acesvintage

[farcillesbian]

sorry for my gay posts in th middle of the night I am just. a huge dyke lesbian homo and Sidney is taking up 25% of my brain and 98% of my heart rn. I'm so. yeah.

[paceprompting]

stars in his eyes✨

week 3 (and a little late, whoops) for @steddiesmuttyseptember. And a continuation in the saga of why can't I write just porn, this is 6K, wtf.

Rough | lingerie | aftercare | sneaking around (and failing so badly at it)

Rating: mature

Tags: mention of rough sex, shotgunning, teasing, fingering, sexy underwear, semi-public sex

~*~*~*~

Steve didn’t quite know what to expect when Eddie invited him to a gig. Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy, too. But that had been offhand, nonchalant—an Invite whoever you’d like to come with. Got to make sure we’re not too suspicious, right?

Suspicious.

Hiding from the wandering eyes of the people who knew them best. Not standing too close, but making sure not to outright avoid one another, either. They could sit on the same couch, but not with Steve’s arm behind Eddie’s head on the back of cushion. Not with Eddie’s legs splayed in Steve’s lap, as if he could get that spot before Robin anyway.

They’d taken to putting a bowl of popcorn between them just to be safe.

There was other little safety measures like that. They never drove each other around unless they were also driving around Robin or the kids. Steve never parked in front of the trailer and came in through Eddie’s bedroom window. Eddie did the same for Steve’s house, except when he stayed over after a movie night.

All smoke and mirrors. To keep everyone else from think they were sneaking around behind their backs. That Steve and Eddie were keeping something secret from them.

Because that was what they were doing. Sneaking around.

He hadn’t even told Robin. Not in such specific terms anyway. She was well aware that Steve had a “secret paramour”, as she called it. He told her he wasn’t in some Shakespeare romance from English, and all she’d shot back with was, well yeah, you’d probably be dead if you were.

Eddie had asked him not to tell. When they’d clearly moved on from that first mutual hands-down-each-others-pants behind the school gym the day Eddie and Robin graduated from Hawkins High. After Steve had kissed him before the ceremony to help keep Eddie from spiraling out of control and running off before he could finally walk across that stage.

Moved on to long make-outs on Steve’s bed.  To sucking Eddie off in the back of his van after band practice. To Steve keeping a stash of mixtapes with Eddie’s favorite bands on them in his glovebox and Eddie keeping a stash of Cola on hand at the trailer, along with a spare pair of Steve’s glasses for his migraines.

Their standing offer that if either of them called in the middle of the night, the nightmares too much, too real, the other went over with no question.

Steve had peeked in at the end of a couple practices, when he was rounding up the group for a Hellfire night. Had sat in Eddie’s bedroom with him while he plucked out melodies and chords on his luscious red guitar with such speed in his fingers, Steve’s head spun just watching.

But he had no clue how a concert would go.

And being a Corroded Coffin concert, led by a wild child of chaos like Eddie Munson, anything could happen.

Eddie hadn’t forced Steve to come. Knew that the bright spotlights and excessive sound from the speakers could easily send Steve into another migraine. If Steve had to bow out, he would understand. Of course, he could hardly meet Steve’s eyes when he had said that, voice colored by how much he wished it wasn’t a variable.

It had been a good morning, the day of the concert. No auras. No nausea. Steve had even slept well through the night. He knew why Eddie came by around noon when Steve was working, his deep brown eyes wide and hopeful before he said anything.

“Excited for the concert tonight,” was all he said and Eddie grinned, blinding Steve with his dimples. One was slightly crooked now from the demobat scar on his jaw, and Steve remembered how Eddie had started to turn his head away or let his hair fall forward to cover it when he noticed himself smiling.

He wasn’t doing that now.

Eddie quickly rented two of his old favorites from the Horror section to cover up the real reason he’d come by and then left, lingering just an extra moment at the counter to touch his fingers to Steve’s.

Part of Steve wanted to grab Eddie by the front of his Dio t-shirt and yank him over the counter to kiss him. But they both knew better.

He didn’t see Eddie again until the concert.

He nursed exactly one beer and stared at the small crowd gathered at the Hideout. Corroded Coffin wasn’t the only band performing—a sort of talent show of up and comers—but they were the openers. As his eyes lazily scanned the crowd, nodding every so often when Robin nudged him in the ribs to do so, Steve  wondered if he might see Eddie somewhere.

This was his crowd. The long hair, the dark clothes and leather. Steve vaguely recognized some of the names on people’s shirts—all said in the back of his mind in Eddie’s low voice, usually bemoaning Steve’s ignorance of music culture.

Steve knew there was no reason for Eddie to be out socializing. He was probably pacing back and forth in the tiny closet of a dressing room the venue had provided, wringing his hands through his curls and making them wilder than they already were.

A selfish part of him, the one that got to have Eddie in small bits and pieces when they could manage it, wanted to find Eddie and try to soak up all that anxiety for him. There hadn’t been any chance to wish him good luck.

Steve hadn’t even thought of it when Eddie had come by the video store.

God, he regretted it.

“Hey, you want to go to front with me?”

Robin’s voice filtered through to the front of his mind, and Steve had to shake his head before he turned toward her. She stared at him, eyes wide and intense, and her face way too close to his own.

“What?”

“Do you.” She tilted her chin down. “Want.” Widened her eyes and leaned further into Steve’s space. “To go to the front.” She blinked twice. “With me.”

Steve would have pulled away from Robin, but he was already at the edge of the booth with him, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle all crammed together. And he was half-sure that Eddie would never let him live down Steve “The Former Hair” Harrington falling flat on his face at a metal concert.

“Are you going to have to stand like this the whole time?” he asked.

Robin tsked right in his face, but immediately pulled back. “I would say yes, but your breath smells like citrus and yeast. Now, are we going to the front or not, because if we don’t go now, I will have to use you as a human shield to get there.”

Steve looked far over his shoulder toward the stage. Corroded Coffin’s instruments were set up and waiting, and true to Robin’s worries, as the time drew closer to start the crowd was gathering as close to the front as possible.

“I don’t know, Robin,” he said. Sure, Eddie and his band were performers, but Steve could only imagine how much easier it might be to only see people you don’t even know, who probably don’t even care as long as you play half-decent music. “If Eddie and the band see us, it might make them nervous.”

“Oh, come on. Those stage lights shine so bright they won’t be able to see the end of the stage, much less beyond it.”

“Robs…”

“Please, Steve. It’s our first concert. We have to!” Robin clutched onto his forearm, black-painted nails digging in at the points.

“Alright, alright.” He pried Robin’s hand off him and basically tumbled out of the booth with her following after. He downed the rest of his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. Jonathan and Argyle were engrossed in some personal conversation, but Nancy had noticed them leave.

Strangely enough, she had her brows raised at Robin, who gave her a bright thumbs up and then grabbed onto Steve’s arm again. He opened his mouth to question the interaction, but he didn’t know whether to pose it to Robin or to Nancy. And before he could figure it out, Robin darted for the stage and yanked Steve along behind her.

So, it wasn’t until the house lights dimmed and the stage lights brightened that Steve saw Eddie again.

His first thought was how much he wanted to bite Eddie.

Like he had guessed earlier on, Eddie’s curls were a dark, wild mess around his head. The lights surround him shone on the edges like an aura, and Steve had a flash of terror that a migraine had suddenly decided to burst his lovely, pleasant bubble.

But Eddie was only one. Bathed in the intense, bright light, shining at all of his edges and through the loose curls bouncing as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Wearing a pair of overly-torn up black jeans bedecked with chains hanging from his belt loops and an equally overly-cut up Corroded Coffin t-shirt, his scarred sides and tattoos—old and new—in full view of the crowd. His guitar, his darling, shone its dazzling red now that it was were it belonged with Eddie on stage, and Steve’s eyes caught on the glint of his silver rings as he settled his fingers along the frets.

Robin practically vibrated beside him while the emcee introduced the band. Let out an ear-splitting screech even through the ear plugs he’d bought when the crowd cheered for the band. Which, thankfully, were good enough that Steve only winced from the surprise rather than sheer volume.

The drums—Gareth, he remembered—started first. The three-count that led into the starting thrum of the base. Eddie wasn’t singing on this song, since he wasn’t standing in front of a mic. The other guitarist—his name something starting with a ‘J’—joined the bass with an even, low tenor; mouth pressed close to the mic and giving bedroom eyes to the crowd.

And then Eddie…

Steve knew something was coming. In the way he grinned to himself and tossed his hair over one shoulder, practically thrumming and the stagelight aura around him growing and growing until it burst out when he finally played his starting chord.

It was one chord. Only one.

There was another line of vocals, and then he played the chord once more. The sound tore from the speakers right through Steve, vibrating through his bones and into his veins. The opening chords transitioned into Eddie’s fingers flying across the strings, and he moved—always, always moving, never still his Eddie—with the music as he played.

He saw Eddie look out toward the crowd, squinting for a second like Robin said he probably would. But his gaze traveled across as he played, never missing a note, sweat shining on his exposed skin. Steve moved because Robin did, took caught up in staring at one particular member of the band to remember to actually try jumping or cheering.

Eddie’s dark eyes stopped on a particular spot in the crowd, a lascivious grin  across forming his face. His dimples came out in full force, and still he kept playing his guitar like an extension of his body rather than a simple toll to create strange but intense music.

And he realized…Robin was wrong.

Eddie could absolutely see him.

Because Eddie was staring at him.

He’d migrated closer to one of the speakers at the front of the stage, throwing one combat boot wearing foot onto the top of it, splaying his hips out and laying his guitar across the space. He winked at Steve, he fucking winked and threw back his head as he started a solo—rings sparkling points on his hands as Eddie showed exactly why he and the other boys never gave up even when all they could get was shitty gigs. They worked for it, in every note that Eddie created from his fingers on the strings of his guitar.

The solo finished with a long-held chord like the one Eddie had started the song with—a short break for his hands in the song before he’d start up again. And Eddie found Steve immediately again, smiling like a shark in the water, the point of his canines slightly threatening. The harsh stage lights shining down on him like stars in his eyes, points of light directed at Steve.

There was no way Steve was getting out of there without losing his mind.

He’d make sure of it.

~*~*~*~

Steve knew he was staring at Eddie too much.

He blamed it on the two whiskey shots Robin had tried at Jonathan’s behest and then immediately hated, and which he ended up shooting back as they waited for the band to come out to the bar floor after the show had ended.

That and the three joints that were being passed around now in the dressing room.

He’d had to fight every urge in his body—digging his fingernails deep into palms—to be the first one to greet Eddie when he came bounding out from backstage. But it turned out not to be that much of a problem, when Eddie waved them all to join him, Corroded Coffin and another all-girl metal band in the dressing room for the after party.

Eddie had put himself next to Steve, authentically vibrating with so much afterburn energy from the show that it hid the way he tangled his fingers with Steve’s for a quick two seconds as they walked together.

But, just to be safe, they sat themselves on opposite sides of the room once the group had filed into Dressing Room A.

Eddie perched on the back of one of the couches, boots on the cushion like a damn heathen, but nobody else cared. Liquor bottles and red solo cups littered the table, slowly being abandoned now that they’d gotten their hands on the primo shit brought in by Argyle and Jonathan.

At this point, Steve was sure they could just summon the stuff at will.

But he wasn’t complaining.

He sat mainly with Nancy and Robin. Nancy stuck firmly to her second beer of the night, and Robin—only three pulls from a joint into the night—had her head lolled on Nancy’s shoulder, regaling her with a meandering, but thorough recap of the last three episodes of The Golden Girls she’d watched.

Steve made himself stare at the floor as he took another pull from the joint he was sharing with Argyle, but there was only one place his eyes would go as he exhaled, slow and smoky.

Eddie had his head cocked in Steve’s direction when their eyes met again, his pink lips around the end of his own joint as he inhaled. Gareth was talking to him, clearly used to Eddie’s ability hold a conversation without making eye contact, one hand wildly gesturing until Eddie handed over the blunt.

“Please,” Gareth scoffed, pausing to bring the join to his lips. “That move is so tired. Half the time, you can’t even do it right and the smoke just goes all over the girl’s face.” He waved his hand in front of his own face, as half the group groaned (the boys) and the other half nodded in agreement (the girls).

Eddie gave very little reaction. No, his gaze got this very particular glint that Steve had come to learn meant he was about to do something incredibly reckless and Steve could do nothing to stop him. Eddie launched himself forward from the couch to stand, effectively catching the attention of everyone in the room. His cheeks were flushed and his limbs a bit wobbly compared to the usual, but he was focused. Entirely on Steve.

“I bet the deposed king here pulled this move plenty of times in his partying hayday.” He said, crossing from his couch to Steve’s by way of walking right over the table. He jumped down with a dramatic sigh, landing in front of Jonathan—and then promptly plucked the half-gone joint from his fingers.

Jonathan squawked, but Eddie ignored him since he was quickly quieted by Argyle handing him another fresh one.

Steve tried to remain still, remain composed. He was already laid back with one arm across the back of the couch, so all he had to make sure to do was let Eddie come to him and not reach out to Eddie.

Ducking his chin, Eddie pulled from his stolen joint, stepping slowly, slowly toward Steve. He pulled the blunt away, holding the smoke in his lungs and walked forward until his knees knocked against Steve’s.

He exhaled, the smoke curling toward the ceiling along with an offer that burned in Steve’s veins.

“What’dya say, Harrington. Want to show ‘em how it’s done?”

Steve raised his brows, just to play along. He knew his fingers twitched, and if the group was sober, they might have seen him give himself away in just that action. He hummed in the back of his throat, pretending to consider Eddie’s presumptuous question, before he shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

“Suppose I have some experience,” he said.

Eddie smiled and held out the joint to Steve, waiting until it was in his hand before clamoring straight into Steve’s lap, straddling his thighs with his knees pressed into the cushions on either side. He stumbled, and Steve was sure that it was at least half of a real one, but he took an opportunity where he could find one and placed a steadying hand on Eddie’s hip.

“Bold,” he commented, loud enough for the group to hear. Robin was giggling off the side. Steve ignored her.

“Is there any other way?” Eddie sang, tapping teasing, risky fingers where Steve’s shirt tucked into his jeans.

 He didn’t look like anyone else in the room, wearing a henley instead of a polo, even if it was a dark gray—the closest thing to black in his closet he could find. But he also knew how Eddie liked the look of his arms with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, so he would wear bright pink if it meant wearing the henley.

Steve brought the end of the blunt to his lips while Eddie stared down at him. He could almost swear that the same points of light were in the center of the pinpoint pupils. Like Eddie had carried the stars and the stage lights with him off stage.

He knew they had to be careful. Shotgunning was close contact, but when they had done this before, it didn’t usually end with them separating afterwards.

When Steve had gathered enough smoke, he passed the joint to Robin without looking at her, and then used his newly freed hand to gently hold Eddie’s chin in a cradle of his fingers. Eddie’s lashes fluttered as Steve guided him down. He even had to stop Eddie from going too far, getting too close and just planting one on him.

He pressed his thumb against the point of Eddie’s chin and when he parted his lips, Steve released the smoke in his lungs, soaking into his blood after so long. 

Unlike how Gareth had complained just before, Steve let the smoke go slow, giving out as Eddie took it with his inhale. A few stray wisps curled toward the ceiling, but Eddie breathed in all that Steve had over the course of a dizzying span of time.

Their top lips brushed as the smoke tapered off, and Steve felt it shoot through his spine. He clenched the hand holding on to Eddie’s hip to keep his control, and a couple of his fingers slipped back the waistband of Eddie’s jeans.

He was used to feeling of Eddie’s boxers, the elastic band of cotton. Normally black, but Steve knew for a fact Eddie had a pair of Garfield ones from Wayne that he wore to bed if Steve could keep his mouth shut.

But this…

He felt lace.

“Eds?” he murmured, dipping his fingers lower and finding more and more thin, delicate detail warmed by Eddie’s body heat. “What…”

Eddie planted his hands on Steve’s shoulders and pushed up just enough that Steve would be the only one to hear him. He winked as he mouthed, For later.

“Damn Munson, give the man some breathing room. He just barely made it through his first metal concert,” A loud voice—Gareth—annoying only because Steve wanted to pull Eddie right onto the fucking semi he was now sporting in his jeans, echoed across the room.

Everyone was too drunk, or high, or both to fully take in what the fuck had just happened right in front of them. So Steve was sure it was alright for Eddie to risk another thirty seconds in Steve’s lap to murmur under his breath another offer Steve would have to be dead to refuse.

“Five minutes. Dressing room B.”

Steve nodded, eyes flicking down to Eddie’s mouth. Eddie tutted softly and narrowed his eyes, playful and with a hint of a threat, before he threw his head back and returned to his performed for their audience.

“Stevie here can handle himself pretty well, I think. Knows we’re not all so big and bad.” He slid off Steve’s lap, and did a pretty impressive twirl for how much less sober than he was high. Steve noticed Gareth rolling his eyes, tipping back a drink from the vodka bottle from the coffee table.

He knew he was watching Eddie too much again. And Steve almost didn’t care, until Robin decided that she’d had enough with Nancy and flopped over to lay across Steve’s front instead. He was just glad she hadn’t decided to go for his lap with how incriminating his dick was being in his jeans at the moment.

“M’proud of you, dingus,” she said, voice heavy but not slurred.

He laughed through his nose. “Thanks.”

She raised one hand up into the air, level with Steve’s face. And he honestly should have seen it coming far faster than he did, because then her palm was directly over his nose as she patted her fingers against his forehead. “You did…so good at the concert. Didn’t even complain once that you didn’t understand the music.”

Eddie was the main reason for that. Steve had wanted to know just what about metal music enticed Eddie so much to dedicate part of his identity to it. And, once given the opportunity, Eddie had launched a full-fledged campaign to walk Steve through chord progressions and the actual skills it took to play the chaotic melodies that he loved so much.

There were still some songs that Steve could not hear as anything other than a discordant headache, but, honestly…it was more about watching Eddie talk without restriction.

And, of course, Steve had lost all coherent consciousness while watching Eddie on stage.

Robin had stopped talking, tucking her face into Steve’s neck. He was probably going to have some of her makeup on his shirt, but he’d been covered in much worse before.

He realized he hadn’t been looking at Eddie. Always looking out for him, Robin. Even when she had no idea she was doing it.

Steve looked, and couldn’t find him. He turned to look behind him in case Eddie was doing something strange because the weed had really hit him, but there was no sign of his sexy, lace-wearing metalhead.

While he’d been distracted by a cuddling, giggly Robin, Eddie had slipped out of the room.

He had no idea if five minutes had passed or not.

It was probably better for Steve to be early than to leave Eddie waiting for him when he clearly had a surprise waiting. And the last time Steve had been late, Eddie’s revenge had been swift. Eddie was entirely too skilled with his mouth for his own good.

“Okay,” he said to Robin, easing her off of his shoulder. He’d hoped to pass her over to Nancy, but she had mysteriously disappeared too. A quick scan, and it was clear she wasn’t in the room either, so Steve eased her to lie on one of the pillows. He chuckled when she immediately snuggled into it.

Rising to his feet, Steve turned next to Jonathan and snapped his fingers in front of his face until he got his attention. The dude was blitzed out of his mind, but he wasn’t Steve’s permanent solution anyway.

“Watch her until I send Nancy back here,” he said, pointing at Robin. Jonathan’s eyes slowly followed his hand until they landed, and then he furrowed his brows.

He nodded, solemnly.

“Watch her,” he repeated.

Jesus. Okay.

Steve ran both hands through his hair, damp at his hairline with sweat, and took in a deep breath. They’d all been in there so long, he could taste the acrid smoke in the air, the smell of spilled drinks, a bit stinging when it hit his nose.

If he hadn’t been smoking already, he’d probably have a hell of a contact high.

Cab fares back to the hotel were going to suck.

He made his way to the door and into the hallway, even the stale air of the bar miles above the congested air of the dressing room. He sucked in as much as he could with his mouth open, scanning slowly down the line of three other doors for one marked “B” in large, white paint.

Wasn’t hard to find, and Steve smiled, knowing what was waiting for him on the other side.

“Steve.”

Fuck.

He’d be beelining for the door with Eddie behind it, he hadn’t even noticed another door opening on the other side of the hall.

He’d also forgotten he was supposed to be looking for Nancy.

At least that solved itself.

“Nancy,” he said, too high-pitched. He cleared his throat and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as she hovered in the hall with him, perfect brow arched high. “Finally sick of the smell of weed and sweat?”

“Just using the bathroom.” She pointed at the door she’d come through.

“Makes sense.”

Nancy glanced at the door to the first dressing room. Clearly behind Steve, and clearly being left for another room. “You going somewhere?”

Steve was in the middle of the hallway, in between dressing rooms A and B just enough that maybe Nancy wouldn’t be able to put the very clear two and two together.

“Just stepping out for a minute. Get some fresh air away from the hotbox back there.” Steve managed a single-second smile.

All it did was tip Nancy off. She tilted her head, getting that thoughtful look on her face that unlocked the secrets of the damn universe. She stared at him, and he couldn’t help it.

He looked at dressing room B.

Nancy stood a bit straighter, her shoulders rising. “I saw Eddie leave, too. Few minutes before you.”

“Not that weird. He’s probably exhausted.” Steve shrugged and stuffed his hands into his front pockets.

“So you’re going to his dressing room to…tuck him in?”

Fuck. Again.

“I—”

Nancy knew. That was the crux of it. She knew and nothing Steve could ever think of would convince her otherwise.

“So,” she said brightly. “Eddie, huh?”

He didn’t care that she knew about him.

Eddie, on the other hand, kept all of himself much closer to his chest. And he’d no say in how someone else had found out about him.

Steve didn’t know how else to answer. It seemed pointless to lie. And he wanted to get to Eddie.

“Yeah.” His voice came out as a croak, betraying his nervousness.

“Curly hair and brown eyes are really your type, aren’t they?”

A laugh tumbled out of him, because damn…it kind of was.

Except, Eddie was somehow able to let Steve give him everything every chance he could. So far, Steve hadn’t yet become too much for Eddie. Sometimes it even seemed like he wanted more.

Steve was still trying to wrap his head around it.

Nancy knocked him out of his head with a gentle pat of her hand on his shoulder. She’d walked closer while he was zoned out, and her eyes were pointed as she looked at him.

“Go get your boy, Harrington. I’m sure he’s waiting eagerly for you.” She shuddered, lowering her hand. “Uck, don’t ever make me think about what you two might be getting up to in there.”

“I didn’t make you the first time,” Steve pointed out.

Nancy just waved her hand, dismissing herself from the conversation and headed for the door the dressing room with the rest of the group. Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

Then remembered one last thing.

He turned after Nancy, finding her with her hand just on the doorknob. She must have heard his feet shuffling on the floor, because she was already waiting for his question.

“Could you keep an eye on Robin, please?”

“Of course.” She smiled, opening the door. “I’ve still got to find out how this episode ends.”

Steve let out a surprised huff of laughter, standing in the hall until Nancy had closed the door behind her. He hovered just a second longer, listening to the sounds of conversation that filtered through the door. No one else was going to come out, not in the time it would take Steve to finally join Eddie in the other dressing room.

He could only hope it hadn’t been five minutes yet.

Turned out, he’d just made it.

Eddie hadn’t been expecting him yet, startled enough to jump when Steve entered the room. His curls bounced and then settled over his shoulders, but that wasn’t the only thing that caught Steve’s eye.

Eddie had taken off his jeans already, standing in the middle of the otherwise empty dressing room in his stylishly cut up t-shirt and…lace underwear.

“Holy fuck,” Steve whispered.

Eddie’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, nervously pulling a strand of his hair over his mouth as Steve stood, dumbstruck, in front of the door. He twisted his hair between his fingers, brown eyes flitting to Steve and holding there.

Even if Steve had surprised him, he’d already put his cards on the table. Teased Steve enough to entice him. Now, fully revealing the whole surprise.

The one thing Steve might have expected: the underwear was black.

They were shaped more like shorts than any lacy underwear Steve had ever seen. Very obscene, very short shorts, the cut of them ending just under Eddie’s butt. The legs went further down on Eddie’s thighs, but each and every bit of fabric was just see-through enough to see a hint of Eddie’s pale skin through the lace detailing.

“You’ve been wearing those the whole time?”

A smirk grew across Eddie’s face.

“That’s right,” he said.

And Steve surged forward, a fire burning in his blood at the very thought that Eddie had spent an hour and a half performing in front of at least a hundred people—all the while wearing lace fucking panties for Steve to find on him afterward.

He crossed the room in four long strides, capturing Eddie’s laugh at his behavior with the fierce press of his mouth. Eddie hummed when Steve placed both hands along his jaw, and shuddered from head to toe when Steve kept going, until Eddie’s back hit the wall.

Steve had to touch. He had to.

He brought one hand down from Eddie’s face to the soft flesh of his thigh, fingertips grazing the lace. He sighed, sliding across the fabric to cup the Eddie’s pert, round cheek. Eddie pushed onto his toes, his hands already tugging Steve’s shirt from his jeans.

The underwear was rough against Steve’s palm, scrunched a bit when he massaged and pulled Eddie against him. He could feel Eddie’s dick twitch through the underwear where it pressed against his stomach, and Steve dug his fingers in harder to make it happen again.

“Lube?” he asked, although Eddie couldn’t answer right away with Steve licking into his mouth and biting at his lips.

Steve would have loved to lay Eddie out on the couch behind them, push his shirt up and really see the dark black of the panties in contrast with Eddie’s pale skin. How hi cock stretched out the ffront, maybe didn’t even fit because Steve didn’t know if they made these type of things for guys—but they didn’t have the time. Eventually, the band would need to pack up their things and vacate the bar.

Eddie finally turned his head away to catch his breath. And answer Steve.

“Table,” he panted.

Steve hummed deep in his chest.

“Stay here,” he said, patting Eddie twice on the butt before leaving him.

Eddie slumped back against the wall, rubbing himself slowly through his underwear. He watched Steve jog over the table, laughing softly when Steve stripped his shirt. He’d only been with Eddie for a few minutes, and was already overheating, sue him.

He grabbed the little bottle of lube—perched conspicuously in the center of the coffee table—and returned to Eddie. He’d opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment about Steve’s rush, but he never got the chance for more than a syllable. Not with Steve curling a hand into the thick of his hair, and kissing him hard.

Eddie floundered for a moment, lost in feeling just how Steve explored his mouth with his tongue before his hands landed on Steve’s biceps and he started moving his lips.

One-handed, Steve clicked open the lube bottle. Had to let go of Eddie’s hair since that was his dominant hand, and slicked his fingers. He felt some of it drip onto the floor, but he didn’t really care.

“Give me your hand, babe,” he said, and tipped some more onto Eddie’s fingers. He clicked shut the bottle and threw it to the other side of the room. Eddie laughed as it clattered on the floor, his slick hand bumping against Steve’s bare stomach.

Steve’s head was swimming, he wanted Eddie so much.

“Want to start for me?” he asked, at the same time unbuttoning his jeans with his free hand.

Eddie bit his lip and nodded.

They moved at the same time, Steve getting his hard cock out of his pants and slowly slicking himself with his lubed hand. Eddie arched his back and reached behind him, quickly getting his hand into his pretty, slutty underwear and prepping himself for Steve.

Steve stroked his cock slow, almost leisurely. Watched as Eddie’s mouth parted when he slipped at least two fingers inside, and the tensing of his shoulder while he thrust them in and out. Steve wondered how the lace felt against his hand, getting a little wet from the lube.

“God, as soon as you’re ready, I’m going to put those panties down to your thighs and take you while you’re facing the wall. Going feel that lace dragging against the bruises from my hips on your ass afterwards,” Steve said. His breath caught in his chest when Eddie dug his teeth into his lower lip and stared at Steve through his dark lashes.

His eyes still had that glint in them. The stars from the stage.

“Feeling real frisky there, Steve.”

Steve took in a deep, shaky breath, unable to hold back his smile. “You don’t surprise me unless you want it that way. When you want me to fuck you hard and fast, even if we didn’t have the time crunch.”

“Maybe,” Eddie muttered, arching his spine as he added another finger to whatever his count was. “You still owe me one after this, Harrington. I had to go hours in this scratchy lace while being cooked under those stage lights.”

He was a bit breathless, now. Head tipped back with a soft moan as he hit a pleasurable spot inside him, the sounds of his fingers growing louder. Steve couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and mouthed a messy pattern at the exposed line of Eddie’s throat.

 “Anything.”

”Okay, then.” Eddie’s voice lilted up, and Steve could hear the trickster idea forming in his head.

Steve was either going to seriously regret this or develop some new kink. Eddie had a way of doing that to him.

“You’re wearing them next.”

“Deal.” Steve bit lightly at Eddie’s throat and then stepped back, dragging his eyes down the line of Eddie’s body, clad in black, lace underwear. “Now, turn around.”

[theoutcastrogue]

Tagged by @st-just (thanks!) to just press shuffle on my general listening playlist 10 times and relate the results.

Thing is, I don't have a general playlist, only current ones, and I'm currently making a mixtape of execution ballads. So sadly, you're not getting any variety. You're either getting a preview of the project (I wanna make a booklet for this, I'm aiming for the moon, baby!), OR, since the grander the project the higher the chances of me never finishing it, a taste of what could have been.

The Dubliners - Sam Hall (a classic execution ballad with many versions, some of which brim with rage, while this one is rather stoic and dignified)

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Up jumped the devil (a song about a man doomed from the start to play the villain's part, and the origin of this blog's #swinging from the gallows tree tag)

Johnny Cash - 25 minutes to go (peak gallows humour at Folsom Prison, uproariously funny and defiant, and somehow still conveying the terror of a man who doesn't want to die)

Let's Play Dead - Heaven and Hell (an execution ballad recently written for the series Harlots)

Brown Bird - Gallows (an alt-folk song not strictly about gallows, but adjacent)

Joan Baez - Long black veil (a country ballad about a man falsely accused of murder, who lets himself get dragged to gallows because he won't reveal his alibi: an affair with his best friend's wife)

Ewan MacColl - Go down ye murderers (a folk song about Tim Evans, who hanged for the murder of his wife and child in 1950; the real murderer confessed 3 years later, and the case played a major role in abolishing capital punishment in the UK)

The Tiger Lillies - Hang tomorrow (the pioneers of dark cabaret reimagine Brecht's Threepenny Opera, and here, disturbingly, take all the suaveness out of Macheath)

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Mercy Seat (the Mercy Seat is the electric chair, and this is a torrent of a song, a whirlwind, a masterpiece, a 7-minute cynic snarl)

Saga de Ragnar Lodbrock - Ballade des pendus - The OG Ballad of the Hanged, written in the 15th century by the OG poète maudit, François Villon. It paints an indelible picture:

Tagging: @tuulikki, @lafcadiosadventures, @niannianyabao, @honourablejester, @swordsagedachsie,

@mrspookyfox, @vanwolffen, @ffxiv-swarm, @thelivingautomaton, everyone at @weareadventurers and anyone who wants to

[fuckmeyer]

Ok so I follow you because of your amazing analyzing and theories of twilight, but it's gotten to a point I have to consider reading your stories, and besides a Paul lahote story here or there over the years, I haven't really read twilight stories, especially ones that aren't about the Wolfpack.

I'm scared. So I wanted to ask about yours, what is it like?

Is it crazy like full of plot twists and insanity and madness covered into brilliance (the good kind) or crazy in a way that I start liking bella and edward (the terrifying part)?

(If you answer this, please consider the fact it might actually make me reread twilight (the original) and start ranting worse. For both our sanities, is it smart?)

Is it crazy like full of plot twists and insanity and madness covered into brilliance (the good kind) or crazy in a way that I start liking bella and edward (the terrifying part)?

both! liking Bella & Edward is THE biggest plot twist of this saga LOL. i'm not really one to hype my work so bear with me. here's the difference between Twilight & In The Afterlight:

the familiar:

setting. rainy rural PNW vibes

rough plot. girl meets vampire. vampire wants to kill her. love ensues. it starts you off in familiar territory, then slowly peels away as the story progresses. you'll find enough of the "iconic" scenes to keep you oriented in nostalgia, but not so much that you feel chained to the original book.

characters. no OCs. Bella & Edward are somewhat OOC, but their core traits are still intact.

the unfamiliar(ish):

Bella's personality. i think it was @blurry-walker who made this excellent point: we're supposed to like Bella because of how she's described, not by how she acts. Bella is not really selfless, mature, observant, compassionate, intellectual, or self-aware. which would be fine... if that were the author's intention. i've tried making Bella a mix between how she's described & how she acts: selfless, contemplative, & stubborn, with a sense of humor. & i threw in a backstory & hobbies - i.e, drawing, music, reading - so she has a life besides Edward. (she can still act like she's 18 tho. as a treat.)

Edward's personality. no stalking, no anger issues or mood swings, no misogyny, no invalidation of Bella's choices, no militant chastity. just a vampire who's lost his way & startled to discover he is every bit a part of this world as Bella. more humorous, more overwrought/ romantic, more contemplative.

the result is a relationship that's rooted in mutual respect, common interests & values, & genuine companionship. they talk about philosophy, they exchange mixtapes, they tease each other, & have slightly less self-control when it comes to sexual intimacy

James/Victoria plotline

twilight is less fairytale, more gothic horror

deeper thematic discussions (bc i think they're neat! :D). what does it mean to be you? how do you find yourself again when you're lost? what's the secret to keeping your humanity in death?

vampire/Cullen lore. what's the difference between a golden-eyed vampire and a red-eyed one? what are "la tua cantantes" and "mates"? why are the Cullens going to high school? what's the Cullen-Volturi relationship like? who are the Cullens, really? i'm trying to paint them as grayer characters & have their personalities/backstories make sense for who they are.

werewolf lore. i *hate* canon imprinting - how an imprinter loses him/herself to the imprint, how the imprintee can't say no, the fact that they imprint on CHILDREN when the theory behind imprinting is to "find the strongest genes"... NO. i hate it all. i hate that smeyer appropriates the legends of the Quileute tribe & how stereotypes/ tropes of Native people are perpetuated in this series. i especially hate the double-standards Bella puts on the pack vs the coven. justice for the wolfpack or bust

since you mentioned liking the wolfpack (same), the sequel, Come Nightfall (aka New Moon), has way more wolfpack content than the original, & we see a lot more interactions between Jake & Bella. (and Bella & Sam!)

i don't feel it's my place to tell you whether you should read this or even whether it's good. if it helps, this is what other people say:

"This… Was incredible. It was the kind of fanfiction that should be praised along the classics of the fandom, the kind you would want to print and put in the shelf in between Twilight and Life And Death."

"This is, to me, the epitome of great fanfiction--you took the story idea and characters and tweaked them to how you imagine it would be better as well as adding in your own flare, AND you have the story telling ability to back it up."

"You've managed to write something that not only surpasses the source material, but flies so far beyond it in nuance, craftsmanship, raw emotion and SMUT that it travelled through space and time continuum and shows no signs of stopping. Every time I think it can't get better, it does."

"I read both of your books in like 2 days; I couldn’t put them down. This is some of the best writing I’ve ever read on here."

"What a gem of a story. I read it in one sitting, the best canon rewrite I've ever read. Very very clever writing, engaging plot, and the most real Bella and Edward relationship I've ever seen. Everything about it, Bella and Jacob, Sam, Alice and Bella's dynamic, Billy and Bella, everything added so much colour to this story. I can't believe this came from Meyer's twilight and New Moon. Absolutely genius."

[icravemusicx0x0]

rating music pls dont hate me #35 | TRUE ROMANCE - CHARLI XCX

welcome to another THROWBACK WEEK entry! every five entries, in the fifth entry i will talk about a SIGNIFICANT ALBUM from the PASS. following the theme of the past four review, this entry will be about a POP album—and that is CHARLI XCX's debut 2013 album TRUE ROMANCE.

after a MESSY MYSPACE ILLEGAL RAVE DJ phase back when she was a young artist, in 2010, CHARLI XCX was signed into ASYLUM RECORDS. before her FIRST OFFICIAL ACTIVITY with the label, the BLACK-EYE-MAKEUP diva was INDEPENDENTLY releasing MIXTAPES on her SOUNDCLOUD. in 2012, she teased the release of the DEBUT ALBUM, but it was DELAYED a year later. after a whole 12 months of patiently waiting, fans got the album they are looking forward—the album which we know today with the name TRUE ROMANCE.

TRUE ROMANCE is a 47 MINUTE-LONG album with 13 SONGS. a lot of the songs inside the album we're actually SELECTED from her previous MIXTAPES. this album has already been in the making since 2010.

TRUE ROMANCE's best feature is the PRODUCTION. TRUE ROMANCE incorporates SYNTH-POP into a DARK WAVE styling, but the album still remains the essence of early 2010's ALTERNATIVE POP. if ORACULAR SPECTACULAR by MGMT has a YOUNGER SISTER with a crippling CIGARETTE addiction and a love for THE TWILIGHT SAGA, that would be TRUE ROMANCE. TRUE ROMANCE was an underrated era that needs to be talked about more. it may not be her most INFLUENTIAL work, but i would say it was her most AMBITOUS work to date by SOUNDSCAPE. thanks for the bops, RECHTSHAID.

the LYRICISM is worth talking about too. CHARLI has always been HONEST and EMOTIONALLY DIRECT, and the DEBUT really proves this. TRUE ROMANCE main THEME is, of course, LOVE. "every corner of my own ROMANTIC HISTORY is explored on this record, so for me, it's very RAW, it's very HONEST, and it's very TRUE," she said, according to a PITCHFORK article. she was right: the LYRICS are LOVESICK-CHARGED and INDULGING, but WELL AWARE and SINCERE.

TRUE ROMANCE is, overall, an AMAZING DEBUT from the artist, and a GREAT REFLECTION of CHARLI XCX's TALENTS and AMBITIONS. its has an UNSUAL production style that helped redefine what 2010's ALTERNATIVE POP artists can do. CHARLI express love in such a HONEST, TRUTHFUL way. this album shows that she's had the potential to be an ICONIC FIGURE of the ARTS, which she is now (look up her SPOTIFY BIO).

underrated gem(s): NUCLEAR SEASONS - love the strong DARK WAVE influence here, STAY AWAY, SET ME FREE (FEEL MY PAIN) - its a song about TWLIGHT SAGA, SO FAR AWAY - levitating, CLOUD AURA, WHAT I LIKE - CRIMINALLY UNDERATTED, LOCK YOU UP.

tracks that i rec listening: YOU (HA HA HA), TAKE MY HAND, GRINS, BLACK ROSES

worst track: HOW CAN I - its not as strong as the other songs but it ties in with YOU'RE THE ONE.

overall score 9.6/10 - this is all opinion so pls no hate

[moonrevolutions]

for the past 3 - 4 years i've made end of the year compilations of some of vi's best dialogue for the year but between choice subjects like

him talking about how he wanted hank hill to eat his ass in the back of a rusted pickup truck behind an autozone

doing cocaine and listening to gerry rafferty after therapy

that entire cereal mascot saga i won't even bother explaining

sleeping with his friend's dad who just got out of prison

getting beaten by a scorned white woman in a whole foods and force fed quinoa until he dies

THAT WHOLE THING ABOUT FRED FLINTSTONE!!!!!!!!!

the mutterings from a mental breakdown he had in february where he ate an entire jar of peanut butter in the car while going nearly catatonic to ambient music from the 80s

the pitch for his soundcloud mixtape under the name LILMOONTHUG420 and the way he butchered regulate by warren g......

and more.... i dont even kno where 2 begin.

[jikanet-tanaka]

Ideas for stories and such...

I'm a bit overwhelmed with plot bunnies right now, and I think writing them all out is the best way to get 'em all straight. So... here are a few ideas for future fics I'd want to write. I dunno which one(s) I should focus on first...

Assassin’s Creed Valhalla

A Saga Most Ordinary : I have ideas for two more chapters, one about Eivor playing Dungeons and Dragons with the three Good Boys, along with Hytham, Randvi and Tewdwr, and another about her and Valka Staging An Intervention because she thinks Sigurd went and joined some cult because of his new girlfriend (ie Fulke).

Untitled/maybe it’ll just be chapter two of an existing fic, I dunno: A new companion piece/sequel of sorts to ‘Nornir's Curse, Nótt's Counsel’ about Randvi and Valdis just hanging out (on the beach while their respective spouses watch over the young ‘uns) and talking about their (rather similar, really) lives.

Dishonored

Take Your Silver Spoon (Dig Your Grave) : A two-shot about two bastard-born princesses of the Kaldwin line. Part of it is already written, I just need to get off my ass and do something about it lol

You and Me and The Leviathan Makes Three : An AU where Daud survives the events of DoTO, and Billie is stuck trying to find new purpose in her life while teaching a god-turned-boy how to Human and a suicidal old man how to… not be a total wreck of a person . Oh, and the Abbey of the Everyman is falling apart all around them (which makes the Boysider happy, since his two newfound biggest goals in life are 1) to destroy organized religion and 2) to save the whales. Every chapter would be set in a different isle, with titles based on sea shanties.

Dracula

Untitled : A little one-shot about how Drac might have gotten to Mina on the night of October 3rd. Because the details are kinda hazy on that, right?

Final Fantasy XVI

The Tale of the Telamonides : Before the mission to Drake’s Head, Mid shows up to the Hideout to Bring Chaos and Shenanigans to everyone’s live. Because I was sad that we never did see her interact with Cid.

Gravity Falls

Dungeons and Dummies : …I need to finish this you guys, I already have it all planned out. I feel weirdly anxious about this story, mostly because I don’t happen to have the whole of the rules of D&D stamped in my brain (shocking, I know). It’s like I’m afraid I’ll have someone go, ‘hey, that’s not how it goes in the Player Handbook, page so-and-so blah blah blah ’ so I don’t even try, you know?? It’s a weird thing.

The Awesome Mixtape of the Apocalypse: A story where Dipper and Mabel’s parents join both sets of twins on a roadtrip to Gravity Falls. The concept would be that Mabel made a mixtape with songs for everyone in her family (so for example Ford definitely gets weird prog rock like this, listen my dad was a happier, most well-adjusted Ford, and that was his shit, car trips in my family were trippy), with each character represented by a particular musical style (the Pines mom’s got punk ska like Reel Big Fish and Streetlight Manifesto lol…) and each chapter corresponding to one song. I got every big story beat and character moment planned out, I just… need to get off my ass and write, I guess.

Horizon Zero Dawn/Forbidden West

Untitled : Aka Aloy watches Varl and Zo together, gets confused/frustrated, and shares a convo with Erend that helps her figure out she’s asexual. Sweet!

Untitled Rost and Ersa fic : Rost and Ersa, as ghosts, hang around Aloy and Erend for the events of the first game (and have a mini ship war about the merits of Ereloy as a couple). Also known as ‘Rost Gets Another Grumpy Daughter Because These Are Sure Fun To Collect Or Something’.

Mass Effect

Untitled : Just a little Shakarian ficlet about Shepard listening to Thane’s story about how he met his wife after the events in Garrus’ loyalty mission and her being like, oh, oh boy, oh no.

Radiant Historia

Will You Learn to Love (Without Consuming): A little one-shot set in the Apocrypha ‘verse which is not compliant with the canon shown in Perfect Chronology. Basically my take on who became the big Mana Monster causing the desertification (and why he’s a foil to both Heiss and the Conuts Guy).

Déjà Vécu : A one-short about Ernst and Heinrich (and, by association, Stocke and Heiss) because I guess that’s what I always write about in this damn fandom.

This Sweet Corrupting Reality : Basically the only parallel history I would have liked to see in Perfect Chronology, that is, Stocke wakes up and realizes he is now King Ernst of Granorg.

[carpediemingdork]

So...definitely tore through the Magnus Archives podcast and finished it a few days ago.

My. Gosh.

So yeah that's rewired my whole entire brain and taken a place as one of my forever favorite story sagas. I've never been into horror before but oh my. Enthralling. I have @thirdchildart to thank for introducing me to it since her storyboards were so freaking good I simply had to find out what it came from.

Anyway. I don't know if I'll be making fanart of my own or not, but I did cave in and made a playlist. I'll be tinkering with it for a while probably, refining the song choices, and eventually organizing it semi-chronologically, but anyway I just wanted to share in case anyone wants to share my brainworms. (Pun half-intended.) And if y'all have song recs you think might fit the vibe PLEASE send my way, I'd love to hear. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/15WzoAfdl189HSmmVaDNbI?si=723cccb66f1b4b14

[chaotictragedyarcade]

Name's Nio, or Speeboe. Art and shitposts are my game, and chaos is my middle name.

Currently 21, will be 22 next Spooky Month.

Things I Do: Traditional Art, Digital Art, Homemade Memes, Writing Fanfiction

Things I Like: Destiny, Destiny 2, Overwatch, Marvel, Transformers, Pokémon, Dead Space, Five Nights At Freddy's, Dying Light, The Amazing Digital Circus, Monkey Wrench, Hatsune Miku, etc.

Things I Don't Like: Pickles, etc.

Some AUs I have: The Amazing Digital Garden, Whoreverse, Soundwave’s Mixtape saga

[Currently under construction]

[sublimationleblog]

#SublimationIsWar : guerre après guerre, battle after battle

Donald Trump et Elon Musk étaient les "visages" de la mixtape créative originale Cancel Culture. Les Louvin Brothers, ceux de Satan Is Real (soutenus par le Dr. Victor Frankenstein). Muhammad Ali, aka Cassius Clay, aka The Greatest, personnifie le nouveau mix War Of Sound, le troisième volet de la trilogie de deejay-battles #SublimationIsWar Vs. Serge Coosemans. Sa parution est prévue le 3 juin.

« Tu vois, le jeune, c’est comme ça que les hommes se parlent entre eux » peut-on entendre dans une séquence de transition de The Second Battle, le deuxième volet de la trilogie. Ce sample d’une tirade de la voix française de Clint Eastwood (dans Gran Torino) prend place au moment d’un changement de contrôle. Et ce dans une séquence belge (improvisée) du mix, un morceau méconnu de Front 242 répondant à une perle oubliée de Major Problem, obscur side-project de Lords Of Acid. C’est comme ça que les vieux punks se parlent entre eux.

Auteur (“La Guerre du Son”, “Glossaire du DJ”…), blogueur (Casacosmani), chroniqueur, ancien journaliste (Rif-Raf, Voxer, Focus Vif), lui-même un temps co-animateur de podcasts (Focus Brolcast) et assembleur de mixtapes éclectiques sur Radio Rectangle (Le Grand Remplacement), Coosemans est le Mocker, un artiste de la punchline. Il participe à une nouvelle manche de notre saga Guerres et Paix (2 podcasts et 3 mixtapes). L'effet de surprise est passé mais l'intensité va crescendo.

Une troisième battle un mois après la précédente. La paix n'en finit plus ?

War And Peace (The Battle) n’avait laissé que de bons souvenirs. Sa réalisation, en mode compétitif (pour ceux qui n'auraient pas compris ce qu’est une battle…), fut une expérience divertissante, et le résultat nous semblait plutôt plaisant à écouter. Le mix a reçu de bons échos tant de connaisseurs pointus que d'un petit public de curieux, moins initiés. Coosemans et moi avons des #opinions radicalement différentes sur… à peu près tous les sujets sérieux, en plus d’un historique personnel ultra-houleux, mais placez-nous devant une pile de disques et nous serons souvent sur la même longueur d’onde... Nous nous sommes à nouveau bien amusés durant The Second Battle, la décision d'organiser un troisième round fut donc prise de façon naturelle.

Qui joue quoi dans ces sets ? The Second Battle a un côté jeu de pistes. J'ouvre le set, puis tous les les changements de contrôle (sauf un) sont subtilement annoncés. Il y a des surprises... Tones On Tail, joué par moi, faisait partie de la pré-sélection de Serge. Je l’ignorais. Killing Joke, choisi par lui, émarge aux classiques incontournables de Sublimation; j'en avais longuement parlé dans les derniers podcasts de la série #SublimationIsBack, The Public Image et Poptones.

Killing Joke, Tones On Tail, Bauhaus, The Dead Kennedys, Gang Of Four, The Human League, Eno... Je crois bien que l'album My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts de David Byrne & Brian Eno est aussi culte à ses yeux qu'aux miens... Ces références, entendues dans les battles, se trouvent à l'intersection de nos goûts musicaux, lesquels sont quelques fois très différents mais souvent complémentaires.

Ces mixtapes contiennent des titres d’artistes beaucoup moins connus.

Chacun amène son univers particulier et ses propres armes sur le champs de bataille... On s'insulte par samples interposés, ce qui est rigolo, mais c'est surtout évidemment sur le choix des morceaux - et de la manière de les amener, de les enchainer (généralement deux par deux) - que la compétition repose. Je dois reconnaître que je ne connaissais pas plusieurs des titres joués par Serge; je pense l'inverse exact. Parfois, de temps en temps, l’un de nous joue même un « tube ».

A quoi s'attendre dans cette troisième battle ?

War Of Sound (The 3rd Battle) comprend des choix audacieux et inattendus, des mashups… On y entend des samples de Muhammad Ali, mais aussi de Klaus Kinski et d’autres intervenants plus surprenants. Il s'agit, de mon avis, comme de celui de mon partenaire/adversaire, du meilleur épisode de la trilogie; le plus profond, le plus cohérent, le plus sérieux, en un sens, même si l'humour y est à nouveau bien présent.

Serge a dit de ce troisième tome sur Twitter qu'il était "plus proche de Heroes que de Lodger" (en référence à la trilogie berlinoise de David Bowie; Heroes, le deuxième opus, étant assurément le meilleur et le plus abouti des trois disques). À vous de juger... Le 3 juin sur Spotify, Deezer et Apple Podcasts.

[emeraldgreaves]

23 Books in 2023

[2022]

Finished

Loved / reread / read

The Vegetarian by Han Kang (12/29/22 - 1/4/23)

The Defining Decade by Meg Jay (1/5)

Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu (1/6)

Natalie Tan’s Book of Luck and Fortune by Roselle Lim (1/6-1/8)

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (1/5-1/11)

Network Effect (The Murderbot Diaries #5) by Martha Wells (1/4-1/19)

The Goddess Chronicle by Natsuo Kirino (12/27–1/19)

Swan Dive by Georgina Pazcoguin (1/19)

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (1/24-2/3)

Creativity, Inc. by Ed Catmull & Amy Wallace (1/20–2/9)

I’m Still Here by Austin Channing Brown (3/4)

Once Upon a Marquess by Courtney Milan (3/1-3/10)

This Is Not a Book About Benedict Cumberbatch by Tabitha Carvan (4/4)

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig (4/23)

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin (finished 4/29)

Nuclear Family by Joseph Han (4/27- 5/3)

The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula LeGuin (4/30-5/9)

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone (reread, started est. bigolas dickolas saga & finished 5/25)

The Devil Comes Courting by Courtney Milan (5/11-5/26)

Life Mask by Emma Donoghue (5/27-5/30)

Lady of the Camelias by Alexandre Dumas, fils (reread, 5/14-6/4)

My Not-So-Perfect Life by Sophie Kinsella (6/4-6/6)

The Blue Castle by L. M. Montgomery (6/6-6/7)

Shakespeare Saved My Life by Laura Bates (6/7-6/11)

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula LeGuin (6/4-6/18)

Love is a Mixtape by Rob Sheffield (6/14-6/21)

Beauty by Robin McKinley (reread, 6/22-6/24)

Geisha: A Life by Mineko Iwasaki (6/26-6/28)

A Lady of Persuasion by Tessa Dare (6/29-6/30)

Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuinston (6/30)

The Duke Who Didn’t by Courtney Milan (reread, 7/1-7/3)

Any Duchess Will Do by Tessa Dare (6/30-7/4)

Yellowface by R. F. Kuang (7/3)

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison (7/10)

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin (7/18)

Persuasion by Jane Austen (7/14-7/22)

Going Postal by Terry Pratchett (reread, 7/21)

Burnout by Emily Nagoski, PhD, and Amelia Nagoski, DMA (7/23-7/24)

Mao’s Last Dancer by Li Cunxin (7/3-7/24)

The Red Palace by June Hur (7/26-8/2)

The Farthest Shore by Ursula LeGuin (8/1-8/15)

Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett

The Queen of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner

Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg 

The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner

The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King (9/2-9/3)

Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple (9/3-9/4)

Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor (9/22-9/27)

A Mathematician’s Lament by Paul Lockhart (9/23-9/28)

Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chou (9/28-9/29)

Days of Distraction by Alexandra Chang (9/27-10/02)

Foreverland by Heather Havrilesky (10/03)

Go Set A Watchman by Harper Lee (10/21)

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (finished 10/27)

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up / Spark Joy by Marie Kondo (11/15-11/18)

Raise Your Voice by Kathy Khang (11/28)

The Swedish Art of Aging Exuberantly by Margareta Magnusson (12/5-12/6)

The Art of Discarding by Nagisa Tatsumi (12/5-12/7)

The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson (12/11)

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie (12/17-12/24)

The Queen’s Gambit by Walter Tevis (12/28-12/31)

Ongoing

The Worst Journey in the World: The Graphic Novel by Sarah Airriess (1/17–)

Lord of the Rings (via LOTR Newsletter)

DNF

Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel (12/28–1/12)

Astray by Emma Donoghue (1/4-1/13)

Time Squared by Lesley Krueger (2/10)

Mambo in Chinatown by Jean Kwok (3/18-3/19)

Density rhapsody lmao (4/4-4/18)

Madly deeply alan rickman (4/19-4/20)

Be the bridge (4/20)

The dead romantics (4/20)

Bronze drum (5/1)

This is how augusten burroughs (5/3)

Tastes like war grace m cho (5/4)

The duchess war courtney Milan (5/11)

The calculating stars mary robinette kowal (5/11)

Frugal wizard brandon sanderson

Fool moon jim butcher (5/21)

Vladimir julia may jonas (5/29)

Light from uncommon stars (6/11)

The spy who came in from the cold by john lecarre (6/25, try again later)

How not to be wrong by jordan ellenberg (6/29)

The great derangement by amitav ghosh (7/28)

i keep my exoskeletons to myself by marisa crane (9/16)

the key to rebecca by ken follet (10/03. not even tim downie can rescue this)

Frostblood by Ely Blake (11/something - 12/11)

Too Like The Lightning by Ada Palmer (12/17. wanted to love it though)

The expatriates by janice yk lee (12/27)

[omanxl1]

Funky Vibes Mixtape 2023 - Dj XS Patreon Edits Sample Mix (Soul, Funk, RnB, Hip Hop & Disco)

Funky Vibes Mixtape 2023 – Dj XS Patreon Edits Sample Mix (Soul, Funk, RnB, Hip Hop & Disco)

Digital Crate Digging Continues on this Thankful Thursday, so called because it’s a blessing to be here! The saga / struggle continues! this work will be of a retro futuristic nature due to it also being a Throwback Thursday, so yeah! we’re taking it there! Oh yeah, we’re out here! it’s like my bio in my Twitter account! also like the sweatshirt homie was rocking out at Southlake Mall in…

[sunnysatori]

I posted 2,377 times in 2022

That's 2,312 more posts than 2021!

123 posts created (5%)

2,254 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hilbe

@n-x-black

@aloisiahalo

@the-pros-and-cons-of-shipping

@insomniac-ships

I tagged 522 of my posts in 2022

#ask to tag - 72 posts

#pro ship - 40 posts

#pro fiction - 39 posts

#pro ship safe - 39 posts

#anti harassment - 37 posts

#anti anti - 37 posts

#antis dni - 36 posts

#my ramblings - 32 posts

#anti censorship - 29 posts

#deltarune - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i know we don’t say cinnamon roll anymore bc it’s ~cringe~ but i refuse to let go of a cute harmless term just bc of what other people think

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

hello dhmis fandom

62 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

#4

the long-awaited next installment in the krispam twitter saga

84 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

#3

im smarter than everyone in this fandom

107 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

#2

i’m glad sans can return home safely to his wife komaeda and their beautiful son, basil

125 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

somebody needs to take my photo editing privileges away from me

for context: the music part is referring to spaceboy’s mixtape and to the very very iconic video of hitoshi singing shakira’s “hips don’t lie”

197 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ylisabet]

The Mom Saga: A Rollercoaster Ride of Love, Laughs, and Unforgettable Moments

In the wild whirlwind of life’s circus, amidst the chaos and the calm, there’s this one rockstar who steals the show every single time – Mom. Her love is like that epic song you can’t get out of your head, always playing in the background of your life, whether you like it or not. And let’s be real, her playlist is a mixtape of love, sacrifice, and the occasional guilt trip thrown in for good…

[the-kinfolk-wellin-chronicles]

The Captain Ginyu Syndrome

New Blog Alert!

What’s New? I’m excited to share that I’ve added new vlogs to my YouTube channel under the podcast section. These include: The Black Power Video Mixtape Saga: This vlog features my freestyle sessions and songs recorded live and unfiltered. I created it in memory of my brother, who always asked me why I don’t make songs like how I freestyle. Kinfolk Wellin’: My Life on the Road: This vlog…