#could very well be platonic but I'm tagging it anyway

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

they're cosmic besties and soulmates, your honour. they may be a bit silly but their bond stretches across space and time, your honour!! no matter how, they're connected in every universe — every universe, your honour...!

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[milfbrainrot]

have always been a bit more neutral to timebomb but it has rly surprisingly grown on me so much ;-; i think i do see it more from the tragedy angle and maybe more one-sided. i'm not sure jinx has ever been in a place to reciprocate the feelings i'm sure ekko has, but it is nice to think about for years down the line and in terms of what could have been.

[kakusu-shipping]

hi omg your tags on my post have given me SO much motivation i need to figure out a s/i design it'd be so fun to have our self inserts interact....... also thank you for reminding me i need to watch more mushishi i really enjoyed the little bit of it i watched - @popdearest

BANGING ON THE TABLE

Mushishi is my FAVORITE anime EVER and I simply want everyone to watch it please watch it and tell me what you think and if you end up joining the Aro!Ginko Polycule there's quite a few of us and there's always room for more <3

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 50!

another lovely round of fics for you all <3 full disclosure i did not double check this with my masterlist of recs so while i doubt it, it's possible that i've recced some of these before... i guess that could just be a sign that they're extra good lol.

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

75 best knitting puns that will have you hooked | iphigenias/@oatflatwhite | 4.1k | GA

Buck—Buck is knitting. Eddie blinks, rubs his eyes. Yeah, Buck is knitting: thick fingers a little clumsy as Bobby shows him how to purl stitch with a soft-looking ball of pink ombre wool.  softest most domestic little fic <3

all the lights are coming on | sharpbutsoft/@sharpbutsoft | 1.2k | GA

What good is having a key to your best friend’s house if you can’t use it to spread a little holiday magic? spreading the holiday magic <3<3 this was everything i needed and wanted and i love it so very much

any other bodily sense | kiwiibiird/@buckevanley | 10.2k | GA

Post-s2 sickfic. Buck is stuck with a broke leg and a bad cold. Maddie and Eddie help him out. forehead kisses and maddie and buddie and hurt/comfort... literally what else could a girl (me) need? the answer is nothing because this fic is everything!!

born with a weak heart | foxwatson/@eddiediazes | 7.5k | T

the one where eddie won't touch buck once he wakes up in the hospital, and buck goes absolutely bonkers bananas about it. is it truly a michelle rec list if there's no touch-starved fic on there? i don't think it is lol. i've reread this several times now and it's just the absolute loveliest <3

don't break | odysseus_calls | 2.4k | T

5 times the 118 is tired of Buck and Eddie acting like a couple, and the time they find out they've been dating the whole time. i LOVE hijinks and shenanigans <3 this captures them so perfectly!!

hooker | mansikka | 3.9k | T

When Eddie's life turns to hell, he turns to hooking. Crochet hooking. i've been attempting to crochet again (made a little cat today!) and it's only half because i want to be cool and crafty and half because people make it sound so cool and crafty in fics. anyway point is this was brilliant and so eddie and i loved it v v much!!

i sleep so i can see you ('cause i hate to wait so long) | turquoiseviolet/@turquoisevioiet | 25.7k | T

eddie’s not sleeping and buck’s worried. after all, he’s supposed to be the one who fixes everything, isn’t he? platonic cuddling! homoerotic friendship! getting together! if buddie fic had a bingo card, this would tick all of the boxes <3 so good!!

loves a game, wanna play? | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 57.5k | M

In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together. okay so admittedly all my big plans to read my marked for later list this week failed miserably, cause this is the only fic from there that i actually read... on the other hand, what a brilliant one it is!! it's so funny and so good and i loved the social media elements in there. also, maya and maria <3

sub drop city, population: eddie diaz | peaktotheocean/@peaktotheocean | 4k | T

It takes Eddie longer than he cares to admit to realize that Buck has been giving him aftercare on the sly. i'm such a sucker for aftercare and this has SUCH a lovely buddie dynamic <3

swinging there, in the corner of our haven | anti_romantic_cherub | 1.6k | GA

Eddie bought Buck a hammock, and now he's reaping the rewards (Buck napping in his backyard). buck napping in eddie's backyard <3 such a lovely image and this is executed so so well, i love it!!

the city is a jungle and i'm a beast | putanauhere/@putanauhere | 42.8k | M

Eddie has enough on his plate this summer – a newly empty nest, a terrible new captain, and a new mustache – without adding a new werewolf to the mix. the most fascinating werewolf au <3 i love the buddie dynamic here and how they approach the werewolfism with such different attitudes. so good!!

toss up | saucerfulofsins/@saucerfulofsins | 3.5k | E

Eddie is caught browsing bad gay porn, and Buck takes it upon himself to show Eddie the good stuff. most glorious brilliant fic concept to ever fic <3 this is fantastic!!

trivial pursuit of love | niemi | 6.2k | T

Buck attends Tommy’s trivia night with Eddie, his newfound feelings for his best friend bottled up and ready to burst. As it turns out, he’s not the only one with a secret. buddie at trivia night!! i loved this fic so much, it was a real highlight on a rainy morning bus ride <3

weaving in our loose ends | PretentiousSwanQueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 8.6k | T

Eddie is a knitter with the Loose Ends Project and he's assigned to finish the project of a loved one of Buck's. the gasp i let out when i realised what buck's project is... gorgeous fic!!

white sheets, you and me start to lay close | effervescentwolf/@effervescentwolf | 1.5k | T

He thinks of his empty bed at home, and his chest feels tight. It’s just that—it’s okay if it’s Buck. He can let Buck catch him. give me all the bed-sharing fics, please and thank you <3 this is one of the best uses of the trope i've seen in a long time, it's so lovely <3

[weirdsht]

I have this random idea and I neeed to yap about it here lmaoo

I'm just thinking about krs taking care of a teen around locks age, he met them at some point of the apocalypse and decided to take them under his wing.

let's say they transmigrated together or reader a bit after krs, but they meet at some point in the novel, anyways bc krs!cale took care of them for a good 3-4 years before the transmigration he subconsciously does the things he did before without noticing.

another random thing that came to mind:

idk someone: "wow young master, you really know this kid"

cale: "I hope i do i took care of them for a good 3 years"

random person: "when???"

ignore how this might not make sense storywise and probably characterwise, I'm really sleepy 🙏

Homecoming - Cale & Teen! Reader

a/n: i want to write more but my brain is all out of creative juices because almost all of my profs are making us write essays every day. not to mention that directing thingy i need to do for that stupid uni short film

tags: fluff, platonic, reader is unhinge if you squint, gn!reader

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Requests are open and welcome

Navigation Masterlist

“...What are you doing here?”

That was the first thing Cale asked you as soon as he saw you.

“And you are..?”

Was your question to respond to his question.

Because why is this random nobleman talking to you as if he knew you? Sure he reminds you a bit of Kim Rok Soo but still.

This guy is essentially a stranger and your big brother Rok Soo has taught you stranger-danger.

You can see the redhead sigh before pushing his hair back with his left hand. There’s a look of fondness and frustration in his eyes, another thing that reminds you of your big brother.

Kim Rok Soo wasn’t actually your big brother biologically speaking. Both of you were orphans who found each other in the middle of a ruined world. Two abandoned people who found solace within each other. 

You quite literally tripped into Rok Soo’s life a few months after he became a team leader.

The same way how you literally tripped into this weird noble’s porch. 

Speaking of which, that said noble is now telling everyone to give the two of you some privacy. He even asked the cute baby dragon to put a soundproof barrier around the room.

“Are you doing that to mask my screams when you kill me?”

You couldn’t help but ask once everyone was out of the room. Rok Soo had always told you about not letting your impulsive thoughts win but you couldn’t help it.

Cale sighed loudly and tiredly, exactly the same reaction your Rok Soo would do when you said something stupid.

“No I’m not gonna kill you, and no I’m not going to eat you either so don’t even ask.”

You clamped your mouth shut after that. The question dying on your tongue before you could even ask it.

“I’m going explain myself and then you’ll do the same okay?”

You nodded seeing as you don’t really have a choice. You’re in this guy’s turf and there’s no way you can outrun a dragon and whatever monster of a people this guy has with him. And so you behaved yourself and settled on the plush couch you were escorted to.

“My name is Cale Henituse, or at least that’s my current name. I used to be Kim Rok Soo back on Earth before I died.”

…okay what?

What now?

He was who?

Kim Rok Soo— well you guess he goes by Cale now — knows you well enough to know that this information would cause your brain to overdrive. And so he has a glass of iced water prepared for your poor self to drink.

“Wha- how- huh?”

You tried to formulate words after gulping the water but your mind is still reeling. There’s simply no comprehending this new information bought upon you.

But it’s fine since Cale is willing to wait for you to come around.

Even after 3 weeks of waiting, his still very patient.

He knows when to give you space, but also knows when to spend time with you. Cale knows exactly when you need him to be there for you and when your mind is confused about him being a stranger but also being the big brother you dearly love.

Of course, this raised some questions with the others. Cale suddenly took in another teen one day and he seemed to have known them all his life even though he just met them 3 weeks ago.

“Young master you seem to really know that kid.”

Hans asked one day. In a short distance, Ron was also listening in while dusting some decorative vases.

"I hope I do, I took care of them for a good 3 years."

Was Cale’s nonchalant answer before leaving the room in order to go to your bedroom. He had promised you that he’ll let you wander around the forest today after all. 

Meanwhile, the two servants are flabbergasted — Ron was just hiding it better than Hans.

“...3 years? How did he hide from us that he took care of a child, an entire human being, for three whole years??”

Hans asked and the only answer he got was the dust from Ron’s feather duster flying towards his face.

[2demondogs]

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, eighteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Eddeth

Day #30 - Fame & Fortune | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Fake!Eddeth, Steddie | Tags: Modern AU, Stop Trying to Make Eddeth Happen, It's Not Gonna Happen, Eddie & Gareth Are Best Friends, They Are Also: Idiot², Paparazzi, Social Media, Luddite Eddie, Steve Harrington Has To Clean Up All Their Messes, But What Else Is New?

"Did you know they're shipping us?" 

"Shipping us where? I hope they poke holes first," Eddie says, looking over at Gareth as he's scrolling on his phone. Gareth isn't listening to him, doesn't even laugh, which Eddie thinks is rude. That was a great dad joke.

He's picked up dad jokes from Steve, because Steve's corny as fuck. 

"Not like that," Gareth says, "like, shipping us together. We have a name and everything."

"Speak English," Eddie demands.

"You know, like Bennifer? But we're Eddeth," Gareth says.

"Who's Bennifer?"

"Which version?" Gareth asks, "Nevermind. You don't care. It's the ship name for Ben and Jennifer together. Do you never read the tabloids?"

"No. And I don't like that," Eddie says.

"Well, I knew you wouldn't. But now they're thinking about us. Together. Romantically. Enough that we have a mash-up of our names together."

Eddie barks out a laugh, "Well, alright. Whatever floats their boat."

Gareth sits there quietly for a bit, then says, "Maybe we can use this. Drum up some attention for the band. Get our name out there. Be a trending hashtag."

"I don't know what that means," Eddie says. 

"I know you don't. But we could, like, get in the zeitgeist."

"I hate everything you're choosing to be right now," Eddie says.

"Eddie. This could blow us up."

"Well, sure, in that case I'll tell Steve to just step aside."

"Not for real, dummy. Just for the paparazzi. Get our names talked about more. If they see more of the band, they may like the band more."

Eddie says he'll think about it, but he has no intention of doing any of that. They are exactly the right amount of famous. He can walk down the street without being harassed, but they live comfortably. He isn't about to upset that apple cart.

But it persists. There's buzz, apparently. At least according to Gareth, anyway.

So, at the next show, Eddie hops up on the drum riser and covers Bang Dem Sticks, while flirting with Gareth. It is possible to flirt platonically, and he does it very well. 

The next day, Gareth shows him all the chatter. The tiktoks. The commentary. And, well, maybe they could use this to their advantage. Just for a minute.

So, they walk down a dozen different sidewalks, and no paparazzi cameras pop out to snap pictures. Which is normal. He isn't sure why Gareth suddenly thought they'd make TMZ. 

But Gareth persists, and they even go to the Ivy, and still nothing. 

Even LAX is a fucking bust. 

That night, Eddie crawls into bed next to Steve, and sighs.

"What's the matter with you?" Steve asks, tipping down his iPad to look at Eddie.

"Nobody will take my picture with Gareth."

Steve laughs, "What the hell are you talking about?"

So, Eddie tells him their grand plan, and Steve is laughing his fucking ass off before Eddie can even finish. 

"Eddie. You have to call the paps if you want to do a pap walk. They aren't mind-readers. They don't just show up. Do you think all those pictures of celebs you see are actually candid? They definitely aren't."

Well, Eddie never looks at pap pictures. He has no fucking clue. He likes to fly under the radar.

"Really?" Eddie eventually asks. 

"Really. Do you want me to organize a pap walk for you?" Steve asks, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Well. Kinda," he says, "we're Eddeth."

"I know, honey. I've seen all the videos of you flirting with him on stage."

Eddie laughs, "You know that's not real, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm not new here," Steve says, "I'll call it in tomorrow. You can be photographed to your heart's content."

And they are. As if it were magic, a handful of photogs are suddenly very aware of where they'll be on various outings. Eddie holds the door for Gareth. Hugs him on the street corner. They get an inordinate amount of coffees that Eddie doesn't even like.

The pictures run, and not a lot of people care, but they are being discussed in some circles. 

So, they keep doing it. Dinners and movies and trips through the airport where they're not really going anywhere. Only going through security, as if they were.

That's a brand new kind of torture. Who goes through TSA when they don't actually have to? 

More coffee. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Eddie's never bought this many drinks in his life. 

And then the bottom falls out. 

Someone makes a video that goes extremely viral, explaining everyone in their Corroded Coffin circle. 

Including Steve. 

In fact, it's almost mourning the breakup of them. Steddie. They're Steddie, apparently, and now the fans, the real fans, those that actually have followed them, are upset. Pointing fingers, assigning blame. Some to Eddie, some to Gareth.

Fuck.

"Uh, we've got a problem," Eddie tells Steve, and Steve just shakes his head, already aware of the situation.

"Do we have to do a pap walk now?" Eddie asks, worrying his hands together. 

He never did anything romantic with Gareth. It can all be explained away, swept under the rug. 

He thinks.

He hopes.

"I really don't want to," Steve says, and that's that. They won't.

Now, Eddie's either a cheater in the eyes of their actual fans, or they think Steve's gone. 

Instead, Gareth does a couple pap walks with his girlfriend, and she's branded a beard, immediately. They really fucked this up, big time. 

"We'll go to dinner. The four of us," Steve says, "I'll call it in."

And Eddie kisses his cheek, over and over.

Just to be safe, Steve has their publicist send TMZ a copy of their marriage certificate, and some boilerplate that Eddie and Gareth are just best friends, and always have been.

As they settle into the booth at the restaurant, pictures still being taken, Steve asks, "Are we done trying to be tabloid fodder? Have we learned our lesson?"

"Yes, Steve," Eddie and Gareth both say in unison.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[spotaus]

Everyone say hello to DreamEater AU's very own Dream! (And Fresh!) Otherwise known as Tulpa!

This AU is technically a Dream × Fresh ship story, but honestly it could be taken as Platonic because I view them both as aroace kings 👌. (This is alao Extremely self-indulgent lmao-) I'm gonna put more under the cut + close-ups but what is important is:

Dream is badly injured by Dust and ends up in a random AU after a messy retreat from battle. Fresh stumbles across him in need of a new host and attempts to take over Dream. Dream isn't a normal monster though, and he fights the hostile take-over. His soul doesn't decay like a normal monster's when Fresh feeds, so they end up coming to an agreement to share the body while Dream heals.

SO!!!

The DreamEater au comes from an idea I had years ago. Dream is injured, and it leaves him badly paralyzed while he recovers. In the old concept Fresh just nursed him back to health. In the DreamEater AU, Fresh is actively using Dream's unique vessel to his own advantage. It's like finding a body that fits him like a glove, and so he's content to just keep it. Until, of course, Dream becomes conscious again.

Fresh successfully takes Dream's body for a week or so before Dream is lucid again as a soul, and he tries to reason with Fresh to give him back control. He explains what happened and why he needs to get back. Fresh explains that he's going to keep being a parasite and no way he's giving up the perfect body. It's a long back and forth before Fresh relents and let's Dream take control again, only for him to collapse. Dream can't feel anything from his neck down due to where he'd been injured.

Fresh takes over again, and Dream just kinda lingers along with Fresh, staying in the passenger's seat of the body. He is stressed and worried but knows now that it'll take ages for him to heal anyways. By letting Fresh roam he can see the state of the multiverse at least.

And as things go on, the balance keeps tipping. Farther and farther in Night's direction. It's palpable. Then one night Fresh talks with Dream. It's small-talk, but it turns out he thinks Dream's soul will keep going forever if he can be around happy people. Dream explains that without him to do guardian work there are less abd less of those positive people to feed him so Fresh can keep going.

So, Fresh agrees to help Dream return to his duty, but only minimally since he's extremely injured.

Dream returns most of his wardrobe, and Fresh controls his body while Dream directs him and takes over control of his skull. Any weird actions are chalked up to recovering from his injury. Blue and Ink are thrilled to see him again. All is well for a bit, and though Fresh holds Dream back sometimes, he ends up actually being really good for Dream's mental health by not letting him overwork or stress about things he doesn't need to. Dream teaches Fresh how to use a bow, how to fight with a staff, etc. They become... friends? At least while they help eachother. Having Fresh tag along doesn't hurt Dream at all, and Fresh loves his free buffet of Dream.

Blue is the first one to notice Fresh, but he's not actively hurting Dream so he says nothing.

It's hinted when m, during a fight with NM's gang, someone curses and It's censored. Everyone is on edge because many of them don't like Fresh, and the bttle dispurses quickly afterwards.

It's revealed on a day that Dream is ambushed on an errand and Fresh takes forceful control so he can Fresh-Poof out of the way. Dream's Soul is shown in the other eyelight that's normally dark, and Fresh takes full control just to skate around the gang, teasing and evading them. Dream wasn't happy, but he was grateful after the fact. Everyone knew after that, and Dream started to agree that without it being a secret, Fresh could change up the wardrobe.

Eventually Dream heals almost fully. At that point, Fresh tries not to get involved with NM's conflicts. He also swaps in and out of control with Dream seamlessly throughout an average day. They become actual friends, talking over eachother and playfully swapping control. And eventually that becomes an agreed partnership. Ink doesn't approve of having Fresh around all the time, but he's Dream's closest companion besides Blue, so he stays.

Point is, they care a lot about eachother, even when they started out so tense. They keep eachother safe for selfish reasons, and for their bond.

[wystiix]

"just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat."

❥ pairing: furina x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: So it's all finally over, Furina was free from the restraints of the curse and now she could live as a normal human being. Oh, but oh shit! What is it like to live as a human? A very strange concept to grasp indeed. ❥ cw: post-archon quest spoilers (fontaine), angst, first fic so it may be a bit ew but anyways ❥ additional tags: second pov perspective, reader is not traveler ❥ word count: 2.7k ❥ notes: remind me to NEVER write again because what the shit why is this so long. but yeah anyways my first fic woohoo 🗣️🗣️ i jsut want to get this out of my drafts like please this has been bugging me I HAVE SCHOOL TOO OMLKSDJSAJ. also this is kinda based off my last relationship cuz like my ex pushed me away and allat yk (i'm praying to god they don't see this). but ye reader is kinda a bitch like towards the end btw. i wrote this mainly in a romantic perspective, but this can also be interpreted as platonic!! yahoo enjoy <33

Humans are complex beings.

Tapestries of contradictions, thoughts and emotions, all woven together into the fabric of mere existence. They can wear masks, putting them on as a display for the appeal of others. Other times, they put on a mask to deceive—making others believe they are something that they are not. Perhaps if they fake it just a little more to an extent, even the divine could be fooled.

People may do it to gain approval. Others may do it for self-satisfaction. Whatever their reason, they have the choice to remove their mask at any point.

Furina, on the other hand, had to put on that facade for five hundred years. All that, in order to fool the Heavenly Principles and to free Fontaine from its prophecy.

In that, she succeeded.

Ever since Focalors’ execution, she was freed from the curse that had been laid upon her for centuries. The restraints and pressure to conform to the public persona she had put on to please the citizens of Fontaine. That, of course, meant that she could finally live her life. Not as an Archon, but as a normal human being.

But how does one conform to the reality of human existence? Especially since she’d been in the guise of a god her entire life?

Furina was so used to presenting herself as a performer for so long that the experiences of mortals and her identity have been fractured and completely out of reach. She couldn’t even begin to grasp the nuances of mundane human interactions. Usually, she’d sit around, observing the humans– people around her. 

Differences flurried.

Some faces radiated with joy and their laughter could be heard like a choir of tinkling bells in the air. Others wept, perhaps even grieving, in the arms of their loved ones. Arguments erupted in one corner, and people’s raised voices could be heard.

Different faces and different emotions, all in one area. Very common human experiences—they all acted differently too.

As she continued to observe, it was apparent that they all had something quite similar: they all seemed genuine and had someone there to stick with them. If one person cracked a joke, they had someone to laugh with. If they were crying, they had someone’s shoulder to cry on.

Amidst all, the realisation struck her. It was painfully clear and it was being shoved right at her face. There was something they possessed that Furina herself lacked: authenticity.

Everything she did for the past five hundred years was an act. And she did it alone.

Sure, she was well-known throughout Fontaine—she did make sure to flaunt herself with a sprinkle of dramatic flair to protect her title as an “Archon” of the nation and to be seen as capable. She also had assistance from her Iudex, Neuvillette, working closely with him.

Other than that, she never had many friends throughout her life. She was lonely. Now that she wasn’t an “Archon” anymore, she felt she wasn’t needed. It was like she was going to get discarded now that she wasn’t making that false claim anymore.

That was until she met you.

You were but a passerby, strolling through the city, when the sound of soft sniffles caught your attention. Your footsteps led you outside the Opera Epiclese. There by the fountain, you caught a glimpse of Furina’s figure hunched over, her tears glistening in the faint light of dusk. The evening air was thick as you observed her from a distance. You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on her in her sorrowful and seemingly private state. Oh, but your empath instincts were acting up. Something urged you forward.

You took one step. Then another. And another. Until you found yourself standing before her, just a few feet away to keep a distance, each movement being out of impulse. Was your body on auto-pilot, perhaps? It wasn’t until—

“Lady Furina, is everything alright?” you asked gently.

Furina looked up at the sound of your voice, a little startled. Shit, was she not crying silently enough? In an attempt to mask the redness in her eyes, she quickly wiped her tears away and straightened up to her usual composed demeanour. Her crying was not a pretty sight, and she definitely did not want a passerby to see her in this state.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied in between sniffles, her voice wavering despite the attempt to appear nonchalant.

You stared at her. “Uhm, you sure? Your eyes seem all… puffy.”

Furina blinked, caught off-guard by your simple observation. “Puffy?” she echoed. She glanced down at the water fountain to examine her face.

While she was aware of the fact that she was not blessed enough to be a pretty crier, she may have underestimated how ugly crying actually was, because sweet Celestia she looked like she’d been stung by twenty angry bees. Her eyes were not only puffed up as you have mentioned, but her dark circles were more prominent, and her cheeks appeared inflamed and swollen.

“It’s nothing!” she insisted, waving her hand dismissively. Though, her gaze faltered as she glanced away from you.

You weren’t convinced. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“But it is nothing. It’s not like I’m crying. I’m just…” she trailed off, unable to form a proper sentence. “Just… don’t look at me like this. I’m not particularly at my best look as of right now, and I’d hate to display myself openly to a citizen. It’s humiliating.”

The air was thick with shrouded silence, and her closed-off body language indicated her hesitance to continue this awkward conversation. 

“Hey, I don't know if this means much hearing from a citizen as you call it,” you said. “But it's okay to cry. I'm not going to judge you for it.”

Furina blinked at you, her tears still cascading down her cheeks.

You shifted awkwardly in your spot, attempting to stand straight. “I may be a stranger and all, but I consider myself a good listener,” you professed, before briefly rubbing the back of your neck. “Then again, you don't have to talk about it if you're not keen to. I apologise for intruding. I could always go—”

“No, actually, uhm,” she cleared her throat. “I could use some company. I suppose that I, Furina, shall grant you the honour to grace you with mine own presence. Sit with me, dearest commoner.”

She patted the empty spot next to her, and you complied.

“My apologies, it seems I haven't introduced myself properly. I'm [Name],” you say.

She nodded. “Furina. As you may have already known.”

And from that simple interaction alone, a newfound bond blossomed, akin to a beautiful rose that had just sprouted in a garden. That day, being the best throughout her whole five-hundred years of living, because she made the greatest decision ever—giving you a chance to sit with her and opening up to you, because then, she could also have the chance to be with you.

Furina had a mass amount of free time in her hands now that she was, well, free. And she was more than willing to do it all with you.

People like you were difficult to come by. You were attentive, open-minded, considerate and caring. Throughout your time with her, you’ve always adhered to her needs—from surfing with her, to purchasing her most-wanted item in her shopping list no matter how useless, to actually reading any book she recommended, to watching her direct a film. It was not like she could complain, you both thoroughly enjoyed each other's company.

Ah. Was this what she was missing out on throughout her whole life? She felt much calmer and… happier. She’d never known such a feeling, the fact that she was able to let her guard down around you, the warmth seeping through her entire being. Furina was starting to appreciate the little gestures, the little mundane experiences humans experienced through you.

Even so, a sense of doubt crept into her head, agonisingly swallowing her being little by little. There was a shitload of things she was capable of doing, she is the Furina who acted without any celestial or divine powers, which was beyond impressive. But when it came to relying on others, she was practically braindead and felt completely lost. Her first instinct was to isolate herself and push others away and you were no exception.

However, you stayed patient, trying to be the attentive and understanding person you were and listened intently.

“It’s like learning a new dance,” you would say as you stroked her hair, gently wiping her tears away. “You don’t aimlessly move around and expect to make a cohesive dance routine. It takes patience, taking baby steps and feeling the rhythm. Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat.” You paused before adding, “I promise, I’ll always be here.”

She nodded, leaning into your touch. “And I promise to show you the same amount of affection you’ve given to me.”

One, two, three. Each basic step, slow and deliberate. Miss Furina had familiarised herself with performing arts, so it wasn’t a surprise that she was skilled in the area of dancing. This time, she was following your lead.

It almost made her feel bad that you'd be willing to do anything for her.

One, two, three.

However, like a rose in the garden, it was bound to die eventually. 

For your sake, she’d often mask whenever she felt any sort of negativity and play it off as something foolish. Hell, it felt foolish and idiotic. How dare she feel that way after the countless times you’ve reassured her?

One, two, three.

Whenever she felt out of sync and faltered, she would retreat immediately, often needing time alone by herself. You didn’t press further and would watch her isolate herself in her room. The rhythm was quite unfamiliar, but you shrugged it off. Perhaps it’d be something she’d get over and will be fixed eventually?

One, two, three.

That didn’t happen. It happened more and more often. The breaks occurred frequently, and Furina grew increasingly distant from you. The promise you bestowed grew emptier and emptier each passing day. 

One, two, three.

But she is trying her best. She really is. It’s been hard.

One, two, three.

“Hey, I’m not going to do anything. Just take it slow, breathe. Take a deep breath in… and out.”

One, two, three.

It had been months, almost a year now. You felt as though you were the one shouldering the burden of this relationship, leaving you utterly drained.

One, two, three.

The metronome ticked. The rhythm was far too unfamiliar for you.

One, two, three.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Furina looked at you as you stood by her door, confusion etching her features. “Pardon?”

You sighed heavily. “How long will this last? Do I not matter to you?”

“...What prompted this?”

“I'm not sure, maybe for the past few months you’ve been actively avoiding me and completely shutting down my efforts to help you?”

“No, [Name], it’s not that! You just don’t understand. I just… I just need some time—”

“Don’t understand what, exactly?” you snapped. “I'm trying my best to be patient with you, I really am but I can’t do that if every fucking thing is about you. I feel like I’m the only one trying to put effort into this, but you keep pushing me away. It’s like you don’t even fucking care. C'est exaspérant, I’m tired.”

Her lip trembled and she could feel the tears form in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Shove it up your ass, Furina,” you place a hand on your forehead as if you were pushing back the impending headache that was forming. “I don’t want to hear it. How about instead of spouting empty apologies, you actually do something and try to put in some real effort, yeah?”

“But I am trying!” she protested.

"Sure you are. You don't even seem like you acknowledge the things I'm doing for you,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fat tear that rolled down her cheek. You averted your gaze away from her and got ready to leave. “I’ll just go.”

Furina’s heart dropped, more tears spilled from her eyes. She got up to grab your arm. “Wait, please. Don’t leave.”

You stood still, not turning your head towards her. “That’s new.”

“Huh?”

You jerked your arm away from her touch. “That’s new,” you repeated. “What happened to your ‘I want to be alone’s, hm?”

“Why are you asking such ridiculous questions?!” she croaked, almost sounding like a whine before shaking her head. “No, I won’t allow it! Stay with me for a little longer, please. Can we just talk about this later?”

“Give me one good reason why.”

“I’ll do better, I promise!” she pleaded. Archons it was hard to get her word across and think straight when her throat was practically constricting while she was fucking bawling in front of you, but her desperation palpable. She didn’t care if she looked ugly, she didn’t care if her eyes burned like hell. This was far more important.

“You’ve said that for the umpteenth time,” you take a deep breath to prevent yourself from exploding because this goddamn headache was not helping at all. “This isn’t the first time you promised that, you’ve been ‘promising’ that for almost a year. It’s losing its meaning and, if I’m being honest, I don’t believe it anymore.”

Furina couldn’t find the words to respond to that. The deafening silence enveloped the room shortly before you broke it with a sigh. “Yeah, I should get goi—” “I’m just afraid.”

The words hung heavy in the air, taking a while for you to process it. You wanted to ignore it but something was holding you back. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that I’ll end up pushing you away for good,” her voice was barely audible. “I don’t want to make things worse for you if I suddenly open up.”

“You know,” you shook your head, the frustration was bubbling up. “It’s actually ironic because that’s the problem. That’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re doing everything you can that pushes me away further than anything else ever could.”

She hated how she couldn’t deny it.

“So what now?” she sniffled, her tears flowing more freely. “You’re just going to walk away just like that?”

“I have to. You're exhausting.”

And you did. Those were the last words she heard from you before you walked out the door. You never entered it since.

One, two, three.

Promises are fragile things. In the end, they are merely just words. It's funny how words alone can shatter someone so easily.

Every day, Furina would sit by the same fountain where you met, hoping to catch the glimpse of your figure walking by. She would look into your favourite places and special spots where you used to hang out, hoping you'd at least be there and patch things up.

You never did, not even once did you come.

She could never do the same things she loved the same anymore, because it often reminded her of you. Each time, she’d envision your silhouette, leaving empty spaces in places where you would normally stand or sit next to her.

So here she was in this position again. The lonely vessel she always was since the day she was created for the sake of the prophecy. Was this her fate? Could she find any peace of mind at all?

“I shan’t sulk like this,” she scolded herself. “I am the Furina, for Archons’ sake! I know better than to further humiliate myself like this.”

She wiped away her tears and straightened up. Acting like this as if Teyvat just exploded over one person was pathetic.

Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat, she recalls you saying.

There was still time to heal. You weren't there anymore, but she still had to keep pushing through it.

It’s like a dance.

That line still echoed in her head.

One, two, three. The metronome still ticked. She had to move on. 

Furina still danced. She still had to take it slowly, step by step. Eventually, she will regain her footing—just this time, alone.

[mattdevil]

Saw this discussion in the jayvik tag and wanted to wade in:

I think the larger problem with the "Viktor is ace!" "Ace people can still like sex/romance!" discourse is that the Viktor-being-ace bit hit a lot of people, myself included, as a kneejerk reaction from CL to try and kibosh any and all mention of there being ~something more~ between the two. It was treated as a "gotcha" in a way that implies CL doesn't have a good understanding of aspec identities, and I think a lot of people had very strong reactions to that; so in an attempt to counter what feels like bad faith stereotyping, the pendulum gets swung too far back the other direction with the unfortunate side effect of making it seem like everyone participating believes that ALL aspec folks can, or even should, also participate in sexual or romantic relationships. I think if he'd said "hey it's cool you see it that way, our intent was to have V be aroace with no interest in sexual or romantic relationships because that is criminally underrepresented in media" (which is true), there would have been a very different reaction. There were two missing elements: an expression or acknowledgement of deeper understanding of aspec identities, and a willingness to accept that creative intent doesn't somehow trump or disenfranchise how your audience receives it. He missed on both, so now we are here.

Yeah you're totally right.

I agree with the valid criticisms of what Linke did. I don't think he actually knows the difference between asexual and aromantic. Based on what he said, he just asked around about which orientation was underrepresented anyways and he seem to have gone into this with minimal research, which made this maybe well intentioned attempt at ace representation turn into a shitshow. Because I agree with him in viewing Jayvik as a platonic ship gives the dynamic a fresh spin. I believe he actually intended to make Viktor aroace, but it was kind of a shitty move to reveal this as a way of bashing all the other interpretations, which made a lot of people perceive it as homophobic as this was done in response to shippers.

People are also upset with the stereotypical implications Viktor being ace implies, such as making disabled characters ace which makes them seem devoid of sexuality.

That being said, I think a lot of people have lost the plot too because Linke is now being accused with being ableist, homophobic and aphobic a lot more than what's proportional. I've seen people say he only made Viktor asexual because he is disabled and "robotic", because he saw Viktor as undesirable and quite inhuman. These are bullshit takes and people are pulling them out of nowhere imo. I have never seen anything suggesting Linke viewing Viktor's disability as something negative. Calling him a robot is outright wrong too because he got merged with the arcane, he didn't robotise himself like in the games. So none of these really contribute to Viktor's "negative" representation. Also, Linke could very well be homophobic but it kinda doesn't seem quite anormal for creators to talk about the intended details in the show after the show is over, so I don't think he did that reveal at a very odd point. Which now got me wondering aside from giving the homophobic fans the excuse to bash Jayvik shippers, whether we jumped the gun on calling him homophobic too.

I also agree with how the reactions would be a lot better if Linke handled the creative intent speech a lot better, but I'm not sure if it still would've made stop everyone from saying "hey even if he is asexual he can still have sex with Jayce" because this is just what shipping culture is like. As I've talked about it on the previous ask, people LOVE shipping, and they make aspec characters a part of this phenomenon regardless of how their sexual or romantic desires are presented in the source material.

Overall I agree with what you're saying though. Thank you for your insight.

[mothman-can-write]

heya! i also saw your tag about aro maria and ace natasha. i'm very fascinated about that. what's some of your takes on that dynamic? i've personally leaned towards ace/aspec, but it's always interesting to me when someone who identifies along there but more into sex or adverse to romance. just shows how diverse that spectrum is!

This is such a fun question and I'm going to preface it by saying these HCs are purely based on vibes and my own projection as someone on the aroace spec. I like to play around with their sexualities a lot bc it makes for interesting dynamics, but I'll stick to my thoughts about them being aspec for now haha. I can't promise this will be coherent and make sense but I'll try my best!

This got pretty long, so I'll put the rest of this essay under the cut:

A lot of my opinions of marvel characters are influenced by the comics, especially for Maria since we were given so little of her in the MCU. She has an interesting vibe to her that just... sort of screams being entirely uninterested in anything romantic. She's a very private person anyway, but never expresses interest in wanting romance, but she still wants so desperately to keep those she cares about safe. It's not that she doesn't care, because she does, a WHOLE lot. She just cares about everyone in a very platonic, dutiful way. And yet, somehow, she gives off the biggest lesbian vibes in the world. Therefore, aromantic lesbian. It also somehow just makes sense to me that casual physical relationships would be easier for her to keep as a crucial member of an international secret organisation. Outside of her own team who is she going to date? She goes to a nice bar and she drinks a scotch and she waits for the nearest femme to take her home only to disappear in the middle of the night. Satisfy some urges, and prove to herself that she isn't an evil monster to the naked eye, two birds one stone. There's no real evidence to her having any sexual relationships (that i can think of anyway) but the vibes just sort of work to me, or at least that she would have them. Sometimes i think she's too much of a loser to ever actually go home with anyone. So, in that respect, I can also see her as being aroace too. She just generally has more important things to worry about and isn't necessarily interested in things she deems so personal and unimportant.

I wish I could beam the vibes in my head directly to you because I'm doing a terrible job of explaining them with words, but generally Maria comes off as a very cold character who actually cares very deeply about those around her and that can hit home for a lot of aspec misconceptions and stereotypes. As far as I know, she's never been in a relationship either, which for marvel comics is practically an olympic feat. In one comic she says Natasha is the person she trusts most in the world because shes lonely too, and that shes the only person that scares her. what is that if not lesbianism aspec solidarity

As for Natasha, well we all know what her past is like, and I don't think it's a stretch to say that she might have some trauma around it. But honestly I just like to think she would always be asexual bc it's fun. She's really the character I have less evidence for, but I'm a sucker for the trope of a character who is sexualised by everyone around her actually being a big softy who would rather cuddle. That woman could count on her hands how many times she's been hugged in her life, I think she'd truly get the most out of a relationship where she is shown innocent affection. She's been treated as a physical asset her entire life and I think she deserves to be wined and dined outside of that. Maybe its just me trying to break her free and projecting at the same time but let that woman be the little spoon.

IDK man, she just gives me vibes. She's a cutie. She's a hopeless romantic thrown into a world of people that think she's hot. She's been forced to live up to a role that feels like an act, and is only able to play it so well because none of it has felt real from the start. Sexuality has always been a game, and she's so good at playing because she's always been outside of it. The second someone shows her genuine romance she doesn't know what to do with herself. She likes to give people flowers.

In terms of dynamics together, I don't actually tend to mix them together in this way, I usually pick one or the other because the fic is focussed on them having a functional relationship. I do, however, think Maria would be very accomodating of Natasha if they were in a relationship with this specific dynamic, because as characters they have a very similar need of wanting to be loved for who they are as a person. And to Maria any sexual drive is always going to be second to a real human connection for the first time in her life.

Honestly, the dynamic should be great for angst but I can't find a way to make it work because theyre very similar characters to me. Even if Natasha needs someone to love her whole heartedly for herself, someone to love her innocently outside of her body, Maria is still going to give that to her. It might not be romantically, but she is desperate for human connection anyway. The worst I can think of is that Maria becomes frustrated with the fact that Natasha wants more from her, whilst not being able to tell her the full extent of her own attraction, so theyre both stuck at a bit of a stalemate. Suffering in silence through their friendship because they both want something the other isnt able to give and both of them are too soft hearted to ever force it

I think that's about all that I've got in the tank right now, so I hope that answered some of the curiosities you had! Let me know if you have any more specific questions, because i'm always happy to talk about them :)

[theoneandonlysemla]

Sujamma Sundas!

Thank you for the tag @skyrim-forever 💞

Tagging: @dirty-bosmer @friend-of-giants @firefly-factory @illumiera @hircines-hunter @lillxart @ladytanithia @pocket-vvardvark @rakaiawriter @sheirukitriesfandom @sanza-17

Topic: This week, Sujamma wants to know about YOUR OC's special someone. What makes their relationship special? How did they meet? Were they enemies to lovers? Lovers to enemies? Lovers AND Enemies? Are they romantic or platonic? What's their favorite way to cuddle? Favorite date night? Anything and everything you can think of 💕

Ohhh, do I need to decide who I'll be talking about here? Can I talk about all my main couples? :P

Let's start with Nevri and Morotar. What makes them special is him being a detestable cunt and her being the one to hit him on the head for it. They actually got to know each other because he saved her and Canmal's life when they were attacked by Boethiah's cultist. Back then he was "a mercenary" and travelled with them back to Winterhold, where they decided to hire him for getting Goldbrand. And while travelling, Nevri did fall for his looks and cunty character and the rare times he can be nice :P (She's vulnerable, okay??) One thing comes to another and after they got closer, everything falls apart. With DwD 2 their story goes on, Morotar has a severe loss of memories but as their paths cross again, he does one thing: he knows her. A lot of pushing away from her follows until they do get closer again (she has good reason for that) while he will utterly fall for her 😩❤️ I don't know how their story will end and what will come of them, but I love to picture them together in a calm future. Anyway, I guess they go like: strangers -> reluctant friends -> lovers -> enemies -> strangers -> whatever the fuck that mess is they are in in part 2 Thinking about it, they'd love to cuddle in a bed and have their peace together and I often picture how Nevri washes his hair and he does enjoy that so much because someone cares for him. Their idea of a date night might be sparring or something :P

Going on with my favourite toxic couple: Ancano and Faralda! These two idiots started out as... let's call it colleagues and the entire thing became a secret work place romance at the College of Winterhold. Until Ancano's toxic ass fucked up big time after gaslighting the shit out of Faralda and cheated on her with Nirya. Nirya does thing she has won, but ... the price is foul🤢 Anyway, they do have a toxic rebound after Ancano got stabbed by a certain Dunmer woman mentioned in the text before. For Faralda is really is the last time this has happened, until she sees him being a yearning mess for her and decides to play with him. Currently, we're at the phase where her sadism really spirals out of control (good for her). As they do not have a traditional relationship, I'd say their idea of a date is a little strange. Ancano would like to have her only for him and longs for her attention. He'd cuddle with her after sex, to keep the appearance that it means more to him but he's not really a cuddler. After he cheated in her, Faralda does want to cuddle with anyone but him :P Her perfect idea of a date is her throwing rocks at him ❤️

And here we are with my most fucked up couple, that is poor Ria and Mannimarco. Hell, she chose the worst man. But my bf likes to argue that Ancano is worse because he's racist and Mannimarco is too egocentric to be really racist 😆 Well, let's see. She is absolute delulu and unhappy in the place she is now, serving a group of men (ew) in a dilapitating fort. And there comes her worm knight in shining armour... or red cloak... to her rescue. He infiltrates her brain until she falls for him and she is absolutely and utterly in love with him. Too bad that he sees her as his little experiment. But that does not hold him back from fucking the lab rat. He's nasty like that ❤️ You could say, it is a very romantic gothic horror lovestory that I'm crafting there and so their ideal date would be basically what I've written in chapter two, just having sex in a fairy ring under the moonlight. And for Manni it may include feeding her corpses and counting how many maggots he can pull out of her orifices. Well... yeah. That's that!

[bloo-the-dragon]

I've been seeing some people express concern for Bloodmoon on this post SO i'm going to throw in some extra context and Bloodmoon lore to clear some things up

Honestly i probably should have done this a long time ago BUT ANYWAYS-

The sudden change for them was very.. shocking to put it kindly. A very drastic change but after the initial shock Bloodmoon is very euphoric - Just happy and whimsical and freed because they're in a new form that just feels right even if they havn't fully come to terms as to why yet.

But existential crisis still boils under the surface and it's not til sometime later that it breaks out.

This is Bloodmoon shortly after the transformation -

- cheery, silly, happy. Sun and Moon arnt worried for too long because they seem happy (and in a way they're kind of flattered that their fae friend decided to take a form similar to their own - they've met many kids who dressed up like/wanted to be like the glamrocks afterall so this isnt too odd for them)

This is when the existential crisis/questioning moment really hits home

(happens while they are out too which only quickened it what with anxiety being around people and all)

Now the reason they changed in the first was because they realised they had fallen in love (platonically) with Sun and Moon. Their shapeshifting specifically is very emotional based and will trigger usually when high emotion is felt. This is the biggest physical change they have ever had however, and the most impactful.

And why did they turn red like the Bloodmoon you might wonder? Well 1. Lunar Eclipse, or Eclipse vibes specifically and 2. Have you ever heard of the red string? ~

But yeah right after the change they would be too caught up in the euphoria of feeling whole and comfortable in a new body and identity to really acknowledge the panic beneath the surface. And the crisis kicks in over time because they had been very much the non-partnering type before and never saw theirself ever truly falling for anyone (again even in a platonic sense)

They would talk to Sun and Moon after this, and while feelings would not be outright admitted there would absolutely be understanding there and acceptance which is all they really need. They become qpp's over time after that.

Also i mentioned in the tags of my last post that this is basically irreversable and thats because the only way it could be reversed is if they stopped loving Sun and Moon (which ofc they could never)

They loved them enough to make them part of theirself - and in a way Sun and Moon do the same when they get tails installed to match (I'm a sentimental sap and tails are fun)

They're robots too so one thing that they have in common with a fae is they can also alter their forms to an extent ;D tho in this case they just wanted to have tails so they could be more like Bloodmoon.

Both parties adopting pieces of each other into their respective selves/identities out of love shared for each other.

The sillies

[bizarre-blues]

Curious about your shoumob thoughts 👀👀

Apologies for the essay I am about to write you. Genuinely it's a self indulgent ship for me- I don't particularly see it ever happening in canon, but the potential for their dynamic is so severely underexplored that it drives me insane- not even romantically, just in general. I honestly get why at a glance it doesn't seem like there'd be much between them, but this is fanon and I'm allowed to pour my heart and thoughts into my favorite characters. Lemme break it up into two sections. Platonic Shoumob (something I could see as more canon based):

Even being platonic, I do think this dynamic would only show up post canon. Like there's a long period of time where they're vaguely in each other's circles but don't directly interact. On Mob's end, I think this is purely because he's got his own life and own concerns. Sure, his younger brother's friend hangs around sometimes, but it's not his business to meddle around in Ritsu's business. This is really well stated in August's post. But to add on a bit:

Mob is a good big brother + trusts Ritsu

I don't see Mob holding a grudge against Shou for the house being burnt down. Did Shou aim to stir Mob's emotions a bit? Yeah, it wasn't right. It was ALSO to protect Mob's family since Shou knew Claw was sending folks after them. With the bodies of the remaining Kageyama family burnt, Claw would not longer be after the Kageyamas. I think after fully understanding this, even if there are bitter feelings Mob would let em fade over time

What about the seventh claw division? Saying he's disappointed in Mob? Beating up Ritsu to lure Mob in so they can both be captured? First off Shou's insult pretty easily rolls off of Mob's back. Secondly, I think it would be very interesting to explore the dynamic of Mob discovering Shou's part in the seventh division. Again, I don't think this would really come up for a long time, long enough that Mob wouldn't really be a bitter mess about it.

If Mob can find in his heart of hearts that Toichiro is someone worth saving, I really struggle to think he dislikes Shou in anyway.

On the other hand you have Shou. I already talked about how I think Shou would feel a bit in the tags of August's post above. Also, I really like to keep this post in mind too when thinking of Shou's view of Mob.

Shou entirely wrote Mob off in their initial interaction. He saw he had power and was unwilling to use it- therefore was taking the side of a bystander. He saw that as genuinely a crime to waste such protentional. Shou was raised by Toichiro, and even without agreeing with how Toichiro used his power, Shou does agree that power is power and must be used in some way. For him, he needs to use it for justice. That's why, in my mind, Shou was so quick to like Ritsu. Ritsu wasn't afraid to use his powers for what was needed to be done to protect people, even if it was an uphill battle he couldn't win.

Cut to their second interaction. Shou's fighting his dad, Shou's losing the fight- it's barely even a fight with how bad he's losing. In waltzes Mob who's entirely different from the last time they interacted. He's prepared to fight, to protect everyone else since he's the only one capable of doing so. Hell, he even told everyone else to stay away since they'll only hinder what he has to do. Suddenly Mob is aligning with the moral code Shou WANTED to see in him to begin with.

That entire interaction is so short, but it's genuinely so important to me. Mob stands up for Shou, he gets angry on his behalf. Who knows the last time someone did that for Shou, and it's someone Shou had entirely written off.

Last time they interact is the confession arc. Shou sees the power Mob is capable of, how his dad is no match for him when he's like this without it being fatal. It even convinces Shou to lay off using his powers (though idk how closely he sticks to that post canon)

Basically you have this development of complete dismissal > admiration for his moral code? > a warning sign to how dangerous psychic powers can be. Which is insane given that Shou's SEEN how dangerous they can be his entire childhood

I feel like it leaves us in post canon with a LOT of potential for how they might see each other or interact. Here's some of the thoughts that have been plaguing my mind.

I really feel like Shou would have this torn admiration / uncertainty about Mob. Mob is powerful, more powerful than his dad, and I don't feel like Shou fully knows Mob's strict moral code yet. I think that subconsciously he might be a lil cautious around him to begin with even if he doesn't outwardly acknowledge that in anyway

They get to know each other and now there's potential to actually chat about some of this stuff. One thing in particular I like to think about is the power level they both have. Idk the exact power scaling of all the Mob Psycho espers, but I'm under the impression that Shou is pretty up there and will likely only get more powerful with age. Shou and Mob, having this kinda power, have taken such opposite views to it growing up. Mob believing it can never be used while Shou thinking it MUST be used. This is what's inspired the comic I'm currently working on that I'm SO excited to finish up

Also??? this might be ooc but the potential jealousy Shou might have of how easily Mob and Ritsu appear to get along once it's all said and done. Meanwhile his family dynamic is... complex. Shou obviously cares about his dad, but Toichiro will probably not see life outside of prison and I'm certain there's just some oddness between them. Between Toichiro calling Shou a failure and using his powers to straight up fight him, I just feel like it would be complex for Shou. It could really lead to some interesting conflict, especially given Shou and Ritsu being besties

IDK !!! OTHER STUFF TOO!!! Between em I just see a lot that could be said between the two of em.

I feel like when I first joined the fandom I didn't really see much between Shou and Mob. Of the four main esper boys, obvious it's easy to see how much dynamic there is between Mob and Ritsu (the entire show hinders on the trauma they share) and between Teru and Mob. There's also plenty of interactions between Teru and Ritsu. Same to say with Shou and Ritsu since the majority of Shou's interactions are Ritsu centered. But honestly post canon I really do feel like Shou and Mob's dynamic ought to be explored a lot more, even if I must do it myself.

Romantic Shoumob (way more fanon based but hey what can ya do, we have fun out here):

As a disclaimer, I honestly prefer platonic shoumob. HOWEVER I absolutely think romantic shoumob is adorable so I will happily ramble about it. Take most of what I've said above and apply it down here.

In my mind I think it would be Shou who ends up with a crush on Mob. Mostly cause of the amount of emotions Shou has towards Mob post canon, I feel like it could easily develop into a real curiosity towards Mob. Thinks about him a lot and oops, now it's a crush

Also hilarious to me cause I don't think Shou would know how to handle a crush no matter who it was. The classic "writes you a letter that says 'get out of my school' in attempt to flirt" dynamic

Except I really don't think that would work on Mob?? Mob isn't dumb but I really just. Don't think he'd get the hint that Shou likes him. Just knows for Some Reason Shou acts a certain way around him. He'd probably assume he did something to offend or upset Shou somehow tbh

Cue Mob attempting to do things to make it up / even directly trying to ask Shou about it which would only lead to Shou getting flustered or trying, yet again, to keep playing it off

Whenever Mob DOES realize Shou likes him back I imagine he'd get equally as flustered in the beginning. Mostly cause we know Mob is such a lover who is super easily flustered in most scenarios. Very much just! Cute to me

Outside of just the puppy love phase I really do think there's potential for such sweet or dramatic interactions. Again there's all the complex parts of the platonic parts of their relationship, but something significant would be the way that both Mob and Toichiro have this insane amount of power and yet opposite approaches to it.

I think Shou would find a lot of comfort in seeing how gentle Mob could be. I'm also a HUGE softy for the idea of like- we KNOW Shou isn't super soft. He wasn't raised that way, it's not his ideals, there's not many situations where I think he'd feel comfortable having his guard down, even post canon. But I like the idea that Shou lets himself be soft when it's just him and Mob.

No pressure to be anything he isn't, no need to be snarky or guarded, he KNOWS Mob ain't gonna judge him, hell Shou is probably the safest he ever could be by hanging out with Mob. It's all so SICKENINGLY sweet to me.

On Mob's end, I can see him enjoying having someone who understands him in some ways yet has such a different approach to life? Mob craves human connection throughout the entire series, and by the end he has plenty of it, but to have someone who he can have deeper convos about psychic powers in particular with I think would be a huge relief. Obviously there's other folks in his life, but Shou's just from a unique background.

Even more, Shou is blunt and upfront about everything. Communication would come so naturally to them. As someone with autism, nothing is a bigger relief to me than a person who just says what they're thinking straight up.

I can really see a fun balance between them as one person who's calm and kind vs someone who's energetic and chaotic. I feel like there'd be a constant push and pull between Mob's side of simple and sickeningly sweetness and Shou's side of outrageous acts and mayhem.

Hope this all makes sense. Sorry for any typos, I didn't proof read anything. Thank you sm for the ask!

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3