#lending to all sorts of shenanigans

[doctorbrown]

Everyone in the X-Men universe has the story of how their powers first awakened/manifested and Doc's would absolutely be something along the lines of because he wasn't allowed to have a pet, he took to feeding one of the friendly stray dogs around Hill Valley when he was a boy and some of the local bullies (probably the Tannen of his generation, lbr) doing as the delinquents of the time did, started going after this dog and without thinking, Emmett is rushing forward to save his little canine friend and just full on stops time, lowkey panics but not enough to stop him from grabbing the dog and bolting as far as he can until the effect wears off, leaving the bullies very confused and extremely freaked out. And so begin the rumours, naturally.

And no, he absolutely cannot tell his parents, especially not his father, but young Emmett knows something is up with him so now it's time to start sneaking off and doing some sneaky scientific experiments to figure out just what the hell that was and how he can do it again/control it.

[comicaurora]

Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.

That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!

If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?

Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.

Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3

You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-

Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.

In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.

I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.

Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-

Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.

It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.

And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."

Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.

It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.

[azureseacloud]

Hidden Messages

Ghost (Band)

Part 5

Dewdrop x reader

Words: 4839

Warnings: swearing, shenanigans, ✨ghouls✨

So, uh, I know it’s been a while but I finally finished this part and I honestly don’t know what happened but somehow it is double the size of the others (oops). There goes my attempt at keeping them all the same length 😭

Not sure when the next part will be out, but I am riding the strong wave of hyperfixation that I got from watching the ghovie, so it will hopefully take less time than this part.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and if you want to chat about ghost or the ghovie or anything really, shoot me a message (I don’t bite, unlike the ghouls ;)

Thanks for your support, love you all <3

Taglist: @gummy-dummy

@viylikescats

@ghoulettess

@starwalker3001

Striding hurriedly through the corridor, you grasped the cup of fresh coffee tightly. Its warmth seeped into the palm of your hand as the strong aroma hung in the air.

Tucked under your other arm was your laptop enclosed on a folder containing the last documents that you had finished last night. You rounded the corner, ducking down the next left and knocking on the first door with your free hand.

“Come in,” Sister Imperator’s stern voice sounded from the other side.

You opened the door, trying not to drop the laptop precariously held under your arm.

“Good morning, Sister,” you greeted her as you made your way over to stand before her desk.

She sat in her chair, a set of glasses perched on her nose. Her greying hair was done up in a tight bun with a few loose strands falling around her face. The suit she wore was a smooth grey.

“Morning. Do you have everything that I asked for?” She replied, her voice stern. That was how it always was though, and it was the one word that perfectly described her entire demeanour.

“Right here.” You handed her the folder of documents. “And I emailed the rest of them as well.”

Sister nodded as she flicked through the pages, skimming each one. Your eyes wandered around the room, scanning over the various novels and grimoires stuffed into the dark bookshelf that took up most of the room.

Practice started in ten minutes, and you were hoping this meeting would be short. You could have had extra time if not for Cirrus, who hadn’t wanted to let you go just as Dewdrop had the morning before.

Ghouls were so much like cats.

It was a similarity you had marked several times throughout working with them. Although, when you had brought it up to Phantom one time, he’d vehemently denied it, even though he’d literally been purring loudly right before you said it.

“Did you sort out the issue with the venue?” Sister asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, they needed an extra few forms filled out for the pyrotechnics. I filled those out, just waiting now for their confirmation, which we should receive some time today.”

She nodded, finishing flicking through the files. “Excellent work.”

“Thank you, Sister.” You smiled graciously.

“What are you planning to do today?”

“I was going to watch the ghouls and Papa practice. But if there’s something you need my help with, I’ll gladly lend a hand.”

Sister Imperator’s gaze roved over you. It always felt like she was somehow seeing through you and into your mind.

“No, that’s fine.” She looked back down at the papers again, shuffling them, before glancing back up. “The ghouls seem to be very fond of you.”

You blinked, unsure what to say. “Yeah, they seem to like me.”

Sister’s piercing eyes moved over your face, as if analysing your thoughts and feelings just by taking in your features. A chill ran up your spine before she ended the brief silence.

“Don’t ever forget that they aren’t like us. They aren’t human, no matter how convincing they may seem.” Her words were etched with warning. “I’d hate for you to get hurt. You’d be so very hard to replace.”

You nodded respectfully, her words and their possible meanings running through your mind.

“You may go.” She waved a hand, and you hurried out of the room, holding your laptop tightly under your arm. Was she trying to warn you?

Or was that a threat?

******

They were in the middle of a song by the time you made it down to the rehearsal room. The muffled thumping of the beats and the sweet cries of guitars could be heard through the walls as you beelined for the door.

Pausing with your hand on the handle, you took a moment to collect yourself. You were already aware that Dew was going to be out for your attention, just as he had yesterday. Perhaps even more so.

But he wouldn’t be the only one. All the ghouls became “absolute attention whores”—as you had heard the siblings of sin describe it—when on stage. And today, there was only one person to focus their antics on.

Why did you agree to this again?

Before you could get too caught up in your thoughts—or think back to Sister Imperator’s cryptic words that had been stuck in your head the entire walk down—you twisted the handle and opened the door.

The music washed over you in a loud wave, the blaring sounds of guitars, drums, keyboards and the vocals belonging to Papa and his ghouls filling your ears. Music was always so much more magical when it was performed live, and you were already tapping your fingers against your thigh in time with the beat.

You closed the door behind you, eyes darting immediately to the stage. Dew was staring straight at you already, deftly playing his signature white guitar. He tilted the guitar to the side, flashing the ‘You Suck’ sticker on the back in way of greeting.

How wonderful.

Flipping him off in return, you tore your eyes off his figure (holy shit that cape!) to slide over the other ghouls as you made your way to the front. Cirrus waved from her spot, flaring the blue of her cape. You shot her a thumbs up, clapping as she did a little twirl. Aurora waved as she and Cumulus sang the backup vocals into the same mic. Swiss flashed his (slightly creepy) smile, giving a delicate wave that quickly turned into him motioning ‘come here’ with his two fingers as he swayed his hips to the music.

Phantom stole your gaze then, stepping in and swinging his guitar under a leg while still playing. Behind him, Rain gave you a friendly nod, which you returned with a smile.

All of them looked amazing, the satin blue adding a splash of colour that contrasted wonderfully with their black uniforms. It gave them all a regal air, and you could see that they seemed pretty thrilled about the accessory.

You stopped halfway down the rows of benches, leaning against one as you waited for the song to finish, unsure where to sit. It was slightly daunting having them all focus on you like this.

“Cry all you want, but there’s not a single fucking thing you can do about those goddamn Rats.” Papa Copia hissed out, his bright blue jacket practically glowing under the lights.

You were nodding along until the song finished, the final echoes of the guitars fading.

“Hello lovely Sibling,” Copia greeted, speaking into the mic. You smiled back, waving shyly. “Come closer, we don’t bite—well they do but I’m sure you’re used to that.” He laughed at his little joke, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

Copia was always a friendly face, with his cheeky jokes and eccentric quirks. He was very different to all the other papas, but you liked him. He’d made you feel comfortable when you had first arrived here, and that was something that you were always reminded of when you saw him. He still checked in every now and then, ensuring that his ghouls were treating you right and that Sister wasn’t working you too hard.

“It sounded really good,” you called up at them as you made your way to the front. You forced your eyes to stay on Copia, even though you wanted to look at the ghoul to the right of him. You’d have plenty of time to admire Dewdrop later, you reminded yourself, although you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to give him that satisfaction.

“Ah, thank you my dear. It will be nice to have someone in here to perform for. We all have a few new tricks to test out.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, getting a laugh out of you as you sat down in the front row, slightly to the right.

Papa grouped the ghouls together, probably discussing the order of songs or those ‘new tricks’ he had mentioned. After a moment they all returned to their positions as Copia vanished somewhere up the back, most likely to make a grand entrance for the next song.

Your gaze flicked to Dew as he stepped over to the very edge of the stage, looking down at you in a way that had shivers racing down your spine.

That was a view you could get used to.

Your eyes began tracing his figure, stopping to admire certain points—the way he held the guitar casually, how his hand wrapped loosely around the neck, his fucking gorgeous boots that you had always been so jealous of, and the way his jacket clung to his form. Then there was the cape. That fucking cape. The buckle clasped across one side of his chest like an insignia, the blue spilling out over his should—

You stiffened, snapping to realisation of where your thoughts, and your eyes, had travelled to. Fuck.

Looking back up sheepishly, you could feel the ghoul’s cocky smirk, knowing he would have been watching you the whole time. Darting your eyes back to the front of the stage, you cleared your throat, kicking one leg over the other and leaning back in the seat, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Aw, don’t get all shy on me, my dearest.” The smug edge in his voice was unmissable. “There’s no need to be embarrassed for liking what you see.” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the subtle heat that had settled in your cheeks. Or at least, you hoped it was subtle.

“Relax Dew,” you lightly called up to him. “I was just having a look at the new cape. Cirrus has been telling me all about it.” And it certainly looked fucking amazing on him, but you weren’t going to say that. “Believe it or not, not everyone wants to fuck you.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew that you had just set yourself up.

The ghoul cackled, leaning over the stage to look down at you. “Wrong, sweetheart. And the way you can’t keep your eyes off me tells me that you definitely do as well. All you have to do is ask, lovely sin, and I’ll show you just how much you’re missing.”

You stared back up at the ghoul, mouth falling open. You heard him huff a laugh at your reaction, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. Before you could protest—or keel over and die from what he had just said—Mountain’s drums echoed out and just like that, the music started.

You instantly ripped your eyes away from the cocky ghoul, pinpointing Cirrus who was jumping around at her keyboard. She waved and you managed a small wave back. But even without your eyes on him, all you could think about now was that fucking fire ghoul and what he had just said.

Unholy shit, did that mean he knew how you felt about him!? Had your reaction just given it away? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe he was just messing with you. That was all, right? He didn’t actually want to fuck you—did he? What if he did?

More importantly, was he aware that his words had literally just short-circuited your brain? Deep fried it? Baked and roasted and toasted? The rehearsal had barely even started and he’d already got to you.

You snapped out of your spiralling thoughts as Copia reached the microphone just in front of you, his voice pouring out the lyrics to Call Me Little Sunshine. You could hear your frantic heart thumping against the beat of the drums, as you tried to focus on what Copia was singing, and not those other thoughts that were fighting to overrun your mind. You had to pull it together.

Then that ghoul waltzed smoothly into your eyeline, his fingers skirting along the frets of the guitar. Unbidden, a picture rose to mind of him running those fingers along your body, as his mouth—

Nope, you were not going to think about that right now.

You shifted in your seat, catching the smug tilt of Dew’s head, as if he was aware of the turn your thoughts had taken. You exhaled, recovering your composure, and returned your gaze to Copia.

“You will never walk alone,” Papa sung, his beautiful ghostly voice and intense eye contact giving you chills as you watched with awe. “You can always reach me. You will never ever walk alone.”

“Call me!” Swiss, Cumulus and Aurora’s voices rung out, hauntingly beautiful in their harmony. Swiss smiled at you again, flashing those brilliant white teeth, and you smiled back.

The performance really was amazing, especially being this close to the stage. You’d gotten the job a few months ago, in the middle of their break, so you hadn’t really had the opportunity to see them perform, except for the occasional event at the clergy. But that usually ended with you in the back of the crowd, so watching them today was a whole different experience.

Dew crossed your vision again, this time pointing at you as it reached the chorus again, then making a ‘call me’ motion. Rolling your eyes with a smile, you watched as Rain cut in front of him, languidly reaching his ringed hand out towards you. You reached out as well, your hands too far apart to touch.

Then Phantom pushed in front, leaning backwards over the stage, his upside-down goggled eyes staring at you. Rain and Dew both grabbed the Quintessence ghoul before he fell, pulling him back on the stage as the song ended. You giggled as Rain steadied Phantom, while Dew just gave him a smack on the helmet.

Once they’d sorted that out, Dewdrop stepped up to the front and launched straight into Square Hammer. The three guitarist ghouls were in front of you as they began on the opening, Dew leaning back with Rain. Phantom joined them for the next part, all of them stomping in unison.

You really wanted those boots. Maybe you could steal a pair off Cirrus.

As Papa’s voice began, Dew threw a pick at you. Somehow, you miraculously managed to catch it before it hit your face, raising an eyebrow at the ghoul as he swaggered back to his side of the stage. You slipped it into your pocket, hiding the smile it brought to your face.

It went on like this for a while as they went through every song on their set list. You were bobbing your head and tapping your fingers with the beat, singing along with them. When Cirrus came over for her solo in Mummy Dust, you loudly cheered her on, both of you blowing kisses at each other.

On the other hand, Dewdrop was certainly out to get you. Aside from his usual movements and charm, he was definitely putting on a show for you: hovering on the edge of the stage right above you, running his hands along his body slowly in a way that had your heart racing, licking his fingers and even the guitar, plus a whole lot of other innuendo gestures and actions he seemed to fit into each song.

You were certain the little gremlin was making sure that you were looking in his direction whenever he did any of those actions. It was driving you crazy—and although you tried your hardest to pretend otherwise, you were sure that some of your reactions were noticeable. Worse, you almost couldn’t take your eyes off him, and your thoughts kept spiralling as much as you tried to shut them down.

But by Satan, you were loving it.

Toward the end of the rehearsal, during a short break, Cirrus hopped down the stage and came over to you.

“How are you going?” She asked with the hint of a smile in her voice. You were sure your face said it all—you were practically buzzing with energy.

“Fucking fantastic,” you answered back, nodding at her cape. “You were right about looking absolutely stunning.”

“Aw, thanks gorgeous.” She did a small twirl with it, then grabbed your hands and pulled you up to stand. Staggering at the unexpected movement, she used her grip to steady you.

“What are you doing?” You asked as she began leading you through the seats to the left. There was a little corridor there, which you assumed led up to the—oh no.

“Bringing you up to play with me,” she answered with a wicked grin as your mind landed on the same conclusion.

“Uh Cirrus, I don’t think—“

“You’ll be fine.” The corridor was small and closed off from the rest of the rehearsal room. She led you through it, her hand still firmly on yours. “So, how’s the show?”

“Really good. You’re all so amazing. And the capes are just breathtaking.”

“What about Dew?” She asked, giving you a teasing side look. “Better than those videos I keep sending you?”

“Is that even a question you need to ask? Of course it’s better.” Cirrus laughed at that, a giggle escaping you as well while your cheeks heated.

“Mmm, I thought so from the way you’ve been staring at him.”

“Shut up,” you whispered back at her. “I just can’t help it, and I think that maybe he’s noticed.” You weren’t going to repeat the words he had said to you at the beginning—you would tell her that later, when you weren’t in the same vicinity as the fire ghoul.

“You don’t say?” She gasped, sarcasm heavy in her voice as a smirk tugged at her lips.

Fuck, if that was Cirrus’ reaction then you had definitely not been subtle.

Just then, the corridor opened up into a cozy backstage area, with velvet carpeting and a set of red couches to the side. There were a couple mirrors fitted with benches—ready for last minute and mid-show adjustments, you assumed. A large rack of clothing was beside one of the couches, hung with what looked like Papa’s various outfits.

Copia was there, getting changed into his signature red jacket. He looked up as you walked in.

“Ah, are you going to join us for the next song, lovely sibling?” His eyes lit up as he asked.

“I don’t think I really have much of a choice,” you answered, as Cirrus tugged you to the front of the room. Before Copia could reply, you were out onto the stage. She brought you up to her platform and only let you go once you’d reached the keyboard, as if she suspected you might try to run away.

You looked over the stage, taking in the view of the empty room. It was admittedly a little daunting, being up on stage like this, even without a crowd present.

Yeah, maybe running away was a good idea.

“Finally come up to play with us?” Swiss called from his own platform, a hand caressing his mic stand once again. You were sure that ghoul had been a stripper in hell—if the mic stand was swapped out for a pole, you didn’t think there would be much difference.

“Yes,” you replied, nodding your head as Cirrus draped her arm around your shoulders. “I am totally not a hostage right now.”

Swiss snorted. You thought you heard another laugh, spotting Phantom as he joined the three of you.

“I see Cirrus has brought us an unwilling victim,” Phantom joked, sliding his pick along the string. You heard the sound of another guitar join the echoes of Phantom’s as Dew began playing his own solo. Even from the distance, you could see his fingers moving insanely fast.

“Show off,” Cirrus commented, squeezing your shoulder pointedly. You didn’t miss the way Swiss looked between you and the ghoul currently shredding his guitar, a smile slowly growing on his face. He opened his mouth to say something just as Papa walked out.

“Are we all ready?” Copia’s voice was barely audible over the sound of Dew’s guitar. He propped his hands on his hips, glaring at the oblivious ghoul until Rain grabbed his shoulder, stopping the fire ghoul and gesturing over at Papa.

“I said,” Copia began, this time speaking into the mic, “are we ready? Three, two, one!”

They jumped right in to the next song. It only took a few seconds before you placed it—Kiss the Go Goat.

Cirrus’ energy was contagious, and it wasn’t long before you were jumping around with her. The two of you danced around the platform, Cirrus letting you play the very few notes that you remembered from when she had taught you, while she easily covered the rest that you didn’t.

As she moved her fingers smoothly across the keys, her other hand pulled you to the mic as the pre-chorus came close. You shook your head at her, but she just smiled and drew you closer.

When it arrived, the two of you sang into the mic together, Cirrus smiling widely. You grinned back, pushing away your doubts as you shyly sung the next backing vocals along with her.

You almost didn’t notice Dew stopping by Swiss’ platform, the multi ghoul crouching down with him. Your eyes were immediately set on the two ghouls. What were they up to?

Dew stepped away, catching your stare. He started sauntering your way, stopping just in front of the platform. Tilting his head, he exhaled, smoke slowly seeping out of his helmet.

Oh. Unholy fuck.

The fire ghoul walked back a few steps, still watching you, then turned back around, returning to his spot on stage.

While you were still processing that—and how fucking attractive it was—Cirrus gave you a sharp jab in the ribs and you jolted back to reality.

“He definitely knows,” she said in your ear gleefully. “He did that just for you.”

You swatted her hand away, scowling at her. She grinned teasingly, leaning back into the mic with you as the next pre-chorus arrived.

“Please youuu,” you both sung, blending your vocals with those of Swiss, Aurora and Cumulus.

As soon as the chorus ended, Cirrus launched into her keyboard solo. Standing back to give her space, something brushed against your arm and you twisted around to see Swiss. He held out his hand, waiting for you to take it. You rolled your eyes, placing your hand in his and letting him steal you away to his platform while Cirrus was distracted.

“Having fun?” He asked, handing you his tambourine as he swayed along to the music.

“Of course.” You tapped the instrument along as the keyboard transitioned to guitar. “You guys have the best job in the clergy.”

“Actually, I think you have the best job.” Swiss leaned in closer. “You get to admire us all day.”

You smacked his arm playfully with the tambourine, the ghoul’s teeth gleaming in a teasing way as Dew’s solo came to an end. You kept in rhythm as best you could with the Tamborine, as Swiss handled the back up vocals.

Your eyes caught the shine of a white guitar as Dew threw a pick at Swiss. It bounced off his goggles, the multi ghoul making a rather suggestive gesture to Dewdrop in return, thrusting his hips against the microphone stand.

Dewdrop’s attention switched back to you, and he pointed at his chest.

“He’s the guy you wanna do,” Papa sang. Dew moved his hand, holding up two fingers. “And you know that it takes two. Luckily, he wants to do you too.”

You watched as Dew tilted his hand and curled his two fingers smoothly toward you, in a motion that couldn’t be mistaken in any other way.

Then the charming ghoul blew a kiss, before strumming out the ending of the song, twisting with just enough force to have his cape flare behind him in a dramatic image that you would mentally save in your mind.

And then he was walking away once again, Phantom tilting his head curiously as he watched the other guitarist leave.

Swiss tapped you on the shoulder, and you ripped your eyes away from the fire ghoul, mentally trying to smooth your expression.

“What?”

“He’s definitely got it out for you today,” Swiss smirked. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this feral before, especially at rehearsal.”

“No he doesn’t,” you replied back, offering the Tamborine to the multi ghoul. He took it, shaking it at you.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He flashed another smile as Dance Macabre began. “But that ghoul definitely wants to bewitch you all night.”

You let out an exasperated sigh in response, rolling your eyes at the multi ghoul as he snickered at his own joke.

The next two songs went by rather quickly. You returned to Cirrus’ platform, where Aurora and Cumulus visited to sing and dance along with you. Surprisingly, there were no visits from Dewdrop this time—which was good, because you weren’t entirely sure how many more you could take. He was all over your mind, and you were finding yourself subconsciously looking in his direction every few seconds, which didn’t go unnoticed by Cirrus.

As the last song finally ended, Copia turned around, doing a little ‘ta-da’ motion with his hands as the last of the guitars faded out.

“So, how did we do, lovely sibling?”

“You were all perfect,” you called out, giving him a thumbs up.

Papa clapped his hands. “Excellent. You were pretty perfect yourself, no? Thank you for joining us today, it’s always better to perform to an audience instead of an empty room. Now, I do believe I am wanted by Sister, but the rest of you can continue without me. I want you to do one more run through.” He began to walk to the backstage then paused, putting a finger up.

“No shenanigans.” The warning seemed to be mainly directed at Swiss and Dew. He gave them each a pointed look, then made his way off the stage.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You quickly checked it, spotting a few emails from the venue that you’d sent the pyrotechnic forms to last night. Instead of clearing it, it seemed like they had a few more concerns that you would have to address. Yay.

“Are you staying here with us?” Aurora asked, tapping her hands together.

“I would love to, but it seems like this venue has some more forms to fill out,” you sighed. “Thanks for letting me join though, it was a lot of fun. I love your capes!” Aurora and Cumulus both did a twirl, the smaller ghoul giggling as they gave you a hug before returning to their platforms.

Cirrus simply gave you a knowing grin that told you she would be teasing you all about Dew later. You sighed.

“I’ll see you later.”

“You definitely will,” she sang back.

You had a quick (and super subtle) look for the fire ghoul as you headed to the back of the stage. You couldn’t see him, and it wasn’t until you reached the doorway of the backstage room that something grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around so your back was pressed against their chest.

“Looking for me, dearest sibling?” He purred in your ear, the warmth from his body seeping into your skin.

Heart racing, you didn’t move as he leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across your neck.

“Oh, hi Dew. I didn’t see you there.” He hummed in response, thumbs brushing over your hips and your breath hitched.

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes off me.” His smug voice was right next to your ear.

“I-no-That’s not true,” you countered, even as you knew it certainly was. You had no doubt he knew too.

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re flustered,” Dew murmured gleefully, running his hands along your sides as he released you with a teasing laugh.

You stood there for a moment, completely flabbergasted, as he strode back out onto the stage like he hadn’t just got your heart racing so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if you went into cardiac arrest. Reaching out a hand, you leaned heavily against the wall not trusting your legs.

Unholy shit.

Unholy Shit.

You had a lot to process. Seeing them perform up close—having him perform up close, was something you definitely needed to see again. None of those videos compared to actually being there. But at the same time, you almost felt like your heart was going to give out. He knew exactly what to do to get you flushed and heated.

And what he had just done? You could still feel the warmth of his body, his breath on your neck and hear the echoes of his laugh. It seemed that maybe, just maybe, Cirrus was right about him being interested in you.

Satan, what were you going to do now?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

something i've been thinking about:

Wally is set up as a sort of "main character" by the whrp. he's said in the site's description of the show to have introduced the main theme/lesson of the day's episode, and then the rest of the neighbors join him on his escapades. but then we have our first glimpses of everyone's actual dynamics and characters through the audios and you look at Wally and its like

first of all, thats an npc. second, nearly everybody else has severe main character syndrome

but its fascinating how Wally is just kind of... There. he doesnt talk much. he doesnt contribute beyond a couple of lines. its more like he joins the others on their shenanigans. he fades into the background. he's off to the side while everyone else holds conversations & leads the moment

Wally, despite being described as Thee character, is borderline background.

& whats even more interesting, within his individual secret audio files and interactions - he's almost chatty. not only that but the way he talks is more confident and faster paced. he's taking initiative. he can be kinda pushy. when talking to the qa/whrp/Us, he acts more like the character his descriptions portray. he acts more like a person instead of a puppet waiting for his next cue

I cant tell if - when around the neighbors - his tepid milk behavior is a purposeful act or if he's masking. and if he's masking, is it deliberate or involuntary? and in regards to both, why is he acting so different? It could be tied to what he's trying to accomplish. if he's trying to "restore" Welcome Home, it would make sense for him to act as he does around the neighbors - he wouldnt want to clue them in that he knows so much more than he's letting on, would he?

but then that begs another train of thought - what if he isn't acting or masking? if there is a time discrepancy between Wally's interactions with the qa/whrp/Us & the more 'official' audios, that could explain the difference in behavior. we could be getting glimpses into "future" (read: current) Wally, who's had much more time to figure himself out since we can safely assume he started out as a blank slate. we could be seeing a more experienced Wally than the one seen with his friends.

of course that line of thinking loses some merit when considering the 14 "bug" audios. or it could lend to it... if we're seeing a more experienced Wally but his friends are only seeing what he allows them to. it's still him, just... a carefully curated version.

in general it could really tie into the themes of identity and change and being other, to me. when you're so different - or you feel so different - that you can't bring yourself to be your most authentic you around your friends. when you feel like you have to hold back and be who you think they expect you to be, or what would be most palatable. most normal. will they accept you as you really are? there's always the fear and terror that the people you consider closest to you won't. or when you're so scared of change that you'll shove down & lock away parts of yourself so that you can keep things as you are. because once they know you've changed, so will they. and really, do you want to even accept that you've changed? what if that's what scares you most of all - that you're different, you've metamorphosized, you can't go back to the way things were because you yourself are no longer the person you were before. there is no reversing this no matter how much you try or pretend

[augustjustice]

you wanna feel how it feels? (let's exchange the experience), 1/?

AO3 Link

Summary: After the Spring Break from hell, Eddie and Steve become fast friends, with a possible hint towards something more…except they're never quite sure what the other one is actually thinking. But maybe, just maybe, walking a mile in each other's shoes can lend them some much needed insight.

Notes: The long awaited first chapter of bodyswap fic is finally, finally here! This chapter is primarily just set up for the shenanigans yet to come.

I went ahead and added a taglist below for some of the folks who have been following along with the progress of this one. Apologies if I missed anyone, and if you'd like to be added to or removed from the list, please just let me know!

It was a typical Saturday night in late April–at least, typical post-the radical turn of events that had started with Eddie’s own personal nightmare during the Spring Break from hell, that series of dominoes tipping over and taking his life up to where it was now. And where he found himself was at Hawkins’ very own local Dairy Queen with Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and a rabid pack of six hungry teenagers and one formidable preteen who could rule them all with an iron fist if she wanted, following up yet another successful session of Hellfire with some celebratory ice cream. 

Being able to hold a meeting of the Hellfire Club at all was cause for celebration in Eddie’s book, especially since the school would no longer allow them to host events on school grounds, despite the fact that all the charges against Eddie that had started the witch hunt in the first place had been dropped. Hawkins wasn’t exactly a forgive-and-forget kind of town, something Eddie had always known and been even more acutely aware of given the even more frequent, vitriolic stares that had been following him around since March. 

Still, he was soldiering on for now, at least until graduation–thanks in no small part to the apocalypse stopping crew currently clamoring over each other at the front counter. Despite the school’s best efforts, the club venue had been relocated to the Munsons’ newly minted trailer, courtesy of the government suits. And with the revival of their D&D campaign came the start of this new tradition–begun by none other than Steve himself, who had pulled up to Forest Hills to pick up the kiddos that first night, stuck his floppy-haired head out of his BMW like an overgrown puppy, and offered to meet everyone at the local DQ, his treat. The Corroded Coffin boys had begged off coming that first time–and the week after that, and the week after that–but, still. Standing under the hazy fast food fluorescent lights and with the promise of a chocolate malt ahead, life–for the moment, at least–was as good as Eddie could ask for, all things considered. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” With three quick snaps of his fingers, Steve tried to corral the kids into some semblance of order, one hand already settled in its customary position on his hip. “One at a time, you guys. Try to cut, ah…”

“Brandi,” the brunette behind the counter supplied helpfully when she saw Steve squinting at her name tag, face blooming into a bright grin. 

Eddie was pretty sure he recognized her from his second senior year math class, and there was a vague memory of seeing someone who sort of looked like her in the cafeteria tickling at the back of his mind, sitting a few tables from the jock zone amongst the lucky hopefuls looking to catch the attention of a baseball or basketball playing potential boyfriend. If so, that definitely explained the big moon eyes she was currently shooting Steve’s way. 

But Steve only returned her smile with a harried one of his own, his attention still firmly focused on the demands of his many babysitting charges. Eddie tried to tamp down the sick twist of satisfaction he felt when Brandi deflated slightly. 

“Right. Try to cut Brandi here some slack, alright? Believe me, slinging ice cream is plenty of work without having a bunch of little menaces shouting in your ear.”

As the group finally managed to file themselves into something that resembled a line–with plenty of jostling and grumbling along the way–Erica gave Steve’s polo a sharp tug and then jabbed two fingers in his direction.

“Free ice cream. For life,” she emphasized, the same way she did every week, like Steve needed the reminder. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved a dismissive hand in her direction even as he pulled out his wallet, same as he did week in and week out, putting on a show like he didn’t already know he’d be footing the bill for most of the munchkins’ orders. 

Robin had explained the situation to Eddie when he’d asked after their first DQ outing, with the same airy tone they all often used to describe the truly mind-boggling shit they had been through over the last few years. 

“Oh! It’s a leftover debt, from when we infiltrated the secret Russian base under Starcourt. Free ice cream was Erica’s price for getting involved. Never underestimate her ability to drive a hard bargain.”

Eddie had nodded, trying not to let how gobsmacked he felt about the entire story show. “Yeah, I, uh…wasn’t planning to. Lady Applejack is a force to be reckoned with.”

“You have no idea,” Robin had agreed, looking almost strangely…proud about the fact. 

That evening, when Eddie sidled up to join them, leaving Robin in position to guard the three booths sequestered off towards the back they had claimed as their own, he caught the tail end of the sheepies excitedly recounting tonight’s session for Steve. 

“And D20 is…good, right?” Steve asked, still watching the register as Brandi passed a vanilla cone with a hefty serving of whipped cream and sprinkles off to El. 

“Yes, Steve, it’s only the best roll you can possibly make in the entire game.” 

The no duh tone of Dustin’s voice was enough to have Steve raising an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed. 

“Like sinking the winning shot after the final buzzer at the championship game kinda good,” Lucas explained, much more helpfully, his grin wide.

“Oh,” Steve nodded, and Eddie couldn't help but get distracted by the way his lips, pink and shining with a hint of chapstick, parted perfectly in understanding.

Eddie seized the opportunity to catch Steve off guard, hooking an arm around his shoulders and tugging him into his side. Delight bubbled in his chest at the way the gesture made Steve let out a loud, startled laugh.

“Should've figured that's all it'd take to rope you into playing sometime, Harrington,” Eddie shook his head solemnly. “Sports metaphors.”

“Always with the sports metaphors,” Dustin echoed. 

Steve reached out and swatted the brim of his cap, the force of it just enough to send it slightly askew and trigger a string of cursing from Dustin.

“Hey, I never agreed to that,” he argued, ducking out from under Eddie’s arm in one seamless motion. Jock reflexes, Eddie had decided, were both a blessing and a curse. 

He had learned that lesson firsthand in the past few weeks, as Eddie had grown more and more comfortable indulging in a little light rough housing with Steve, despite the fact that he knew there was no way in hell he had any better shot than their gangly freshmen did at not getting his ass handed to him. Eddie was stronger than he looked, sure, but he wasn’t exactly former basketball captain level athletic, not by a long shot. 

But was it really losing when he got to be pressed up against the firm planes of Steve’s chest, wrapped up in his strong arms–even if it was in a death lock grip–or occasionally pinned to Eddie’s own bedroom floor by him? Eddie definitely didn’t think so, and part of him was also just happy his recovery was going well enough he could scuffle, again. On his good days, at least. Doing it with his hot friend–and crush–was just an added bonus. 

“You know, it’s not my fault Lucas knows how to explain shit to me. I’ll stop talking in basketball when one of you two nerds actually manages to tell me what Mordor is.”

Dustin let out a huff. “If you just read the books–”

Steve cupped a hand around his ear, leaning down towards Dustin and hamming it up for all he was worth. “Huh? What was that? Cuz it didn’t sound like much of an explanation to me, Henderson.”

Eddie tugged a strand of hair across his mouth, trying to hide his grin. “Harrington, trust me when I say–you do not want to open that can of worms. Do you have any idea how long I can go on for once I get started? Hours, man. Days, probably.”

“Can’t be any worse than that time Robin tried to explain, uh…shit, what was it called? German New Wave? Or, no, maybe that was French Expressionism. I don’t know, the point is, it can’t be more boring than that was.”

“It's French New Wave!” Robin called from the back despite the distance, freakily intune with Steve as always. “Or German Expressionism. And sounds like you're due another lesson, Stevie-Evie. Don't worry, I've got a tried and true method to guarantee it all sticks this time.”

Steve groaned, dragging a hand over his face and into his hair–but his apparent grief at the thought of another Buckley-led film history lesson was quickly diverted when he realized it was his turn. 

From there, placing the rest of their orders passed by with little fanfare–apart from the brief, minor hiccup that came when Steve tried to pay for Eddie’s treat on top of everybody else’s. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie waved a finger at him, just barely managing to step around Steve and hand his fistful of dollars over to Brandi. “Your money’s no good here, my liege.”

The title was enough to produce a patent Harrington scowl, all drawn eyebrows and pouted lips. 

When he opened his mouth to protest, Eddie cut him off again. “Seriously, Steve, I’ve got it. One shake isn’t gonna break the bank, you know?” 

“I know that,” Steve huffed. “I just–would it seriously kill you to let me treat you once in a while?”

Steve had done more than enough, and Eddie thought he damn well knew that. Between literally saving Eddie’s life when he’d been about to bleed out in the Upside Down and then sticking around through all of his recovery in the weeks after, the amount he had done was approaching near superheroic levels. 

“You know you don’t have to hover, right, Harrington?” Eddie had asked him one day towards the end of his stay in the hospital, gnawing anxiously at his bottom lip, as he watched Steve look up from the Sports Illustrated sprawled across his lap.

The truth was he hadn’t wanted to say anything, too afraid bringing it up would lead to Steve doing just as he was suggesting…finally leaving. But the anxiety humming in his ears that Steve was just here out of pity had finally become worse, forced the words from his mouth. 

“You saved Dustin, man,” Steve had replied, expression earnest, “and helped distract the bats from me and Nance and Robin, too. I’m not going anywhere. So, you know…get used to it.”

He had punctuated the last statement by giving Eddie a light, friendly slap on his knee, and Eddie had to bite back the beaming, relieved grin that threatened to split his face. 

Steve had stayed pretty much a permanent fixture in Eddie’s day-to-day life after that, proving time and again he was serious about being in it for the long haul. Even through all the embarrassing shit, like Eddie hobbling around on his cane like a baby deer on shaky newborn legs, or needing somebody to help him wash his hair. Not exactly the ideal position to be in with a hopeless high school crush that had come burning back to life with a vengeance, but Steve would hear none of it when Eddie tried to insist he didn’t need to go out of his way like this. 

“What, you want Henderson in here instead?” Steve had asked with a snort. “You gotta be kidding, Munson. Like I said, better get used to being stuck with me.”

“Happy to be stuck together with you anytime, big boy,” Eddie had flirted, the shameless bravado in place to cover up the very real fluttering of his heart.  

In other words…Eddie had already accrued more life debts to Steve Harrington than he could ever hope to repay. And while Steve might have insisted he was more than happy with nursemaid duty, Eddie really wasn’t looking to turn himself into a charity case. Not if he could help it.

So Eddie let his grin grow, obnoxious and wide enough to show off all his teeth.

“It might,” he quipped. “And how would you feel, Harrington, knowing that this was the thing that finally managed to do me in? I’m just trying to spare you the guilt, man, I know what a complex you’d get.”

“Whatever, Eds,” Steve scoffed, steering him towards the designated babysitter’s club booth with a nudge of his elbow, hands full of his and Robin’s matching strawberry sundaes. 

Steve took his customary spot on Robin’s side of the booth, the pair of them, as always, practically glued at the hip. Their friendship, Eddie had learned, was a boundary free zone, one that frequently involved holding hands, devolving into childish slap fights with little warning, and falling asleep sprawled on top of each other while watching bad daytime soaps at the Harrington house. Only their vehement denial and the goo-goo eyes Eddie caught Robin making at the red-haired chick–Vickie, he now knew–from band convinced him Dustin’s loud, frequent, and insistent claims that they were dating were total bullshit. 

As he was just about to slide into his own place across from them, a commotion at the table behind them called for Eddie’s attention. 

“Eddie, El wants to hear you do the roar again!” Mike requested. 

Eddie tilted his head to one side, stroking his chin, as though trying to recall what exactly Mike was speaking of. Biting his lip to keep from smiling, he gave Mike a shrug. 

“No clue what you’re talking about, Little Wheel.”

A chorus of cries rang out from both tables the party had overtaken, shrieks of “Eddie!” and “C’mon, man!” reverberating again and again in his ears. 

Spinning on his heel as though he was set to ignore them, Eddie answered Steve and Robin’s expectant expressions with a quick, subtle wink.

When he leapt up from the floor and into a crouch on the booth seating, Eddie felt a sharp tug at his sides, his scar tissue very eagerly making itself known. Gritting his teeth, he refused to let the hot flash of pain show on his face as he loomed over Will and El, hands curving into claws as he reached towards their table.

“Kas the Bloody-Handed demands vengeance!” he bellowed, letting his voice drop into a deep, growling register. 

His performance was met with what might as well have been a standing ovation, in his book–a series of delighted shouts from the boys, eerily similar head shakes from Max and Erica while they both visibly fought back their smiles, and El letting out a peel of giggles as she hid her face in her brother’s side. 

When Hellfire had started back up again, Eddie had considered starting over from scratch, maybe even trying this deep into the game to veer their campaign in a different direction. He didn’t want something that they all loved to become somehow…tainted, by reminders of everything that had happened. 

“Nah, man, just leave it like it is,” Steve had suggested, one afternoon when Eddie’s fretting had finally bubbled over to the point he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It's good for their…trauma processing? Or something. I don’t know, you’d have to ask Owens about it. The point is, they wouldn’t want you to change it. Not unless you want to.”

In the end, Eddie had heeded Steve’s advice, figuring he knew more about the way those little hellions ticked better than probably anybody else, at this point. 

Moments like these made him glad he did, proof positive his instincts had been spot on. 

Eddie dropped, satisfied, down into the booth, his foot knocking straight into the side of Steve’s under the table. A little spark of pleasure shot through him when Steve simply bumped his Nike sneaker against Eddie’s Reebok in answer and then left it there, pressed close together.

“No wonder you did drama,” Steve observed, twisting a bite around in his mouth as he sucked up the bright red streak of strawberry syrup. “You’re a total natural, man. Kinda, like…hypnotic.”

Eddie tried not to make it too obvious, how closely he was following the way Steve licked up every last morsel.  

“Yeah, until he dropped out like a quitter.”

“What can I say, Buckley? Organized–well, anything really–just ain’t for me.”

“Says the guy who literally runs an afterschool club,” she pointed the end of her plastic spoon at him in accusation. “Sounds to me like you’re full of it, Eddie.”

“She’s got you there, man,” Steve agreed with a shrug, a drop from his sundae dribbling onto the table as he swirled it around yet again. 

“Oh, napkins!” 

Slapping a palm against her forehead, Robin clambered over Steve and out of the booth, not so much as hesitating to give him a chance to stand up. 

“You know, if you wanna see more where that came from–my flare for theatrics, that is–you could always, I don’t know. Stick around when you drop off the kiddos next week?” As Eddie posed the question, he wondered if the lilt in his voice sounded too hopeful. “I won’t even make you play. You have my word as a dungeon master and a gentleman.”

“Yeah, uh…fat chance of that happening,” Steve murmured, voice low, almost like he didn’t want Eddie to actually hear him, “your friends fucking hate me, dude.”

“They don't hate you,” Eddie protested automatically, feeling the need to defend them even as his own heart sank in his chest, “they're just…a little skittish, after everything that went down with Jason. You–you get that, right?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugged, looking down as he stirred his spoon through his steadily melting soft serve. When he glanced up at Eddie again, a tenseness crept in around the edges of his smile that Eddie desperately wished he could help wipe away. “I get it.”

Robin returned to the table before either of them got a chance to say anything else, sliding over Steve’s lap with enough clumsy limbed flailing it prompted a, Sheesh, Rob. Watch the elbows, will you? out of Steve. 

Seeing an opening, Eddie quickly changed the subject. 

“So, speaking of the ins-and-outs of living in the institution that is our organized society–how is Family Video treating my two favorite, upstanding, and gainfully employed Hawkins citizens?”

Robin snorted. “It’s minimum wage, Eddie. How good could it possibly be?”

“Well, I mean–you could trade places with me if you wanted. Be gainfully unemployed with a side hustle that went up in smoke since that whole–you know, accused of being a ritual Satanic murderer thing put the local law enforcement on your tail.”

Both Steve’s eyebrows shot up at that. “The cop’s still giving you trouble?”

“Not in so many words, but, uh–let’s just say they’ve made it pretty clear I’m not exactly their favorite person, right now. So, yeah. Officer Callahan must have circled the trailer park like–three different times, last night.”

“But…you were exonerated,” Robin protested, the force of her distress clear from the way she slapped a palm down flat on top of the table. “That–that’s a total misappropriation of police funds, not to mention harassment of a private citizen.”

“You ever think that maybe they’re just keeping an eye on the place?” Steve suggested hopefully, “You know…after everything that happened.” 

“Your adorably positive outlook has been noted, Stevie. Noted, but ultimately dismissed.”

“Want me to talk to Hop for you? Get him to tell them to stand down?” 

“Nah, man,” Eddie gave a forceful shake of his head, hair whipping around him in a messy cloud, “I can handle it. I’ve got plenty of experience, evading the Hawkins Police force.”

Rubbing a finger over his sideburn, Steve tilted his head from side-to-side in consideration, before he casually added, “Guess we all do, now.”

“A band of fearsome outlaws, that’s us,” Robin agreed, her nose crinkling as she laughed, loud and bright. 

“More like Robin Hood and his merry men.” At Robin’s pointed glance, Eddie was quick to amend, “…And women, of course.” 

The conversation flowed along at a rapid fire pace from there, the three of them at first trying to assign different characters from the story to all the members of the party before devolving fast into a debate about which cinematic performance of the lead character was the best–and sexiest, though Eddie didn’t divulge that was most of the metric he was using for his answers–and thus which adaptation came out on top. Robin fell into the same camp as him–Errol Flynn all the way–while Steve was a firm defender of the Disney version because, That little fox guy is cute and charismatic, guys, you can’t even argue with me on this one. 

When he had slurped up the last remnants of his malt, Eddie stretched his arms above his head, leaned back against the booth’s cracking red vinyl, and sighed. 

“Fancy a smoke break?” he asked, pulling the pack from his pocket and waving it tantalizingly for Steve to see.

Steve laughed with a roll of his eyes.

“You know I quit, dude.” 

“And so should you,” Robin added pointedly, an argument she’d made countless times since Eddie got out of the hospital, pretty much every single time she caught him lighting up. 

“Cut me some slack, Buckley,” Eddie said, same as he always did. “I’ve been through a traumatic experience. Ciggies are good for the stress, since I can’t exactly smoke weed outside this fine, family friendly establishment.”

“Uh-huh,” Robin replied, deadpan and unconvinced as ever, “we’ve all got our fair share of U.D. related trauma, Eddie. That’s not an excuse to suck on those…little sticks made out of cancer.”  

“Alright, well. Fancy a stand-outside-with-me-and-bullshit break, then?” Eddie directed at Steve. 

Robin raised an eyebrow at him, and Eddie couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. It seemed…knowing in a way he was too afraid to totally unpack. 

She saved him the trouble of having to do so by letting out a put upon sigh, dramatic enough for him or Steve either one when they got going, and a true reflection of the fact she had stuck it out through almost four years of high school theater. 

“Stealing away my own best friend to go join your boys’ club, Eddie? Really? And right in front of me, too. You know, this is just like second grade, when Trevor Milligan convinced all the boys in our class girls had cooties, and Bobby B. wouldn’t race me on the monkey bars anymore.” 

Laying a hand over his heart, Eddie had to fight down the grin that threatened to split across his face. “I solemnly vow to bring him back all in one piece, Buck. I know who's top dog around here.”

The nod she gave him was swift and authoritative. “And don’t you forget it.” 

With a wink and a click of his tongue, he mock saluted her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She turned to Steve, giving his bicep several sharp pokes. “But just because I'm the girl doesn't mean I deserve to get saddled with child-rearing responsibilities, you know!”

“We're not children,” Red interjected with a dry sort of exasperation from the next booth over.

Her point was immediately undermined by Lucas, using the makeshift catapult he'd made from his spoon to fling a maraschino cherry at Dustin. The other boy let out an indignant squawk when it missed his mouth entirely and got caught right in his curly hair.

Even from behind her glasses, it was pretty obvious what sort of look Max was giving her boyfriend.

“Correction…I'm not a child.”

“Sorry.” Lucas's grin was sheepish.

“Rob,” Steve said flatly, ignoring the kids’ antics to instead pin her with his own look, like she was being ridiculous. 

Which was…pretty fair, this time, in Eddie's opinion. He wasn't sure he'd ever met anyone with quite the same intense level of tired dad–mom–whatever energy as Steve had, and all before he'd even hit his early twenties. When it came to babysitting duties, he definitely wasn't a slacker.

“I'm just saying, as a feminist, I thought you should know,” Robin waved her spoon at them, managing to pull the move off without so much as a drip of her ice cream plopping onto the table.

“We agreed that you'd be the fun uncle,” Steve argued, the lack of protest from Robin proving that was, in fact, a conversation they'd already had, “so then be the fun uncle while Mom and Dad step outside.”

“Mom and Dad?” Robin echoed, eyebrow raising and face scrunching in transparent disbelief–and Eddie had to admit, he was caught on the exact same thing.

Steve only waved a hand at her, rolling his eyes. 

“You know what I mean. Look, it’s only gonna be like fifteen minutes, tops. If you do it I’ll–” Steve spun his hand around in several aimless, pinwheel like motions before finally snapping his fingers in revelation, “I’ll let you put on whatever movie you want at work on Monday!”

Robin stuck her hand out to him. “Make it ten, and you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Tapping a finger on his top lip, Steve pursed his mouth in thought for a moment. 

“...Twelve,” he bartered. “And you can make it a black and white one. With subtitles.”

Robin’s face lit up, teeth glimmering with the sheer force of her glee.

“Look at that. You really do know the way to a girl’s heart, Steve.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled, giving her hand one firm, business-like shake. 

Eddie was already up, having impatiently shimmied several paces away from the booth, by the time Steve stood and fell into step beside him.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Eddie couldn’t resist shouting over his shoulder, “Make sure they eat all their vegetables!”

Steve met Eddie’s shit-eating grin with one of his own before adding, “And no scary movies before bedtime!”

Seven individual hands all popped up, shooting them the bird as one.

By the time they stepped out onto the sidewalk, they were both stumbling into each other’s sides with laughter. 

—

Once they were outside and had managed to pull themselves together, Eddie stuck one of the smokes in his mouth and went straight for his lighter, his craving growing palpable. But, as that meant he had to rummage around the tangle of other things jammed inside his pocket, just laying in wait to come spilling out–like a nearly empty pack of Big Red gum, a crumpled receipt, and the spare die Eddie kept on his person in case of D&D-related emergencies–he fumbled it, the BIC hitting the ground with a sad thump.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he complained out of reflex, both from general annoyance and just a tinge of embarrassment, feeling the burn of it with his klutziness deciding to come out around Steve in full force. 

Nat 1 on charisma, Munson. Critical failure.

Steve waved a dismissive hand at him. “I got it, man, I got it.”

And before Eddie could protest, he was stooping down beside him to pick the lighter up off the asphalt of the Dairy Queen parking lot, giving it a toss into his hand like the total show off he was.

Eddie was about to make a crack about it, something along the lines of You just gotta demonstrate your athletic prowess in front of us lesser mortals, doncha, Harrington?–except, well. He didn’t get the chance. 

Because, one second, Steve was popping up and waving the lighter cockily at him, grin bright on his face, and, the next…

The next, and totally without warning, he was leaning in close, cupping his hand to light the cigarette dangling from Eddie’s lips for him. 

Eddie inhaled on instinct, taking a long drag as the cherry glowed to life, a stark red in the fading light of dusk. As for the sudden rush that went to his head–he had little doubt that it was just from the hit of nicotine alone.

And–maybe it was a trick of the low light. But for a long, breathless moment, Steve’s eyes seemed to linger on Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie’s heartbeat kicked up in answer, rabbiting wildly in his throat. The air between them grew thick, heavy-laden with tension that seemed to almost crackle like electricity. 

Eddie took the cigarette from his lips slowly, dropping his hand to let it hang at his side. And, still, Steve’s gaze never wavered, eye line still leveled directly at his mouth. If one of them were to just finally cave into the building pressure, sway forward and close that distance between them, maybe they could…

But, then, from one blink to the next, the heated expression on Steve’s face cleared, replaced by a guileless, easy smile. 

…Eddie tried to tamp down on the flare of disappointment he felt at the sight of it.  

“You know, man–Robin’s totally right about those things.” 

Steve dragged a finger across his throat, pretending to choke as he briefly mimed his own dramatic death scene. The Eddie of a year ago wouldn’t have believed it–but the Eddie of now knew better, had been exposed to Steve’s silly antics on more than one occasion. He could be just as big a goofball as Dustin, as any of the kids, as Eddie himself when he wanted to be. 

“You really should cut back.”

It was all so…normal. Casual. A light chiding about bad habits in an airy tone, like…

Like everything before hadn’t happened at all. 

Eddie stared at Steve for a long moment, trying to read the expression in his wide, hazel eyes. But…they were totally and completely inscrutable to him.

And, look. Eddie was queerer than a three dollar bill–had been since gawky adolescence hit him like a freight train, all too-long limbs and sudden, embarrassingly consistent morning wood. Dudes or chicks, it didn’t matter. Like Bowie, Eddie was an equal opportunist…for all the good it had ever done him, able to count the times he’d made a pass and hadn’t struck out on one hand. Being Hawkins local freak would do that to a guy, and that was before the murder charges and cult-leader accusations. 

But the thought that Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington was anything other than stalwartly heterosexual in the most apple-pie, white-picket-fence, boy-next-store way imaginable? The idea should have been laughable. And a year ago, Eddie would have done just that, laughed it off with a no way, man rolling easily off his tongue.

But now…now he wasn’t so sure. 

Because there was something electric about the growing familiarity that had popped up between him and Steve the closer they’d gotten since their fateful spring break excursion to the Upside Down. He felt it, when Steve slung his arm over the back of the couch when Eddie sat next to him during movie night, or laid a hand in the small of Eddie’s back, easy as anything, to keep him steady when the kids all jostled ahead of them to get through the door at the arcade. 

Maybe it was all just some vestige from Steve’s high school glory days, leftover jock rituals Eddie knew nothing about. Maybe it was total wishful thinking on Eddie’s part, as his crush steadily grew into something gargantuan. Shit, that’s what he tried to tell himself most of the time, if only for his own sanity–but he was still reluctant to say it was all in his head. Especially when moments like this kept cropping up more and more. 

…Eddie was too afraid to push it, though. Hardly over a month old, technically–even though some days it felt like a lifetime–the friendship between them was new. Not delicate, not hardly, but still not something Eddie was looking to scare off when it’d only just gotten started. 

So as the uncertainty settled over him, Eddie finally ducked his head for an instant, gnawing at his bottom lip. Then he reached over and gave Steve’s temple a teasing tap. 

“Sometimes, I just wonder what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, Stevie.”

The flirtation was thick, sure, but it was easy enough to play it off the same way he always did–just some harmless teasing between two guys, nothing serious. Plus, Eddie figured Steve was more than used to his antics by now. Sometimes, his over-the-top personality really did pay off. 

But behind those words was the truth of Eddie’s thoughts, swirling over and over again. 

Fuck. If only I could get inside his head. Then, maybe I’d be able to figure out what the hell he’s thinking. 

For a split second, he could have sworn Steve’s shoulders stiffened, posture going unexpectedly rigid. But then Steve laughed, brushing the swoop of his hair back, fingers dancing tantalizingly close to Eddie’s own, and Eddie was left to wonder if it was just more of his mind playing tricks on him. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I’m like an open book. Ask anybody around and they’ll tell you–you don’t have to put yourself out to get an answer. It’s pretty much all, like…hair care tips and sports stats, 24/7 up here.” 

“Come on, Steve,” Eddie scoffed, “I don’t believe that shit for even a second.” 

Steve only shook his head, smile still firmly in place. 

“Not sure what to tell you, dude. It’s true. Besides,” the word came out lower, almost as if Steve was talking to himself, “between the two of us, pretty sure you’re more the man of mystery than I am, dude.” 

At that, Eddie let out a startled bark of laughter. 

“Me?! You cannot be serious with that one, Harrington, no way in hell. Have you seen me? If anybody’s the open book here, it’s me. I’m practically a screaming headline on the late night news. Every single thought and feeling I’ve ever had automatically comes flying,” Eddie pressed his hand against his lips and made a sound like an explosion, splaying his fingers out, “straight out of my mouth. Always has. Just ask my old man, he used to bitch about it all the time. ‘Quit that blubbering and toughen up, Eddie, or life will steamroll right over you.’”

Steve’s lips pursed, the same knowing but insulted look he always wore when the infamous Munson patriarch came up in conversation. 

“Your dad sounds like a real jackass, Eds.” 

Eddie could only hum his agreement. 

Everybody in Hawkins knew Al Munson, low down no-account that he was. His reputation preceded him–and Eddie, more often than not. But Steve had more of the inside scoop than most, Eddie having opened up to both him and Robin about his home life. 

Still, he wondered at the vehemence with which Steve defended him, any time the mention of his absentee patriarch came up. By contrast, Eddie didn’t know jackshit about the Harringtons apart from the fact that they were hotshots around town. Steve never mentioned them, not really, and Eddie had never run into them the times he’d been over to Steve’s place. Which was…pretty weird in and of itself, wasn’t it?

Yet another mysterious piece of the puzzle that was Steve Harrington. 

“I don’t know, man,” Steve shrugged, voice gone quiet again, tugging Eddie out of his reverie. “I kinda think your book might be in Hobbit, or whatever it’s called from those books you guys love so much, because I don’t really see you that way at all.” 

Reaching out, he suddenly caught a strand of Eddie’s hair between two fingers. Eddie sucked in a sharp breath at the gesture, face going hot. 

“Besides, haven’t you ever heard of tall, dark, and mysterious? If the hair fits.” 

Steve gave the curl a light tug before dropping it. Eddie immediately snatched it back up, tugging it like a curtain across his mouth, desperate to hide the faint color on his cheeks. 

“Guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one, dude.” 

Steve let out what sounded like an amused huff. “Looks like it.”

When Steve looked down at his watch, Eddie realized, in the time they’d been talking, that he’d smoked his cigarette down to a nub.

“We should probably head back inside,” Steve gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, “before all of Lucas’s toppings somehow end up in Dustin’s hair, and Robin decides to ground them all until they’re twenty-five.”

As he stubbed out the bud with his shoe, Eddie fiddled with his rings, trying to subtly shake off some of the tension that had seemed to build up in the air around their conversation. When he met Steve’s eyes again, he was all cheery smiles, hoping he didn’t look too manic as his cheeks stretched with the force of it.

“Well, now, we couldn’t have that,” Eddie agreed, even as he added, “–Thought she said she wasn’t parenting material, though? Pretty sure fun uncles don’t have to ground people.”

His own uncle was more like a father than anything else, and still he’d never really bothered to try grounding Eddie–his disappointed stare always did more to deter Eddie away from his own stupidity than anything else ever had.

“Sure, she says that, until somebody gets chocolate ice cream on her new favorite button down. Then it’s goddamn,” Steve let out one long, forlorn beep followed by two shorter ones–an unmistakable imitation of Pac-Man’s game over death knell, and proof of just how much time he spent at the arcade with the kids, “over for everybody involved, including me somehow.”

“I mean, you did call us Mom and Dad, man. Guess that makes us responsible whenever the kiddos misbehave.”

Steve sighed, long and loud and clearly just a little exaggerated for Eddie’s benefit, if the way Steve widened his eyes in mock fear was anything to go by. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. Those little shits can stir up all kinds of trouble in ten minutes flat. No telling what the damage is.”

So, with one last jocular pat to Eddie’s back, he began herding him back inside the shop.  

And when Eddie’s own traitorous heart gave a twist at such a small, meaningless gesture? All he could do was send a silent curse up to the sky, and do his best to ignore it. 

—

That night, Eddie fell through a tangle of twisting, nonsensical dreams.

At first, he was in the stolen RV, relieving a memory. The Upside Down crew–Nancy, Robin, Steve, Dustin–stood all around him, preparing for that fateful last trip to try and stop Vecna. After reciting their orders, his hand clapped down on Dustin’s head in reassurance, a last show of camaraderie before they headed off into battle.

But then, without warning, the ground seemed to shift right beneath his feet. 

Coming out of the haze, he found himself staring at a refrigerator, standing in a kitchen he didn’t immediately recognize. On autopilot, with a feeling like his body was being tugged by invisible strings he couldn’t quite control, his hand swung down again, the motion identical as he gave Dustin a fond scuff over his cap. Except…Dustin was shorter, this time, and undeniably younger. And Eddie, well–the Members Only jacket hanging over his shoulders was definitely not his own, though he thought he had spotted one identical to it hanging in the back of Steve’s closet.  

He barely had time to register those weird little details before the world was going topsy turvy yet again. 

Eddie was on his back, a swirl of bats circling overhead like a storm against the violent red splash of Upside Down sky. As his sides screamed in agony, wooziness clenched down on his mind with a vice grip, not at all helped by the fact that the scene around him kept changing. 

One second, he was shirtless, dampness and grime clinging to his chest hair, Nancy Wheeler’s mouth a grim line as she stared down at him with an oar in hand. Then he blinked, and Dustin’s face swam into view above him, fuzzy as Eddie’s own vision blurred around the edges. 

Blink. Wheeler and Buckley, fighting off demobats like two warrior women worthy of only the grandest of campaigns. 

Blink. Dustin, screaming his name so harshly, his throat had to be raw from it. 

Blink. The outline of Eddie himself, shouting up at the sky, demanding they give him all they’d got despite the fucking bone-deep terror he knew he’d been feeling. The out-of-body sensation that slammed into him, existing somehow both inside and outside the moment all at once, was so jarring Eddie’s stomach lurched, like he was going to be sick. 

Back and forth, again and again, like the world’s worst, most bizarre merry-go-round…until finally, Dustin solidified, Eddie’s own memory draping over him like a well-worn but ill-fitting shirt. He flinched a little as he felt dampness drip against his cheeks, and a long moment stretched on before Eddie fully realized that it wasn’t rain hitting him in the face, but instead the fat tears currently racing down the bridge of the other boy’s nose. 

He knew this moment well, viscerally, a long, hellish stretch that had revisited him night after night the past month–and one he’d do almost anything to forget. 

His final goodbyes exchanged, Eddie’s eyes slipped shut of their own accord. It wasn’t peaceful, exactly–some part of Eddie deep down still railed, pissed as hell at what was happening to him–but he was also so fucking tired, after days on the run. Worn out and fed up, and ready to just get some fucking rest.

So, when the blackness swallowed him, he couldn’t help but wonder if this time, it really would be for good.

–And then a faint, familiar voice rang out in the distance.  

“Dustin?!” Eddie heard Steve scream, like a tether pulling him back into his own body. “Eddie?! You gotta be fucking kidding me, where the hell are you guys?!”

The heavy thud of footfalls drew closer, and Eddie practically felt the ground shake as another body collapsed beside Dustin. 

The world flashed, spun again. Suddenly, Eddie was sliding across the rough terrain of the alternate world on his knees, the sound of Dustin’s soft cries making his heart ache…and his own lifeless body spread out on the ground in front of him. 

Large hands fisted in the front of Eddie’s vest, tugging at him urgently. 

“Munson! Munson!” Steve’s words spilled from Eddie’s mouth as his grip on the fabric tightened, giving him a hard shake. “Eddie, come on! I told you not to be a hero. Don’t even think about it, dude–you’re not dying on us now!”

Eddie remembered this, too. Steve’s steely, urgent tone, brooking no arguments, like he could actually will Eddie back to life if he wanted to. Except this time–this time Eddie actually felt the terror behind the words, the urgency making Steve’s voice tremble in his throat. Experienced, in real time, the relief hitting like a truck, flooding through his veins, when his own brown eyes slipped open. 

“Did-Didn’t realize you were my commanding officer, Harrington,” the Eddie on the ground murmured–more like croaked, the sentence breaking unpleasantly in the middle.

“You’re damn right I am,” Steve answered, jaw clenching, and Eddie could feel his muscle twitching with it, “if that’s what it takes to get you to stick around, man, consider me a five star general.”

He’s alive, he’s alive, the Steve in his head sang, again and again, thank fuck, he’s alive.

Because, there and then, he…was Steve. The twin emotions of Steve’s own swelling hope that Eddie might make it coupled with Eddie’s own real shock from what Steve was feeling at the time warred inside him, threatening to overwhelm him. 

Then, like the force of that emotion had thrown him, Eddie landed hard on his back again. Confusion hit him as he glanced down and realized that he was shirtless–Steve was entirely shirtless. Because this had been his memory, before, and now Eddie was back in it. 

The revelation had barely settled before agony quickly drowned out anything else, the demo-bats starting to gnaw at his bare sides. One of their tails wrapped tightly around Eddie’s throat, and his hands shot up, uselessly trying to pry it off. He could feel that darkness creeping in again, the familiar sensation of being knocked unconscious rising up to meet him. 

Fourth time’s a charm, I guess, the voice inside Eddie’s head was wry, and it still definitely wasn’t his own. You made a good run of it, Harrington, but looks like your luck finally ran out this time.

The resignation of it, the acceptance, was enough to shake Eddie to the bone. 

No-no-no, no! Some desperate, deeply buried part of him screamed out. You–You’re the goddamn hero, Stevie. You don’t get to give up.

When the oar slammed down near his head this time, Wheeler calling out a quick Hey, there with Robin and Eddie himself at her sides…Eddie had never been so happy to see someone in his entire fucking life, freaky out-of-body experience be damned. 

The vision, memory, whatever it was…it released Eddie, finally. 

And then Steve was there, standing before him, clad in nothing but sleep shorts and his gray Hawkins Phys Ed shirt, his hair mussed. Darkness surrounded them on all sides, too fuzzy and dim for Eddie to make anything out apart from the figure facing him. 

Steve’s lips moved, the shape of them making out what Eddie thought was his name. Dread dripped down his spine, however, as he realized that no sound–not so much as a peep–followed. 

“Stevie?” he answered, the panicked shrillness evident in his own voice even as he couldn’t hear Steve’s own. “I can’t–shit, man, I can’t hear you.”

Steve’s face drew down into a frown, forehead wrinkled, concern and frustration warring on his face. He tried to speak again, but still, Eddie couldn’t hear a thing. Hand flying upwards, Steve gestured to his own ear, finger tapping it once. 

Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, dude, I–I’ve got nothing.”

On instinct, he reached out a placating hand. Glancing down to see it extended towards him, Steve did the same. Eddie felt his chest clench a little, finding comfort in the thought that even in a moment like this, when they couldn’t hear what the other was saying, they still managed to broach some common ground. 

Their fingertips brushed. A spark ran through Eddie at the touch, seeming almost to infect their surroundings as red lighting suddenly flashed all around them.

Between one blink to the next, Steve disappeared. 

Before he had a chance to cry out, Eddie realized, horror steadily climbed up his throat, that the figure now staring back at him was…himself? 

And not a memory version this time, either. No, this was a living, breathing double. 

His doppelganger’s brow furrowed, head tilting to one side, a bit like a confused puppy.

It was like the sound had been turned on all at once, because when the other Eddie spoke, he could finally hear him.

“Eddie?” his mirror image asked, looking past Eddie, around him, anywhere but directly at him.

If he had ever made it to that shrink Owens recommended, he bet they would have had a field day unpacking whatever this was.

Hands Eddie hadn’t even realized had still been clasped parted, slipping away from each other.

And then, Eddie was sucked back into darkness, feeling adrift as any chance at seeing Steve, his doppelganger, anything and anyone vanished into the distance. He was lost, totally and utterly, and he felt it, every bit of it, the weight crushing in on him as the last dregs of the dream faded away.

—

The next morning, Eddie woke up in Steve Harrington’s bed.

Part 2

Taglist: @highkingpenny @tinytalkingtina @starryeyedjanai @sidekick-hero @thefreakandthehair @lingeringmirth @eriquin @bifuriouswaterbender @fuctacles

[lanternbats]

re: how do you think the league, the batfamily and the corps would react to batlantern?

personally, im a huge fan of the league being completely dumbfounded by batlantern. they don’t understand where it came from, how it happened or why it’s still going. like, sure, a couple of members sorta knew about it (probs Diana and Zatanna on B’s side and Barry on Hal’s) but everyone else was just completely in the dark. i think it lends itself to good shenanigans.

the batfam is a completely different story, because they’re all stalkers and creeps, so they all knew it was happening and probably even purposely pushed situations for them to interact. the kids like Hal and they like that B is happy with Hal. Hal is also potentially the least problematic romance B has even had, so that’s even better. when they finally get together there’s a collective “FUCKING FINALLY!”

and i’m not too sure about the corps tbh. i think it’d be funny if they thought Hal was dating some sort of cryptid (because the bats are terrifying and incomprehensible to anyone and anything) only for Hal to go “nah, he’s human. he’s just a little weird like that.” other lanterns may wonder how Hal hasn’t been murdered by the entity of shadows Batman is but. if he’s happy, then sure?

and those are my two cents :)

Wait wait hold on a second, Zatanna knowing is so cute... Big Bad Batman's childhood friend seeing right through him and noticing his feeling for Hal and encouraging him to go for it because she think Hal is great. I love the idea of her knowing first, maybe even before Clark notices (because he 100% notices Bruce's heartbeat and is like OH??).

The thought of the kids stalking Hal pre-relationship to see if it's mutual/see if they approve is ssooooo funny actually. Hal calls Bruce like "Hey spooky, just wanted to let you know that your kids uhhh seem to be following me? I'm at dinner right now and they're a few table's over hiding behind menus? I thought you'd at least have trained them in espionage better than this-"

The corps are the ones I'm struggling with the most too (because aside from Guy losing his entire mind over BATMAN??? FUCKING BATMAN?? I don't know that they'd care that much?) but Hal's alien friends thinking Batman is some kind of creature™ is really good.

[miladydewintcr]

Happy Friday and welcome to DADWC! How about “I came as soon as I heard.” for Anders/Hawke?

For @dadrunkwriting

I've merged this prompt with this one from @vaxilfan too, I hope that's okay?

Have some cutesy pre-relationship Handers (and some sibling shenanigans with Carver, too!) I hope you enjoy <3

tw: injury, blood Word count: 1005 Rating: T

“I came as soon as I heard,” Anders said, shouldering his way into Varric’s room at The Hanged Man. There was a well-worn leather bag tucked under one arm, and Hawke knew it was full of his emergency medical supplies- bandages, numbing creams, antiseptic poultices. Isabela slipped in behind him, pulling the door shut.

“I already said, I’m fine,” Hawke huffed from her position atop Varric’s bed. “Carver took the worst of it.”

In truth, they both looked awful. Hawke had a blossoming black eye and a split lip, and Carver’s hands looked like they’d been put through a washing mangle.

“What in the world even happened?” Anders asked, setting his kit down and going to examine Carver first. He knew there was no way Hawke would accept any sort of medical attention before she knew her brother was alright.

Carver scowled as he held his hands out.

“Someone said they recognised Hawke from Lowtown,” Isabela explained. “They said they’d seen her using magic.”

Anders shot Hawke a look. “You have to be more careful.”

She flashed him a blood-stained smile. “But then what would you do all day?”

“I have other patients, you know.” He turned back to Carver, guided him through attempting to flex each finger in turn. “Alright, so you’ve broken both hands.”

“You should see the other guy.” Hawke bumped her brother’s shoulder with her own, and Carver smiled a little despite himself.

“I’m pretty sure you broke his nose, Junior,” Varric commented from the corner of the room.

“Defending my honour,” Hawke added, unable to keep the pride from her voice.

“Well, I could hardly let him tell the Templars about you, could I?” Carver said, clearly embarrassed, yet simultaneously enjoying the praise. “I’d be alone in the house with mother and Uncle Gamlen otherwise. Imagine.”

He winced as Anders applied a thick cream to the cuts on the backs of his knuckles. “I’ll heal you up properly once I’ve assessed your sister. Don’t move your hands.”

Carver sat stiffly, his hands held out directly in front of him.

Anders took a step to the side. “Is it just your face?” he asked Hawke.

She hummed non-committally.

“He dragged her off her chair first, too,” Varric supplied helpfully. “She hit the floor pretty hard.”

Hawke shot him a filthy glare before turning back to Anders, all smiles. “Everything else will be fine on its own, I swear. Really, the face is fine, too. Nothing’s broken! It’s all good. Just use your magic hands on Carver and we’ll be off home.”

“Hawke,” Anders drew out warningly.

From the doorway, Isabela snickered. “If you’re shy, sweet thing, I can lend you my room. I know there are parts of you you probably don’t want your brother seeing.”

The Hawke siblings flushed an identical shade of scarlet.

“Alright, now I’m really concerned,” Anders said. “Tell me where it hurts.”

Hawke shook her head.

“Tell me where it hurts, and be specific.”

She stayed silent.

“Maker, sister, he’s a healer, just bloody tell him,” Carver said eventually.

For a moment, it looked like Hawke was going to insist on staying silent. Anders hadn’t thought she could blush any harder, and she was looking very pointedly at the ceiling so that she could avoid making eye contact with him.

“It’s my arse,” she said in a rush. “I have a fucking great big bruise forming on my arse. And it will be fine on its own.”

“Oh.” Now Anders was blushing a little, too.

Isabela laughed so hard she snorted, which made Varric laugh along with her.

“Well, I can give you a poultice,” Anders suggested carefully. “Which you could take home and apply yourself. If- if you want to. And that should speed up the healing process.”

Hawke gave him a short nod in confirmation, and Anders reached into his bag, retrieving a small ceramic pot for her. As he passed it to her, it was impossible to avoid letting their hands brush, and they both very pointedly pretended they weren’t flustered by the whole exchange.

“What would you like me to do about your face?” Anders asked.

“Are you joking?” Carver cut in. “Heal it! Otherwise our mother is going to be asking all sorts of questions that I do not have answers for.”

“Not answers that we should share, anyway,” Hawke conceded. “She’ll never let us out after dark again. And considering most of our work happens after dark…” She trailed off, allowed her eyes to meet Anders’. “Be gentle?” she asked softly.

“Always am, love.” The tone of endearment just slipped out, and was apparently the wrong thing to say because Hawke’s blush returned with a vengeance. “Tip your head back a bit for me? Bela, could you get a basin of clean water?”

Isabela pushed off from the wall and slipped out of the room.

“I’m going to clean you up. I think it looks a lot worse than it is right now. I’ll probably be able to get away with just putting the same cream Carver’s got on over your bruising.” He hesitated, eyes darting down to the cut on her lip. “Do you want me to do something about that?”

She shook her head. “Save your energy for Carver.”

Beside her, Carver sighed.

“Carver, you’ve broken your actual bones!”

-

Later that night, the siblings walked home together. Carver’s hands felt a little stiff, but they looked as good as new. Coralie’s eye was bruised, but now that the blood from her lip had been cleaned away, she looked a lot better.

She had to walk a little slower than usual, much to her annoyance, because her other bruises were sore. Mercifully, Carver was content to match her pace without comment.

“You have a crush on Anders,” he noted aloud.

Hawke squeaked in surprise, and then rammed her shoulder into his. “I do not!”

“Do you want to tell mother you’ve fallen for an apostate that lives in a sewer, or should I?”

“Maker’s balls, Carver, fuck off!”

[jessicas-pi]

So the Ahsoka show (and a dream I had last night) gave me an idea. Imagine: AU where in Chapter 11 of The Mandalorian, Bo-Katan tells Din to go to Ahsoka... but also says that if Ahsoka won't help, then he should try finding her apprentice, Sabine Wren, on Lothal.

So after Ahsoka refuses to train Grogu, Din goes to Lothal before he tries Tython, which is therefore where everything with the Darktroopers goes down, which means that (a) Sabine is able to give Hera a heads up that the Empire is Doing Something, and (b) Sabine ends up inadvertently roped into the events of the rest of Mando S2. The Grogu rescue mission sort of helps her feel better---at least to feel like she's doing something. Din, meanwhile, sees someone just like him, who needs to keep busy to keep her mind off her trauma, so he decides to call her up for a little "help" whenever he feasibly can claim he needs it, or for some Jedi Training™ with Grogu (who didn't go with Luke, due to no trip to Tython and no seeing stone), or whatever excuse he can make up, which ends with Sabine getting pulled into BoBF and Mando S3, too.

Highlights include:

Din & Sabine: *win the fight with Moff Gideon together* Sabine: *takes the Darksaber from him, just to disarm him* Sabine: WAIT ACTUALLY NOPE NEVER MIND *throws the Darksaber as far as she can & refuses to pick it up again*

Sabine: You want ME to teach your kid? Din: Yes. Sabine: You do realize that I can't use the Force? Din: Yes. Sabine: And that my master stopped training me because I wasn't good enough? Din: Yes. Sabine: And that I have absolutely nothing to teach him? Din: Yes. Sabine: ...nothing I say is going to deter you, is it? Din: No.

Sabine: I just... feel... lost. Boba: Well, you could always work for me on Tatooine. Fennec: Have you ever considered an assassin business partnership? Bo-Katan: It's gonna take me a loooooooong time for me to get over you winning the Darksaber again, but you are my best friend's daughter, so if you choose to, you may come with me. Greef Karga: The Nevarro school could use an art teacher, you know. The Armorer: You are always welcome to take the Creed and join our covert. Din: How do you feel about being adopted? [later] Ahsoka, to Hera: Should we be concerned about the number of questionable figures trying to take in Sabine? Hera, having Maul flashbacks: Trust me. It could be a lot worse.

Sabine: You need to go to the Living Waters? Yeah I know where that is, I can take you. Din: That's a relief. Otherwise I was going to go ask Bo-Katan about them. Sabine: Oh? Let's ask her anyway. I'm totally down to bother Bo-Katan. Any time, any day. Kalevala HERE WE COME-

Din: While I appreciate your modifications to IG-12, Sabine, I'm not so sure about the words you've added. Grogu, delightedly smacking his new button: KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF.

Din: You had me at 'battle droids.' Sabine, giggling: yOu HaD mE aT 'BaTtLe DrOiDs'

Sabine, watching Din make his 'your song is not yet written' speech: This is sooo much better than the holodramas. Axe Wolves, side-eyeing her: You don't get out much, do you? Sabine: Nope. Want some popcorn?

.....ANYWAY, my point is, Sabine gets dragged into All The Mandoverse Shenanigans. Which is pretty funny on its own, right? But it gets better.

Because it just so happens that Din is on Lothal with Grogu when Ahsoka shows up with the map. and he kinda just....gets pulled along for the ride. So then HE'S in the AHSOKA show, mostly just trying to make sure Sabine doesn't do anything crazy, following her when she does it anyway, and being confused about Everything. Which lends itself to additional hilarity--

Din: Nightsisters? I heard they were witches. Ahsoka: They are. Din, internally: Oh my manda, I finally KNEW something!

Din: The evil Jedi are chasing us! Sabine: They're not Jedi! Din: They're not? But they have laser swords like you! Ahsoka: There's still a difference! Din: What difference? Ahsoka: Jedi use the Light side! These are Dark side users! Din: There are different sides of your sorcery??

[Sabine and Ezra reunite] Din: I'm so glad you finally found your husband, Sabine. Sabine: Ezra: Din: The crabs: *start gossiping* Sabine: He's... he's not my... husband... Din, confused: But you've clearly been living the Mandalorian marriage vows? One when together, one when apart, sharing all... Sabine: Yeah, no, that's- that's just coincidence. Din: Hold on. You live in his house, and you keep all his things, and you refuse to leave Lothal for more than a week or two at a time because it makes you miss him too much- Sabine: *makes stop talking gesture* Din: -and you gaze lovingly at the enormous mural you've painted of him, and you left everything behind the second you knew you had a chance to save him, and as far as I can tell, you've been utterly devoted to him since the moment he disappeared ten years ago- Sabine: *stop talking gestures intensify* Ezra: Wait, Sabine, is this true? Din: -and you're telling me you two aren't married? Sabine:

[billdenbrough]

this one is kinda convoluted to explain LMAO basically @naturecalls111, @wyverningx and i were discussing one of mina's wips on twt (the summer beach episode, the finished version of which can be found here) and the convo turned to kevin dealing with aaron's thighs around his head. mina said something about still deciding which way kevin would be facing, which i think meant like. left or right. but i was still fixed on the legs around his head and was like. what. like i was thinking forward or back, got confused, so wrote her this to explain what i was visualising, and then she was like ok now post LMAO notsfw warning!! kevin's fantasies get reasonably in-depth and also vaguely unhinged. but it's shenanigans-y <3

Kevin’s top three fantasies this month—he’s pretty diligent about cycling them through, keeping them seasonally relevant, you know—are, as follows:

Kevin’s gold medal—origin unimportant to the fantasy, though it was the Olympics last time—is over both his and Aaron’s necks at the same time, forcing them to press in close, the way Kevin likes. He doesn’t know if this one is physically feasible—maybe he can get a custom ribbon—but he doesn’t care. It makes him feel hot all over, cheeks flushed and dick leaking, to think about the two of them pressed that close together, naked and sweaty and the exhilaration of victory flowing through them both. Kevin’s pride and satisfaction, and Aaron looking at him, that proud smile, rare but fierce, and it’s all for him. Eyes intent, dark, wanting Kevin, proud of Kevin, celebrating Kevin. Kevin’s not too proud to admit that sometimes he can come from that alone, even before he imagines his hand wrapped around both their dicks, or kissing his name out of Aaron’s mouth, or Aaron fucking into him while Kevin tries—and fails—not to chase his mouth for a kiss.

Aaron is sitting on the edge of the pier, ostensibly looking out over the ocean while the rest of their friends do whatever it is they’re doing. Kevin doesn’t bother to fill in those sorts of details in his fantasies, and the auto-complete in his brain is impeded by the fact that when he’s with Aaron, he doesn’t pay attention to them in the background unless they’re being especially loud, annoying or incorrect. So in Kevin’s head, they’re mostly an unfinished sketch background, doing something or other while Aaron looks over the ocean, looking at a distance like some character in one of Jean’s arthouse films. The reality of it is that Kevin is swimming beneath the pier, bobbing his head over Aaron’s dick. Kevin is often a merman in this, when the athlete part of his brain wakes up enough to be like, your muscles would give up before you made Aaron come, and you can’t have that, which is annoying but true. So sometimes Kevin is a merman, and then he has a tangential fantasy in those cases which involves whisking Aaron beneath the ocean and showing him how cool and handsome and good-at-things Kevin is in his natural element, and Aaron is like okay, sure, but can I look at your gills again? in an attempt to not seem so awestruck by Kevin, but his cheeks give him away every time, because Kevin always knows Aaron in his head, even when his fantasies lend themselves to something else. That’s a tangent, anyway. The important thing is sucking off Aaron at the beach while everyone else is there and can’t tell. Kevin came to that one in the shower earlier.

Aaron’s thighs are around Kevin’s head. The reason doesn’t really matter. These days, it’s usually some stupid competition at the beach, because it’s summer and everyone Kevin knows is a competitive asshole, or they’re Andrew, meaning just an asshole, or Jeremy, meaning just competitive. Aaron is sitting on Kevin’s shoulders, his quads visibly working as he clenches his thighs tight around Kevin’s head. Kevin at one point had to fact-check this, wondering if maybe he was just contouring Aaron’s thighs in a horny haze, but no. When they next went to the beach and Kevin watched Aaron’s legs as he took a running jump off the edge of the pier, there was definite action in the quadriceps. Unrelatedly, Kevin had to excuse himself by jumping into the ocean too. Matt had been baffled and Seth had given him a look somewhere between calculating and disgusted, but for the most part, Kevin thinks it was a successful swerve. Anyway. Kevin’s fantasy. Aaron’s thighs are around his head, clenching tight, and Kevin’s dick is hard as a rock. Sometimes Aaron notices, and says something. Sometimes Aaron notices, and his dick stirs against Kevin’s head. Sometimes Aaron doesn’t notice, or doesn’t say anything if he does, and Kevin gets edged by his own fucking head, painfully hard while Aaron says stuff like hurry up, I want to beat Neil or a little to the left, the light is to the left, do you have working eyes or stop fucking moving, I don’t want her to claw out my eyes because you’re complaining about your shoes, I can almost reach her. But that’s usually enough for Kevin, the idea of being so completely surrounded by Aaron’s body heat, the firm muscles in his thighs, the softness of the skin on the underside, pressed against Kevin’s shoulders.

So Kevin is really at a loss when that fantasy starts playing out in person, but develops in a direction he’d never anticipated. Specifically, Neil and Aaron grappling, and then Neil not letting go—because he is the worst person on the entire planet—when Nicky sneak-attacks Matt, Matt loses his footing a little and falls sideways, and Neil fucking swivels Aaron around Kevin’s neck on his way down into the ocean.

Aaron’s startled whoa! is going to live in Kevin’s head forever, probably. Part of him is also impressed at Aaron’s quick instincts, moving his feet enough that they don’t get caught on Kevin’s chest and unbalance them too.

Most of him is stuck in the current moment, though, face-to-face with Aaron’s crotch.

He can feel his dick against his face. He can smell it.

He—horrifyingly, desperately, unsurprisingly—wants to taste it.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

any more norpinto thoughts?

pg13 ones? 'cus the other ones i have are probably not fit for f1blr slkfjasklfjskljdf

anyway i just think of them in all sorts of SHENANIGANS and CAPERS, i think they're fun and silly that way. their dynamic (or what tiny bit we've seen of it) lends itself well to fluffy romcom AUs imo. like... coffee shop??

so. coffee shop au for them where lando is a pretty famous streamer who needs his caffeine to function at night. then franco is the flirty barista who deliberately keeps getting lando's name wrong. lando doesn't realise that franco is trying to flirt and create opportunities for them to chitchat 😂 

franco accidentally yaps too much one day and says "okay bye bye cariño! have a great day!" and lando walks out with his drink and is like, what does that mean...

then he asks carlos what it means, and carlos just facepalms.

edited to add: continued here!

[starstruckgardenchild]

ALASTOR FANFIC

" 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄. "

WARNING: Violence. Manipulation. Corruption. Toxic relationship. Cursing. Could Alastor be considered as a warning? Lol. This isn't proof read, so apologies if there are mistakes.

SYNOPSIS: Your soul is in the clutches of the radio demon. Normally, you'd ignore his shenanigans and tomfoolery, but now, after years of your anger festering and festering, it's impossible NOT to say something. Ultimately, in the end, you regret saying anything at all.

The hotel is a sight to behold in its prime, featuring an extravagant wooden staircase and tall arched entryways that lead to an open-air courtyard. In the center lies a grand fountain that is surrounded by potted plants and flower beds. The exterior is elegant but clearly in need of maintenance, with peeling paint and missing shingles. A thin layer of dust blankets the entire area, lending it a surreal and slightly morbid feeling. The hotel is silent, its once opulent lobby now a desolate place that's a shadow of its former self.

"Alastor?" You called out into the darkness, the floorboards creaking broodingly underneath your boots. You began clenching the flesh of your stomach that was seizing up like a coil due to the overbearing nervousness you were experiencing; "Alastor?" You've never really planned to talk to the radio demon so personally. That was something you've tried to stay away from, due to the fact that it was such a terrifying thought. Despite being in ties with Alastor for a LONG while, he was still such a big mystery to you.

"Ah, Y/N! My dear!" Radio static emitted from behind you, prompting a stern stiffening of your body. "Looking for me, I see? To what do I owe this pleasure of your presence?"

Taking a moment to compose yourself ( only slightly ), you turn to face Alastor who was grinning at you as if he knew something you didn't. Was he aware that you wanted to stand up to him? You swallowed heavily, your stomach seizing up further.

"I wanted to talk to you." You declared in the most confident tone you could possibly muster.

"haha! Well, make it quick, my dear." Alastor spun his staff around swiftly before gently jabbing your chest with it. "You know I am VERY busy."

Determinedly, you swatted the staff away and winced in annoyance which only allowed Alastor's grin to grow impossibly wider. "This is serious, sir." You began, glaring at him.

"Who says I'm not being serious?" Alastor leaned back, shrugging casually. He tilted his head at you, as if he were a curious child - "now, what is it?"

You blinked, "Uhm- I'm just....tired of this. Being trapped, sir." You explained, feebly now. Pinching the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger, you laughed frustratingly. "I know there's absolutely no way out of this contract, but could you at least....be more-"

"what?" Alastor forced his face to be mere inches from yours. Your heart immediately jumped into overdrive, "Gentle? Kind? Considerate of your feelings?" He booped your nose before turning on his heel to walk off dismissively. "Hah! If I knew you were going to bring this up, I would've left sooner! Do you really think someone like ME has a moral compass? HAHA!"

You felt offended. Bewildered. And baffled. How could he be so dismissive of you? Despite being FORCED to be at his side, you have shown care for him. You weren't exactly sure why you felt the need to show him consideration when he could care less about you, it was sort of like an instinct for you. Pondering this ultimately prompted your bittersweet emotions to fester greatly, and without thinking, you charged at him and caught his staff from behind and spun him around to face you again:

"Don't act innocent!" Ignoring his strained and clearly frustrated smile, you continued hastily, holding onto his staff with an unforgivingly strong grip. "I've been with you and doing your services this WHOLE time, so I should have a say in this, right!? Haven't I been more obedient than all of your other lil pets? And yet, you still treat me like nothing more than a bag of meat."

"Well, I do like to play with my food." Alastor laughed, radio static continuing to emit from him. He pinched at your cheek harshly, "Everything you're saying is whacky nonsense, my dear! I don't have a favorite pet! Nor do I need anyone at all! If you really think you're worthy of receiving any kind of special treatment from the likes of I, you are sadly mistaken!"

"Nghh-" You tried to pull away from Alastor, but he held your face with a harsh grip, ultimately bypassing the strong hold you had on his staff. "Are you really that cruel? Are you seriously THIS sadistic?" you grunted, letting go of his staff to use both of your hands to push him away. "Gosh, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Alastor brushed himself off after you touched him, almost as if he was disgusted by the fact that you laid your hands on him. "My dear, you should know better than anyone that I show absolutely no care for little simpletons like you." He explained, the static from him became far more palpable and invaded your eardrums. "Even if you WERE worth something, HAH, well then having you on my leash would just be embarrassing, now wouldn't it?"

You inclined back, heart wrenching at Alastor's statement about your lack of importance to him. Your head lolled forward and your shoulders sagged. You really meant nothing to him. After earning a satisfied hum from him, you grimaced, far more angrier than you already were.

"You tacky-fancy-talkshow-piece of shit!" You perked up, looking up at the unfazed radio demon with a nasty glare. "We're in the same boat, did you forget? Or are you just plain hypocritical?! Fuck, Alastor...you think it's embarrassing if I was someone of importance and on YOUR leash? What about you? You are the well known radio demon who sold his soul for powe--"

You were interrupted as an emerald green chain wrapped around your tense figure and tugged you the hard ground with an exceptionally loud thud. Pain and exhaustion seeped into your limbs as you tried to struggle your way out of your bounds and get back to your feet. However, nothing you did was of use.

"I'm sorry I had to do this, dear." Lifting your head up, you let out a stifled breath upon noticing that Alastor was holding the base of the chain that wrapped around you. He seemed furious, his pupils were nothing more than mere slits and his hair was spikey as sharp pointed daggers that no doubt had the ability to cut through the stillness of a silent room. "Despite my earlier statements, I will admit that I have grown quite accustomed to you. But that's not something I wanted to admit as seeing you all furious was quite an amusing sight for me! Oh the theatrics! But, after that uncalled for outburst just now, darling, you've immediately eradicated my perception of you!"

"Wait, I--" Before you could continue and even PROCESS the words that left the radio demon's gnashing yellow teeth, you were hauled forward, your exposed flesh receiving stinging rugburns. You were almost relieved when your forceful movements were halted with your perpetrator looming over you, so that you wouldn't have to feel anymore burns. "Sir, I --"

"it seems to me, my dear, that you have set the bar too low." Alastor tugged your chain upwards so that you were forced to rest on your buckling knees. The back of your neck was rigid as the chain around it held you in your uncomfortable and compromising position. "You'll have to work your way up to exceed my high expectations of you....again. Understood?"

You hesitated, but given the circumstance of the situation, you knew you had to appease Alastor - otherwise, you'd be buried six rings down. "Y-Yeah- yes! Yes, sir. Understood."

After a few more seconds of being held in captivity, the chains vanished into mist, releasing and allowing you to crumble to the floor, weakened. You clenched your fists, feeling completely numb with trepidation.

"you're a charming specimen, my dear. I wouldn't want to hurt you further."

[sledgefuweek]

Sledgefu Week 2024 - prompt explanations

Hello, everyone! We sincerely apologize for publishing this so late into the preparations and hope that despite this delay, your work is going smoothly. Without further ado, here's a small deep-dive into this year's prompts!

REUNION

This is pretty self-explanatory. How would a reunion between our boys go? Would one of them be angry with the other? Would they jump into each other's arms? This prompt doesn't have to be used in a canon-compliant/post-canon fic, of course. Maybe it's a Modern AU - one of them leaves for college and they reunite in Summer? Or, if you decide to write an angstier fic, they reunite in the afterlife? The choice is yours and the possibilities are endless.

OUTSIDER POV

A very interesting prompt that lends itself to some character analysis as well! Think how the relationship between Sledge and Snafu looks to other people. Take into account the personality of the person or people whose point of view you're writing from, and the environment in which the characters find themselves. This prompt is quite versatile and has a lot of potential for a fluffy fic.

LIES AND PROMISES

This one will lend itself well to angsty fics. Perhaps one of them failed or refused to fulfill an important promise made during wartime? Maybe someone is hiding a secret that, if revealed, would significantly change their relationship? This prompt may also involve miscommunication and lots of emotional confrontations between Eugene and Merriell. Still, it's not impossible for them to have a happy ending, even with such an ominous prompt.

INVISIBLE STRING THEORY

To put it in very simple terms, this theory posits that one’s soulmate is always present in one's life, even if they haven't met each other yet - they are tethered to each other by an invisible, unbreakable string. How would this impact Sledge and Snafu? Would they be annoyed, or would they find themselves unable to fight back against this cosmic connection? Either way, the Universe seems to put them in each other's way no matter what. This can work with very sweet, romantic fics as well as comedic ones - just imagine the shenanigans!

DIFFERENT WAR AU

This prompt is actually combined from several prompts that were similar to each other: Masters of the Air AU, European Theater AU, Iraq War AU, and World War I AU. You may choose from any of those individual suggestions, or pick something completely different, including a fictional war. In fact, neither Sledge nor Snafu (or any other characters, for that matter) need to be combatants for this AU to work. Think about how different it would be if one or both of them were medics or civilians. This is a rather difficult topic, so don't be afraid to do research or ask for help!

BIRDWATCHING

We all know that Eugene Sledge was an avid birdwatcher. The question is, how does that figure into your work? Maybe he ropes Snafu into it and they turn it into a date? Maybe they search for tropical birds during their time on Pavuvu? This prompt is well-suited for fluffy works and all sorts of scenarios (as long as birdwatching, or attempts at it, are involved in them somehow).

FREE CHOICE

A fan favorite! Do whatever you like, including reusing prompts from previous Sledgefu Weeks. The world is truly your oyster with this one!

Once again, thank you all for the suggestions! Our Discord server is always open to new members and we'll gladly answer any other questions you may have about the prompts. We wish everyone luck with their work!

[blacksailskmeme]

Black Sails Kink Meme 2024 Round Up: May-June

Hi there pirate fam!

As of today the Kink Meme has collected 130 prompts and 26 fills! Wow!!! 🥳🥳

As I said, I’ve decided to do a round up post for each month the kink meme is live, showcasing those fills submitted to the collection monthly.

We skipped a separate May roundup because things had quieted down for a bit, but in June y'all popped right back up! Happy Hot Kink Meme Summer, we'll be here all of July as well, accepting prompts and fills alike! ☀️☀️

Here ya go: all the fics submitted in May and June gathered in one place for your convenience and enjoyment! ✨

--

Flames of Desire By John Silver, SilverFlint, 4183 words

(For PROMPT #71: silver pre series writes filthy rpf of him and captain flint (think kidnapped by the pirate styles bodice rippers) and then he actually ends up kidnapped by flint and tries to seduce him bc of course he does and flint Resists but silver keeps throwing himself at flint until he finally gives in 😈)

-

Flavor, SilverFlint, 4088 words

(For PROMPT #72: s3-s4 break, Silver likes how Flint smells sweaty and ripe after they do sword drills on the cliffs, so he keeps distracting with questions or bullshit ship tasks Flint after training so that he doesn't have time to wash up before his other meetings. culminating in flint clocking what's he's doing, getting fed up, and making Silver give him a tonguebath one morning. Copious sweat and armpit hair licking is a MUST.)

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Recipe For Disaster, Silverflint; Silver/Others, 5655 words

(For PROMPT #50: Bad Cook Silver accidentally aphrodisiac poisons the crew. Take it any direction you want, but my idea is that he buys a sketchy potion in a port somewhere, planning to put it in Flint's food because he wants Flint to be helplessly attracted to him for manipulation/blackmail reasons. However through shenanigans, it ends up getting added to everyone's food BUT Flint and, oh no! the whole crew is horny for Silver. Flint, who did NOT get dosed (but maybe thinks he did?) has feelings about this.)

-

For Her, FlintMadi, 1433 words

(For PROMPT #26: Madi is eaten out while menstruating. Dealer's choice who is slurping her up, could be multiples)

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Enter Leviathan, Silver/Sea Monster; SilverFlint, 2742 words

(For PROMPT #4: The War Ship is guarded by more than men. They have somehow captured a sea creature and are keeping it under decks. It gets loose during the interrogation, and Flint (still tied to the chair) watches as Silver gets tentacle fucked into oblivion.)

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first prize, SilverFlint, Silver/Others, 4088 words

(For PROMPT #94: some sort of s1/2 au. Flint is fucking Silver, but sometimes he lets a chosen few members of his crew have a go at Silver if they did well on a raid. Lending and voyeurism (Flint watches), Silver feels a mix of humiliation from being used like this and weird messed up pride from being such a Prized Possession that he's being given to people as a prize)

-

Bot Love, FlintHam; SilverFlintHam, 5293 words

(For PROMPT #84: Inspired by the porn bots flooding the tumblr black sails tag. Modern AU. POV James. Thomas uses tumblr because he runs an account posting about bawdy quotes from poems/classics. James thinks it's ridiculous (social media at all, that is). One day he looks over Thomas's shoulder and sees such a porny advertise (something along the tacky line of "who wants to play with my cute butt") featuring a picture of Silver or well, parts of his body, in a tantalizing position. Thomas realises that James is very very turned on by it (James is angry about being turned on but damn, that's a really nice ass) and clicks the link. This is followed by a steamy video chat with Silver fucking himself with a huge dildo on his bed. Meanwhile, Thomas gives James a handjob or blowjob or... more (your choice). Bonus points if Thomas pays Silver a very generous tip in the end and if they end up exchanging contact details for a meeting in person (Silver, a poor student, sees his chance to become the sugar baby to these two obviously very rich and hot couple)

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Close Combat, Miranda/Anne, 3261 words

(For PROMPT #117: Miranda and Anne fight sex :) maybe a Miranda lives au or just set sometime in s1 or 2, but Miranda decides she wants to learn how to fight. flints fight style doesn't work for a thin woman, and Miranda hears about how skilled and feared Anne bonny is, so she seeks her out for training. during the course of the training, the sexual tension grows and then breaks and they have nasty rough sex on the ground - something neither of them could get with flint or max who love them too much to be rough nd dirty with them)

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Captain's Treasure, SilverFlint; Silver/Others, 1883 words

(For PROMPT #94: some sort of s1/2 au. Flint is fucking Silver, but sometimes he lets a chosen few members of his crew have a go at Silver if they did well on a raid. Lending and voyeurism (Flint watches), Silver feels a mix of humiliation from being used like this and weird messed up pride from being such a Prized Possession that he's being given to people as a prize)

-

Thanks again to all of our May and June contributors! Here’s to more unapologetically smutty, kinky fills for July~~ 🥳🥳

[pafbar]

I FINALLY FOUND YOU AGAINN I SAW UR CONTENT IN YOUTUBE LIKE AROUND A YEAR AGO BUT COULDNT REMEMBER THE NAME OF THE CHANNELS AND THE VIDS HELLOOO!!!

What programs do you use for ur art/vids?

Since when have ya been workin on the story of Ted n Toby?

Also how do you write such natural n funny dialogues/interactions? (Also also massive props to the VAs they do amazingly)

Anyways thanks for making absolute peak all ur art akes me so happy ^^

HEHE HIII!! WELCOME WELCOME!!

So for my art and stuff usually I try to use free software - Blender for 3D animation and Krita for drawing/textures/some 2D animation, but for most video editing I use Adobe Premiere (at least until my student license runs out 😭😭) and I also use Toon Boom Harmony for bigger 2D animated projects (permanent license my beloved and feared)

I came up with ted whilst watching home alone the day before thanksgiving in 2018, and came up with Toby a few weeks later :) I’ve been writing and rewriting their whole sort of story since then, and have taken a lot of tries to figure out where I position their whole deal tonally i guess!! A few weeks ago I spent like 2 days wallowing in my bed trying to plan out a “real” narrative arc for the series and then I was like dude no. It’s so scary to try to establish conflicts and motivations that fill out an arc the way people advise, so I am just going to give them myriad background problems they navigate while we go to some different fun episodic shenanigans :D

And eee thank you!!! I do try to make things sound natural - lots of worthikids influence as I am sure you can notice!! but just in general, I am motivated by my spite against kind of canny, predictable, overly efficient dialogue that I see in a lot of stuff 😭😭 it’s kind of weird, sometimes the best way to write in a way that will feel natural is to kind of get really weird on purpose. phrase things oddly! Use slightly obscure words! Write a sentence you can barely imagine someone saying out loud, and I’ve found that that’ll lend your character a very authentic specificity. Also, timing is absolutely everything. The space (or lack thereof) between two characters talking says just as much as any sort of dialogue!! and you know damn well those VAs are killing it out there!! Can’t count the number of times I’ve given them really weirdly written lines and they have been so patient and done really great work!!

And thank you, I really appreciate the support!!! Hope I can keep up makin my stuff!! 😭😭

[xxxcertifiednerdxxx]

my tinder date wants to know why you’re banned from tinder

Ask and ye shall receive!

Gather round, folks, and lend an ear as I tell you about Arnold.

No, he’s not a first date gone wrong, nor is he a scorned ex-lover who came up as a potential match. He isn’t a rival to whom I am bitterly attracted, and he isn’t an unrequited crush.

Arnold is my son.

He is also a rubber chicken.

[image description: a white hand holds a blue rubber chicken against a white wall. The rubber chicken has a red beak, comb, wattles, and feet, as well as a gold collar that’s says “SQUEEZE ME!”]

Let me set the scene.

A couple years ago, on a cold night in late autumn, I went to a grocery store with some friends. We all separated to get what we needed.

I don’t remember if I actually got anything for myself in that trip, but I do remember wandering around, only to come across a giant bin of rubber chickens.

Immediately thinking of the vine where that person presses a bunch of rubber chickens (geese? some sort of fowl) to make a loud noise, I did the same thing, probably to the chagrin of fellow shoppers.

Some of my friends joined me in my shenanigans, and we left the store in a jolly mood.

Days later, one of my roommates, who was one of the friends from the first grocery trip, came back from another grocery trip with a gift for me.

It was a blue and red rubber chicken.

I looked on my new child with complete adoration and named him Arnold. I thanked my roommate with all my heart and left to plan the many hijinks I would get up to with Arnold. (He has admittedly been through a lot, but the wear and tear mostly comes from love.)

One day, i had the bright idea to make Arnold a Tinder account.

I did not give myself much time to consider the idea before diving in. Arnold had a photo shoot, and I uploaded as many photos as Tinder would allow for his profile. I believe I put his age somewhere in the 20s. I picked the option for any gender to match so as many people as possible would see him. According to what I put in his bio, he got the Covid vaccine, has a natural talent for singing, lives with his mom, and likes Kpop.

Then I published his account.

While matching with people amused me at first, keeping Arnold’s Tinder account active eventually became a chore. Every so often, Tinder would email me and say my his account would be hidden if I didn’t open the app and use it.

I swiped through people, and whenever i matched with people, i would just shoot them a simple “yo.” I tried not to carry on any conversations, though, because I myself was not interested in going on any dates. This was just to entertain me and maybe some other people who came across Arnold.

One day, I got an email saying Arnold’s account was reported and I was no longer welcome on Tinder. I assume someone reported Arnold bc he isn’t an actual person, so I was technically breaking the laws of Tinder or whatever. It was honestly a relief; no more swiping through profiles just to keep the account alive.

I still have Arnold, and I still love him. But you will never see him, or me, on a dating app again.

TL/DR: I made a Tinder Account for Arnold, my rubber chicken. It took over half a year, but Arnold’s account was eventually reported for not being a real person, and I was banned from Tinder.

[uchiha-7thsingularity]

Touchstarved is a new addition to my fandom found family

(After playing the demo and listening to behind the scenes with the devs interview)

I'm glad they are getting the love and support they deserve on their own creation...they legally own now. 😤😍

I will be buying merch from them! And donating because I want this game to be developed as soon as possible.

Mhin will be my seventh emo child I adopt after Felix (last legacy), minato (p3), Virgil(sanders sides), levi(obey me), rory(lucifer), and idia(tw). They're the embodiment of "don't touch me I'm lethal and will use it to my advantage." Like a feral kitten with zoomies trying to get their prized toys which is a decent conversation with someone. A hunter that is welcome to hunt me down to get their cloak back.

Kuras got me on my knees with his healing touch. *not sexually* I mean he lit a fire in me to the point I want to see him go feral every time I toss and turn to see his true colors. His design screams "I'm the sun your a speck of dust not sit and let me observe you." Kind but aloof. Gentle but stern. Calm but will be feral if necessary. Another reason to follow him till the end of time.

Vere is THAT asshole, dick of a friend. Best friend? Frenemy?! Doesn't matter his deal I want to rile him up. Make his fur stand on end when he feels my MC's presence walk into the same room he's in just to say nothing to him and walk out. I want to fight him. Lovingly where he respects me to some degree to which were on first name basis. Bark or hiss at him at random to throw him off. Vibes are "I'll throw you across this room if you don't stop grabbing for my tail."

Ais is a hot pepper. You look at his whole design and see "Stop looking or be my guest I could care less." A man who gives you no second glance. Tames beasts. Punches a dirtbag for you because he felt like it. Named a dog demon princess.....I would like to buy him a drink. Will physically cling to him to ask him how his day went. Would make him laugh by tripping and falling to just see his reaction. Yep, that's what I was hoping for and I want more.

Leander is a wannabe hero figure/leader sort of. A man of taste in magical affairs. Could standoff as a "great smile just don't fall for the shine." Lends you a firm hand but is smooth like butter. Hype man. Heavy drinker and fighter. He a wingman but in the wrong way to where he ends up with the person we wanted to woo. Up to all kinds of shenanigans unless rent paid then he parties. I need his good luck charms to earn a lucky night out with him. Tell me everything!

Still will wait two years for this game. Want the devs to go at their own pace to not be overwhelmed. Have to redraw my oc. Love the story and how the devs said all the characters are doomed either way no matter the bad or good endings. All five individuals will be chaos. It's a case of will I make them worse or better.Instead the alternative is to make them realize you will never leave their side no matter what. Lots of death and gore. Finally! Finally!! Like a villain (mainly monsters) story where we have toxic characters and don't automatically make them good just because but actually dive into the lore and help them break a curse or live with it. Redemption? Possibly?! Althouh, I want to help them show their true colors and what their capable of even if it leads directly to a dead end. These five have no idea what's coming for them...I've ranted enough for today. Bye!