#brotp: what the hell

[deepestsharkshark]

The school of good and evil but make it sterek

[ouraniatm]

@crownshattered sent a text: all this shit is new to me. (From Lia!!)

skepticism was a fair response. who would be capable to believe in anything or anyone after the shit lia went through? cora, of course, knew only the surface version of the other's turbulent life. even so, the two bonded over their mutual hatred for STYX ( albeit for different reasons and much more drastic outcomes ) though since the incident which caused idia's overblot, cora couldn't be sure if they were to be called 'friends'. lia was upset, understandably so, of the choice she made to date idia. maybe it was to be expected, yet instead of coldly brushing it off as she usually would, cora felt ... hurt? she couldn't describe it, even if you forced her, but one thing's for sure: something had to be done before someone fell victim, much like this generation had.

you could say cora's morale wasn't the highest, but even she knew better than to keep lia enslaved to a position, even if it's detrimental for STYX. what's the point of results, if many are only going to be harmed? that's exactly why, after many, many talks with idia, did she suggest an option to lia: the choice to leave, once and for all. blankly looking at the taller of two, cora stuffs her hands in pockets and nonchalantly shrugs. ❛ get in line, then. none of us are new to any of these changes. ❜ beginning curtly, she looks back at lia. ❛ what i'm saying is...get used to it whenever you wanna, just know that i'm saying how it is...you've got a choice, now. ❜ all of them will finally be able to have a choice.

midnight by taylor swift ... accepting!

[katrinawritesthings]

Junghee/Taemin; hehe; PG

Me back again with, if you can believe it, teenagers figuring out identity shit together

“I just want to point out the irony,” he says, “of you trying to hide in my closet after you just—” “Shut the fuck up,” Junghee hisses at him. “I also want to point out,” Taemin grins, ignoring her, “how you not only just accidentally outed yourself to me, but I think you also just accidentally admitted that you wanted to steal my girlfriend?”

Taemin doesn't know why, but it's so much easier for him to study when Junghee is chilling in his room with him. She's upside down on his bed, on her tummy, chin propped in her hands as she reads one of his nature magazines, singing under her breath as he sits at his desk next to her. It's the singing, Taemin thinks, that helps him. It's the background noise, and how it’s soft and smooth and soothing but still noticeable enough for him to hear and appreciate. He sure is glad that his parents aren't home to kick them out of his room—because “no girls allowed” or whatever—because just like her being here makes it easier for him to study, being out in the living room somehow makes it ten times harder, and on that end he has no idea why.

He yawns into his shoulder, turns a page in his biology textbook, readjusts his headphones in his ears so he can hear the video game speedrun he has playing on his laptop better in addition to Junghee’s quiet voice. Having a video in the corner of his eye helps him focus too, somehow. He holds the tip of his pencil down lightly on the page, drawing a faint, faint, faint squiggly line as he moves it down as he reads to help mark his place.

“Hey, hey, you, you,” Junghee starts, and Taemin grins into the hand that his chin is propped up on. A classic. “I really like your girlfriend,” Junghee sings next, and Taemin pauses, puzzled. That doesn't sound right. “Yeah, way, yeah, way, I think she's super lovely....Hey, hey, you, you, let me smooch your girlfriend.” Out of the corner of his eye, Taemin sees Junghee flip a page of his magazine, feet kicking lazily in the air. He's about to turn to her and cock a brow and tell her that he's never heard this version of the song before when she continues on.

“Hey, hey, Tae, Tae, I think I might be lesbian, no way, no way, it's totally a secret, hey, hey, Tae, Tae, how the fuck do I tell you....”

And. Oh. That's definitely a version of the song that he's never heard before. He turns around in his rolly chair to face her, but instead of cracking a joke, he says, “Jung—you know I can hear you, right?”

And she looks up, big brown eyes a little wide, mouth a little open, feet stopping their movements to just hang in place in midair behind her.

“But—headphones?” she asks, confused, pointing at his ears. Taemin takes one out of his ear, glances at it, gestures vaguely at his laptop screen.

“Real low,” he says, shrugging. “I like listening to you sing.”

“Oh,” Junghee says, and she smiles a little, for a few seconds, clearly flattered. Then her expression changes to one of absolute horror and her face bypasses pink and goes all the way to a bright, flaming red before she hides it in her hands. “Did you hear—fuck,” she hisses. And before Taemin can even think about how to respond to that in some form of comforting manner, she whines high in her throat and rolls.

She rolls over the bed, off the bed, fumbling with her hands to find the carpet and ease her fall onto it so she can keep whining and rolling uninterrupted across his bedroom floor and to his doorless closet. She rolls in there, then wiggles into the nook of space that's hidden by the wall, clambering on top of his boxes of old junk and trying to pull the whole one pair of fancy dress pants that he has hung up in there in front of herself to hide.

He doesn't know how she expects to hide when she still making upset whining noises, but she's doing it anyway, tucking her feet in so that she's out of sight even if he leans forward in his chair to try to see better. He's not really sure what emotion he’s supposed to be feeling but he knows that what he is feeling is all fondness and amusement. He loves his best friend a lot, especially when she's being cute, especially when she's accidentally made herself vulnerable. 

He doesn't even hesitate before he pushes his chair back and stands up, walks over to his closet, puts a hand on the empty door frame and leans in to peep at her between the pant legs. She peeps back up at him from between her fingers for just a second before whining again and hiding her face completely in her hands. All Taemin can find himself doing is smiling, so enamored in his heart.

“I just want to point out the irony,” he says, “of you trying to hide in my closet after you just—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Junghee hisses at him.

“I also want to point out,” Taemin grins, ignoring her, “how you not only just accidentally outed yourself to me, but I think you also just accidentally admitted that you wanted to steal my girlfriend?”

“GOSH,” Junghe says loudly. She takes her hands away from her face only to hide her face in her knees instead, hands tugging at her hair. “Barely even fucking out to myself and I did this, I don't fucking believe.” she mumbles. Taemin still feels amused and enamored all the way down to his angsty teenage soul, but he also recognizes that Junghee is stressed enough that joking too much more really wouldn't be the most best friend like of moves, so instead, he crouches down and sits himself on the floor outside of his closet. Mirroring her position with his arms around his knees, he smiles comfortingly at her. 

“You know,” he starts, “the way things are going with... between me and Gwiboon... I mean...with me, I guess....” The smile slides off of his face as he realizes where his mouth is taking him. It's taking him down one of those unintended honesty paths, the ones where he doesn't think about what he wants to say before he says it so things just come out of his mouth with no filter. “It might not be that hard for you to steal my girl anyway,” he mumbles. He runs his fingers through his own hair, slightly distressed himself now. Dang it. Talk about barely admitting things to yourself before you just blurt them out to your best friend.

“What?” Junghee asks. When she looks up, she's frowning, eyebrows furrowed. “What's that mean? What's your problem? Are you trying to break up with her? Excuse me? You can't do that, she's—she's so—she's so great, in every way, she really likes you, like a whole lot, you can't break up with her, you can't hurt her, dude, what the fuck.”

She’s so offended, indignant, so protective over someone else's girlfriend that Taemin has to smile, just for a few seconds. Then he remembers why he's been trying to figure out how to break up with Gwiboon and grimaces again, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“You are my best friend and I absolutely forbid you to be a fuckboy,” Junghee snaps. “You cannot break up with her unless you have, like, a good reason. And I'm not just saying that just because I have a giant crush on your girlfriend, I'm saying it because, like, I cannot have a friend that is a fuck—”

“I'm not being a fuckboy,” Taemin says loudly, lifting his head to speak to the ceiling for a moment. He looks back down with his own frown. “I'm just—” he scrunches his face. Well. If he's going down this path, then. He gets to his knees and scrambles his way into his closet as well, perching himself uncomfortably on top of all of the clothes that he threw in the direction of his hamper instead of inside of it.

“I don't. Think. I'm straight. Either,” he says quietly, to his hands, because for some reason it's incredibly hard to look at Junghee’s face while he says it. It's not as hard to say it out loud as he thought it would be, though. That's something positive, he guesses.

“Oh,” says Junghee. Taemin nods vaguely. That's about how he feels about it too. Mildly surprised and kind of confused.

“I don't know if I'm, like, gay, or poly, some form of aro or ace, or anything, but.” And that part was easy to say out loud, was easy to say to himself, because that part was just. Regular old queer confusion, queer discovery. But it's this next part that makes him stop, and swallow, and lick his lips, and feel like there's something physically blocking him from speaking, physically holding his vocal cords in place so he can't make noise. It's this next part that's made him feel guilty all of these months and what's made it so hard for him to even admit to himself that he wants—or needs—to break up with the girl that's made him feel so happy for so long.

“I think I just...don't like...girls,” he says. And then he puts his face back into his hands, because apart from being a real hard and real heavy to say out loud, when he hears that come out of his own mouth and his own voice it just sounds embarrassing. Like he's a five year old whining about cooties or whatever. But it's true. He gets all fluttery and blushy and mildly horny around anyone else that's his type except. Girls. Except. Gwiboon. Except. His literal girlfriend that he thought he was in love with this whole time, until he realized that he wasn't.

Still speaking into his hands, he continues, “I thought I liked them, I thought I liked her, I thought I was feeling all of those romantic feelings and whatnot for her, but then a while ago I had a crush on this one dude in my math class and it felt...super different? And super more intense? And then I thought about it more and I felt that way about like almost every other gender except all of the lady ones? And I think. This whole time I've just been feeling. Platonic closeness with Gwiboon but. I thought it was love because. I thought I was straight.”

“And it’s like—I like Gwi, like, I love her, but—not romantically? She's one of my best friends and I love her but I'm not—in love with her? And, like, it's not bad that I'm apparently not into ladies, like, that's valid, but like—I'm already dating her? And like?” he groans and shakes his head, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “How the fuck am I supposed to tell her all of this without making it sound like. Like it's her fault, or that I'm making it up as an excuse to dump her, or that I've been lying to her this whole time, or—? Like, it's been almost a year? That's kind of fucked up? isn't it?”

“Or what if I do tell her all of this, but then, she's a homophobe about it? What if she thinks she turned me gay and gets all offended? What if she's an exclusionist? What if she's just an asshole about it? She's my friend and I like her and I don't want her to be a queerphobe so I don't want to tell her? I don't want to hurt her and I don't want her to hurt me? But the longer I drag this out the worse it'll be in the end, but? I'm just scared? I guess? And I don't know what to do? I'm baby,” he finishes in a tiny, tiny, sad voice. He's baby and it's hard.

“Holy shit dude.”

“Wuh?” Taemin blinks and moves his hands from his face, almost startled to see Junghee sitting across from him. He got so wrapped up in all of the words that were coming out of his mouth that he almost forgot that she was there. He feels pink creeping into his cheeks for forgetting, which is embarrassing, which only makes him blush more, which then makes him grumpy. He scrunches his face and hides his cheeks only in his hands. Junghee, on the other hand, definitely isn't blushing anymore; she's smirking, chin propped up in one hand and eyebrows raised.

“I'm over here feeling guilty because maybe I want to kiss your girlfriend and then you just show up and have a whole ass coercive heteronormativity existential identity crisis out of nowhere,” she teases. Taemin scrunches his face more, partly because he didn't understand half of those words, but mostly because he can tell that she's making fun of him. 

“I had that crisis because I was trying to comfort you, you can't make fun of me about it,” he snaps. Junghee just laughs, soft, breathy chuckles she turns into her palm. Taemin rolls his eyes. It's better than having a panic attack in his closet, he guesses. 

When she finishes laughing, she runs her fingers through her hair and sighs heavily before resting her cheek on her hand so it smushes up and saying tiredly, “Can't believe you stole my gay thunder and totally upstaged my coming out but also completely relieved me of all of my guilt and told me it's okay to start flirting with your girlfriend.”

“Okay, well,” Taemin says, a laugh already traveling from his chest and out of his mouth as he points at Junghee. His closet is so small that his finger hovers in front of her face and she bites playfully at it, teeth clicking just in front of it before he even snatches it away. “Not what I said,” he says sternly. Junghee’s smile grows mischievously.

“Can't believe you just gave me permission to steal your girl right out from under you,” she says, and then, before Taemin can whine at her, shakes her head. “Really, though, that was a lot of heavy shit that you said and whenever you feel ready to tell her, I'll go with you.” she smiles comfortingly, and then, when Taemin raises his brows incredulously, shakes her head a little sheepishly. “To help,” she says insistently. “Really. And I'll only start flirting with her after like, a month, minimum. I promise.”

“Wow, a whole month,” Taemin drawls, but he's grinning too. A whole month actually is kind of a lot for Junghee’s aries ass. “What if she's a queerphobe?” he adds. Junghee shrugs.

“Then you can get a Grindr and I can get a Her and we'll roast each other's dating prospects together,” she says. And that has Taemin actually laughing, loudly, snorting and coughing into his hands from the suddenness of it as Junghee looks immensely proud of herself. That does sound fun, he has to admit.

[derschwarzeengel]

tag drop ) Relationships

in my sleep your song has spun my dreams ( Sons of the Dark. )

BrOTP: you could use a buddy ( Damon & Tyler. )

OTP: the Wolf and the Wildcat ( Damon x Romana. )

OTP: Sweeter than heaven and hotter than hell ( Damon x Melinda. )

he's fallen far from grace ( Damon x Anja. )

my brother's a vampire ( Christian Wolf. )

she has come from the shadows of the dream world ( Morrigan Wolf. )

what is this lunacy you spread? ( Anja Wolf. )

she's in love with the devil ( Romana Harris. )

[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

[fumifooms]

Hi hi! I'm sure you have loads of asks to get through. But if you may, we talk a lot about Chilchuck and Marcille (as we should 'cause they're great!), but since you've mentioned that Laios is your fave char, I would love to hear if you have any takes on Laios and Izutsumi's dynamic. I feel sometimes like she doesn't really like him...? It's funny but I also feel bad for him sometimes. ^^;;

You can’t ask me this and expect me to not drop everything else I’m doing. Little did you know they are my brotp. They are so special. Izutsumi gets along more with literally everyone in the party, but their relationship was so narratively important. They’re a really underrated and overlooked dynamic! I’ve had them as a topic at the back of my mind for a while, seeing someone else interested was all the push I needed gdbdg. This isn’t super long though, their issues with each other and lil arc is surprisingly brief and easy to summarize.

Laios & Izutsumi : what’s their deal with each other

For me one foundational train of thought for Izutsumi & Laios is, well. I read this awesome smart post deconstructing how Izutsumi’s beef with Laios is because she only just broke free and wants freedom without having someone ordering her around, and that’s sort of her whole character arc, isn’t it?

Isn’t Izutsumi’s picky eating a reflection of just that? In a life where she was a slave, she could at least control what she chose to eat and not eat. But then you might wonder, why did the narrative want her to grow out of that? Simply put, Izutsumi has a contrarian streak, one that is often extremely counterproductive. We saw that especially near the beginning, with how hard it was to make her work with them as a team. The issue is that now that she is free, she needs to not block out others by habit, to not lash out and refuse the healthy things in life, the people who want good for her. And that’s something that’s addressed in the succubus chapter as well as the fight against the ice golem, that she shouldn’t insist that she can do everything alone and fight against any team effort.

I love how onesided the Laios izutsumi dynamic is. He stays away from her generally, like doesn’t interact much, but he wants the cat pats… Which Izu made clear she did NOT want. And Chil is the only one in the party to not really see her as a cat for most of the story really, as shown in the relationship chart. He’s well meaning and wants the best for her, but he crowds her and doesn’t understand her at all. But he reallyyy wants to get along with her.

On the other hand, Izutsumi’s very existence and identity gave Laios an immense amount of hope that Falin could be brought back and still be herself and live well, even if she still had part of a dragon’s soul in her. I think that’s a lovely way to contrast the way that Izutsumi hates herself as a beastkin and her body, while Laios is like "Thank you, your existence as you are is the answer to all my worries" AND he super likes monster bodies and beastkins so it’s like. I think part of her hostility to him, besides feeling like he doesn’t understand her perspective and is maybe dismissive of what his party members want (which would remind her of Maizuru to some degree probably), is that he says all these good things about her being a beastkin, and it’s so jarring with her own version of herself that it raises her hackles and she reacts negatively, especially with how flippant and eager he is about it. But yes like, this is their first meeting!! Beyond his interest in her as a beastkin because of his monster hobby, Laios is just so very grateful for her and chooses to put his trust in her.

That’s interesting too, how one of the first things she asks about upon meeting them is why the hell they would want to rescue Falin even if she were to stay as a chimera-beastkin and still have the dragon soul in her. It’s her asking "Who would want to stick with a beastkin?" thinking that there’s something fundamentally wrong with having two souls and it making you unlovable. And their differing views on monsters do make them clash

But ultimately he chills out about her, which ironically enough shows in the way that they don’t interact much- He gives her space, and accepts that the beastkin may not like him. BUT at the end of the day they have an incredible bond of trust- Laios asks Izutsumi to kill him if something goes wrong with the Winged Lion. Not only is that sort of an intimate request and act, but that means that he leaves it up to Izutsumi’s judgement as well to know if it went wrong and when to act. He doesn’t only trust her skills but also her decision making, despite how tough they’ve been on each other in the past. He’s giving her the ultimate role, the go ahead to make or break their plan and be the difference between saving or destroying the world. And the last tidbit of info we get on their relationship in canon is when she hides behind him because she’s shy- Certified having befriended the cat moment. She trusts him and sees him as a safe person! And by saying that she’s shy, he’s showing that he did end up understanding her and how she is.

No matter the rocky parts of their relationship, they still have a strong foundation to it and were great allies and road companions, one of the few persons that had each other’s back when it mattered the most, both for the world and for their personal arcs. And post-canon, well…

He’s accepted that she needs space and whatnot, and meanwhile she’s accepted his interest in monsters and taken it in stride 😌 They end up having this familiarity with each other and even if there’s still a bunch of emotional distance imo and they never really got into the nitty gritty with each other not like her with Chilchuck or even Marcille, they see each other. They nod in greeting and respect each other from afar……. But also still tease and chat familiarly up close and if she offers him the opportunity for cuddles he will take it. You know, if it’s not her just falling onto him because she’s sleeping she has no respect.

Siblings behavior… If you know my take on the general party dynamics, I love thinking of Laios & Izu’s dynamic as him being an older brother figure where they have a love-hate relationship. Siblings rivalry. I have a bunch of funny little doodles I’ve wanted to make with them for months, the prompts for which are in the screenshot put below. But yeah like you know, they’re protective of each other but in that very critical way as well, truly forged by being stuck with each other for a while and having to come to understand and accept how the other is. Strife with conflict, but ultimately sticking with each other through thick and thin… Siblings siblings SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS. Sigh I just want them to cuddle on a couch and she purrs while simultaneously being snide and mean to him, they are so… Izutsumi is the character ever

Oh, which! While I’m here, I always recommend this fanfic about the two of them interacting and Laios treating her like a cat, it’s just fun and lighthearted. They’re suuuuch an underrated duo

If I find more Laios & Izu moments I think are worth sharing I’ll just add it onto this I think. We shouldn’t be too hard on him he was raised by dogs so cats are a whole other language to him but also, so wild to me that he never tried to engage with her on a cat level properly like where is the hissing at the catgirl and the cat taming moments, he sucks at socializing with cats smh smh.

I want to do an analysis of queerness in Dungeon Meshi with relationships and social norms and stuff and Izutsumi’s arc is gonna be central to that too. Her relationship with EVERYONE is SOOO GOOD AND IMPORTANT AND COMPELLING. But I guess this is where I leave it off for now, I hope I’m not forgetting any point I wanted to make hmmm

[highlordofkrypton]

TALK TO ME ABOUT CASSIAN X TAMLIN BROTP PLEASE?

I WAS IN BED WHEN YOU SENT ME THIS I HAD TO WAIT UNTIL I COULD GET TO A COMPUTER AHHHHH I love talking about this himbroship I'm buzzing where do I even start omg omg

This is 10000000% fanon, but it's good, happy, soft and silly!

Cassian and Tamlin met during the First Hybern War; Rhysand was like 'hey ya'll meet my new friend' and like any normal person Cassian was like OH YEAH, TAMLIN'S NOSE MEET MY FOREHEAD

They ended up wrestling bc the broness called to one another, so obviously they had to test each other

It's now a normal greeting for them for Cassian to barrel into Tamlin and tussle with him; Tamlin loves it because it's the relationship he never had with his brothers

Cassian is THE shorter older brother, he's at least 30 years older than Tamlin, but Tamlin is 6'5"+ and Cassian is built like a BAKED BEAN

Tamlin is definitely the more introverted one because he's insecure, but Cassian will double down on ANYTHING Tamlin says or wants. OH UR VEGETARIAN BRO??? BEANS ARE THE SHIT AND GRASS TOO

Cassian doesn't know what exactly vegetarians eat except grass and beans, he tried once and cried he did not like whatever the hell a 'bean patty' is

Having a friend outside of the Night Court is a really fascinating experience to Cassian because even though they both had different upbringings, they have similar... vibes? Tamlin is quiet and curious, Cassian and loud and will put his hands/mouth on anything to figure out what the hell this new thing is. They both had 2 brothers with a MEH dad, warrior training, they punch first and ask questions later, it's just really cool to connect with someone on that level

It's also nice for Cassian to be able to chill w/ someone else and get an outside POV when he's going through something w/ his brothers

Cassian 10000% percent vibes with Tamlin's let's just fuck off and live in nature, it's very peaceful

Tamlin's great great great great great grandmother is a willow tree who has the hots for Cassian, lots of shh shhh and stroking his face with her vines when he's being so dumb

Cassian is seemingly more hot-headed than Tamlin, but Tamlin is the one with rage issues; it actually helps Tamlin a lot to have a friend who will BLURT OUT the first thing that comes to mind especially when confronted with something shitty like 'YO DUDE THAT'S A FUCKED UP THING TO SAY' and 'OK U WANNA GO?? MET ME IN THE PRYTHIAN PARKING LOT 1V1 ME'

Cassian's bluntness also helps drag Tamlin out of depressive slumps. Trauma can really re-wire someone's brain and make you act out, but Cassian also turns his loud honesty on Tamlin like 'FIRST DON'T TALK ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND LIKE THAT' and 'YOU'RE BEING A DICK is this how you feel or is this a reaction my broski' -- his heavy hand is an excellent contrast to Tamlin's other best friend LUCIEN

The humour shared between Tamlin and Cassian makes zero sense to anyone. At all. They will die laughing at a bag of 70% cacao and Cassian will over the 'o' and they've been laughing at 'caca' for the last 10 minutes. It's very freeing for them.

Tamlin loves fruit, Cassian general does not eat fruit or vegetables. Tamlin introduced Cassian to a giant fruit bat and lied to say 'he's very disappointed u don't eat ur greens' and CASSIAN TOOK THAT PERSONALLY??? he eats mangoes now and other tropical fruits to honour his batcestors bat-ancestors???

Yes, they can have an entire conversation in 'bruh's

IF we transpose this friendship that started in the canon 'Tamlin trained with the Illyrians in the war' to TODAY, Cassian never recovered from the falling out between Rhysand and Tamlin. It's really difficult for him to reconcile what happened to HIS family with his friend he knew, loved and trusted. When Rhysand vanished, his first instinct would have been to go see Tamlin for help (but there's a lot of guilt for not checking on him either since Cassian knew Tamlin didn't have.... a support system like him).

In Modern AU, Cassian and Tamlin have DEFINITELY those ugly shirts wit each other's face on them and their names in ✨GLITTER✨

Fuck it, Cassian gets really into shirt printing and just prints shirts for them for every occasion, they're ugly on purpose -- he also has swim shorts that are just Tamlin's face going 8D all over them

Cassian started the 'BIG STRETCHY' trend whenever Tamlin stretches and it's law EVERYONE DOES IT NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE

Anyway, I love them a lot and ummmm I absolutely not normal about them I will DIE on their bestie hill

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I HOPE U LIKED READING IT AS MUCH AS I LIKED RAMBLING ABOUT IT

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

medic for the ask game? Alternatively, the eyelanded

I CANNOT answer all these damn questions about a talking sword you're getting Medic

favorite thing about them He's also just HILARIOUS like he's really really really funny and fun to watch and think about. His voice performance is so good he has so many top-tier funny moments. Also titties

least favorite thing about them Absolute fucking nightmare to play, which makes every single Medic main, yes, even you, an absolutely insufferable person

favorite line Where do I even fucking start with this guy. Who's ready to be a mother?

brOTP Now I don't think they would "hang out" but I think Medic would be like the Joker for the Administrator. Like Wheatley and Glados if Wheatley were smarter and also German instead of British. He would love pissing her off so much and that's funny. I also think he's great at hanging out with the whole team as a group, it balances out his energy a bit more and he's not as. yknow. Medic. as he can be one-on-one

OTP Sniper fucked that old man

nOTP Mediscout is boringgggg I'm so sorry it's BORING. There are ways to do it that I think can be fun but mostly it's just boring. I'm also finding engiemedic more and more boring the more time I spend here but you know. It's whatever

random headcanon Medic cannot read. More specifically, he's probably dyslexic, and has trouble with reading in any language. Also I generally write him as vaguely trilingual (German, Yiddish, and English) so that was probably a struggle for him, and I think he confuses the vocabulary and grammar of all three languages together a lot. But he's good at math

unpopular opinion Medic actually likes people. He's actually friends with the people on his team and they like him back. He's "weird" for sure, and he's definitely a sadist, but it's tf2 so that doesn't really matter and he's mostly just an Eccentric Scientist everyone finds weirdly charming in his own little way. The implications are astounding

song i associate with them Bubblegum Bitch dadada dadada

favorite picture of them

This one is just really top tier. I don't love this comic's art style and it's not my favorite way he's ever been drawn but it's just so fucking funny. He's even kinda doing the nerd finger point in this one

[ID: A Cold Day in Hell comic screenshot of Medic running through a door, a stack of papers in his arms, saying "Wait! Are we leaving? What about the baboon uteruses?" End ID]

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Sir Pentious perhaps?

Certainly, my dear!

Send me a character and I’ll list:

Favourite thing about them: His dorkiness! I like how he starts out trying to be intimidating so he'll be thought of as a formidable foe, and then learns to embrace his naturally dorky self and be a better person. Maybe there's a message there about toxic masculinity? Or maybe I'm reading too much into it.

Least favourite thing about them: That so-called 'joke' in Episode 6. You know the one. I mean, you can't have a whole episode taking sexual assault seriously when it happens to Angel Dust and then turn it into a joke when it happens to Sir Pentious. I'd have preferred it if, instead of Pen being dragged into the sex room, Valentino overheard his "sex with everybody" line and started offering him a job at the porn studio and making him flustered, and that was what motivated Angel to stand up for his friends.

Favourite line: "The only cool thing here is to say 'No' to drugs! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!"

brOTP: I like the enemies-to-friends thing he had going on with Angel Dust! My favourite moment is in Episode 5, when Pen is trying to shield his cookies for Lucifer from Angel's grabby hands, and then he has to stand up straight to salute Lucifer with a quick, "Your majesty!" before he goes back to shielding the cookies, but it's too late because Angel's taken one, but Angel doesn't make a big deal of it, he just says, "Heya, short king," to Lucifer as if there's nothing out of the ordinary going on. They're like brothers! Pen is the responsible one and Angel is the naughty one, but at the end of the day, they've got each other's back. It's fun to watch!

Also, now that Sir Pentious is in Heaven, I love the thought of Emily becoming his new best friend! She could show him how Heaven works, and he could teach her what he knows about Hell, and together they could try to find a way to let Charlie know that redemption actually works.

Plus, there's the angst potential of Sir Pentious interacting with Molly - he knows who Angel Dust is, and she knows who Anthony is, but they don't know they're talking about the same person... I'd love to see a Pen/Emily/Molly trio going on escapades in Season 2!

OTP: CherriSnake! I wasn't sure about the ship at first, but it's grown on me. It's a neat example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, where Sir Pentious' admiration for Cherri as a worthy opponent turns into something more romantic. And they could have bonded over being inventors - Pen with his gadgets and Cherri with her "brilliant explosive contraptions". Too bad he only confessed his love a few seconds before his heroic sacrifice...

I think I like this ship for its potential. What will Cherri do now that Pen is gone? Will she find out he's in Heaven? Will that motivate her to stay at the Hazbin Hotel, to get redeemed herself and be reunited with him? It's rife with story possibilities!

nOTP: Sir Pentious and Vox (StaticSnake?). Mainly because Vox told Pen to kill himself in Episode 2. That was unacceptable.

Random headcanon: Sir Pentious has a son! Remember that moment in the pilot when Angel said, "Harder, Daddy!" and Pen replied, "Son?!" I think Pen did actually father a child when he was alive, and he'd been scouring Hell trying to find him again. (And for a moment there, he thought Angel was declaring that he was his son.) Pen never found his son in Hell, but now he's in Heaven, maybe he'll have better luck...

Unpopular opinion: I actually quite like Sir Pentious' singing voice! It's nowhere near as bad as people make it out to be. And I much prefer it when characters' singing voices match their speaking voices, instead of being wildly different. (Looking at you, Vaggie.)

Song I associate with them: @hazbinned made a video of Pen being kept awake at night by Angel blasting out "Made You Look" by Meghan Trainor, so now I associate that song with Sir Pentious! LOL!

Favourite picture of them:

[azureintrigue]

SEND YOU A CHARACTER? KUNG LAO RIGHT NOW! ALL 12 OF THEM! (Just mk11 i DOJT know)

RAAAGH ANYTHING FOR U POOKIE !!!!

Sexuality Headcanon: Bisexual!! God people are hot. I think he found out early on he was bi (like 15-16) and was a little jarred about it, at first, simply because he grew up with the Wu Shi and had no idea he could even be bisexual, but it didn't haunt him. He just sort of went with the flow. It just meant if a guy was cute enough, he'd flirt with him too. Gender Headcanon: I am trans, therefore, I force my trans agenda on EVERYONE. Smacks him with He/They pronouns and dubs him trans. He's trans. Thank you for coming to my ted talk. A ship I have with said character: OTHER THAN OUR LOVELY LOVELY LAOHAN.... I like Lao with Erron Black...Their interactions spark much chemistry and HE'D ALSO DO SOMETHING DUMB AND END UP GETTING INVOLVED. Cowboy Hat x Razor Hat. Also there's again, that aspect of righteousness with someone who...maybe does not have the greatest of morals. A BROTP I have with said character: GOES WITHOUT SAYING, LIU KANG. They're besties in every timeline. Other than that, his interactions with Nightwolf are !!! Interesting. He seems less like someone who looks down on Kung Lao, like some other characters, and more of a concerned figure. I could see them getting along. Nightwolf's down-to-earth humility and dry remarks + Lao's Cockiness and sarcasm remind me a bit of MK1's Raiden and Lao. A NOTP I have with said character: I heard Lao and Liu were cousins??? Not sure if that's true, but also, they seem like besties to me. I don't see the chemistry, personally. That, and also. People ship him with Jade?? I personally like Jade and Kotal so I'm not too big a fan on that one. A random headcanon: Messy as hell. But not as in, like, his room or anything, that remains decently neat, just his way of going about things. The type of guy to sleep almost late every morning and wake up in a hurry, he's still slipping his pants and shoes on as he steps out of his bedroom. The type of guy to multitask and yes, it works, but it makes other people nervous because from an outside perspective it looks like he's precariously juggling a bunch of tasks. He's confident in himself, and what he's doing though. And most times, things blow over well. In fact, most of the time, things only end in disaster when he's being nagged or distracted. Best to let Lao do what Lao does: Lock in and run around for three hours doing a bunch of tasks because he procrastinated for too long. General Opinion over said character:

I relate to him a lot, actually. His bravado and confidence that often get criticized as being "too much" his desire to be more than someone's second choice, more than just "Liu Kang's best friend", and his overall vibe are something I point at the screen and go ME!! ME FR!! At. But also apparently, he's lazy as hell and like. Me too for fucking real. I'm a class-S procrastinator it's actually a problem. Anyway. He's like my third-favorite MK character. Raiden and Kotal unfortunately take up first and second (that order may change, it always ends up doing so in like a week). I RELATE AND HE MAKES ME LAUGH AND HE'S MY MAIN IN MK.

[positivelybeastly]

X-Men #1

So. The big day!

Let's go.

Absolutely adore that it takes Hank the space of one panel to get Chief Robbins to go from shouting in surprise to smiling at him. Hank is honestly just effortlessly charming, and it really shows here.

This entire first issue is very Morrison in terms of continuity, with what I'm pretty sure is even a direct callback to New X-Men #115.

Feral bash brother and sister Magik and Juggernaut will never not make me smile. I'm genuinely so here for them to be a chaotic gremlin BrOTP in this series.

So jazzed for Idie to get some spotlight again. Outside of WatXM and her role in the Krakoan Exiles, she really hasn't gotten a lot of love, and I very much enjoyed her turn as the Storm of the team, deploying ice cover for the combat landing.

Glob Herman, you will always be iconic. Also, Hank, you're enjoying yourself entirely too much.

"B-But my husband lost his job at the Lockheed Martin factory where they make the bombs that cut children into a billion pieces! Won't you please think of our jerbs?!"

No.

Jesus Christ. Literally taking it out of him in chunks. Last time I saw Logan fucked up this badly by someone with a knife, it was in X-Force, and it was - oh. Oh yeah. Oops.

Well, anyway!

Always here for telepathic relay bullshit. There's something really just delightful about the sentence 'Dumping them into the common knowledge pool.' It's just very Morrison.

John Sublime and the U-Men . . .

I love supportive, nurturing Scott. Legitimately one of the best hats that Scott gets to wear. Also, rebound shots are always fucking cool.

That refraction is cool shit. There's just a lot of really neat visual flair going on in the combat, and it shows rather than tells us that Scott really is just as good as Hank hypes him up to be.

Cute.

One: who the hell put that needlework up on the wall? Because that's brilliant. I desperately want to see a "Bless this Mess," or a "Live, Laugh, Love," at some point.

Two: Hank bakes! He bakes Jewish shortbread! I wonder if MacKay knows that Hank speaks fluent Yiddish and decided to expand that to a wider interest in Jewish culture and food? Fucking cool shit.

OIHEPOAIGHSDAP[OUIHGOUHG

ADE[OIGHJEADPOUIGHSGOIUH

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS.

This is so good.

That one-two punch of Hank's burning, bristling fury at his previous self for denying himself the pleasure of Krakoa as well as denying him his memories of it, and the meaningful nod in the direction of X-Force, is so fucking good.

This is exactly how I figured Hank would react, and, like, I'm not gonna go ahead and say Jed MacKay is an amazing writer just because he writes Hank like I do, but fuck, it sure as hell makes me happy!

I also really like Stegman's art here because it evokes a simple fact of Hank's appearance - he's meant to be slightly uncanny and scary and able to switch from cuddly teddy bear to beast on a dime. The Morrison is strong here, the pleasant, bubbling layer of frothy cultured genius hiding a whirlpool of complicated emotions and self-hatred, and I couldn't be more enthralled.

I can't believe I'm actually getting acknowledgement of the fact that the rest of X-Force was just as complicit in what Beast did as he was, and that they do not, in fact, get a free fucking pass for being shitheads who did morally bankrupt things on a whim.

Giggling. Squealing. Kicking my feet.

Hims.

Hank is so deeply tired of Max's shit, I love it. "This is the fourth time this week you've pulled the intimidating hover chair flex on a passing human, Max, are you going to get tired of it eventually?"

Hank is rolling his eyes at this. God, what a good voice for Magneto here, honestly, and a decent continuation of the whole Ewing retcon about how 60s Magneto's characterisation fits into the wider whole.

Hank is the open hand. Scott is the fist. Max is the sleeping dragon. God, what a fucking good trinity, I adore it.

"Henry has a soft touch. He always has."

I've run out of image space, but Magneto's, "Tell me he will die on a mission soon," in response to Quentin is hilarious.

Genuinely adore the quiet moment on the roof between Hank and Scott. It's so nice to see these two as friends again, like it all never changed. I'm deeply curious to see if the knowledge of X-Force and everything that happened will change how the rest of the team views Hank, or if Hank's the only one who holds that against himself, but regardless, it's nice to see these two just kicking it with some beers.

Love the power move of leaving the Sentinel looming, midway through powering up its laser, over the town for a bit. "Don't forget, you owe us, we don't owe you."

That teaser is nice and ominous, even if it doesn't mean a ton just yet.

Overall, really good #1! I'm intensely excited to see where the rest of the run takes us, even if we do have to wait until August to see the next part.

Now, to go make caps . . .

[heroictoonz]

king I've been putting off a rewatch of s15-17 for ages do u think its worth it

My instinct is so say no save yourself but like jokes aside I think that’s up to you like, I always said that they gave the RvBs a “bad ending” and that they ruined Tucker’s character post Chorus however, that was back when season 16 was literally first coming out

Flash back here but so when s16 was coming out I was just getting more and more upset with the writing of the show especially and honestly almost specifically Tucker. Somewhere near the end of s16 I stopped watching (didn’t even finish the season) and then after a bit I heard that the next season was gonna revolve around whole new characters

Now this, I only recently learned was weird miscommunication. See I’m trash ass shit at keeping up with news of shit even shit that I like so for the longest time I thought the story of this group I’ve been following since I was a teenager ended at s16 which KILLED me inside so I swore off the rest of the show and vowed to never watch it. Instead I mostly just rewatched Chorus or s1-s13 if I wanted to rewatch the “whole” show. Basically just watching till the end of Chorus and stopping. Every time I tried to go rewatch s15 to mmmaybe finish the show I kept remember how bad things got and kept running away

I’m gonna give some vague spoilers from here on out but it’s cause I do genuinely wanna talk about how I feel having literally only a few minutes ago finished s16 and s17 for the first time

I decided to finish RvB LITERALLY last night like no joke and it’s cause I saw spoilers out of context for s19 and I was like fuck it I need to see what the hell that is show is over anyways might as well finish it. So I am doing that now

I rewatched/finished s16 and fucking hated it. The good parts were Wash being cute and silly and my favorite guy ever of all time and forever. There’s also Grif and this character named Huggins they’re like on god one of my new brotps of all time damn RvB writes some good ass season specific supporting cast cause holy shit man. Also! I liked that Kai was in it! I enjoy Kai so so so so so much! I’ve always wanted more of her in the show! UNFORTUNATELY!

Tucker is so hard to watch. It’s so honest to god painful to watch. Maybe that’s what they were going for I don’t know. But, having now seen season 17 I get what they were TRYING to do I just don’t fully like how they did it.

In s17 Tucker admits to himself that the reason why in s16 he was acting so weird and gross and toxic masculinity “I have to have the biggest and most talented dong in the room at all times or I’ll kms” character ever is cause he was trying to be a leader

It’s sounds stupid and personally I think it IS stupid but now that I know what they were TRYING to write it makes these post Chorus seasons more bearable.

Basically, Tucker spent all that time in Chorus forced to be a leader. Once he finally got comfortable in the position of one Chorus no longer needed them. He wanted to keep being a leader keep feeling like a leader and it went to his head. He tried acting cool and tough and macho cause that’s what he thought a leader was and he says this! Out loud he admits all this to himself in s17! And honestly? That’s SUCH a good fucking concept it’s super fucking interesting and I really dig it plus with Tucker FAILING at being the leader it gave Donut well deserved character growth. I’ve always hated how sidelined Donut got compared to the others cause I’ve always liked him but s17 is definitely Donut’s season and to see him finally get screen time and respect and also have genuine moments of connection with the others was honestly really fucking awesome

So, do I like s16? God no. Do I recommend it watching it? Hard to say. You have to watch it if you wanna finish the show. Is finishing the show worth it? Honestly I dunno yet I haven’t seen 18 or 19 so it’s to be seen rn. But s17 where not perfect was definitely better than 16 and gave better insight on what they were trying to do. I don’t like the execution I don’t think it was as done very well but I like the ideas I like what they were attempting

S15 I admittedly do not fucking remember at all cause again it’s not a season I’ve rewatched more than maybe twice cause I kept stopping cause I just did not wanna deal with what I knew was coming. And I know me I know myself I know if I tried rewatching the show from the start or even s15 in an attempt to finish it I’d ever fucking do it so instead I just started from s16 and went forward

I don’t remember out right hating s15 but similar to the above I think there were good ideas and not all of them were perfectly done in writing. Also there’s this like really cool interesting thing that is about Tucker that then ends up being a stupid child support payment joke and that sucks so much it makes me so burningly livid I don’t even have a joke here it just makes me mad

But! It brings in the concept of other reds and blues other soldiers that were left in the rubbles of project freelancer which is super interesting again I think they coulda done more with specific parts of it and the “Tucker doesn’t pay child support for the buncha kids he fucked into existence” joke sucks especially when they CONSTANTLY SHOW HIM AS A VERY DOTING AND LOVING FATHER it’s fine I’m not mad I’m not bitter I promise

But uh yeah honestly if you like the show a lot I say watch it even if it sucks. Some of my biggest special interests are GARBAGE shows with writing so bad it makes me wanna commit actual arson. But, I love the characters I love the settings and I love what could have been maybe that’s why I always keep sticking around in stuff like this lol even if it sucks I like to imagine what could make it better cause I love it! And if I didn’t love it I wouldn’t care to put as much energy into wanting it to be better as I do! That’s the same with RvB! I wish it was better I wish SSOOOO BADLY that it was better but it’s cause I love it so fucking much not out of any sort of hate if that makes sense?

Idk tldr it’s up to you and you might suffer a bit but if you love the show I say go for it

Aaaand it’s 2am and I read ur ask wrong I thought that said “watch” not “rewatch” but? Points still stand I’m the kinda person that will rewatch even the seasons I hate to remember why I like the ones I love (I’m looking at you Ninjago season 3 you hot fucking garbage that I’ve sadly seen more times than I would like)

[barabaitcharactergenerator]

scotty-scott of howl fame

ah yes, my icon. my muse. my silly rabbit.

favorite thing about them - his tits on a meta level, i think what i appreciate most about scott is that it feels as though he was bio-engineered in a lab to be specifically catered to me. hairy, bearded, muscular, jockish, funny, kind, endlessly optimistic, stupid as hell, AND has canonically committed multiple atrocities as a big, sexy werewolf? be still, my beating heart. i feel like the monster prom creators stalked my social media circa 2017-2018 and collectively agreed that they were gonna make a dating sim ro that would make this one specific gayboy so, SO happy.

least favorite thing about them - also on a meta level. look. im not a nasty little hater (except when i am), but i have to admit that the writers are CONSTANTLY shoving him to the side in favor of the rest of the cast. even in his own game, Monster Roadtrip, a majority of the events tend to lean on polly being the center-focus with scott acting as her sidekick. this was esp apparent in the End of the Road ending where Polly was basically the main character while Scott was also There (sort of). ill admit i partially understand this since polly is generally a more active character while scott is more reactive, but still, id love to see my boy get his kudos

favorite line - there's so many good ones but im just gonna with one based on a recent screenshot i took: "I really like macaroni, but I'm not allowed to boil water by myself, so I just eat the noodles raw."

brOTP - DA PRANK MASTERZ BABEY!!! Scott is my fav MP character and Polly is my second fav, so you it's only natural that I'd be obsessed with their dynamic. canonically bimbo and himbo besties.

OTP - Scott howl x ME!! i like him and brian a lot, i think they're cute. im a sucker for jock x jock and golden retriever x constantly tired so the two of them manage to hit a sweet spot for me.

nOTP - the game keeps trying to push scott x vicky or scott x amira and like, im sorry, but trying to get me to ship Bara Icon Scott Howl with women? im calling homophobia. besides im more of a vicky x vera and amira x damien guy so on all fronts those ships just dont really appeal to me

random headcanon - for reasons i cant disclose this has been canonically refuted but i always pictured scott's grandma as one of those very classic horror movie werewolves- all fangs, all carnage, very little sexy (unless you're into that sort of thing, in which case, hey. you do you). she used to be the alpha of the pack back in her day and was an absolute menace to monster society, until she got a little older and settled down. still, she secretly craves the old days when monsters could be monsters, and keeps trying to convince scott to embrace his more animalistic side, even though he keeps telling her that murder isnt actually really mean and you probably shouldn't do it.

unpopular opinion - the monster prom fandom doesnt really have that much discourse so i dont know whats an unpopular opinion vs what isnt. uuuh i think scott should have won that popularity poll back when monster prom was still getting updates and gotten the new secret ending instead of damien's "punch the sun" ending

song i associate with them - this was on a scott howl playlist and i like it so uh. through and through by khai dreams

favorite picture of them - obv my pfp pic is one of my favs but here are a collection of Certified Scott Images

and some fav outfits:

[nepenthean-sleep]

Hey hey! For the character meme Gideon!

hello thanks for the ask :)

favorite thing about them i love how she speaks. someone said once that everything she says is like the wrong option in a video game dialogue choice list. all of tamsyn's characters have incredible dialogue but gideon is so goddamn funny especially. like it wraps around from being cringe to being funny again. her narration is excellent.

least favorite thing about them i'm gonna say what i said for harrow, everything about her makes sense for her character and her role in the story.

favorite line given the first answer here you can imagine this is extremely difficult for me. however. i'm going to go with a decidedly unfunny one from chapter 25 of ntn because it makes me feel insane.

Nona had never seen anyone so sad in her whole short life. It made her nearly afraid to die. “Nobody locks me up anywhere,” said Kiriona.

she says!!! while locked in her corpse by her dad!! after being locked in harrow's brain for a year by harrow!! after being locked in drearburh for 18 years by the ninth!! ohhhhhhh my god

brOTP sorry i'm going with gideon and ianthe because they hate each other and i just find that endlessly amusing

OTP griddlehark sweep

nOTP don't really have one, just don't like when she's shipped with men

random headcanon after she goes to canaan house she starts getting freckles because it's her first time in sunlight

unpopular opinion idk i don't really see people talking about this much but like she's an asshole. she has a mean-spirited streak. and like yeah i guess if your opponent in the cartoonishly evil contest is harrow it's gonna make gideon look like a much better person but like. idk everyone was shocked by her being a dick in ntn but it's not really that different from how she was before?

also i really really hate the fandom himboification of her turning her into a one-dimensional horny fuckboi vehicle for harrow to have 36 orgasms or whatever. or the opposite where they make her a loyal idiot golden retriever. butches often have personalities that are not either of these things, actually!

song i associate with them it is 100% absolutely from hell with love and sweet true lies, both by beast in black. not only do they sound like songs i think gideon would listen to, like, the lyrics are so.

Killed my light To serve your delight Now see me ripped apart Ripped apart

Another voiceless cry Another hopeless try I wish you'd open your wings and take me inside From hell with love I write Confess my passion crime Cause to my heart, soul and mind, you are kryptonite Oh babe

like cmon.

Baby, baby tell me more of your lies Say you want me for a lifetime I believe you even when I know it's a lie Love's so blind Sweet true lies

AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! thank you @oceanwrath for introducing me to these songs with your tlt art.

favorite picture of them again i can't choose just one there's so much good art in this fandom but my favorites are this FUCKING STUNNING kiriona piece by @nil-elk and this amazing one by @battletailors and this incredible piece by @notedchampagne and this one by @may12324 and this one by oceanwrath and listen ok i just really really like gideon nav 😭

thanks for the ask!

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 6 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: Ruth and Kidd are quickly becoming one of my favorite Brotps of the fic haha! That being said, enjoy the beginning of a hilarious partnership in this chapter. Let me know what you think :)

Learning secondhand that Colonel Huglin was being transferred to a hospital in London due to stomach ulcers and was going to be replaced was most assuredly not on Ruth’s list of things that she needed to have happen.  A change in leadership during an attempt to clean house of problem-makers wasn’t going to help the situation much and she felt for the men on base, the confusion of the past few days probably leaving them reeling. 

Still, Ruth was one of the first people up after Huglin was sent away and his replacement, Colonel Harding wanted to meet with all of the Air Executives, all of the Majors, and anyone who was going to be pertinent in relaying information to him.  That being said, Ruth was also one of the first people that he met with—in fact, she was the first. 

The difference between Colonel Huglin and Colonel Harding was startling—and she found Chick Harding to be altogether more relaxed than Colonel Huglin had been.  In fact, the first thing that he did was offer her a cigarette. 

“You smoke, Lieutenant?” Harding asked, leaning forward and offering his pack in her direction. 

Clearly an attempt to get a read on her. 

“Not often, but occasionally,” Ruth carefully plucked a cigarette with a nod of gratitude.  She leaned forward, allowing him to light the cigarette as they sat there, a silent battle of wills and attempting to read one another in the process. 

“I’ll be honest,” Harding gave a sigh. “I’m not a big fan of having JAG-Corp on base.” 

“Not many are.” 

“But in the few weeks since you’ve been here, the numbers don’t lie.  Lower court martial cases, clearer direction with the missions.  Huglin wanted you here indefinitely, correct?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“For now, I’m of the same mindset.  But I’ll be frank with you—” 

“I’d much prefer it if you were, sir.  And I don’t get offended by much,” Ruth added.  

“Things are going to be different now that I’m here.  I care, of course—about the well-being of the men.  But I’m more of a spirit of the law leader than a letter of the law kind of guy.  I’ll rely upon your good judgements to decide if a court martial is really needed, of course.  But I’d prefer to utilize your abilities more so on the level of surveying missions and making battle decisions.” 

“Sir?” 

“I understand that you’re not a combatant.  But truthfully, from a legal standpoint, this war has all but shot us to hell.  So as much as you can help us logically work through things on our end here, things might go smoother out there,” Harding insisted. 

“I look forward to the challenge, sir.” 

“Great,” Harding let out a sigh and leaned back.  “Now about the Hunderedth’s Air Executive—I’ve heard some mixed things. I want your thoughts.” 

Ruth sucked in a breath of smoke, thinking long and hard for a moment about how she was going to respond to this particular question.  “Some leaders are better leaders when they’re in the field and with their men.” 

“Is that your professional opinion?” 

“He’s antsy on the ground, especially when his men are in the air.  He cares too much to be comfortable sitting back on base.  I think his talents would be more useful to all of the men in the skies rather than down on the ground.  Someone else would have to be considered but I’m afraid I don’t know the men well enough to suggest anyone else.  Perhaps by speaking with the other men and Majors you can find a suitable replacement?” Ruth finally finished.  

Colonel Harding made a note on the paper in front of him.  “I thank you for your time, Lieutenant Sharpe.  This has been enlightening.” 

“My pleasure, sir.  And welcome to Thorpe Abbotts.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Both Jack Kidd and Gale Cleven were digging into breakfast by the time that Bucky finally emerged from Colonel Harding’s office—looking slightly relieved and dead-tired.  “Boys,” Bucky exclaimed, pulling out a seat and sinking into the chair across from them. 

“Bucky,” Kidd mumbled, a mouthful still full of food. 

“Well?” Buck questioned, narrowing his gaze at his friend. 

“I got demoted,” Bucky retorted, tone still full of relieved surprise.  

“To…?” 

“CO of the 418th Squadron,” Bucky answered.  He glanced over in Kidd’s direction, a slight look of apology in his eyes.  “Sorry Jack, the boys are back with me again.” 

“It’ll be good to get my fort back,” Kidd said with a slight shrug.  

Bucky just gave a wince. “Yeah, Harding wants to see you about that.” 

The coloring drained from Kidd’s face as he blinked slowly.  “I’m Air-Exec?” Bucky simply gave a nod and Kidd dropped his fork.  “You son of a bitch.” 

“It wasn’t my idea,” Bucky replied defensively.  

“Yeah, Huglin recommended it—” Buck cut in. 

“You’re both sons of bitches,” Kidd said, shaking his head at the pair of Bucks.  He shoved his chair out from behind himself and got up, annoyance clear as day on his face. 

“Look at this way,” Bucky tried encouragingly.  “He thinks we’re the least disciplined bomb group on the entire base and maybe you can make a difference.”

“I don’t want to be the guy wiping your ass, Bucky.” 

With that, Jack Kidd strode from the breakfast table and towards Harding’s office, trying to clear his mind as the annoyance overtook him.  Finding Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe waiting outside wasn’t a surprise and clearly had an impact on Bucky’s foul mood that he had acquired.  Wordlessly, Sharpe handed him some paperwork. 

“What’s this, then?” Kidd asked in a weary tone. 

“For when you accept the position,” She replied in an innocent voice. 

“How can you be so sure I’m accepting the position?” Kidd retorted. 

“Because while Bucky Egan might be a likable guy and a great leader in the field, he was a little too drunk to be an Air Executive at any given time.  And there’s no one else that Huglin liked enough to recommend the job.  So that leaves you without an option,” Ruth said simply, shrugging her shoulders ever so slightly.  

Jack Kidd had never been so annoyed in his life.  And he was even more annoyed, fifteen minutes later, when he strode from the office and plucked the paperwork from Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe wordlessly.  Stupid Bucky Egan getting demoted and forcing him to be the one working with the shark lawyer. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruth couldn’t say that she’d ever had the misfortune of seeing a plane crash up until this point.  But three weeks later, in mid-July, Ruth saw it with her own eyes.  She had been discussing an upcoming mission with Jack Kidd when sirens began to blare and the two of them had locked eyes in slight confusion. 

“I didn’t think your men were flying today,” Ruth said, shoving her notebook shut. 

“They’re not,” Kidd frowned.  “It’s just some practice runs, no missions—” 

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before someone else was running in and calling for him—given the fact that he was the new Air Executive of the Hundredth and it was one of his pilots that had crashed and gone down. But then before Ruth could even encourage him to go off and address the problem, the private was adding that Ruth’s presence had been requested for the recording of the incident. 

So there Ruth was, on an early morning in July, in a jeep with Jack Kidd and going to inspect the damages done and interview the mechanics and ground crew that had worked on the plane.  It wasn’t an investigation by any means, but it certainly felt more like one than she had done in years. 

The car ride there was short and tense—and she could see the thick black smoke licking up into the air from the main headquarters.  As they approached the treeline, the scent of oil and something burnt shifted through the air and Ruth nearly gagged at the smell.  There was a reason why she wasn’t a damn nurse—she hated anything to do with the doctors or nurses.  She didn’t envy the men who were attempting to find any remains. 

They were on the scene fairly quickly, though there were already people showing up to help put out the fire, remove debris, and attempting to assess the situation at hand.  Ruth wasn’t surprised when the other Majors on the base arrived on the scene, staring at the smoke and crash-site.  

It was a haunting smell, and one that she knew all of them would remember for the rest of their lives.  God, it made her worried about her brothers.  Ruth kept quiet, eyes locked onto the scene ahead of her.  Guide them safely home and please—let it have been quick for all of them.  A silent prayer seemed to pour out from her heart and then the moment was gone. She busied herself with asking the proper questions and recording responses.  

When she had finally finished up, she returned back to where the Majors were all talking in quiet tones.  “Finish up the interviews?” Kidd questioned, gaze falling on her. 

“Yes.  It seems to be a pilot error, nothing to do with the ground crew,” Ruth replied.  

Harding arrived on the scene not even seconds later, a frown on his face.  “What happened?” He questioned, gaze switching onto the group of Majors, Air Executives, and Ruth. 

“Practice mission—he went into his turn too early and too slow.  Engine stalled out,” Veale answered.  

“Who was it?” Harding pressed. 

“One of the 349th. A new crew.”

“Barnhill,” Buck answered grimly.

Harding glanced in Ruth’s direction.  “You get any answers out of the mechanics?” 

“The plane was perfectly fine before they left.  It seems to just be an error on the pilot’s side of things, though that can’t be remedied now,” Ruth said with a slight frown.  “I’ll have the report back to you within the next hour.” 

Harding gave a firm nod.  “We’re going to have to move things around to make up for the loss.  Veale, you get working on the letters to the families and then we all need to have a long conversation about how to avoid simple accidents like this.” 

The resounding “Yes sir” still echoed in Ruth’s ears as they left.  Because how could that ever be considered a simple accident?  And how could they all become so numb to the realities of war that they forgot what it was to be an actual living and breathing human being? She figured that if people got numb enough to what war was—and it was a living hell and should not have happened in the first place—then they couldn’t ever resolve or stop the horrors of it.  Because they’d be too far removed and numb to what it meant to be at peace. 

They could not forget it.  And Ruth would be damned before she let them do so. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruth was well-acquainted with the art of curling hair.  Not that she had any need of it, given the ever-present state of her hair always being curly.  But at the moment, she was placing curlers in Helen’s hair.  Not a single force on the whole damn planet could have convinced her of going out that night—especially given the fact that the smell had lingered throughout the day. 

Her report had been pristinely delivered to Harding just when she said it was and they had spent the better part of the morning rearranging the forts to make up for the loss of numbers that they had endured over the last few weeks. 

By the time that night had fallen, Ruth was plain and simple, just tuckered out.  Her social battery left little to be desired, but neither Tatty or Helen seemed bothered by her cold demeanor and it almost threw her for a loop.  So they had asked her to help them with their hair and to just have a quiet night in.  Ruth could handle that sort of thing like it was just another Tuesday. 

“You’re not writing any men, are you?” Helen asked, craning her neck ever so slightly to catch a look at Ruth’s face. 

Ruth wasn’t fazed by the question and didn’t even blink. “Just my two brothers.  I’m afraid I’m very boring.” 

“Oh there had to be someone,” Tatty insisted, giving a slight wince as Helen finished up a curl in her own hair. 

“There’s no one,” Ruth reassured them.  “Though to my mother and father, that’s a different story.  They’re under the delightful impression that my sole goal in being in Europe at the moment is because I’m engaged to some pilot and waiting for the war to be over.  Because of that, I’m clearly advocating for women’s causes in the countryside.” 

Tatty couldn’t help the fact that her jaw dropped.  “You told them all of that?” 

“Oh please, I did all of that before I even left for Europe.  I’ve told much worse lies.  I think,” Ruth gave a slight shrug.  

“Why though?” Helen questioned. 

“Because my sisters Alice and Sarah—one’s married and the other is engaged and they think that I should do that too.  But days like today?  Where a man blows up because he was going too slow?  That’s a harsh slap in the face to the reality of war.  And I won’t be one of those little widows, barely bed, and their husband dies.  That’d just be awful.  Love is for children, which I am not.” 

“God,” Helen sighed.  “We just need to find you a nice man.” 

“Now you sound like my mother,” Ruth retorted.  “But I’ll concede to that.  You find me a man who does major damage to the German empire, has a sense of humor, and one that can keep up with me?  I’ll go on a date with that man.” 

“Something tells me that he’s going to be hard to find,” Tatty mumbled.  “Seeing as how most of these pilots don’t come back truthfully.” 

“Exactly.” 

[acourtofladydeath]

WIP Game

Thank you for the tags @yanny-77 and @witch-and-her-witcher!!

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I have SO MANY WIPs in varying stages ranging from "ferally writing every chance i get, including in my sleep and during class" to "drowning and forgotten at the bottom of the pool while I work on everything else." Some are mostly drafted, others are outlines, and some are just ideas I've dropped into docs but all are near and dear to my little fanfic heart.

Welcome to the Family (Elain X all the Vanserras)

Sariel Sic Fic (Azris)

*ASOLB Ch3: Dare to Dream (Azris)

*RttHC Ch2: Winners & Losers (Azris X Nessian)

*TTBW Ch5: You Were Only Waiting (Nessriel)

Ch7: Reunited (Patrochilles)

UTM contact -> mating (Azris)

What Eris got Az for solstice (Azris)

Casris Hounds

Who Have We Become? (IC has to face some shit)

The Process of Progress (Azriel focused)

Carhysta Smut

A Court of Hurting and Healing (Bat Boys focused)

And So, We Danced (Nesta & Eris brotp w/ Nessian & Azris)

How Dare You (AU Azris)

Lovers Live and Die, Fortissimo (AU - Azris, Nessian, Elucien, Helion X LOA)

Lauda/Hunt F1 AU (Azriel/Cassian)

UTM Lucien/Eris fic

Patrochilles Azris

Eris shows up drunk & injured, see screenshots (Azris)

Feysand vs. Nessriel

FFF smut part 2 (Eltamcien)

ASOLB mating frenzy (Azris)

Jurian and Rhys heart-to-heart

Bat Boy reunion after UTM

*RttHC, TTBW, and ASOLB each have a doc per chapter, so they have multiple WIP docs, but I only listed the chapters I'm currently writing/working on.

Several are whump, several are feel good fun, some are more serious commentaries, and a few are straight smut. There are also MORE THAN THIS. But those ideas were either not as fleshed out or ones I wanted to keep to myself.

ANYWAY THIS IS HOW MY BRAIN WORKS. Welcome to my personal hell. ? Heaven? Unclear...

For legal reasons and my own gods damned sanity I make literally zero guarantees that you get all of these by the way. but THEY EXIST. There's also the two original fiction ideas that I have and have documents for but I'm keeping those close to the chest.

There's literally no way to tag as many people as I have fics so I'm just picking a few. I apologize if you've already been tagged and NO PRESSURE! @thelov3lybookworm, @readychilledwine, @born-to-riot, @danikamariewrites, @thelovelymadone, @theatrequeen, @nocasdatsgay