#(tagging because it's a part of him even if it isn't part of the post)

[galactic-rhea]

I love how you missed the entire point of the post! <3 I will give you the benefit of the doubt and don't just think you're a troll

1- No, Idk where you got that his visions were just Padmé giving birth or if you just took seriously that one joke someone made about him just being too stupid to know how giving birth looks like. He had reasons to believe the visions because this happened before with his mom, etcetc.

2- The Tusken Massacre is quite a narrative odd choice by George Lucas, buuuut it's supposed to show Anakin's start in a dark path. However, after that, he did good and was quite ashamed of it. I'm not saying he was a stellar person, but he was kind at heart and still able to do good. Idk if you even saw my tags about Little Ani, lmao. Sure, the kid, the slave kid is eeeeviiiiil, sure sure, got it. Alright, Master Yoda, go take your aspirin.

Anakin did become known as a war hero for a reason, lol. He did try to do better after that and wasn't going around killing kids every other sunday.

If you want to argue that Anakin pre-AOTC was a monster then congrats in getting your Obi-Wan impersonator 5th place.

I can't believe I have to say this but Padmé isn't racist, her grayest moment of morality is the AOTC scene and it does give her deep. You missed the part where she still offered Anakin to run away with her in ROTS, oh and also the Jedi younglings weren't just humans. They most likely had to show them as humans in the movie because there are people who wouldn't find it as shocking if it were baby aliens.

Padmé' says she can't follow him when he starts talking about ruling the galaxy. Stop blaming her for something you wouldn't blame,idk, Luke.

How is any of this hard to understand.

Anakin Skywalker’s story is about a flawed but still genuinely good person falling to the dark side. It is NOT about a bad person becoming worse.

[jeonscatalyst]

Being part of the biggest clown shippers of the k-pop and calling others idiots is a joke a phunnyyy one at that lol.

Like you jeonscatalyst even i thought this blogger was somewhat a normal tkkr because i once got recommended their post when i was searching something, they said jikook are good friends (bare minimum) so i was like damn that's the most intellectual thing i have ever seen a tkkr say. But then i once read there clownery in jkk tag and i had to block them because i don't have patients to see the stupidity in jkk tag. they had written a whole ass Thai bl script in that post and i was like the most reaction you're getting out of me for that post is a block. i genuinely thought this one was normal and doesn't ship taekook because jikook is a company ship but of course what do we expect from sheeps? to follow one another with a blind fold on.

Taekookers should be glad that jimin isn't what they want him to be (leaning more into fanservice lol) because Who jk asked to do a live with him? To jm and what did jm do? declined the offer. now WHO asked jk to do a live with him? tae. jm said he still remembers how bam used to sleep on his arm when he was baby but who has a pic posted with bam from company? tae with a caption "I raised bam" when not even jk was able to do that given his busy schedule so bam has spent most of his time in training center he still does. so jm and other members also knew bam way before ITS 2 and given that one pic of tae and bam seems like jk took bam to the comp and jm has known bam to say how he used to sleep in his arms but did he post anything? No. when jk was happy that he'll get his first boxing partner who was he talking about? JM. who does boxing together at the same centre? jm but who has posted a video of some regular boxing practice saying jk thought him even tho jk said he was just having fun with him? Tae.

Who has been with jk on his b'day (confirmed) multiple times? Jm but has he ever posted their pictures celebrating jk's b'day ever despite jm being physically present there? Never. even when in 2022 he posted jk's pic from his home jm literally zoomed in and cropped hell out of it and if it wasn't for jin asking jk we wouldn't even know jm was there and only AFTER jk confirmed jm being there, jm posted the pic so he doesn't care what shippers wants because if he did he would be doing that but i do remember tae posting a full pic of tae and jk on his b'day even tho jk posted the cropped one. Who was it who started live when vmin were outside jk's house? tae and who asked to cut the live and not bother jk who was doing live on his own? Jimin. who was who started live at jk's home when vhopekook were there? tae but i do remember jk saying he wasn't planning on starting any live but tae did so himself and did jm start any live when he was at jk's home? never. Jm was with jk when jk did live after his GMA perfomance yet jm didn't involve himself in jk's live and let hi do his own live even though we all already knew jm was in NYC itself cause even the host of the had asked jk. but i do remember Tae entering a suchwita episode of jk even when jk went "Can you leave we're filming something important?". it wouldn't have taken much from jm to get in jk's live but both lives jk did in NYC jm never once interfered or asked jk to start a live when they were together in NYC.

Who was it that went on live talking about calling jk and about the food? but when fans asked jm if he went to eat that dish he asked for jk and jm said no mind you he could have skipped the question not choosing to say it in the first place but he chose the question and answered honestly because he quite literally doesn't give a fk about what shippers want to hear and what not. How many times has tae gone live and mentioned ONLY jk and the deep the live? too many that everyone in the fandom was making a joke about it as to how tae's always talking about jk. But i do remember jm asking jk why was he even watching his videos (jm's videos in that 1.5 hrs live jk did) and that he should have slept.

Jimin is serving with jk for more than a year now and not even a single picture he's posted of him with jk and i can guarantee them that had it been any other pair serving in military together (pair excluding jm because he wouldn't have posted with anyone but maybe that other member have posted with jm who knows but never jm) we would have seen their pics together from military. we have all members posting their pics in uniform except jm, jk and yg. if jm actually leans into FS he would have posted once every now n then but guess what? he doesn't give a shit about that.

Also they should be glad that it's jm who gives updates of him and jk from MS (tho it's nothing much that we're doing well and talking) because if we leave it upto jk then man gives updates like "As soon as i finish my work i go to jimin hyung, we go a little away from other soldiers and sing out loud ", "me and jimin hyung sang this song almost Daily while showering together". they said jm saying he talks to jk before going to bed is somehow him sexualizing so what does jk saying all that says about him if jm was sexualizing? lol. they should be glad jm doens't give updates like jk because it's easy for him to say that jk comes to me after he finishes his duty but he never said like that when jk himself said it. they should decide who's updates they prefer then because jk has a habit of telling things in detail.

Saying jm leans more into fanservice and jk is considerate of tae's feelings when jk himself has described jm's charm is him being "considerate" like?? jk himself thinks jm is the most considerate. he literally said smth like being on his own is tae's charm (something like that) while jm's charm is being considerate when asked about member's charms. so if jk thinks jm is very considerate how is he the one leaning in FS while jk is setting boundries? Literally contradicting members' own words. mind you jk himself thinks that jm's Actions is something he takes from jm as in that part of jm is seen in jk. when someone asks jk why he's so considerate he says it's because he's following jm meaning he follows jm's consideration. The man who links all of his good doings immediately to jm, how are they claiming that same person doesn't know boundries? again contradicting with what jk actually says and thinks about jm.

By making these comparisons I'm not accusing tae of doing anything but I'm just showing them that if we sit here and start using their logic maybe before jm they'd have to start question tae IF they wanna go with their logic. They should be glad jm ain't what they project onto him.

Wow anon,

When you lay everything out like this, it becomes quite clear who could actually be considered to be “catering” to shippers…if we were to follow their own logic, that is.

I’ve always believed that the members have every right to mention, post about, or visit each other as much as they please. No part of me would ever see that as catering to shippers because, at the end of the day, they know each other intimately, and we, as outsiders, do not.

Given the way you’ve outlined things in your ask, it’s almost unbelievable that Tae does all of this, yet these same people still insist that Jimin is the one pandering to shippers. It’s even more absurd when you realize that the very people accusing Jimin of catering to shippers are the same ones who have Tae as their favorite and actively ship him with Jungkook. Can you imagine the uproar if Jimin had done even a fraction of what Tae has?

From the way they talk, it’s clear that they’ve never truly listened to what the members say. Actually, scratch that—they do listen, but only when they can twist the members’ words to fit their own narrative.

It’s funny what you uncover when you take a closer look at their history.

Here, we can all clearly see and hear Jungkook explaining that Jimin is good at leaving him alone after he asks once or twice, whereas Tae will come back about thirty times. The members all agree with him on this. Based on that, who seems to struggle with respecting boundaries? Who appears more inconsiderate of Jungkook’s feelings?

Absolutely nothing Jungkook said here or anywhere else implies that Jimin disregards boundaries or is some insensitive, selfish person who ignores the emotions of his friends. But I can bet most Taekookers haven’t even seen this and those who have, have likely convinced themselves that the members only said it because it was their “job.”

You know, because apparently, it was all part of some grand plan. According to them, the members were tasked with portraying Bang PD’s favorite, “Mimi,” as an angel. Cite anything from the members own words that contradicts their beliefs, and they’ll immediately claim the boys were lying, following a script, or just “doing their jobs.” Because, of course, Bang PD founded BigHit not to create music or cultivate artists but to sign idols into contracts that require them to spend their careers propping up Jimin’s image. Forget singing, dancing, and performing…their real job, apparently, is to sit down and say the nicest things about Jimin so the world can view him as an angel🙄

[frickatives]

[a/n]:: I've had this steddie one-shot fic in my drafts for ages. wasn't sure if I'd ever get around to posting it. but it's 2025 now, and the world is feeling like an especially difficult place, so let's all post our self-indulgent angsty fanfics pls. the steddie is pretty low-key in this one, tbh, it's more pre-steddie angst than anything, but we all deserve to engage in a little wish fulfillment re: eddie at the end of s4, no? I have some ideas for maybe continuing this fic, sooooo we'll see if I can defeat my Serial Fic Abandoner demons~

[warnings/tags]:: steddie, angst, perhaps too much angst, canon-typical gore and violence, bisexual king steve harrington pov, everyone's having a bad time, gratuitous italics, playing fast and loose with a vague understanding of life-saving resuscitation procedures, s4 ending fix-it fic vibes

[wc]:: 3.3k

[ao3]

-------------------------------------------

Standing on the front porch of a rotting house in a rotting world, staring at the charred patch of not-quite-grass where there should have been a body, Steve Harrington's stomach lurches up into his throat. He struggles to swallow around it.

He saw the bastard fall. Pumped full of buckshot, molotov-fried extra crispy over rice, falling ass-first out of a window to what was supposed to be his death, so goddammit, where is he?

Nancy's staring at the grass, too, heaving terrified breaths with the rest of them, which can't be good. Steve and Robin both glance at her, their leader, their ferocious, fearless, capable, whip-smart Nancy, and the fear plain on her face grabs Steve by the spine and shakes. 

Maybe Vecna evaporated, he tells himself. Maybe it's normal that there isn't a body. It isn't like any of them would know; none of them have ever killed an evil wizard, before. Maybe Vecna hit the ground and turned into a million of these little flakes of gross that are always hanging in the air, here. Maybe they kicked Vecna's ass so hard that he's dust, now. A hysterical part of his brain bubbles with the words maybe his ass is grass. 

He opens his mouth to say so, even though it's dumb and probably wrong – Steve is usually wrong – and the clock behind them starts chiming.

His stomach does new, awful acrobatics. 

They run back into the house, stopping short an arm's length from the grandfather clock, as if it might lash out at them. Four chimes, each one pumping his own chest full of buckshot, because whatever this means, it's probably bad. Robin's hand finds his arm and he clings to her as hard as she clings to him. 

The name is out of Nancy's mouth before Steve's brain can put together what's happening: "Max."

She's right. Of course she's right. She's Nancy Wheeler, and she's always beautiful and always right, even when she's breaking Steve's heart.

There's no time for the pain to take root. (They lost Max, they lost Max, they weren't fast enough and Vecna got her and now that sweet-and-sour kid will never terrify him with her temper or her underage driving again–) 

The fourth and final chime has hardly stopped echoing in his ears when the house cleaves in two. 

The ceiling above them groans and splinters and red-orange hellfire (red-orange like Max, his stupid, useless brain supplies) carves a line down the hallway, moving towards them fast. 

"Woah, woah, woah, shit– shit!" he yelps, dragging Robin back towards the door. 

Nancy doesn't need dragging; she's jogging backwards with him, sawed-off tucked against her shoulder, eyes not leaving the tearing, ripping, growing split in the world above them, like she expects Vecna himself to reach through it. 

God, Steve hopes he doesn't. He hopes Vecna really is dead and that his disgusting, decaying world is falling apart without him. 

He hopes that Nancy was wrong (for once) about the clock chiming, and that they did save Max. 

Bits of plaster rain down around them. Vines – those slimy, sentient veins of the Upside Down – pry the fissure wider, shredding everything in its path. 

They make it out onto the not-lawn and leap out of the way of the destruction as it darts forward and swallows ground where Vecna should have been, and they keep running with everything they have.

It's so loud. The entire world groans and shakes like some great, wounded beast – and, shit, for all Steve knows, the Upside Down is some giant creature that's dying with them inside it. Every monster and vine-vein writhes and screams, like they can feel their world dying, too. 

They need to get back to the trailer. They need to climb out of this crumbling hell. Steve clamps his hand around Robin's as they run. Nancy sprints ahead of them, the sawed-off shotgun bouncing against her back.

He will get them out of here.

They run and run and run – Robin runs so weird, why are her feet doing that – and Steve can't feel the burn in his legs that he knows is there. He's still a little oxygen-deprived after being throttled by Vecna's vine-veins, and he has too much panic thumping through his own vine-veins. They don't stop until they're bursting out of the woods and into the trailer park.

Steve's heart stutters. There's another hell-fissure, and it's swallowed half of the Munsons' trailer and cut a jagged path toward the center of town. Nancy looks over her shoulder at him, as if to brace him for the worst. 

What if the gate is gone? What if they're trapped here? 

Robin almost eats shit when her sneaker slips against something on the ground – the wriggling body of one of those fucking bats Steve can still taste in the back of his throat. He grabs her elbow and heaves her upright, pushing her forward, towards where the trailer used to be. Maybe the gate is still there, in the not-eaten half of the trailer. They have to try.

All around them, the rips in the world continue their rampage. Metal screeches and avalanches of rubble rumble in the distance. The not-grass and slabs of cracked concrete beneath their feet buck hard enough that Steve can hardly keep himself upright.

Robin half-gasps-half-shrieks in his ear and he and Nancy freeze.

"What– What is it? Are you okay?" Steve yells at her over the cacophony, gripping her shoulders, eyes wide, heart pounding, looking down at her weird-running feet for any sign of injury.

She raises a trembling arm and points at something: a lump on the ground a few dozen yards from the trailer, not very large, wearing a ghillie suit. 

Steve's heart stops.

His knees threaten to buckle. 

"HENDERSON!" 

He's off like a sawed-off shot. 

He was so stupid, to let the kids out of his sight. He wants to reach through time and slug himself in the mouth for ever complaining about babysitting because this is so much worse. First Max (please, please let her be alive), now this? It would kill him to see any of them here, now, with the underworld falling apart around them, but Dustin? 

As he closes the distance, the ground is littered with more and more bats – either dead or dying – and he can hear Dustin crying, which is both a knife through the heart and the biggest goddamn relief Steve has ever felt. At least the kid is alive. A sob lurches up Steve's own throat and he falls to knees beside Henderson and–

That's when he sees Eddie cradled in Dustin's arms. 

Bloodied, battered, and motionless. 

"Dustin, hey," he says as gently as he can, though he actually wants to start screaming and never stop. "Look at me." 

"He– He didn't come back through with me," Dustin chokes out, still staring down at the boy in his lap. The kid's voice wavers with a tearful vibrato that obliterates his usual precociousness and makes him sound exactly as young as he is.

Anger flares somewhere in Steve's gut, beneath the all-consuming fear. He'd told Eddie, hadn't he? He'd given him one simple job– explicitly told him not to be a goddamn hero. They were supposed to be the diversion. They were supposed to be safe.

Steve grabs Dustin's face, probably too roughly, and forces him to look up, away from Eddie. 

"We gotta go," he tells him, his voice shaking badly, too. 

Nancy and Robin are somewhere behind him now. He hears their footsteps skid to a halt, and another ragged gasp out of Robin, followed by a muffled cry. Nancy murmurs, "Oh, no."

"We can't leave him," Dustin says. His face is streaked with tears and his voice cracks under the combined crushing weights of puberty and desperation. 

"We won't." He reaches over and tries to lift Eddie away from the kid, but Dustin pulls him back. Small hands grab ahold of Eddie's collar, refusing to let go. Another knife through Steve's heart. 

"I think this is the gate!" Nancy calls from far away. "I think we can make it through." When Steve looks up, she's on the edge of the glowing crevasse, prodding at it with the shotgun. Robin is standing a few yards away, still, her hands buried in her hair and her eyes glued to Dustin. And Eddie. 

"Dustin," Steve says, forcing more calm into his voice, "you gotta go with Nancy."

Dustin shakes his head emphatically. "No. No, no, I can't leave him–"

"Robin? Robin!" Steve shouts over his shoulder, and Robin startles out of her horror-borne trance. "Take Henderson and get somewhere safe. I'll be right behind you." 

She rushes over and hooks her hands under the kid's arms and hoists him upright, even though Henderson can't seem to put much weight on one of his legs, and even though Robin's arms are about as strong as wet spaghetti on a good day. 

"I've got Eddie, alright?" Steve says firmly, looking Dustin in the eye and pushing him away with Robin. "Go."

 A stream of soothing sounds is falling out of Robin's mouth rapid-fire, and she's dragging Dustin over towards Nancy, who's got one leg fully inside the fracture in the world, and, hell, the world is probably ending any second now, but all of that falls away when Steve looks back down at Eddie's face.

Big, hickory-brown eyes stare skyward, unfocused. Blood is smeared across the pale skin of his cheek and collected in the corners of his mouth. His chest isn't moving.

Steve's never seen a dead person, before. 

He'd been there when Billy died, yes, but he hadn't seen it. Hell, he'd flat-out refused to look inside the open coffin at his grandmother's funeral when he was a kid. But here was Eddie– or, the absence of Eddie, where Eddie should have been. A terrible, wretched vacancy. 

It doesn't feel real. Eddie is right here. Steve can reach out and touch him– he does reach out and touch him, laying an uncertain hand on his shoulder. Eddie doesn't swat his hand away. Eddie's dimples don't appear on either side of his bloody mouth and he doesn't say something snarky and flirtatious that makes Steve feel simultaneously annoyed, flustered, and confused. Eddie doesn't so much as blink.

He's so… still. 

Steve's heard people in the past describe death as something peaceful, but the look on Eddie's face–

He looks scared. 

Steve thinks he might throw up.

He presses his fingers against Eddie's throat, searching for a pulse that he knows isn't there. Eddie's still warm. Blood dribbles out of his mouth and oozes out of a gnarled lash across his neck (it matches the one that crisscrosses Steve's neck, those fucking bats). His stupid leather jacket is shredded. His stupid Hellfire Club shirt is similarly tattered and soaked through with red. 

Steve wonders how long he's been– if he– had he gone in front of Dustin? A fresh wave of anger licks at his throat. Son of a bitch, can't even listen to simple goddamn instructions–

He remembers the last thing Eddie said to him with a sharp pang: "Hey, Steve? Make him pay."

Steve had nodded. Eddie had nodded, too. It was a promise.

And Steve Harrington, King Steve, captain of the basketball team, and captain of the swim team, and ice cream slinger, and video rental wrangler, and monster fighter, and lifeguard for a few summers, and secret Russian base infiltrator some other summers, and lapsed babysitter– he's failed to keep it. 

He's failed so many people, tonight. He couldn't stop Vecna, didn't make him pay. He couldn't help Max, or undo whatever Dustin saw. Everything he was wasn't enough.

Nancy was right (she always was); he was bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. 

The world around them growls again, and Steve looks down at another person he's failed to protect, and he thinks, Fuck this. 

He has to try. 

Moving quickly, he laces his fingers, locks his elbows, places his stacked palms in the center of Eddie's still-warm chest, and presses down hard. He sings Dancing Queen under his breath, out of tune, timing his compressions to the beat (something he learned in lifeguard training). He dares Eddie to wake up and tell him how much he hates the song. 

Blood spurts out of a wound in Eddie's side and soaks the knee of Steve's jeans with coppery warmth.

 "Shit, shit, fuck," Steve hisses into a few more compressions, before he stops and gently tilts Eddie's head to open his airway, one hand against his still-warm forehead, one hand gripping his chin. He leans over and checks for breath sounds. Nothing. 

He pinches Eddie's nose shut and presses his mouth over Eddie's, trying not to think about how much blood floods his own mouth. He breathes once, twice. Eddie's chest rises weakly each time. That's good, that's– It's good.

He starts the cycle again. 

"You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life…"

Red lightning streaks across the sky and Steve flinches. The ground shakes more violently, like the whole place is threatening to give up the ghost and fall away beneath them. Part of him wishes it would, to save him the embarrassment of failing again.

"Come on, Munson."

Open airway, check for breath, pinch nose, breathe, breathe. 

"Friday night and the lights are low…"

He does it again, and again. Still nothing. 

"Come on, come on, come on," Steve begs. "Please." 

The quakes crescendo more and more, until Steve is practically shouting lyrics over them–

It sounds like a bomb goes off miles away, and a shockwave slams him in the chest. Steve throws his arms over his head and his body over Eddie's, shuddering with fresh adrenaline. He squeezes his eyes shut. 

Everything around them falls silent. The ground under his knees settles. His ears ring with the absence of it all.

He must have waited too long to leave. He can't make himself look. Surely the gates are gone. Surely that explosion was his way home being blown to smithereens. Part of him is glad Eddie didn't come back to this– trapped in the underworld with someone he despises? He'd probably ask Steve to re-kill him, and Steve would probably fuck that up, too. 

He's so screwed. Everything is so completely screwed and he screwed up so much of it himself, and it's probably good that he's probably trapped here, now. He probably deserves it.

Something jolts beneath him and then–

Eddie Munson coughs a mouthful of blood directly into Steve's face.

"What– Oh! Oh, shit!" Steve scrambles to shift his weight off of Eddie's chest as the other boy draws a clotted, strangled breath and chokes on it. Steve grabs him by the less-bat-bitten shoulder and hauls him onto his side. The other boy's ring-bedecked fingers brush against his arm, making weak attempts at grabbing him back. 

Eddie whimpers and groans, spitting and drooling more blood out of his mouth and nose. He coughs again, and it's the most gorgeous sound Steve's ever heard.

Steve grins, even with a face and mouth full of Eddie Munson's stupid blood. 

Eddie looks up at him, panting, and his eyes go wide when they finally focus on Steve's face. "H– Harrington?" He's almost voiceless. Not just hoarse, but struggling to make any sound at all.

"Yeah," Steve says, still smiling like a fool. He feels drunk. Eddie's breaths are all distinctly shallow, fast, and wet, but they're there, and they keep coming, which hadn't felt possible a moment before. The overwhelming, sudden joy is a massive head rush.

Eddie looks confused, and wracked with pain, and he squints at Steve and asks, "Did you die, too?" His tongue seems to tangle with each syllable.  

That trips Steve out of his daze. His smile falters. Trapped in the Upside Down, his brain reminds him. "You're not dead, Munson," he says. 

Steve looks up, then, and scans their surroundings. The red-orange ravine still yawns open not too far away, which slaps him across the face with relief and chases it quickly with dread. 

They can get home, thank fuck, but what had all of this done to their Hawkins? Had it been similarly torn open by nightmare super-gates? Is there this much destruction on their side? Steve's stomach clenches. 

The hellfire-filled crack that begins in the middle of Eddie's trailer stretches off into the distance, as far as Steve can see. If these fissures were like the gates– if they'd appeared in Hawkins, too– they're twenty or thirty feet wide, in some places. Big enough to swallow cars, houses. People. 

Something like this… It would kill a lot of people. 

"Hurts," Eddie gasps. 

Steve's attention snaps back to him. "What hurts?" he asks.

Eddie manages an especially-wet, "Everything. F-feels like a– fucking– elephant– sat on my– chest." He fights for air between every couple of words, but never draws in very much. 

"Yeah, well," Steve says, easing Eddie up to sitting and sliding an arm under his knees, "you had to go and stop breathing, like an asshole." He hefts the taller, ganglier boy up into his arms and staggers up to his feet. Eddie ought to feel heavier, he thinks. Maybe this is one of those moms-lifting-cars-off-kids things.

"Seemed like– the thing– to do," Eddie pants. His eyes flutter closed and his head lolls backwards, curly hair brushing against Steve's arm. 

"Hey," Steve snaps. "Eddie."

Eddie groans. Still alive. Steve releases his captive breath.

Steve walks them over to the tear in the not-earth, where Nancy had been. He expects it to be warm – it glows like lava – but the air around them is freezing. It reeks of ammonia and decay. He tucks Eddie a little closer to his chest.

And then Steve hesitates, staring down at the maw in the ground. 

He should just go through. Quickly. Eddie needs medical attention way beyond the skill of a sometimes-summer-lifeguard. Shit, Steve probably does, too. 

But… 

What about Max? What about Dustin, and Robin, and Nance? What about everyone else? What about his parents? What if this didn't just happen in Hawkins, but happened everywhere? What if the whole apocalypse happened without him? 

As long as he stays in this universe, he doesn't have to know how badly he hurt his own. He can pretend the damage is limited to this shithole, and that everyone on the other side is blissfully unaware. It's like that thing Henderson tried explaining that one time– Schlongdinger's Box, or whatever. If he stays here, there's nobody around to disappoint besides Eddie, whose opinion of him is already so low that it would be impossible to drag it lower. 

"Steve?" Eddie wheezes, oblivious to the turmoil happening inches away from his face. 

"Yeah?"

Munson hesitates, too. "Were you– singing– ABBA?"

That startles a huffed almost-laugh out of Steve's tight chest. He rolls his eyes. "I don't wanna hear it, man. ABBA saved your goddamn life."

Eddie squints up at him and starts telling Steve (slowly and quietly, as he grapples with his halting lungs) that he'd never besmirch (besmirch? what a dork) the good name of ABBA, he's not a monster, he was just curious why Steve's rendition had been in so many different keys is all (unbelievably rude), and even though Steve can hear the fear in Eddie's voice, and he knows Eddie's only talking about ABBA because the alternative is to freak out, something clicks into place in Steve's head:

He wants to have a million more inconsequential conversations, like this one, with the people he cares about. 

Even the ones who might despise him a little.

Even if the apocalypse happened on the other side, and even if people he loves are hurt, and even if Steve Harrington is bullshit, he has to try to do what he can to help. 

He holds Eddie a little tighter. He informs him that he actually sang it totally normal, thanks, and gingerly, he maneuvers them both down through the gate and back into Hawkins.

[boykingscourt]

What are your thoughts on Wincest? Do you have any hcs?

oooh I'm excited for this! good opportunity for me to clarify some things if anyone is new around here or just curious

if you're here for the short version, I'm definitely a wincest respecter but not necessarily a wincest shipper

if you're here for the long and more nuanced version, please read on!

I have a lot friends both here and irl who are wincesties, but the most important thing for me is that they love and defend sam. I've read wincest fics and the presence of wincest is not a deal-breaker in fics, but I prefer reading gen sam and dean on the whole. it's fun to analyze something in the show with the wincest lens on, but I can just as easily take it off. ultimately wincest is not the only version of sam and dean that I find compelling, but I don't really care if people view some of my posts as wincest (wincesties, please do interact) because I only say what I think and feel regarding the brothers. idk does that technically make me a wincest shipper? maybe some people will think it does, but ultimately I feel like the nonshipper label fits better

now I'm gonna get on my soapbox about proshipping for a moment. back in the day, what we think of as "proshipping" was just called common courtesy. I'm not saying fandom was perfect when I was younger (and I was probably too young to be in fandom then if I'm being honest) but in my experience people were more respectful about ships they didn't like, understood the difference between fiction and reality, and for the most part didn't make assumptions about people irl for things they enjoyed in fiction

of course I'm not saying you have to ship incest or want to interact with people who do, but it's crucial to curate your own space. coming on here or twitter and harassing people for shipping wincest and/or crying in the main tags about how disgusting it is just makes me lose respect for you. block what you don't want to see and move on

I will also say that being so against others shipping incest and finding yourself in the supernatural fandom is kind of a problem you created. it's kind of, well, extremely silly. wincest is the oldest ship in this fandom, like literally as old as the pilot itself, and was instrumental in first getting the show off the ground (i.e. not cancelled). also given the very not normal relationship between sam and dean, the other gothic horror elements present in the show, and the way the writers and actors regard the ship, it really should be no surprise that it is so popular

okay so now that I've gotten all of that out of the way, I'm going to address the other part of this ask, which is wincest headcanons! I don't know if these are necessarily headcanons, but it is the way I prefer my wincest when I think about it or imagine how it fits in with canon:

I definitely don't imagine them as like boyfriends, just more of what they are in the show, brothers with a complicated, intense, and abusive relationship (it being complicated does not mean you cannot call abuse what it is). I think their relationship having a sexual component would not help anything and would probably just further highlight the power imbalance present

related to above, I think dean would use sex the way he uses love and affection in canon, expertly alternating between being generous with it and withdrawing it when he's angry as means to manipulate sam and have him constantly chasing after the affection. and trust. trust especially. sometimes dean isn't even aware he's doing it (or would at least tell himself that's not what he's doing to his darling little sammy), but it's extremely effective either way. seasons 4, 5, and 8 especially would be delicious in this regard

in s7 there was a point where sex was one of the only things that kept hallucifer at bay, so sam was always torn between shaking dean awake multiple times a night in their motel rooms or handling it on his own. ultimately because I think he didn't want to "burden" dean with his visions or have them both lacking sleep all the time, he would lie and pretend that one or two times a night made lucifer go away. it became harder to pretend as we approached 7x17, and after sam "let lucifer in" in 7x15, the sex trick stopped working too. also hallucifer eavesdropping or appearing over dean's shoulder as they're having sex is very appealing to me

dean is the dom. I really can't see that any other way

dean doesn't see what he does with sam as any reflection of his sexuality, aka "it's not gay and it's not incest it's just sammy." sam probably would see it as some kind of reflection of his sexuality but wouldn't see the point in voicing that

dean was experiencing attraction to sam for a while beforehand, but I don't think they began messing around until sam was a teenager. maybe it wasn't like full blown sex then, but it was definitely something. I think a bit of precedent just adds something fun to s1, especially with dean coming to get sam in the pilot and how they interact, all that time apart, and sam's grief and guilt/dean's guilt surrounding jessica

I hope you enjoyed and found something compelling in here! I am certainly no wincest connoisseur, but these are my opinions

[erikiara80]

And I include these tags. They sum up what I think about the hypocrisy, homophobia and putrid antisemitism I've seen in the ST fandom.

#noah schnapp#antisemitism#this fandom is fucking wild about how much they hated on him#everyone jumped at the throat of the gay and jewish kid and had fantasies about the entire cast hating him for his opinion on Palestine#WHEN most of the cast hasn't said jack shit about Palestine in the first place#i fear your virtue signalling is going way way too far when you start harassing people over it#online leftism these days is really just people wanting to be bullies but thinking it's okay if the person 'deserves' it#news flash : no one ever deserves bigotry !!!#if you spread homophobic rumors or start sounding like a Nazi because someone doesn't have the perfect criminally-online opinion you want#you are not in the right. EVER#yes even if it's that person. even if they deserve it or if they suck or you hate them#bigotry is something you put a hard line on towards ANYONE. or you're just performing to look good to people#you don't get a free pass to be a bigot because you're marginalised or defending X or whatever it is you say to make yourself look better#AND that behaviour is especially egregious when Noah is obviously trying to be as kind as he can#you can think he's misinformed or disagree with him politically or whatever the fuck you want. it's a free country I can't stop you#but the instant you start harassment campaign or being bigoted on main you are NOT a 'good' person anymore#(I don't like saying someone is or isn't a 'good' person but that's the main talking point for performative activists so I'll use it)#also. it's still antisemitic to replace jewish with zionist when you're insulting someone#zionist and jewish are different concepts#but if you start saying shit like 'I hope that disgusting zionist dies' or some shit#I won't believe there's not a part of you that is thinking 'Jew' instead#I've studied enough history for this to be a hill I will die on#leftists these days have grown way too comfortable being wildly antisemitic just because they're the 'good guys' and the far right isn't#I don't doubt the far right has also gleefully participated in the harassment#but if you start shaking hands and agreeing with nazis : maybe you should start considering that you're not the good person here#friendly reminder from a french person: a lot of people who were 'good' were still more than willing to throw jews to the wolves in the 40s#you are not immune to being bigoted#you are not part of the glorious resistance. You're harassing a twenty YO jewish gay man because it makes you feel better about yourself#<- the you used here isn't talking about the people on this post obviously#this was a rant sorry

sorry guys when ppl refer to noah schnapp as “whatever that is” or “that thing” i fear we’re crossing the antisemitism line

[one-awesome-beetle]

GUYS. CROWLEY WITH SNAKE BITES

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[negativeego537]

ooh sorry! I'm just kinda pessimistic and usually when remembering him the most notable trait to me is how blunt he is coupled with his zero faith in people who aren't Odin, and I'd expect that he(heimy) has very high standards. I always leave heimdall tags out whenever i make a post about him being explicitly mean to people lusting over him since yeah some don't wanna see that and I get it.

I was in fact thinking more of the folks who are much more horny about him, but for you I think he would be more tolerant, stares in silent gratitude that he cant really express because of the image of him being this unshakeable rock that doesn't need praise cause this is his job and he actually likes doing it on occasion (he did not need to brand Durlin, its my firm belief that he liked doing that), but its still a stressful job. Its rough being part of Odin's family. Again he wants to be comforted too but I would know how important family image is to him, I can see Odin saying some subtly disapproving about anyone he befriends or dates and Heimdall just knows Odin 99% wants him to distance himself from them. (i wanna tell him love isn't earned and he still deserves love even if he is considered uselessto Odin but if Odin finds out obv hes gonna say I'm a bad influence) I've seen it and I can relate to him a bit with a parent similar to Odin. Sorry for yapping but I think my point was that I see him as someone who really knows how to keep outside words and inside words seperate. Vulnerable stuff is for when he's in his room with a friend trying to hold back tears while being worried a raven is peeking in through the window.

I would not say I'm articulate but I hope this is somehow coherent enough to explain why I think he'd say this with some other stuff on the side about his character.

[everypanelofizuku]

Chapter 50 - Kill 'Em Dead

[mad-hunts]

so, i'm gonna give y'all a warning for this post immediately because i have yet to talk about this on here besides with one or two people, and the last thing i want to do is make anyone uncomfortable... but if you believe that cannibalism is a trigger for you then please do not continue beyond this point. for those of you who are okay with it, though, let me start by saying this:

barton does engage in cannibalistic acts sometimes, and this is actually one of the few, if not the only sources of shame that he feels in response to the heinous acts that he commits pretty much on the daily. and this is because he believes himself that it is disgusting and not something to be proud of; so, in a way, it does kind of demonstrate that he has some humanity left in him albeit in a very unsavory way and that's mainly why i wanted to bring it up. because his relationship with this part of him... well, it really isn't good, for lack of better words. which is understandable considering cannibalism is a rather big taboo in society, but it has become somewhat of a compulsion for him. not to excuse it in ANY capacity, of course. that is honestly just the best word i could use to describe it as i've done some research about it and, like other serial killers, barton is SO perpetually lonely that by consuming his victims -- it makes him feel like he is no longer so alone anymore as he will always be able to 'carry' a part of them with him that way, so-to-speak, and they'll never be able to leave him.

now this is obviously not the way to go about dealing with his loneliness at all, as it is extremely messed up both morally and honestly, just wrong as a human being to do. but i also believe that there are other factors at work regarding his tendency to sometimes cannibalize his victims, and that is that because of the trauma he endured at the hands of his biological father (wesley mathis) whom forced him to eat people with him. it could sort of function as a very unhealthy coping mechanism for him to navigate that complex trauma; and this is because it may serve as an attempt for him to restore a sense of control over himself that he felt was stolen from him as a child, since he had no choice but to engage in it. plus, interestingly enough, antisocial personality traits are often an underlying element in those who divulge in cannibalistic acts. and cannibals in one study have been found to have more cases of abuse / have more family members who are criminals, so this could also be indicative that his environmental upbringing very well could have a hand in his subsequent (occasional) cannibalism after he commits his killings.

i also thought i would mention that, despite his apparent depravity, barton has taken extra care not to expose his own children to the same trauma that he had to suffer from as a result of wesley (what with the 'hunting trips' that they went on) and he would NEVER want his kids to see him eating people. so, although it still is unquestionably wrong for him to be cannibalizing people, things are a little complicated in that regard. while i'm talking about it, for my closing thought, i'd like to say that the police does highly suspect that the dollmaker is a cannibal but they haven't been able to confirm it as of yet. though i'd imagine that most of the underground knows that he cannibalizes people because rumors can be spread quite quickly, and i can totally imagine the way in which people found out being that they were unfortunate enough to have to stumble upon barton just... eating someone. and a lot more casually than one should probably be about it, because half of the time, he doesn't even remember that he's done it afterward because his mind literally just blocks it out. but that's something i shall expand on more later

[saph-yells-into-the-void]

i know n*gisagi has its fans and while for the longest time I've considered myself neutral towards it, I think I'm realizing that this is the only ship in bllk that truly gives me the ick

which is weird bc platonically, I actually fw it pretty hard. romantically though....

[acourtofquestions]

No. No, it couldn't have been a dream The escape, Rowan, the ship to Terrasen—

A dream. An illusion. Her escape from him, from Maeve, had been another illusion.

Had she said it? Had she said where the Keys were hidden?

Then a cool, cultured voice purred, "All that training, and this is what becomes of you?" Not real. Arobynn, standing on the other side of the altar, was not real.

"Even Sam held out better than this."

Fenrys snarled.

You could get out of these chains, if you really wanted," Arobynn said, frowning with distaste. "If you really tried."

No, she couldn't, and everything had been a dream, a lie.

"You let yourself remain captive. Because the moment you are free..." Arobynn chuckled. "Then you must offer yourself up, a lamb to slaughter."

Only hearing the King of the Assassins, unseen and unnoted beside her.

"Deep down, you're hoping you'll be here long enough that the young King of Adarlan will pay the price. Deep down, you know you're hiding here, waiting for him to clear the path." Arobynn leaned against the side of the altar, cleaning his nails with a dagger. "Deep down, you know it's not really fair, that those gods picked you. That Elena picked you instead of him. She bought you time to live, yes, but you were still chosen to pay the price. Her price And the gods'?"

Arobynn ran a long-fingered hand down the side of her face. "Do you see what I tried to spare you from all these years? What you might have avoided had you remained Celaena, remained with me?" He smiled. "Do you see, Aelin?"

She could not answer. Had no voice. Cairn hit bone, and—

Aelin lunged upward, hands grasping for her thigh. No chains weighed her. No mask smothered her. No dagger had been twisted into her body. Breathing hard, the scent of musty sheets clinging to her nose, the sounds of her screaming replaced by the drowsy chirping of birds, Aelin scrubbed at her face.

The prince who'd fallen asleep beside her was already running a hand down her back in silent, soothing strokes.

A dream. Just a dream.

She twisted, setting her feet to the threadbare carpet on the uneven wood floor.

"Dawn isn't for another hour," Rowan said.

Yet Aelin reached for her shirt. "I'll get warmed up, then." Maybe run, as she had not been able to do in weeks and weeks.

Rowan sat up, missing nothing. "Training can wait, Aelin." They'd been doing it for weeks now, as thorough and grueling as it had been at Mistward.

She shoved her legs into her pants, then buckled on her sword belt.

"No, it can't."

A gathering storm to the north had forced their ship to find harbor last night—and after weeks at sea, none of them had hesitated to spend a few hours on land. To learn what in hell had happened while they'd been gone.

The answer: war.

Everywhere, war raged. But where the fighting occurred, the aging innkeeper didn't know. Boats didn't stop at the port anymore— and the great warships just sailed past. Whether they were enemy or friendly, he also didn't know.

Aelin scowled. "What." It wasn't so much of a question as demand.

His gaze was unfaltering. As it had been when she'd returned from her run through the misty fields beyond the inn and found him leaning against the apple tree. "That's enough for today."

"We've hardly started." She lifted her blade.

Rowan kept his own lowered. "You barely slept last night."

Aelin tensed. "Bad dreams." An understatement. She lifted her chin and threw him a grin. "Perhaps I'm starting to wear you down a bit."

His canines gleamed. "You need to eat."

"I need to train."

She couldn't stop it-that need to do something. To be in motion.

No matter how many times she swung her blade, she could feel them. The shackles. And whenever she paused to rest, she could feel it, too—her magic. Waiting.

Indeed, it seemed to open an eye and yawn.

She clenched her jaw, and attacked again Rowan met each blow, and she knew her maneuvers were descending into sloppiness.

Knew he let her continue rather than seizing the many openings to end it.

She couldn't stop. War raged around them People were dying. And she had been locked in that damned box, had been taken apart again and again, unable to do anything.

Rowan struck, so fast she couldn't track it. But it was the foot he slid before her own that doomed her, sending her careening into the dirt.

"I win," he panted. "Let's eat."

Aelin glared up at him. "Another round."

Rowan just sheathed his sword. "After breakfast."

She growled. He growled right back.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You'll lose all that muscle if you don't feed your body. So eat. And if you still want to train afterward, I'll train with you." He offered her a tattooed hand.

But Aelin said, "People are dying. In Terrasen. In-everywhere. People are dying, Rowan."

"Your eating breakfast isn't going to change that." Her lips curled in a snarl, but he cut her off. "I know people are dying. We are going to help them. But you need to have some strength left, or you won't be able to."

Truth. Her mate spoke truth. And yet she could see them, hear them. Those dying, frightened people. Whose screams so often sounded like her own.

Rowan wriggled his fingers in silent reminder. Shall we?

Aelin scowled and took his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. So pushy.

Rowan slid an arm around her shoulders. That's the most polite thing you've ever said about me.

Elide's eyes widened. Widened further as he opened his mouth, and took a bite. His swallow was audible. His cringe barely contained. Elide reined in her smile at the pure misery that entered the Lion's tawny stare. Aelin and Rowan had been finishing up a similar battle when she'd entered the taproom minutes ago, the queen wishing her luck before striding back into the courtyard.

Elide hadn't seen her sit still for longer than it took to eat a meal. Or during the hours when she'd instructed them in Wyrdmarks, after Rowan had requested she teach them.

It had gotten her out of the chains, the prince had explained. And if the ilken were resistant to their magic, then learning the ancient marks would come in handy with all they faced ahead. The battles both physical and magic.

Gavriel met her stare, and Elide again restrained her laugh.

She felt, rather than saw, Lorcan enter. The innkeeper instantly found somewhere else to be. The man hadn't been surprised to see five Fae enter his inn last night, so his vanishing whenever Lorcan appeared was certainly due to the glower the male had perfected.

Indeed, Lorcan took one look at Elide and Gavriel and left the dining room.

They'd barely spoken these weeks. Elide hadn't known what to even say. A member of this court. Her court. Forever.

He and Aelin certainly hadn't warmed toward each other. No, only Rowan and Gavriel really spoke to him. Fenrys, despite his promise to Aelin not to fight with Lorcan, ignored him most of the time. And Elide ... She'd made herself scarce often enough that Lorcan hadn't bothered to approach her.

Good. It was good. Even if she sometimes found herself opening her mouth to speak to him. Watching him as he listened to Aelin's lessons on the Wyrdmarks. Or while he trained with the queen, the rare moments when the two of them weren't at each other's throats.

Aelin had been returned to them. Was recovering as best she could.

Elide didn't taste her next bite of porridge. Gavriel, thankfully, said nothing. And Anneith didn't speak, either. Not a whisper of guidance. It was better that way. To listen to herself. Better that Lorcan kept his distance, too.

Whether the others knew what propelled her, they hadn't said a word. Aelin sheathed Goldryn and loosed a long breath. Deep down, her power grumbled. She flexed her fingers. Maeve's cold, pale face flashed before her eyes. Her magic went silent.

Fenrys sat in wolf form at the edge of the nearest field, staring out across the expanse.

Precisely where he'd been before dawn.

She let him hear her steps, his ears twitching. He shifted as she approached, and leaned against the half-rotted fence surrounding the field.

"Who'd you piss off to get the graveyard shift?" Aelin asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Fenrys snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Would you believe I volunteered for it?" She arched a brow. He shrugged, watching the field again, the mists still clinging to its farthest reaches. "I don't sleep well these days." He cut her a sidelong glance. "I don't suppose I'm the only one."

She picked at the blister on her right hand, hissing. "We could start a secret society-for people who don't sleep well."

"As long as Lorcan isn't invited, I'm in."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Let it go."

His face turned stony. "I said I would."

"You clearly haven't."

"I'll let it go when you stop running yourself ragged at dawn."

"I'm not running myself ragged. Rowan is overseeing it."

"Rowan is the only reason you're not limping everywhere."

Truth. Aelin curled her aching hands into fists and slid them into her pockets. Fenrys said nothing didn't ask why she didn't warm her fingers. Or the air around them. He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right?

A gull's cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she'd admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right?

Two blinks from him, too. No,

They were not alright.

They might never be. If the others knew, if they saw past the swagger and temper, they didn't let on.

None of them commented that Fenrys hadn't once used his magic to leap between places. Not that there was anywhere to go in the middle of the sea. But even when they sparred, he didn't wield it. Perhaps it had died with Connall. Perhaps it had been a gift they had both shared, and touching it was unbearable.

She didn't dare peer inward, to the churning sea inside her. Couldn't.

Aelin and Fenrys stood by the field as the sun arced higher, burning off the mists.

Aelin shook her head. Another dream, or hallucination. "If she's on our heels with this army, I'm just ... trying to understand it. Her, I mean."

"You plan to kill her." The gruel in her stomach turned over, but Aelin shrugged. Even as she tasted ash on her tongue.

"Would you prefer to do it?"

"I'm not sure I'd survive it," he said through his teeth. "And you have more of a reason to claim it than I do."

"I'd say we have an equal claim."

His dark eyes roved over her face. "Connall was a better male than—than how you saw him that time. Than what he was in the end."

She gripped his hand and squeezed. "I know."

The last of the mists vanished. Fenrys asked quietly, "Do you want me to tell you about it?" He didn't mean his brother.

She shook her head. "I know enough." She surveyed her cold, blistered hands. "I know enough," she repeated.

[sunderwight]

Cumplane where Airplane, in a fit of either bravery or insanity or positive or negative self-esteem (he's not totally sure) decides to cosplay as Luo Binghe and post the pictures online.

Of course, he doesn't do it as "Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky", he knows he has some questionable fans and doesn't really want to hand them a picture of his face. So he posts the images under one of the pseudonyms he uses for lurking around the comment section and social media tags. It's just a handful of images of him looking like the protagonist in his head, attempting to strike cool poses in a wig and some period clothes (he rented both).

The reception is... mixed. Airplane does not have abs, after all, nor a flawless complexion or much skill with makeup. He is fat, freckled, and awkward. The PIDW readership is not known for being particularly supportive either. In fact they're mostly a crab bucket of negativity and masculine posturing, so he gets a lot of mean-spirited commentary.

It's fine. Nothing he hadn't expected. Really solidifies for him that posting was a fit of madness, actually! What did he even expect? He's bracing himself for the worst when he sees that Peerless Cucumber, notorious hate-reader and defender of Luo Binghe's honor, has commented. Ah, shit. He's probably going to rip into Airplane for daring to sully his precious Binghe's reputation by dressing up like that, isn't he?

The comment is long, too. Fuck. Airplane's not sure if his self-esteem can take a comprehensive beating from the champion hater himself, but he's too curious not to look.

Shen Yuan, in the meanwhile, is just pleased that there has FINALLY been a Luo Binghe cosplayer who looks the part. Of course Luo Binghe wouldn't have exaggerated muscles, those are just a product of dehydration. Binghe spent most of his disciple years running around chopping wood and hauling laundry, and then later doing whatever he could to pack on the calories in order to make it through the Abyss. A hefty workman's build would only make sense for him, anything else would be nonsense. Airplane also described Luo Binghe as having a beautiful face, which Shen Yuan won't blame most cosplayers for not being able to just make happen, but a beautiful face doesn't mean "covered in so much makeup it looks like an anime character"! When would Luo Binghe have the time or inclination to put on makeup? A natural beauty with some inevitable blemishes would make more sense and be much more appealing, and this "Airplane Crashing to the Ground" (funny play on the author's name, Shen Yuan approves) has very pretty features! Everyone hating on this cosplay is just an idiot, the only actual problem is that his wig is poorly fitted.

So in true Peerless Cucumber fashion, he lays this all out.

This gets him embroiled in arguments with several other fans, who even accuse him of actually being the guy in the photos, claiming that there's no other reason why he would defend them. Shen Yuan doesn't care if people think that's him, because that's still the best Luo Binghe cosplay he's ever seen, but he doesn't want them doubting the sincerity of his arguments. So, he decides that the only reasonable thing to do is dress himself up in cosplay as well and then post the actual photos of himself.

While he'd like to dress up as one of Luo Binghe's allies like Mobei Jun, or maybe someone cool like Yue Qingyuan, he is too pedantic to think he could pull that off. Those guys are all strong warrior types, and Shen Yuan is a scrawny pale rich kid who looks like he'd probably lose a fight with a wet paper towel. The only characters he could plausibly pull off would be some of the more consumptive members of Binghe's harem and maybe, maybe, one of the weaker villains like Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Yuan is NOT posting pictures of himself crossplaying to the central nexus of toxic masculinity itself, so... Shen Qingqiu it is!

Poor Airplane has to go sit and stare at a while for a while. Peerless Cucumber likes his cosplay. Peerless Cucumber, ardent defender of Shang Qinghua's sellout crappy main character mary-sue, thinks Airplane is good-looking enough to cosplay as him. And said so. Repeatedly. And then posted borderline thirst-trap villain cosplay of himself, inadvertently revealing in the process that he is hot.

What the. What. What?!

Anyway, Shen Yuan suggests that they attend the next convention both cosplaying together because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky is supposed to be doing a meet & greet at that one, and wouldn't it be fun to go as a pair? And Airplane agrees before his brain catches up and he realizes that might present a problem.

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ wrong couple ? (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : the chaotic process of Lando getting a wife

fc: Olivia Culpo

a/n : This is a series, and this is PART 2, let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by landonorris, alexandramieux and 137,937 others

ynculpo sunsets with the best man I could get 🌅

view comments

user1 I saw what she did there 🗿

user2 MA'AM!? WHAT IS THE CRUISE FOR !?

user3 istg everyone is just posting pics and not telling anything

user4 MAX AND KELLY GOT ENGAGED !?

user5 #KELLAX

user6 that sounds like a crime mob name 😭

landonorris forever and ever 🧡

liked by ynculpo

user7 I luvvv how lando's media personality is different from his real one

user8 Sir Lando, please lend em your gf, she is too gorgeous 🤺

user7 Only Lewis is Sir, Lando is master 🫦

charlesleclerc mama and papa 🐱

ynculpo HELL NO- I CANT BE A GRANDMA AT 24

oscar.piastri 😔

ollie.bearman 😔

ynculpo stop, you have alex

fransisca.gnomes I am stealing her lando

landonorris sure, take her for the day, because her nights are mine

maxverstappen1 you horny ass

landonorris what? you never watch Netflix and chill with Kelly ?

maxverstappen1 😒

user9 did he mean netflix or chill

user10 or NETFLIX AND CHILL

liked by maxverstappen1, ynculpo, landonorris, fransisca.gnomes and 1,284,294 others

kellypiquet mijn wereld ❤️

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maxverstappen1 to many more years and watching P grow ❤️

liked by kellypiquet

user1 IS THAT A RING ON HER RING FINGER

user2 THE CRUISE WAS INDEED FOR HER AND MAX’S PROPOSAL

user3 THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED

user4 congrats to the best couple 🌟

user5 max really took that groomer as his wife…

user6 can you like not spoil their special day ?

user7 max, pls tell Lando to propose to yn as well

user8 fr, they have been dating for almost 4 years now

fransisca.gnomes my heart 🥹

liked by kellypiquet

landonorris best sil 🧡

liked by kellypiquet

user9 LANDO’S COMMENT

user10 LANDO JUST CONFIRMED

user11 damn, max flexing his money from this proposal

user12 if my standards are not up-

user13 fr, DAMIAN, YOU BETTER PROPOSE TO ME IN PRIVATE HIRED CRUISE

user14 who is damian? user13 my bf 🗿

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and 849,278 others

maxverstappen1 best man duties

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user1 TOLD YA

user2 HE IS GETTING MARRIED YALL

user3 EVEN KELLYY LIKED

user4 she likes all posts 🗿

user5 MY PENELOPE AND MAX HEART

user6 MAX VERSTAPPEN, 3 TIME WORLD CHAMPION IS NOW MARRIED

user7 we got one more down before Lewis 🤺

landonorris 😏🙃

liked by maxverstappen1

charlesleclerc so excited 💪🏻

liked by maxverstappen1

carlossainz55 tequilla and music 🌇

liked by maxverstappen1

user8 THE GRID DRIVERS ARENT EVEN DENYING IT

user9 GRID MARRIAGE WOOHOHOHOHOHOHO

user10 but isn't the best man for someone else's wedding ?

user11 wait..

user12 WHAT

user13 y'all it's him and Kelly getting married only, being a best man for Kelly ?

user14 makes sense

user15 y'all are dumb

user16 why is Lando in all the pics tho?

user17 can't there be friends 😒

liked by user1, user2, user3, and 483,683 others

f1wags New Marriage in grid !? A huge ‘marry me’ was seen in the ocean, presumably where the f1 grid cruise was passing by. With the recent post of Kelly Piquet, Max Vertsappen’s girlfriend, it seems she is the new Mrs. Verstappen ?

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user1 AHAHAHAHAHAH

user2 told ya-

user3 where is my invite ?

user4 to all the haters, TAKE THAT

user5 can’t wait for more max x penelope crumbs 🥹

user6 that man seriously showed off his wealth for the proposal

user7 they look cute together ngl-

part3

tg: @lydia-demarek @mel164 @h34rts4maisey @poppyflower-22 @dolphlinda

@ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirlforever2000 @magnusi-97 @clo5406 @yesmanbabe

@wosof1 @luvsforme @nikfigueiredo @evie-119 @clarenciago

@raynetargaryan2 @brekkers-whore @lifesass @formula1-motogpfan @yawn-zi

@barcelonaloverf1life @jxnellat @gigicisneros @yukimaniac @l-sofiamia-l

@s0phiad @shiftermeance @coriyaps @formulaal

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @landotd @fulla02 @orlafitz1664

@abq654 @mastermindbaby @awritingtree @nichmeddar @emz2092

@mysteriesincorporated @dramallama9 @emxlando @ahnneyong @burkylover

@czennieszn @weekendlusting @charli123456789 @mamako23

@mxdi0 @claudiajacobs

[boogiewoogieweeb]

#he's good at his job! #crozier likes him! crozier chose him! #and any enabling of crozier happens because he lives and works in one of the most strictly hierarchical systems to ever exist #where dissidence can be a hanging offence! #and he's so! fucking! angry! about it #also having to deal with a spirit bear on top of everything #that makes you question the very fabric of the assumptions you once had about the world #also his cabin door is stuck!! #we talk a lot about jopson finally snapping and beginning to bite and kick #i really think he should invite edward to the inevitable breakdown - @maedhrus

listen i don't think edward little was actually a bad first lieutenant. when we see him in the first episode he's calm and confident. he does not say much but he's amiable enough. crozier likes him, and i don't think crozier would like anyone he doesn't think capable in some way. generally he's dependable and knows what he's doing. however unfortunately for edward he has these qualities because he has a major case of eldest daughter syndrome, which means he both wants to please his mum (crozier) and has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his younger siblings (crew), so when they get stuck in the ice and crozier starts going (more) alcoholic, he enables his mum bc he doesn't want to disappoint her even if he doesn't agree with her, and he has to pick up the tasks and care for his siblings she's not doing, but he can't let his siblings know about their mum's situation because they'll get worried and restless. and like a true eldest daughter he has to bear the brunt of mummy's anger for being a disappointment but he also doesn't want to seek refuge with the man she divorced (fitzjames) because that feels like a betrayal. also while this is going on there is a giant bear who hunts his siblings for sport so they're dying left and right and also a changeling master manipulator who's making his siblings mad at their mum and who wants to fuck said mum before eating her like some sort of praying mantis. anyway i think i would start being miserable and anxious too.