#coda was a beast to get through

[rosesofenvy]

2m25s of Arthur Lester Falling (S3)

Tag your favorite fall! Mine is "a long, long fall (reprise)"

SEASON 1 COMPILATION

SEASON 2 COMPILATION

SEASON 4 COMPILATION

[imtheiliad]

CAN I GO WHERE YOU GO? 920 words | bucktommy | 7x06 coda a/n: look it me! i wrote something :P just a soft little thing that i couldn't stop thinking about <3 idek how long it has been since i published something episode related lol so be kind and gentle if you please<3 title is kinda just what fit best lol, enjoy!

Buck twirls his niece around as music plays quietly over a speaker, barely loud enough to hear over the quiet chatter. He swings her up and deposits her next to her newly-wed parents, and they look perfect. Buck remembers the reception of her first wedding, his cheeks didn’t hurt from smiling then, they do now, and by the looks of it so do Maddie’s. 

“You might want to–” she points toward the chair in the corner that holds his beast of a boyfriend, a bottled water coming dangerously close to slipping from his exhaustion-induced slack grip. 

“I should get him home, the adrenaline has worn off. I love you both so much, and you,” he ruffles Jee’s hair and leans in for a group hug, placing a kiss in his sister's hair. If he thinks too hard about everything he might cry, so he leaves unsaid and squeezes her tight hoping she understands. 

He takes the water bottle from Tommy’s hands and stands between his legs, gently cupping his cheek, “Hey, you are exhausted, let’s get you home. I’ll drive you.” 

And Tommy looks up at him through his eyelashes– how had Buck not noticed those before now? 

“You don’t have to– you should stay here. I’m sure Maddie–” 

“What she wants is for me to get you home safely, and visiting hours are almost over anyway.”

He can see Tommy trying to come up with a rebuttal, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something and then gives up.

Buck grabs Tommy’s turnout coat from the back of the chair, folding it over his arm and taking Tommy’s hand in his. 

“Congratulations again you two,” Tommy says as enthusiastically as he can before they turn toward the door.

—

Buck is awkwardly sitting at a table in the common area of Harbor. It feels weird to be in another station without his reason for being there within sight. Tommy had assured him that it was okay for him to sit, and if anyone gave him trouble to tell them that he was there with him. 

“Buckley! What are you doing here?” a familiar voice nearly makes him jump out of his seat. 

“Lu-Lucy! Hi.” 

She stands behind the chair across from him, leaning on her elbows on the top of the chair. And she actually waits for him to answer. 

“I-I’m waiting for Tommy. Had to swing by to drop off his turnouts and get his bag.”

Her brow crinkles a little and she cocks her head, “his shift ended hours ago?” 

“He uhhh, he came to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’s pretty exhausted so I’m driving him home.” 

“He went to a wedding after that fire? In his turnouts?”

“It was at the hospital, wild story really. And I asked him to be there, so he was.” he blushes a little as he watches her do a little math. 

“Donato! Are you bullying Evan?” Buck can hear the smile on Tommy’s lips as he feels his hand land on his shoulder. He looks up at his boyfriend, and Tommy leans down, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. He looks a little brighter after rinsing off in the station showers and changing back into his Henley. 

“I was wondering why you had table privileges,” she smiles. “So, Chim finally got hitched huh, tell him and Maddie congrats for me.”

“Will do,” Buck smiles at her, and she walks away toward what he assumes is the snack cabinet. “Let’s get out of here and you into bed huh?” 

“You read my mind.” 

—

There’s a stillness in the car as they sit in Tommy’s driveway. 

“Evan, come inside. You’ve had a long stressful day too.” 

It’s like Tommy is inside his head, he doesn’t want to be alone tonight, not when he didn’t have to be. 

“And if the texts you sent me last night are any indication, you also did it all while hungover which I’m sure wasn’t all that pleasant. And, besides, you still owe me at least one dance.” 

“You are practically falling asleep sitting up and you want to dance?” 

“It’s what I was promised.” 

TOmmy reaches over the console between them, turning Buck’s face toward him, leans in and kisses him in earnest. Not quite as intense as their greeting earlier and not as gentle as their first. “Just come inside please,” he says just above a whisper against his lips. 

“Okay.” 

—

Buck takes in Tommy’s little house, it’s cozy with some of its years showing. 

“You can move past the entryway Evan. Just take your shoes off.” 

“Oh,” he replies softly, barely having noticed that he was slightly frozen. He toes off his shoes.

“C’mere,” Tommy holds out his hand, a song that Buck doesn’t know the name of softly drifting from the speakers. He lands in his boyfriend’s arms and it feels like it’s exactly where he is supposed to be. One hand on his neck, the other clasped together in Tommy’s, his other hand resting on his waist. It’s mostly quiet as they sway in the middle of the small living room. 

“You know, I never really got the whole hot firefighter thing until I saw you walk through those doors?” 

“You really are adorable.” Tommy smiles.

“Thank you for today. It means a lot that you did really try your damndest and succeeded.” He says earnestly. 

“Of course. It was important to you.” 

And Buck can’t help but kiss him for that, and he does, because he can. 

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 8. Forms of bitterness

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: smut, fluff, noncon, dom/sub, dom!Feyd, oral (f receiving), felching, cockwarming, and more inkpie (poor reader can't catch a break)

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu

No sweeteners will cloak some forms of bitterness. — Bene Gesserit Coda

He just about dragged her back to his room — their room — half-naked through the halls. She screamed at him and bit and scratched his arm, but Feyd took no notice. He mostly enjoyed it, in fact. When he pushed her into the room and locked the doors behind them, she calmed down. There was no point in fighting him anymore.

Her dress hung on in tatters, slathered around her figure like a spill of ink, her hair in tangles among loosened threads. Feyd hardly wore anything, but what he’d thrown on during their little journey he threw off now in a hurry on his way to her.

“Stop, stop. Enough!”

“You don’t tell me when it’s enough,” he growled as he gripped her by the throat and kept on walking, pushing her toward the bed. “I tell you when it’s enough.”

“You’re a beast, just like your brother,” she hissed.

And as if that were a curse, it weakened all his muscles. He let her go and looked into her eyes, weak and wounded, before the anger came. Feyd clenched his teeth, a pit of shiny black between pale lips, and shoved her. She fell onto the mattress with a huff.

“You’ll pay for that,” he promised, and horrors were rolling behind his eyes, images of what he could do to her even without his daggers — where were they, anyway? He must’ve left them at the dinner table.

But when he reached down and touched her again he found his grip was gentle, almost a caress. She seemed surprised as well and in her wary eyes, he noticed fear. He’d never seen it quite like that before… Not even when they first met. She seemed more determined then, ready to meet death, but now, dazed and aching from what they’d done before, she didn’t seem sure of anything. He held her jaw loosely enough that she could pull herself away if she wished to, but she didn’t.

Feyd looked at the bite marks and bruises he’d left on her and couldn’t help the slight pull of a smile.

“You’re quite the canvas,” he rasped with genuine admiration in his voice. He loved to see the splatter of blood on the white sands of the arena, but she was the closest he’d ever come to making art. “I want to make more…”

“Let go of me,” she whispered and scrambled backwards on the bed. “You’ve had enough fun for one day.”

He followed her onto the bed, then grabbed her ankle and pulled her back toward him. His body covered hers and his lips swallowed her little scream. She tasted sweet and bitter and there was a hint of teeth — his, hers, it was hard to tell; their mouths melded as one. His hands started roaming her body and she nearly jumped in fear or anticipation but he only caressed her. His palms went from brushing up and down her breasts to squeezing them, then travelled lower. He gripped her waist and held her tightly to the bed, possessed her in the only way he really could, and felt her fragile innards giving way beneath his hands. It was a rare thing to feel power over her… To see real fear in her eyes — not of his weapons, not of his status as Planetary Governor, but of him. He had nothing more than his hands and teeth, and she did too, both of them in their naked skin on a black bed, and everything they felt, they felt only for each other.

His hands moved down to cup her hips while he bent down to kiss her. She smelled salty from her tears and her lips were dry and flaky but she was more perfect now to him than she’d ever been before. He moaned against her and finally pulled away, opening his eyes to find her breathless. She frowned up at him from the centre of the soft halo of her hair but Feyd could only smile. There was a sliver of blackness between her lips and he realised with great delight that he had left it there.

“How pretty you are like this,” he whispered, reaching up to brush his thumb across her cheek.

“Why even say that to me?” she muttered, glaring at him.

“I thought you witches were supposed to be clever,” said Feyd with a smirk, but he couldn’t help a certain fondness in his tone. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Enlighten me, Black Sun.”

He brushed the tip of his nose against hers and smiled as he whispered, “Because I want you pretty desperately right now. I’ve wanted you before but seeing you in pain, hearing you scream, tasting it on you…” He sucked in a quick breath as he looked down at her lips with lidded eyes. “And feeling how tight you got all around me… I want that. I want it again.”

She barely had the chance to squirm before Feyd grabbed her by the neck, and although she instinctively held her breath he didn’t squeeze her. He just held her there while he nudged her legs apart and set himself between them. His smooth pale arm was right against her chest and he could feel how warm she was, could feel her heart, and how frantically it was beating. He lowered himself once again to kiss her and then, like a snake, slid lower. He pressed his lips against her trembling chin, then kissed her breasts while his other hand went up to tangle itself in her hair. She groaned when he started pulling on it, but she was a good girl and understood. She bent her head and arched her back for him.

Feyd pulled her puckered nipple in his mouth and sucked on it as if he’d missed it those few minutes since they walked from there to here. And he had. Now that he knew what to expect from her body — what textures, what tastes, how she’d respond to every bit of attention — he could focus only on enjoying the experience. Her nipples had a waxy smoothness to them, a truly special bit of skin, and so sensitive that within seconds of being in his mouth, they hardened. He imagined for a moment how greatly the experience would improve if he could suckle milk from her and he moaned embarrassingly loudly at the thought. His cock hardened again and he brushed it up and down her thigh, but he didn’t let himself get carried away just yet. He had other plans.

He let go of her neck but kept his fist around her hair and as he went lower down her body she was forced to bend. She cursed him and clawed at his arm, her feet pressing down against the bed, but Feyd assaulted her body with kisses as if none of that mattered. As if he was used to taming Bene Gesserit witches like her. He looked up into her eyes and smirked with his lips above her tummy, tongue leaving sticky circles on her belly button, while with his free hand, he cupped her hip to hold her still. She didn’t seem to realise what he meant to do until right before he did it.

“N-no, no, don’t —”

He pressed a deep and loving kiss over her mound and at the top of her slit and then with a stretch of his tongue he was lapping at her clit. She was slathered in a mess of white — from her — and black — from him — and as he closed his eyes and pulled their mixed juices in his mouth he wondered how similar their shades were to the skies of Giedi Prime.

“Ugh, you’re a beast,” she muttered, twisting between the sharp discomfort at her scalp and the pleasure that throbbed through her anew.

“That’s… twice you’ve… called me that,” muttered Feyd between long, suckling kisses at her twitching little nub. “I still have to punish you… But later.”

She was so swollen and flushed, her body opening almost like a flower or the ripe flesh of a fruit. He buried his tongue inside her and she gave a high and girlish yelp that sounded halfway between a sob and laughter. With a gentleness on the cusp of veneration, Feyd pulled her lips into his mouth and kissed around them, pulling out of her the cum he’d spilt before. She trembled in his grasp at the feeling of it being sucked out of her and slinking out. Her back arched, feet scrambling against the black and silky sheets as she twisted herself in even more impossible ways, caught between trying to get away and coming closer.

His chest was pressed into the bed as he half-kneeled between her legs, his body completely forgotten while he focused all on her. The bitterness of his black cum was coated with her sweetness. She’d kept it warm for him. It dripped onto his tongue in dollops and he moaned at the memory of pushing it up into her, of giving her almost more than she could take. And now that he had her at his mercy, twisted in delicious pain while she clung and clawed at his shoulders, he could service her softest parts with his lips and teeth and tongue and he’d never felt more like a man.

When all he could taste was flesh and her cries had petered out to whimpers, Feyd ended his deep kisses with a few long licks at her hole. She cried out more urgently and her nails dug into his skin, and then a rush of shivers that started along her spine rose up to her throat and betrayed that she had cum again.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her clenching hole, soothing it with little kisses that kept her moaning and on edge. “What a sweet thing you are, my darling…”

She whimpered at his words, just like he intended. Her hips twisted, taking her away from him, but Feyd merely moved to kiss her inner thigh. She was wet there too and sticky, her warm skin coated with a mix of sweat, softer in quite a different way than her tender hole had been.

“Nobody gets to kiss you here often, do they?” he asked in a rough whisper. “Or here,” he said, moving up again to chase her most sensitive parts. “Mmmm… What a shame.”

She twitched right before his eyes, both of her holes tightening shyly. Just the sight of it took his breath away. She gave a wordless, weakened moan and pressed her heel against his shoulder, trying to push him off of her again, but Feyd cupped the inside of her knee to hold her still and leaned down to kiss her swollen parts once more.

“S-stop,” she groaned. “Aaah! And l-let me go…”

“Hmmm?” he asked with a cocked brow.

When he looked at her, he understood. She was uncomfortable. He had gripped her hair perhaps a bit too tightly and even the soft bed was not enough to leave her feeling good. He liked seeing her suffer but he told himself he didn’t like a fuss, so he eased the tightness of his fingers and slowly released her from his grasp. The relief in her sigh was almost childish, so endearing. Feyd smiled as he braced himself up on his arms above her.

She was lying tired and supine, her chest heaving, her breasts sore and reddened as if blushing. He braced his arms on either side of her and leaned down to lay one loving kiss on each puckered nipple, ignoring her protesting whimpers. Then, just as he had promised earlier, he slotted himself between her legs while holding her face still before him. He looked into her eyes — fear and anger melded there, hiding something from him — and held her gaze as he pressed his cock into her body once again.

She moaned and arched to get away but Feyd would not allow her. He cupped her jaw with one hand while the other was tangled in her hair. And whether she glared up at him angrily or closed her eyes in pain he was always there, above her, watching every emotion flicker across her face as he went deeper, deeper, into the tight channel that was so familiar now but still so different. She was warmer, even softer, and so, so tender... He could feel her used hole crying around his cock, lathering his balls with cloying, sticky juices. She blushed at the way it sounded when he worked his way up into her, but Feyd couldn’t even find it in him to smile or grin with the smugness he expected to feel — after all, he had done that to her, he’d been the one to bring her to this state, his stern and fierce lady Bene Gesserit... Instead, he was in awe at the sensations, at everything, from the way her body felt beneath him — her vulnerable stomach flexing beneath his, her heart beating quickly, hands clawing at his shoulders — to the blushing sweetness of her face, her shaky voice, her body’s scent, the full experience of her. He half-believed she’d managed to cast some spell because at that moment he was fully enchanted.

With a groan, he reached her end. She cried out a warble of sounds he could hardly make sense of and flexed her body in a last attempt to get away, but Feyd held her. He let his weight press her down just slightly more into the mattress and shushed her whimpers while underneath he spread his knees and positioned himself more firmly.

“Does it hurt?” he rasped in a close whisper, thumb brushing her frown away.

“Y-yes,” she whispered with bubbling resentment, refusing to look into his eyes.

He smiled and let his gaze traverse her face from her creased brows to her red parted lips. Sweat pooled in the small of his back making him shiver, but beneath him, she felt feverishly warm. He pulled back gently and stopped, soaking in the feeling of her core clenching around his tip, then thrust hard into her again. She moaned in pain, or perhaps pleasure, as Feyd built up the pace. He rocked into her body as steadily as a crashing wave but held her firmly in his arms and slowly began to kiss her, sipping at her lips and cutting her sweet sounds short. His muscles trembled from the pleasure of feeling her pain so completely, from the way her intimate parts tightened around him, bruised and battered and sore, to the look of ecstatic agony upon her face and the sound of it that kept pouring forth.

“Shhh… there, there,” he soothed her, his voice low and heavy with the strain of holding back. “Almost done with you… You’re nearly there, aren’t you, my sweet?”

“No,” she pleaded, head shaking side to side between his hands. “No, no, no more, stop!”

He kissed her again and tightened his arms around her, holding her as still beneath him as he could while he started thrusting harder, shoving himself into her body with all the desperation of a man who wished to disappear, to be forgotten. She gasped against his lips, back arching, heart thundering beneath his own, and when he heard her cry out louder and felt her core clench tight enough to hurt he knew that she was close to cumming.

“There you are, that’s it, just a bit longer,” he whispered, kissing now her cheeks, her chin, along her jaw.

“Feyd,” she gasped with eyes closed and head pressed into the mattress, hands clinging to his waist mindlessly even as she seemed to want to pull away.

He cursed and bit into her shoulder when he felt her start to cum. Her hole closed up around him and he couldn’t move, didn’t want to move, and instead allowed her to be shattered by her pleasure. Her cervix nipped at his crown and her lips kissed his swollen sac. Feyd clung to her just as tightly as she held on to him. His own orgasm took him by surprise and he found himself crying out against her skin, his mouth full of her taste and her voice soft and close to his ear. He spread his legs slightly and hers too with the same motion as he settled deeper still, and then after a sudden burst of warmth within his loins, his balls clenched closer to his body and released what cum he had left into her. She gasped at the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside her, at his inky cum filling her again, but she was too weak to complain, too tired to even scratch him. All he heard now were her whimpers and small echoes of his name.

He held her tightly as he spilt his seed then gradually eased off of her. He could taste iron in his mouth — her blood — but if she was in pain he couldn’t see it. When he raised himself up on his elbows she looked dazed, half-asleep, but her lidded eyes looked sated, a feeling he knew all too well. Feyd smiled and kissed her as he eased himself to the side, his cock still held inside her, their mix of cum dripping down onto her thighs. He didn’t notice that his hands were shaking until he brushed the hair out of her face.

“You’re smiling,” she quietly said, her voice reduced to a delicious rasp.

“Mhmmm,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across her lips.

“Why?”

“Your mouth. It’s stained all black and red from me.”

She reached up to wipe her lips of the mix of her blood and his inky residue, but he caught her wrist and laid it down between them.

“I like the way it looks.”

His witch groaned and closed her eyes in something that was meant as disapproval, but Feyd couldn’t find it in him to be upset.

“You can rest now.”

“You permit it?” she asked archly.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I do.”

With a tired smile, Feyd cupped her messy head and tucked it underneath his chin, then he wrapped his leg around her. She was too exhausted to react and he could feel her fast falling asleep, but for a moment it was as if they both felt the same thing. The quiet in the room spoke to them, their skin chilled underneath the same dry current, and under only a thin layer of skin, their blood flowed to the same heartbeat. With the last bit of strength he had, Feyd wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his face into her hair. If he had dreams that night, he wanted them to only be of her.

[lagunaseca2013]

tagged by @valentin1k :3

rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter

my word was RICE and I’m gonna pass along WATER!

I’m tagging @fall0utmind and @hairpinturnn (I don’t have a lot of moots to tag so if u happen to see this on ur dash and want to participate consider this a tag!) (no pressure ofc!)

R — luca coda to honey trap

Really, Vale is being weirder about the whole thing than even Pecco is. Luca supposes he should’ve expected that. Pecco is not usually willing to talk about these kinds of things unless genuinely forced to and Vale is—well, Vale will talk about Marc to anyone who will listen, really. And most people who won’t, too. Luca is solidly in the category of people who have spent a lifetime listening and have learned to tune it out. Either Vale hasn’t realized this, yet, or—more likely—he doesn’t care that Luca is emailing his trainer about modifying his shoulder stretches while he rants.

I — honey trap, marcnaia forced hookups

It had ended with Pecco sinking into Marc, wet, hot, bare, angry, Marc clawing into his back under the neoprene, their sweat dripping everywhere, mixing on their skin until they smelled like one beast. Like Pecco’s deodorant and Marc’s cologne and motor oil and cum, because Pecco had come inside Marc, at Marc’s desperate, gasping insistence, clenching so hard around his cock that he wasn’t sure he could’ve pulled out if he tried. If he’d wanted to. Marc’s own cock wedged tightly between them, heavy and sticky and drenched, because he’d come at some point during the whole ordeal. Pecco had barely registered it because he’d kept begging to be fucked through it.

C — choke yourself out, rosquez reconciliation

Cataloging all the details, all the changes in Valentino he had missed over the years, Marc had felt turned inside out and back again by the decade that had passed between them. The years that had started to show on Vale’s face had been mesmerizing to him when he’d finally been allowed to see them up close. Marc is older now, too. And still not as old as—well.

Marc is older now, but he’s still young. He still wants like he did then, sometimes he thinks his desire only grew in the years he spent pretending it was a dormant, dead thing. Sometimes his desire feels like it’s going to burn him alive, from the inside out.

E — rosquez omegaverse half-bond torture fic

Everyone thinks Marc has had some alpha squirreled away for the last nine years, someone wearing his bite who he won’t bring anywhere near the paddock. Marc has never bothered to correct them. For some, it must be willful ignorance. He and Vale weren’t exactly a secret, even if Vale refused to acknowledge it. Never mind that the amount of time he spent away from his supposed mystery alpha would be considered insane by most standards. Never mind that every journo he’s spoken to since 2015 has done some kind of unethical investigation into his personal life, trying to figure it out.

Every once in a while, Marc entertains the thought of just outing them. Pointing to Valentino in the back of the press room, slouched low with his arms crossed making sure anyone who harasses Bez or implies that Pecco is losing the championship gets fired on the spot. Telling the whole world that their infallible king had sunk his teeth into Marc ten years ago, and hadn’t let Marc bite him back. It’s a comforting fantasy, on occasion, but he’s never really considered actually doing it. The problem is, he’s pretty sure no one would ever believe that Vale had wanted to make Marc his omega.

[ultraericthered]

Nostalgic Lookback: Harry Potter

Alright, I cannot put this off forever (plus it's now Pride Month, so I'd rather not put off addressing the transphobic bully in the room and the stuff made by her until any later.) I have to talk Harry Potter.

I think it was 1999 when Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was selected to be read aloud from on a daily basis in one of my school classes. I didn't really get it at first but as the story went on for day after day, week after week, I got more drawn in to the wizarding world and magical school life that it presented. Despite the controversy over this series of YA novels from puritan-minded evangelical Christians at the time, my mom gave that first book a read to and ended up loving it just as much. With Harry Potter deemed excellent and appropriate reading for the family, I read the second and third book in the series with great enthusiasm, and the much lengthier fourth book that followed through on the dark turn taken in Book 3. Reading about the resurrection of Lord Voldemort and Harry being made to face him once again was such a hype moment for kid me.

Around the holiday season of 2001, the film adaptation of the first book came out in theaters, and it conveniently coincided with when my family started listening to the audio tapes of the books narrated by Jim Dale on our holiday road trips. The film series, to be expected, isn't as good as the books, but they're still quality entertainment that you can tell had a lot of care, heart, and effort put into realizing them and includes many of the finest British actors cast in various roles, most memorably the late Richard Harris as Albus Dumbledore in the first two films, the late Alan Rickman as Severus Snape, the late Robbie Coltrane as Rubeus Hagrid, the late Maggie Smith as Minerva McGonnagle, the still living Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy, the still living Ralph Fiennes as Lord Voldemort, and even the still living Evana Lynch as Luna Lovegood. Stellar performances by all!

There was a two year gap between the release of Book 4 and the release of Book 5 (the books were getting THICK, so I understand), but following the tradition that got set, the new Harry Potter book releases became the Summer Blockbusters of literature, with Book 5 coming out Summer 2003, Book 6 two years after in Summer 2005, and Book 7, the finale, two years after that in Summer 2007.

And for me, the story of Harry Potter, Hogwarts, and the Wizarding World ends at the final defeat of Voldemort and that divisive time skip epilogue. (Okay, The Cursed Child is actually pretty alright as a coda, third act strangeness and all). I felt completely satisfied with the way JK Rowling ending her years long, seven book story - I was in no need for any more. And it actually sort of disappoints me that the series' fanbase was so big, so vast, and so diverse that not everyone felt the same, and thus Rowling started bullshitting with the IP, first with nonsensical after-the-fact political nonsense (What do you mean Albus Dumbledore was gay? Where did that come from? I saw no evidence in the text for that!) and then just franchising the shit out of the "The Wizarding World Of Harry Potter", whoring out more merch, video games, a whole ass theme park at Universal Studios with rides and attractions, spinoff books, trading and playing card games, online stuff, phone app games, that goddamn Fantastic Beasts film trilogy, etc. Enough just could not be enough for her and the die-hard fanbase. And ironically, it just served to dilute away the actual magic of the property. It's diffcult for me to associate all this crud with the formative book and film series that I loved so much in my youth.

Joanne Kathleen Rowling authored the Harry Potter series, and for the imagination, heart and passion, story crafting instincts, and considerable talent in putting it all to pen and text that came from her way back when, I will be forever thankful. But for everything else - and I do mean everything else - I say "fuck you and retire already."

Pride Month reminder: please do NOT pay money for anything Harry Potter related, as JKR will use those profits as funds to donate to anti-trans hate groups and further her radical, cruel, oppressive and nigh genocidal cause against trans people and their allies within the LGBTQ+ community. And if you're to engage with Harry Potter at all, do so with free fan-made content and OC-based works of writing and/or art. All fans of this IP and what it brought you, take YOUR magic back from JKR!

[spaceprincessem]

another lil coda for day 4 of robstar week. i kind of re-imagined the time during the brotherhood of evil plot where the titans were split across the world. loved the idea of the team having lil meet ups and late night calls and just taking whatever they can get to be with each other @robxstar

day 4 - downtime

how we touched and went our separate ways

The hot Nevada sun is just beginning to set beyond the horizon when Robin parks his motorcycle outside of a small diner. There’s a sign right off the road letting passerbyers know that Las Vegas is only 60 miles southeast and Death Valley 50 miles west. 

It’s one of those places no one really notices; a last chance run of the mill restaurant to get something decent to eat before you’re stuck in the middle of the desert. Beast Boy swears by their mac and cheese and rhubarb pie.

(Robin’s not really sure where the hell they get the rhubarb though, but the diner is sitting at a crossroad and stranger things have happened.)

It’s the closest meeting point for the whole team, and despite the short window of time they have before their (seemingly) never-ending mission to unite Titans across the world against the Brotherhood of Evil, they take whatever they can get to see each other.

It’s difficult getting all five of them together. 

The past few weeks have consisted of quick dinners or a few stolen hours in each other’s company. Robin was lucky enough to see Raven a few days ago when they passed through the same town. They got coffee and video chatted with Cyborg before their missions called them away again. 

He hates the team being so divided, but the quicker they get this done the sooner they can all go home. 

And Robin really misses being home. 

They’ve all opted for street clothing in their public meetups, not wanting to draw attention or risk the Brotherhood attacking them during their small moments of peace. 

He’s pretty sure he’s a little early, possibly the first one there until he looks up through the window and spots Starfire sitting at the counter sipping a milkshake. She’s dressed in jeans and a colorful crop top sweater with space earrings Beast Boy gave her as a gift from a shop near Area 51.

Robin swallows the sudden flutter of nerves that never cease to leave him be when he sees her. His heart is equally traitorous, thumping against his chest, pulling pulling pulling him to her. He follows the tug, easily falls into her gravity — her magnetism — like he was born for it.

And sometimes he thinks he was.

They may be from different worlds, but whatever stardust made them is one in the same.

Some Journey song is playing on the Jukebox — Separate Ways (World’s Apart) — and Robin smiles at the irony of it. Starfire is tapping her finger against the glass in time with the music, her focus lazily held by two dude bros tripping over themselves to talk to her. His fingers tap the small of her back and stay there like a warning that the boys clearly take heed of. 

Starfire turns, lips spreading into that dazzling smile as she leans into him, like maybe she’s caught in his gravity too. 

“Hi.” He says, softly.

“Greetings.” She replies, gently laying her hand on his arm.

Being here now, so close and yet never close enough, Robin realizes how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.

He realizes how much he fucking missed her.

He wants to touch and take and taste every part of her, like a man starved for oxygen. With the way her eyes sparkle in the orange hue of the setting Nevada sun he knows that she feels the same.

He’ll never forget the first time they kissed.

It was just after one of their more dangerous missions that required a tag team. The appearance and sabotage of Madame Rouge quickly complicated things and it was one of those rare times they barely made it out alive. 

Robin can still sometimes feel the way his heart ripped right out of his chest when he thought he lost Starfire. When she appeared at his side seconds later, bruised and bleeding, he didn’t stop to think; he simply let his instincts — his wants and desires take over. 

Her blood was sharp and strangely sweet on his tongue, the taste of her seared in his brain forever. The hunger, the dire need to take more more more somehow melted into soft sacredness, like something holy. Robin wanted to take his time memorizing the way her lips perfectly slotted against his own and how kissing her was the easiest thing in the world.

Like they were made to fit this way.

Of course, they couldn’t keep the hunger, the animal desire, at bay for long. He needed her in every way imaginable and she needed him just as much.

They haven’t had time since then to just be. To be around each other and hold each other and enjoy this new step in their relationship. They’ve survived off of late night calls and text messages when they can help it.

Robin’s known for a while that he loves her; something he’s not allowed to say or even think about for too long right now.

Maybe someday. 

Someday.

“Beast Boy will be mad if we order pie without him.” Robin finally says as he takes the seat next to her.

“I have been patiently waiting for you all to arrive.” Starfire chides gently, but her smile takes out any of the heat in her words.

“Here I was thinking I was early.” He grins, leaning in for a quick, soft press of their lips.

Starfire tastes like chocolate malt and whipped cream and something so magical it simply is not made of this earth. She hums against his lips before moving to press her own against the corner of his mouth.

“I believe flying is faster.” She teases.

“Well Raven can teleport,” Robin pouts, “and she’s not here yet.”

As if summoned by her name the small bell on the door rings and they both turn to see Raven heading over to where they are seated.

“I’m right on time.” She says, taking the other seat next to Robin, giving him a pointed look.

He withers a little under her stare, but it’s cut by Starfire’s giggle and Raven eventually giving in by smiling. Cyborg and Beast Boy join them just as the waitress pours Robin a fresh cup of coffee.

“I’ve really missed y’all,” Cyborg says after their order’s been taken. “I’ve even missed BB’s bad jokes.”

“Don’t get him started,” Raven says flatly, but the pink tint to her cheeks gives her away.

“Cyborg,” Beast Boy says dramatically, “have I not added you to my meme chat? I’ll have to amend that immediately.”

Cyborg’s phone pings and he quickly scrolls through it, his shoulders shaking as he tries not to laugh.

“This is just you trying to teach Star how to use memes.”

“And,” Beast Boy grins, “it’s working.”

“Beast Boy recommended we all watch the, and I quote,” Starfire says somewhat seriously, “the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when we all get home.”

“Lord help me.” Raven mumbles.

Robin joins in with Cyborg’s laughter as Beast Boy scoffs in Raven’s direction. Starfire just watches with amusement, her fingers catching Robin’s under the counter for a moment.

“Movie night when we get home,” Robin says, as he picks up his fork with his free hand, “sounds like a good plan.”

His friends all smile in return and they all take their time eating, wanting the night to last just a little bit longer.

“Does anyone know how the hell they get all this rhubarb out here?”

[daryl-and-carol-oh-my]

Where are you at in your giffing project? What's your process I'm so curious! I love seeing your daily gifsets, it makes me smile and I hope you're feeling better! 🫂

Hello, Anon!! Sorry it took me a few weeks to get this ask! My life is crazy, crazy insane right now xD Thank you so much for telling me my gifsets make you smile, that makes me feel really good!! <3333333333333 I'm gonna give an update and try to explain my process under a cut so no one has to read my ramblings unless they want to xD

As a lot of my Caryl friends know, my aunt Dawn had a stroke in January and passed away. She was the heartbeat of my household and my mom took it very hard. My mom's lost all her siblings now and she's slowly working through that grief process </3

The house we live in was under a contract with my Aunt so the last few months my family got together and decided to buy it from the landlord, who was very close with my aunt, and settled on a pretty reasonable price. We all did a deep, deep dive into cleaning the place up and getting those arrangements. It's just me and mom now, it's very quiet lol. But we are doing okay and things seem to be falling into place and going well. <333

I am a little behind now in my season 5 giffing xD I had to pause in all of my projects and resort to screen recording Mad Men, which is my next big project for my @my-ladies-noble gif blog. I also finished screen recording The Crowded Room for the same blog. So I have big plans for making a crap load of Christina Hendricks gifs and more Amanda Seyfried gifs. And the Age of Consent for more Helen Mirren goodness, which is the Muse I am in currently, writing wise. I also have The Beast Must Die all recorded up for my @foreign-bodies gif blog to feed my Jared Harris obsession. xD Gonna finish getting the queue for that filled with Meet Joe Black gifs. I always kinda slow down on the queue if I don't have the next project ready to go or I think I might run out of material xD

I picked up season 5 last night. I am in the middle of editing CODA and once I get that finished, I will load that queue up with No Sanctuary gifs. I'm super stoked to get to Consumed. A lot of darker gifs but I got every single second pretty much and I'm excited to get those out to the masses!!! :D I wanted to be way ahead of editing than I am. I didn't want to have a huge gap between seasons but that's life, I suppose xD

Once I get back into the groove I can usually juggle all the projects at once so nothing runs out, my process is pure insomniac chaos xD I like to have about 9 or ten episodes of TWD ready to go before I start on anything else. This blog is my biggest priority. I love making gifs for all the characters and it's the one thing other than writing that gives me pure joy and life.

Thank for your curiosity, Anon!! I'll be posting regularly scheduled gifsets very very soon again!!! Have a happy weekend, stay well, and safe!! <3333333333333333333

[disabled-dean]

Asterism of an F-Series Ford Pick Up- 17k

Now with BELOVED amv by @butch--dean 🖤

Summary: When you've been to hell, desire is isolating and ugly.

Or: Cas drives his truck for a case and Dean is exceptionally horny about it.

“Once on a hunt when he was a teenager, Dean had been caught too close to an explosive when it had gone off. There had been the moment when the projectile hit, and the moment when it had detonated. And just before it had, there had also been a moment when he had believed that maybe it wouldn’t.

He had thought about that moment for years, over and over again, until something else had taken its place. And the way that that moment was quiet, the way it was still- that is how this feels. To lie beside Cas in the bed of his truck, their shoulders barely touching.”

Follow @deancastruckwip for bonus content <3

Ten Minutes From Home: Lebanon Coda- 71k

What does John see when he looks at Cas?

Cas doesn’t look like a monster.

But neither does Dean.

John stands, slow. He holds out a hand. Calloused like Dean’s hands are calloused. Scarred the same way that Dean’s hands are scarred. There’s the smell of him in the air too. Earthy and dark, slightly sour around the edges. The room feels suddenly choked with it. Claustrophobic.

Cas probably smells like the fabric softener they buy in bulk at Costco, but so does Dean so he can’t tell.

John says, toneless, “I hear you’ve been driving my car.”

. . .

The closer you are to what you want—

Dean's twenty-nine year old mother, his undefined relationship with Cas and their small family. Some kind of impossible reconciliation with John Winchester. Michael, out of his head, without destroying the world. His father's approval. To see the Grand Canyon.

—The more vulnerable you are.

Follow @lebanon-wip for excerpts, inspo, and bonus content, or track the 10MFH tag <3

An Easier Softer Way WIP 38k

Recovery!natural. Injured after the hell rescue goes wrong, Dean ends up disabled and living in a small rural town in Eastern Washington. With Sam fucked off to god knows where and without the fight to distract him, Dean has nothing left to focus on but his burgeoning sobriety, and persistent dreams of hell.

Set in the arid low-lands of the river valley, surrounded by apple orchards and twisting irrigation canals, Dean becomes convinced he can see a great beast stalking through the hills bordering the town. The same beast he has dreamt of since returning from hell, the same one he can sometimes feel beside him when he knows that he’s alone.

Walking the line between grief and reality, isolation and community, Dean has to pull together what's real and what isn't as he adjust to his disability, and finds faith that he is capable of building lasting relationships and creating a life for himself worth loving.

Also eventually Cas shows up, and they save the world.

He’s still debating just getting the fuck out of there when a women at the head of the long table clears her throat, and starts to read from a laminated print out. The edges of Dean’s vision blur out a little. He has to leave. He has to- the woman is still reading. Dean tunes back in in time to hear, “-At some of these we balked. We thought that we could find an easier, softer way. But we could not."  Here, the speaker pauses, and Dean feels like she looks right at him. But she doesn't. She just gives the laminated sheet a little shake, clears her throat and continues, "With all the earnestness at our command, we beg of you to be fearless and thorough from the very start.” And no one could ever call him a coward. So he stays.

Honestly the most plot I've ever worked with (and very deeply personal) so this one could be a while. @aneasiersofterway for inspo, vibes, and bonus content.

[lncarnon]

Conquest never ends. People may become stagnant, wither away within the prize of their atrocities, but the battle for power was one that could never be truly won until all opposition.. died. A feat that would seem impossible- that is impossible, because never could a world exist where all people got along. Ideals would always waver and change, evolve as time went on to go against the status quo no matter how good it all appeared to be.

Through the power of the Anthem, an other-worldly and unexplainable force of nature, one man very nearly had the most control that any living person could ever hope to acquire. However, to call Armas Brom a person at this point was likened to considering a ravenous Ursix as a tame pet. His demeanor is unwavering, even in face of the greatest threats, his training and unnatural attunement to the Anthem as a Cypher gave him each and every thing he could ever require to take power.

As a de-facto leader of the Dominion within its capitol city of Stralheim, not only would his prowess prove him as unmatched in one-on-one combat, the armies at his beck and call would move without hesitation. Between the countless foot soldiers and Relic tainted beasts, the Dominion had proven their lethality time and time again. It isn't until the Monitor completes his ultimate goal of becoming one with the Anthem, does the story truly begin. A power unmatched by the technology they utilized through it, all things wilted beneath his gaze, the very ground shook as he drew forth the fiery hells beneath, and skies turned dark in the wake of a cataclysm.

What was once a pipe dream of unity through violence soon became a reality. With his power, and the realization of said power through the masses, people either fought and perished or relinquished their freedom. Still, it took years before the Dominion claimed every inhabited fraction of Coda. The Monitor overturned entire cities to see the rebellion squashed and likewise rebuilt over the ashes just as easily, his only goal now a reality of which none could deny.

There were still rebellious factions out there, small squads of Freelancers or Outlaws hoping to make a dent in the Monitor's supposed god-like stature. But what are ants, to a God?

-

As the years went by with no significant change in life, that stillness lead to curiosity. With no war to wage there left room for wonderings of other power that lie beneath the beating thrum of the Anthem. People had been whisked away to far away lands and returned with wondrous stories regarding the people they had seen, the plants, the animals. Worlds beyond their own, and though his power is that of existence itself, he still cannot deprive Relics of their design.

If the people of Coda could be taken away, what proof is there that the opposite cannot occur? A threat he needs to get ahead of, if ever there was one, no matter how plausible it may not seem.

His first excursion leads him to a landscape nearly void of life, carved out of a landscape marred by the signs of war, the air itself clawing at his carapace and leaving a pit within his stomach. These people had killed their world with war, there was nothing left. The next Rift takes him to a lush landscape, rife with animal life but nothing of note where even the most primitive thought wafted through the fauna. Perhaps in another million years there will be a people, in this place, but not yet. He won't entangle himself with that responsibility.

The Monitor's third attempt sets him on the edge of a city, his towering bestial form staring out across the great expanse of green to eye the distant towers of thriving life. It reminds him so much of home; what progress had these people made against the turbulence of things outside their control? Turning the long polearm like weapon over in hand, he sticks the blade deep into the soil, enough so that uprooting it would take a considerable effort by any who do not rival his stature.

It is there that the blade remains, as his steps carry him across the landscape in long strides. There isn't any intention to stir the place with fear, just yet, there is a time and place for all things. As soon as the first man-built structure comes into view his next step devolves into a shimmering facade of what he once had been. Nothing more than a gifted man in a suit of armor, and he continues onward, marching towards Piltover with an open mind and dastardly intentions.

[thevikingwoman]

I had thoughts and needed them out. After witnessing the details of G'raha's plan, Meryta feels upset and unsettled and needs some time to think.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 736 | Read on Ao3

Meryta Khatin | Shadowbringers: The Unbroken Thread | angst Rating: Teen. Anger, reflection, MSQ coda, mention of death and dying. Four Lords spoilers too

Choices

Meryta doesn’t go to the Amaro Launch, even though that’s what she tells Lyna when she hands her back the key to the Umbilicus. Instead, she grabs her pickaxe, and sets out for Lakeland. The Facet can always use more ore, and right now the work of it somehow seems appealing.

She does not mine.

Instead, she ends up lying in the flowers, gazing up at the unbearably bright sky. The light cracks inside her head. Endless. Noisy.

Her fault.

No. That’s not true. The Exarch – G’raha Tia, had a plan, with Urianger an accomplice. And it failed. Her part in it was not up to her, and not discussed. If she’d known, perhaps she could have…

She closes her eyes against the burning light. It doesn’t stop. She wonders if the light leaks out of them, like it leaked into her limbal rings after they killed the Lightwarden in Amh Araeng. If anyone would notice it, in the brightness all around.

She is tired and motionless and has given up on the pretense of mining. She thought moving her body would feel good and she briefly considered pulling a mark from the board – but it would be worse, if she got killed by some powerful beast, which could absorb her aether and become a most terrifying Lightwarden. Ravaging through the land, set upon the Crystarium.

So, instead she grabbed her pick and now she lies here.

She should be dead.

No.

G’raha should be dead, had planned to die, so she could live.

The light is so very loud inside her skull and she wants to scream, her hands fists at her side, tears running down her face.

They made the choice for her, as if she’s some kind of child.

The stillness sweeps over her, she can’t even hold her own anger, the suffusing light too oppressive, too heavy. She thinks of Tenzen, who gave his life to save the world – his world; her world. Binding Koryu at the cost of his life, making that choice because he had to. Because he wanted to. The memory of him living on through stories, and through his beloved auspices. The auspices who loved him, loved him enough to trust him to make that choice for himself.

Is she not loved enough to do so?

Mayhap that isn’t fair. Mayhap it would have worked, had it not been for Emet-Selch’s interference. Bastard acian. Perhaps there would have been no other options, their plan the best course of action. Except – why does she get to live? The fervent description of her legacy, the way G’raha spoke of the hope she will bring. Would have brought to a broken world. A legacy that may not come to pass. All of their plotting to make sure she survived, as is she is somehow more important than anyone, because of what he’d learned of her in the future they worked so hard to not come to pass. She’s not that person. She didn’t choose to be that person, not yet. Did Tenzen choose his legacy or did it choose him? At least no one made the choice for him while he was still living.

Perhaps she should thank Emet-Selch, and this only fuels her anger. All for naught, and she’s halfway glad of it. The plan so intricate, and yet so very simple. Take the light. Go off and die. All these scholars and she just has her weapons and her fight - and yet they choose for her to live instead of them finding a solution, consulting Y’shtola, Alphinaud, anyone. Instead of asking her.  

She fists her hand in the blanket of flowers beneath her, tears them out in clumps. Grass, flowers, trees above.

Blinding light inside out.

Anger burning in her chest, drowned by the light.

An acian with a gun.

She knows what she must do.

She will go and find G’raha, as she promised Lyna. She will kill Emet-Selch if she has to. And she’ll save G’raha, and she will take the light wherever he intended to, into a rift, and save this world too. They will have to let her, have to help her do this. She will make that choice.  Not G’raha, not Urianger, nor any other friend who’d try to stop her.

She will hold on to the light, keeping it locked inside her a little longer.

Long enough for her to make her choice.

[hlcevr-tech-support]

so I actually have 1/2 question(s).

so I’ve seen clips around of “ALYX but the gnome is real” or something, (the guy sounds vaguely like Gordon, but it’s apparently some other guy, also I heard someone say that the Channel the stream originally came from was taken down because of a real disappearance case??? That part 99% fake but I heard it!) I personally think it’s just some people playing around with mods, can you shed some light on this?

(Second question is optional because I’m not sure if you’ve heard of this, but a friend sent me a Reddit post (I’m not on there myself) about by some guy that -mid breaking bad RP(of all things)- ai started spawning into his Gmod world, and that they WERE breaking bad characters somehow, I can’t tell if that’s more or less realistic then the gnome thing)

Well the obsidian seal mentioned in the series is 100% real. We have documented proof of its use in the development of various games in the Half Life series. Due to an age clause, it’s technically okay to use despite some obvious dangers that the seal provides.

As for the gnome itself…Yeah I dunno.

Source 2 is a vastly different beast from Source. Getting Source games to run on the CE Custom Engine is already difficult, so I imagine that getting Source 2 games to create a Self-Aware AI through that engine would be more difficult. I mean, we know from at least one other forum post that AI can enter the physical realm. We just don’t know how likely the opposite is. If we had a copy of the streamers file, we could do some deep-dive sleuthing to prove if any of it was real, but we just can’t talk to him.

Unfortunately, like Player_8675309 (the original streamer for HLVRAI), the person that did the gnome videos is very hush-hush on social media and I’m pretty sure only has Discord and Twitch. Funnily enough…everybody in the Tech Support group and the HL:CE developer server has been joking for a while now that the Gnome Streamer sounds like Soupy. We can’t prove it’s him, nobody has personally asked him, and it’s 100% in his right to not tell us if they are the same person…but it is VERY funny to think about.

So ya, soup man. If you’re reading this, could you release Gnome Files pls and tank u? Jk jk

Also I don’t have anything for the Breaking Bad RP. I would wager it more likely since GMod already shows vast crossover capabilities, at least in terms of getting GMod Addons into HL:CE.

-Coda

[laaaaaarwood]

Review of 'The Bad Fire' by Mogwai

I was slightly worried that Mogwai had hit a point of staying in the same place, this wasn’t a massive bother to me as the way they make music has always appealed to me very deeply, but their last album (2022’s As the Love Continues) left me wondering if they had anywhere further to explore. That’s not to say it was bad at all, in fact i loved it, but it was very similar to the record they had put out a few years earlier (2017’s Every Country’s Sun), which wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for Mogwai’s prior discography being so different, album-to-album. Despite having only 2 years separating them, 1999’s Come On Die Young and 2001’s Rock Action showed incredible growth and fearlessness in their approach to making guitar-lead music, not to mention the impressive change from Rock Action to 2006’s Mr Beast, so although i enjoyed it, their last record left me wanting a lot more. The Bad Fire i think is a very good antidote to that. There is so much variation to this album, there is range from one track to the other that I would usually expect to find albums apart, but everything here belongs very snugly.

We start off with the mysterious synth-pop style God Gets You Back, a tense but euphoric track that sets the record off with a nervous atmosphere that gets more and more relaxed as the song goes on, with lyrics written by Barry Burns’ seven year old daughter and sung through a mysterious airy vocoder. It didn’t blow me away but as first singles go and as album opener’s go, this was a good start. It was once track 2 ‘Hi Chaos’ began playing that I was overjoyed, this is a moody and gloomy number, lead by layered clean-tone guitars in the verses and soaring delay heavy tremolo picking in the chorus, it gave me the feeling of floating down a river that’s just rougher than one would like it to be, with a sky that darkens in front of your eyes. I love this track, the drums are steady and firm, these strong driving guitar melodies layered on top of one another undercut by this stunning chorus, and then the final coda of the song getting more and more intense, it’s like the guitar is exploding, and then on top of that these wonderful high synth keys, it’s a work of magic, i immediately knew this would be a favourite.

A song i wasn't so immediately fond of is the third single ‘Fanzine Made of Flesh’, while being very upbeat, the verses feel a bit empty, this isn’t so much a problem with the song itself as much as it is just wishing there was a bit more going on in those patches, this itch is scratched by the manic arpeggiated synth in the chorus, screaming and shouting as it does in a way that shouldn't work, but it’s so outrageous and fast that you can’t help but dance, this song is definitely a grower, it’s a Mogwai song that wouldn’t be out of place at a houseparty, which i suppose for a band like them is impressive in its own right. 

Now we come to my favourite track on the album, ‘Pale Vegan Hip Pain’ is nothing short of tear jerkingly beautiful, a simple 3 chord pattern played on the gloomy low end of a heavily reverb’d Telecaster, and with a steely cold piercing lead guitar on the high end. This song takes you on a lonely walk through a city at midnite, stopping to look upwards at the sky in the chorus to give a feeling of hope if ever possible. This is Mogwai at their most atmospheric and it just serves to show how amazing they are at that, those whispery synth soundscapes complimenting the lead lifts you off the ground, ever so slightly.

 ‘Hammer Room’ is an interesting one, all over the place, stylistically. We’ve got plucked violins, glitchy drum-machine beats, and almost ska pattern from Martin on the real drums, the most chaotic track on the album, like being trapped inside a pinball machine, it’s weird describing a Mogwai song as ‘fun’ but that’s really what this one is.

The album rounds off nicely with the 7 minute dreamscape ’Fact Boy’ which, to me, is Mogwai’s very own The One with the Wurlitzer if that makes any sense. It is a dreamscape, it doesn’t necessarily have a direction, it’s just a lovely chord progression and focuses more on how many textures it can fit into this one chord progression, and when the violin starts, it’s absolute magic. My only complaint is that it doesn’t last longer, this track could have easily been 10 minutes long and nobody would’ve minded. The Bad Fire is Mogwai’s best work in a long time, if nothing else it is a wonderful showcase of how versatile, creative and beautiful they can be when presented with tough times. It’s mellow, loud, melancholic, devastating, uplifting, moody, but warm throughout. A great listen for so many occasions, but best enjoyed with an active imagination and loud loud headphones. I really hope Mogwai make music for ever and ever.

[enduringdevotion]

The sudden hands on him, the way the other shoved and moved him with intent had the smaller male's eyes widening in shock. When lips all but devoured him he tensed at first, trying to process what was happening, what had he said-

Before nothing mattered. Not trying to figure out what he'd done, what he'd said, if it was wrong, if he'd ruined everything he actually cared about for the first time in his life. He was being kissed, claimed, devoured, the very act coaxing his body to arch, his arms to loop around the other's frame, to cling like a hapless harlot to the man above.

When lips leave he chases a moment, black eyes cracking open, breaths hitching back into deprived lungs, filling where air had been all but wrenched from his living frame. Words filter in, caught by greedy hands tugging them to his chest, carving each letter into his very soul.

He was wanted. He was all but yelled at for saying terrible things about himself. The other was afraid but desired just as he did.

When lips return he's meeting their intensity this time, dazed but desperate, having longed for this since the Coda, since seeing the corpse on the ground, since seeing the tormentor dead for good.

Since seeing someone be strong for him.

Then the other's mirroring his fear, lips part to shoot the fears down, to assure the other it won't happen, but he's silenced, forced to witness as he'd made the other witness. For once, he was totally okay with being silenced, with falling quiet and simply relenting to the eb and flow of the world, to simply take in information and do no more.

It takes a moment for him to see the tears, hands leaving the other's back to claim his face in an echo of the other's on his own skin, a mirror of equal hope, longing and fear, pain and desire. The world blurs around the face of his hero, his angel, a blink reveals he too is crying, face marred with the roiling emotions of the lost finding home.

I love you.

Words Nicholas never thought would ever be cast to him with such earnest heart behind them. He doesn't fight the face hiding in his chest, arms bundling the tall frame close as he chokes on words. He can't speak, was never good at it when the beast of feelings raked claws through every organ in his body.

They remain like that a moment longer, both rattled from everything. Until finally the smaller paws at Xuanyu, the wolf scrambling to tug him up gently, to claim his lips. The words that fall from his lips aren't quite English yet, but he's trying. The emotion is deep, a pool of love escaping as he peppers shaken kisses along warm skin, brushes fingers under tearful eyes and slowly, oh so slowly, finds his words.

"I love you too... Fuck, I'm not good at words like you, but that's what I want! took it right from my head and laid them on the table." Each words crackles around little hiccups and soft coughs. "I don't want there to be a life without you." He was lost before, especially after Vash killed himself.

But with Xuanyu, he felt like he's been found.

"Wont get bored or hate, I can't I can't-"

He's still a little shaky and uncertain, but nonetheless he pushes the fringe back from his face and tips his head forward, eyes closed... despite all the nervousness, clearly trusting.

Nicholas has a point... but Mo Xuanyu's father's sect were the very uppermost pinnacle of society. What you aspired to be like, to be accepted by... everything he could accomplish hinged on fitting into that environment, otherwise there was no good thing to even come of his birth. It's hard for him to think that they are wrong and he isn't, especially when he's the only one who has so much trouble, fails at every turn be it social or in his cultivation.

Wouldn't it be too presumptuous?

He's not completely blind-- he can see Nico's smile, he can see the flush on the other man's face-- and he has no doubt whatsoever that the kisses they've shared are real. It's just so hard to wrap his head around it, when he's spent so long being unlovable even by those who once did love him. When his existence was nothing but a burden at best, loathesome at worse, and everyone would rather him just be dead, the only reason to mourn being the lack of a punching bag.

How could anyone see this kind of worth in him? It was all but impossible to comprehend, even with all the evidence, even with Nicholas' words...

The confession doesn't faze him in the least.

If anything, there are some parts that make him like Nicholas even more-- he can't help that he finds the idea of the man coming back as a demon after something he shouldn't have survived so incredibly attractive just as a concept--

I fucked someone I called my brother.

Mo Xuanyu's ears ring-- that's it, that's all he needs to hear, that's the only thing he needs to latch onto. That very thing, the accusation that had placed the nail in the coffin of his former life-- it was different, sure, Nico and Livio weren't actually brothers, there wasn't the exact same weight, the same horrible taboo to it, but still--

Still.

It's enough.

Mo Xuanyu sits there, white noise filling his mind, Nico's words filtering in and out as something clicks into place like a key into a lock, and at the same time as he realizes that maybe Nico won't care so much about the allegations, he realizes for the first time that they can't possibly be all that true in the first place.

He'd harrassed his own brother, they said, tried to have his way with him, he'd desired that sort of thing to the point where he couldn't control himself...

Only...

Mo Xuanyu hadn't really been able to refute that before. He didn't know if he could trust his own feelings. Had he just missed something again? Time went by, he'd started thinking he really had, he'd really wanted that kind of thing. Now, he suddenly realizes that whatever feelings he might have had for his brother, however he really felt, it certainly wasn't the way that everyone talked about it.

The heat in his skin, the infuriating prickle, the way it felt like lightning bolts were striking him and fireworks were being set off inside his stomach, that all-consuming urge he could barely hold back to grab hold, pull close, feel the touch of skin against skin, the way that every time he looks at Nicholas he can't help but think that he'd like to peel those layers of clothes off of him, how dare he be so ridiculously tempting and infatuatingly charming and charismatic at once--

He had never, not once, felt like this toward his elder half brother.

If this was what it was to desire-- and this felt far more like those flowery emotions described in romance novels-- then this was new. It was different.

When that confession left Nico's lips, it struck that distorting mirror set up within Mo Xuanyu's mind at the same time and made it shatter.

And Mo Xuanyu realized he doesn't want to hear another word of Nico talking about how he's terrible, or how he's afraid Mo Xuanyu doesn't like him, won't like him, will end up hating him--

Fear keeps him contained within himself so often that whenever his emotions overflow beyond that, it's violent, messy, and uncontrollable. Before he heven has the chance to think of what he's doing, he's caught hold of Nico's shoulders, spun him around, pressed him up against the wall and kissed him. Deeply, vigorously, even deeper than back in the coda, even more intensely than just outside it-- nothing whatsoever like the little pecks and hesitant presses of the past few weeks-- this is like he wants to suck all the breath out of Nico's lungs, tie up his tongue so he can't say those sorts of things anymore.

When he pulls back, his hair's messed up, his pupils are blown out all the way to the edges of his irises, and his face is once more azalea-red.

"Don't say that," he whispers, breathlessly, "Don't say you're not good, don't say you're terrible. You're... you're the best person I've ever met, I've never-- I've never felt this way either. I... I'm always afraid, terrified, I don't ever want to make the first move, and all of this... all of this is so much, so fast, I feel like everything I've ever known is burning down around me. It's terrifying. But I love it. I..."

He's kissing him again, blood rushing to his head, just as deep as before, hands clasped one on either side of Nico's face to pull him even closer.

"I don't want it to stop. I feel like I'm alive, I feel like I have something to live for-- I'm so scared it won't last, that I'm hoping for too much, that I'm wanting too much, that I don't even deserve to dare to think you'll stay, you'll want me... That I don't deserve to want you. That you'll get bored of me, or that you'll decide you hate me too... but it's too late, it's all too late" -- another kiss, this one shorter, but he still doesn't want to give it up any time soon--

"I'm already stuck here, there's no way to save myself even if you do throw me out, I don't have anything else and I don't want anything else. I want to stay... I want this to stay. I want to stay with you for my whole life. I want to... I want to do this, but I want to go on journeys to see places we've never seen, I want to spend quiet days painting or reading or playing music, I want to lie on the grass and hold your hand and... and look up at the clouds as they pass. I want to fly a kite, and eat the best food in this entire city, and... I want to find you the most beautiful clothes and blindfold you until I've put them all on and then take it off so you can see yourself and see that you're beautiful and really very, very attractive--"

He's panting now, the endless simmer of emotions now reached a rolling boil, tumbling down his cheeks in tears and lighting up his skin in a flush.

"I've never... I've never felt like this before. About anyone. Ever... I didn't know feeling like this was possible," he says, and his voice is shaky now, wavering, his fingers gripping the fabric of Nico's shawl. "I like you, Nicholas Wolfwood. I... I love you. I want us to be... I want you to... I... I want to spend this life, in this place, with you... I want... I want to be happy. I want you to be happy, I want us to be happy, and I want it... I want it to be together."

He presses his head down now, against the skin of Nico's chest, still holding on tightly.

And then breaks down sobbing.

[tinkertoysdamn]

Guardians of the Galaxy Fic Master List

The Legendary Star-Lord Will Return Series

I Read It In the Papers

The first in the The Legendary Star-Lord Will Return series. A character study of Peter Quill's Grandfather and of Peter once he returns to Earth.

Track #4: In the Meantime

The second story in the series aka the one where Mantis accidentally starts a cult.

The King of Wishful Thinking

The third in the series. Peter Quill goes on a heist adventure with Gamora and Thor, romance and hilarity ensue.

It's a Dirty Job (But Someone's Gotta Do It)

The fourth in the series. Peter Quill is the new liaison between the Avengers and S.W.O.R.D. He gets roasted for it.

It's Not Time to Make a Change

The fifth in the series. The elder Quills visit Knowhere.

Systematic Drug (Collectively, Unconsciously Composed)

The sixth in the series. Peter Quill must testify before Ashirem the Judge over the worth of humanity. A crossover with The Eternals.

The Weight of Living

The Seventh in the series. Peter has to deal with the fallout from Arishem's Judgement. Good thing he's not alone.

You Stick Around, I'll Make It Worth Your While

The Eighth in the series. Nick Fury recruits Peter to clean up the aftermath of Dar-Benn's rampage with the help of some new and old friends.

Other GotG Stories

Saturday Night's Alright For Fightin'

The Contest of Champions AU based on The Grandmaster's plan in KOWT. Starring a disapproving Beta Ray Bill. OT3 fic.

Nice Day for a White Wedding

The one rated M fic based on the Disney XD continuity. Loki kidnaps Peter with a "proposal" and Peter tries to squirm out of it with legalese. Badly. He is so terrible at this.

The Tragedy of Uncle Taserface

A character study of a minor villain. (could be read as part of TLSLWR series)

She's a Little Bit Dangerous

A Five Times fic. Five Times Gamora was intrigued by Peter Quill and one time it happened in We Built This City 'verse

Oh Brother, Brother I Can't Get Through

A Mantis and Peter sibling short fic

You Know They're Bragging About Your Sugar

Starmora, set after What If...? S2E4

When The Rain Washes You Clean You'll Know

A Five Times fic...for Ego the Living Planet. A villain POV fic.

Listen to the Wind Blow, Down Comes the Night

Mourning comes in many forms. A Rocket and Peter friendship fic.

But a Beast Is In the Heart

Starmora. Sometimes, Gamora feels like a monster.

Little More Time is All We're Asking For

A Coda to What If? S2E2. Scott Lang breaks into Hank Pym's house and gets more than he bargained for.

And I'm Tired of This Town Again

Starmora. The Villain Parents Aren't Evil Just Embarrassing and For Some Reason Everyone Goes to School in Missouri AU

Where Was Your Watchmen Then?

Mantis becomes ill during a mission.

Waiting For a Star To Fall

Thorquillmora. Fusion with Stardust. Thor and Gamora must race against each other and time to capture a fallen star. Too bad he's really uncooperative. Link may go away if the rating goes up but Peter really is being a bit of a turd this time around so--

Pleased to Meet You (Hope You Guess My Name)

Peter Quill and Death walk into a bar. A Crossover with Agatha All Along.

What's Your Work? What's Your Game?

A Starmora Beauty and the Beast Fusion AU

We Built This City 'verse:

We Built This City

A Rule 63 'verse story. 2014!Gamori needs to work with the GotG to rescue the daughter he didn't know he had, which means working with the woman his other self left behind.

And I'm Feeling Good

The second We Built This City story. Brandy Quill is doing a honeypot operation and Gamori's stopped talking to her. They are both dumb about this feelings thing.

Texarkana

The third We Built This City story. An alternate Thanos misses his family after his victory in Infinity War. Unfortunately for Brandy Quill, he has his eyes set on hers.

Escape (oh god, not this song)

Thorquill, crossover with the Loki TV series, fits into no continuity. XD Pairs with We Built This City

Loki needs a variant Thor to help him on a mission and immediately regrets the one he finds.

Stereo Hearts

Thorquill, crossover with the Loki TV series. Sequel to Escape and We Built This City.

Ramble On

Thorquill, the course of true love never did run smooth, not even for the Goddess of Thunder.

Tumblr Only:

The Favor - Thorquill short

Silly and short about stealing a kiss or "favor."

Untitled Starmora Short

Inspired by the prompt "too many beds." Short and sad.

How Could You?

Answer to sad short story prompt. A young Mantis sees something she shouldn't.

Edit: Updated as of 3/2/25

Smut will not be directly linked to from this blog but....it does exist

[aashiqeddiediaz]

Hi! I'm new in the buddie world, and i'm looking for some fanfic, do you have any raccomandation? Thx

Hey there! Sorry it took me a hot minute to get on this one:

Here’s a few people I’d recommend point-blank anything they write even before reading it ajdskdjaksd, and my favourite fics of theirs linked (first link is their AO3, second is their tumblr). 

This is going to be huge so.....putting it under a cut:

madamewriterofwrongs - @madamewriterofwrongs

Radio Silence (M)

Buck gets hurt, makes some confessions, and the aftermath of it unfolds a few new things.

Vena Amoris (G)

HandWRITING <3

Love Me Well (G)

Soulmate AU, Buck and Eddie meeting in multiple lives, would die and collapse for this fic always.

Burn the Pads of My Fingers (G)

I would die for all things touch-starvation related so yeah, that’s this.

spinningincircles - @tylerhunklin

only hymns upon your lips (NR)

soft kisses. that’s it. that’s the description

two black eyes from loving too hard (NR)

Buck’s too good for his own good, with unfortunate consequences sometimes.

look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit (NR)

Eddie just loves Buck’s eyes, okay?

florenceandthemachine - @florenceandthemachine

the beast you’ve made of me (T)

The werewolf!Buck fic written from Eddie’s POV; would die for this one too

sing me to sleep (T)

Major Character Death fic which I am solely lacking in spades and I loved this one.

cutting down the family tree (G)

High School AU in which Buck’s the quiet kid, invisible to everyone except Eddie.

oneawkwardcookie - @oneawkwardcookie

Two Lefts Make a Right (G)

They are BALLROOM DANCING i might be extremely biased for certain reasons

The Next Stage (G)

Eddie’s trying to battle his grief, and Buck shows him he doesn’t have to do it alone

Red and Black (G)

In which colors make me sob

gracieli - @gracieli

strong are the threads (G)

Friendship bracelets and soft boys, enough said

just another day (G)

Time travel with introspection, angst, and happy endings

woodchoc-magnum - @woodchoc-magnum

let me roll it to you (M)

Buck and Eddie are idiots about their feelings for each other and jealousy is on the freaking rise.

lead me to your door (M)

Buck tries to start dating again...the world sucks but Eddie doesn’t. More idiocy from these two

don’t let another day go by my love (G)

Buck basically corrupts the kids with wholly innocent intentions of cupcake stealing

the smoke in your eyes (M)

Buck and Eddie get caught between an arsonist - mystery/thriller that I love to the death

SevenSoulmates - @sevensoulmates

Time Makes You Bolder (Children Get Older) (NR)

Future fic set when Buck and Eddie are old, and in an old folks home; I swear to God this fic makes me want to sob so hard.

Objects in the Mirror (E)

In Your Eyes AU where Buck and Eddie have a telepathic emotional connection: ranges from childhood to post-canon, and includes a retelling of canon 

Don’t Take My Sunshine Away (M)

Eddie’s in a coma and wakes up to find his parents trying to get custody of Christopher

throughfire - @through-fire​

everything that goes right (G)

Buck finds Eddie, even when he doesn’t have a full grasp on himself

nothing here but light (G)

Buck has a few realizations, maybe panics, Eddie’s calm about it, and they confess things

can’t fight that feeling (E)

Softness and introspection and them just stepping into a new thing together ugh i love it so MUCH

when the hardest part is over (G)

Coda to 3x15 that ripped my heart out

And here is a list of a few more that I would, again, die for, with tumblr URLs if I know them hehe (in no means exhaustive, there are many more):

you are my favourite fantasy (T) by @eddiesdiaz 

Buck realizes a couple of things when he sees the PTA moms

opus thirty-five (T) by @extasiswings

a cellist!Eddie fic, inspired by this one of @tylerhunklin’s

a line drawn in the sand (T) @crazyassmurdererwall 

Eddie loses track of his schedule, but it gives him an excuse to go after what he wants

a leaf falls on loneliness (NR) by iimpossible_things

Buck’s struggling with nightmares and what his place is, and along the way, meets a new friend...and changes an old one into something new.

our deal (M) by @reyescarlos

FWB but also feelings because it’s Buck and Eddie 

Won’t Go Home Without You (G) by @alienofficial

Future Fic, MCD, I cry every time

so show me (family) by @cinematicnomad

Eddie puts together a few pieces from the stories Buck tells him, including what’s missing, and resolves to do something about it.

ride it like a roller coaster (E) by @tari-aldarion

Buck’s thirst results in actual shenanigans which is extra valid (pure smut)

[semi-imaginary-place]

thoughts on Nier: Replicant ver. 1.22 Ending E and an explanation for people playing Replicant ver 1.22 going "Oh its that thing from Nier: Automata"

spoilers for ALL of Nier: Replicant ver 1.22, Automata, Drakengard, and Drakengard 3

so let’s start of the beginning. God is evil, that’s the Flower in DoD3 and the angels DoD1. When Caim and Angelus brought the Beast Queen in our world/another iteration of our world, that caused all the problems of Nier. Researchers as we see in the notes on Project Gestalt, the Hamelin Organization, etc. learned to integrate magic from that world into our world’s technology which is how replicant/gestalt and android technology. The big tree you see in Replicant/gestalt is like a cloud storage server that contains the data collected from people from Project Gestalt. Project Gestalt also developed the androids used to manage the whole system. Like 10,000 years or something in the future aliens invade and develop the machines you fight in Automata. The machines continue after the aliens die out and develop a obsession with humanity and replicating humanity. Some way or another the machines managed to get a hold of the data which is what we see in the final endings of Automata.

As such the reason we see the angelic language throughout all of these games is because they all come from the same source and have been transmitted/infected throughout the course of these stories. So to reiterate Caim and Angela brought the Grotesquerie Queen and magic to the Nier world which was then integrated into the technology used in Project Gestalt and thus both the androids and the divine tree. the remnants of gestalt data continued to be used for android development and project yorha and at some point the machines managed to get a hold of it and remade themselves around it in the pursuit of becoming human.

This why in Ending E of Replicant ver 1.22 we see an area that resembles the Copied City shown in Automata, or more accurately the copied city resembles the data within the divine tree because it is data that Adam copied/derived from that original data that was originally stores in the Divine Tree. The Divine Tree stored data on humans from their memories to their personalities to their bodies, but it also stored data on all of human civilization, the world. You can see the cityscape in ending E, its data the Tree has stored on cities of the 21st century.

This is also why the digital environments we see in Replicant ver 1.22′s ending E and the digital environment/hacking zone from Automata look the same. Its like navigating a windows 7 and a windows 10 pc. they mostly work the same because they’re both windows. androids were made as a part of project gestalt and so the androids, the yorha server, and the big tree are running on the same thing. And then the machines copied the androids/corpse of the big tree which is why their hacking space also looks the same.

Its the same with the big flower at the end of Ending E. When I first read that a the end of the short story I remember being like... wat. but yeah same deal is going on.

also. In nier replicant/gestalt some people seem to have confused the robots in that game with the machines in automata. To those people I say remember that nier replicant/gestalt was published many years before automata was even conceptualized, so the writers didn’t know that the term “machine” would gain a very specific definition. the robots in nier were developed alongside the androids. They might not have had the same developers just like an iphone and a boeing 737 don’t share a development origin but they are of the same technological era. Though given the capability for intelligence and emotion that even simple mining security robots like beepy show, maybe robots and androids do share the same origins. idk and its not important. the aliens and thus machines did not come for many thousands of years later. the point is that THE ROBOTS OF NIER HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE ALIEN MACHINES OF AUTOMATA.

and now finally to my closing point. coda to my previous posts of what it means to be human and my monogatari series post on which is more valuable the original or the imposter, existence precedes essence. humans are gone and we are all that remains the repeatedly recreated body data that was never meant to gain a will of its own, the human souls whose data will inevitably be corrupted, and the androids who were created in the image of humanity. and then we have the machines who literally have an origin that is out of this world. and the origin doesn’t matter. its the juxtaposition of those lines that are drawn the result in the end. that’s where the oof of 9s finding out yorha and machine cores are the same. the games start us off with the assumption that were is some fundamental underlying difference between human(replicant) and shade, android and machine. but those differences are arbitrary, both shades and replicants are are capable of loving, protecting, hating, and killing. I doesn’t matter that replicants were suppose to be empty shells, that they were never suppose to awaken. That’s why its powerful that we play through the game as something that was never meant to be a person. Then the player realizes that they are fighting the version of the protagonist that they played as in the prologue, because in the end there is no meaningful difference between the two, neither is more right or wrong than the other and neither is less a person than the other and the tragedy of it is that this confrontation will end in the annihilation of one of them.

(oh and last thing, the in lore reason we see nier bosses in the yorha dark apocalypse ffxiv raid series is because memories of those bosses were recorded by nier and kaine and stored in the divine tree who’s data the machines eventually got their hands on.)