i wrote this in like an hour so please forgive the quality but here's some gentle steddie set somewhere in the early 90's
mentions of canonical violence and trauma, but otherwise just a gentle morning scene
5:30 am found Eddie Munson on the back porch steps, watching their liver spotted dalmatian patrol the fence-line with her usual level of seriousness. Ronnie moved like a spectre in the half-light, her edges all blurred and smudged until she stopped to sniff at a weed and became solid again.
The cherry of his cigarette flared bright on his inhale as he brought his knees further into his chest, feet crossed over one another like he could trap the warmth in if he just curled up tight enough. With autumn creeping closer, the mornings were getting crisp.
Luckily, his ears were warm under both his hair and the hood of his jumper,but his legs were prickly with goosebumps thanks to his habit of grabbing whatever was on the floor. This time it was Steve's basketball shorts, the one's that used to be trackpants until he'd taken scissors to them in the summer of '88.
They definitely weren't suited for cooler weather, but they were comfortable and Eddie kind of liked the distraction the chill brought. It was harder to get stuck in memories of snapping bones and dead motors and being eaten by bats when your toes were trying not to freeze off.
Eddie sniffled without tears and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, bringing his smoke back to his lips for another drag. His hands were shaking, but it had nothing to do with the weather.
He'd dreamed of Chrissy again.
The problem with an overactive imagination, is that it could always make your nightmares worse.
After weeks of stress free dreaming, he'd wound up back in his trailer last night, but this time he'd known Chrissy's favourite song. Playing it hadn't worked, and instead the bats had come pouring from her mouth like it was it's own gate. They'd swarmed him before he even had a chance to run, breaking free through the windows and those damn vents before tearing him and Hawkins apart.
He'd woken in his and Steve's bed, in the house they bought with their shady government money, sweat slicked and on fire. His skin was tight and itchy as he'd crept out of bed, tapping the dog awake to take her outside and grabbing his smokes from the dresser.
Ronnie chose then to drop her favoured rope at his feet, head ducked and eyes flitting from between him and the toy hopefully, tail wagging. Eddie secured his cigarette between his lips so he could distract her with a scratch behind her ears, and grabbed the toy with his free hand before she could react. She'd turn it into a game of tug-o-war if he wasn't careful, and it was impossible to ask her to drop it when it took both hands just to keep hold of the thing.
The rope sailed across the backyard in a high arc, and Ronnie almost tripped over her own paws in her haste to get to it.
A few more throws later, the sky was brighter and the back door opened with a familiar wheeze behind him.
Eddie didn't turn as he threw Ronnie's toy again, but listened to Steve quietly walk closer and settle down beside him with a soft grunt.
A moment later, his cigarette was stolen from right between his fingers, but when he turned to complain, Eddie was met with a steaming mug shaped like a bear. He took it with hands that were steadier than they'd been 10 minutes ago.
Steve, meanwhile, had tucked the cigarette between his own lips like he used too when he was trying to seem cool and impressive (before they got their shit together), and unfolded the blanket he'd brought out with him.
It settled over both of their shoulders while Eddie sipped his coffee, feeling it's journey all the way down to his stomach. He watched Ronnie register Steve's presence and come bounding over.
She stopped in front of them with the rope toy swinging from her mouth, tail picking up enough speed to move her hips with it when Steve signaled for her to drop it.
Steve generally wasn't verbal this early in the morning, preferring to sign until the world felt awake enough for voices. Luckily their dog was deaf too, even if she was cheeky about ignoring signals by pretending not to see them.
Finally, Ronnie relented, dropping the rope between Steve's ridiculous old-man slippers as he passed the cigarette back to Eddie. She graciously accepted her vigorous head scratches as reward.
Eddie huffed a laugh and tapped off the excess ash, taking another drag and waiting until the dog was tearing off after her toy to pass it back to Steve.
He accepted the smoke with a smile and didn't ask why Eddie was awake so early, or why he hadn't bothered to dress warmer. Just made sure the blanket was wrapped around him properly, and pressed a kiss to his temple over the top of his hood.
Eddie sighed from somewhere deep and tired inside him and let his head drop onto Steve's shoulder, feeling it drop as he exhaled smoke towards the rising sun.
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Vampire pearl for a prompt?
"Hey, guys, have you seen- oh!"
Pearl raised her head, long ears twitching in surprise, and Impulse glanced back over his shoulder towards the entrance, wincing slightly as he did. "Oh, hi, Gem!" he called. "What's up?"
Gem, standing in the doorway of the keep, had her eyes notably averted, staring very hard at a patch of floor. "Sorry!" she said, flushing. "I didn't realize you were, um. Busyyyyy?"
Impulse blinked, confused. He stayed confused as Pearl started to shake with silent laughter where she was kneeling over his lap, clapping one hand to her mouth to keep from making a mess. "What? Gem?"
Pearl, after a moment, finally managed to swallow her mouthful of blood and gasp out, still laughing, "No, it's not like that, Gem! Promise!"
Gem's eyes flickered back up, finally, and widened. "Impulse! You're bleeding!"
"No! ...Well, yes," Impulse admitted. Pearl twitched, apparently reminded of the line of punctures now freely bleeding down his neck, and dove down to hastily lick up the drips with approximately the same haste as someone eating a rapidly melting ice cream cone. "It's fine, though! I'm fine!" he hastened to add. "This is, uh. An arrangement we've had since last season."
Pearl nodded against his neck, licking the bite mark clean before sitting up to face Gem over his head, propping her bony elbows on his shoulders. She looked, to her credit, distinctly sheepish. "It's a vampire bat thing," she said. "I don't need a lot of blood, but about, eh, once a month or so? And Impulse is a big guy." She patted him on the shoulder. "He can usually spare me plenty."
"You only love me for my robust circulatory system, is that it?" Impulse said, grinning.
"Excuse me! You're also good for moving heavy objects," Pearl objected.
"Ohhh-kay," Gem said, finally leaving the spot where she'd been frozen by the door and walking over. "You should've just said! That's way less weird than what I thought I walked in on."
"...Is it?" Pearl asked.
"Wait, what did you think you walked in on?" Impulse said, at the same moment.
"Well, sure," Gem answered Pearl. "Deer are omnivorous, you know!" She grinned, all teeth, vaguely threatening.
"Hm," Pearl said thoughtfully, crossing her arms on top of Impulse's head. "Say, do you know your blood type?"
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what's this? a mermay after party?
that's right, everyone! your very own floyd leech will be hosting an event from june 1st to june 8th!!
the event will make use of a debtors marine life knowledge (totally not because they decided to sign a contract for a date with azul nuhuh) and assign you or your ocs a new personalized marine life nickname (that isn't shrimpy!!)
all you have to do is move those little shrimpy legs over to @azulashengrottospiano's ask box and provide a short description of your personality, hobbies, or anything else you'd like to include (for ocs, a reference sheet and a short description will do!!)
please reply to this post with any questions and the debtor will get back to you asap C:
(full disclosure if you or your oc reminds the debtor of a shrimp they will give you a specific species to make it more personalized. C:)
he can't wait to see you there!!
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to me, the question of whether hera would want a body is first and foremost a question of autonomy and ability. she has an internal self-image, i think it's meaningful that the most pivotal moments in her character arc take place in spaces where she can be perceived the way she perceives herself and interact with others in a (relatively) equal and physical capacity, and that's worth considering. but i don't think it's about how she looks, or even who she is - and i think she's the same person either way; she's equally human without a body, and having a body wouldn't make her lived experience as an AI magically disappear - so much as it's about how she would want to live.
like most things with hera, i'm looking at this through a dual lens of disability and transness, both perspectives from which the body - and particularly disconnect from the body - is a concern. the body as the mechanism by which she's able to interact with the world; understanding her physical isolation as a product of her disability, the body as a disability aid. the body as it relates to disability, in constant negotiation. the body as an expression of medical transition, of self-determination, of choice. as a statement of how she wants to be seen, how she wants to navigate the world, and at the same time reckoning with the inevitable gap between an idealized self-image and a lived reality, especially after a long time spent believing that self-image could never be visible to anyone else.
it's critical to me that it should never imply hera's disability is 'fixed' by having a body, only that it enables her to interact with the world in ways she otherwise couldn't. her fears about returning to earth are about safety and ability; the form she exists in dictates the life she's allowed to lead and has allowed people to invade her privacy and make choices for her. dysphoria and disability both contribute to disembodiment - in an increasingly digitized world, the type of alienation that feels like your life can only exist in a virtual space... maybe there's something about the concept of AI embodiment, in particular as it relates to hera, that appeals to me because of what it challenges about what makes a 'real woman.' when it's about perception, about how others see her and how she might observe / be impacted by how she's treated differently, even subconsciously. it's about feeling more present in her life and interfacing with the world. but it's not in itself a becoming; it doesn't change how she's been shaped by her history or who she is as a person.
i think it comes back to the 'big picture' as a central antagonistic force in wolf 359, and how - in that context, in this story - it adds a weight to this hypothetical choice. hera is everywhere, and she's never really anywhere. she's got access to more knowledge than most people could imagine, but it's all theoretical or highly situational; she doesn't have the same life experiences as her peers. she has the capacity to understand that 'big picture' better than most people, but whatever greater portion of the universe she understands is nothing next to infinity and meaningless without connection and context. it's interesting to me that hera is one of the most self-focused and introspective people on the show. her loyalties and decisions are absolute, personal, emotionally driven. she's lonely; she always feels physically away from the others. she misremembers herself sitting at the table with the rest of the crew. she imagines what the ocean is like. there's nothing to say that hera having a body is the only solution for that, but i like what it represents, and i honestly believe it'd make her happier than the alternatives. if there's something to a symbolically narrowed focus that allows for a more solid sense of self... that maybe the way to make something of such a big, big universe is to find a tiny portion of it that's yours and hold onto it tight.
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