#headers can be swapped around :)

[richesthermit]

dbhc Xisuma & Doc discord layouts! ❀ requested by anon rb/like if using & credit me + artist! ┈ art credits : 1. 2.

[masqueradeoftheguilty]

i kiiinda want to do a full rehaul of my blog? maybe for 2024?

like. hm. on one hand im attatched to my animated lynette icon but given that its. only animated some of the time for some reason (and mostly on my laptop for some weird reason???) i might swap it to something else...

[cowsabungus]

Art Hacks for Physical Disabilities!!

I know art can be inaccessible to physically disabled people for a lot of reasons, and I think art should be accessible to everyone, so here’s a couple of the things I found to help for a few different issues you may face that stop you participating!

I have a link to all these items (UK) in my link tree!!

IMAGE DESCRIPTION

Slide one: illustration of a white woman with pink hair, wearing a pink outfit, sitting in a power wheelchair, looking at the viewer with thumbs up. Text Reese “hacks to make art more accessible”

Slide two: illustration of three different kinds, using three different types of pencil grips. One hand uses a circular grip. 100 is a large, rectangular grip. Another uses a grip that is ergonomic and fit into the hand. Main text reads “Paul, grip, strength and dexterity”. Subtext reads “there are loads of different types of pencil, grips or design for different disabilities and conditions. Increasing the width of the pencil can give more texture for a better grip using a pencil with a thicker with also reduces the amounts of pressure needed to hold a pencil you can make your own using items like pool noodles. KT tape an air dry clay. You can also put these groups on things like paint brushes.“

Slide three: illustration of a hand using a tool that looks like a wrist support with a paintbrush connected to it text next to it reads “this talk next a paintbrush to your hand in a way that means you don’t need to hold the paintbrush with your fingers and you will need to move your arm around“ on the bottom right hand corner is in photograph of a guided hand device. Text read “regarded hand as a tool designed to reduce the need for moving your hands and fingers and relies on the movement of your shoulder and upper arms and can be used with different materials like paintbrushes, pencils, pens and styluses.

Slide four: main header reads “when in bed“. Illustration of an iPad pillow with a iPad in it is next to text that reads “iPad pillows, put your tablet at an easier to access level when sitting or lying down“. In the bottom left hand corner is an illustration of a girl sitting in bed in her pyjamas with a pillow behind her and a bed table as she is drawing. On the left hand side is a photograph of a bed table with the text reading “bed tables are used to give you a flat tire up surface while in bed, and are often height adjustable”. In the bottom right hand side is a bedsit, a pillow with the text underneath, reading “ bedsitters of specially shaped pillows that you put behind you in bed to help you set up and give you a soft surface to lean back on”.

Slide five: maisie had a read out “at a desk left”. On the left hand side is a photograph of the document holder with the text “document holders put your paper at an angle to help prevent crane in your neck down”. On the right hand, middle side is an illustration of someone using a armrest and on the bottom left hand side is a photograph of the armrest. Text next to them reads “economic arm rests clip onto your table or desk and give you a surface you lean you’re forearms or elbows on. This can be used to steady your arm and reduce pain and fatigue while sitting at a desk”.

Slide six: maisie reads “foot and mouth painters” . on the right hand side is an photograph of swapping Augustine, an Indian woman with no arms, wearing a sari painting with her left foot. In the bottom left hand corner is an illustration of a woman with green hair painting using her mouth. Text reads “foot and mouth painting is a technique used by artists who do not have, or cannot use their arms so hold the paintbrush in their mouth or using their foot. Swapna Augustine is a foot painter who has painted with her feet and participated in multiple exhibitions of foot and mouth painters. Her art is stunning and I would definitely recommend checking some of help work out.“

Slide seven: main text reeds “art without brushes and pens”. On the left-hand side is a photograph of a spin art device. Text next to read it reads “spin out involves using bottles of ink and squirting them onto a spinning piece of paper to create spiral art. On the middle right hand side is a illustration of a laptop with coding art written on the screen. Text me next to it reads “coding art involves making programs that design and create art pieces digitally. This could be used in conjunction with an eye tracking software.“ On the bottom left hand side is a photograph of a child in a power wheelchair with paint on their wheels painting onto a large piece of paper. Next to this is text reading “wheelchair painting involves putting paint on your wheelchair wheels and moving around and large piece of paper. Sometimes you can connect a roller to create more marks.“

Slide eight: text reads “what do you do to make art accessible for you?”

End of ID.

[airbendertendou]

a small compilation of moments between autistic!reader + connor happy disability pride month <3

anon requested : hi! i was wondering if you could do something with connor and the autistic reader and like them going nonverbal and how he would handle that? You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna! :)

please do not use this as a way to self-diagnose. having one thing in common does not necessarily mean you are autistic. im not a therapist or doctor, if you think you’re on the spectrum, talk to them. <3

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

temperature irregulation ♥︎

hank was a firm believer in a cold house. when the summer season came and brought a heatwave with it, the older man wouldn’t allow anything other than a brisk, chilly living room.

it was often you’d come over to go over old cases and study with hank. interning with the detroit police department was fun — the academy, however, you could live without. you’d learned to dress warm when visiting hank’s house, having a hard time warming up once you were cold.

“here,” a thicker sweater is placed over the couch, the sleeve laying on your shoulder. you take it without thought, swapping your thinner one for the new one. connor smiles at the pattern on your fuzzy socks, the sight of your toes curling in delight at the warmth bringing something tender to his brain. “better?”

you nod with a hum, “thanks, detective.”

hank rolls his eyes, hiding the curl of his lips at your obliviousness. “anyways, as i was saying—”

[interrupted] routine ♥︎

every day at 12:10 pm, you’d wander into the breakroom for a snack and drink refill. connor didn’t mean to memorize your specific regimen — but after watching you do the same thing for a week straight, it stuck to his mind.

you loitered in the doorway to the breakroom, peeking in occassionally to see if it’d emptied out any. gavin caught your gaze, rolling his eyes at your hesitance. it was then you spotted the mug in his hands — your mug, the one you always used. your frown deepened.

connor budged his way into the crowd, bumping into gavin and causing his drink to spill. every curse leaving the human’s mouth went ignored — connor only watched as you cowered away from gavin’s angry steps as he left. grabbing the dropped mug, connor rinsed it four times before holding it out to you shyly.

you crept into the breakroom, grabbing the handle of the mug and shooting the android a thankful grin.

stimming with pressure ♥︎

hank opened the door to his house with a sigh. connor’s eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, questioning the elder silently. hank leans against the door, “[name]’s been here a while, s’all. won’t leave my bathtub.”

a safe zone, connor concludes, somewhere small and compact ; where you could see every corner and every threat. he makes his way to the bathroom without another thought, pausing at the sight of you.

your eyes are closed, face crumpled in displeasure as you clench and unclench your fists in a pattern. connor knocks on the door, announcing his presence without startling you. your eyes fly open, “hello, detective.”

“you can call me connor, if you’d like.” the android steps further into the bathroom slowly, allowing you to object if you need to. your eyes stay on him — his thirium pump stutters in his chest. “anything i can do to help?”

taking in a deep breath, you puff your cheeks as you release the air. “maybe. if you don’t think it’s weird.”

connor stares down at you, his upper lip curled in hesitance as you lay in hank’s bed. you adjust yourself, wiggling around until you’ve splayed your limbs where you want them. you blink up at him, “well?”

“it is a little... strange.” connor tries to be nice, he really does. but asking an android to lay on you — to put their full weight on you — he’s concered. “i will crush you.”

you roll your eyes, “i have a weighted blanket at home ; it’s no different.”

“i weigh quite a bit more than—”

“are you going to lay on me or not, connor?”

maybe it was the sound of you saying his name for the first time ; maybe it was the way you looked so defeated. whatever it was, connor found himself laying on you as gently as he could. the relaxation was immediate — he could feel the breath of relief you let out ; the way your body sagged.

you fell asleep that way — with connor holding his breath and tensing up the closer you got.

sensory overload ♥︎

the scene you were going to was a lot. it was nighttime now, the sirens and flashing lights bringing everyone’s attention this way. hank leaves the car first, grumbling as he goes. the sound that leaks through his open door causes you to whimper.

connor turns his head to you, “everything alright?”

your gaze hasn’t left the window as you squint, blinking at all of the lights. you gulp before biting your lip. “i’ll be fine. this is what i signed up for.”

you’re barely out of the car and already wincing at the noise and the lights. you can’t see hank ; can’t hear or understand anything being said around you. the world is blinking in hues of red and blue, wailing sirens going off with every flash of the lights.

the sound grows muffled as soft and sturdy hands cup your ears. a thumb moves from your ear briefly, just long enough for you to hear a whisper. “close your eyes and i’ll lead you into the house. that’s where the lieutenant is.”

trusting connor’s words — a little too easily — you squeeze your eyes shut. your hands go up to cover his, sealing your ears from the harsh sounds around you. stumbling a little here and there, you eventually feel a difference in temperature as you enter the house.

letting out a sigh, your shoulders moving with the motion, slowly your eyes peel open. you glance at connor, ignoring the tenderness of his gaze. “thanks, connor.”

he lets out a deep breath, ignoring the sly grin hank sends his way. “no problem, [name].” 

verbal shutdown ♥︎

it happened so quick. your safe foods had vanished from their designated cabinet ; your chair’s wheel was squeaking incessently ; hank hadn’t shown up today. everything was piling on and you finally exploded.

the evidence locker was empty as you shakily typed in hank’s password. you hit the wrong button a few times, squeezing your eyes together at the little beeps. your breathing picks up — you hold it in your chest and shake your hands, releasing the tension built inside you.

you all but crawl into the secure room, your back hitting the wall as you sit down. your eyes squeeze shut again and you go through the motions, choosing the less destructive ways to calm yourself down.

none of them work.

when connor finds you, you’re drawing shapes on the floor with your finger. you’ve curled into yourself, not making a sound ; your usual means of comfort absent from your lips. he walks to you cautiously, “[name]? hank has returned. he’s asking to see you.”

you don’t move ; not a sound falls from your lips. connor sits in front of you, crossing his legs as he waits. from his suit pocket comes a ring of multicolored notecards — your eyes flash to his at the sight of them. connor holds them out further so that you can see them properly. “want to use these?”

a miniscule nod, but it’s enough to make him smile. “alright,” he flicks through the blue cards — feelings. stopping at your set of upset verbs, he slides the ring your way. “any of these describe how you’re feeling?”

a shaky finger hits the word overstimulated before dragging over to panic. connor nods, flipping to the pink set — solutions. “what do you want to do? go home ; nap ; have a snack ; get your puzzle book ; coloring book...” connor holds them up to you, reading out each one until you nod — except you don’t. pausing, connor speaks up again, “want me to leave?”

you shake your head. slowly, your hand crawls across the floor until it meets his. you nudge his hand, curling your fingers under his. connor holds his breath, adjusting your fingers until you’re holding hands properly. his eyes stay to the floor, “this is okay, too. let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

emotional regulation ft. lots of crying ♥︎

“connor,” your voice brings him out of his work. standing beside his desk, connor watches as you sway side to side. he tilts his head and it makes your eyes water. “i’m going to cry.”

that was his cue to take you into his arms. connor stands to do so, gathering your body against his and rocking you side to side slowly. your body hiccups a few times, sniffles leaving your nose occassionally. you seem to calm down even more as he rubs your back soothingly — connor’s led light flashes yellow as he stores that information for later.

you pull away with a deep breath, rubbing your face with the hoodie you’re wearing. connor frowns, “better?”

you nod, “needed that. thank you.”

“want to tell me what upset you? only if you want to.”

connor never knew what to expect your answer to be. sometimes you just shook your head and snuggled close to him again. other times, you did talk about why you were crying and it made connor realize the extent of human emotions. 

“no more chocolate in the snack cabinet.”

“had a nice dream.”

“hank is wearing yellow.”

“it’s such a pretty day today!”

“too much noise.”

“gavin cut his hair.”

you let out another sniffle, lips pouting in thought. “not too sure this time. jus’ felt like i needed to cry.”

connor nods to himself, his led light whirring yellow once more. “i’m glad you feel comfortable with me, [name]. i’ll be here if you need another cry.”

you grin, meeting his eyes for a brisk second before reaching out to hold his hand. you swing your entwined hands lightly, grin softening into something gentle. “i know. thanks, con.”

the detective was sure he’d implode because of you soon. just not yet — not when you’re still holding his hand.

——♥︎—— for some reason my brain tells me to only write autistic readers n pair them w connor. like?? work w me here!! anyways. i hope this was okay, remember to take your meds, drink some water and have a nice snack!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[esouliie]

AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

 An angel flung out of space.

 "I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

--

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

 Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

--

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

 You don’t follow her.

--

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient.  The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips.  Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

 Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order...  now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 1)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love--some crushes at least, Babysitter Steve, No Upside Down means slightly still King Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, no smut in Part 1 but liable to be in other chapters

Note: After a very hot and fast suggestion by @shiftingtherain, this mini-series was born. And instead of working on Store Manager Verse like I wanted to, here we are. This part is a little shorter...it's the intro, sue me. Next few parts will be a tad longer.

Credit for the header partially goes to me for the design and the logistics but I was tired, so I may have borrowed gifs from @emziess and Netflix itself as a jumping off point (with permission from Emzies and Netflix is a corporation so they can rot). I can only do so much guys, I also had to write this thing too.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If Eddie never saw Steve Harrington again in his life, it would still be too soon.

He didn't always indulge in rentals from Family Video—if it was too cold and wet to have band practice in Gareth's garage, or if he was having an especially bad week at school, or if he needed something a little more realistic than the illustrations of Heavy Metal magazine to help him satisfy his needs—but today just had that special feel to it.

He'd gotten a B on his math test, Rick had been feeling a little under the weather and let Eddie make the rounds to his usuals for a sweet little cut, and he had found a dusty old book about alchemy and occultism at the library that was going to help him put the finishing touches on tomorrow night's Hellfire session.

For all of that, Eddie thought a little reward was in order.

A little Dark Crystal, a little pizza from Lou's, a little weed...he'd be having the best Thursday night.

Except...

For the past twenty minutes, he'd pretended to hem and haw over the selection of movies just so he could glare across the store at the counter, where Steve stood, flirting and making grandiose promises, with you.

He burned with jealousy, and God, it took almost everything in him not to gag as Steve reached across the counter to slyly hold your hand. And everything else for his heart not to break as you just let it happen.

Eddie didn't know how or when or why this started—when Harrington had gotten his claws into you and how he had managed to charm his way into your heart—when it should have been Eddie instead.

Eddie'd had a crush on you for years but had always been too nervous to do anything about it.

You were a year younger than him, and friends with his pal Mickey's younger sister, so he'd seen you around quite a bit. Smart and funny and pretty; maybe not as unpopular as Eddie was, but certainly not in the running for homecoming court or whatever other social hierarchies were in place at Hawkins High either. He figured...you know, maybe once he got to senior year he'd get the courage. Maybe take you to prom or something; who wouldn't want to go out with a senior?

But he'd gotten the notice from Higgins that he wouldn't be graduating with the rest of the Class of '84 and it really put a damper on his plans.

He had been hopeful again the following year, actually had a few classes with you and sat with you for partner work when no one else wanted to work with him, when they laughed at him. You weren't even afraid to go up to him in the cafeteria to ask a question, or walk with him in the hall if you had to go in the same direction for your next class. You'd talk about assignments mostly, but he savored every little fact he could learn about you. What books you'd been reading, the fact that you watched Svengoolie on Saturday nights—just like he did—or that you'd had some squabble with Mickey's sister over a scrunchie of all things and were no longer speaking.

But Eddie knew how bad his grades were—somehow even worse than the year before—and aside from the work you did with him, he knew it wasn't gonna be enough for him to graduate. So he wasn't gonna put himself in the position for you to laugh in his face—not that you would but...just in case you did—by asking you out.

He thought you would disappear from his life after you graduated. Get the hell out of Hawkins the way everyone else wanted to. But no. You took a few classes at the community college and worked the dinner shift at Benny's a few nights a week. You'd been there every Tuesday night, when he and the guys grabbed food after their gig at the Hideout. The usual booth reserved, drinks already poured by the time they sat down, and their usual orders already written in your little order pad.

You usually gave him extra whipped cream on his slice of cherry pie too.

The guys always urged him to ask for your number...but he never did. How could he? Even if you were stuck in this town the same way he was...he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

And now...here you were, listening to Harrington talk about some great surprise he had planned for your third date the next day.

Eddie wondered why you hadn't screamed in outrage when Steve mentioned how much Nancy Wheeler had liked it when he took her to this mystery place. He would have definitely expected you to at least flinch at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"It sounds really great," you said instead, smiling and nodding. "I get out of class at 3 on Fridays...should I be here around 4?"

"4 is perfect, honey," Steve grinned.

Eddie couldn't stand to hear whatever sickeningly sweet goodbye you both would come up with so he just grabbed whatever tape was in front of him and approached the counter. You and Steve both flinched when Eddie slammed his selections down on the counter to be checked out.

“Uh…I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye Steve,” you muttered, eyeing Eddie with a half-smile that felt a bit sad. “Bye Eddie.”

"Bye honey."

“Bye honey,” Eddie mocked once you were out the door, then turned back to Steve. “You gonna try and make goo goo eyes at me next Harrington? I don’t have all day.”

“Jesus Munson. What’s up your ass?” Steve scoffed, grabbing the tapes.

“I’m just trying to get my videos and go.” Eddie rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Not really interested in the kind of customer service you're trying to provide."

Steve wondered what the likelihood of getting fired would be, if he just punched that smug look right off of Munson's face.

Keith hated the guy too, he always left the Adult section looking like a mess. Maybe Steve would get a promotion instead.

For years Eddie roamed around Hawkins being a general menace with his gaggle of friends. Causing trouble, shouting at people, making faces at old ladies. He’d gotten “taken in” to the police station one too many times but always seemed to make it out without actually being arrested. Which baffled Steve; Eddie was a drug dealer for crying out loud.

And yeah, Steve had even asked him to come and deal at a party or two but…people like that were bad. Simple as that.

Even after all of that, after you got past the “bad boy” persona….he was a fucking nerd. He wasn’t even cool like the bad boys in movies were. Steve felt like someone was tricking him the first time he had walked past the Hellfire Club’s table in the cafeteria. For all the leather and chains and band tees—all the talk of satanic rituals and blood sacrifices—there was sure a lot of talk about elves and…and bards and Star Wars.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Steve that the kids would flock to Eddie by the time they made it to Hawkins High.

But it had been. A huge shock.

His unexpected little gaggle of morons…weren’t really his anymore.

Steve had dropped Dustin off on the first day of school and said “don’t get into any trouble.” Even made Robin promise to keep an eye out for him. He expected the kid to…join the mathletes or something. Get roped in with the science nerds.

But by the end of the week, the kids were all clamoring about how they would need to reschedule movie nights with Steve so they could go to Hellfire club with Eddie.

Steve couldn’t understand it. Eddie was a freak, a punk, some good for nothing…and now the kids were suddenly following him like he was some sort of prophet. Spreading the word of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

See? Steve could do the nerd talk too when he wanted...thanks to Dustin.

Who, much to Steve's annoyance, was apparently Eddie's biggest fan. The guy could do no wrong in Dustin's eyes, and it really irked Steve.

Will and Lucas were spending Saturdays at the library—not for homework, but for research because apparently Eddie really liked incorporating mythology into his campaigns. (Whatever that meant.) Mike was growing his hair out because "Eddie's hair was cool.” What about Steve, whose literal nickname was The Hair? Shit, he'd even seen Eddie give Max a ride to school on a few occasions when he was late dropping Robin off. And he knew Max and her mom had been having a hard time since her step-dad skipped town and Billy...

Steve knew some of the town gossip about Eddie was just a bunch of bullshit...but if Max Mayfield was cool with him?

Yeah, he just couldn't help but be suspicious of the guy.

Regardless, the sooner Steve could get him out of the store, the better his night was gonna get.

...actually...

"That's gonna be $10." Steve announced dryly.

"Woah, $10?!" Eddie scoffed. "I have a membership."

"Since when?" Steve asked, hands immediately landing on his hips.

"I use one every time I'm in here."

"Yeah you use Reefer Rick's."

"So?"

"New policy," Steve lied, hoping it would get Eddie out of his hair for a good while. "No sharing memberships outside of your family. Last I checked, your last name isn't Lipton. So you either cough up the $25 for a new membership Munson, or the $10 for your rental. What's it gonna be?"

Eddie grumbled and dug his wallet out of his pocket, slamming the money on the counter.

"Any candy?" Steve asked mockingly before grabbing the cash.

Eddie grabbed the tape and grumbled under his breath as he exited the store.

Yeah, Steve wasn't gonna be dealing with him any time soon.

For a second though, as he went to start processing returns, he wondered...

If Eddie was in some ritualistic cult...what kind of curse could he possibly put on me?

But that was a dumb thought to have.

Eddie's night just went down hill from the minute he left Family Video.

He didn't notice that they'd given him the wrong pizza at Lou's so now he was stuck with some specialty veggie pie with broccoli on it, the tape he had grabbed indiscriminately had been some artsy foreign romance crap, and just now he'd just spilled Dr. Pepper all over his Hellfire notebook.

"Fuck," he shouted as it spilled over the side of the coffee table and onto his sock-clad feet. He couldn't give a shit about the carpet, he could even ignore his wet socks, but his notebook. Weeks of work, planning and toiling over the most sadistic campaign.

He liked to keep all of the notes of Hellfire's completed campaigns, a sort of...record for future kids to look back on and reference. And now this specific masterpiece would be lost to memory.

He cleaned everything up as best he could before making a quick trip back to his room for an extra notebook or something he could use to salvage his plans for tomorrow's session. He had always been really bad at...keeping spare notebooks on hand. Even the ones he'd used for class always ended up covered in his drawings or notes, little bits and ideas of dialogue he could use for speeches or NPCs.

The best he could find was his math notebook from last year which, surprisingly, sat relatively untouched.

Eddie knew why: that was a class he shared with you. And as he opened to some random mostly-empty page, he saw his little scribbles in the margins surrounding half-faded, penciled-in algebraic equations. Daggers and hearts and his and your initials intertwined together.

It was the one class where he would never encounter partner work with you, so he felt compelled to fill the pages with his daydreams instead of fantasies and lore. You would never see it.

"Well," he huffed as he dropped back down onto the floor and slapped the notebook onto the coffee table. He grabbed his pen and scribbled over the drawings on the page. "Now that she's with Harrington, no use living in this fantasy. Fuck, I was stupid, so stupid to ever think she would want anything to do with me."

He grabbed the dusty old alchemical book from the library and found his place, staring at old sigils and runes and text indiscriminately until he came upon one that looked too perfect for the campaign. Concentric circles, arcane lettering, angular lines...

While Eddie would usually use a clean page for something like this—something he would hand off to his players—he drew a copy of the sigil onto the page and planned to rip the edges off, maybe singe them with his lighter to make it look more authentic.

He kept staring at the still-noticeable doodles beneath the pen scribbles and his heart ached a little in his chest.

Yeah, he would definitely want to burn those too.

By the time he was done copying the sigil, a wave of exhaustion overtook him and he glanced down at his watch.

It wasn't much later than he usually went to bed on a weeknight...

He stared at the half-ruined notes for tomorrow's session that he still needed to rewrite and sighed.

"Fuck it, I'll just redo them in the morning." He got up and stretched his arms over his head. "I can just sleep in tomorrow. Skip class. Show up for Hellfire. Who cares anymore.”

He put the rest of the pizza in the fridge for Wayne and then headed to bed, only to be plagued with dreams of scribbled out love hearts, movie theater candy, guitar solos, and big red gum.

When Eddie woke up the next morning, he felt...honestly felt like he was floating on a cloud. Every muscle in his body felt looser, yet somehow tighter at the same time. His skin felt tighter, like it wasn't right, like it didn't fit somehow, it was suffocating him.

He must have died but he wasn't quite sure if this was heaven or hell.

His eyes burned and blurred slightly as he opened them and what he saw was...unexpected.

Gone were the off-white walls, his posters, the piles of his crap, and that concerning patch of probably-mold in the corner of the ceiling. Instead there was a sturdy ceiling, plaid-papered walls, and matching curtains?

Eddie groaned and rolled over.

What the fuck was this place?

There was a slam of a door somewhere that practically shook the walls surrounding Eddie and as he sat up, he found himself only wearing...briefs? He didn't wear briefs.

This wasn’t his bed, wasn’t his room…wasn’t his… body?

He looked down at his chest, his arms, his hands…his fingers weren’t right, he didn’t have this many freckles and moles, he didn’t have…abs, if that’s what you could call the slight definition on his torso. Still it was more than his body had ever had. His skin…was itchy and mostly hairless.

Eddie reached up and touches his hair—shorter than he was used to, not curly…at all—then his face, as if that was any indicator to what he—

“A mirror!” He exclaimed. His voice…sounded familiar, but different. Fuck what kind of dream was this?

Because it had to be a dream right? It had to be. How else did he wake up in someone else’s body?

He pushed himself out of the bed, walking slightly off-cadence, which…yeah probably came with the territory of your brain needing to get used to a new body. Fuck…was his brain even his brain or did his mind just get transported what was happening?

Ugh it was too early to think about that.

Eddie slowly cracked the bedroom door open and peaked into the rest of the house. He spotted a bathroom just across the way, otherwise…shit, this place actually looked a little familiar. Where the fuck was he? Who the fuck was he?

He quickly crossed the landing into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He heaved a breath and leaned back against the door for a moment to calm himself; his hands were shaking and felt cold. Could he even feel his fingers? Nice to know the occasional nervousness that snuck up on him at his lowest moments hadn’t been left behind in his old body, that they’d followed him to this one.

His body…would it still be in his bed? What if he really had died and…had jumped into his new body? Was this reincarnation?

Fuck, if he was dead…Wayne would find him. Could he even…see his uncle again? How could he ever explain who he was?

Eddie felt the tears prick his eyes and his throat tighten and he slapped his face a few times.

“Come on man, come on,” he muttered. “It’s not that bad. It’s only…mildly awful. Fuck, ok. Just go, just look, just…rip it off like a bandaid.”

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded, then crossed the short distance to stand in front of the sink. He stared at his new feet, wiggled his new toes. You never…appreciated the toes you had until you have new ones.

That was awful and you’re an idiot. Just look.

Eddie closed his eyes again and turned his face up towards the mirror. He could do it. He would do it.

He opened his eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Steve woke up feeling like absolute shit. Everything ached—like he had pulled a muscle or something by sleeping crookedly—he had awful cottonmouth, and he had inhaled…some yarn or something because he woke up coughing and gagging until he got the intrusive strands out of his mouth.

“Gahh, shit, shit,” he said and scratched at his throat. He sounded hoarse. Ugh was he getting sick? He’d have to ask his mom to bring home some soup or something.

Could he call out of work? Shit he had to take Robin to school. She could walk today, he felt awful.

Steve blinked his eyes open and took in the unfamiliar popcorn ceiling with growing concern.

He looked around at the…piles of garbage and the cracks in the plaster walls partially covered by band posters...and felt the rise of panic grow within him. He tried to recall the night before.

He’d wrapped up his shift at Family Video, gone home and had a rare dinner with both of his parents, then…felt extremely tired and went to bed.

So how did he end up here…wherever here was?

This was a kidnapping; it had to be. He was…drugged—explained the cottonmouth—and kidnapped. And now someone was holding him for ransom or something to…blackmail his father? Thomas Harrington was kind of a dick sometimes, sure, but still…he was a pretty decent guy. Who would want to blackmail him?

“H-hello?” Steve called out. “Anyone there? C-can anyone hear me?”

There was some shuffling outside of the door of the room.

Thankfully Steve wasn’t tied up or anything. God, what kind of kidnappers were these? He quickly glanced around the room for a weapon of some sort and he immediately spotted...

A guitar? A few guitars actually. Man these kidnappers really liked music huh?

One was a weird shape--he'd seen some hair metal bands use guitars like that in magazines, but he'd never seen one in person--and was a mottled red color. One was just what you'd expect when someone said "electric guitar." And one was acoustic and looked like it could pack a real wallop.

Bingo.

Steve pushed himself out of the bed and immediately jumped because whatever had been in his mouth was on his shoulders now. He reached up to grab it: hair. Long, wavy, messy...knotty and frizzy. Like it hadn't been brushed for days, maybe weeks?

And his arm, sticking out from whatever t-shirt he'd been put in...was lithe and weak and there were tattoos. On both arms. A creepy claw hand and a bunch of bats.

What was this? How long had they held him hostage for? No wonder they didn't feel the need to tie him up! He'd been knocked out cold.

He needed to get out of here. Now. He needed to get home.

Steve crossed the room to grab the guitar when he noticed it. At first he thought it was another person. But no, it was just a mirror...and in the mirror...his reflection.

Only it wasn't...his reflection.

It had startled him and he had jumped. Then he moved his arms a little and watched the figure in the mirror mimic him. Over and over.

A wave, a turn, a funny face.

He couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke. A dream. A nightmare.

Because it was him, his reflection. But it was not his—Steve Harrington’s—reflection.

It was Eddie Munson's.

[wavyskies]

Art by @/chasticadushi on X (I think some of their art is nsfw/suggestive, just a warnin.)

Guys...guys...you're jokin with me, right? This is incredible...

Anyways, event! Woah, we get to do our own.

Information under the cut:

Info/rules:

- Please @ me so that we can see your graphics!

- This will go from Sep 5th - Sep 9th (obviously you can do this whenever you'd like, though.)

- Any and all graphics are accepted. Stim/moodboards, userboxes, graphics, pixels,.etc

- As for prizes, since I already try my best to give what I can for free, the prizes will just be a little extra! There will be three winners, and if you complete three or more of the four days, you'll be added to the ✨wheel.✨

Third place will be a Tumblr layout, including replycons, multiple header options, and everything that's usually included as well.

Second place will be a Tumblr layout with all that of third, AND a rentry.

First place will be a Tumblr layout with everything for the previous two, and a rentry template that has three extra (decorated) pages.

Prompts

Day one: a gloomy theme with a cheerful character/a cheerful theme with a gloomy character

OR based around a season.

Day two: a male character who would wear eyeliner and/or other makeup

OR the most chaotic character in your fandom.

Day three: an anti-hero

OR an odd looking character that you love (like muppets, simpsons, etc)

Day four: a character that reminds you of your favorite flower

OR your favorite character, swapped with the aesthetic of your least favorite character.

Promo tags...? /NF. Lmk if you wanna be removed (I'm really sorry for putting you all up to this 💔)

@sunkupng @llocket @vamp-q @viniknp @ipcventurine @pinkidol @lavendergalactic

[asuraid]

CARRD TEMPLATE #14: TWINS PICARO / demo / $4

Augh, I've had this one sitting around for a bit, but I really wanted to make a simple Twins Picaro themed carrd with a lil persistent header you swap between + gradients so ... here it is!!

HOW TO’S / INFO

— please do not remove the credit from the carrd regardless of how much you change it / frankenstein it. same case for please do not resell or redistribute it. — comes with a rules tab, about page that has a verse section. — all the images will need replacement, and images may need manual adjustment for size vs content. most should rescale automatically depending on your content. — relatively mobile friendly.

if you have a pro-lite+ carrd account, you can get the template here!  

(if you’d like to upgrade, you can use my referral code ASURAIDART as well)

[wepsi]

I've been wanting to tie you up for a while now ~ Lucifer(nsfw)

Female reader, established relationship

Cw: Shibari

Scenario: After seeing you strung up from the ceiling instead of Mammon, Lucifer seemed extremely flustered.

"Yo can you help me get down from here?"

"And why would I do that? You probably deserved it."

"Pleaaaaaaseee, I can't miss another shift again!"

"Even if I were to agree I can't help you."

"Listen, I learned a new spell from Solomon that will let us swap places, please! Remember you owe me a favor!"

"Ughhhhhh fine mammon, let's get it over with."

Mammon casts the spell, swapping your places. Your perspective went from seeing him bound up, to seeing him free. Mammon looking at the time rushes away, mouthing "I'll save you later". The ropes felt snug but not uncomfortable, wow this must have been painful for poor Mammon then.

You suddenly hear footsteps that only could belong to Lucifer, heart sinking to your... stomach? not sure you're upside down right now. Lucifer walks in, with his hand on his forehead and eyes closed, the stance for a lecture. When he opens his eyes, all he saw was your face stupidly giving him a grin.

Lucifer looked taken aback, what were you doing here tied up?You expected a lecture, but he just looked flustered, struggling to form words. Pulling at one specific rope you tumble down freely, Lucifer turned around to walk away, but you caught his face blushing for a second.

Later that night you were in Asmo's room getting your nails repainted. Remembering the event from earlier that day, you confide in Asmo telling what happened and Lucifer's weird response. Asmo looked up at you, a evil smile on his face,

"Fufufufu so Lucifer's into that~ I guess can't say I'm surprised."

You look at him confused, Asmo didn't seem phased and calmly finished your nails. After thoroughly admiring his work, Asmo pulled out his phone and went through his pictures. Showing you this album of photos, you gasped at the lewd pictures. There was what assumed to be his past lovers in all different positions, tied up in elaborate ropes and knots of all shapes and sizes.

It looked beautiful in a way, the rope indenting and making their soft flesh burst out. It highlighted all their parts, and tied in a way their movements were limited. Asmo seemed happy at your curiosity, his mind scheming up a plan for you. Just for this, tonight he will forgo his beauty sleep and teach you the ropes (get it? XD)

After dinner, you scurry to your room to prepare for your surprise for Lucifer, leaving all the brothers confused. Lucifer walks up to check on you, hoping he didn't make you upset when he walked away from you the other day. He did not expect what he stumbled upon when he entered the room.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh surprise?"

(See header picture for how this scene looked)

You weren't quite done, but have a bad habit of not locking your door. Lucifer came and was thoroughly taken aback, you were bound up foot to neck with the ropes exposing your breasts and your lips. two pieces of rope still in each of your hands unfinished.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Well honey I figured you might be into this from how you reacted before, so I wanted to give you a surprise. Guess it's ruined now though."

You pouted, loosening the ropes in your hand. Lucifer walked to you, helping you untie yourself. You curse yourself in your head, thinking you mistaken the situation. Lucifer's ruby eyes looked into yours, sending a shiver down your spine,

"I appreciate your gesture my dear, but you're doing it all wrong. Accompany me to my room I'll show you how it's done."

Face as red as a tomato, you rid yourself the rest of the ropes, and followed Lucifer to his room. It's not like you guys haven't had sex before, but this was new and exciting, plus you always liked when Lucifer enticed you like that(not that he had to). You hear Lucifer lock the door behind you with a click, your heart picking up pace. He opens a drawer, and pulls out red rope.

"Shall we begin dear~"

You striped down to nothing as he directed. The rope felt a lot nicer on your skin compared to the one you bought on akuzone. He was looping and knotting around your skin expertly, tight enough for you to feel but not too tight to be uncomfortable. You felt your appendages slowly getting bound to itself. The lack of freedom and control made you nervous and excited.

That's how you spend the next who knows how long, silence besides your heavy breathing and the rope sliding against your skin. When you are almost done Lucifer pulls down a secret latch in the ceiling, exposing multiple hooks (has that always been there?) Having your consent from earlier, Lucifer hooks the ropes and starts suspending you. You felt a little scared but you trusted him.

Finishing the final pieces of his art, Lucifer looks at you satisfied. Bringing over a large mirror so you could see yourself.

here is the inspo pose (nsfw)click at your own discretion!

Looking in the mirror you thought you would feel shy, but you felt like a piece of art. The bright red rope highlighting your skin, you could see Lucifer went with a simpler design seeing as it is your first time. You weren't left completely immobile like some of the demons on Asmo's photo album.

Having your legs wide open but not being able to cover it with your hands, or close your legs left you feeling shameful, but your dripping heat would disagree. Looking over, Lucifer was practically drooling over you, face a mix between wanting to admire you and devouring you.

"I've been wanting to tie you up for a while now, you look beautiful dear"

"I'm not sure how I can not destroy you tonight."

There will be a part 2! eventually

..............................................................................................................................

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[alexagirlie]

It's Duncan Idaho and I can fall in love if he lets me

A/N: Part 2 of my lil dune modern au.

Header by me, divider by @cafekitsune

(Series Masterlist)

Fandom: Dune

Ship: Duncan Idaho x Paul Atreides

Rating: E

Wordcount: 4k

Summary: Paul and Duncan see eachother again after months of flirtatious texts and phone calls.

TWs: Sexting. Phone Sex. Sex Toys. Oral Sex. Rimming. Anal Sex. Couch Sex. Wall Sex. Counter Sex. Shower Sex. Morning After. Feelings Realizations.

Taglist: @gatoenlaciudad @almostg @softhecreator

Paul was nervous, which was stupid. It may have been 6 months since he had last seen Duncan in person but they had communicated plenty since their hook up. Lots of texting and calls, one toe curling phone sex session where Paul admitted he had needed to go out and buy a bigger dildo as Duncan's cock had ruined him. Duncan egging him on with talks of making Paul take both the toy and his cock at the same time.

Paul still thinks about that call when getting off. All the wonderful, filthy things they wanted to do to each other. (He couldn't decide what he wanted to do first but who could blame him.)

They weren't exclusive by any means, often swapping stories about underwhelming hookups or a new trick they learned from their latest random. It made him ache for the feeling of Duncan's cock in him, his mouth all over his body.

However this would be the first time they would be seeing each other in person since that first night and Paul had the wonderful idea to invite Duncan to stay with him instead of in a hotel. In theory the idea made sense, no nosy band mates listening through the walls. (Just Paul's neighbours but who cared about them. Let them hear him get railed to within an inch of his life)

They could sleep in, Paul could cook them breakfast… but the reality of it finally happening was making Paul freak the fuck out. (He was a disaster, let's be honest here)

The band should be arriving at their hotel soon and Duncan would be taking a cab to Paul's apartment. They would have time to catch a quick early dinner before heading to the venue. This time around he didn't have to buy tickets, Duncan surprised him with a back stage all access pass so he could come and see them play. As a thank you Paul has a surprise of his own for Duncan after the show.

He was already wet with lube and stretched out, his favourite plug seated deep in his hole. He had several pieces of furniture already in mind for Duncan to bend him over and they would have to stop and prep him first. That seemed like a waste of valuable fucking time. (As it was Paul wasn't sure if he could resist skipping dinner and just swallowing Duncan's cock as soon as he saw him.)

He had just finished stashing additional lube and condoms near all his bucket list areas when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out he saw an incoming call from the very man occupying his thoughts, which he quickly answered. They exchanged quick greetings and Paul buzzed him in, Duncan having already been told which unit number it was.

Knowing there was now only minutes until he would see Duncan, Paul takes the time to do a last minute primping. He runs his fingers through his hair a few times, trying to tame the wild curls, to no avail and straightening his clothes. He was quite proud of the outfit he had chosen for the night. Royal purple, skin tight jeans, matched with a pair of white converse and a slim fit tie-dyed hoodie with a mix of purple, blue and green. Underneath the hoodie he had on a second surprise for Duncan which he was looking forward to revealing at the show.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Paul rushed to answer the door, butterflies going crazy in his stomach and his palms were strangely sweaty. He hoped Duncan wouldn't notice. Opening the door he had to stop and stare for a minute, Duncan looking stupidly delicious in what must be his travel clothes. Hair tied back in a messy bun, an off white warm looking sweater and a pair of black sweatpants. He shouldn't look as good as he does but Paul found himself unable to resist and pounced.

He barely gave Duncan enough time to close the door behind him, showing off the bag from the sandwich place across the street, before Paul is pinning him against the door and dropping to his knees. Belt buckle opened, zipper down and his huge cock out and in Paul's mouth. The length hardened and lengthened against his tongue rapidly. It seemed the bigger man was down with the program.

Paul sets to work and pulls out all the tricks, desperate to bring Duncan off. It doesn't take long, within minutes he has Duncan spilling down his throat. He makes sure to swallow every last drop before rocking back onto his heels and licking his lips, looking up at Duncan through his lashes with a satisfied grin.

"A man could get used to a greeting like that."

Duncan sounded winded and Paul let out a laugh before taking the hand Duncan extended down to him. He was pulled back up to his feet and against Duncan's chest. Duncan's big hands frame Paul's face and tilts it up for a deep kiss, like he was chasing the taste of himself out of Paul's mouth. Reluctantly breaking the kiss Paul pulled Duncan by a hand towards his bedroom so the bigger man could store his bag. Duncan tries to pull Paul down onto the bed but he turns his lover down with a promise of fun after the show.

Time running short, they quickly ate the warm sandwiches Duncan had purchased before ordering a cab. It is a quick ride to the concert venue, barely ten minutes before they arrived. After slipping in a back door they part ways with a quick kiss, Duncan heading for sound check and Paul is set loose to wander around the venue. He does have a couple hours to kill.

As the venue opens to regular attendees Paul makes his way out onto the floor and finds pretty much the exact same spot on the rail as last time. He hopes it will mean Duncan will be able to spot him in the crowd easily. It wouldn't be fun if he doesn't see his first surprise of the night while on stage. He removes and stashes his hoodie, tying it around the railing for safekeeping and revealing the top he had hidden underneath.

The top was a beautiful find, it was form fitting along his front, backless with only a series of straps crossing over his back and shoulders holding it on. The material was black, silky and soft, almost completely transparent with a layer of lace details over top. It left his shoulders and arms completely bare, his tattoos beautifully on display and he hoped Duncan would like it. (Spoiler alert, Duncan loved it)

He definitely turns a few heads, Paul can feel the eyes on him. Can see the looks out of the corner of his eyes. It does make a little part of himself preen, to be noticed by others, to be attractive to them. If this had been any other night, if he didn't have Duncan to wait for, he wouldn't have been above taking advantage of this attention. Concerts were a fun place to find someone to fuck, or at least get a number to call for a hookup later.

As the lights dim, the crowd goes wild Paul refocuses as the opening band comes on stage and begins to play. It was a band he had never heard of before and they were decent enough, but nowhere near as good as The Swords of Gintaz. He wasn't even being biased. (He was.)

The opening bands play for around forty-five minutes and as their final chords and the staff get the stage ready for the main act Paul feels his anticipation level rising. Swords of Gintaz had put out a new album prior to this tour run and Paul was stoked to see them playing the songs live. His growing relationship with Duncan had not changed anything regarding how much he loves this band. Just like the last time, the music moved through him making him feel wild and free. His heart thumping to the beat of the bass. (It wasn't just from the music but he hadn't made that realization yet.)

Duncan looks amazing, as usual, but Paul doesn't focus on that right away and just lets himself enjoy the show. Paul does keep an eye on his lover and so spots the exact moment Duncan sees him, spots the moment he registers what Paul is wearing (or rather how little he is wearing). His gaze is a hot brand across Paul's skin. He leans back as much as the pressing crowd allows, hoping Duncan gets a good look at it. He bites his lip and blows Duncan a kiss.

That little shit. Is the first thought that comes to Duncan's mind as his gaze locks onto Paul form in the crowd. That little fucking tease. Hiding that skimpy piece of cloth that can barely be called a shirt under his sweater. He was wearing it when he was on his knees for Duncan earlier, when he was deep throating his cock minutes after Duncan had walked in the door.

His fingers trip over the keys, fumbling a few chords that he hopes no one notices. Especially one of his band mates, they already teased him enough about Paul. It's one thing to pick someone up after a show, they have all done it, but the rest? The texting and the phone calls and him staying with Paul after the show. If the sight of him was enough to make him continuously fuck up on stage they would never let him live it down. He needed to focus.

The show comes to an end and the band gives their usual thank yous to the crowd before heading off stage. As the hoards of people begin filling out, Paul heads to the side door leading backstage, flashing his pass to security before being waved through. Wandering the dimly lit, narrow halls he finds the changing room with Duncan's name printed on a sign stuck to the door and leans sideways against the wall outside to wait. Paul knew the band had their VIP meet and greet first, then him and Duncan would head back to Paul's.

Paul gets lost in his thoughts, picturing all the things he wants Duncan to do to him once they are back in his apartment. He was already half hard in his jeans just thinking about it. He was so lost in his daydreaming that he doesn't notice that he is no longer alone until big hands grab him around the waist and pull him back up against a broad, hot and firm chest. Duncan's voice was a growl in his ear.

"You're a fucking tease my boy"

Duncan runs his broad hands around Paul's waist then up his stomach to his chest, fingers finding his nipples through the lace, pulling and pinching them into stiff peaks. The sensation went straight to Paul's half hard cock, filling it out until he was throbbing and leaking. Paul reached up behind himself to wrap his hands in Duncan's hair, still damp and loose around his shoulders. He pushes his ass back against Duncan, groaning at the feel of his hard cock and the effect of the motion pushing the plug further inside him, brushing his prostate. (God he was so turned on)

Paul had just leaned his head back on Duncan's shoulder so the older man could run his mouth up the side of his throat, teeth teasing at the collar of his top. They may have escalated even more if someone hadn't cleared their throat from up the hallway and made the two men jump apart. One of Duncan's band mates was standing at the end of the hallway, a look of amusement on her face.

"Get a room lovebirds"

Paul felt his face flush with embarrassment at them getting caught like a pair of teenagers getting laid for the first time. In the right scenario he didn't mind an audience but not like this. Duncan released Paul and stepped around him to grin at his band mate. Calling out a jovial goodbye he grabbed Paul's hand and began pulling him back towards the exit of the venue.

The sky was dark and the air was cold and Paul was glad there were no fans around as he pulled his hoodie on and zipped it up. He did not have the patience to wait much longer, watching Duncan hungrily as he hailed a cab. Soon they were in a car and on their way, the drive was short but tense as they struggled to keep their hands to themselves. No need to traumatize the driver.

They quickly arrived back at Paul's apartment and as soon as they were behind closed doors Paul let out a yelp as Duncan picked him up, pinning him against the door and kissed him senseless. Hands moving over bodies, through hair, unzipping hoodies and unbuckling belts. Paul's legs wrap firmly around Duncan's waist as one of Duncan's hands sneak down into the back of his jeans.

Duncan lets out a delighted noise as his fingers explore between Paul's cheeks and he discouvered his surprise. His fingers press firmly against the base of the plug, pushing it up against Paul's prostate and pulling a groan out of Paul.

"Fuck you had this in the whole time?"

Duncan's voice had dropped to a deep rumbling base and he continued to manipulate the plug until Paul was reduced to a whining, breathless mess.

"Didn't want … to waste time… on prep" Paul was gasping, trying to get the words out "There are a lot … of surfaces … i want you to fuck me on."

Paul can feel Duncan's grin where his face was pressed against his neck, lips and tongue and teeth trailing down the soft skin. His beard a pleasant burn, turning his throat pink and tender.

"You fucking tease"

Paul gets no warning before Duncan is pulling him away from the wall and walking them over to the couch where he gets manhandled face first over the back. Duncan's hips pressed against his ass, pinning him in place as his hoodie got pulled the rest of the way off. Duncan's hands are rough and hot as they drag down the open back of his top. Caressing all that skin Paul left on display.

Broad fingers wrap around the straps keeping the shirt on and give a firm pull, using them to pull Paul back harder against Duncan's cock. Almost as though using them as a handle to move Paul where Duncan wants him. Could use them to pull Paul back onto his cock. (The thought was a very good one.)

Duncan kisses softly down Paul's spine, hands moving around to the front of his body and getting his belt and jeans undone. His pants get pulled down around his knees, Duncan kicking his feet apart leaving his legs spread as far as the pants will allow. Paul can feel the heat from Duncan's body through his shirt against the bare skin of his back. Hands running up Paul's back, over his shoulders and down his arms. Grabbing onto Paul wrists Duncan pulled them together behind him, pinning them to his lower back.

"Keep your arms there. Alright?"

Paul nodded with a moan, grabbing onto his own wrists to lock his arms in place.

"Good Boy"

The praise made Paul moan again, hips grinding against the back of the couch seeking even a little bit of sensation. He can hear Duncan's deep laugh and his hands settle on the straps of Paul's shirt once again. This time getting his hips pulled back away from the couch and making his back arch, ass out. Holding him there as Duncan worked his lips and teeth down Paul's spine once more. He hears the thud as Duncan falls down to his knees, his teeth scraping across his ass cheek.

Duncan kneels behind Paul and pulls his ass cheeks apart exposing his hole which was stuffed with the plug he felt earlier. He gripped the base firmly giving it a slow tug, pulling it out half way before fucking it back in. The action pulled the most beautiful noises out of Paul's throat. High pitched and desperate. He gives the plug a few more slow thrusts before pulling it out completely and tossing it aside. He sinks two fingers in to test the stretch before burying his face there.

He spends several minutes eating Paul out, using all the tricks he remembered from the last time. From all their conversations about likes and dislikes. Makes sure to liberally abuse his tender skin with his beard, leaving Paul's inner thighs red and warm. Keeps going until the sounds coming out of Paul were desperate and begging before he pulled away. Rising to his feet with a slap against Paul's ass cheek.

"Condom?"

"Table"

Paul's head jerks to the left, indicating the small table there, a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube waiting. Duncan quickly rolls one of the condoms on, resisting the urge to stroke himself while he does it, before applying another squirt of lube to Paul's hole for good measure before lining himself up and sinking in. Inch by rock hard inch.

Paul felt amazing around him, hot and tight and oh so wet. It was everything Duncan had remembered and been fantasizing about for months. He set up a slow pace, savouring the feeling of finally being inside Paul again. Savouring the sounds he was dragging out of Paul's throat. (He worked hard to warn those beautiful, beautiful sounds.)

Duncan grabbed the straps of Paul top again and used them to begin pulling the younger man harder and harder into the thrust of his hips. Soon he had Paul begging, pleading with Duncan to let him cum.

"Please Duncan! I'm so close!"

Duncan slowed the movement of his hips, slowed until it was more of a grind then true movement. Grinning as Paul let out a frustrated groan he leaned over to mouth along Paul's shoulder. Between kisses he began to tell Paul exactly what he was going to do to him.

"No. I'm going to fuck you in every room first. Then if you've been a good boy, I might let you come."

Duncan bit back a grin as Paul whined out his complaints before falling silent the longer Duncan sat there without moving. Duncan then proceeded to make good on his promise.

Paul was loving every minute, every second of what Duncan was doing to him. They had quickly pulled apart so they could finish getting undressed before Duncan lifted Paul up in his arms again. He was walked over to the kitchen counter and is laid out over the island before Duncan sinks into him again. Paul raises his arms up over his head, gripping onto the edge and trying to push back into each thrust as best as possible. The countertop cold against his hot, sweaty back.

After the island their next stop was against the wall outside the bedroom. (This was probably Paul's favourite stop, Duncan's strength was a huge turn on.)

Duncan had wrapped Paul's legs around his thick waist and he was buried balls deep inside Paul. The angle and gravity doing wonderful, wonderful things and Paul almost came just from the feeling of Duncan's. His cock was grinding against Paul prostate, his big strong arms holding him in place. The scratch of his beard against tender skin, the scrap of teeth and his mouth latched onto Paul's nipple.

However Duncan kept his promise and still wouldn't let Paul cum, even as he was once again reduced to begging and pleading. (Paul was only a little put out that he couldn't convince Duncan to change his mind. Only a little.)

They finally made it into his bedroom and Duncan has him sprawled out across the sheets. He towers over Paul for a minute and Paul takes full advantage to get his fill of all the skin on display. From his perch between his spread legs, Duncan lets him. Let's him run his palms up his abs, fingers running along his adonis belt, along the thick muscles up to his pecs.

It's only as Paul's hands brush against Duncan's nipples that the bigger man finally moves. Gathering both of Paul's hands in one of his big ones and stretching out, pinning Paul's hands above his head. The other hand sliding up the inside of Paul's thigh, hooking under his knee and bringing his leg over a broad shoulder. Practically bending Paul in half with the size and weight of his body.

Paul's head swims and he lets out a desperate moan, trying to push back against Duncan's hold to no success. The other man has him very securely pinned down. Duncan leans even closer and meets Paul's mouth in a searing kiss. He parts his lips for Duncan immediately, welcoming his tongue to slide against his own. The kiss is slow and sensual and the wet glide sent a flood of warmth through his whole body, ramping his arousal back up to a hundred.

Wrapping his other leg high around Duncan's waist Paul pulls the other man the last few inches needed to have them completely flush together. His huge cock sliding up over the cleft of Paul's ass, over his balls and against his own rock hard cock. This seems to break whatever spell they were both under then it was a quick adjustment of bodies to get Duncan back inside him. Thick and hard and perfect.

This time Duncan doesn't slow down, doesn't stop and when Paul asks he finally says yes. Paul comes harder than he had in months, screaming his pleasure, not caring that his neighbors will be getting an earful. He comes just from the feeling of Duncan's cock inside him, from his cock slamming against his prostate. From the feeling of him pinning Paul down, taking what he wants. He keeps going and going and just when Paul thinks it's too much the bigger man finally stills with a groan and cums as well.

Duncan collapses down onto Paul, blanketing him in warm, slightly sweaty, skin. They laid there unmoving for several minutes, each working at getting their breath back under control.

"You're getting cum everywhere."

Duncan huffs out a laugh between gasping breaths.

"Don't care."

The next morning Paul fulfills the other half of his wishes for Duncan's visit. He wakes up first and extracts himself from the bigger man's hold so he can make Duncan breakfast in bed. (Omelets with veggies and sausage with a side of fresh fruit. It was almost as good as the feeling of sleeping in Duncan's hold.)

After they finished their food they showered together, running soapy hands over each other's bodies. Trading kisses and touches until they got worked up and ended up fucking again. Duncan's hair was a wet tangled mess over Paul's pillows as he rode him until they both found release. (They ended up having to take a 2nd shower but Paul thought it was totally worth it. Plus those pecs were even more glorious slippery and wet.)

It took another 45 minutes and several texts from his band mates for Duncan to finally get out the door. They kept getting distracted with each other, trading touches and kisses.

Paul closed to the door behind the bigger man, leaning his head against the door with a soft thud. He already missed Duncan, his heart hurt. Barely 5 minutes had gone by before his phone buzzed with a text notification. Pulling it out he looked at the screen and couldn't help but let out a laugh.

'Next time we're breaking out that dildo.'

Next time. Sounds nice. Warmth floods his body. Then it hits him. (Shit. He was in love with Duncan Fucking Idaho.)

(Duncan's band mates did in fact end up teasing him about Paul. Again. For the chords he fumbled the night before, for getting caught necking in the hallway with the scantily clad twink. And has he was sitting there, blushing from all the teasing, it hits him too.)

[lordsooga]

Was going through my files and stumbled on some old doodles of a triforce swap au i never finished

In this one, Gan’s got the triforce of courage. He both lost his parents and realized he had the triforce at a young age. He’s told it’s his quest to save Hyrule from the tyrannical Princess Zelda. He’s stubborn and determined to prove that he can be a hero and that he can do this by himself...

Until Gan meets Link, a history and archeology nerd scholar. After meeting Gan and realizing he’s a literal child trying to go out and save Hyrule alone, he says “No. Absolutely not.” and joins him. Gan didn’t exactly invite him along, but eventually he begrudgingly accepts his help. He also likes to steal the snacks Link carries around. 

Not much for fighting, Link mostly helps Gan by using his knowledge about Hyrule’s history and heroes past to help with navigation and solving the temples’ riddles. It’s only later that he realizes he has the triforce of wisdom

Zelda’s the princess of Hyrule who has turned to abusing her political and religious powers. She shows a different face to the rest of Hyrule and claims that she’s blessed with guidance and power from Hylia like her ancestors. But really, she’s turned her back on Hylia and is instead grasping for the triforce of power to fulfill her goals.

(in case you don’t recognize it, this is the meme on gan’s scroll) (ID under the cut)

[ID: Two pages with a series of sketches of an AU Link and Ganondorf. Link is a young, Hylian adult here with long ears, glasses, and a sleeveless vest worn over a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Ganondorf is a young, Gerudo  child wearing a short-sleeved shirt and often seen carrying the Master sword.

On the first page, Link and Ganondorf are seen outside an ancient temple overgrown with plants, outside what looks to be a sealed doorway. Link is reading from a thick book saying “I think if you play a specific song, it will open...” He turns to look at Ganondorf who is fruitlessly kicking at the door and says “...or you could just kick it, sure.” The next doodle shows an injured Link, slumped against a wall. Ganondorf stands in front of him, holding his sword in one hand and throwing out his other hand protectively in front of him. The last sketch shows Link and Ganondorf around a campfire. Ganondorf is sprawled out, fast asleep under a fairy- patterned blanket. Link has his shoes off, peacefully reading from his thick book by the light of the fire.

On the second page, Link and Ganondorf are seen, resting on a log. Link looks down at a scroll draped over his legs. In one hand, he holds a sliced apple. Without looking up, he holds out a slice to Ganondorf who begrudgingly takes it. The next sketches show Links bewildered face saying “Oh dear Hylia, you’re only 10?!” Ganondorf looks up at him stubbornly saying “Actually I’m 11 so shut the fuck up.” In the last sketch, Ganondorf holds out a scroll for Link who looks at him curiously. Unfurly the scroll, the meme attached above is seen. The meme is a screenshot of a facebook group. The name of the group is “As u can see i am only 11 and u are gay”. The icon image is a poorly drawn Knuckles with sunglasses on, and the header image is a car poorly photoshopped to be crashing into a building and exploding. \end ID]

[givemetherapyimawritingtravesty]

Soooo.... Yeah I'm behind. I was out of town for a long weekend but starting tomorrow I'll double post to catch up for not doing so. And also yes I know prescheduling posts was an optitbir you see, I am but a dumb simple man 😂

So, apologies @noots-fic-fests for the soon to be barrage of tags the next couple days 😅 but that you again for hosting and the lovely headers / inspiration images 🤩

Sirius sat straddling Remus’ hips as he lay on their bed, an old sheet strewn over top of all their bedding. Remus had closed his eyes under the warm weight of his boyfriend and heard the soft lick and faint roar of a lighter. He could picture it behind his eyelids; blue and white swirls decorating the lighter as the small flame stood proud. Remus could only assume Sirius had lit the purple pillar candle as the lighter is discarded onto the nightstand to his left.

“Purple was a good choice, the candle wax will look so good against your skin,” Sirius says softly.

Remus opens his eyes to smile up at him. “Yeah? I thought it’d look good against yours too. And it was the least startling colour. Red was looking like blood and black was stark and seemed… I don’t know, intimidating?”

“I think it looked scary, I’m not going to lie,” Sirius whispered, quietly huffing a small laugh.

“Yeah, it did. This was calming and pretty. Felt it appropriate for trying this out.”

“Do you want me to start on your chest? Here?” Sirius reached the hand not holding the candle out to touch Remus’ pec gently.

“Yes. I think I’d rather watch than have it on my back for at first. But I think I’d like it there too once I get used to it. Just tip it a little then pull back, I just want to see how hot it’ll be. Regular ones aren’t all that hot, especially if poured from a distance up like this one says to; plus, this one has a much lower melting point, hence it’s safe for this. More safe? Pretty safe, it doesn’t get nearly all that hot compared t–”

“You don’t have to logic me through it, Re, but if you don’t want to then we can swap places or you can pour it first on yourself. Or we back out and try again or never, those are options too. I’m only into it if you are, I don’t want it to hurt. Let me…” Sirius lifts his hand a dips the tip of his finger into the small pool of wax slowly accumulating around the wick.

“Baby…” Remus starts, watching as Sirius pulls his finger back. It wasn’t a rushed movement and he watches as it hardens into a solid again on Sirius’ skin.

“It’s just extra warm. A bit startlingly so, but not too bad. Like those scalding showers you like.”

“Okay. Okay, then go ahead and do just a dribble.”

Sirius tips the candle slightly before righting it again, a small splatter dripping onto Remus chest as he inhales sharply. “Ooh, okay. Yeah, that’s a bit toeasty, but in a good way. I like it, do a little more, baby.”

Sirius complies, pouring out a bit more on his chest, moving slowly towards the center of his chest before pulling back. “How’s tha–” Sirius stops his words in their tracks as he no doubt feels beneath him how good Remus thinks the wax play feels. He smirks down at him, “I take it this is being added to our ever-growing repertoire then? I like it too…” Sirius trails off, shifting himself against Remus as he smiles back up at him.

[earth-1218designate]

Deadpool & Wolverine #CVReview

At least the Can'nuck's did not kiss ... Is the perfect selling point of this movie. Other than that, for those of us 2000's kids who aren't mindless Disney shills (an odd amount of those in Knoxville,TN , yet they supposedly hate everything else liberals have to offer) that will laugh at every anti-FOX joke Ryan Reynolds had up his sleeve there is a great comic book film here that gives viewers a substantial amount of time with some memorable figures in their toy chest before laying them to rest for the horrors of adulthood that await them outside the theater.

I'm not into the nepotism that got Blake Lively the role as Lady Deadpool, or the gender swapping of Dogpool or Kidpook from the early 2010's "Deadpool Corps" comics, but it's easy to overlook that when the rest of the cast boasts the return of Wesley Snipes ("Blade") , (*childhood crush over that bousteir) Jennifer Garner ("Elektra") having a one-one with Callisto ("X-Men The Last Stand"), and Channing Tatum finally getting screen-time as Gambit for a film of his that never made it out of development hell.

I like the bow this film puts on that era that was dear to my formative years and made for an excellent companion piece to the books I still read today as I cross the threshold into my 30's. Marvel Comics and films have been synonymous since I was in diapers, and for a large part I have FOX to thank for that, and Disney to thumb my nose at - not the other way around like backwards normie euro-audiences are led to believe.

The nods to Wolverine's legacy in this film were superb : "Deadpool & Wolverine" is essentially built around the premise that Wolverine carried the FOX universe (aka Earth -10005) and he gets cameo appearances of his comic book counterparts such as Patch, AOA-Wolverine, Hulk No.181, Uncanny No.251, and even Fang.

All this homage while riffing on Wolverine's height and Hugh Jackman's singing chops as well as questionable morality when Disney money is brought to the table, it's a wonder why a film with Deadpool as the lead on the header isn't more about Deadpool, but it is and it delivers by making Deadpool one of the most annoying characters in a Marvel feature - which he is SUPPOSED to be.

While Wolverine is taking on Sabretooth and pulling out "Drill Claw's" straight from "Marvel vs. Capcom" (Earth-30847), Deadpool is making tone deaf homoerotic jokes that get less of a laugh than on Eminem's latest album and praising socialism in a few barbs that will zip right over capitalist consumerist audiences heads like the Rob Liefeld and Stan Lee easter eggs hidden in the battle against the Deadpool Corps featuring the worst excuse for a Deadpool ever ... Deadpool 2099 !

When "The Marvels" teased this film with Beasts' appearance, I really was nervous and expected very little. But I am happy that this film turned out to be a funeral for the best Marvel films purely off nostalgia - set to corny Euro-pop music (Madonna, Nickleback, and NSYNC get prominent placement all on the soundtrack of this action flick) while providing a gorefest with glory kills and brand new utilizations of slow motion that Zack Snyder is no doubt jealous of.

I've seen alot of clips loaded in action films as a movie buff, but I've never seen a clip loaded the way Deadpool did to face off against Wolverine in 2024 - and that's what the MCU was aiming for and delivered.

Cassandra Nova was a pleasant and surprising toy to pull out the Marvel toybox, I'd be remiss if I didnt say that. Cheering for her, the TVA, and the more baser and nihlistic stances of all the characters was a testament that Marvel raised me right - even though many people might think those of us who read comics keep our heads in the clouds.

No, "Deadpool and Wolverine" shows the world that even people who cosplay in a yellow and blue Wolverine suits can get pissed off at people who think it's okay to make decisions off of "educated wishes".

Yes, the film is still Disney-related and with it's ending featuring Deadpool still simping for Vanessa, amongst other things that make Deadpool unlikeable in this film, "Deadpool & Wolverine" is the worst Deadpool movie. But, with the nostalgia-fest added in thanks to Wolverine and the rest of the MCU rejects, "Deadpool & Wolverine" stumbles it's way into the MCU, but still falters behind far superior films like "Black Widow" or even "The Marvels" directly before it.

All that self-deprecation and self-referencing can get as old as Blake Lively before she decided to settle down with Ryan Reynolds.

Greed was a big factor in making "Deadpool vs. Wolverine" and seeing Reynolds' name all over the credits with Shawn Levy, made we wonder where did Tim Miller go? Because I know if he would have been along for the ride "Deadpool vs. Wolverine" would have been a worthy cap-end to the Deadpool franchise, than just used as a segue to eventually ret-con the X-Men into Earth-19999.

Which all the nostalgia from being a 2000's kid in the world cannot hide "Deadpool vs. Wolverine" from being that cheap. Even "Madame Web" had more tact than that.

-

C.V.R. The Bard

25th Jul. 2k24

[dielukedie-subaru]

Since there has been some interest in my current intake, here is it broke down. I have tried numerous setups but this custom OEM+ version is the best and passes stupid SMOG visual check.

I also intensely studied the 2.5RS forums and looked at dyno charts showing that this IS the best when combined with a 2.25" cat back exhaust and equal length headers. Trust me!

This was a lot work as well as trial and error and willingness to start over again and redo it again several times. I think this was also the lightest combo if you trying to reduce weight.

One of a kind custom intake for the naturally aspirated Subaru EJ25D....

First up is you need the intake tract/duct and hoses from an earlier model Subaru Impreza or any Subaru that has this intake tube vs the stock version with the "torque box" behind the throttle body. Junkyard is your best buddy.

I had expensive high performance mandrel bent blah blah blah intakes which I constantly struggled with keeping the metal tubing cool (I used a laser temp gauge). This plastic is basically the same but rarely gets too hot to touch. So, actually a cold air intake if you keep reading.

Since the entire manifold needed to come out, I painted it wrinkle red and polished the runners and throttle inlet.

The reason I removed the manifold was to install stainless studs to make installing the 10mm thick teflon spacers and 2 sets of gaskets easier. Similar to 8mm Grimmspeed phenolic (previously installed) but thicker. This mod makes a big difference, the entire manifold now stays cool. No more engine block heat soak, only ambient engine bay heat.

"For every 5 degree reduction in temperature, increases power by 1%"

You have to extend the EGR tube and possibly grind your ignition coil pack mounts lower. Because the entire manifold assembly will be sitting ~12mm higher.

I was fortunate enough to work with the gasket maker. So he made 10mm teflon intake manifold spacers and a matching prototype 10mm throttle body spacer! Again 2 gaskets to ensure no leaks. Not sure if these were ever made available afterwards since I was the first car.

This spacer combo increased plenum volume as well as helped to keep heat transfer drastically reduced.

Using my custom ported, polished and knife edged throttle body that I did myself with the coolant hose permanently bypassed and the cruise control bits removed. Keep in mind you will need longer bolts if you use a spacer here. Definitely improved throttle response after just the throttle body swap.

I scored this GC8 v3 factory resonator/cold air intake inlet from the UK. It's what goes with those fender plugs. Grabs cold air from inside the fender behind the corner light up high, so no chance of sucking up water. FWIW, You really shouldn't just delete the "snorkus", seriously, it's just gonna mess up your MAF sensor.

I was also able to make the resonator from a SVX work in the 04 Outback with some persuasion. It too takes air from the same location but the box was hard to cram in the fender.

The intake tract will work with whatever air filter box but in order to use the EUDM WRX intake inlet/resonator you will need the matching filter housing box from an earlier model or have to drill a new mounting hole. You will need both halves!

BEST panel filter on the market IS made by Grimmspeed! Don't waste your money on any other filter! I also added a Filter Wears waterproof inlet cover/pre-filter to the resonator just incase of water spray. The factory option fender plug fills that hole.

And I'm not sure if this was an upgrade or not but here is the JDM JECS MAF I am also using. Used DEI gold heat reflective tape to keep it cool and extend the life. Possibly more consistent/accurate readings?

The only other things installed are a Weapon R catch can to the PVC, which DOES keep some crap out of the intake tract and off the throttle body but probably no real performance advantage. Plus a heat/flame resistant "sock", same as around my fluid reservoirs, over the bendy/flexible bit of the intake tract just after the MAF. That area is prone to splitting/cracking with heat and age!

Now for treasure at the end of the rainbow! I am actually gonna give you nerds the mother fucking part numbers! These can be life savers when searching for parts.

*You might have to make or reuse your PVC, crankcase, IAC valve hoses. So grab whatever is attached if your at the junkyard or hit up the auto parts store.

•Subaru PN's:

Intake duct/tract (EJ22): 14457AA111

Air filter housing/box: A53FA02 (upper) & A53FA01 (lower)

Fender resonator/snorkus (UK WRX): A21FA03 or A32FA01 or A21FA00

Fender plug: 46059FA000

•Grimmspeed PN's:

Dry-Con Air Filter: 060092

Intake manifold spacers (8mm phenolic): 015001

[dynamic-swap-au-archive]

Hey uh, this is the only social media I use and I did not realize my deleted tattoo post was making rounds again. Can someone please enlighten me to what it's being used for elsewhere ? I'm flabbergasted

@danielpowell

oh ! would this be the post you're talking about? [Link]

I'm honestly pretty surprised myself, I haven't tagged anything yet so I didn't think that anybody would have noticed that I was doing anything over here yet.

it's not being used for anything, as far as I know! I've just been working on making this blog an archive for the gorillaz dynamic swap/dynaswap au! it's just been me looking through old reblogs and what little was saved to archive dot org to find what's able to be found!

your blog was actually one of the ones I'd searched ! it took me a second to realize why I recognized your username, but your header is too cool to forget ^^

I've been preserving old fanart as well, especially fanart that was reblogged or directly submitted to the dynaswap blog. which is why I saved the tattoo sheets. I'd found both of them through reblogs of the original uploads, I hadn't even realized they were deleted at the time.

in the case of me uploading one of them myself, originally I hadn't been planning on making this blog, I was just interested in finding it personally (for myself, and for a few of my friends who'd been interested in the au when it was active). so when I went back to reblog what I'd seen before I couldn't find the other tattoo sheet again for whatever reason.

that said ! I was also planning on making a section for character references once I get around to finishing my guide for the au, and I thought those tattoo sheets would make a nice reference for artists if they're having trouble trying to figure out how they want to do the tattoos themselves. but that hasn't happened yet !

[pandiongames]

Banda's Grove Overhaul Devlog - Design, Maps, and Terminology

Why are we overhauling Banda's Grove? See here: https://www.tumblr.com/pandiongames/711176177895735296

This will be a series of design deep dives. We want to share not just what we're changing about the game, but why we're changing it. Perhaps it could help someone in the future. I'll be using "#banda's grove overhaul" tag in each post if you would like to follow along.

Page Design

Check out the images if you want an idea of what Banda Grove's current rules are. This isn’t final text in the v2 image by any means, but we’re walking down the path of making new master pages for layout.

A Refreshed Color Palette

The background color is lightened up, and the vibrancy of all the colors is increased just a little bit for further contrast. We played around with changing the palette completely, but after a couple of hours of going back and forth, we decided to tweak the existing one because it feels unique and iconic to BG now.

New and more fonts

We stuck with Oil Can as the header and title font after looking at a ton of different options. This is a special font for me because it is no longer available from Lost Type co-op and hasn’t been for almost a decade now. Back when we started this project, I emailed them to get reconfirmation of a commercial use. I covet and backup the .otf file religiously. That certainly increases the likelihood this will remain a unique look.

But for the body text, we’ve swapped out Courier Prime with three fonts, two of them are on display here. The Paragraph is Bitter from Google Fonts, while the in-game handwriting is KH Sober Draftsman from Kern + Hide.

The callout boxes (post-it notes) in the game will use Ultra-Classified by Kern + Hide - this wonderfully jaunty typewriter/newsprint type of font.

We will be working with columns where it makes sense, but there will be a mix.

This is all to give the book a cleaner, easily readable interior. Previously, I was using different colored callout boxes to differentiate between “in world” notes from Ranger Murie, and game text. Now, however, we can represent that by font styles, which keeps the pages a bit more tidy.

The rectangle and pink triangle in the header is an anchor design and be used throughout everything to tie things together.

Maps, Mapping, and Hexes

We’ve been working the last few days on the mapping system in Banda’s Grove. Please note, things are still influx, and may change more.

Mapping in Banda’s Grove has been tedious at best from the very beginning. It originally had a tetris-style chunk of hexes you could lay down on a massive hex grid. That was replaced with a simpler 19 hex flower, and you started by building out 7 of them to start. But each individual hex also had its detail map of another 7 hexes to track little details. This was a lot to manage, to say the least, and made online games dang near impossible.

I had a big conversation today with another designer on the purpose of a hex on a map, and Banda’s Grove does not have any travel or time mechanics tied to traversing a hex. It is not a hex crawl or point crawl. The purpose of the map is to draw, sketch, and laugh together when you talk about the worlds you’re building.

So, we are getting rid of hex grid and detail maps entirely.

Instead, we are working on implementing a single free form map, plus a shared notebook. We’ll still provide a themed map, but players can also just use the biggest piece of paper they can get their hands on to draw the twisting, winding, Planes converging at the Grove. Players still draw together with Jamboard, Figjam, tldraw, aggie.io, or Miro for online games, or ignore the map aspect completely.

We’ll provide tips on how to setup your shared notebook or gdoc and offer optional templates in PDF and .gdoc formats. We’re investigating other online worldbuilding tools to build templates for them as well.

This change has an additional upside: We can remove an entire technical term from the game, reducing jargon and confusion.

Before, we used the word “Fragment” to denote we were talking about a hex tile in general, and “Plane” to talk about the biome and culture on that Fragment. The word Fragment has now been completely removed from the game, and we only have Planes.

As an example, Maps in Banda’s Grove will become more free form like this, rather than the more bounded hex grid style. And no, I cannot draw. This is why I hire artists!

And this actually opens up some interesting possibilities for using mechanics to add limits, encouraging players to use the Convergence Event move, which also risks adding blips to the map, which in turn causes more narrative friction.

I’m playing with limiting the number of facilities you can build on a single Plane - we have to make sure we don’t overcrowd the environment! However, now a Convergence Event can add a new Plane you come up with yourself, or expand an existing Plane (you still need to roll to see which Plane is extended). Extending a Plane doesn’t add any new overhead to your note-taking now. You just continue adding details and notes under the “Cluthar” section.

When blips occur, you still roll a pebble over the map, and the Plane it lands on becomes shrouded in primordial darkness and is unavailable until mended.

Actions, Phases, & Quantum Events

First, let’s discuss a quick term rename I did. We mistakenly used the name “Action” to represent the special abilities of a playbook, facility, or downtime phase that cost a pebble to use. These are now called Moves. This will free up the word “action” for another mechanic to reduce confusion further.

The other piece I’ve been working on is how Phases work. Phases were always meant to represent the passage of a week, but their naming and how I implemented them muddled that, and it was… confusing at best.

I’ve always had this idea that the “Downtime” phase was the weekday, that’s why you have 5 actions to take. One for each day of the week.

The Update Phase was supposed to represent Sunday Evening, when you’re settling in and taking a moment to prepare for the weekday.

And the Quantum Event phase, was meant to be the weekend, a time of adventure, and shenanigans around the campgrounds.

The phases and quantum events have been renamed to reinforce that weekly cycle concept fully:

The Weekday - You take 5 Weekday Actions. You can spend pebbles to perform Weekday, Playbook or Facility moves, or have slice of life roleplay scenes to gain pebbles.

The Weekend - This is when you go on Weekend Adventures! Time to get into and out of trouble, help peoples, and discover hidden mysteries.

Sunday Night - This is the time to settle in after your big adventures, take stock, reduce your dice, and prepare for the Weekday.

Even though these are just terminology changes, they help reinforce the concepts of the gameplay loop, what it means, and connect the mechanical concepts together better.

And speaking of the Weekday Phase, we have simplified the “Downtime Actions” (now called Weekday Moves). Before, you had Downtime Actions. Some were nestled under a “Grove Projects” action, which itself was several possible actions. Wow, that’s confusing. That is all rewritten and organized, so there’s no nesting. Just a list of comprehensive Weekday Moves now.

Because The Weekend is a cleanly defined phase of free form adventuring and roleplay, but with the limitation of not being able to use Weekday or Facility moves, I can also organize gameplay better.

The biggest one here is Events (previously “Festivals” & “Special Events”, also simplified). They were always a free form adventure. They were designed as roleplay heavy, low stress, celebratory “Quantum Events” with boons and bonuses for your efforts - they have an introduction, complications, and your reward for participating.

But, they didn’t really fit in the Weekday phase’s gameplay, where they currently take place. But that’s where they had to live because The Quantum Event Phase was for Quantum Event. As written, it didn’t leave room for anything else.

Now the Weekend is a phase of adventuring where you just can’t use Weekday or Facility Moves, only your Playbook Moves, inventory, and wit. By default, a Weekend Adventure takes place - either one we wrote, or one you create.

However, now an Event can replace that Weekend’s Adventure. There are some Facility Moves that also initiate Events, like putting on a play at the Stage. That will take place during the Weekend in lieu of a Weekend Adventure now as well.

All these little tweaks and changes are to streamline and organize play, reduce jargon and drastically increase clarity.

Until next time!

-Andy