#songs of yesterday fic

[felsicveins]

We're a lethal combination, too lost for therapy

[matchingbatbites]

Eddie kisses Steve for the first time to Whitney Houston.

It's the summer of '87, and he's been dragged along to celebrate Robin's birthday with her, Steve, and Nancy, and the four find themselves at at gay club in Indy where the music is always loud and the people are usually friendly.

They’ve been here for a couple of hours, and Eddie has been at the bar for about ten minutes, taking a breather from the chaos of the dance floor. 

He’s just debating hopping back into the fray when a familiar intro starts, and he immediately searches out Steve in the crowd. Eddie may be a metalhead, but even he can't deny the talent that Whitney Houston has, and I Wanna Dance With Somebody is a god-tier song.

(Ignoring the fact that it quickly became Steve's favorite song, the younger cranking the volume and belting the lyrics any time it comes on the radio, something that makes Eddie melt every time he gets to witness it.) 

Eddie finds him in the crowd, along with Robin and Nancy, the three pressed close as they get visibly excited by the familiar music. He can see them singing along to the first verse, the crowd in the building drowning them out, and when the chorus hits, Steve and Robin pull Nancy into dancing with them.

Somehow Steve's eyes catch his, hazel meeting brown from across the dance floor, and Steve is beaming as he sings along, and fuck Eddie is so smitten. He watches Steve dance with the girls, keeps expecting his attention to turn back to them at some point, but his focus stays on Eddie.

The song moves into the second verse and Eddie's heart jumps into his throat when Steve points at him before making a ‘come here’ motion while still mouthing along with the lyrics. 

Eddie is halfway across the floor before he even realizes he's moved. He's making a beeline to Steve, eyes never wavering from the other as he slips through the mass of bodies, and the grin doesn’t budge from Steve's face, only gets bigger the closer Eddie gets.

As soon as he's in reach, Steve is grabbing his arm, pulling him closer as he yells a "Dance with me?" over the music. And Eddie is no dancer, but he says yes just to keep the smile on Steve's face, and god, is it blinding.

He lets Steve take the lead, mostly just enjoying the closeness, the casual touch, but he still finds himself singing along by the time the chorus rolls into the bridge.

And then there’s that line again, the one that had him speeding through the crowd, the one Steve sang, sings again, while looking directly at Eddie.

I need a man who'll take a chance

On a love that burns hot enough to last

And Eddie finally gets it. He slides a hand to the back of Steve’s neck, fingers tangling in soft hair as he tugs him forward, lips pressing to Steve’s ear so he can be heard over the music.

“I wanna take a chance, Stevie. Will you let me?”

He barely gets a glance at Steve’s shocked face before that blinding smile is back and Steve is nodding. 

“Fucking please, Eddie.” 

[lesbicosmos]

the world if 13 had met rose and/or river

[misfithive]

wilmon x the sun is in your eyes x jacob Collier

I'm obsessed w @enjoythesilentworld fic For the Trees Sake it's so soft and sweet wilmon i'll never shut up about it and this song was mentioned and it made me sooo emo /pos i had to make an edit :3

[agentravensong]

thinking about lex foster.

she has the Gift. she can pull a gun from the void. as a child, she was friends with an eldritch entity. in one timeline, she defeats an avatar/incarnation of another eldritch entity to save her sister.

but, there, that's the thing: lex has a younger sister, who is even more gifted. that sister is the lynchpin of the multiverse. and lex is her protector.

that sister, hannah, is only alive because lex, as a 5 year old, used her Gift to save her from dying before she was born. she didn't even want a sister before that moment. she doesn't remember doing it.

lex wants to be a normal teen who can hang out with her boyfriend and do stupid teen stuff. compared to hannah, she's grounded, practical. she forgets her own power, her own potential, as she grows up and has to learn to fight and scavenge to survive. but at heart, she's still a dreamer. she doesn't want anyone's pity, but still believes (wants to believe) in angels. if she had the money, she'd take the three of them to california. she'd be an actress.

her sister sometimes makes her life hell. lex will still risk, give up, anything and everything for that sister. she's been the closest thing to a mother hannah has known. but she's far from perfect. in multiple timelines, she's the cause of hannah's hurt, the one who puts her in the path of danger, however unintentionally. there is a gap in understanding between her and hannah that they may never fully close — but she keeps reaching out, keeps trying to work around it.

when lex is about to die in black friday, she wonders if she, all along, needed her sister more than her sister needed her — or maybe that's just her trying to reassure herself in her final moments, hoping beyond hope that hannah will be okay without her.

lex has the Gift. but she's not webby's favorite. she's not the Hero. her little sister is.

was lex meant to be the hero, originally? did she somehow fail in webby or the greater universe's eyes to live up to that position, requiring that her sister take it up instead? dooming hannah, before she was even born, to bearing the burden of being the one targeted by the most sinister forces in the multiverse, again and again, and the responsibility of stopping it?

or was the purpose of lex's existence always for her to be her sister's caretaker? to ensure that hannah could fulfill her destiny? to be the one to save her, from others or herself? through taking action, realizing her potential as the second-strongest foster girl (yellow jacket) or less directly, through just being someone hannah knows, can count on and believe in (witch in the web)? to play the kind of supportive role women are often pigeonholed into?

was hannah always meant to be the special one, the star, with lex as her prologue (and occasional understudy)? or was lex the original choice for the role, only for her to turn out to be... not enough? leaving hannah with the job of weaving together the pieces of a shattered universe?

either way, lex foster's existence is defined by her sister. has been since before she can remember.

and yet, though she probably wouldn't be able to say why, i don't think lex would change that. not unless she truly believed it would be to hannah's benefit. (and we all know it wouldn't be.)

[emily-mooon]

So honey take me by the hand, and we can sign some papers

Forget the invitations, floral arrangements, and breadmakers!

[bloodydeanwinchester]

Shakey Graves // Kids These Days

Supernatural: 1x12 // 4x16 // 4x18

taglist 1 (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)

@castielsupernatural @demolitiondean @quiet-doll @angelsdean @universalcas @faithcastiel @millicentmarva @fountaincas @deanbroco @waldrea @thigholstercas @castielfucks @youre-only-gay-once @girldaddean @verypissedoffdee @redleavesinthewind @cascigarette @naughtystiel @achillestiel @faithdeans @annaslittlebiitch @castiellesbian @obsessionofspn @my-people-skillls-are-rusty @hauntedpearl @colonel--sarge @latinocas @babygirlstiel @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @flowernerdcastiel @srazten @cockworkangels @birdstiel @shallowseeker @arsonistsam @nvybloo @f-rgetregret @saintedcastiel @oughilovehim @loyalbloggerwhowaits @mrcowboydeanwinchester @cannabiscasgate @deangraham @icarusalchemist @riverwithoutbanks @rainsongdean @nelsonsmynickname @dakrapatops @vegancas @butch--dean

[mel-loly]

(click to see the art better)

“Entupir de Brabuletas -Scatolove”

[giyuulatte]

the moment when you’re listening to music while reading a fic and a song comes on that goes perfectly with the vibe of the fic so you have to listen to the song on repeat until you finish it

[demadogs]

rb for sample size

[whispers-of-masser]

Just Tonight (II)

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB ✧ Angst to comfort; 2k+ words ✧ Brief & very mild suggestive content, light swearing ♫ "My Blood" - Echos, "Mistake" - NF, "Stubborn" - Riell ✒ @candydreamer122, you asked to be notified when this dropped so here ya go!

Nebarra opened his eyes to the golden light of dawn, your head resting on his chest, bare legs intertwined with his. Your body pressed against his, warm and comforting, and when he glanced down at your face, he'd never seen it more peaceful. He reached up, brushing your cheek with his thumb, and even in your sleep, you leaned into his touch.

Gods, you took his breath away. But even as he lay there, admiring you in the soft morning light, a single, unpleasant thought wormed its way to the front.

He didn't deserve you.

It made him pause, something turning sour in the pit of his stomach. No... Please, no...

He didn't want the moment to end. Didn't want the thoughts he knew would turn his happiness to ash. But for years they had whispered in his mind, been his constant companions, bitter and selfish lovers that left him with nothing in return but pain and cynicism. They would not let him go so easily, relinquish the control he has given them long ago.

All the more reason he couldn't, shouldn't have you.

Because, really, what could he offer you? He had nothing but his past, his bitterness, his selfish nature. Even last night had been spurred on by his own selfish desires, exacerbated further still by drink. He was nothing but thorns, rough and crude, the blood of hundreds on his hands – and he felt no guilt over them.

...Most of them.

You didn't deserve someone like that. You could do so much better than him.

Why did you want him, at all?

And as he lay there, hand cupping your face, his eyes drinking in every curve and contour – your own slowly fluttered open.

His breath caught. Sunlight danced across your irises, and he could see himself reflected in your gaze. For a few moments, you simply blinked at him, and he could see every minute shift in your expression. Emptiness, confusion, sudden realisation – and then you smiled.

Nebarra had seen many things in life. Many ugly things, things that he'd tried to forget, that haunted him until he drowned them in drink. The few beautiful things he'd seen, though... those, he remembered clearly, and often. Fought to carve them into every facet of his memory, to allow himself the slightest hope, to give himself the smallest of reasons to keep going. And the smile you gave him...

It was the most beautiful of them all.

There was life in your smile. Vast, vibrant, and beautiful, your face haloed in the golden light of morning, you looked... divine.

And then, you spoke, words low and husky from sleep, a laugh rumbling in your throat: "And you call me guar-face." Slowly, you raised a hand, gentle fingers brushing his cheeks, smile growing ever wider.

...He wanted you. Gods, how he wanted you. His heart ached with the thorns of longing, with the knowledge that he couldn't, shouldn't have you.

So, he turned away, pulled back from your touch. Forced an empty expression on his face, in his eyes. Grunted a simple, "Morning." And carefully, oh so carefully, pushed you off him.

"...Nebarra?"

Unwelcome. Outsider. All he was ever meant to be.

"What?" The word was heavy on his tongue, deadened in tone as he sat up, got off the bet, and set to collecting his clothes from the floor.

"Nebarra... What's wrong?"

Everything. "Nothing." He fumbled with his trousers, nearly falling as he tugged them on, still scanning the floor for his shirt. Anything to avoid meeting your eyes.

"Bullshit." Sheets rustled as you leaned forward, and he could practically hear your brows furrow at him. "Is it... because of last night?"

"No." Yes.

"I think it is. And I think we should talk about it – about this."

"There's nothing to talk about," he grunted, still pacing the floor, eyes roving everywhere but the bed. Where was his damn shirt?

"Oh, I think we have a lot to talk about."

He didn't answer, and in the silence, fabric rustled some more. Then, your voice, "...Looking for this?"

Finally, slowly, Nebarra looked at you. You were sitting upright on the bed, and in one hand you held up his shirt, winkled and dusty from the floor.

And you... were still very much naked. Your chest was on blatant display, the blankets pooled low around your hips, deep purple teethmarks scattered over your skin – his doing. Nebarra swallowed, averting his gaze back to the tunic. 

Wordlessly, he stalked over, reaching out for it – only for you to snap your hand back, away from him. He sighed. "What are you doing?"

You didn't answer, though he could feel your gaze burning into him. Reluctantly, he returned it – and the storm in your eyes sent a shock down his spine.

Oh...

Oh, no.

Before he could even begin to pick apart what he saw in there, you raised your arms, slid them through the holes of the shirt, and pulled it down over your head.

You... were wearing his shirt.

Still holding his gaze, there was something like a challenge in your eyes. Nebarra grit his teeth and, for once in his life, held his tongue, unsure if he could win this one.

The thought... unsettled him. 

But... maybe not as much as it should have.

"Nebarra."

No. No, no no no. You couldn't do that to him – say his name in that tone, in that way. 

"What?" he snapped, harsher than intended.

Maybe he should have just been born mute.

"We need to talk about this."

"No, we don't."

"Why not?"

"Because... it was a mistake." He looked away, unable to meet your gaze, tearing a hand through his hair. Coward, coward, coward. "That's all there is – was – to it. We were drunk, and tired, and maybe... just maybe... a little lonely. So we made a bad decision – one we should just forget about, move on from. Because ultimately... it meant nothing. Not a damn thing."

It felt like an eternity passed before you answered, and when you did, your voice was heavy, rasping with emotion. "...If that's how you really feel, then–"

You choked. Nebarra could practically hear the words catch in your throat, dying before they could pass your lips. Instead, a low, bitter laugh rose suddenly in their place; the sound scraped his wounded heart raw. "Gods damn you, Nebarra. You're... really selfish, you know that?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I know."

But you weren't done. Because as you rose from the bed, the floorboards creaking beneath your feet, you continued, "You're also... a really shit liar."

And then you were standing before him, your hand on his chin, turning his face towards you, your gaze searching his. He couldn't avoid your eyes this time, couldn't look away from the storm raging within them: hurt, anger, confusion.

Because of him. Him, and his stupid decisions, and his even stupider words.

Yet, even as he stared, he could see something else in them, too.

Affection. Care. Passion. And... lo–

Why? Why him? Of all the people on Nirn you could want, how could you want the mess that was him?

"I don't know," you said softly, and Nebarra realised with horror that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. "Because, gods, you really are a mess, aren't you? You're bitter, cynical, surly, arrogant, selfish, flawed to the moons and back, but..." Your hand shifted, brushing upwards to cradle his cheek, and the Altmer found himself holding his breath, afraid of what you'd say next, needing to hear what you'd say next.

Only, you didn't say anything. Instead, you simply leaned in, pulled him close – and kissed him. Before he even knew what he was doing, Nebarra found himself returning it, pulling you in closer, hands falling to your waist –

Wait.

No.

Stop.

What was he doing?

Breathless, he pulled away, nearly stumbling over his own feet. His mind spun; he couldn't seem to form a single coherent though. "What – what was that?"

Your eyes seemed to stare right down to his soul, burning with intensity, filled with both pain and longing. Yet a faint, bittersweet smile ghosted across your face as you answered, "Nothing, apparently."

...Damn you.

Before he could change his mind, think himself out of it, Nebarra caught your arm and tugged you sharply back towards him, crashing his lips back against yours. You stumbled from the initial force of it, but he followed your motion, keeping your lips on his.

After a moment, your arms slipped around his neck, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other tickling his nape. He grunted into the kiss, pulling you back towards the bed; you didn't resist, and readily fell back on it.

Nebarra fell with you, straddling your prone form, brushing his lips from your mouth to your jaw, nipping gently as he went. A soft gasp escaped you; his hands slid down, tugging your shirt – his shirt – gradually upward, pulling it off of you. 

And immediately he sat up, got off the bed, and tugged it over his own head. Without a word, he walked away to the other side of the room, leaving you naked and stunned on the bed.

"...Nebarra!"

"Like you said," he muttered, stalking across the room and far from you, "I'm selfish."

He could hear a frustrated breath hissing through your teeth. "Damn you! Why can't you just admit what you feel, what you want? What are you so afraid of?"

The elf froze.

You could see right through him, couldn't you?

"You don't... even know me," he managed at last, keeping his back towards you. "You don't even know my name, my real name."

"I don't need a name to know you, though. Names aren't what define us – we define them. It doesn't matter to me whether you're Nebarra or... or Nico, or something else entirely. Because you're still, and always will be you, regardless of what name you answer to."

Gods, why did you have to be so damn stubborn?

"Pot, kettle, black," you sniffed, and Nebarra realised that yet again, he'd spoken aloud. "And who knows, maybe I picked some of it up from you in the first place."

Sighing heavily, Nebarra leaned forwards and let his forehead thunk against the wall. He stayed like that for a long moment, counting his breaths, trying to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not... suited for a relationship," he slowly began. "I wouldn't be... you have better options than me. People who could give you what you want far better than I could."

At that, you actually laughed, and he turned to look at you despite himself. There was no smile on your face, only pain and mockery; the sight drove thorns through his chest. "Who, then, O wise one, most knowledgeable of relationships? Who on Nirn can give me what I want, when what I want – is you."

He shook his head. "Well... you shouldn't. I can give you nothing."

"You aren't nothing," you said softly. "Your heart isn't nothing. Don't you get that yet, Nebs?"

"My... heart," he echoed, staring blankly at you. "My heart."

Shifting, you rose from the bed, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you approached. "Yeah, your heart. This thing–" you placed a hand over his chest "–that's beating right here, going at a million miles a second." Your eyes locked with his once more, and somehow, even before you spoke, he knew. He knew.

"I love you, you miserable bastard. And I want you, not for anything you can offer me, but for who you are. There's no doubt in my mind about that. Now, the only question left is... how do you feel? What do you want?"

He couldn't hide from it any longer. The truth was on his tongue, escaping his lips before he even had to think about it. "You. I just... gods damn it, I just want you," he rasped. "But..."

You placed a gentle finger against his mouth. "Shh," you murmured. "No buts."

Slowly, Nebarra raised a hand, brought it up to yours, and pulled it away from his lips, instead lacing his fingers with yours. "No, listen. I... this... is going to be complicated, if we really do this. And... you're probably going to get hurt and disappointed because of me. There's a lot you don't know–"

"And you can tell me when you're ready," you soothed, brushing your thumb across the back of his hand. "We'll cross all those bridges when we get to them. And yes, before you protest any further," you added, when his mouth opened to do just that, "I'm aware of the emotional risks. But that's part of every relationship, Nebarra, and you know that. So, again, when they do inevitably arrive, we'll cross those bridges together."

...He really didn't deserve you. Didn't understand how or why you wanted him, of all people. But as you rested your forehead against his, breaths mingling, eyes full of nothing but each other – Nebarra realised he didn't care, anymore.

The voices in his head, all the doubts and fears – they still hissed their poison, and he knew it would be a long, long time before they stopped. But a new voice had joined the mix, soft but confident, telling him that maybe, just maybe, life wasn't about "deserving" things, but appreciating them. That maybe, amid the bleak desert of his past, he could still find a lone rose of happiness.

And that voice... sounded an awful lot like yours.

[johaerys-writes]

OHHH I just noticed you have 1,000+ kudos for "you're a walking disaster and yet-" CONGRATULATIONS!!!!! I LOVE THIS WONDERFUL FIC SOOOO MUCH! HAVE A HAPPY WEEKEND!

Aaaah!!! I hadn't even noticed the kudos number was so close to a thousand, that's so exciting! I cannot believe that 1k people have read this fic of mine and left kudos on it, it literally blows my mind 🥹 Thank you for stopping by and letting me know! This really made my day!!!

If you want to check out the fic, it's right here!

[zukkaoru]

🫀 if you look back and you hate my past 🫀

Before he can say anything at all, Kunikida calls after him: “I won’t pretend to know what’s going on in that bizarre mind of yours, but you’re no god, Dazai. The blood that runs through your veins is red like mine. I’ve seen it.”

The blood that runs through Dazai’s veins should be blackened beyond all hope.

(Except it isn’t, because Kunikida just cleaned his wounds, and he’s right. It was bright, sticky, mortally, red.)

Dazai turns on his heel, facing Kunikida. “I’m not a god,” he agrees. “But you don’t know what I am.”

dazai contemplates his (lack of) humanity while kunikida tends to his wounds

🫀 3.8k words || kunikida & dazai / pre-kunidazai 🫀 takes place during dazai's entrance exam light novel

[weirdnerdygoat]

Oh look, a younger ford blushing picture...

I... may or may not be making something...

[fandomsbyladymelodrama]

@salzrand - <3 Jamais T'oublier, my friends <3<3 (which sounds like a goodbye but is really just another farewell-for-now but ajsalkdajkdjfkj WHY DO I ALWAYS FEEL SO SAD WHEN I WELL-AND-TRULY FINISH A FIC??? :'( and this is why writers leave epilogues for years, tbh XD) Hope you enjoy! Much love to all. Xo

[spikezonebby]

Song Fic Reader Inserts Are Open!!

Send me your favorite tf character along with a song and I'll write a brief Reader Insert drabble inspired by the song! Requests will be open for 24 hours! It is 9 pm est as of posting this!

Please list the character with your preferred continuity. If you don't list one, I'll either pick my favorite continuity myself or go for a nondescript au. Please don't list more than two characters. I love poly relationships but I'll lose track eventually lol

Please list if you want the fic to be sexy, romantic, or angsty! I can kind of get a vibe from the song but I'd love to hear your direction!

I will NOT write anything NSFW featuring characters who are minors. I will write platonic things featuring them though.

I will NOT be writing full valveplug scenes for this request dock. You can expect ~1,000 words though, perhaps more.