I’d found my tribe! 

I’ve watched the narratives in autism spaces shift many times over the years, I’ve watched autistic people age and grow into themselves and talk about those experiences, I’ve watched “newbies” enter and have their minds blown, I’ve watched autistic youth crying out in desperation, and I’ve watched people be so helpful and understanding with each other in all directions. But, nothing lasts, and I saw the shifts in attitude and the decline of curiosity for one another and the volatile exchanges between members, until eventually we have a fractured ‘community’ that tears each other to shreds often. Identity Politics became huge in autism groups. Language policing, tone policing, thought policing, politics policing. I started to shy away from interacting in the groups bcos of the inevitable backlash for saying something wrong (there was always something wrong). 

Groups started fracturing and making group rules that demanded everyone think the same way or leave the group. More and more topics were off-limits and would result in an immediate ban. Trigger Warnings had to be put on posts. Admins constantly being tagged. Bullying. A victim mentality took over and everything was seen as ableism and hate. (There were also many lovely groups that were managed well, but they were becoming hard to find). 

Slowly, more and more people were identifying as trans in one way or another. They would be showered with praise. I’d always struggled with figuring out “Who I am” too, and felt more comfortable around boys than my fellow girls. I felt that there was something deep within me that made me different to everyone else. I always felt like an alien. Couldn’t make sense of myself and my feelings - sometimes they were quite contradictory! I felt uneasy around most girls and like I didn’t fit in, as my differences from them were stark. I felt more comfortable around boys and felt my differences were less obvious amongst them. I didn’t do ‘girl talk’ and I couldn’t talk about emotions (Alexithymia - difficulty identifying and describing emotions, both in oneself and others, common in autism) so this set me apart in girl groups as I failed these social tests. With boys, there were no social tests, really. So it felt easier and like I was less of a failure. Obviously, I now know it was autism all along. 

Many people, including myself, connected with certain elements of trans - feeling different, feeling alien, feeling something deep inside was wrong, discovering parts of yourself, having “Aha! Moments”, going through your entire history/childhood and piecing things together to build up a picture, not liking social norms and rules, sensory issues with clothes and beauty products, not fitting in with ppl of the same sex, feeling more comfortable with ppl of the opposite sex, being bullied for being different, body discomfort, hating yourself, mind/body disconnect, etc. (Sounds similar to growing up autistic, right?). But now it was being relabelled as a trans experience. I had a number of trans friends myself and didn’t particularly question it. I also didn’t see any harm in it. I understood a lot of their pain as I struggled with many of the same things. I had what I believe was Body Dysmorphia in my teens, but it was never addressed and I suffered in silence. I would obsess over every inch of my body for hours on end in distress. I could not stop. I would focus in on an elbow, a hand, my jaw, my collarbone. I’d stare at a tiny section from as many angles as I could analysing it and tearing myself to shreds in the mirror. 

I hated my body, I was stick thin with no shape, and felt like a skeleton. Being so skinny also made me feel vulnerable and sitting on hard chairs caused me pain bcos of my protruding bones. All the other girls were blossoming into beautiful curved beings. I was just a blank slate stick figure, not yet developed into a real person. So, not only did I not feel I fit in mentally with other girls, I also felt I physically didn’t fit into that group. I never felt like a real girl. Eventually, I began to think I needed to ‘become a girl’ in order to fit in. In my late teens I got a boob job to ‘turn me into a girl’. I felt great for about 2 yrs after it, before everything came crashing down. It had become my obsession and it drove me into surgery, but once the obsession wore off I was left with the realisation that it was nonsense and didn’t fix anything and actually caused problems. I then went in the other direction and pretty much thought of myself as a boy, or at least not a girl anymore - this felt like returning to my roots, but it was just another form of escapism. I’ve written about it more on my blog https://neuropoppins.substack.com/p/undiagnosed-autism-and-gender-distress

Still, none of this really made me question the sudden influx of trans identities en masse - especially in autism spaces. We seemed to be at the centre. It was only a few years ago that I started reading bits of info in the news and seeing the actual scale of what has crept up. I’d been witnessing it for a decade without question. 

I had no one to talk to about the topic as I’m a left-wing, autistic, gender nonconforming woman, in LGBTQ+ circles with trans-identified friends. I read Trans by Helen Joyce and was blown away at how little I’d noticed, even though I was in the thick of it. I started reading more and more about it, from as many sources as I could, from both sides of the debate and I just could not believe the damage I was seeing. To women, to autistic people, to academia, to medicine and healthcare, to laws and policies, to society. It was unbelievable. 

I started to ask the odd innocent question in autism groups and would immediately get dog-piled, bullied, told I was part of the problem, then banned and blocked. I realised no one can talk about it. The policing that had swept into autism spaces over the years had put us all in a dead zone where new information can’t get in, ppl can’t step out of line, bullying was virtuous and everyone was in a bubble. Once I could see it, I couldn’t unsee it. It still took time for me to really understand the depth of the issue and be able to piece things together and articulate things (and how sad that I lost the only community I’d ever had that offered me a space to articulate myself in!). I had to piece it together very alone and isolated and eventually joined Gender Critical groups where I was welcomed to ask questions without getting attacked. I saw people having discussions that didn’t end in admins swooping in to attack and ban ppl. I listened to ppl share their own stories of gender or bodily distress, including detransitioners (often autistic) in the groups who had also been banned from their original groups. There was no bullying. Just curiosity and learning together. It was healthy! I joined debate groups too, just to be exposed to different opinions on all kinds of topics and see how ppl cope with and handle disagreements - this was incredible to witness again! I’d been in “safe spaces” for so long that ordinary conversations with other humans felt unsafe. These GC groups and debate groups were a lifeline back to sanity and normality. 

My knowledge grew deeper and deeper and the overlap of trans and autism took me the longest to come to terms with. This is due to the fact that there is hardly any non-ideological autism info out there that doesn’t conflate autism and trans and peddle an affirmative narrative about it. And, even in gender critical spaces, the evidence for why autistic ppl are so deeply wound up in ‘trans’ wasn’t enough - bcos the autism organisations that should be putting this information out weren’t doing it! The silence from autism orgs and charities is astounding. It shocks me to my core and makes me sick. They DO have information - but they refuse to enter the debate. Non-autistic ppl don’t feel they can touch the autism side of the debate bcos they don’t have the knowledge to tackle it. The autism groups and spaces don’t allow the debate to happen amongst autistic members. And the autism orgs are silent on the matter. This is a scandal that I will never forgive. And, I am not just angry at the institutions, I am angry at the ‘autistic community’. 

I decided one night after a devastating interaction that I am going to try and fill that gap myself and start a blog. I had no idea what I was doing, I didn’t feel equipped to articulate what I was seeing and what I’d been part of for over a decade, but I was compelled to get out of the debilitating echo chamber and start making noise. I wanted to raise other autistic voices who had been silenced - so I started doing online interviews and published them on my blog. I started making infographics, I wrote personal testimonies, I shared any news that was relevant and I learnt more and more along the way from interacting with people who both agreed and disagreed. I used to shake all over and have a total meltdown when I’d receive hate from ppl, but after more and more exposure to it the fear slid away and I feel so much more resilient now. My facebook audience grew, but alas, just last week Facebook banned me from their platform. I believe it was a targeted effort to report me en masse for ‘hate’. So, the echo chamber continues… 

I have finally found an autism organisation, in Denmark, that has stepped into the debate against immense backlash and hate, and provided evidence-based research into autism and gender. You can read their Gender Consultation response here https://neuropoppins.substack.com/p/danish-autism-organisation-takes-a 

This intersection of topics: of autism, of being female, of women's rights and psychology, has helped me piece together so much of my life and experiences. For the first time in my life I connected with feminism: Radical Feminism in particular. I never cared before (why would I - I didn’t think I was really a female!). It’s reconnected me with my sex and therefore all other women. It’s helped me understand my autism better and the effects of female socialisation, misogyny and sexism that escalates my feeling of disconnect and differences as an autistic woman in a sexist, pornified, male-centred world. I enjoy reading about it all and learning. And I want to share what I can with others and provide a space where others can share their thoughts too.

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (7.1/8) 🐈‍⬛

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: E; CW: past angst, past arranged marriage, mention of drug abuse, knotting, mention of biting, music as an emotional trigger; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst, sexual content 💚 

This part is mainly fluff and smut with some angst at the end... We'll be back to the kitty cafe in part 2 (up later) I miss it 💚  🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 1 on tumblr (also index post)Chapter 2 Chapter 3.1 Chapter 3.2 Chapter 4.1 Chapter 4.2 Chapter 5.1 Chapter 5.2 Chapter 6.1 Chapter 6.2 On AO3

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 7.1

During the remaining days leading up to the tour, Eddie shared every second he could spare with Steve.

This was mainly nights, which stressed Steve slightly, and not because they’d bunny-hopped the courting stage of their relationship somewhat super-fast. He’d already developed a fiercely protective streak toward his Alpha and didn’t want Eddie to get burn-out. Fortunately, Steve quickly figured out that an energetic session of sticky, smoochy lovemaking could calm Eddie down, even from his most revved state.

The Alpha would be out like a light.

Sex made Steve sleepy too, though he tried to stay awake as long as possible, especially when he’d taken Eddie’s knot. He was basically in heaven—locked with his Alpha in a huge emperor-size bed, under luxurious blankets seeped in both their scents.

Truth was, there was a crazy part of him that was scared to sleep. In case this turned out to be the dream.

He’d liked his life at ‘Kitties’ and in Sunshine Village, although he’d been basically surviving, scraping by. His life before that, though, he’d crushed into dark corners of his mind and tried not to peek. Now, with happiness within his grasp, his ditzy O-brain seemed to want to poke the darkness. He’d even recalled his husband’s pickled-herring scent that very afternoon, wandering near the fish-counter in the grocery store.

He’d dumped his basket and fled, terrified he was gonna hurl.

On Eddie’s final morning, they rode down in the elevator together, edgy and silent, fingers lightly intertwined. When they reached the ground level, the doors began to slide open. Eddie slammed his fist on the ‘close’ button, and clamped Steve tight against his chest.

“Baby,” said Eddie, through gritted teeth. “This is noooot happening. I’m keeping you with—”

“Jesus, how many times?” snapped Steve, nerves frayed to breaking point. “We decided on this plan, because it’s the best way forward.”

It was true. They’d been through this over and over. Steve was absolutely ready to let his hard-won independence go. He still needed time to pack his belongings and say goodbye to his friends, before he hitched his life to Eddie’s rollercoaster existence for good.

“It’s not even a whole fortnight,” he pointed out, in the face of Eddie’s doleful puppy-dog eyes. “It’s gonna give me a chance to get used to your music without losing my shit.”

That was, they’d agreed, another important consideration. Eddie had been singing snatches of songs and playing short demos, while being emotionally and physically available to deal with the fallout—basically, Steve going bananas and melting into a slippery puddle. On tour, he couldn’t exactly run off stage and hump Steve mid-set.

“I know,” sighed Eddie. “I gotta lump it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Eddie took Steve’s face in his hands and the farewell kiss lingered, deep and delicious, till Steve felt tipsy on it. After checking for paps, Eddie escorted Steve out to his waiting ride. When the driver pulled off, Steve glanced back to see Eddie watching him till the vehicle rounded the block.

It felt like Steve’s freakin’ soul was ripping apart. Shivers raced up his spine and around his throat, where Eddie still hadn’t bitten him.

He’ll see it through when he’s got time to look after you, and he’s only gone for a fortnight. With a flying visit in the middle.

Stop snivelling, Harrington. Suck it up.

With a bleep, his phone was spammed with a ton of heart emojis from Eddie. His shivers fled. They exchanged emojis like the lovestruck dipshits they were for the rest of the ride home.

Over the next few days, Eddie live-called on WhatsApp so regularly that Steve ended up late for most of his meetups with friends. His little apartment was bombarded with so many flowers and other courting gifts—including a slew of super-expensive cashmere scarves to stop those chills around his throat—that he had to tell Eddie to stop sending stuff. It was making packing impossible.

“I’m gonna have to give those toys away to local pups,” Steve told Eddie, after being deluged with a literal ton of plushies. “I’m giving two of the three heated cuddle-blankets to Joyce next door. Oh, and half the L'Occitane shower product.”

“Do what you like with them, my darling.” Eddie planted a kiss on the screen, and Steve planted one in return, and then Eddie planted another, which set Steve off squealing. “Only two days left till I see you. It’s killing me, being apart, you know that, Babe? I used to love being on the road, and you’ve ruined it, and I love you all the more. Can’t wait to glue you to me always.”

In the event, it was less than two days till their reunion. At 2am the night after next, Steve was woken by a light tapping on the door. Then came Eddie’s voice, and a fresh waft of his plummy-wine-‘n’-metal scent through the letterbox:

“It’s me, Honey. I rushed for the red-eye—I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. I was gonna die without you.”

“Jesus, thought it was Omegas that got separation sickness.”

Steve flung the door open, absorbing the sight of Eddie looking hilariously hangdog, cheeks dusted with stubble, eyes pinkish and bleary. Eddie grabbed him, and the espresso-tinged kiss was the best kind of ravishment—tongues scrubbing roughly and teeth skimming tender flesh. Steve was already climbing Eddie like a tree, when Eddie hurled him over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry and kicked the door closed behind.

“Alphaaaaa,” Steve whined, feet flailing, fists lightly pounding. Eddie crossed the tiny condo in four long strides and dumped Steve into his nest. Steve ripped down PJs flooding with strings of slick. He was struggling to present, when Eddie slammed into him with one fluid forward thrust.

“My Omega.” Eddie all but howled it: “Soooooo fucking good to be home.”

Steve’s toes curled, his eyes crossed, and his whines shook with purrs. “Yes, yes, Alpha, pleeeease. I missed you… Oh holy fuck, more… please… I missed you soooo much.”

Eddie rewarded Steve’s begging, fucking him hard and fast already. The tremor of thrill, even that faint cheese-wire slice of fear—it was as blockbuster as the first time Eddie claimed him, swinging beneath that starry sky. Steve never knew he could be opened so wide, be so satisfied and filled, be used so savagely yet so adoringly. The only thing that could top this was taking Eddie’s bite also… but Steve could hardly care much about that. Not with Eddie’s knot already ballooning inside him, rutting up and down his slick-drenched pussy.

Eddie soon gripped Steve’s hips and changed his angle, slowing to strike magical spots inside Steve that pitched his purrs into crazy chirrups. With Eddie’s lips back at his throat, Steve twisted for a kiss and pretty much inhaled Eddie into his mouth. Then he was gone—with his mouth crammed with Eddie’s tongue, he exploded into a run of beyond-kickass orgasms, each more epically overwhelming than the last.

“Oh Baby, I adore you,” growled Eddie, while Steve chirruped his head off. “Adore you so fucking much.”

By the time Eddie spooned and knotted him, Steve was happily exhausted from coming over and over. His entire body felt like a trembling erogenous zone. Especially his overstimulated pussy and his stuffed insides, which Eddie coated with layers upon thick layers of hot seed.

“My soulmate. My forever-mate.” Eddie grazed his cheek against Steve’s, scraped wet, sweaty hair from Steve’s eyes. “I got you, Baby, don’t cry. Hey, is this because I’ve not courted you properly? I will, I promise. Gonna court you for the rest of our days. For all fucking eternity.”

“No! N-not that. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Steve hadn’t noticed he was sobbing into his new pink-satin Fendi cushions. He hoped Eddie knew as well as he did that those were happy tears. Even unbitten, no Omega in the world could feel needy and unloved when coupled to his Alpha like this.

Steve slept his deepest and most contented sleep in days, and when he awoke, it was exciting to have Eddie in his little home at last. He’d worried Eddie would be snobbish about it. Instead, Eddie liked everything except the damp patches and the cold. He especially loved Steve’s tiny shower cubicle.

“Reminds me of the good ol’ days growing up in Wayne’s trailer,” he sighed, as they squeezed naked into the postage-stamp size space under the trickly flow. “Ooops, only one place to slot that, huh?”

He gurned down at his Alpha dick, at half-mast already. Steve smirked dotingly and squeezed himself around, his wet skin sliding against Eddie’s, so he faced the cracked tiles. He tiptoed onto a ledge and spread his thighs to allow Eddie’s cockhead to slide between, so warm and hard yet velvety-soft… and soon drenched in more slick and precum than shower water.

They fooled around till it ran cold. Then got warm again in plush lilac robes, which Steve had a sneaky suspicion Eddie had purloined from a hotel suite. Eddie lavished him with yet more gifts too, including a Corroded Coffin tour t-shirt, which Steve put on, remaining otherwise joyfully naked. Eddie also gifted him a diamante tiara with sparkling opal kitty-ears, which Steve loved waaay too much to be healthy. He tried it on, purred and humped Eddie’s leg like a maniac, then put it aside for a special occasion.

While they made coffee, though, a quiet edginess slunk between them. Right till Eddie grabbed Steve by the waist and lifted him up onto the breakfast bar, so they were nose-to-nose, with Steve’s bare ass pressed to the chill counter.

Steve licked his lips and giggled nervously. Okay, if they were going to have a serious conversation, no better way to do it than perched with his arms and legs wrapped around his smoldering-hot Alpha.

Eddie puffed out his cheeks, and it began:

“Listen, Steve, my legal team have gotten hold of your marriage records, but getting a divorce is not gonna be straightforward. You signed the certificate yourself, which is not ideal—”

“They forced me to sign,” Steve said quietly, “if I hadn’t, it wouldn’t have made any difference. I’m property there. My parents could’ve signed on my behalf.”

“I know, Sweetheart—none of this is your fault. We’ll find a loophole, but we’re gonna have to be patient, and honestly? As much as I hate leaving you, I totally agree you shouldn’t go anywhere near North County. That place is weeeeird. I’ve not arrived, and they’re threatening to arrest me as a prophet of satanism. I’m corrupting delicate young minds, apparently. Makes me kinda proud.”

“Yeah, sounds like home sweet home,” mumbled Steve, pressing his brow against Eddie’s. “Joking aside, don’t get arrested there. That place is totally medieval—it would worry me too much.”

Eddie pecked Steve’s nose. “I got options. The sheriff of South County, right next door, seems to be a fan or something. He’s reached out to my promoter and invited me to do the gig just over the border. I dunno, though, is that running away from the fight?”

“Sometimes you have to run away,” whispered Steve.

“I know, Honey. I’m sorry.” Eddie’s arms slid under Steve’s, offering the tight squeeze of safety Steve needed, while he kicked thosehorriblememories back to oblivion.

They got wired on too much caffeine and fooled around some more. Till Eddie asked, tentative, if Steve would like to hear his latest demo.

“Fuck, yeah,” said Steve. “As long as you don’t mind me skidding off your lap in a waterfall.”

Eddie’s grin was ravenous, his tone just short of a bark. “My lap, Omega. Now.”

He sat in Steve’s nest, patting his thighs, and Steve moulded himself into his favorite place. He clung around Eddie’s neck, notching his chin above Eddie’s collarbone. Eddie popped the earbuds into one each of their ears and pressed play.

Right from the get-go, Eddie’s yelling broke Steve:

“I’M YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS AND YOU RIPPED MY LAST SECRET FROM MY ACID DRENCHED HEART, COS I’M YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS YOURS, I’M YOUR LAST SECRET, I’LL BE YOUR LAST SECRET…”

Steve crumpled forward into sobs, so convulsive he could barely breathe. Eddie killed the demo, “Oh crap, Steve, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“No, it’s n-not you.” His next retching sob thudded painfully against his breastbone, as Eddie tried to ease him upright. “I-it’s like everything is rushing back. I guess because we were talking… about North County… about running away… I was so scared.”

“Sssssh, Baby, it’s okay. Gonna be okay. Gonna take care of you and never let you go. Uh…. You wanna tell me what happened?”

It took a while. Held tight in Eddie’s arms, his nose pretty much lost in Eddie’s armpit, Steve pulled himself together.

“I’ve never talked about that night, even to Robin,” he murmured. “I think that’s why the song triggered… Oh Jesus, I guess it’s, like, my last secret, and I need you to know it.”

And he spilled, with Eddie rocking him and soothing him through every agonising twist of the tale. When he finished explaining the lengths he’d had to go to not to be mated and bitten by an Alpha he hated, Eddie took a beat, and then:

“You drugged the son-of-a-bitch with tranqs your parents used on you? Then jumped off a moving train? Woah! You are one badass metal lil’ Omega.”

“I guess,” mumbled Steve.

“Wow! I didn’t think I could love you any more than I already did,” breathed Eddie. “But… Wow!”

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 7.2

Thank you so very much for reading. If you enjoyed, every little like and reblog or comment means a lot to me so thank you💚

I am always happy to tag, pls let me know, or you can follow the tag #steddie omega cat cafe 💚

tags 💚🐈‍⬛💚 @disrespectedgoatman 💚 @bumblebeecuttlefishes

@katethetank 💚 @themoonagainstmers 💚 @chaotic-waffle 💚

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

On AO3

[joelsgoldrush]

wip wednesday: "lovers once a year" (dbf!joel miller)

hello to you, tiny people on my phone. reaching the end of this semester has thrown me onto a motherfucking rollercoaster. if i even think about the amount of finals i have to sit for, i'm afraid i'll tear up. so here i am, drifting away from real-life responsibilities </3 still working on this dbf!joel fic cause i haven't had much time to write lately, but i'm trying not to be too hard on myself. i really like how it's coming along. i'm close to finishing, though i'm not going to promise a specific posting date because i never seem to manage it LMAO

anyway, thank you to @elflutter @joelsdagger and @ovaryacted for tagging me!!!

No one could’ve ever said Joel was a great best friend. For one, he was terrible at remembering important dates. His mind just didn’t catch hold of details like that—never had, really. He wasn’t the affectionate type, either. At best, he’d manage a pat on the back or a firm handshake, maybe even a call on Christmas if he remembered. Emotional displays weren’t in his nature, far too used to keeping things at arm’s length. Luckily for him, Stephen never seemed to care much about these things. They’d been friends for over forty years—which is, well, a hell of a long time, especially considering each had gone off to carve out his own life. They’d trudged through both primary and secondary school side by side, and Joel felt Stephen’s absence like a hollow ache the day his friend left for university in another state. Technology eventually offered them more ways to connect, but it didn’t make keeping up any simpler. The years had tested them, and somehow, they’d held on to the quiet strength of their friendship—a bond they’d forged across decades and distance, held steady like the roots of an old tree. Stephen was the laid-back type, always down for anything as long as a cold beer was part of the deal. It was rare for him to lose his temper, having a way of letting nuisances slide. Joel could bend every rule, yet Stephen’s patience never wavered. He was unflappable, hardly bothered by Joel’s mood swings, which was what made them a match made in heaven. Nothing seemed to throw him off. Though Joel doubts Stephen would stay so calm if he knew what he’d done to his daughter. As mentioned, Joel’s not exactly what you’d call a good friend—particularly considering he’s slept with his best friend’s daughter. Just once, to be fair. One ephemeral, impulsive encounter. Right here, in this very house, exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago.

AND

Apart from the glint in your eyes, he catches the persistent, quiet ache of want. He isn’t sure if it’s just physical attraction, if it runs deeper, or if that’s all it is for him, either. He doesn’t need to know. The simplicity of it all is a short-lived relief. It’s an easy escape, though, this bare minimum of understanding—you want him, he wants you. Let it be enough for one more moment, for tonight, just another memory he’ll have to lock away. Yet he’s aware, deep down, of his own pattern: promises broken just as easily as they’re made. He’s only fooling himself. The part of him that knows this isn’t something he’ll let go of so easily sits there, silently taunting him, daring him to make another promise he won’t keep.

tagging: @lubdubology @zloshy @princessanglophile @cavillscurls @guiltyasdave @tightjeansjavi @mrsmando - so sorry if you've already been tagged :( - and anybody else who feels like doing it!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Six Song Soundtrack —

Rules: If you're tagged, make a post with links to music and/or lyrics describing six things / events about your OC/story.

Thank you so much @valkblue for the tag! I Love sharing story soundtracks!

I'm gonna go with the soundtrack for The Mist on Mulholland, my Dieter Bravo x M!OC wip, because I'm very partial to this playlist (it ranges from the early 90s to current) and these characters.

1- Event that defines your character's past:

Pictures of You by The Cure - The whole premise of this story is that Dieter has decided to write a memoir about the time in his life that he considers the most formative - when he grew into himself and found his people and found out things about himself and formed bonds that got him through the hard times. Of course, at the heart of all of it is a love story that never quite took off but absolutely never went anywhere. The whole song works, but none of it quite as well as the closing lines:

There was nothing in the world That I ever wanted more Than to feel you deep in my heart There was nothing in the world That I ever wanted more Than to never feel the breaking apart Of these pictures of you

Throughout the story, as he's looking back and writing about these moments and these people, we see flashbacks of Dieter and Lake (and May, of course) falling in love and breaking each other's hearts but never fully letting go.

2- How your character sees themselves:

True. by The Airborne Toxic Event - A little self-depreciating, but very honest, this song feels like it would be how Dieter sees himself as he's looking back and revisiting memories. Once again, the whole song is relevant, but the very first verse stands out to me:

It sure seems clear to me As far as I can see How the highest life brought the lowest out of me Eventually

The rest of the song is sort of a thank you/ apology to someone that has been hurt by the singer's actions and decisions but who stuck by their side and always will.

Their closest relationships (romantic and platonic):

I love that this one includes both romantic and platonic, because as much as this is a Dieter/M!OC (Lake) story, it's also a story about the friendship between the two main characters and May, their third musketeer.

3- Romantic: What Does It Mean? by VHS Collection - This song is on the playlist for the tentative, unsure, "gosh I hope we both want the same things" vibes that keep both characters - Dieter and Lake - coming back for more. Specifically the bridge:

And I see you Only in yesterday Hoping that you would stay Are we dreaming? Was it a big mistake, Throwing it all away?

This corresponds to a point in the story midway between the two main timelines, when the characters are reunited after a long separation, and they're questioning whether or not they made the right call to not be together. Little bit of a rose colored glasses situation, but still, the questions need to be asked. And answered.

4- Platonic: Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs - OBVIOUSLY the "they don't love you like I love you" line works suuuuper well here, because Dieter, Lake and May form a friendship that is so solid that no one ever really knows any of them the way they all know each other. But even more relevant to their relationship, I think, is :

Don't stray My kind's your kind I'll stay the same

These three define found family. They are quite literally what is meant when you hear the phrase "you just have to find your people". They're the collective loves of each other's lives.

A major fight scene:

Every You Every Me by Placebo - This story is going to be a constant rollercoaster of ups and downs, and when it gets rocky it really gets rocky. This song is perfect for one of the rockiest moments, when emotions are raw and tensions are high, especially these lines:

Sucker love, I always find Someone to bruise and leave behind All alone in space and time There's nothing here, but what's here's mine Something borrowed, something blue Every me and every you

This represents one of the lowest/darkest points in the story, where Dieter focuses too much on his mistakes and beats himself up a bit (a lot) for not being able to give Lake what he deserved.

End credits song:

Mulholland Drive by The Gaslight Anthem - This is the song I was listening to when the idea for this story first came to me, and it has been acting as the cornerstone for the whole thing. Every single word of it is relevant to key parts of the story, but if I had to choose just one section it would be this one: I can still recall the hour when you first let down your walls And I thought I might've died right there, floating up above it all But it scared you love, to need someone, so you killed it all instead But in the mist up on Mulholland, I could've sworn I heard you say Oh that I would just die if you ever took your love away

A big part of this story is about public vs private personas and how managing both can affect relationships. This song is about a secret love that one person wants to remain secret while the other is hoping to bring it out of the shadows and give it some legitimacy. It's just a matter of how long that person is willing to wait to see if the other will ever be ready to acknowledge what they have.

** If anyone wants to know what other songs are currently on the playlist, my inbox is open and I'd love to share!**

tagging a few who might want to share some tunes: @artemiseamoon @maggiemayhemnj @grogusmum @secretelephanttattoo @jolapeno @oonajaeadira & anyone else who wants to play!

[petalouda85]

Birth

Fandom: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

Pairings: Tyril x f!human!MC (Kassandra)

Word count: 1.4k

Concept: Kade, Imtura, and Mal wait for news of the newest member of their family

Tags: @liviusofpella, @megas-choices, @starlight-starfury, @dutifullynuttywitch, @thosehallowedhalls @choicesficwriterscreations

AO3 link: x

A/N: Finally. The fic I’ve wanted to post for a very long time. I can finally reveal the name for Baby Starfury 🥰 after the emotional rollercoaster of Forever (in my Mind), you guys deserve a fluffy treat. Enjoy.

Reading had always been easy for Kade. Almost as easy as breathing. He could grab any tome and easily be lost in the words, his mind taken to places far away and times long gone, it all brought to life with his imagination. Tonight, however, it was hard to concentrate as his mind constantly drifted towards the cabin near to where he sat, his stomach twisting with the knowledge of what was happening inside. He tried to listen for any noise coming from the home, despite knowing it was pointless; Nia and Tyril had made sure of that.

Unable to focus on his book, Kade looked towards the other two that kept him quiet company in the homestead. Mal practiced a few quick movements with his dagger, stabbing into an imaginary foe, while Imtura stood off to the side, aiming and hurling her axes into a nearby tree, the bark splitting more each time. Boredom could rationalize their weapon practice, but Kade knew better.

A few weeks prior, when everyone had finally arrived in Riverbend, the villagers warned them of a group of elves that had recently traveled through. While no direct questions were asked, their apparent interest in the “Hero of Morella” had set off alarm bells in everyone and precautions were taken.

When Kassandra went into labor, Nia and Tyril had cast a spell over the clearing, masking the homestead, and then a silencing spell over the cabin. Once the door shut behind them, Mal and Imtura had pulled their weapons closer, ready to be grabbed at the first sign of trouble. Several hours had passed since then, the high afternoon sun now replaced by a bright moon; Kade reckoned it was past midnight already.

He snapped his book shut and leaned forward with a great sigh, rubbing his eyes and face trying to relieve the tension and growing exhaustion.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle.” He said softly. He must’ve been louder than he thought because in a split second, Mal stood before him.

“You and me both, buddy.” The rogue said, sitting down next to him. “It’s happening and I still have trouble wrapping my head around it. Elf boy and kit are going to be parents. Who would’ve thought the wet blanket and the life of the party would ever reach this point.”

“It is hard to wrap your head around it all.” Kade said. “For so long, it was just me and my sister. Now she’s having a baby.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s stupid to think so but, part of me is scared that she’ll forget me; a child takes priority after all.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Imtura said, pulling her axe from the tree before joining the two men. “I’ve travelled with Kassandra long enough to know that she’d never forget you or any of us. We’re all her family and nothing’s gonna change that, not even a new tiny landrat.”

“Would be nice if the little tyke made headway.” Mal said, letting out a loud yawn. “All this doing nothing is making me tired.” His yawn was replaced with a yelp when Imtura slapped him across his head. “Hey!”

“You can’t rush these things.” She scolded. “The tyke gets here when they get here. And that could be in the next 5 minutes or in the next few hours. Hells, little guy could already be here and Kassandra’s just not up for visitors right now. We just got to wait.”

“I know, I know! Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about the waiting. It’s not like we got a lot to do besides that and there’s only so many fake guys I can stab.”

“I’d offer a book, but I get the sense neither of you are readers, even when faced with endless boredom.” All three laughed.

“We’ll leave the reading to you, kid.” Mal stood up from the bench and pulled forth a deck of cards from his pocket. “Up for a game?” He asked the orc, who smiled.

“Always. Be ready to lose.” The two found a patch of grass to sit on and began their game. Kade watched them half-heartedly for a moment before opening his book once more, trying his best not to nod off.

He shut his eyes briefly and when he opened them next, his face was glued against the cover of the book and his back was stiff from the hard bench. With a groan, he sat up, a thin blanket falling off him. Looking around him, he found Imtura and Mal also asleep in the grass, their card game replaced by a now extinguished fire, and the birds singing their morning song as the sun’s beams began to peak through the trees. He stretched his back and checked the state of the cabin, finding the spell still on it, before moving towards his slumbering companions.

“Rise and shine.” Kade said as Mal woke up.

“Morning already? Nothing yet?”

“Nothing yet.” Kade moved to wake Imtura next. Soon, the three sat down for a silent breakfast, ready for the prospect of another day of waiting. After their quick meal, Kade returned to the bench and grabbed his book, ready to try reading it yet again, when a magical hum came from the cabin. He immediately abandoned the tome, jumping to his feet when some low noises could be heard from inside. The door clicked open, and everyone ran to it as Nia appeared in the frame, looking frazzled and tired. Despite her weary state, the priestess was smiling.

“Everything’s fine.” She quickly said, seeing the worry on their faces. “Mom and baby are doing fine. They were born just after midnight. They’re all cleaned up and have already been resting for some time.”

“Midnight? But-“ Mal began to protest but Imtura gave him another slap. The priestess fought down a snicker at his incredulous look before she opened the door a bit wider.

“You can come in but only for a little while; Kassandra’s still very tired.”

Kade ran in first, finding Aderyn preparing some food in the kitchen. He quickly sent her a grateful smile before dashing towards the bedroom, the others on his heels. The moment he stepped into the entrance way, he froze.

Mal unceremoniously bumped into him, but any complaint was quickly gone when the three heard the soft gurgling noises coming from the little bundle resting in Kassandra’s arms.

She was lying in bed, looking exhausted and worn out. Tyril, seated in a chair next to the bed, appeared exhausted as well but both were staring down at the bundle with immeasurable love and affection in their eyes. The two looked up as the visitors slowly entered the room.

“Hi.” Kassandra said, her eyes brimming with tears, before looking down at her child. “Look who’s here.”

Kade stood frozen in place for a moment, alternating his gaze between his sister and the child in her arms, before rushing to the bed and embracing her tightly, tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered to her. He continued holding her, hearing her sniffle before she returned the embrace

“Thank you.” He gave her a kiss on her cheek before pulling away. He then quickly turned towards Tyril and embraced him too; it took the elf a moment to return the gesture.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Kade pulled away and sat down on the bed, watching the child with pride swelling in his chest.

“Do you want to hold them?” Kassandra asked after a while.

“Yes.”

Gently, she passed the bundle to him, the man gawking down at the baby nestled in the blanket their mother had made for them. They were beautiful, dark-skinned and a barely visible black fuzz on their head. They looked almost entirely human, if not for their ears. Granted, they were shorter than the standard elven ears but there was no denying the point at the end of them.

“Hi.” Kade said softly and in disbelief. He took their little hand, the tiny digits not even wrapping entirely around his thumb. “I’m your uncle.” He turned to look at Mal, Imtura and Nia; none had a dry eye. “And your other uncle and aunts are here too.” He looked back to the new parents, who beamed with pride as they held each other’s hand. “What’s their name?”

Tyril looked to Kassandra, who nodded.

“Everyone,” Tyril began with a proud smile, “meet our daughter, Kaya.”

[rocketturtle4]

Be My Favorite, Lets Reflect

Okaaaay I’ve decided this is happening today after all because who knows what the combined power of Only Friends and Laws of Attraction is about to do to my brain.

Full Disclosure: I’m an optimist and I’m easy to please. If I finish a show, that typically means I liked it. This final episode could have been an actual disaster and I probably would have given this show 8/10 and watched it again in the future.

Tagging the people who have been watching along with me, in case you wish to read my final thoughts, getting to be a part of this experience with you has been an absolute delight no matter how late you joined! @shouldiusemyname @thegalwhorants @plantsarepeopletoo @lurkingshan @pandasmagorica @twig-tea @waitmyturtles @benkaaoi @telomeke @dribs-and-drabbles @stuffnonsenseandotherthings @clairificusrex @williamrikers @grapejuicegay @dropthedemiurge @bengiyo

With all that said here goes

Themes that felt unfinished

The whole thing with any and all parents, but especially Piseangs felt somewhat unresolved/glossed over.

I have no idea what the point of the Kwan/Not storyline was??

Themes that felt reasonably resolved but could have been pushed more

Looking back I kind of like that the fighting for rights storyline was most strongly played out through Max. This was consistent all the way through and while I do definitely think this show could have chosen a different direction and taken a stronger stance, I’m not mad about this.

I genuinely think that the fact Kawi tried and then DIDN’T LIKE the rollercoaster after episode 10’s EXTREMELY ON THE NOSE POINTING (apparently this one still invokes strong emotions huh) kind of make’s ace!kawi pretty close to canon, they clearly still have sex which is totally fine in my books but like, my dude is ace.

Where have I landed overall?

Using my unnecessarily lengthy 5 category system of rating and review this show ended up at 92% 21st out of 82 BLs 12th out of Thai BLs, Greater Recommendation  

I want to be clear here, 92% is HIGH and I loved this show A LOT, the ending very much included. Also I normally wait longer to give something a rating so this could waver but likely only by a couple of percent either way

What Was My Takeaway? -It’s about Control

Okay so this is definitely influenced at least in part by my readings of @lurkingshan (here) and @waitmyturtles (here) posts and I loved how the framing of the serenity prayer in Shan’s takeaway (original post by @shortpplfedup here) lined up perfectly with my thoughts so I will put that in here

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  The courage to change the things I cannot accept,  And the wisdom to know the difference

So much of this show was about Kawi learning that control and change isn’t resolved through force but instead through trust and patience. In the first half of the show, Kawi tries again and again to alter things into perfection, and he fails each time. He learns that only his own actions can be controlled, not even his own feelings are entirely within his grasp. He learns to hold on to the things that matter and let go of what can not be.

He father dies but he gets a chance to see him again, and to convey his feelings sincerely building up the relationship before the end.

He learned that even with a second chance, some things can’t be changed, and no matter how hard he tried his dad still died.

He gains a beautiful found family, so different from the family he was trying to build with Pear before he understood himself.

I feel like episodes 10 & 12 dragged my right down into my feels about the things control can change. Because to me, everything that happened in the theme park in episode 12, juxtaposed in my head against everything that happened in the theme park in episode 10 highlighted how much change control can wrought.

In episode 12 we have the shifted perspective, Piseang has come back, Piseang is panicked and fearful and Kawi clocks this immediately, and what does he do, he stays completely calm, in this same time, but in the original timeline (ep10), Kawi is lacking all control. Max has pointed out to him that Piseang probably want’s sex and Kawi is NOT SURE how he feels about that. He tries to regain some equilibrium by taking them out but refusing to ride and ends up more and more prickly and uncertain at Piseangs every nudge.

Opposite this we have our episode 12 timeline where our focus is all different, Kawi is pulling Piseang along with him and encouraging him to accept the future even as they enjoy a lost moment of the past. A moment now filled with much greater joy for both of them because with the pressure gone, Kawi is ready to face anything if it makes Piseang happy.

I have seen some interesting thoughts about Kawi being affected by the knowledge of his possible death, and maybe this is it, but to me this change felt different. For some people it’s easier to be strong when someone else is being weak, because we can’t always be strong for ourselves, sometimes we have to be strong for others. Kawi’s focus in this second timeline was outward rather than inward and it fundamentally changed the experience for both of them.

Piseang hadn’t really been weak much in their relationship, even in the most developed future where they aren’t together, he is there, steady and waiting for Kawi to need him.

In this episode Kawi had to be steady and this put them on more equal footing than ever before because Kawi has grown so much. We have seen his change, his arc was immense and, to me at least, immensely satisfying. Getting to see this Kawi in episode 12, the one who is calm and sure in the face of his partners uncertainty highlighted how these two will work and grow together in the future we had already seen.

It made me like episode 10 more

(I have specific thoughts about consciousness and whether or not the latter scenes in ep10 occur with Kawi’s knowledge of future!Piseang laid out at the bottom of this very interesting thread. In short(ish), my takeaway is that the memories of Kawi’s second day at the amusement day are dormant but present in Kawi’s mind, influencing his actions. To me when he reaches out to Piseang at the restaurant towards the end of episode 10, after Piseang has travelled back to the future

this is an extension of the reaching out we see Kawi doing throughout episode 12

This gif was posted by @wanderlust-in-my-soul as a part of this post which is all the times Kawi and Piseang hold hands in ep 12 (often with Kawi reaching out). Even if Kawi doesn’t consciously know it, he is influenced by the events of episode 12 in the latter parts of epiosde 10, this also makes me feel better about the episode 10/11 sex scene for the record)

It made me like episode 11 more (and I already liked this one!)

It made me glad to have been so wrong about where I thought episode 11 and 12 would go.

Because the finale drew us back in to the core of the show. It let go of the things that could not be finished and brought together the things that could. Making us the audience sit with the very themes Kawi had learned.

@dropthedemiurge actually put it so beautifully that I’ve just stolen (and slightly paraphrased) their words straight out of this post

“the final episode was not here to yell, but instead to speak softly and soothe your worries until you find the courage to live and stay smiling, content with discovering the right way to live”

I was left warm and fuzzy, content and satisfied, I could never be mad at a show for that.

[incineraryperiphery]

Danmei Rec Meme

(thank you for clearing up my misunderstanding and the tag @endless-season! Original post here)

-How long have you been into danmei, how did you get into it / what was your first danmei? It's been a year or two (or three? time is irrelevant) at this point, but TGCF was my first! Asked around on a forum for character dynamic recs when I wanted to read something different and this was the one that caught my eye. I've been voraciously devouring them since. (Reading novels is my main motivation for learning mandarin; there's far too few translated horror danmei for my tastes and even less officially done ones)

-Favourite danmei? ask me again in three months and I can guarantee i'll give you a different answer. right now, it's a three-way tie between fake slackers (low stakes modern high school identity porn), married thrice to salted fish (ancient transmigration from the pov of a villain), and i can keep you alive till the fifth watch (desperate to live young master enters an unlimited flow horror game), but MDZS occupies most of my fandom brainspace at the moment.

-Favourite couples / characters? Man, there's so many. Off the top of my head for the couples that don't include my pet noncanon ships, chi ting and yue ren (please follow the rules of the game), ren yifei and saman (the days i clear escape games pretending to be an npc), xue qianshao and hui xing (where to find the remnants of spring), wei e and the creator (folklore's no. 1 boss), and song nanzhi and gu yanqing (穿成魔尊后与反派相爱相杀 - i'm not entirely confident in my own translation of the title) Character-wise outside of those boys up there, I love zhao yelan (after being forced to marry the evil star general), fu zhiyu (buddha-like rebirth), yu fan (wait for me after school), and san san (do you have any opinion on mechanical cat ears?). (Honorary mention to shenyuan svsss even without reading the novel yet, mostly because it feels like every post I see out of that fandom makes fun of him for reading a stallion novel for the plot but that's Thee most relatable-to-me character trait i've ever seen)

-Most recently read danmei? My most recently finished one is it's my turn to take the stage and fly/it's my turn to dominate (cryofrozen team captain gets defrosted and starts playing the vr version, meets his little cousin's shameless childhood friend in said game). I just started genius strategy theory (weak as hell little genius gets finally gets his hands on a holographic game he can actually play, i think the ML is the head of a research department?) and i'm very much enjoying it, but i'm juggling a few others in my open tabs for if the mood strikes.

-Any favourite authors? Qi jing nan qu and Nian zhong, no question. I love the way they both handle all the little details and really bring out the main couples relationships through them - the only downside is the emotional rollercoasters wear me out haha. My favorites from each are don't pick up boyfriends from the trash bin and sending the divine/sendoff. I also really enjoy the way mxtx structures her novels but it always takes me a few tries to really get into them.

-Any popular danmei you aren't particularly a fan of? Anything by priest, unfortunately - no fault on their part, all their concepts are fascinating but I just bounce off every one I try.

-Anything you've been meaning to read but still haven't? I've started both svsss and erha a couple times but the stars haven't been aligned properly or something for me to finish them yet (I already know i'm going to be terribly insufferable once i actually sit down and bang out the former, it has so many of my favorite tropes).

-Choose a random (the weirder and baitier, the better) memorable scene/danmei to describe! Okay so lets say you're some washed up magician who technically transmigrated into a novel, into the body of someone who was supposed to die in the first few pages doing something ridiculously stupid. You've already made it through an instance or two, made something of a name for yourself despite everything, and now you've got the big bad number one player trying to sabotage you inside another instance. everything is dealt with and you're this close to completing the instance when you're sucked into a coffin that you've just trapped someone in. said number one is in there instead, breathing your air and threatening you and being an irritating menace about all of it. it feels like there's no way to get out but, hey, you're a magician. you'll find a way even if it's a gamble. what do you do? You set the coffin on fire behind your back. (there's other really good scenes from thriller trainee but this one's my favorite and doesn't take fifty chapters of backstory to explain)

-Are there any particular genres/tropes you enjoy / don't enjoy? I mostly read unlimited flow/horror, xianxia/xuanhuan, and esports, (and wuxia, but there's not a lot of wuxia danmei floating around) but I'll read anything if the premise sounds interesting. For tropes, I enjoy omegaverse, court intrigue, pretending to be npcs, systems, and master/disciple - I like my protags cold, ruthless, and preferably some sort of sick or disabled. Even better if the main couple tries to murder each other a few times. As for dislikes, I'm not fond of cops/law enforcement main characters, anything dealing with suicide, or bully/victim ships (though, like I said, I'll read anything if it sounds interesting enough).

-Any recommendations to give? Badly describe them in a few sentences. A couple that I don't really see crossing my dash: Support is king (low stakes vr gaming about a poisonous healer, his pining dps, and a five-year misunderstanding. same author as please follow the rules of the game) Two Long Aotians' shura fields (scummy master completes his system quests but gets shunted to an alternate timeline where he can actually care for his little disciple instead of going home, protag from the original world discovers this and is not pleased. much stripping of vests and identity porn) PUBG online romance of the century (trashy voice-con livestreamer meets his terrible gamer boss and falls in love at first listen. same author as wait for me after school, i can do it is also really fucking cute too) Every day, the marshal is a love-struck fool for me (underground supposed-to-be-dead assassin ends up married to a war hero due to an error, terrible love advice abounds. short, sweet, plot-heavy and mecha-light - i heard my fiance is super fierce is also good) After marrying the lord of the underworld (wicked unlucky exorcist gets ghost-married as a kid to protect him, turns out his promised "beautiful female ghost" is a king of the underworld. feels like the author never misses, they also wrote how to feed an abyss and the dragon lord is weak and helpless but has a big appetite) His marriage partner is scheming (nominally-straight transmigrator can't bear to let the pretty minor villain meet his book-fate and marries him about it. Chi xueyan's family is so much fun.) Non-human seeking re-employment (lazy little ghost gets sucked into a horror game after two whole days of being human, proceeds to ruin the ambience by kicking everything he comes across. shen dongqing is not stuck there with the ghosts, the other ghosts are stuck there with him.)

(tagging anyone who'd like to do this, really, I don't think I know many people into danmei outside the big ones)

[hannieween]

YOOOOOO YOOOOO YOOOOO OMG WLSMSKSPSMSLWPSMSN CAN I PLEASE RESPECTFULLY SCREAM AT YOU BECAUSE OMG I WAS TOTALLY NOT EXPECTING THIS????? LIKE WONWOO BEING ENTANGLED WITH MC AND MINGYU AT THE SAME TIME???? When I first saw the pairings as jeon wonwoo x reader I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me!!! BECAUSE THIS IS SUPER UNEXPECTED LIKE I CANT EVEN FORM WORDS OMG. Firstly, your writing is immaculate as always, the best, love it so much!!!! Secondly, THE ROLLERCOASTER OF EMOTIONS I HAD TO GO THROUGH BECAUSE WTHHHHHHH GURL I ADMIT DEFEAT OKAY IM WEAKHEARTED WHY YOU GOTTA PLAY WITH MY FEELINGS LIKE THAT 😩😩😩

Now I got to ask the main question, is this story going to be like the lights out series now? They are going to be in a poly relationship in the future? Or how is it going to go? BECAUSE I DONT WANT TO SEE MINGYU AND WONWOO BOTH BEING SADDDDDDD 😭 THEY BOTH DESERVE THEIR HAPPY ENDING AND GETTING THE GIRL!!!!

Okay sorry for screaming idk if I sound coherent or not because I’m coming off high from my emotions after reading the chapter 🥹 thank you so much once again for the wonderful chapter!!

YOOOO

i laughed a little when i first read this ask hahahah it's half-written in caps omg

thank you so so much!! hehe i was honestly gatekeeping it so hard because i wanted it to be a plot twist! 🙂

as to your questions... i don't want to give too many details away! i will post the masterlist for the series in a couple of days, and the tags should explain it better than i can atm lol

girl, i love to be yelled at haajsjdfkfk thank you so so much for this wonderful ask! i hope i see you around, nonnie. take care mwah ��

[fangbangerghoul]

Snippet Sunday!

It is currently 12:07 AM EST and I am going ahead and post this bad boy, so I don't have to worry about it later!

This week has been full of lots of changes and honestly it has helped motivate me to write chapter 9 of Fleeting Pleasures a lot! I cannot believe I am on the second to last chapter of this long fic. It's blowing my mind.

Under the cut will be a portion of Sam Coe's POV after the events of Chapter 8 (which I highly suggest you read to understand the context!)

I am going to go ahead and tag my writers crew (if I didn't catch you, please let me know so I can add you!):

@bearlytolerant @silurisanguine @eridanidreams @a-cosmic-elf @staticpallour @toxiclizardwrites @therealgchu @5oh5 @booburry @atonalginger @aislingdmdt @thatsgoodsquishy0 @spookyspecterino @lisa-and-shadow @samcoesclub

Chapter 9: bad decisions

Snippet of Sam's POV:

He heard a knock on the bathroom and it pushed him out the sinkhole of his thoughts. Whenever he thought about it he would run himself in circles and ride a rollercoaster of emotions that always finished with a new kind of despair he wasn’t used to. 

“I’m coming out.” He grumbled, throwing his toothbrush back into the cup that was on the sink and took one last minute to splash cold water on his face. Something to shock his system back to normal. Sam reached to grab the door, ignoring the glimpse of his dull blue eyes in the mirror and when the wood door opened, Barrette was on the other side. He gave his usual awkward grin and did a small wave. 

“Good morning, Sam! Have you been sleeping better since Noel gave you that herbal tea to try?” He asked so casually about a subject Sam had never remembered mentioning to him. Normally he would have shrugged it off but this time it irked him in particular. The members of Constellation were more prone to talk to him in soft voices or speak about his business more openly when he wasn’t around. It made his skin crawl.  

“No.” Sam said plainly, staring Barret down for a moment before relaxing his shoulders. He was trying to get comfortable around those he considered family again. However the transition from consistently raiding and interrogating Crimson Fleet members to having normal mundane conversation was an adjustment. “Good morning though.” 

Sam walked past him, careful not to bump into Barrett as he walked by. He didn’t like it when someone brushed against his left side even after the wound had fully healed. Sam also didn’t like to think about that fact so he just kept on moving. He was ready to eat. 

On his way to the eating area he stopped by his room one more time to grab a mahogany robe to wrap around his loose white tee and baggy gray sweatpants. The elastic sometimes didn’t stay around his hips and would occasionally sag so in order to protect everyone around him from seeing the moon so early in the day he liked to wear his robe. His slippers dragged a bit as he walked like he was taking a sunday stroll through a park. Sam was never in a hurry to get anywhere, to do anything really. 

“Dad!” He heard the young squeak of his daughter from around the corner and Cora ran up to him and hugged him tight. He winced instinctively but tried to catch himself so she wouldn’t think she hurt him. Her curls were bouncing and wild and the smile on her face was brighter than any star he had seen in a long while. Seeing Cora always gave him a little bit of his life back especially after being separated from her for as long as they were. 

“Hey sweet pea.” He rubbed her back gently in the embrace and kept his arm around her as he led them forward. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Dad it’s noon.” 

“Oh, what are you doing up so late then?” He smiled at her teasingly.  

“Daaaad.” She said in protest as she pushed herself away from him gently. “Were you going to come to the meeting later today?”

“Meeting?” He was puzzled at her question. Sam didn’t know of any meeting, not one that needed to involve him. 

“Ms. Morgan was talking to Walter earlier and I heard them say when Andreja and Vlad arrive they were going to have a discussion.” Cora said with a bit of concern in her tone. Sam knew if she had heard that much then she was all too aware that the meeting was about Ghoul. 

“Is that so?” He asked with a cool tone trying not to give away any concern he may have felt. He still didn’t have the heart to tell Cora that Ghoul did this to him. Even though the other’s had continued their recent pattern of talking about his well being behind his back he figured how much further would that subject be? 

“Yeah! Dad, what are you eating for late breakfast?”

“Cheese pizza, if you are asking.” He said with a sly smirk.