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#i don't make the rules it's canon
sinfullyrosey · 1 year
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Rollo, glaring at Malleus: What could you possibly see in such a wretched creature?
Yuu: . . .
Yuu: Hey Hornton, remind me again the difference between gargoyles and grotesques.
Malleus: *starts info dumping about gargoyles for the billionth time*
Rollo, a fellow gargoyle enjoyer, blushing: Oh no-
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unclewaynemunson · 6 months
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Pt2 to this post
'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.
It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.
Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'
'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'
Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.
'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'
'What happened?'
He sighs. 'It's complicated.'
'Wanna tell me about it?'
The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.
But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.
He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.
'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.
Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.
'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'
'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.
Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.
'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.
'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'
She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'
'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'
She nods. 'Okay.'
For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.
'Is it Eddie?'
Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.
'Wha- what?'
'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'
'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.
Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'
Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'
'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'
'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'
Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'
To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.
'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'
'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'
'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'
'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.
Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)
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spindrifters · 9 months
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me: hm, I've never actually looked up what sirius's tattoos mean
the internet: the big tattoo by his sternum is the alchemical symbol for amalgamation, which is linked to the gray wolf
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fioleespring · 2 years
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remember when episode 6 made this canon
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lofan · 2 months
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Sci-fi shows + tenderly holding your lover's hand in medbay
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strangersatellites · 1 year
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It had all started in Photography 101. 
All he had needed was one more elective added to his schedule for the fall semester to be considered a full-time student. It was Robin who had suggested photography.
Steve had never had that great of a memory to begin with, the numerous blows to the head from juvenile high school fights certainly doing him no favors. Sometimes the amount of time it took to jog Steve’s memory surpassed the time it would’ve taken to simply tell him the story as if he hadn’t been there himself. 
He was always able to grasp the memory eventually, but sometimes they were slippery in his mind. 
He and Robin had found that his memory was ten times better if he had something to look at. Sometimes that was a souvenir from a trip, sometimes it was a takeout menu with his order circled in red pen, sometimes it was a physical scar on his skin from some silly injury. But most of the time it was pictures. 
Steve took to taking photos of everything. His friends, his food, the landscape, a book with a pretty cover, anything he wanted to be able to remember.
The walls of his room grew to be covered with polaroids and prints, some staged, most not. Many blurry and out of focus, but in the moment just the same. 
So when Robin suggested Photography 101, Steve saw an opportunity to take something he did for his own benefit and turn it into something he really enjoyed, something he was good at. 
The semester was a breeze and Steve flourished under the attention of his professor. He was constantly drowning in compliments about the movement in his photos and his eye for composition. 
(Robin would tell him on several occasions that she had never seen him enjoy something this much.)
By the time the semester was coming to a close, he was left with one final project. The professor had been intentionally very vague in her description of it throughout the semester, so Steve was a little on edge. 
Sitting in the front row of the small classroom, he twirled the strap of his camera around his fingers while he daydreamed. The room slowly filled and the professor settled in behind her desk. 
About five minutes after class was supposed to have begun Steve noticed they were all still sitting in silence. Glancing at the professor he saw her brows furrow and a frustrated lilt to her lips as she looked at her watch.
What are we waiting for? 
She stood and dusted off her pants before clapping her hands together.
“Well,” she began, “I guess we can go ahead and get start–”
The door at the back of the room swung open and knocked against the wall with a resounding slam.
“Shit! Fuck! So sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.”
Steve is so caught off guard by the man who just burst into the room that he barely even registers the words he’s saying. 
He’is tall and all lanky muscle, dark curls and jewelry, tattoos and the smell of smoke, chains and leather and everything Steve’s not. Everything nobody in this class is.
He’s even more caught off guard when his professor laughs and pulls the man into a tight hug. There are only five other students in this class, surely he’s not the only person confused.
He keeps an arm around her shoulders as she introduces him to the group.
“Guys, this is Eddie. He’s a family friend and he’s going to be your subject for your final project.”
Steve’s own eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand how this was the project she has been keeping under wraps. They’ve had plenty of portrait sessions this semester, with models and subjects of their choice alike.
The guy, Eddie, claps a hand to his chest in a dramatic show of faux humility. 
“Thank you for having me, Joyce. It's such an honor to be here.”
She smacks at his arm and carries on.
“So, Eddie is your subject and you have no parameters. The only requirement is that he is the inspiration for your shoot. This can look like a standard portrait session, this can be contemporary urban street photography, whatever you like. Eddie does not even have to be in the photo! He just has to be the inspiration for it.”
Steve's brain is already running a mile a minute, conceptualizing shots faster than he can keep up. 
Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.
But one idea sticks out from the rest. As Steve lifts his eyes to Eddie once more and meets his own twinkling with mirth and smirking back at him he makes his decision.
He’s going to take his mugshot.
*****
“I want to take your mugshot.”
They’re at the campus coffee shop. Joyce had scheduled a few hours for Eddie to meet with the other students during their class time so they could talk through their projects.
Eddie barks out a laugh. “What, man?”
Steve twirls his straw around his drink and tries not to bristle at the reaction.
“Look,” he starts, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I don’t really know where the idea originated but once I had it, it stuck. I just saw this vision of the shot in my head and it was sick, dude.”
Eddie leans back in the booth, one of his boots knocking into Steve’s foot under the table. He crosses his arms and tilts his head. 
“Thought this shoot was supposed to be inspired by moi,” he says, gesturing a hand towards himself. “You saying I look like I should be in jail?”
Steve groans and puts his head in his hands. “No. I already told you I don't know where i got the idea–”
But that’s a lie isn’t it. He knows exactly where he got the idea. It was somewhere between the chains dangling from Eddie’s jeans and the handcuff belt he was wearing the day they met.
He put his hands together on the table between them. “Okay. No, I’m not saying you look like a criminal, Eddie. I’m saying I think you want to look like one.”
Eddie blinks at him for a moment before his face breaks into a slow smirk. He huffs a quiet laugh and leans closer. “Guilty as charged, Stevie. Besides, I was arrested once actually.”
Steve gawks while Eddie laughs. He is unfairly attractive when his dimples pop and Steve is going to have such a hard time holding it together behind the camera. 
*****
Steve takes his shoots very seriously. Every detail has to be perfect, even the ones not relating to the subject of the photo.
So it is wildly convenient that his professor happens to be married to the chief of police back in Hawkins. 
One quick phone call from Joyce and Steve and Eddie were granted access to the booking room at the police station. You know, for the sake of realism. 
Steve’s setting up his tripod while Eddie takes a chalk marker to the placard and writes up his own booking ID, a long series of random numbers with E.M at the end. 
Steve would be lying if he said Eddie’s choice of clothing wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. 
He’s wearing a ratty, old band t-shirt for some group Steve’s never heard of. There’s his usual black leather jacket and the silver chain around his neck. His ripped black jeans and fingers covered in rings and black nail polish. 
It's perfect for the shoot. But Steve’s sanity is struggling.
He gets the camera and the lighting set up just as Eddie steps into place in front of the height measurement wall. 
Steve puts his hands on his hips and gives instructions.
“Okay, so I know you’ve done this before–”
“Hey! It was one time!”
“So you know how this goes. We’ll do one forward and then one to each side.”
Eddie shakes out his hair and rolls his shoulders back. He holds the placard up in front of him and levels the camera with a dead-eyed stare.
He looks good. 
Steve is less than shocked that he looks even better on camera.
He lines up his shot. Click.
Eddie turns to his left. Steve gets a little distracted by the line of his jaw.
Click.
He turns to the right and of course only now does Steve notice his ear piercings. 
Steve takes a deep breath and focuses.
Click.
Before he can even look through his shots Eddie is dropping the placard on the desk.
He’s halfway out the door before he grabs the frame and leans back in. “One second pretty boy, I have an idea.”
He’s back before Steve snaps out of his stupor at the nickname. This time, he has a pair of handcuffs swinging from his index finger.
Steve snatches them out of his hand. “Where did you get these?”
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “I know a guy.”
He rolls his eyes. 
He’s already picking up the placard and setting up some detail shots when Eddie grabs his wrist and stops him. He freezes for more than one reason.
“Hey, uh. Not to step on your toes or anything, but I actually have another idea.”
Steve is about to start on his spiel about ‘not messing up his flow’ when Eddie rubs his thumb over the inside of his wrist. Gentle and reassuring. 
“Do you trust me?”
Honestly Steve has no reason to trust him, he’s basically a stranger.
A pretty one. His brain supplies.
But he does. Trusts him enough to let him take Steve’s creative liberties and throw them out the window apparently.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Eddie’s smile is blinding. He turns Steve’s hand over and drops the handcuff key into it.
“Don’t lose this big boy,” he says as he snaps the cuffs around each of his own wrists.
Steve laughs, loud and shocked. He waggles his eyebrows at Eddie. 
“Well, now didn’t this take a turn.”
Eddie rolls his eyes this time and lifts his hands as much as he can.
“Don’t try to sexualize my creative prowess, Steve. I am a professional.”
He nearly trips on his way back to his place in front of the wall and Steve has to hide his laugh into a cough.
Steve’s back behind the camera, hands back on his hips when he asks, “Alright, what’s the plan?”
Eddie smiles and says, “You just shoot, Harrington. I’ll do the rest.”
He leans down to finalize his camera settings and line up his shot. When he finally looks through the viewfinder his jaw drops. Because while Eddie was clearly joking about being a professional, if Steve didn’t know any better, this shot would have him believing it.
Eddie’s got both of his pinky fingers tucked in the corners of his smile, tongue bitten between his teeth. His thumbs are raised along with his middle fingers, while he’s got his nose scrunched and one eye squeezed shut. The cuffs hang right under his chin and accentuate his silver jewelry in a way Steve never would have anticipated.
Click.
Click. 
Click.
The next is a close-up of the booking placard between his teeth.
His hands twisting to unlock his own cuffs.
He’s a natural, and Steve’s camera roll can attest to the fact.
It wouldn’t be until Steve was reviewing and editing the shots that he caught on. The booking ID on the placard looked long because it was. It was Eddie’s number.
*****
Steve got an A. 
He got an A, an endless stream of compliments from Joyce and a dorky hot boyfriend. 
The rest of the class went the route Steve expected them to.
Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.
But Steve’s mugshot series stood leagues above the rest.
Later in their lives, when one of their friends would see the photo in Steve’s wallet they would ask when Eddie got arrested and why.
It quickly became a game between the two.
He’s been arrested in high school for selling drugs (True.)
When he was twenty for public indecency.
At twenty-two for arson.
Thirty for contract killing. This one was followed up with the claim that he was in witsec and was now going to have to change his identity and flee the country.
But the real when and why Eddie got arrested is because when he was twenty-one Joyce told him there was a nice boy in her class that she thought he should meet.
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guakamole · 24 days
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Lots of cute shuggy art coming your way so be prepared !
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aithusarosekiller · 2 months
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Mary is scared of cats so her and Lily never get one but Lily LOVES them, meaning whenever her wife goes missing, Mary immediately knows that she's broken into James and Reg's house to fuss over their two cats like a doting auntie
She has a spare key so she can go and see them whenever she wants even if they're not in
Every so often they'll go over to have dinner as a four and her and Reg will end up on the living room floor with the cats while James and Mary catch up in the kitchen
Mary: I'm going with Cas to see Marls and Reg play this weekend, to want a ticket?
Lily: nah, I'm seeing my babies
Mary: you're missing Regulus' semi-final match to go and fuss over his cats?
Lily: yup
Mary: you're missing Marlene's semi-final quidditch match? She'll kill you
Lily: ...yeah, on second thoughts-
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sheerakk · 1 year
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Garth, thank you for existing
@assigned-k9 thank you for creating her!!
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rotisseries · 1 year
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I will headcanon every fictional woman EVER as a lesbian. every single one. except max mayfield. she is THE most bisexual to ever bisexual. congratulations to the brothers duffer for making me fully, completely, and actively believe in her attraction to men
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5aph0 · 6 months
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SHADOWZEL SLOW BURN "Your queen turned on you, and my Goddess turned on me. Perhaps we have more in common than we dare admit to" You can get rare additional dialogue you can get if you wait until late Act 2/Act 3 to speak to Shadowheart about her attacking you in the middle of the night in Act 1. (Related to Enemy of Shar path/Orpheus Path) "At least I know I won't find you atop me the middle of the night now. I mean.... Nevermind, lets consider the matter settled." 5 minutes later:"Don't you dare stop."
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ogjujunwa · 1 year
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Her: You better not be thirsting after a multi-millenia living continent
My goofy ass:
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quickreaver · 2 months
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Feeling spicy today...
So you got this "SPN fandom polls" account that gives no shits about any sort of earnest outcome; all they want is to block Sam fans and "win" any poll that frontlines Dean, Cas and Destiel. Like, why not just make all your polls Destiel-centric and distribute only to Destiel shippers, if what you really want to do is pretend Sam doesn't exist? Oh, wait, it's to piss off Sam fans and start ship wars. Ahhh, okay. What are you? Twelve? This one is particularly hilaribad, given that canonically, Cas is the third wheel. Literally, anyone that comes between Sam and Dean is eventually third-wheeled, once the show's writers are done with the drama, but Cas was third-wheeled in text. On the show. Like, legit. We gone done knew that a good chunk of D/C shippers think third-wheeling Sam is adorable. It's all over their fics. But does it really feel like actual success to win a rigged poll?
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If you've gotta cheat to win, you aren't really winning. Go write your fics, my babies. That's what they're there for. You're not gonna change canon, as much as you try. Alternative facts? Yeah, nah.
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canisalbus · 7 months
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are you okay with folks writing about your guys? i know they're very personal to you!
I'd consider it an honor! They are very personal to me that's true, but it always makes my day/week when people draw gift art of them, and I find written works comparable to that. If you end up writing something and posting it somewhere, please let me know, I'd love to take a look as well.
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icespur · 2 months
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Incorrect Quotes Akeshu #82
(NSFW Below!) Akiren: Akechi, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as rivals, right? Akechi, naked in Akiren's bed: No, I absolutely do not. Akiren, already taking off his clothes: Fuck... Me neither.
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whump-on-a-string · 4 months
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His name is Dallan and he suffers frequently but always springs back from it. Lives in a not-super-historically accurate fantasy victorian-era-ish inspired world with magic, elves, werewolves, vampires, etc. :)
Will take your coat at the door and then serve you tea.
I posted some whump art of him and was not anticipating any number of reblogs but since it's gotten more than like 5 notes I will share some more info on my old blorbo. He's usually my go-to character if I want to draw something whumpy.
I made him in 2011 for RP with a friend & the poor bastard's been shot, poisoned, & has had attempts made on his life at least twice because his friend (my RP pal's OC) had a lot of enemies after him so Dallan tended to get caught up in all of the chaos. ...If anyone wants to make silly OC blorbos together feel free to hmu.
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