#st fic preview

[pubbydreams]

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲𝐭𝐡 / 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 ⁠— [𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰]

cw: allusions to/non-graphic mentions of smut (18+ - mdni)

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

Kissing Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's absolute favourite pastime.

His taste, how he feels—pliant and mewling under him, or hard and growling above him—how he looks with bruised lips, and flushed cheeks, how he sounds...It’s all he can do to keep from locking them in a room together to kiss him for the rest of time.

Sure, if he’s being honest with himself, the feeling of stubble rubbing up against his own had taken a bit of getting used to, but so had not having to duck down to reach his lips, and feeling toned muscle where he was used to the soft give of a breast. Now that they’re a month and a bit (five weeks, and two days) into their relationship though, he knows deep in his bones that he could never do without any of it.

Hell, he’s even come to appreciate how Eddie’s kisses taste first thing in the morning when their breath could make paint curl. Every little thing about him is perfect in a way he can’t quite describe.

Almost regretfully, he pulls back a touch to look down at his work, appreciating the little purple marks he’s painted along his milky canvas. Eddie occasionally talks about constellations, and universes, and things far out and beyond his comprehension—another holdover from his short time with his mom, he’s come to learn—he wonders, as he traces gentle lines between the bruises, what stories he’ll see when he next looks in the mirror.

Then Eddie’s smiling up at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and Steve can’t help but smile right back down at him like he’s the moon, illuminating and healing the darkest parts of himself. He sweeps the pad of his thumb along his cheekbone and takes just a breath longer to appreciate every little thing. All he wants is to collect these precious, quiet moments, and tuck them away inside of himself to roll over in his hands on those increasingly rare nights he has to sleep on his own.

Finally, he lies himself back down on top of Eddie, and trails lazy kisses from his Adam’s apple up to his lips. The final remnants of syrup, cigarettes and coffee still cling to his tongue, and it makes Steve’s head go all foggy because even when he’s in charge, it’s hard not to be pulled out to sea, and drown in him.

With worshipful slowness, he slides his fingers along Eddie’s ribs, appreciating each dip, and the sensitive pucker of his scars. The goosebumps and quiet whimper he’s met with have his stomach clenching with need. Not a hurried, burning need, but a fond kindling (a kindling he's started to call home) in the base of his heart.

“Can’t believe I’m making out with Eddie Munson to Metallica,” he chuckles against parted lips.

Eddie's mouth skews prettily as he trails the pads of his fingers up and down his spine. “Sweetheart, I love you, but this isn’t Metallica."

Steve blinks. “What?”

“It’s Dio,” he corrects before laying a sweet, chaste peck on the corner of his mouth.

Uh...

OK.

OK. OK, no.

No, just— No.

No.

Struggling to sort his thoughts up, he props himself onto an elbow and scans Eddie's face for any hint of anything (deception, humour, pity, horniness, anything). But as he often is, Eddie's mostly unreadable.

“No, it’s Metallica,” he grunts.

Eddie winces. “Babe—”

“What? No, dude, it’s literally Metallica!” He insists, brow pinching hard as he listens. “OK, OK, wait…Crushing all deceivers, mashing non-believers, never ending potency. Hungry violence seeker feeding off the weaker, breeding on insanity. Smashing through the— See? Metallica!”

Of course it's Metallica! How could it not be Metallica? How could he know it’s Metallica, and Eddie of all people, not know—

Not...not know...

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, he’s fucked up. He’s fucked up real bad.

“Shit—"

“Well, well, well, Steve Harrington,” he drawls, smirking like a cat with a bird in its teeth, “Who’da thunk it.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no. No. No!” He whines, brain stalling as he struggles to find anything to shove in the hole he’s dug for himself.

Eddie only chuckles back up at him. “Who’da thunk that Steve Harrington would know—”

The little voice in the back of his head that loves to ruin things reminds him of Eddie in cherry red swim trunks chattering on about tummy rot. Without any grace, he smashes their lips together, desperately trying to get him to shut the hell up, and just drop it. It works for a moment, his words melting into a quiet groan before his taunts continue around the kisses.

“—would know the difference between Dio and Metallica. That he’d know the lyrics to a Metallica song! It’s not even a title track! Oh, how far they fall!” He cackles, large, warm hands squeezing playfully at his waist.

Steve straightens himself up, and stares down at Eddie’s flushed, gleeful face, grimacing as embarrassment crawls hot and prickly up his chest. It’s nearly impossible to not think of the last time he'd perched in his lap like this, hands on his nearly hairless chest, Eddie laid flat, flushed and panting. Embarrassment outweighs the echoes of…of that, but his dick still stirs because of course it does. And, of course, because they’re so close Eddie takes note, and his grin only gets more devilish, which is mortifying.

“You put it on my side of the tape! How could I not know it?” He demands, trying so hard to ignore how whiny and flustered he sounds.

“No, no, don’t you try making excuses now, King Steve. You’re a closet metalhead, aren’t you?” He purrs around another laugh as his hands glide up and down the outside of his thighs (which really isn’t helping with the not thinking).

“Me? A metalhe— Y’know— Do you have any idea how you sound right now?” He scoffs, lips quirking into a sneer.

Infuriatingly, he begins ticking off his sins on his fingers. “You made a battle vest—”

“We made a—” he attempts to correct as Eddie continues.

“—fine, you asked me to help you make a sacrilegious pop-rock battle vest. You just sang along to Metallica, and we’re going, together, to a Metallica concert in nine days. Babe, I hate to say it, but if it walks and talks like a duck…”

Well, he certainly has him dead to rights.

“A duck, Munson? I’ll show you a duck!” He threatens as he wraps a very loose hand around the base of Eddie's throat.

“Mm, well, to be honest with you, I don’t know what that means, but I’d love to see it,” he jeers. “But you gotta catch me first!”

Eddie pushes him off, and Steve lets him, rolling onto his side with a little grunt. Immediately after, Eddie takes off in a mad dash out of his room, cackling as he goes. And because Steve's not one to back down from a challenge, he rushes down the short hallway after him, and manages to snag him around the middle by the kitchen.

Eddie's laughter comes loud and booming from his chest, occasionally turning to snorts as Steve's jaw goes slack, his eyes crinkle, and his giggles go squeaky the way he knows Eddie loves. It feels so stupid and cliché to be laughing about nothing while holding his lover, but he can't stop himself because joy has completely filled the well inside himself, and is running over; he has to let it out somehow.

With great care, he turns Eddie around in his arms, and cups his face, thumb running lightly along the puckered scar the spans the crook of his jaw and the hollow of his cheek. Eddie, in turn, runs his pointer finger along the ring at the base of his throat and draws patterns between the love marks he's left behind. And Eddie's looking at him with so much admiration and affection his well runs over again, and the joy turns into everything, and nothing and all of it in between all at once, so he can't not kiss him.

Willing prisoner to his own desires, he indulges in that need, brushing their lips together until Eddie's laughter dies down, and his arms wind around his neck to pull him closer.

Yeah.

Yeah, he’s never going to get tired of kissing him.

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

haiii again! here's a preview for the companion piece to i'm permanent (now i won't go) which will hopefully be back up on ao3 soon. hope you enjoy ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა

[remholder]

decided to drag myself out of some serious art block by drawing one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite fics: The Borg Have Never Looked So Good In Sciences Blue by @wickedheadache

though i will admit i took some liberties

[paradiecircus]

This is… like… something that goes down in part 2 of the Mine saga with Bonnie & Kol. Does something look familiar???

Except I’m not even done with Mine yet lmao why am I posting this? Previews are fun tho, so enjoy!

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Preview...

"A Tattoo and the Bloodsucker Blues"

(A Terry Richmond Vampire AU Fic)

Summary:

You thought the tattoo on his arm marked him as one of those Hoteps or Nation of Islam brothas that hawked bean pies on the corner with the Final Call. But little did you know it meant more than that. That's why you have to track him down and kill him... before the baby in your belly can turn into his kind.

(This fic will strictly be for the grown and sexy. Smut, Violence, Blood. Dropping October 30th at Midnight on All Hallow's Eve.)

“I don’t wanna wait for love

Every time I do

I don’t wanna wait for love

Waitin’ on him

Are you warm enough?

Coco blood

Are you warm enough?

Coco blood”

Celeste – “Coco Blood”

Celeste Profitt checked the GPS on her smartphone one more time before stepping out of her gun metal gray Dodge Charger.

She drove out to find the pale green double shotgun house, which was sequestered on the outskirts of St. Celestine Parish. Ten years previously, there had been flooding in the county her grandmother named Celeste after, and many families left the area when their insurance wouldn’t pay for water damage. The houses left behind looked like gaps in the teeth of someone with infected gums. It reeked of working class poverty, the kind of poverty Celeste ferociously clawed her way out of by holding down two jobs. One at the poultry factory, where she removed the putrid raw entrails of slaughtered chickens, and the other at a nursing home, where she cleaned shitty bed pans and kept company with neglected elders with no kinfolk nearby.

The shotgun houses left standing weren’t different from the Creole cottage she rented less than seven miles away, and she cut her eyes back to the one she needed. Damp air with the hint of rain coming caused her to sniffle. It smelled old around there, and something had definitely died in some bushes across the street. She zipped up her dark blue windbreaker and fingered the pepper spray she carried in the jacket’s pocket. Couldn’t be too careful around folks who chose to stay in a bad situation. It still smelled like floodwater and deep regrets.

She pulled a cigarette from her purse, but stuffed it back down to the bottom, reminding herself that she was pregnant now and couldn’t hurt the baby that rested in her womb. The urge to puff daily was a struggle, and she refused to toss a ten-dollar pack of nicotine in the garbage. Shit, she might sell a few loosies if she needed to. Her funds were getting low paying for all the high-priced gas she burned through looking for her baby daddy.

Terry Richmond.

That’s what he called himself, but now she wasn’t too sure if that was his real name or not since she couldn’t find his ass anymore once she decided to keep their baby. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She needed to stay calm and not think about the hurt and hate she carried in her heart for that man. Never trust a pretty boy with pretty eyes and a third leg. That should’ve been her motto from jump. But that was neither here nor there with the position she found herself in at the moment. Right now she needed some answers and the woman inside the pale green shotgun house was supposed to have the solution.

She fingered a plastic grocery bag she also carried in her purse. Inside it was a blood plasma bag she toted around every day that she fed from when the urge overtook her on some days. The cravings for blood grew worse, and the fetus inside her stayed absorbing every nutrient from her body. What it wanted most lately was the blood in her purse. The baby inherited fifty-fifty of its parent’s genes, and back when she thought things were cool between them, all lovey-dovey and real passionate in those early days…well, Celeste imagined their baby inheriting Terry’s pretty eyes and her thick wondrous hair. He was lighter than her and she figured the baby would come out a gorgeous brown that was a mix of their two different skin tones. The last thing she wanted was for her child to come out with Terry’s hunger.

For blood.

Celeste zipped her purse back up and concentrated on what she was there to do.

Talk to the Black witch of St. Celestine Parish.

The renowned Voodoo priestess down in Nawlins last weekend was a grand failure at solving her problem. That lady's Catholic ass made the sign of the cross several times throughout Celeste’s consultation, which was a bit much for her taste. Celeste grew up Catholic too, but found it irritating that a Voodoo priestess acted so scary about a bloodsucker, while also bragging about turning people who were made into zombies back into human beings. At least that’s what she claimed on her website. That phony bitch started whimpering and calling for Jesus when Celeste pulled back her shirt and lifted her bra to show the fang marks on her titties that Terry made that never healed properly. She explained how she became allergic to her silver jewelry, and fought with a three-inch bundle of developing cells over blood intake from the plasma bag.

She left the fake Madame Zeroni’s Curio shop disgusted and a hundred dollars broker.

Her homegirl Mercy texted the name of a woman who quietly practiced Hoodoo on her phone. Mercy believed everything Celeste told her because she had been there from jump, and without judgment, guided her to another root of the African diaspora tree.

Celeste lifted her foot onto the first creaky step of the shotgun house and the front door on the left opened. Behind the screen door she made out the face of a man with the skin-color of dark tobacco leaves.

“Yeah?” he said in a gruff tone.

Celeste glanced at the door on the right, which was her destination. She ignored the man and knocked on the glass window on the upper half of the wooden door. The neighbor opened his screen and stepped out.

“You sure you here to see her?” the man asked.

Without a screen barrier, his face looked younger and more handsome, his short locs pointing every which-way on his head like tiny black antennas. The front door on the right opened and a pretty, dark brown-skinned woman stuck her head out.

“Mind ya business, Bertrand. She ain’t here to see you.”

“Lynn?” Celeste asked.

“It’s me,” Lynn said.

She opened her door wider and glanced back at her neighbor.

“Come on inside before anymore noisy birds stick they heads out,” Lynn said.

Celeste stepped over the threshold and passed Lynn to get inside.

“Good Lord, gal, you got a head full of hair on you! How long you been growing it?”

Celeste touched her heavy and long bongo locs that fell down to her waist.

“Ten years now. Since I was a teenager.”

“So thick and pretty. Betcha when you go swimming it’s like fighting with an octopus, huh?”

Celeste grinned.

Lynn was much younger than she expected. Late twenties, maybe early thirties. Out in the parish swamps, there was no telling how old melanated folks could be.

“Come on back here into my kitchen,” Lynn said.

Celeste waited for her to lead the way and they walked past two rooms straight to the neat kitchen.

“Hungry?” Lynn asked. “Got some beans and rice on the stove. Frying up some pork chops, too. Go ‘head and sit at the table.”

Celeste took a seat at a small table with a pink plastic covering. The savory odor of red beans and seasoned, fried meat made her mouth water. Her stomach grumbled.

“Oh, yeah, you hungry. I’ma fix you a plate.”

“Please, don’t go to any trouble for me.”

“Ain’t no trouble. Got plenty. I made extra for you, anyway. Pregnant women gotta eat good.”

Celeste stared at the woman. She wasn’t even showing yet and never mentioned being pregnant over their phone call consultation. Did Mercy tell her?

“Don’t get spooked, Celeste. I work as a mid-wife. I can smell a pregnant woman a mile away. Relax.”

Celeste watched the young Hoodoo woman fix a big plate of string beans, red beans & rice and a thick cut of pork chop fried to golden brown perfection. She plopped it down in front of Celeste and fixed herself a plate, too. Her close-cropped brown hair had a cute undercut, and both her ears had at least seven small gold hoops pierced through them. She wore an off-the-shoulder white t-shirt and booty shorts for the heat. Her eyes were small for her face and were the only thing on her that looked mature. Had she not known any better, Celeste would’ve thought she was chatting with a senior in high school.

Lynn sat down across from her and held out her hand toward Celeste.

“I like to say grace over my meals,” Lynn said.

Celeste clasped her hand, and a charge of energy seeped into her palm from Lynn. She closed her eyes as Lynn said a short, heartfelt prayer, then lifted a half loaf of Wonder Bread from her table. She unfastened it and handed Celeste two pieces.

“Ooh, wait, I forgot some libations.”

Lynn jumped up and brought back a large glass pitcher of fresh lemonade. She grabbed two plastic cups and poured them each a good fill.

“I don’t have no ice cubes for it, sorry,” Lynn said.

Celeste sipped and the sweet/tart taste was delicious and cold enough. Both women ate quietly for a few minutes, and after Celeste’s third bite of her pork chop, Lynn stared at her directly with fierce chocolate eyes.

“Did you bring the things I asked for?”

Celeste nodded and pulled out a bundle from her purse and slid it to Lynn.

“I got some hair from a brush he used at my place, and summa his semen. We made love the last time I saw him and he wiped himself with a washrag and threw it in my dirty clothes hamper.”

“Semen is good. Anything liquid from the body is good,” Lynn said, collecting the items that Celeste stuffed in a little sandwich baggie.

“Tell me everything about this man you’re looking for. From the beginning,” Lynn said. “In order for me to make a root powerful enough to find him and bring him back, I gotta know every detail.”

Those chocolate eyes stayed intense.

Celeste fought the urge to sip on the blood in her purse and took another healthy swig of lemonade from her cup before she told the tale, from top to bottom, of how Terry Richmond, a whole ass vampire, seduced her out of her panties, stole her heart, bit her, then left her with something growing in her belly that she was afraid of…

A.N.:

Reminder, this long fic is dropping All Hallow's Eve at Midnight! Comment below if you want to be tagged for a sexy, supernatural treat at the end of the month!

Tag List Thus Far:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

@notapradagurl17

@4pfsukuna

@yamst3rdamctrl

@sweettea-and-honeybutter

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

loving you brings only heartaches (T)

(art previews! full art is here at this post by @doodleswithangie on tumblr. i also used her alt text!)

It's been 62 years since Aziraphale and Crowley’s disagreement in St James’ Park, and the world has entered a new era of flapper girls and arbitrary Prohibitions. After attempting to finally get in contact with the angel again, Crowley finds out Aziraphale has been accused of murdering Mr Howard, Soho staple and owner of the Harmony Emporium a few doors down...in his very own bookshop. It’s up to Aziraphale and Crowley to solve this mystery, or else they might be next.

the @go-minisode-minibang's reverse bang fic is finally here!! i claimed this piece of BRILLIANT art by @doodleswithangie of fem aziraphale and crowley in the 1920s, and i turned it into a silly yet serious murder mystery. i will say, i loved working with this piece and agonizing over getting it right! i hope y’all enjoy it, and PLEASE go over and look at the full art both on ao3 and her tumblr post! i love it SM!!!! <3

also: @deerpines i promise i'd tag so i will :)

[saintseiya-zone]

We’re happy to announce the next SSZ Zine!

The theme will be Hades' Specter-focused and you can participate with fanarts, fanfics, photos and cosplays. Stay updated by joining our Discord!

Sign-up timeframe: 02-16/Nov/2024 23:59 UTC -6

Sign-up form: here

Character Confirmation list: here

Reference list: here (to check which characters are available)

Submission period: 26/Dec/2024 to 8/Jan/2025 23:59 UTC -6

Description (in text) and FAQ under the cut

[About the Zine]

Description: Dark, evil, and wicked, Specters are the final boss to face in the Saint Seiya franchise. Abandon hope all ye who enter here!

Participation: You will submit one (1) original, new fanwork (older/already published work is not accepted) to be compiled into a zine. Please do not share your final work until the zine has been properly published by SSZ (you may, however, share WIPs, previews, and/or close-ups as you work on it)

Type: The final compilation of all fanworks will be a free, digital PDF file (no physical versions will be made, no money will be earned or paid)

Character: Submission types have the following limitations:

Fanarts: 1 main character per submission (no duplicates ✪)

Fics: focus on 1-2 main characters per submission

Cosplays: 1 main character per submission

Merch Photos: 1 main character per submission

✪ This means most characters will have 1 fanart only. That said, due to their popularity, the following characters will be allowed a max of 2 fanarts overall: Hades, Wyvern Radamanthys, Griffon Minos, Garuda Aiacos, Pandora Heinstein

The Character Confirmation list will be updated daily at 19:00 UTC -6 until the sign-up period is concluded. We appreciate your patience while this occurs. Once you are added to the list and your character is confirmed, you may start working on your submission. This is on a First Come, First Served basis.

Sign-up form: here

Before filling it out, check the Character Confirmation list. For fanarts, you'll input 5 different options, from your top choice to least. ☆ Please note this zine does not review/approve/reject sign-ups, everyone is welcome to take part in the activity as long as they sign-up. If there are any issues, we'll get back to you.

Submission period: 26/Dec/2024 to 8/Jan/2025 23:59 UTC -6. Fanworks submitted after this will not be included (this is non-negotiable). However, if you are facing challenges with your submission, let the staff know ASAP.

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Visuals: [Character name] - [Creator]

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Email Subject: Underworld Zine, El Cadejos, Lycaon Phlegyas

Fic file: Zeuse - “Encallar”

[About the Submissions]

Art/Photography Canvas size: 72 dpi, JPEG 

2480 x 3508 px (portrait orientation) OR

3508 x 4960 px (landscape orientation)

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4 OR 6 full pages in total as exact as possible, Arial font, 11 pt, single space

Margins: 1 in (each)

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Allowed:

Age reinterpretation (e.g., an adult character as a child)

Alternative Universes

Other applicable characters (including OC), please check FAQ

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AI-generated content of any kind

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NSFW/Explicit content (contact staff for case-by-case reviews)

Non-official genderbends

Crossovers with non-StS series

[Frequently Asked Questions]

May I draw whichever character I want? The purpose of this zine is to focus on Specters, so only characters that belong to this faction are allowed. There are more applicable characters than you think! Check the Reference List

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Example 1: as a Latin American, Niobe could differ in skin tone to the one seen on the official materials. However, characters like Pharaoh, who has a darker skin tone, should not be given a lighter one.

Example 2: if due to a personal headcanon, you believe a character has a certain scar or marking that is not seen in official materials, it can be included, but once again, please reach out to Staff for a case-by-case review.

What is the difference between an Alternate Universe [AU] and a Crossover? Some AU use popular tropes as a base, while a Crossover uses an already existing material as base. Examples:

Popular tropes for an AU: magic school, space fantasy/sci-fi

Existing material: Twisted Wonderland, Mass Effect [games], Little Witch Academia, Star Trek [series], Heralds of Valdemar, Dune [books]

So making a fanwork of the general "Saint Seiya × Magic School" or “Saint Seiya x space fantasy/sci-fi” concepts is an AU, but "Saint Seiya × Twisted Wonderland" or “Saint Seiya x Star Trek” are considered a crossover. In essence, heavy references to other existing fandoms are not allowed.

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Examples: ✅ Blood depictions/mentions of it ❌ Graphic/detailed gore, mutilation, or body horror  ✅ Sensual themes (e.g., pin up) ❌ Sexual themes (including, but not limited to: genitalia, specifically erotic gestures like blowjob, etc.)

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I’m a writer! What is an acceptable image for the credits page? You can send an official StS work, fanarts (as long as it is made by, gifted to, or commissioned by you), or a picrew-generated image (as long as the picrew allows that use)

May I include a watermark on my submission? Yes, we encourage you to submit already watermarked fanworks to the zine, but it is not mandatory.

Do I have to send something for the check-ins? Nope. Our check-ins act as reminders only so you know exactly how much time you have left to send your submission.

I’m unable to complete my submission and would like to withdraw. Is that okay? Yes, you can withdraw at any time, for any reason (you don’t need to explain). Please just let us know in advance.

[artemis-73]

Terror as Sharp as Pain

Artist: @alicetallula

Author: @artemis-73 / Artemis73 on AO3

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 10.8k

Tags/Warnings: IT Crossover, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Fix-it adjacent, Post-IT: Chapter Two (2019), Case Fic, Body Horror

Summary: After Jack brings Cas back from the Empty, everything almost returns to normal. Cas moves into The Bunker, they go back to hunting, and they do not talk about his confession. With the number of hunts dwindling, Team Free Will takes up a case in Derry, Maine, a town terrorized every 27 years by disappearances and violent deaths. Even though the cycle isn't due to repeat for another 19 years, they will have to face fear itself to free the town.

Preview:

Near the train yard across town, the Well House stands on Neibolt St. There are no street lamps or warm porch lights marking the way. The Impala's engine cuts through the quiet night, making the silence even deeper when Dean turns the car off.

"We're definitely closer," Cas says from the backseat, worry creasing his brow. It's a look Dean hasn't seen in a long time. He hates it. "My powers aren't... They don't like this place."

From the other side of the backseat, Mike shifts anxiously. "What powers?"

"Cas has some special abilities," Sam starts to explain, spinning out a vague explanation that doesn't come within 100 yards of the truth.

Hey, Cas, Dean tries praying. You gotta get better about mentioning your powers in front of civvies.

Cas just rolls his eyes.

One more thing, he continues, don't get dead.

"It's not my death I'm worried about," Cas snips.

Mike casts a horrified look between them, and Sam heaves a put-upon sigh.

"Dude, not helping," he groans.

"All you gotta know," Dean says, "is if everything else fails, Cas is our get out of jail free card. He's saved me more times than I can count."

They gather their sparse supplies and trek up the overgrown path to the derelict porch with Mike and Sam leading the way. Dean's seen a lot of haunted and abandoned houses in his day; they've hunted and squatted in their fair share. None of them have ever felt like this. If he was more superstitious or maybe less jaded, he'd say the house was evil. Evil leaks from its rotting roof and trails tendrils of decay down the walls. It pools on the floorboards and seeps into his boots. His skin tingles with gooseflesh, and the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

When he looks over, Cas is already watching him. They don't look away when Mike pushes the front door open or when Sam follows him inside.

"I don't want you going in there," Cas says.

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing."

Time is ticking. He can't leave Sam alone, but he doesn't want to go in just yet. He reaches over and, since there's no tie to straighten, fusses with the collar of the trench coat. Cas is wearing a blue tee shirt that nearly matches his eyes. It's one of Dean's favorites, though he's never said it.

He pulls his hand away, but quicker than he can blink, Cas seizes his wrist. His fingers are surprisingly soft; angel healing powers mean there's not a hint of a callus. His thumb slides along the thin skin of Dean's wrist, and even in the dark, Dean knows he's tracing one of his veins. Cas rebuilt him, after all, and knows him down to his very marrow.

"Please, be careful," Cas says to their hands. "Promise me."

The damndest thing is that Dean says, "I promise" before he can even think.

"Guys?" Sam calls from inside.

Right. They have a job to do.

Coming to @deancashorrorfest this October!

[yesimtrashforit]

I'm writing an ST fanfic!

Finally, I'm doing this:

I'm starting a fic! The working title is I Know Places.

I decided why the hell not? So I'm going to be posting chapters to this fic, a Stranger Things season 5 era fic about the defeat of Vecna once and for all (ft. our favorite gays, Byler and the icon that is Eleven and her journey to discover her own independence.)

I'll be posting the little prologue I wrote right after this post!

The chapters will be tagged under "#yesimtrashforit i know places" for easy location.

This story will be canon compliant as much as possible but with my own little interpretations of what could happen in season 5.

Things I'm including in this story:

-one or two of our favorite Byler gates

-Robin and Byler dynamic

-Badass El moments

-Byers Hopper family moments

-Badass Nancy Wheeler

-Lucas being our favorite boy as always

-Badass Lucas Sinclair bc I love him

-Platonic Stobin being absolutely iconic

-Sweet moments all around BUT THEN THE ANGST. Oh the angst.

-May or may not include major character death. I will put trigger warnings at the front of each chapter.

Anyways! PROLOGUE SHOULD BE UP RIGHT AFTER THIS POST. Just a lil preview of what's to come!

[pubbydreams]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨) ⁠— [𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰]

pairing: steddie fic summary: after two months of ignoring their increasing thoughts about one another, steve and eddie struggle to put themselves out of their misery. fic content notes: depiction of an autistic meltdown, internalized homophobia, nsfw - mdni, referenced past child abuse (emotional & verbal). preview notes: angst (i think that's it but pls let me know otherwise) preview wc: 793

“One,” she retorts, “I’m an academic scholar—”

“Ruth was an academic scholar,” he snorts.

“I was Rose, dingus. And fine, maybe she didn’t, but what, was I supposed to just leave you out here sulking all by yourself?” She stresses like he’s completely out to lunch.

“I’m— I wasn’t sulking!” He sneers, furious at just how quickly and easily she’s able to burrow under his skin.

“Steve, I could hear you wallowing from the other side of campus,” she whines, “it was majorly messing with my mojo.”

If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not sure what to say to that, and he’s way too tired to try to come up with something witty or sarcastic, so he just drops it. Anyway, she’s technically right, ‘cause he’s absolutely sulking. Not that he can really help it, but whatever.

“So…”

His heart may have finally calmed down, but her tone spikes his anxiety right back up again. If she’s going to dance around whatever it is, it must be bad, and he really doesn’t want to deal with bad right now, but he’d rather deal with it now than in five minutes or however long it takes for her to get to the point.

“Robin, whatever it is just say it, alright?” He begs, palms going a little sweaty.

She sucks a deep breath in through her teeth, and stretches her arms in front of her, biding her time in spite of him. Asshole.

“No, it’s nothing,” she lies, “I just wanted to know how you and Eddie are doing.”

“Me and Eddie?” He asks, ears going hot at the idea of there being a ‘him and Eddie.’

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got this weird thing going on, right?” She probes, suddenly really fascinated by the zipper on her backpack.

Alright, yeah, no, he’s not dealing with this.

“There is no thing going on,” he corrects.

“OK,” Robin mutters before ticking off his sins on her fingers, “I catch you canoodling in the den, you invite him to the pool party, the two of you disappear for like, an hour, then he runs out without saying goodbye—which you got super sad over, by the way—and, like, every single time I’ve mentioned him this last week you’ve gotten all weird.”

“I do not get weird!” He protests. “And we were not canoodling!”

As much as he hates to admit it, she’s right, and it sucks. What’s worse is that it’s been that obvious. In his own head, he’s actually been kind of proud of himself, thinking he’s done an alright job at hiding just how much it hurts to constantly be left with an Eddie shaped hole in his chest. What happened to him? He used to be better at hiding things, didn’t he?

She frowns, and it looks like it’s made of pity which makes him sick. “Look, Steve, as much as it pains me to say it, you’re my best friend. Do you really think I wouldn’t notice—"

“Robin. There’s nothing to notice. We’re friends. It’s just…it’s taking a bit to break in,” he insists, hating how goddamn defensive he sounds.

As far as best friends go, he’s really lucked out because the minute things get too heavy, she always backs out. Things are just about as heavy as they can get outside of the world ending, so he watches as the fight drains out of her.

“Fine, I’ll drop it. But Steve, in the Upside down…I know what it looks like to look at someone the way he looks at you,” she confesses, her words coming out all slow and serious.

As far as best friends go, he’s not sure he’s got a good one, ‘cause for as much as she claims to know about him, Robin doesn’t know a damn thing. If anything, he’s the one looking at Eddie. If anything, he’s the Robin, and Eddie’s Tammy Thompson. Yeah, sure, Eddie’s eyes are technically on him, but it’s temporary and doesn’t mean much more than a shaky friendship and mutually beneficial whatever. The look she thinks she’s seeing isn’t there. He should know.

“It’s not like that,” he stresses through a mutter.

She doesn’t believe him, obviously she doesn’t believe him, and she’s looking at him with so much understanding and disappointment he just wants to shrivel up and die.

“OK,” she says just as quietly.

It isn’t there, and it’s never going to be there, and the sooner he, and Robin, and whoever else accepts that, the better. Even if he’s going to milk every single second of Eddie’s attention—and do everything in his power to keep the focus on him—it’s silly and destructive to pretend that it means any more than it does.

hai, i'm pubby! if you enjoyed this little excerpt, please consider checking out the full fic on ao3!! have a great day!! ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა

read on ao3! ♡ masterlist ♡ kofi

[sciderman]

Sci,,, how are the spinnerets and nubbin fic coming along,,,

YOUUUUUUUU… I hate you. you know those fics completely fell off my plate too. I’ll get to them eventually. eventually. sneaky previews that you may or may not have seen before so that you know they’re on the burner. they’re cooking. give me time.

spinerrets,, feat. the hotly awaited return of the vibranium restraints from amazing fantasy

and nubbin,, with long-suffering sexually tortured peter parker. oh yep.

next fic on the burner is an unfortunate st patrick’s day fic in which peter parker is an unfortunate pining mess. she’s almost finished, and she’s very pathetic.

[jb-nonsense]

Working on the fic for Gale and my Galemancer OC, Gwenifar, and I'm giving you all a rough draft preview.

Background: Taking place ten years prior to the game, set when Gale had a case of pox when he was cared for by the Ilmatari in Waterdeep. Gwenifar, a novice cleric, is there to help with the pox outbreak.

Finally, he was looking at her. Blue eyes met brown as she waited for his reaction. Brown hair kept in a short, clean cut stuck to his forehead from the sweat of his fever and the pox was on his skin. Gwenifar realized how close she was, without proper protection, was very dangerous at the stage he was at, but she could not allow him to continue in his fevered state.

“Are you an angel?” The question took her off guard. She blinked, looking at him with furrowed brow. He still looked fevered, his cheeks flushed and eyes hazy. His voice was hoarse and tired from yelling, but there was a gentleness to it. “Because I can’t think of anything on this plane that could be so beautiful.”

Any thought took a quick flight out of her mind at that. Her hands loosened their grip on his wrists, and she sat back a bit, processing what he had said. Surely the fever had gotten to him. He was definitely seeing things, if he were to say something like that about her. She shook it off, focusing on getting him to calm down and come back to reality and see things as they were.

“You’re very sick,” she explained. “You’re at the Hospice of St. Laupsenn.” His hand reached up to touch her uncovered face and she reacted quickly, not wanting him to react negatively. She took his hand in her gloved ones, keeping her eyes on him. “We’re going to help you get better, but you need to go to sleep. Your fever is too high.” “You’ll stay with me?”

[twistthescript]

June Doe 2024: DAY 21- Summer Vacation

I started this prompt back in early May; yet, with how busy I've been, I wasn't able to finish the initial fic that I've started. So, until I can get around to finishing it, I present you with a drabble and a gift... in the form of a preview for the first fic:

Ocean Would Like to Live, Thank You; Rated G; Out of all the summer traditions known to mankind, Ocean thought drinking from the water hose was the worst.

@june-doe-2024

Preview to Tick-a Tick-a Heard The Crack! under the cut: Currently Rated T; The Choir goes to a theme park. It goes exactly how is expected.

A theme park. It had to be a theme park.

For the record, it started out just fine. They found a good parking spot… you know, that section right next to the handicap parking? That. After ten short minutes of clambering out of Mischa’s truck- and avoiding Ocean as she attempted to slather sunscreen on them for the fifth time that day, the St. Cassian Chamber Choir finally set off for the park. 

It wasn’t even an official choir trip, not really. Sure, they were the choir, and Father Marcus urged them to go on the trip (He’d caught them at the cafe sprawled out around a table)… “It should be good for you,” He’d said. Constance wasn’t sure why they let themselves be persuaded to go. Oh, right. Ocean.

Besides, they can’t back out now. Those tickets were a little steep.

It was fine, truthfully. The food was good- greasy (also expensive) like novelty park food should be… and the bumper cars were fun, you know, after waiting for an hour in line. Constance rubbed the kinks out of her neck. Ocean won. There was no surprise there.

“So… What next?” Mischa, for once, wasn’t on his phone. His fingers were intertwined with Noel’s, who had been tugging them closer and closer to the Ferris wheel at every step. Not that Mischa seemed to mind- his eyes had been locked on the boy for the past hour. Constance’s heart swelled at that. Good on him.

The map was shoved in her face before she could blink, a pale finger tapping against the paper. “The swings are right here, but also the scrambler is right around the corner. Noel said he wanted to go on the Ferris wheel… but that’s halfway across the park…” Ocean’s rambling never ceased to amaze Constance. The redhead was so animated and vibrant when she spoke- and with the afterlife turnaround…

“Yo… Penny!” Mischa exclaimed. Next to him, Noel was slack-jawed. “How in the hell?”

Constance came face to face with a huge stuffed lion, with two legs sticking from the bottom, visible from the knee down. “Penny, what? How?!” A laugh of utter disbelief tore from Constance’s throat. Leave them alone for an hour… they come back with that.

Ricky grinned as he wheeled up to them, stopping to tap out a message. Penny poked her head around the side of the giant plush as Ricky’s AAC device rang out. “We out-rigged the rigger.” 

“Hell yeah, we did!” Penny was visibly vibrating, her twin braids bouncing along with her.

Ocean crossed her arms. “Someone is going to have to hold that, you know. And it is not going to be me.” Constance nudged her. “We’ll take turns. It’s going to be great!” She grinned. “Where are we going next?”

[desertfangs]

St. Patrick's Cathedral [AO3]

Daniel Molloy - Mature - 3,360 words

After the events of Memnoch, Daniel senses something is wrong. When he learns that Armand has gone into the sun, his grief threatens to destroy him.

I wrote this months ago but was never sure when to post it. I looked back and my first fic last year was another angst fest so I guess maybe let's start the year with some heavy angst and sadness again. But never fear! You know me, I'll have some fluff soon. I'm writing some stuff for Valenfangs and I'm excited about that.

Short Preview:

Then he saw the news.

“Miracles,” they called them, as grainy footage showed an immortal burst into flame in the light of the sun. It was not Armand, he learned later—his immolation had not been captured by the news crews, as the cameras had been busy chasing the Veil. Damn that fucking veil! And damn these assholes on the news acting like these immolations were some evidence of god.

Daniel had no idea what was happening. They had to be vampires, surely, and that must have been what he’d felt. But why they were going into the sun for others to witness, he couldn’t begin to guess. He saw the reports of the Veil, but how it connected to his kind, he didn’t know.

And it wasn’t like he knew these immortals. Certainly they were strangers, vampires utterly unknown to him. None of the immortals that he knew would do that!

But he couldn’t shake the unease that had dug into his skin and buried itself in his bones. He called the two recent numbers he had for Armand, one in London, one for a mobile phone. No answer. He needed to talk to him. To see if he knew what was happening. Why it was happening. 

He didn’t pick up. Daniel’s mouth went dry. He needed blood but couldn’t stomach the thought. 

On a whim, he called the phone on Night Island. Got the answering machine. Left a short message. Didn’t think he was there.

But surely he wasn’t one of those on the screen! Armand was terrified of death, perhaps more so than Daniel had ever been. He would never…

He made arrangements to travel to New York.

Read It on AO3

[whitedarkmoonflower]

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

OK let's see. First of all thank you so much for the tags, my dear @alexagirlie, @thelettersfromnoone and @st-eve-barnes

I was actually sure that I don't have any WIPs apart from the one I'm writing right now - Part 3 of Feeling you, but as I got tagged again and again I decided that this needs a more thorough investigation 🤔

So I went to my google docs. You can't even imagine what a mess I have there 🤯. I really tend to stick to one idea and write it to the end, but in the process I create so many drafts with different variations of the story...

In between this chaos I actually found what I was looking for - those few docs that are more than just a cloud of ideas, but still not ripe enough to transform into fics and one real WIP - the Part 3 of the Reunited fic I have lowkey promised to write but always find some excuses not to 🙈.

So here we go:

Circus

Returning home

Make love to me tonight

Reunited Part 3

All of them are Sihtric x reader.

I'm tagging @synindoodles (I want a sneak preview into the next chapter of your fic 😅) @foxyanon (may be you have already something from the gorgeous vampire lady) @verenahx @little-diable @valeskafics (wanna know if you have something in preparation for Sihtric again). All of you just feel free to ignore me if you are not up to it 🥰

[saintseiya-zone]

We’re happy to announce the next SSZ Zine!

The theme will be autumn-oriented and you can collaborate with fanarts, fanfics, photos and cosplays. Stay updated by joining our Discord!

Sign-up timeframe: 1-15/Aug/2023 (extraordinary sign-up 16-23/Aug 23:59 UTC -6, Costa Rica time)

Sign-up form: here

Taken Character list: here

Deadline: 22/Oct/2023 23:59 UTC -6 (Costa Rica time)

Description (in text) and FAQ under the cut

[About the Zine]

Description: Autumn is coming, and with it, spookiness is rising. Imagine your favourite Saint Seiya characters in autumn-themed scenes from around the world!

Participation: You will submit one (1) original, new fanwork (older/already published work is not accepted) to be compiled into a zine. Please do not share your final work until the zine has been properly published by SSZ (you may, however, share WIPs, previews, and/or close-ups as you work on it)

Type: The final compilation of all fanworks will be a free, digital PDF file (no physical versions will be made, no money will be earned or paid)

Character: restricted to one (1) character to be the main focus of the fanwork submitted (for fics: 1-2 characters)

The Taken Character List will be updated daily at 19:00 UTC -6 (Costa Rica time) until the sign-up period is concluded. We appreciate your patience while this occurs. Once you are added to the list and your character is confirmed, you may start working on your submission.

** Please note this zine does not review/approve/reject sign-ups, everyone is welcome to take part in the activity as long as they sign up and follow guidelines. If there are any issues, we'll get back to you.

Deadline: 22/Oct/2023 23:59 UTC -6 (Costa Rica time). Fanworks submitted after this will not be included (this is non-negotiable). However, if you are facing challenges with your submission, let the staff know ASAP.

Submission: Send via email to saintseiyazone@gmail.com. The email subject should be "Saint Seiya in Autumn Zine, [Creator], [character/fic name]", and the file name should be:

Visuals: [Character name] - [Creator]

Fics: [Creator] - [Fic title]. Writers, please also include a 400x400 px image you want us to use in the credits page

Examples: 

Email Subject: Saint Seiya in Autumn Zine, El Cadejos, Alioth Fenrir 

Fic file: Zeuse - “Encallar”

[About the Submissions]

Art/Photography Canvas size: 300 dpi, JPEG 

2480 x 3508 px (portrait orientation) OR

3508 x 4960 px (landscape orientation)

Fics: docx file, prose, it doesn't have to be in English. You must include a title (please keep it short), but it won’t be considered towards final count

4 OR 6 full pages in total as exact as possible, Arial font, 11 pt, single space

Margins: 1 in (each)

Paper size: Letter (8.5 in x11 in)

There must be spaces between your paragraphs 

Allowed:

Age reinterpretation (e.g., an adult character as a child)

Alternative Universes

Other applicable characters (including OC), please check FAQ

Not allowed:

AI-generated content of any kind

NSFW/Explicit content (contact staff for case-by-case reviews)

Non-official genderbends

Crossovers with non-StS series

[Frequently Asked Questions]

May I draw whichever character I want? As the purpose of this zine is to include as many characters from the Saint Seiya universe as possible to bring variety into the final product, submission types have the following limitations:

Fanarts: 1 main character per submission (restricted ✪)

Fics: focus on 1-2 main characters per submission (not restricted)

Cosplays: 1 main character per submission (not restricted)

Merch Photographs: 1 main character per submission (not restricted)

Before filling out the sign-up form, check the Taken Character list. For fanarts, you'll input 5 different options, from your top choice to least. Your final selection will be made visible later that day. This is on a First Come, First Served basis.

✪ This means there will be only 1 fanart per character, no duplicates

May I include more than one character in my submission? Yes, as long as there is a clear hierarchy where your chosen character is the main focus. Original Characters (OCs) may also be included in the background as long as they follow this guideline. There is no problem if those secondary characters are already taken, or if the mix of characters would not make sense in the official material (for example, Sasha interacting with Hilda).

May I use spinoff characters? Sure! All characters officially included in the Saint Seiya universe are applicable (except those without an official visual design, like Chronos). Please note that even though there are characters with different versions across the franchise [ex: Aiolia], they are not counted as different options for the Zine, so if said character is already taken, no other version of them will be available. The only exceptions to this rule are Milo (Legend of Sanctuary) and Shaun (Knights of the Zodiac).

I changed my mind about the character I chose, and the new one is still available. Can I switch? To prevent confusion and misunderstandings, all character selections are final and cannot be changed/traded.

Can I switch from one contribution type to another (e.g., fanart to fic) after I signed up? To prevent confusion and misunderstandings, all contribution type selections are final.

Am I allowed to change certain aspects of a character’s official design? It depends on the aspect, and should be reviewed case-by-case.

Example 1: as a Latin American, Io could differ in skin tone to the one seen on the official materials. However, characters like Hagen and Aldebaran, who have darker skin tones, should not be given lighter tones.

Example 2: if due to a personal headcanon, you believe a character has a certain scar or marking that is not seen in official materials, it can be included, but once again, please reach out to Staff for a case-by-case review.

What qualifies as "autumn-themed"? This season is experienced differently all around the world, which is why the theme is broad on purpose. Any activity, scenery, meal, clothing, and celebration that is typical of this season is applicable. That includes (but is not limited to) All Hallow's Eve, Día de Muertos, Thanksgiving, Diwali, leaf color change viewing, and more.

What is the difference between an Alternate Universe [AU] and a Crossover? Some AU use popular tropes as a base, while a Crossover uses an already existing material as base.

Examples:

Popular tropes for an AU: magic school, space fantasy/sci-fi

Existing material: Twisted Wonderland, Mass Effect [games], Little Witch Academia, Star Trek [series], Heralds of Valdemar, Dune [books]

So making a fanwork of the general "Saint Seiya × Magic School" or “Saint Seiya x space fantasy/sci-fi” concepts is an AU, but "Saint Seiya × Twisted Wonderland" or “Saint Seiya x Star Trek” are considered a crossover. In essence, heavy references to other existing fandoms are not allowed. Could you please elaborate on what is/isn’t considered Not Safe For Work (NSFW)? If it is not appropriate for a general, non-specialized office work environment, then it is not accepted.

Examples: ✅ blood depictions/mentions of it ❌ graphic/detailed gore, mutilation, or body horror  ✅ sensual themes (e.g., pin up) ❌ sexual themes (including, but not limited to: genitalia, specifically erotic gestures like blowjob, etc.) 

May I submit more than one work?  If, after the sign-up period is over, you would like to collaborate with a second submission, reach out to us. You may send different submission types if you want (e.g., 1 fanart and 1 fic). Please bear in mind the second character must still be available for you to take.

The sign-up timeframe already passed. Can I still join? The extraordinary period is 16-23/Aug. Please check the Taken Character List first to ensure the one you want is available, fill out the form, and contact staff (El Cadejos, Zeuse) so we can add you to the list. After this extraordinary period, sign-up will be officially closed.

May I include a watermark on my submission? Yes, we encourage you to submit already watermarked fanworks to the zine.

I’m a writer! What is an acceptable image for the credits page? You can send an official StS work, fanarts (as long as it is made by you, gifted to you, or commissioned by you), or a picrew-generated image (as long as the picrew allows that use)

What are check-ins? Do I need to send something?  Nope. Our check-ins act as reminders only, so you know exactly how much time you have left to send your submission.

I’m unable to complete my submission and would like to withdraw. Is that okay? Yes, you can withdraw at any time, for any reason (you don’t need to explain). Please just let us know in advance.

[a-strange-inkling]

I LOVE Old Haunts ❤️❤️❤️❤️

A few questions:

Do you have a link to your Pinterest???? I'd love to see your inspiration

Would you ever do a post for Chrissy's outfits during the 1986 timeframe? We don't really see her outwith the cheerleading uniform but I feel you would come up with something great

Also would you do further outfit posts on 90s Chrissy for fall, Christmas and spring/summer?

No pressure though 💐

Oh! Thank you! 🥰🥰🥰

I actually have been moving my pins to a new account I just made that’s dedicated only to hellcheer (some plain st stuff too) and my fics. I was using my personal one for everything before and it was sort of haphazard. You’re more than welcome to check it out, not everything’s transferred over yet and it still needs some work, but lots of stuff to see if you’re interested: https://pin.it/1lCFbpQ

DISCLAIMER: All boards are just concepts and ideas, nothing pinned means it’s necessarily OH canon (just so I don’t start controversies over the wedding dress, I haven’t decided on a particular one yet, but I do want it to be a little vintage cause I think Chrissy might wear May’s old dress 😭😭😭)

Oh anon, ask and ye shall receive! I have so many pins for her 80s highschool looks, you’re more than welcome to see the rest on the board, but here’s a preview:

So, we only ever had these two outfits outside of her cheer uniform

So, I’ve always assumed my girl likes her pastels 😝 (the pink sleeveless dress is probably a homecoming look, I side with Captain Grace and go along with her headcanon that she had a yellow/gold prom dress even though instinctively I’d have thought blue or pink)

And yesss 90s fall! She really is quite taken with brown 🤎🤎🤎

And some Christmas/New Years looks, she goes all out for Christmas, it’s her favorite holiday:

And my favorite thing is that being a 90s mom, you know for a fact she and the girls got the matching Christmas dresses from Sears like this:

because she had to, it’s a right of passage 🤣

And also she totally rocked one of these flannel granny night dresses their first Christmas in Chicago when she was pregnant with Livvy: