#this is my brotp don't touch me

[raayllum]

“Ez,” Rayla greets thickly, the worst lump by far rising in her throat. There’s no anger or reservation in his eyes, only the sweet-eyed bashfulness she remembers so well.

“Hey.” He raises a small hand in greeting, and she steps forward to hug him before she can stop herself because—she remembers the way his face would tuck against her shoulder, too, his chin just brushing her collarbone, and that’s not—

She peels back, trying to muster up a frown, but she’s smiling too much for it, embarrassingly blinking back tears. “When you’d get so bloody tall?” she laments like a sap, and Ezran chuckles.

Hugs her, his chin resting on her shoulder this time. “It’s good to see you too.”

#tdp #the dragon prince #i miss them so much don't touch me #brotp: it's super annoying #ezran #rayla #brotp #ficlet #my fic #fic

[carolmunson]

always something there to remind me (s.h.)

summary: ten years after the sealing of the upside-down, you and your fiance steve head to a cookout to unwind during memorial day weekend. with steve on edge after a rough half sleep full of night terrors, you hope the day can be salvaged by seeing the party and just relaxing, but a violent thunderstorm changes those plans for the worse. pairings: steve x reader, lumax, edancy. heavy on the steddie brotp tho.

tw: 18+ as always. this story deals with themes of mental illness and ptsd, it is only intended for mature audiences. descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, internal and external (please be advised they are dramatizations). partner violence (unintentional). drinking/smoking. discussions of mental illness. very moody steve but very soft steve. features some tense arguments. smut, like, very loving and passionate smut. this relationship is not perfect, it's also a depiction of a moment in time in 1997. the emotional load was very much a woman's job and i personally think steve would be 'too proud' to be 'too soft' about his stuff. so there are parts that seem kind of 'eh' but -- that's just how things were sorta. gif by @kingofscoops

His pill case sounded like a rattle when you took it from the medicine cabinet, taking it into the kitchen where he was shrugging on his freshly ironed polo. The ironing board and hot iron still set up by the counter. The black stone contrasted nicely against your cherry wood cabinets that he installed two summers ago. That was when you both thought he might be getting better: the night terrors were less and less frequent, the flashbacks far and few between, he was less tense, less irritable. Seeking you constantly for soft touches and kisses, any kind of affection he could pull from you he'd take willingly. Two years ago was your two year anniversary -- when he finally told you the real story. Why he had all those scars, why he can't sleep, why he wakes up in a cold sweat crying. Why you'd never been able to figure out which health care company was providing him with so much medication and therapy when he was working part time at the hospital -- it's because it was the FBI.

It was two years ago where they took you to an underground office where they told you everything. Steve sat next to you, gripping your hand so tightly you thought it might break. They reassured over and over that nothing was coming back, that everything was over, but that Steve and his friends will likely never recover emotionally and mentally from what they endured. Four years into things now, you were both his fiance and his nurse. You checked in monthly with his caseworking team, but in these last few months, they've had nothing but shaky reports. You wondered if maybe his mind just isn't as sharp as it used to be -- you both just entered your thirties, maybe things get knocked loose quicker when you've been to hell and back. "Here, honey," you say softly, putting his pill case on the table. He looks at them and sighs, amber eyes lingering on the 'Saturday' section of the pill box. "Let me get you some wa--" "You don't need to give me my pills every day," he says -- it's soft and sharp, "I know I have to take them. I've been takin' them for ten years."

You offer him a tight smile, "I know, Stevie..." You trail off. 'It's important that he feels in control of the situation, a lot of his role when he was in this situation was to protect others. Try not to baby him about it, he might be fragile, but he doesn't like to feel like he is.'

"It's just...I don't want a repeat of last year," you quietly remind him. He had gotten too sure of himself when he started to feel better -- missing days, stopping altogether, off and on.

He reaches for the pill case and pops open the Saturday square, tossing the main five pills into his palm and then into his mouth. Pain, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, migraine, blood thinner. The heavy stuff sat in the cabinet above the fridge: Quaaludes, Oxycontin, Sumatriptan, Clozapine -- among others. Every day was a reminder to him that he didn't come out of this a stronger person. His dad let him know that at every visit, treating him like he had a son made of glass. "Don't," he says after he swallows, "Don't start with me."

Your eyes narrow in on the finger he puts up in warning and travels down to his big hand, a vein popping in his forearm and under the band of his watch. His bicep flexes against his polo, you follow it across the expanse of his chest and down the other arm, landing back on the pill case.

You knew last night what kind of day it would be this morning. Desperate reaches for you while he woke up from another nightmare, his damp chest up against yours while he hid his face in your neck. He hugs you so tightly to him so he doesn't float away, and you match his strength as best you can until he falls back asleep. Sometimes it takes hours of stroking his hair and soothing him before he feels safe enough to even close his eyes. In the years you've been together, he's been more and more embarrassed over these needier nights. 'It's just, baby -- I'm a man. I have to get over all this shit.'

"I'm not starting anyth--" "You are," he warns, eyes narrowing. He clenches his jaw, "Don't."

"M'sorry," you breath out. You take the pill case when he sets it back down and bring it back upstairs to the main bathroom. You refill the case before placing it back in the medicine cabinet with a sigh. When it closes you look at yourself in the mirror, no longer the fresh 26 year old he met at the hospital admin desk when he started his part time job as an assistant in the children's psych floor. Gaining hours towards getting his pediatric therapist licensure to help kids who were like him and his friends -- well, sort of. To some extent. You smooth over your button down dress, his favorite one in your closet -- navy blue with beige flowers littering the fabric. It flounces over you in dips and swoops, falling just under your knee. Another sigh and you grab your purse from the bedroom and slip on your sandals, clip clopping down the stairs where you hear him grab the keys. Another Saturday morning where the group gets together and just hangs out, even though Steve sees Eddie, Rob, and Dustin pretty often throughout the week. They've been doing it for years now, but the outside buzzed with the promise of summer, Memorial Day weekend making everyone feel more at ease. Everyone except Steve.

He slams the car door when he gets in the drivers seat, making you jump in the leather of his Lexus. He runs his hands over his jean clad thighs, having grown in size over the last six years with age and trips to the gym. 'I just wanna be in like, peak physical condition if anything tries to come back. I wanna be more ready than when I was a kid, y'know?' And while the muscle was certainly titilating, it made for a very wary you when things went left. "Don't be like that, Stevie," you say softly, your voice calm and gentle like it is with patients on the floor, "I promise I wasn't trying to get on your case. Do you -- I don't know, do you wanna just stay home?" "No," he snaps, looking ahead toward the road as he starts the car, "I didn't pack a cooler full of all the shit you made for this cook-out just the stay home." "Can you relax?" you ask a little harsher than you planned, "Are you even good to drive?" "I'm good. To drive," he says through gritted teeth, pulling down the street. "Are you sure? 'Cause -- Honey you -- you didn't sleep so good last night and I --" He hits the breaks hard, stopping short at a stop light turning to look at you, tilting his head a bit to glare at you down the slope of his straight nose.

"Drop it," he says, the tenseness in his voice sends a chill up your spine. "Stevie I'm not trying t --" "Drop. It." he warns again, "Don't make me raise my voice at you." "Don't talk to me like that," you say sharply while he pulls the car forward when the light turns green. "Then don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he snaps back. "Well maybe if you didn't have an attitude with me like one I wouldn't have to," you cross your arms over your seat belt and huff. He shakes his head slowly, tongue tight between his teeth. He thought he knew better than to fall in love with someone who had a tongue as sharp as his. "You're askin' for an argument when you say shit like that to me," he says lowly, the Lexus crunching over helicopter seeds while he navigates through the neighborhood. You see his shoulders rise and fall while he attempts to steady himself -- fuse lit and ready to blow. "I'm sorry," you follow up, a deep breath filling your chest. You uncross your arms to lean your elbow on the edge of the window, resting your cheek in your hand, "I didn't mean that." "You did," he responds, tight and frustrated, quiet. He hastily reaches into his back pocket with one hand, eyes still on the road. Steve pops a cigarette between his full lips and you sigh at the sound of the lighter flicking. “What’s wrong now, hm?” he asks while the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth, “What’s your problem?” “Nothing,” you say – it’s something. He takes a drag and blows the smoke out the open window, “It’s just that you bought that pack yesterday and it’s already half way gone. You always chain smoke when you –” “Give me a fucking break,” he snaps, voice raising with each word, “God, can you let me have fuckin’ anything?” “No Steve, I guess not. God forbid I look out for your heal–” you start sarcastically. “Look out for yourself, baby,” he says sharply into the rearview so you can see his glare, “I’m doin’ just fine without you on my back.” You bicker the rest of the way to Ed and Nancy’s house, he only raises his voice one more time. 

Eddie and Nancy's wedding was one for the ages, something about the mixture of straight laced and all over the place that made sense when they tied the knot. The pair, you were told, seemed unlikely until Eddie was in recovery after being removed from the Upside Down. He was down there for six months, tested on for another six. The Party and the older kids would visit him every day, keeping him updated and fed and hydrated. They'd cheer him on when he made advances in his mobility -- but for the most part he just needed rest. Nancy was working a lot, throwing herself into journalism like she always wanted, so she'd come to the hospital late. She wasn't really one for small talk so instead, she'd just read. She'd read aloud while he was asleep, her voice slow and calm -- stoic. Keeping him lulled like still water, she didn't even know if he knew she was there. One night, she picked up where she left off on the first installment of Lord of the Rings, continuing in her soft stoic voice. She watched him lay there with his eyes closed, breath steady, the beeps of the hospital machines in quiet rhythm with him. She at frist felt silly before she started, but maybe in his dreams he could hear her, and maybe just maybe if she does something fun, he won't have nightmares tonight. So she tries it...she puts on a silly voice for Samwise, and she continues with her silly voices. Gruff and manly for Aragorn, gleeful for Sam, some weird form of Scottish for Gimli. She bites her lip, smiling as she tries each one, shaking her curly head at her ridiculousness and stops. Then she hears it...the low rumbling giggle from Eddie in his hospital bed. "Keep going, it's funny..." he said with a grin, eyes still closed. "You can hear me?" she asked, trying to stifle her giggle. "I can hear you every night," he said, eyes peering open slightly, "It's the best." "Do you want me to keep reading?" she asked with a blush. He nods, a soft grin pulling up on his lips while he eyes closes again, "Only if you do the voices."

When you park in the driveway it's clear that the rest of the group arrived before you, their cars already Tetris'd into their places. Steve lugs the cooler out of the back seat with a grunt, hoisting it to rest on his broad shoulder. You roll your eyes at his machismo, like someone is watching him at all times and he has something to prove. You both walk to the back, the sounds of music and conversation and laughter bubbling louder and louder as you get to the gate of the yard.

A symphony of 'Heeeyyy!' and 'There he is!' and 'Finally!' come from the group as he opens the gate and you follow in toe. Eddie comes over quickly to help with the cooler, his hair still as long as it was when he was 20 – the only real updates being his five o’clock shadow and the ring in his nose. A few more weary tired lines by his eyes. His home made Iron Maiden muscle tee had a small sweat mark by the neckline – they must’ve been out here getting ready all morning. “Hey man,” he grins when the cooler gets set down, pulling Steve in for a tight hug. “Hey,” Steve smiles, patting his back hard, savoring the hold. “You alright?” Eddie asks when he lets go, putting a hand to his face, “You feeling okay?” Steve smiles tightly and nods but Eddie only half buys it, returning his look before turning to you. He comes forward, kissing both your cheeks with his full lips, scruff scratching at your skin, “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hi Ed,” you grin, watching everyone else come up to say their hellos. “Where’s Nance?” Steve asks, but his question is answered when she waddles out of the sliding door of the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. From the back, you’d have no idea she was seven months pregnant, but from the side – let’s just say, it was gonna be a real big boy. “Honey, what did I say?” Eddie calls out, walking over to her and taking the pitcher. “It’s not even heavy,” she chides back with an exasperated eye roll. You giggle at their bickering, listening to their sweet back and forth with a gentle ache in your chest. You wonder if Steve will be the same way when you’re pregnant. You wonder if the back and forths will sound so sweet, so innocent, so soft. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the cooler opening, turning to look and grab what you can to put in the fridge inside. Steve takes the meat out to put by the grill and a few appetizers that you put together last nice. You take the icebox cake and chocolate covered strawberries, hurrying with them through the sliding door into the kitchen. “I know, mommy just thinks she can do it all,” Eddie coos, resting his hands on Nancy’s stomach while she slices cheeseburger toppings on the counter, “She just won’t rest, are you gonna be like that too? You gonna run me ragged? You gonna be just like mommy?” Nancy laughs and it’s half airy, half from deep in her belly, “Look, it’s just better if I’m active so that I’m not surprised by it when he’s born.” “I know,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I know. You still love me, Wheeler?” “Love you always,” she grins, blushing when she sees you come in with desserts, “Oh! Oh my goodness, let me help you!” “I got it!” you say, “Just hope there’s room in the fridge!” When everything’s loaded up you give each other a hug, watching as Eddie and Steve have a mildly stern conversation about who is grilling what. ‘It’s my grill.’  ‘And? It’s my meat.’ 

“Do you think they should just kiss?” you ask while you watch them. “Honestly, I feel like they need to at this point," she laughs, "Go on outside, I’ll be out in a few,” Nancy encourages and you make your way back out into the very early summer heat – mugginess starting to soak the air around you. Before you know it, you’re already being pulled over to the picnic table to watch a game of Magic the Gathering between Lucas, Max, Dustin, Mike, and Will. El doesn’t come back to Hawkins very much,so you’ve been told – she’s the only person from the group you haven’t met. “So is this like D&D?” you ask, resting your cheek against your palm while you lean on the table. “Yes and no,” Max explains, looking at her options, “It’s like…” “Like poker but D&D,” Dustin says, making Mike, Will, and Lucas snort. “I think that’s the easiest way to explain it to you,” Mike says. “I trust that,” you laugh with them. You’ve been consistently hopeless with trying to learn the mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons but still enjoy watching, loving it more when Steve decides to join a campaign. He lets loose in ways you’ve never seen when he does, smiling and laughing, free like a child in the summertime. The sun beating on your back suddenly disappears when you hear Steve come up behind you with a hand on your shoulder, “Can I have my glasses, honey?” “They’re in the glove box,” you say, turning around, “Why do you need them?” “Oh, is Erica making you read her thesis outline?” Lucas asks, “Just tell her to buzz off. She already passed it in.” “Sinclair – don’t be an asshole,” Steve gives him a look that can only be described as ‘bitchy’, “She wants some assurance. We need another psychologist in the family, and she’s obviously the only one smart enough to get it done.” “Rude,” Max deadpans, flicking her eyes up at him. “You’re rude, twerp,” he says back, he turns back to you after sucking his teeth, "My glasses?"

“I just said, in the glovebox,” you repeat, a little sharper than you meant to. He lets out a huff through his nose, looking at you like he can’t believe you’d get snippy with him before stomping off toward the gate of the yard. “Is he alright?” Dustin asks quietly, “I saw him on Thursday he just…I don’t know, he seems a little tense.” “He had a bad night,” you explain, toying at a splinter in the wood, “He’ll be okay.” The sun disappears again but not from the expanse of your fiance’s shoulders and chest, but from a thick cloud moving slowly across the sky. The relief from the heat is almost welcomed until you feel the humidity raise a bit in the air – a little too tight, a little too suffocating for your taste. 

The party is in full swing while Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch,’ blares from the boom box, Nancy and Max screaming the lyrics with abandon while the boys groan. You smile at how much fun they’re having, the afternoon going smoothly enough that you haven’t had time to notice how cloudy the sky had become. Your eyes linger on Steve, glasses on while looking at Erica’s thesis outline with her on the back porch. He had a pen in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the fifth one in the last hour and a half.  "You got something here," he says to her, tapping his pen while continues reading, "Your argument's really strong -- especially about the rates of homelessness, it's almost always trauma related." "Well -- I am me," she says. He raises his brows and nods in agreement. "Can't spell America without Erica," he teases. You watch him, how gentle he is and how he taps through outline, asking her questions about how she feels about the finished thesis, where she got it bound, if the articles he sent over were helpful. They speak in words you don't understand, but it's okay -- he looks calmer, brows softened while they talk, so encouraging. "I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed --"

Eddie's rasp pierces the groups singing and conversation as he belts the lyrics next to his wife. Everyone looks up to watch him go, laughing as he does. "We should cover this," he grins, "Me and the guys, we gotta cover this at the next show." "So you can get boo'd off the stage?" Mike laughs. "So I can make sure your ass doesn't get in the bar?" he asks back. Mike scowls while Dustin laughs at him -- it's always smarter to not try it with Eddie, he'd always get you back ten fold. With a jolt, you feel something cold hit your hand, looking down to see a water drop splat against your skin. Then another, and another, and another. After the fourth or fifth, the rain starts to come down -- and then it starts to pour. "Alright!" Nancy calls, "Everyone grab something and head inside." The Party rises, wincing as the rain pellets down on them while everyone grabs a foil tray or covered Pyrex filled with food. You follow suit, hurrying inside with the undressed cheeseburgers and buns, laying them safe on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone else starts to file in, Steve and Eddie turning off the grill while the sky starts to darken significantly. The first rumble of thunder sends everyone's face to a flat line -- you wished Robin wasn't spending the weekend in New York City so that you'd have someone on the front lines with you and Nancy to keep everyone at ease. Nancy and Robin definitely had their moments but had a much tighter grasp on the world around them now.

A few flashes of lightening crack followed by deep rumbles of thunder. Boom, crack! Boom, crack, crack! You notice everyone resettle themselves around the kitchen table -- jittery, quiet. You sit down across from Steve while he looks down, following the woodgrain with his finger. You keep your gaze on his chest, watching for a tell -- he swallows the frustration he feels from having your eyes on him. "It's alright guys, just a storm," Nancy reminds everyone gently while she brings in the last of the food from outside. Eddie gets her seated before opening things back on the counter, the kitchen smelling like barbecue while he opens the foils. The conversations start around you again while you sit across from Steve, the tension sitting like a weighted stone in your chest. Another flash of lightning and that's when you notice it, the twitch of his hand. The thunder rumbles and he reaches up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses. Shit. "You okay, honey?" you ask him softly. He swallows, jaw clenching, "Mhm." "Okay," you nod, trying not to bring attention to it just yet, just incase it passes. The thunder booms again and he lets out a breath through his nose, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes more agressively. You tap your foot under the table and he can hear it, he can hear everything in the room -- the scrapes of foil on foil. The separate conversations. Eddie's laugh while he talks to Nancy. The clinks of silverware. Ice in cups. The drumming of fingers. Your tap. Tap. Tap. Tapping. Under the fucking table could you just stop tapping your fucking foot -- The next crack of lightening is so intense it shakes the house and everyone gets quiet. 'Just a storm', Nancy reminds, but her voice sounds far away. Thunder rumbles again in the distance and he swears when the lightening flashes through the windows it's red. He rubs his eyes again, a short burst of breath coming through his nose. 'Honey?' he hears you but its like he has cotton in his ears. The thunder rumbles again, the slick squelching of vines starts to creep into the sound of it. Another crack of lighting and the lights in the kitchen flicker. But when they turn back on Steve isn't with the group anymore. He's not even in the kitchen. He's back at the Creel House. 'Baby? Steve?' your voice is distant -- does Vecna have you? Did he find you? Is he taking you away from him? Steve whimpers, getting out of the chair, pulling at the roots of his light brown locks -- desperate to pull himself out of the memory, "Help, please..."

"I'm here, Steve," you say rounding the table while the rest of the group stands back, getting ready to help. Max grabs a boom box and Lucas runs to his car to grab his tapes with everyone's favorite songs on it -- just in case. Dustin approaches him slowly, hands out in front of him while Steve shrinks to the floor, back against the cabinets. "Steve, it's me, it's Dustin," he says calmly and slowly, "You're in Eddie's kitchen, Steve." But Steve only hears Dustin saying his name -- Dustin must be in trouble. "I'm coming," Steve says, eyes shut tight, falling further away. You watch as sweat grows on his hair line and neck, muttering a fuck under you breath. This was gonna be a bad one. "Honey, honey," you continue, kneeling down in front of him to ease his hands off of his hair, "You're okay, you're safe. I'm with you." 'Honey.' He hears your voice in the distance, searching for you in the blue black haze of the Upside Down, the thick particles of dust in his eyes. The slither of vines covers the walls and the floors while he ascends the stairs -- where are Nancy and Robin? Weren't they with him? "Nance?" You watch him call out for Nancy and she goes to get up but Eddie puts his hand delicately on her shoulder. He shakes his head no at her, "Just talk to him," he says to her. 'I'm here, Steve, it's okay!' 'It's okay!' But it's not Nancy's voice, it gets more an more deep, more gravelly, more like him. Steve flinches in front of you, soft 'no, no, no's slipping from his mouth. 'Stevie...' Where are you? Does he have you? 'S̷T̴E̶V̴I̷E̵.'

The sound of Vecna's voice booms in his ears, the thunder rumbling, the red lighting flashing to light up the house. You were never here -- Vecna tricked him. He breathes hard, looking around while the vines snake around, searching for him. "Okay, okay baby," you say hurriedly, watching him while he starts to hyperventilate. You raise your voice to get through to him, "Honey you gotta take some deep breaths for me, okay? Can you hear me?" Max and Lucas come back, smacking the tape into the radio and fastforwarding until Marc Cohn's Walking In Memphis crackles through the speakers. They both heave breaths while the song plays, leaning over the table to settle down from running. "You hear the song, honey?" you ask, "Can you hear it? Talk to me, Steve." You reach your hands up, sliding slowly up his chest to rest your hands by his jaw in a soothing touch. But for Steve in the Creel House, the vines have found him, slithering up his chest and around his neck, tighter and tighter against the wall. He tenses, big hands coming up and grabbing your wrists with a grip so tight you whimper. "No, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! STOP! NO! I CAN'T!" he panics, gasping for breath while his nails dig into your forearms and drag painfully downward why he tries to pull you away. "Ow, ow baby, hey, you're hurting me," you yelp out. He doesn't stop, eyes switching from tightly closed to open and unfocused while he reaches up to your biceps, clawing at them in defense. You reach out a final time. "Honey, honey, please, it's me," you say, tears balancing on your lower lashes while he rises, taking you with him. He handles you real rough, grabbing you by the shoulders and throwing you to the ground with a loud thud. And god does it hurt.

"HEY!" Eddie's voice booms out, gruff and loud like the rumbles of thunder outside. He gets behind Steve, pulling his arms close to his chest while Steve struggles against him. Erica and Mike hurry toward you to help you slowly up off the floor. You reel at first, wanting to run back to him. "Stay in front of her Wheeler," Ed warns, "You all stay right there." You stand behind Mike with Erica who takes your hand tightly in hers. You feel the pulse of pain in your arms when you look down -- gouges and deep scrapes, the blood shines in the line of the kitchen. You shake your head out of it and watch on as Eddie and Dustin do what they can to help -- the song continues to play in the background. "No, no," Steve whimpers, twisting his wrists in Eddie's grasp to break free, but in this state Eddie is stronger. He pulls him close, Steve back to his chest while they sink back down against the cabinets. "Shh," Eddie soothes, still holding him tight, "We got you, just listen -- you're in my kitchen. You hear the song playing?" Steve grunts, thrashing while Eddie hugs him tighter to him. "Steve, listen, listen to the song," Dustin says, "Focus on me and Eddie's voice, listen." Steve struggles, less intense than before, "Shh, shh, it's okay Harrington," Eddie soothes, rocking him slowly back and forth. "They need me," Steve cries weakly, breaths slowing while he pulls again at Eddie's hold, "Gotta save 'em..." "Steve," Dustin says again, getting closer. He rubs his shoulder slowly, pressing his thumb into the joint, "We're safe, all the kids are safe." "Safe..." he repeats back. Eddie sighs a little in apprehensive relief, letting go of one wrist to run a hand over his head, turning Steve's face into his chest and holding him close. "That's right, Steve," Eddie says softly, "Safe." 'Saw the ghost of Elvis, on Union Avenue, Followed him up to the Gates of Graceland And they watched him walk right through...' Steve can hear the lyrics, warbled and tinny in the Upside Down. 'Safe, safe, safe.' Echoing through the walls -- it gets dimmer. 'Now security they did not see him, They just hovered round his tomb...' Dimmer and dimmer. 'Almost over buddy, I can tell, we're right here. You feel Henderson?' A soft warm rub on his shoulder, the lyrics to the song, Eddie's voice. The sound of vines fade away, he hears the rain, it fades to black. "Walkin' in Memphis..." Steve whispers, half confused, while his eyes open and focus -- squinting in the light of the kitchen. Overwhelmed he looks around while the room tilts on it's axis. He grips Eddie's leg tightly to steady himself, he's breaths picking up again. "It's okay buddy, it's just us," Eddie says again, "You with me?" Steve nods, face cracking while he lets out a broken sob. You can only watch while Eddie flicks his eyes up at you in another warning to not come closer yet. Dustin let's go while Eddie starts to hoist him up, wrapping Steve's arm around his shoulder while he helps him to the guest room down the hall. "C'mon big boy," he says gently, "Let's get you some rest."

Things feel a little quiet after Eddie comes back from the guest room, he's tense -- no longer having fun the way he was before. His eyes are dark while he heads outside into the rain to have a cigarette. Lucas turns off the stereo and The Party sits back down at the kitchen table for a moment to decompress. They silently take out of the Magic the Gathering cards and start to set up again, Erica joins them seamlessly. When things seems a semblance of stable, Nancy gets up and takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, "Let's check you out, alright?"

You sit on the toilet seat cover while Nancy takes out a first aid kit from under the sink. You listen while she hums the climax of Whitney's 'I Have Nothing' quietly, searching the medicine cabinet for some Bactine for your cuts.

"Are you okay?" she asks, taking both of your hands to outstretch your arms, she turns them to see the damage -- she tries to hide her face of disappointment but it's clear.

"I'll be fine," you say softly while she wipes down the gouges and scrapes, "I can take care of it Nance."

"No, you just -- just let me," she says softly. The Bactine stings -- so does the way she looks at you -- pitifully. You hear Eddie's boots clomp down the hallway before he shows up at the door frame of the bathroom.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks -- you wish people would stop asking. They only ask when they see him lose control. You do this all the time, you take care of him all the time.

"I'm okay," you repeat, "A little banged up, but y'know. It's okay."

"Does he do that alot?" Eddie asks, his jaw clenching, "Does he hurt you a lot?"

"This is one of maybe...I don't know -- four times he's gotten physical with me during an episode," you explain, "And you all know about them."

"Does he hurt you when he's here?" Eddie asks, tapping at his temple.

"No, Ed, don't be ridiculous," you sigh, exasperated that he'd even ask.

"Steve's not like that, Eddie," Nancy says, "We've been over this." "Well, here's the thing Nance," he starts, tense, "We're ten years out of this shit and no matter how bad my shit got I've never put a hand on you like that. Ever." "Eddie --" "No, no, listen," he says, "I don't like that, and I especially don't like that happening in my house in front of my pregnant wife." "And what would you like me to do about it, Ed?" you snap, "I can't -- fuck -- I can't fucking fix him for you." "I'm not asking you to fix him," he says back, a pain deep in his chest coming through with his voice, "I'm asking you to be sure that you still want to be a part of this -- your wedding's what -- October? You really wanna be worrying about this?" "For better or for worse, right?" you ask back, choking on the lump in your throat, "That's the promise." Eddie tucks his lips in, his own eyes getting teary while he scans the gouges that Nancy carefully puts bandaids over. "Ice your hip and shoulder for the first couple days," he mutters, biting the edge of his them, "After a fall like that. Then heat." You nod, quietly murmuring a thank you. "S'what my mom used to do," he says under his breath. Eddie scans you slowly one more time, swallowing hard before pushing off the door frame and walking back down the hall. You hear their bedroom door click closed in the distance. "You know how he gets," Nancy says, "Stuff like that y'know -- that's hard for him." "I know." She takes a washcloth, running it under cold water before squeezing it out. Droplets fall on the fabric of her light purple maternity shirt, leaving dark people marks on the top of her belly. She hands it to you. "Here, for his head," she says softly, "In case he's not all the way back yet."

You creep slowly into the guest room, seeing him laying on his stomach with half his face buried in the pillow. His sculpted arms tucked under it to give him something to hold. "Baby?" you ask quietly, "You awake?" He nods with his eyes closed and you look him over -- big hulking man who needs to be held. He hates it but you can't help but love him for knowing he needs it. You put the wet face cloth on the side table, sliding down next to him while he moves over to his side. In one swift motion you've replaced the pillow -- arms wrapping tight around your waist and up your back, one hand molding over your shoulder. He hides his face in your neck and you can feel his tears on his lashes and cheeks. His shoulders shake while he cries for a while, cold sweat damp on his shirt and the back of his neck. You never check how long he cries for – as long as he does. “I’m here,” you say softly, nails grazing his scalp in a steady swipe, “I’m right here.” You adjust a bit in his hold and you feel his grip tighten slightly, a soft whine of desperation leaking from his throat. “Don’t go, please,” he begs softly. “M’not going anywhere big guy,” you soothe, “This wedding’s already put us ten grand in the hole. Where would I even go, now?” You hear a soft ‘tsss’ come out of him, a tug of a smile against the skin of your neck where he hides. 

“Oh, is that funny?” you joke, still coasting your fingers through his hair. He groans, letting his arms let go of you so he can sit up, you can see the tension in his body still. Steve looks down at you with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, beckoning you forward with his fingers. You sit up for your thank you kiss, his warm palm cupping your cheek while he holds you gently in place. He kisses once slowly, then twice, three times – holding the last so you know he means it. When you break away he rests his forehead against yours, offering a few shallow breaths. You stand up off the bed while he sits off the edge of it, standing between his thighs. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asks softly. He asks after every episode ever since he did hurt you back when you first started dating. A swift smack to the arm that stung for a solid twenty minutes afterward with the amount of power he put into it. It welted. He cried for hours. He wrote you love letters every day for a week. 

You nod, showing him the scratches and bandages on your arms, "I think you thought I was a vine or something. You threw me. Like, to the ground. It was pretty hard."

His lower lip quivers, "No, no, no." “No, Steve,” you assure, trying to calm him, “It’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s alright, I’m alright. It was an accident.” 

His face contorts while the tears start again, his big hands reach out to your waist, pulling you close to him, "It's not okay, it's not alright."

His voice raises an octave while he cries, "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay, Stevie, shh," you whisper to him, he pulls you in tighter, body shaking while pressing his nose against your cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cries, sniffling, "You know I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," you say back, your own cry getting caught in your throat. He sniffles again, leaning back to face you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing the apples.

"I love you," he says with a depth and intensity that makes the lump in your throat give way. You cry with him and it breaks his heart, "I love you so much honey, you know I’d never…"

You nod, trying to calm your cry the way he was able to calm his -- so used to swallowing it up even though you'd beg him not to.

"I – shit – I have to tell you something," he says softly, hands sliding from your cheeks back down to your waist and then your hips. He looks down at the small triangle of mattress between you and the apex of his thighs.

"What's up, Steve?" you ask, running your hands through his hair again soothingly, "What is it?"

He lifts his head up, eyes shutting at the comforting touch, but when he opens them he looks defeated -- guilty, "I haven't been taking my meds at night. I was -- was flushin’ them cause I just -- baby, I don't know. I can't keep depending on this shit."

"Steve."

"I know," he nods, "I know...That's why -- that's why my shit's getting worse."

"You're not just taking this stuff to take it," you say, cupping his cheeks, "It's to keep you here. It's to keep you with me."

"I know," he repeats, voice cracking again, "I'll call my shrink tomorrow I promise. I'll get back on track. Fuck -- I'm sorry -- and I'm -- I'm sorry I was so mean to you this morning."

"It's okay," you nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You drop your hands and rub his shoulder, "I think we should go home, alright? We can get on the couch for the night and just rest."

"Okay," he says quietly, nodding. He slowly gets up off the bed, a little dizzy, using you for support. You both slowly walk out of the bedroom, Nancy peeking around the end of the hall.

"Everything good?" she asks.

You smile at her, "Yeah, I think we're gonna head home."

She smiles tightly, heading into the kitchen where the rest of the group still sits, eating and talking. Their heads turn when you both come into view -- soft eyes and smiles.

"I'm okay, guys," Steve nods, barely able to meet their gazes, "It's fine."

Nancy approaches you with a few tupperwares filled with food and dessert, "We'll get the cooler back to you on Tuesday."

"Don't worry about it," you smile, gathering the tupperware in your arms. You watch as the group gets up one by one to give Steve a hug goodbye. Their movements are slow and controlled, warning touches on his shoulders beforehand to remind him ‘It’s just me, it’s just my arms, I’m hugging you’. Soft mumbled words of support, nothing too loud – don’t startle each other. Wraiths of the friendship they all shared earlier. Rehearsed reactions to all of their sensitive needs – if you’ve seen one episode, you’ve seen all of theirs. And you had, once or twice. “I’ll get a copy bound for you,” Erica says while she hugs him. “You make me so proud, Sinclair,” he smiles. Nancy walks you both to the door and you turn, “How’s Ed?” “He’ll call later,” she nods, a look behind her eyes that matches yours. You hug goodbye, share quick reminders about food for the baby shower and a few crafty decoration plans before heading to the car with a very tired Steve. The rain patters on the hood of the Lexus while you both sit in the leather interior, this time with you in the driver's seat. He rubs at his temples with his eyes closed while you rifle through your purse for a sandwich baggie of emergency migraine medicine. “Here,” you say, handing him the pill, “Before it starts to get bad.” “Hmm,” he grumbles in agreement, popping it in his dry mouth to suck it down.  “We’ll be home soon, okay?” you say, hand coming down on his thigh reassuringly, “Just close your eyes for now.” 

He takes the tupperwares when you get out of the car, fishing his keys out of his back pocket while he does. His strides are long while you hurry up behind him, following him into the house only to bump into his back while he’s stopped by the thermostat to turn on the air. “Sorry,” you say softly. “S’okay,” he replies back, barely above a whisper. He puts the food in the fridge while you head upstairs to start a shower, a ritual you’ve both come to learn well after days or nights like these. You take out the good soap, the shower oil, all the aroma therapy you can to get him to ease up. Anyone else watching you get things ready would assume it was about to be a very sexy time for you. On the same coin, these showers are probably the most intimate moments you have with each other. He comes in as the room starts to steam and you help him ease off his polo, you start on the buttons of your dress while he takes off his jeans and socks. He helps with your bra, both of you shedding your underwear at the same time before you step in. Steve soothes almost instantly, his muscles relaxing under the hot stream, sighing further while he gets soaped up. You don’t have to be in there with him, but you do. He needs you so close so he doesn’t float away. His favorite part comes near the end, sitting in the flow of the shower together while you wash his hair. His eyes flutter closed while your nails scratch and massage him – he swears his hair is even thicker than it was before with all the blood flow you encourage. You wash his hair twice, then deep condition, holding him to your chest while you wait the five minutes it takes to settle in. He leaves soft kisses on your collar bone, on all the marks he left on you in Nance and Eddie's kitchen. He holds your hand, so you can’t float away. You both end up on the couch afterward, the leather groaning beneath you both while you lay across the deep seat cushions, you lay on your back, he lays on his side against you. The heat of his bare chest warms you through your oversized sleep shirt. His soft sweat pants tangle up with your bare legs. You let whatever’s on TV play – reruns you guess, you’re thinking about too many other things. “How’s your head, baby?” you ask while his eyes shut, leaning on your shoulder. “S’fine, better,” he says, he lifts your hand and kisses your fingers before placing both his and your hand on your chest over your heart. The ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum lulling him to sleep. You half watch TV for however long until your own eyelids get heavy. You click off the TV and opt to turn the stereo on low, just so he doesn’t get lost while he sleeps.

You wake up to oldies, music your parents would listen to on records in the living room growing up – songs that came out a few years before you were born. Oldies. It's dark outside but you can still hear the rain. Steve’s already awake, just watching you while his hand smooths back and forth over your sternum. “You snored,” he says. “Good,” you reply quietly. You both snort out breathy laughs, feeling the warmth of his lips as they smoosh against your cheek. “How you feeling?” he asks, hand coming up to rest on your cheek, sliding down the side of your neck. “A little banged up,” you say, “Might bruise.” “M’sorry,” he says again, a tinge of guilty pink tinging his ears. “It’s okay,” you repeat for what feels like the thousandth time in the past six hours. “You looked really pretty today,” Steve says gently, almost sheepish, “I should’ve told you.” “You looked really handsome,” you say back, “But you were kind of being an asshole so I didn’t want to tell you.” “You should’ve told me, it probably would’ve cured my PTSD,” he says seriously but sarcastically, “Could’ve saved the entire afternoon if you just said how good I looked. Prob’ly wouldn’t have had an episode.” “You’re such an ass,” you laugh, smiling. He leans in to kiss you and it’s the kind that makes you too weak to stand. That kiss got him a second date, it proved that they said about old King Steve in highschool. On the stereo, Sherry Baby bleeds into Unchained Melody.

His hand reaches up under your neck to tilt you up toward him, tasting your tongue with his, guiding you with his kiss, “Angel…” he murmurs. He breathes through his nose while he keeps his lips pressed to yours, desperate to stay here in this moment, attached to you. “Steve,” you say softly, breaking away, “Stevie…” “Please,” he whispers, nuzzling your nose slowly, “Please.” “Lemme take care of you.” “I…” your thoughts trail off while he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling gently at the spot just by the hinge of your jaw. He waits for your soft sigh, the tilt of your hips towards him – your allowance. He grins when he hears the air pass your lips, the realignment of your spine beneath him while he settles between your squishy thighs. His hands travel south, pushing up the hem of your big t-shirt to your waist, holding you there for a moment while his kiss takes over your mouth again. He tugs your cotton panties down, breaking the kiss while he sits up on the couch to slide them off your ankles. Steve looks down at you with an expression that makes your breath catch in your chest, serious – with supple lips, needy eyes. He leads himself back down again, big hands sliding down the sides of your thighs over your hips to your waist again. Instinctively, your legs spring up to wrap around him while his hips align with yours, feeling his strained cock in his sweats against you. “Jesus…” he whispers again, eyes fluttering closed. He buries his face in your neck while you rock slowly against him, the pressure and friction against the underside of his erection sending low volts through his body. “Mm-mm,” he grunts, shaking his head ‘no’ while mumbling, “It’s supposed to be about you.” “Well stop dangling it in front of me then,” you giggle quietly, he giggles too. The smile sends you reeling, his pretty teeth, the way his nose scrunches. He leans forward again to kiss, he just can’t stop kissing, can’t stop tasting your lips, feeling you against him. Steve’s hand reaches down to pull himself out of his sweats, pushing the waistband to the tops of his thighs while he uses the other to push one thigh out off the couch. “You ready f’me?” he asks huskily, tip dragging slowly from the pool of slick at your opening up in between your folds. He lets his thumb run in slow circles over your clit while he waits for your answer, your slow nod while you lean your head back on the arm rest gives him the okay. He eases himself in slow, the tip pushing past your opening with some resistance. “Open up a lil’, honey,” he mumbles quietly while he guides the tip in again, “Open up for me.”

Your little gasps float out of you and into the fuzzy part of his brain, gliding down his spine. You angle your hips upward, one thigh up against the couch cushions and the other dangling over the edge, spread as wide as you can. He holds himself above you with one arm, the other aiding in pushing himself further in, the tip finally breaching your core. He keeps guiding, slow back and forths while you ease open for him – taking him in, inch by inch. “Oh yes, mhm,” he groans to himself softly, “Thass–hmm-that’s it, angel.” He let’s go when he’s three fourths in, crowding over you, forearms on each side of your head while he strokes slowly to start – getting you used to him, accommodating his size. “That’s good?” he breathes. “Ye-yeah,” you breathe back to him. His mouth latches to yours again, feeling him guide your hands up beside your head, lacing fingers while he presses you deeper into the couch cushions. He keeps his strokes slow and deliberate, feeling every ridge of you inside, how you suck him in and hug him tight in place – but how he feels isn’t nearly as important. It’s the way your brows contort, the way you bite your lip, your whines into his mouth while he kisses you. Each slow thrust makes you coat him in a new flow of slickness. “C’mere,” he says into your jawline, letting go of one hand to sneak behind you at the waist, pulling you flush to him. The new angle makes you let out a whine while he hits a spot deep inside you, he grunts at the reaction, the feeling of you taking him in. His pace picks up the smallest tick, face centimeters from yours – your noses brush, lips barely touching while his amber eyes keep steady on yours. You let out short huffs, little whimpers every time the head of his cock pushes deeper with every roll of your hips. “S’nice, hm?” he asks, brows slanting, softening. “Mhm,” you squeak back, “S-so good, honey.” Your legs pull in again, socked heels resting on the top of his butt while he sighs at the change in pressure. “Thassperfect, god,” he hisses out, head dropping down to your chest, pressing sloppy kisses above your breasts while he gathers himself. He groans into your neck while wet warmth tightens over him, soft velvet walls coaxing him closer and closer to the edge. 

Steve’s shoulders flex while he balances on his forearms above you again, your forgotten hand taken by his, fingers interlocked. His face inches from yours while he looks at you, the way your eyes flutter, the soft parting of your lips, the high pitched  ‘Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn,’s coming out of them — you’re so beautiful.

“So pretty,” he says to you, huffing a breath into a smile, “So pretty, baby.” 

You kiss him a thank you. You see him swallow when he breaks away, his eyes getting glassy. 

“S’gonna be okay,” he assures, nodding down at you, nose to nose, “We’re gonna be okay.” Slow thrusts  between statements. 

“Gonna get married,” he says, a groan flowing right down into your mouth while he kisses you, “Gonna be just like Ed and Nance, right?” 

You nod while his thrusts get more passionate, deeper.

“Yeah? That’s nice?” he asks, “Marry you? Take you just like this after the wedding?” 

“Yeah,” you gasp back, “Yes, Stevie.” 

“Give you a baby?” he asks in a low whisper into your skin, lips pressing against your cheek, his strong nose dragging against your cheek bone, “Give you so many babies. You want that?” 

“I want that,” you nod, face pinching while you feel yourself building up and up in a slow churn. 

“You want that?” he asks again, coming back to hover over you — tears in his eyes, “You want that with me?” 

You nod to each other while he embraces you in an old movie kiss, wrapping himself around you, pressing him to his chest while his thrusts get purposeful, controlled. 

“I love you,” he pants into your ear, “I’m yours, m’all yours.”

“I love you, too,” you rasp back, free’d fingers interlocking in his hair. He gets leverage on his knees, the leather of the couch squeaking under him while he repositions. Soft smacks of skin between you echo in the living room against the backdrop of the low stereo.   “Oh my god, Steve,” you moan out, “You’re – oh god you’re so deep.” “So deep, angel, Christ–” he huffs, trying to make a mental note of this position so he can remember it for October – really make it stick. His thought process stifled when your nails drag down his back, making his passionate thrusts quicken – a signature cocky smirk flick across his lips. “Mmm, that feels good honey?” he asks – he knows the answer. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, tears glazing over your eyes while he feels you pulse over him. Thank god the couch was leather. Watching you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm he works you toward the second with ease, chasing his pleasure with each soaking thrust into you – so nice like this, so pliant – his little ragdoll. When he cums it’s deliberate, spilling inside you with your eyes on each other. You give one another breathless kisses, bodies interlocked, sticking to the couch in new found exhaustion. The phone rings. Neither of you get up to answer it. ‘BEEP. You’ve reached the Harrington residence – Did you forget my last name isn’t Harr– If you’re calling before October 1997 then it’s not just the Harrington residence yet but – whatever you know what I mean. Leave a message, we might call ya back.’

“Hey Harrington it’s Munson, um, just making sure you’re okay, man. Sorry I disappeared for a little bit there. Love you, call me back when you can. Bye.” 

thanks for reading. <3

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic

[desertfangs]

Through the Garden Gate [AO3] Lestat/Daniel - Explicit - 4,459

Not long after Tale of the Body Thief, Lestat and Daniel talk about Lestat's body swap and how Daniel worries his relationship with Armand is falling apart.

I wrote this in kind of a flash of inspiration but I figured I might as well post it now, since I'll be posting a lot of stuff in February for fandom events and don't know when I'll get around to it otherwise.

I really just love Lestat and Daniel having deep conversations and I think Daniel tends to ask the best questions. They are my BROTP with benefits and I know some of y'all love them as much as I do, so I hope you like this!

Brief excerpt:

“Is it true that you swapped bodies with a mortal?” Daniel had been burning to ask about it since Lestat first jumped him in Pirate Alley, and the question tumbled out almost immediately after they sat at the small bar table. 

A storm of emotion passed over Lestat’s face. “I did.” 

Daniel leaned closer, across the small bar table between them. “What was it like?” 

“What do you think? Incredible. Messy. Uncomfortable. Amazing.” Lestat shook his head. “Impossibly strange. But it had been hundreds of years since I’d known mortal urges, mortal discomfort.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Daniel laughed slightly. Mortal discomfort—aches and pains and hangovers and head colds—had been the bane of his existence during his last mortal years. He’d been in his early thirties and yet already his body had changed so much. Sleeping at the wrong angle could ruin him for days. 

“Not entirely. There were good things.” Lestat smiled, but it didn’t reach his blue gray eyes, which were trained on his martini glass full of blue curaçao and vodka. “The taste of wine. The sun.” 

Daniel reached across the table and touched Lestat’s hand, which was a rich, tan color, like the rest of his skin. “And how did this happen?” 

Lestat sighed. “I had a moment of weakness and went into the Gobi desert. It’s not important now.” 

Daniel snorted. “Yeah, clearly. Are you okay?” 

Lestat waved a hand and then his magnificent, winning smile returned. “How did you hear about my last misadventure anyway? I’m still working on the book.” 

Daniel sat back against the booth and tapped his fingers on the table, keenly aware of the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. “Louis wrote a very concerned letter about the whole affair.” 

Lestat frowned. “To you?” 

Daniel flushed. “To Armand. Sent to Night Island. I stopped by to check on the house and I opened the mail.” He hadn’t thought much of it at the time—he and Armand often treated each other’s things as if they were their own, which was perhaps a bad habit, but it had always worked for them. Once he’d read it, he’d felt a bit like he’d overstepped, and he’d tucked the letter away to give to Armand next time he saw him.

“And where is that impish maker of yours, hm?” Lestat asked. “Where are you two living these days?” 

“Barcelona, for now,” Daniel said. “Assuming he’s still there when I get back.” 

Lestat smirked. “Trouble in paradise?” 

“You could say that.” Daniel thought of Armand’s hardened expression, his cold kiss against Daniel’s cheek as he’d left. The icy atmosphere of the flat they shared. Daniel fiddled with the plastic sword that held an olive and onion in his cocktail, stirring it around the drink. “He’s gotten so damn volatile. The smallest thing sets off these terrible fights. Or worse, he gets quiet and sullen and avoids me. To be honest, I prefer the fighting.” 

Armand had barely said a word when he’d left. Daniel had been pushed past all reason and needed a break, so he’d offered to go check on The Night Island, an errand they did from time to time as they traveled around in hopes that some new location might fix all their problems. 

In truth, he’d hoped Armand would come with him. Maybe being home again for a few days would rekindle something, give them some perspective. But Armand had simply wished him bon voyage, without so much as a suggestion he didn’t want him to go, and now Daniel was procrastinating going back.

“He and Louis could teach a masterclass in administering the silent treatment,” Lestat said morosely. He stabbed the cherry in his drink with his own plastic sword, a little green one, and then let it drop, blue liquid splashing out of the glass.

Read the Rest on AO3

#lestat de lioncourt #daniel molloy #lestat/daniel #armand/daniel #armand #tale of the body thief #post-totbt #vc fanfic #vc fic #tvc #vc #vampire chronicles #the vampire chronicles #my favorite brotp with benes #it's been a minute since i wrote anything i liked with them and then this just kind of poured out #idk it happens like that sometimes

[falleri-salvatore]

My ship headcanons and how I view them

Anyone who sees my feed knows that I reblog a lot of jaune shipposts. That said, not every one of them are ones I actually see working out romantically and I mostly do it because the prompts/drabbles made me laugh or were well-written more than anything..... .....in short, just because I don't ship something doesn't mean I can't appreciate good work when I see it. That said, here's how I actually view the relationship between the main characters. Lancaster: Split between BroTP and/or OTP; Jaune and Ruby are, simply put, two sides of the same coin and their interactions pretty much cement that fact. Currently waiting for Volume 10 to see how their bond further develops and how their underlying tension resolves. If I judge BroTP, then I go with Rosegarden, since my Gold Medal OTP for Ruby is currently impossible (Why? Why did they have to take Penny? T_T) Dragonslayer: BroTP, Full Stop. People often overlook the fact that, as we see more of and learn more about Jaune and Yang, the more we realize these two dorks are both birds of a feather. Their chemistry is immense and undeniable, and while Yang would admit that Jaune has gotten hot; and Jaune would admit that Yang is gorgeous, there is no romantic tension between them. For Yang, she already knows Jaune as the dorky yet very kindhearted male bestie of her little sister. In Jaune's part, Yang reminds him of Saphron far too much for him to think of her as anything but a friend and sister. Knightshade: BroTP, as well. These two's friendship is much more subdued but no less strong; they often bond over their shared hobbies, such as a love for books and they often get together to read while maintaining a comfortable silence between them. Would not be surprised if these two ended up founding a Book Club. Whiteknight: Silver Medal OTP. Volume 5 and onwards has convinced me of the viability of this pairing, due the subtle yet telling looks and touches shared by them in the background. Arkos: ARKOS MY BELOVED!!!! THE OTP for me. Just, everything about this. Nora's Arc: BroTP. Nora is firmly Rensexual. To Nora, Jaune is her Fearless Leader and the best Big Brother she could have ever asked for. To Jaune, Nora is the hyperactive and boisterous little sister who can be quite a headache yet he can't help but want to do anything for in order for her not to lose her smile.

Martial Arcs: BroTP. Ren is Norasexual, and Jaune is shown to be firmly heterosexual. They consider each other brothers from different mothers.

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #rwby shitpost #pyrrha nikos #yang xiao long #ruby rose #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #lie ren #rwby shippost #rwby headcanon

[backgroundcharacterno15]

Juuzou for character ask? :)

yayyyyyyy my fav albino :>

favorite thing about them: I like how his growth as a person didn't feel unnatural or sudden as you'd imagine it being. By the time of re:, he's clearly grown a lot and is a very stable team leader. This doesn't mean he perfectly fits into the corporate hellscape that is the CCG though. I love how he kept his childlike and energetic nature without sacrificing proper growth and development.

least favorite thing about them: Big Madame doing what she did...... when I catch you.......

favorite line: "It could've been a gay ghoul" absolute classic king shit

brOTP: probably his squad or Shinohara honestly

OTP: suzuhan and suzumutsu have been at war in my mind for quite a while now. The scales are tipping towards suzuhan tho

nOTP: I've seen him and Kaneki before. Yeah definitely not for me really....

random headcanon: he's one of those people who physically can't stand wearing socks no matter the circumstance. He'd rather get a million diseases before he lets those things touch his feet

unpopular opinion: again, I really don't have one. Maybe in like 10 minutes I'll find out something I thought was actually really controversial. Who knows.

song I associate with them: man I'm always so bad with these. I've genuinely been thinking for a while now and I have nothing. If something comes to me later I'll say it but for now I have nothing.

favorite picture of them:

I've said it literally in this post already but man is this iconic

tysm fir the ask!!!! Sorry this took me so long. I had a couple things come up. Feel free to send more and have a nice day ^_^

#tokyo ghoul #juuzou suzuya #Fern's dumb hcs

[kyouka-supremacy]

Dazai?

Eheh Dazai

Favorite thing about them: I really like how as a character he was able to deeply touch so many people!! Seeing so many people finding relief in being able to relate to and emphasize with the character makes me happy.

Least favorite thing about them: I mean, his personality? I don't like how his many flaws are written to be interpreted as strong points / good traits for his character to the point no flaw is actually a flaw, it makes the reading experience very frustrating for me.

Favorite line:

brOTP: Mmmmhh, I don't spend a lot of time thinking about Dazai. Soukoku, probably. The Buraiha trio makes me emotional a little. Souheki, but in a very passive-aggressive, over-competitive, one-sided rivality, can't-stand-each-other way. Dazai and Kyouka. Dazai and Atsushi too I suppose, though I prefer them romantically. I think he makes for a lot of interesting dynamics with virtually all the characters, but none compells me in particular tbh.

OTP: Odazai is plain canon to me, idk what to tell you. I think they make for a beautiful, tragic love story. Get you a man who is willing to change the path of his whole life for another man just like that, nobody does it like them (actually, wait, I can think of another man... ). Although I always distantly liked them, dazatsu has grown on me like, an INSANE amount in the last few months. I'm not sure what happened. I think it was an unfortunate (lol) coincidence of growing a little fonder of Dazai and just wanting to give more space and agenda to Atsushi. Like to me a lot of what dazatsu is really is about giving Atsushi more agency and autonomy and independence and overall just respecting him as a complex, full fleshed out character. I don't see ANY kind of power imbalance in it I keep finding people talk about. Dazai pushes Atsushi to be better every day, and Atsushi does exactly the same for Dazai. Atsushi admires and respects Dazai, and Dazai admires and respects Atsushi equally. I really don't know why the ship isn't more popular and instead just gets discarded most of the time tbh. I feel like everyone should sit down a second and actually give Atsushi the dignity to choose for himself. And fyozai!!! The investment in this ship mostly goes on waves for me but despite that I firmly believe that they really make for an engaging and interesting dynamic to be interpreted romantically. The epitome of “You're both just enabling each other's mental illnesses. You're both perfect for each other. Never change. Just never involve anybody else in what you've got going on.”

nOTP: Nothing comes to my mind.

Random headcanon: Not canon related, but in modern aus I feel like he'd be one to always end up working at ceo roles and he would HATE it. He fires himself and starts working at some cheap frozen yogurt place and one month later he'll find himself as the ceo of the most important oil company of the country AGAIN without him even realizing it / despite his active efforts to avoid that. And he HATES IT. He fires himself again but the loop only repeats forever. He's just that kind of person for whom all doors open automatically.

Unpopular opinion: ............ I could be here forever. I regretfully fail to relate to a lot of characterization / readings of the character I've seen the fandom give him. I really don't want to dwell on this so I'll just mention something mostly unrelated to his characterization: I wholly can't share the take of him being physically built like??? At all??? Which got REALLY popular a few months ago. Dude feels like he never lifted a finger his whole life, I really don't know where the idea comes from???? And I personally don't take his manga visual portrayal as a telling factor for this; pretty much all the characters have the same body type, it's impossible for me to base the buff Dazai assumption on how he's drawn in the manga. Just one thing about his chracter though stop making him matchmaker for ss/kk he really isn't stop don't do it please

Song i associate with them: HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE associating him with my favourite vocaloid song ever but. Meltdown by iroha is a very Dazai song. So many other songs though... Parade of Liars by ryo. Abstract Nonsense by Neru. God-ish by Pinocchio-P. So on and so forth.

Favorite picture of them:

Favourite panel from the manga:

Favourite illustration:

Favourite illustration in the anime art style:

Favourite Mayoi card:

Send me a character?

#Thank you for asking!! <33 #osamu dazai #bsd #mine #people asks me stuff #I hate how for all the other characters so far I had to go over all their panels/lines while with Dazai I already knew exactly what to pick

[waytooinvested]

Fandom creators tag game

1. What sort of content do you create, and what is the thing you’ve made that you’re most proud of? Mostly I write fanfiction. Sometimes I make little needle felted character dolls. Over all proudest is probably still The Hands I Used to Touch (Call the Midwife), but for my current fandom (Supergirl) it's Forgotten, Not Forgiven, as that is my latest big project and home to all the fluffy supercorp that I need in my life (okay not in the published chapters but IT WILL BE EVENTUALLY I PROMISE)

2. What fandom(s) do you create for? Right now just Supergirl, and I have only written three fics for that one so far (but hopefully more to come!) Before that it was Call the Midwife.

3. What is your current favourite ship (or brotp if you prefer), and how controversial is it? Supercorp, ie Kara/Lena for Supergirl (I know, I’m so quiet about it on this blog you would never have guessed). It occupies an interesting space of being simultaneously entirely non controversial in that it is by far the biggest ship I have ever engaged with, while also being extremely divisive, both within and beyond fandom spaces. But I arrived here LONG after most of that had happened, and am now just happily playing in the sandpit of creative space while the bones of drama stay *mostly* buried. Always a bit of a shock when one rises up to try and kick down your sandcastle though (yes, I am aware that that is a mildly horrifying visual)

4. For your answer to question 3, are they canon? They are not (TECHNICALLY), but there is enough raw material in canon to build The São João Baptista, and that is enough for me. That and the 21,302 (and counting) fics with their relationship tag on AO3.

5. What was your first fandom, and how old were you? The first I actually engaged with other fans over was Call The Midwife in my early 20s, and that was because I snapped after seeing one too many tv lesbians get hit by a car.

6. What is your most unhinged fandom creation to date? Unhinged is not really my brand so I don't really have anything good for this one. Is Kara gets accidentally miniaturized unhinged? Or a bait and switch Lena "villain" arc? I think probably not really to either, but that's the closest I've got for this fandom so far...

7. Do you remember what started you off creating fandom content, and if so, what was it? The aforementioned incident between Delia and a car, which left her with amnesia and taken away to Wales mere moments after she and Patsy had moved in together. But I’m over it. Honest.

8. Do you let people you know in real life see your fandom creations? Not usually, I get shy about it. The exceptions are my wife (but we met via fandom so that one maybe doesn’t count) and on occasion my best friend, who talked me round by being an enthusiastic sweetheart.

9. How do you feel about fanworks of fanworks? Has anyone ever made something based on a thing you made? A few people have made fan art for my fics and it felt like the absolute highest compliment that could be paid to my writing. It was amazing to know that something I wrote meant enough to people to inspire them to go and create their own thing from it, and I loved getting to see other people’s takes on the version of the characters/story I had created. I think it's one of the best things about fandom communities! But I do understand why other people might feel differently about something they have poured so much of themselves into making, so I guess the main thing is trying to be respectful with it, crediting the source, and accepting people's boundaries. Basically I think we should all just be kind to each other and have fun.

10. What feeling do you most often try to evoke with your creations? I'm generally seeking my own catharsis through writing fix-it fic for painful things that happened in canon, so I guess a certain amount of pain followed by the eventual fluffy feel good satisfaction of resolution, but honestly I consider it a win if I can evoke a whole spectrum of emotions along the way.

11. Has someone ever paid your work a compliment (in any form) that has stuck with you, and what was it? Someone once liked my fic so much that she married me about it, so it’s hard to beat that haha. But on a more usual level, people making fanart for my fic was a HUGE one. And also just when people have left particularly in depth comments, commented on every chapter, told me they're rereading or that a fic of mine was their favourite etc... Basically just knowing that something I made has really meant something to someone gives me all of the warm fuzzy feelings, and I am very grateful to each and every person who has taken the time to tell me so!

12. What’s your favourite thing someone else has made that you’ve seen in the last 24 hours (and link it if you can find it again!) Originally I had the bouquet toss ficlet by @fazedlight here, because it just captures the characters so beautifully, but then I left this sitting in my drafts and it is now more than 24 hours ago that I saw it, so I'll add this adorable art by @awaitingrain, because LOOK AT IT! They are so cute??! Also I relate to gentle nomming as a display of affection XD

13. Give a small sneak preview of something you’re working on right now (eg a couple of sentences of fic from a WIP, a gif set theme, a small piece of a larger picture, whatever you feel happy to share) "Lena Luthor was dangling from the side of a cliff, nothing between her and the vast chasm of space below but the small jutting nodule she was clinging to to keep from falling.

How the hell had she ended up here?

Well. She knew how of course.

Kara Danvers was how."

14. Have you ever seen/read anything made by the person who tagged you? If so, what was it and what was your favourite thing about it? (pick a favourite if there are several) SO MANY!! it’s hard to pick a favourite of hers honestly because she is a RIDICULOUSLY good writer, but I’m going to go with The Next Best Thing by @cynicalrainbows. I don’t tend to read many kidfics but this one is the absolute best I have come across, she captures the child perspective fantastically well while also being incredibly engaging and entertaining to an adult reader. It is what successfully pulled me into reading Six fanfic despite (at that point) never having seen the musical. Even if you haven’t either, I wholeheartedly recommend checking it out. Or go and read her new Paperdolls fic and help grow that fandom, which I think currently has all of two people in it!

15. Do you leave comments on fandom works, and if so how would you describe your comment style? I do! I know how much I love it when people do it for me, so I try to leave comments on every chapter of the fics I read (or add tag notes for tumblr art/fic reblogs), and give specifics about what I like about it. Sometimes I just fully liveblog the fic reading experience, which is always fun. I also find it makes you engage and appreciate the work more because you’re taking your time to really think about it, AND it makes an author happy to receive (at least so I hope), which makes me happy.

16. How many works in progress do you currently have? Will you finish them all? Not counting a couple of dump documents of ideas and snippets, technically 3, I guess? One is Forgotten, Not Forgiven (Supergirl) which is my big one and will definitely be finished. The others are less certain – Storybooks and Siren Suits (Call The Midwife) is the one kidfic I have ever written, and is both my longest story at 151,020 (published) words, and also the one I am least likely to finish, because it has been stuck on the same chapter for around 3 years now. The other is Small Problem… (Supergirl) which could be counted as a finished oneshot, but I will probably end up adding further Adventures of Tiny Kara at some point.

17. what’s the longest it’s ever taken you to finish a fandom project?Well, see above re: 3 year stall on new updates. For actually fully finished and published stories I think it was around 6 months.

18. Describe the thing you made most recently in a way that is technically true, but also completely misleading. Link the thing if it’s published! Lena discovers Kara in Lex’s bed, then decides to lure her into friendship under false pretenses. Alex helps her do it. Forgotten, Not Forgiven.

19. Do you ever engage with fanworks for a fandom you’re not in? Which one(s) and how did you get into it? See above re: getting into fanfiction for Six!

20. Recommend a fan work from your fandom to your followers That’s tough because there are so many amazing ones, but I think I will go with I Guess I Live Here Now by @fabulousglitch, because it was both the first fic I really got into for supercorp and also contained everything I wish the characters could have had in canon. I know I am several years late to the party so if you are in the supercorp fandom you have probably already read it, but if you haven’t read it GO READ IT, IT’S SO GOOD!

Suggested tag list, but there are no rules here, follow your heart.

A mutual you have never actually spoken to but think seems cool @nottawriter

The most recent person whose content you engaged with (eg read a fic, reblogged art, whatever form you feel best fits) @sideguitars (and I still owe you a comment on AO3 for that!)

Someone whose content you saw via tags/reblogs and you followed them because of it @sssammich

Someone in your fandom that you think makes cool things @fazedlight

Someone in a different fandom that you think makes cool things @havaamina

Someone you always tag on things like this @cynicalrainbows

Someone you have never tagged before @thatonebirdwrites

Someone you would like to get to know better @thecasualqueer

Someone who makes art you like @pea-green (I don't know if you still do fandom drawing/writing these days, but your commissioned art is still up in my house/in my profile picture and I love it so much)

Someone who writes fics you like @fabulousglitch

#tag game #fanfic writing #fandom creators #I have only been here a couple of months so the number of people I could actually claim to *know* on any level in this fandom is tiny #So if I have tagged you and you have no interest in being tagged in things by random unfamiliar internet strangers #please accept this as the compliment it is intended as and feel free to ignore it! #If you ARE interested in being tagged in things by random internet strangers and decide to play the game #please tag me so I can see your answers! #And if I didn't tag you but you would like to play anyway please feel free to name me as your tagger if you want to :)

[couragehopelovefaith]

I saw someone saying that Stefan couldn't ever be himself with Elena, because he was so serious with her, too busy protecting her and constantly trying to get her to do the right thing. It was also brought up that Elena could only be herself with Damon, because Damon is more fun and she got familiar with her dark side with him. And I couldn't help but laugh.

Stefan could be very protective at times, yes, but when it got too far for Elena's liking, she called him out on it and he learned from it. They worked as a team, made mistakes, were there for each other during their dark times and grew together and Elena did her best to keep him safe as well. They had a similar sense of humor and multiple playful moments, when they both were visibly enjoying their time together in the middle of all the supernatural craziness. This didn't change after she turned into a vampire, either. Stefan didn't want to fix her for himself, because he didn't like her as a vampire. He tried to find the cure, because Elena herself had repeatedly said that she didn't want to become vampire and didn't think she could survive as one. That's why Elena's "broken toy"-comment in 4x10 sounds confusingly sudden and absolutely ridiculous.

I love Caroline and Stefan as a powerful BROTP, but when they got together as a couple, it all seemed really one-sided and they never appeared to be as comfortable with each other than they were with their earlier partners and other close people in their lives. They simply weren't very compatible, in my opinion.

I'm not gonna go too far on the D*lena-road or touch the whole sirebond-subject, because it's not good for my blood pressure, but Damon "being fun" and "presenting Elena to her dark side and getting her to accept it" repeatedly put her at an unhealthy pedestal in his eyes and many people around her in serious danger - and was a big part of why Elena ended up turning into something almost unrecognizable. I saw absolutely nothing in canon, that would've backed up her "In death you're the one that made me feel most alive"-statement to Damon. And to be honest, I think that if Katherine would've wanted to be with him, Damon wouldn't have looked at Elena twice.

Sorry if this got too salty. Just wanna remind you, that I don't see Stefan as a perfect angel or Damon as a complete devil. They both have their own flaws and mistakes and also their good moments. But I can't help feeling very frustrated about the most endgames in the TVD/Originals-universe.

#the vampire diaries #stelena #anti delena #anti steroline #TVD

[iam93percentstardust]

bucky barnes for the ask game 💗✨

Bucky Barnes, my beloved <3

Favorite thing about them The sexie, sexie murder strut. We love to see it.

Least favorite thing about them My least favorite thing about him is something that would get me booted from the fandom, so I'm gonna say Marvel's insistence at prioritizing him at Sam's expense. I love my boy Sam. He deserves better.

Favorite line "Who the hell is Bucky?" Bestie when I tell you I about screamed in the theater. I miss the old days of the MCU when there weren't fifty million articles after each movie analyzing every single easter egg in the film. I had no idea Bucky was coming back in CATWS and I was delighted.

brOTP Steve & Bucky. They remind me of my high school best friend and I.

OTP Winterironfalcon. I couldn't decide between winteriron and winterfalcon, and winterironfalcon is the best of both worlds, so there's my OTP for him <3

nOTP Stucky... they remind me of my high school best friend and I

Random headcanon In post-CACW Avengers tower verse, after his recovery, Bucky decides to get a job as a mechanic. Tony is deeply baffled by this and tries reminding him that he doesn't need a job, he's being sponsored by a billionaire, and that there are plenty of cars for him to putter around with in the tower's garage. Bucky doesn't care; he gleefully goes off to work each day.

Unpopular opinion Automatic rank progression doesn't work like that in the American military system and I'm tired of seeing cold takes of Rhodey should be saluting and deferring to Bucky.

Song i associate with them When Your Feet Don't Touch The Ground by Ellie Goulding

Favorite picture of them Walk walk fashion baby...

#alle answers

[lovestryke]

my friend megatron for the ask meme? :^3...

Favorite thing about them. HIS GIGGLE IT CAN BE SOOOO GOOFY I JUST AAAAUU ITS ALWAYS A LAUGH FOR ME AS WELL. ehaaheouhuhuheh 2. Least favorite thing about them monochrome color scheme 3. Favorite line I WAS GONNA MENTION THIS IN THE LAST ONE I GUESS I HAVE A FEW FAV LINES FROM HIM AHUHA. i was gonna talk about his stupid full of tears line "DecepTiCons, reTreaaaAAt." The one where he also chuckles to himself and says "Heh. And they call themselves Decepticons." Like I saw that as him feeling endeared to his guys's dorkiness. ok i also really like when he says "RAW MADERIAL" and pronounces Skyfire's name like it's "Skyfighter". I stg he adds a T in there. AND THE ULTIMATE, "MY EQUILIBRIUM. DESTABILIZED. GROAUUUUUUUU" FUCKING 10/10 3. brOTP Hm. I like his interactions with his other Decepts alot but I wouldn't call anything a brOTP...I guess I would say MegOp because they're very fun together when theyre collabing!!! 4. OTP ^ also megop 5. nOTP Megastar. Its not even fun. I usually very much dislike when their relationship becomes actually abusive like in Tfp and onwards, I think we should stick with their goofy I HATE MY EMPLOYEE/BASTARD SON and I HATE MY BOSS relationship you know. Even when it's goofy like that, I STILL refuse to pair them romantically. They just hate each other and thats it 6. Random Headcanon hrmmm he babies ALL the cassettes. Rumble and Frenzy are selling Starscreams things on Ebay and hes like i dont see it... 7. Unpopular Opinion I'm not...sure this is an unpopular opinion but i would suppose its unpopular to canon media. I do not like when he's disrespectful of his employees. Like, that was my biggest problem with Redwall too, you are NOT going to have a stable army if they're just. afraid of you?? I think all the Decepticons respect him in their own ways (Save for Starscream) . And I think he cares about them in his own way as well, you cannot just see your army as just numbers and expect them to stay loyal. 8. Song I associate with them Don't have too many but Touch by Daft Punk is One. 9. Favorite picture of them

Starscream: "Unfortunately, the operation was successful." Meg:

#I WOULD HAVE CHOSEN THE BABY HEADED MEGATGRON THAT SHIT MADE ME LAUGH SO FUCKING HARD BUT I CANT FIND IT #megatron #asks #transformers g1 #ty lori i love you forever u are the ONLY one out of my followers who sent smth -_-

[jamesunderwater]

CHARLES

james potter for the character list thingy 🫶🏼 love you

@deermessrs CELIA, you sent me this ask SIX MONTHS AGO, but I never forgot it and wanted to go back and finish the answer I'd half-written back then... if you still care to read it, here it is!! 😅

Favorite Thing About Them: I just love this boy who (albeit imperfectly) used his privilege for good - to give to others the love he was so freely given, to defend those more vulnerable than him, to actually risk his life to fight for the people he loved. And yes he saw the world in black and white, yes he had a savior complex, yes he was full of himself. But he's just. He's the kid in elementary school who makes handmade valentine's for the whole class, who is SO friendly to and defensive of the nerdy kid that he doesn’t realize he's actually embarrassing them. He is literally reckless with his own heart. And I just wanna hug him about it.

Least Favorite Thing About Them: Not to be a total simp, but I don't know that there's anything I don't like about him...

Favorite Line: In DH, when Harry asks, "will you stay with me?" And he says, "Until the very end." (I may or may not have the words tattooed on my body.)

BROTP: Sirius Black, his canonical soulmate, imo. The two of them are the definition of "you complete me" and "I found my other half." They love each other so much I think that even when it isn't romantic it is still bigger than any romantic love either of them have. It's obviously close to how deeply James loves Lily, but I think there is a tether between James and Sirius that neither of them have with anyone else.

OTP: Lily Evans, if that wasn't obvious xD They're just…I've shipped them since I was 12, before I knew what shipping was, yknow? They created my bby boy. Even though I ship both of them with other people in different contexts, I never see them ending up with anyone but each other.

NOTP: Snape. Who I only ship with a lifetime of cleaning out toilets.

Random Headcanon: He grew up with Marlene McKinnon. It was her brothers who taught him how to fly. They were each other's first kiss when they were like, 6, even though they never really liked each other that way. It was one of those things where you know each other as children but somehow it doesn't translate when you get older and find other friends - until they were in like 6th year and the war started feeling really real and it brought everyone closer. When he found out she and her whole family were killed, he went to a very dark place.

Unpopular Opinion: Er… I don't know if I have an unpopular opinion on him? It also depends on the part of fandom I'm talking to, lmao. The one thing I can think of is one I know some people share: that James wasn't that bent about The Prank. I think he was frustrated, but I don't think it put a rift between him and Sirius in any way.

Song I Associate With Them: Oh, 100% forever and always A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me by Fall Out Boy!!! "Cause you're just the girl all the boys wanna dance with, and I'm just the boy whose had too many chances… I'm sleeping on your folks' porch again dreaming, "she said, she said, she said, why don't you just drop dead?" // I don't blame you for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it. So say, "what are you waiting for? kiss her, kiss her." I set my clocks early 'cause I know I'm always late." LIKE, PLS.

favorite picture of them: I went through all the fanart I've reblogged and I think I'd have to say this one by @daiziesssart:

#james potter #hp #the marauders #celia tag #the post is here #me

[performativezippers]

For the ship asks!

what kind of dates do you think Sanvers would go on? (In the canon show, not an AU)

do you prefer Supercorp as an otp, brotp, or notp?

and, because you're relatively new to the ship:

explain why do/don’t ship Bering and Wells

Love these questions!

Sanvers dates: I think Sanvers dates would be relatively uncommon due to their schedules and predilection for hanging out at bars and drinking, which I don't count as a date. I think for Date Night (TM) they would do things like ax throwing, maybe a ridiculously fancy meal once and never again, maybe something like ladies night at a gay bar where they get to dress kinda sexy. I imagine them as more the weekend away or hang at a bar types than a Going on Dates couple.

Supercorp preferences: Supercorp I like as a couple but I am not in a phase of my life where getting invested in a noncanon ship does it for me. Honestly I like them more now that the show is over! So not an OTP but like, a good ship? I dunno what I'd call that.

Bering and Wells: Oh I definitely ship Bering and Wells! They're SO compelling. I mean of course this contradicts what I said about supercorp, lol, but I do think coming to a noncanon ship after the canon ends is different, because what I really can't take is the frustration of seeing a romance play out and the powers that be screaming that it's not happening (while also of course pushing it to the limit for views). So, from this side of the canon, I am absolutely drawn to Myka and Helena's mutual trauma, the ways they keep hurting each other, the way they're both exactly what the other one needs. Also they just keep TOUCHING and the LINGERING GLANCES. But I mean.........has any ship ever come close to Person A wanting to kill literally everyone in the world and then being unwilling to kill Person B and having to abandon their whole plan and going to (noncorporeal) jail for it, simply because she couldn't bear to see Person B die??????? That's love, bitch.

[ship ask list here]

#ask zipps

[cerezzzita]

ask game: Patty! <3

Pattycake!!

favorite thing about them: I love her dynamic with Dante! Although most of the people says they're like daughter and father, I see them having more of a lil sister-big bro relationship and, omg, it's so cute and sorta funny the way she whispers at Dante's ear on the anime and he's leaning to listen it, it's such a adorable touch for me <3

least favorite thing about them: I wanted more of Patty, not gonna lie. That little "cameo" in dmc5 didn't made her justice at all!

favorite line: Unfortunatly I don't think she had any iconic line in the anime :/

brOTP: Not gonna lie, I wanted to see Nero & Patty as besties

OTP: uh none

nOTP: definitely not she and Dante, like, no.

random headcanon: Patty is a Joan Jett hard fan thanks to Dante and his knowledge in rock music.

unpopular opinion: Although I do also would like to see Patty as a Devil Hunter, I think it would be waaay more interesting if they choose the alchemist field with her. We know little-to-nothing about them and it would be interesting seeing Patty concocting Vital Stars to Dante hehehe

song i associate with them: Cherry Bomb from The Runaways. Maybe it was how she met Joan Jett firstly at all.

favorite picture of them: I don't have none here at my disposal atm, sorry, I'll find and edit it later :3

#cerezzz.askz #devil may cry #patty lowell

[lunaremy]

favorite thing about them

He's such a unique specimen, yknow? A really unique guy. He reminds me of a little roach and i love it.

least favorite thing about them

planet lalaland boss cutscene (self explanatiry fuck you konamy)

favorite line

"Fallen for me, have you? (sigh) I'm such a heartbreaker." something about the way the voice actor delivered it is really cool. He's such a roach boy

brOTP

literal bros as in brothers, the dynamic between Black and White is so funny to me and a lot of the flavor dialogue really cements them as like the siblings ever. they'll fight each other over the pettiest things but you bet your ass if one of them is in serious need those two would start hauling ass to protect each other mark my words.

OTP

As Black is most bitchless man in the universe, I actually can't find a partner for this guy.

nOTP

self explanatory

random headcanon

Already said every headcanon under the sun for this guy. He definitely keeps a diary. But on another note, I feel like Pink's read it before (although she's too altruistic overall to have had malicious intent, and really just wants to help Black with his problems)

unpopular opinion

i like this guy actually. i get why people don't but this guy is like a specimen to me. also not unpopular apparently but this guy would be the type of guy to have like comphet for bisexual men idk what it's called . yknow that one image where its like "I....AM NOT .....GAY!!! (MY TELEKENSIS FLINGS EVERYTHING ACROSS THE ROOM)" thats him.thats what he sounds like.i want to analyze his brain he has so many issues hes so fucked up.....hes like a worm.......

song i associate with them

I don't have any, bar songs I associate with the entire franchise, HOWEVER (glances at that ultra rare cd i somehow got my grubby little hands on via a long and complicated quest and then never touched again simply because black's va was singing in it and curiosity got the better of me)

favorite picture of them

#bomberman #super bomberman r #black bomber #this was fun :D

[earthgrudgefear]

hidan!!! for the ask game

YES right to it

obviously this is going to be a long post

you've been warned !

favorite thing about them: oh man. i think he's a really unique character. he's only like 2% justified in his anger and he makes it everyone else's problem. he's never depicted as anything BUT evil. the shinobi world is insane right? toddlers are raised as soldiers the second they can hold a knife. and so was he, no different from the rest of them. and the series Doesn't like to push that blame onto people, really early on you hear about all the awful things zabuza did and at the end of their battle he still dies as a respectable shinobi. BUT from start to end with hidan he is ONLY bad. he's doing this for FUN he's not doing it for a mission, he's not doing it because he needs to do it to survive like it was NEVER in question that this guy is JUST EVIL. but you CAN find these human sides to him. he has a Real bond with kakuzu, like they Actually are concerned for each other. in Akatsuki Hiden he meets a kid and he forms a bond with That Kid to the point of giving him funeral rites (burial rites?) when he dies. not as a sacrifice but as someone he cared about. when his village turned on him and he felt REAL betrayal. if he didn't care about them to some extent, he wouldn't still be mad about it. it's just FASCINATING.

least favorite thing about them: i don't even think there's anything i don't like about him. he's so fucking annoying and if i had to deal with him i'd try to kill him too BUT because i don't have to deal with him he's my best friend i like him SO much

favorite line: to be so transparent i like when he's picking on kakuzu for keeping the headband for him.

AND if i can use the book - i like this, it's less about the line itself but more about the repetition of it. like this is how they start every fight and i just think that's delightful

brOTP: y'all already know it's kisame. my defense for this has absolutely no basis in their interactions because honestly? kisame doesn't care for him too much. HOWEVER kisame is the easiest akatsuki member to get along with and hidan is basically impossible to get along with. i think it's a good match.

OTP: kakuhida, motherfuckers. they're everything to me. they were on screen for all of three seconds and i already knew that was it. i haven't been normal about them since. and they're canon as far as i'm concerned. stated or not they were Something.

nOTP: k*nan (sorry for censoring you name queen i don't want it to be searchable) i have such a Visceral reaction to them together i Cannot stand it. their characterization is so BUTCHERED for that ship that they become Unrecognizable. and i don't fucking get it like ??? yes they're both hot PICK ANYONE ELSE. also shipping him with any of the kids. like. that's not cute. he's young but he's not that young also holy shit they don't deserve that anyway

random headcanon: i probably mentioned this somewhere before and it's so easy but i think his favorite color's pink. like red sure because i mean look at him but also. Pink. i like pink for him.

unpopular opinion: i've touched on this before i don't think jashinism is real. i think he made it up and i think maybe he's convinced himself it's real. but i don't think there is a single other person who's ever heard of or tried to join the religion before. there's the kid i mentioned from the book but he learned straight from hidan, and then goddamned ryuki from boruto who i swear to God the writers wanted him to literally be hidan but they weren't allowed. neither of which really compel me to believe it. it just doesn't make tons of sense

song i associate with them: ouuh choke on one another death spells. that's been a big one recently

favorite picture of them:

favorite's a big word but i had this one saved to my phone which is probably good enough

OKAY 10000 points if you made it to the end you win idk what you win but you win

#i have a gif i really like too but i don't want to repost someone's gif #this took me so long to answer its been like a multi hour process #♖ asks #hidan

[madame-mongoose]

has anyone sent wheatley yet (for ask game)

WHEATLEYYYYY

Sexuality Headcanon: He is so bisexual to me

Gender Headcanon: It's complicated. Like. I think he's nonbinary but he would never identify that way bc he would never care to think about it yk? Like that one pronouns post

A ship I have with said character: MEEEE!!!!!! okay but outside of selfship I am obsessed with whopper (scrawny's portal sona copper x wheatley) and also really like Gradley I think they'd be funny together

A BROTP I have with said character: Space core definitely. That is his dad. Also some of the talks I had with scrawny about Rick and Wheatley hanging out are so fucking funny. They are just. The worst. Honestly wheatley and all the cores are fun to think about

A NOTP I have with said character: Chell, GLaDOS, and space core. The first two bc I see them as lesbians and straight obsessed with each other. And space core bc scrawny's dadley hc is so rooted deep in my mind. That is his son

A random headcanon: He is very touchy and physically affectionate. Not in a cute way but in a really awkward touch starved "if I don't feel grounded right now I'm going to have a panic attack" type way

General Opinion over said character: I hate him. I love him. I desire him carnally

#my wife... #monnie answers