#uhhhhh what other tags do i give this

[justifiedthoughts]

Alhaitham & Kaveh Headcanons

Okay, so, I'm currently working on a really-fucking-long headcanons post. Due to certain aspects of the post, I remembered that I had these deep within my notes app.

As to why they're deep in my notes? Well, they were simply never allowed to see the light of day, as the blog that I dumped them into the inbox of (as an anon) got deleted before they ever got posted/replied to.

Why was I anon posting large amounts of headcanons despite literally having a blog? Simple! My confidence was (and still is) absolute trash. I still sometimes headcanon dump under an anon name from lack of confidence of doing it on my own blog-

Anyway, Headcanons are under the read line. For the most part, I just directly copy/pasted from my notes app, including my greetings to the blog that I had originally sent these to - I just removed the anon signature that I used.

Mind the tags, but that's a given with kink, no?

Hihi hello, yes I’m still alive, and don’t worry about how long you might take! I’ve been fading on and off Tumblr anyway without the ability to ramble about making my current-favorite ship suffer in their digestive issues.

Anyway, time for me to dump whatever I come up with on you! Probably more Kavetham, because I’m still vibrating in fluffy enjoyment.

Note: Some are kink-related, some are not.

(Kaveh)

Travels to other nations sometimes, just so he can observe the architecture. Yes, he does bother Al-Haitham into joining him for quite a few of them (Acting-Grand Sage period = work break!).

Will go on random spiels about architecture, sometimes rambling for hours without end.

Special interest :)

Most common victim to these rambles is Al-Haitham, ~~not that he minds.~~

Did I mention my lactose intolerant Kaveh headcanon yet? Because that definitely exists deep within my mind.

It gives him bubbly guts, and with that comes a whole slew of gas, both with those hard-to-release burps and numerous farts.

He’s usually just left in discomfort for the rest of the day, though sometimes he’d end up bloating fairly heavily.

Too embarrassed to go out into public when he does bloat, usually ends up shutting himself into his room under the pretext of working on a blueprint. In reality, he’s curled up on his bed, miserable.

Al-Haitham eventually shows up due to the odd silence of the house (since Kaveh’s not being his loud self, which is very rare and very concerning, in Al-Haitham’s POV).

Doesn’t even bother knocking, considering it’s his house anyway

Only slightly off-put by Kaveh’s positioning.

Kaveh notices the rude intrusion, but simply ignores it beyond curling slightly more around his bloated stomach.

He does, however, acknowledge Al-Haitham’s presence when he’s literally dragged out of bed.

Turns out, for some inane reason, the younger wants him to taste-test a dish he’s cooking.

He complies, of course; pointing out that there’s not enough salt in it (and quietly complaining over the lack of spice, but that’s a losing battle with Al-Haitham, for multiple reasons)

The entire scene actually distracts him from his earlier sulking, and soon enough he’s seated with the more-salty dish and adding assorted dashes of spices to the otherwise bland dish.

Never actually realizes that Al-Haitham had distracted him until he’s in bed that night, about to fall asleep.

(Al-Haitham)

I brought this up on my first-ever submission to you, and I’ll bring it up again: Al-Haitham vs. Liyuean food.

From what I can remember, most of Liyue’s native dishes have spices in them. Specifically, Jueyun Chilis. Which are apparently one of the spiciest food ingredients currently in existence for the Genshin world.

(Description pulled from game) “…Merely smelling it makes one hot and thirsty…[The spiciness] makes people want to run to the highest peaks of Jueyun and cool their mouths with chilly air.”

Perhaps he’ll do some forward research about Liyuean dishes so that he knows what to avoid, but maybe he’d end up pushed into trying one without knowing beforehand.

Kaveh would likely be distracting him with one of his rambles over Liyue’s architecture - who probably wouldn’t immediately realize that the dish had chilis in it.

Instantly realizes his mistake the moment the heat actually hits his senses, but it’s already too late.

Cue the various ‘realization’ reactions:

Trembling so much that even Kaveh notices.

Uneasily resting a hand over his stomach, just waiting for the first upset gurgle to break out.

Small anxiety tics, like being unable to keep his eyes on a specific spot for even a small period of time.

Visibly cringes with the first noises his stomach starts to make, already trying to muffle it to the best of his ability.

Did I mention that they’re eating out in public? Because this is the scene that my brain’s generating.

Holds in his gas, simply because of his own embarrassment of having to deal with his… ‘intolerance’ in public.

Of course, that motion only worsens his situation, since his abdomen starts to bloat up from the trapped gas.

At some point, Kaveh prods into Al-Haitham’s internal panic, inquiring to the younger on ‘if he’s alright’ and whatnot.

Al-Haitham would glare at him for even bothering to ask such a thing, if he had the willpower to.

As it is, he simply bites out a small, almost ashamed-sounding “It has spices in it.”

I’d like to think that they’ve definitely known each other long enough for Kaveh to know the foreboding realization on just what that means.

(…Me realizing that I never did list out my eructo headcanons for Al-Haitham, which I will definitely do at some point!)

Al-Haitham getting startled by a sudden, breathy burp, which brings up another taste of the chilis, at which point he ends up downing an entire glass of water in one go in order to cool his mouth for even a moment.

The sudden influx of a fair portion of a rather cold liquid does his stomach no favors, as the unsettled organ continues to audibly gurgle alongside the sloshing from the amount of liquid in it.

Perhaps while all this is going on, Kaveh manages to take charge and pay for their short meal, packing up the spiced dish for himself and rounding the table to try to get Al-Haitham up so that they can be somewhere more private than whatever diner they’re currently at.

Al-Haitham moves slowly, noticeably paler than usual as he struggles to simultaneously hold in his gas, muffle the various noises his stomach is making, and make it seem like he’s having no such issues to the average passersby.

Kaveh ends up carefully leading him back to where they’re staying, since the younger’s too distracted with his intestinal distress to pay much more attention than the bare minimum.

Probably ends up resting on a semi-comfortable chair near the bathroom, cradling his stomach as it truly starts to kick up a chili-induced storm.

Harsher gurgles, leading with equally (if not more so) harsh cramps.

Since he’s not dealing with public embarrassment anymore, he does actually begin to let out the bubbly farts produced from this mess.

Some of them simply refuse to come out, keeping him bloated as he desperately tries to rub and press in an attempt to just get it out. (He doesn’t even care that Kaveh’s present, it hurts too much for him to try to bring himself to care about that minor fact.)

He can’t stop shaking. Be it from a generalized discomfort of his current situation, to the stress and nerves getting to him, his body simply will not stop trembling.

Kaveh probably would end up prying in to try to help Al-Haitham at some point, inevitably pushing aside one of the younger’s hands to be able to get his own hands on site, in order to finally be able to properly help.

In one timeline, maybe Al-Haitham eventually gets pressed with an urgent need, leading to him rushing into the bathroom and… dealing, with the rest of it himself.

In another timeline, maybe he doesn’t get that sort of agonizing relief, as his stomach continues with its raging gurgles, cramping and churning all the way until he perhaps ends up just passing out from the pain of it all.

Nah bc I just headcanon-formatted an entire story or so in the span of a few hours.

[my-name-is-jefferooni]

And this is why I refuse to pay for streaming. 👍

It pisses me the fuck off how streaming services are trying to put in adds, when the WHOLE POINT of streaming services are TO WATCH THINGS WITHOUT ADDS.

They’re just tuning it into slightly more convenient cable at this point.

[altcvnningham]

hungry

william "case" calderon x f!reader x adler

summary: messy drabble inspired by this ask, where i can absolutely imagine a threeway with case and adler <3

tags/cw: nsfw, mdni, fem!reader, dubcon (at first), threesome, oral (giving and receiving), groping mention, light spitroasting, established case x reader, case 'shares' reader, adler is a sicko who hates seeing other bitches have what he wants, copious use of the word "pretty" wc: 1k

a/n: a snippet i might write more to if i can be bothered. unedited, messy, and sloppy as the head i'm gonna give them both. i just needed to get this idea out of my mind before it drove me insane. i still feel shy posting smut and i only had enough steam for just a drabble so sorry if it's uhhhhh not good,,,

It’s like being pulled in two completely different directions- greedy hands groping in all places, guttural grunting against your ear and into your neck, cornered by two wild animals, rabid and snarling. By no means are they ignorant of your needs, but it does get lost in the white haze of bliss as they both selfishly chase their own pleasure into you.

Hungry, is the only word that comes to mind when you let them take you, share you, like a wounded lamb torn between two wolves; the glint in Case’s eye evident of some faraway fantasy of his being fulfilled as he watches you get ruined by somebody else, someone with hands just as dirty- if not dirtier- as his; the foggy look in Adler’s indicative of a kind of possessiveness that you could practically feel burning into you whenever he glowered at you across a room, worse whenever you were with Case. Always a wretched dog, starving for what isn’t his. Never liking to seeing someone with a shiny toy he isn’t allowed to sink his teeth into. It was all inevitable, that it would happen like this. Only really a matter of when.

You’re wide-eyed and helpless when Case presses you down into the mattress, a firm hand on your tummy, pinning you like a moth as your legs kick and flail around his hips. Your head spills back so sweetly when you hear Adler’s heavy footsteps behind you- or, at least Case thinks so, his pretty girl- hair dangling in tangled tresses off the edge of the bed as you watch, upside-down, as Adler leisurely saunters over to you, unbuckling his belt.

The image of yourself laid bare upon the bed reflects in his glasses, your own doe-eyed expression mocking you with your shameless submission. You catch the flit of a smirk tug at Adler’s mouth as he tilts his head down at you. You don’t need to see his eyes to know he’s looking at you- like, really looking at you, raking down your figure and eating this picture of you up, not knowing if this first time seeing you this way might also be the last. Case is being such a good sport, sharing you like this. Adler wouldn’t want it to go to waste rushing himself, being unappreciative. You’re just too pretty- he’s wondered what you’d look like under those clothes for weeks.

You see in that same reflection Case’s body close over yours, mouthing over your breasts, down your abdomen, kissing- ow, biting- between your thighs, before he takes your legs and slings them limply over his shoulders. You go to crane your neck back down to watch as he pushes his face into your cunt but Adler’s hand from behind you finds its way down the column of your throat, uncharacteristically careful as he coaxes your head back, and tucks his thumb under your jaw to turn your face to the side. You gaze upward, so sweet and silly as your mouth parts in shock, hearing the sound of him smacking his cock against your hollowed cheek before you see him doing it- if you had any protest at all it’d go unheard with how he tuts at you anyway, so condescending when he nudges the head against your pouting lips and crooning about how that mouth’s too pretty not to take it for me, sweetheart.

You cry out as Case’s tongue licks a thick, languid stripe over your clit, and Adler uses your gasping mouth to push his cock inside. You’d already been drooling nonsense when they’d groped you in the hallway, bullying you into pliant submission, all your babbling please don’t and someone will hear and you’re being too rough only serving to make your mouth nice and hot and wet for when he fucks it. And he groans, so appreciative of you, of that pretty mouth your girl’s got, Case, and he fucks it slow, just to show you how much he likes it. Savouring every inch he feeds you, that your tongue curls up eagerly to taste. The thick intrusion, nearly too much to bear, has you gagging almost immediately, reflexively jerking your head back to breathe, but Adler’s hand slides into your hair and keeps you still, steady, insisting it’s easier that way. Relax, he murmurs dryly. You barely hear him over the sound of Case’s starved moaning as he eats you out.

But when Case gets too impatient, his own need stifling, he clambers over you, slots himself between your thighs clumsily, jostling you around enough to push your throat up further on Adler’s length; it hits the back of your throat with a shrill cry and you all but weep when Case slides into you, trembling hands grasping his shoulders as he fills you to the hilt in one careless thrust.

Between your pathetic noises you hear Adler laugh, a snide and condescending chuckle as his hand brushes your hair back from your face, mutterings of how precious you look taking it all so well. You never thought you’d feel so enamoured by his praise, when it’s uttered so mockingly. So different from Case’s, who gasps between sucking your tits, that you’re so perfect, baby, so fucking sweet. A swell of pride as you slacken your throat, earning a broken moan from Adler when you swallow him deeper. Doesn’t much matter that you choke and gag and spring tears to your eyes at the pressure- somehow even the asphyxiation feels like a reward, evidence of your effort. Case is slack-jawed as he fucks you, slow and languid, airy and mindless with eyes fixed on your sweat-sodden face as you take Adler so willingly, so obedient. In his delirium, hypnotised at the sight of you blissed out and skewered between them both, he draws a thumb up to stroke your cheek, to feel where Adler stuffs the hollow of it.

Perfect girl.

[thehistoriangirl]

Hey bestieee can I get uhhhhh.......what u think vik would like to get as a present for the holidays and what he would give reader in return

Hi bestie! Of course ^^ here is it, hope you like it <3

Loving Gifts

Viktor x Fem!(Artist!)Reader----1.2K----SFW

Tags: Established Relationship | Domestic Fluff | Slightly Suggestive at the end |

A dry, cold winter air flowed across the wide boulevards in the Commercial District, with Viktor adjusting the cozy red blanket around his neck to cover up his mouth and nose. With the sky rapidly tinted orange, he saw the Christmas lightning starting to turn on in each of the buildings around him.

He leaned against a wall, consulting the list tucked inside his pocket. 

-Dress (?)

-Custom jewelry  -> next anniversary. 

-Set of pastels (?)

Viktor had been cracking his brain to think about a gift for you ever since the coming of autumn. Last year, he had crafted you a lamp in the shape of a cherry tree, the one that was next to your drawing table, sending pink and golden hues around your atelier like in a perpetual dusk. 

This year, however, he had no idea what to give you, which made him feel quite anxious every time he entered a store, watching around the shelves to see if something caught his attention, like a call, only to end up with empty hands and another blow of gelid wind as he walked toward other business. 

What if he gave you something you didn’t like? He could imagine your eyes dropping slightly and the tense smile expanding your lips. For all the time you’d been together, Viktor had acquired the ability to read you like his favorite book.

He already had a little custom music box half-finished in his lab, kept inside the only drawer that held a key so you wouldn’t find it those times you liked to help him clean his workstation, waiting for Viktor to finish his job for the day. He snuck inside the Music Faculty to ask for a recording of the song that got you both together at the Academy Anniversary Foundation Gala two years ago when he gathered his courage to ask you for a dance.

Viktor smiled at the memory, the characteristic smell of oil and wood familiar as he entered the arts and crafts store you frequent, many of those visits with his arm interlocked in yours. 

The saleswoman smiled at him. “Hello, Sir, what can I help you with?” she said. “Is the Ma'am sick?”

“Ah—” he hung his lips ajar at the name ‘Ma’am’, because you two weren’t married, though you never corrected her, so, why would he? “No. I came here for her… eh, her Christmas gift.”

“Oh, of course!” She responded with a wide beam; her brown eyes squinted. “Do you have something in mind?”

Viktor looked around the clean and organized store, with wooden pencils and brushes, lines of canvas shown behind the counter, and a thousand rainbows shown in sets of crayons, pencils, pastels, and oil paintings.

“Yes. One of your set of pastels, please.” Viktor tapped his fingers along the handle of his cane, looking at the people walking hand by hand passing by him. He sighed, consulting his pocket watch. It was strange the way he’d grown to miss you, just comparable to how he yearned to keep inventing, to keep creating.

“Can you wrap it with newspaper?” he added. “She’s rather… curious, you see.” If you saw a box wrapped in gift paper, there was no doubt you’d start to peek. He thought you were just as mischievous as a cat. And just as adorable. 

“Of course, Sir.” For some minutes, the empty store filled with the sound of paper folding and tape being cut. “Here you have it. Careful, there. It’s heavier than it looks.”

“Thank you.” Viktor put the gift under his free arm, walking out of the store once he had paid.

The air hit even colder now that he had imagined how warm your embrace would be once he arrived home.

“But first,” he mumbled to himself, accommodating his beret and scarf before restarting his walk up the hill. “Let’s hide this in the lab.”

*~*~*~*

You put the photograph aside after watching it for the thousandth time, gently sliding it inside a book as you continue to paint the last details of Eve’s dress, the patches of clothes sewn into the fabric twin to the ones in little Viktor’s pants.

He looked so happy, standing between his parents with pride—you hoped you could mimic the childish delight on his face with your painting. Even if you weren’t good at restoring photos, why shouldn’t you replicate the image in your personal style?

Viktor had shown you the photo after some months of dating, getting it out of his notebook with its edges winkled and the paper thin for being held so much; the brown surface dotted with multiple stains. And yet, love kept emanating from it.

Now, Viktor would have the memory on a bigger canvas he could hang whenever he wished. You hoped he liked the gift, though it’ll be quite obvious wrapped under the tree once the painting was ready—you wished to give him only the best, just as he did with you. 

The brush slid against the canvas, wrist swaying to paint the thin decorative lines of the wallpaper inside his childhood home, the edge of a cold hearth behind the family tree, with Viktor sitting on a chair in the middle of his parents, the familiar toy boat in his lap. 

A smile grazed your face, looking at the round face of the small boy, amber eyes shining even in the now dim photograph. You were blessed with that gaze, too, every time he talked about his new projects and ideas, with the lamp on the nightstand giving his eyes a shine that could rival the stars.

Even when Viktor looked at you, a smile so big you could his adorable tooth gap.

You heard the entrance door creak open, settling your brush down in a vase with water.

“Moje láska, I’m home,” Viktor said, his voice muffled through the closed door of your studio. “Where are you, hmm?”

“I’m going!” You almost interrupted him, carrying the canvas toward the far end of the room, facing the closed window. 

Viktor was expecting you in the hallway, an eyebrow raised upon seeing your hands, and fingers stained with paint.

“Working still, my muse?” he muttered playfully, his hands intertwined with yours as he pulled you against him to give you a kiss on the forehead, then another on the cheek, to finally grace your lips with his own. 

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to give him another, longer, kiss. 

“Yes, handsome,” you teased, poking his cheek that was starting to dust with a pink shade. 

“Should I let you work, then?” He hummed, his hands on your hips. “Wouldn’t like to delay your duties and get you in trouble.”

“Not at all. I only have to let the paint dry to start with the new layer tomorrow.” Tugging his hand, you pried away from the studio, so Viktor couldn’t ask to see the painting and spoil the surprise. “Come on, let’s have dinner together.”

Viktor chuckled, his thumb smudging a droplet of paint across the reverse of your palm. “Maybe I should bathe you first,” he said, eyes twinkling. “You’re always a masterpiece but today… eh, you have more paint on you.”

You laughed, one of your hands over Viktor’s. “Naughty.” Leaning closer to him, you pretended to smell him, scrunching your nose in a dramatic gesture. “You’re also very stinky.”

“That didn’t stop you from kissing me, did it?” His thumb circled your hip, fingers gently kneading the skin. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

“Never,” you giggled.

“Come on, my stinky dove,” Viktor teased, nuzzling his face against your hair. “Let’s draw a bath in the bathtub. I'm quite cold, so perhaps you could warm me up, yes?”

[dizzy-after-dark]

Cauterized | Steve Rogers

BOOM MIC DROP: SMUT FOR THE END OF THE YEAR! Y'all didn't think I would not post once this year, did you. Well, here it is. I TRIED! Mwah; see you in 2024!

Tags: Angst (not really but yeah), SMUT, fluff

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x F!Reader (Third Person)

Notes: UHHHHH 18+ BUCKOS; this is a continuation of Ignorant, which is the first part and angsty as FUCK but a personal fave of mine if I do say so myself; been really thinking about finishing my requests from over a year ago for Dinner At Dizzy's on my other account, @dizzydancingdreamer (masterlist linked if you're feeling peckish)

Warnings (what to expect, ig): oral (f recieving), fingering, sex (???), uhhhm lack of descriptive writing from a rusty author, sappiness, swearing, bad metaphors, shower sex, alcohol consumption (BARELY), size kink, over-use of the word "Stevie"

Word Count: 4.6k

She pushes the door closed, turning the shower on lazily. Her muscles ache as she twists the knob all the way to the left. Somewhere, sometime she was told about cauterization. You can seal wounds closed with fire— forcibly fuse the skin back together. She has no cuts. Nothing to fuse. And only hot water. However, maybe stepping into the scalding stream might fix the part of her brain that keeps replaying it all, over and over. 

Baby I— 

If anything, it might numb her. She would take that too right now. Hence the bottle on the counter, partially drunk and already open. She takes the first swig, the liquid like fuel to the inferno raging in her stomach, burning the rest of her in the process. The taste is acrid— she’s never been much of a drinker. She just wants to forget it all. Setting it down with a clunk, she strips out of grimey shirt, letting it puddle at her feet. 

Looking at the material, which at one point was a stark white but will now forever be a dingy gray, she laughs. Not really but, yeah, kind of— one of those half amused huffs, anyway. A pity laugh, for the state of her life. That shirt is practically trash. Even if she had the time, energy, or resources to wash it, there’s no way it’ll ever be the same. 

She should just throw it out. 

Is she even talking about the shirt anymore?

She kicks it into the corner, hands falling to the button of her jeans, swollen knuckles screaming as she fails a few times to push the little metal circle through the loop.

“Goddamnit,” she mutters to herself, and to the ghosts, and the spider she saw in the corner when she came in but didn’t have the heart to make the latter as well. 

She’s already made too many ghosts. 

“I, uh, I can help?”

None of those ghosts have ever answered before, though. 

Whirling around, fists balling in front of her face, she readies herself in less than a breaths time to send said ghost straight back to the grave—

“Woah, easy there, baby—”

Only to find Steve, his baby blues wide and a tad panicked but his hand nevertheless peeking through the crack of the door, reaching for her. Mind glazing over with confusion and, well, a fair bit of something russian and label-less, she blinks up at him and the damn door. She closed that— she remembers closing it… right? 

Her eyes flick down and the fire in her belly kindles a little more. 

“Are you kidding me?” She groans, the exhaustion an unwelcome guest in the cavern of her chest.  

His boot, right there in the doorway, holding the measly wooden traitor open. She never heard the damn click. Didn’t even bother to listen for it. Rookie mistake, honestly. She can’t even be mad, really. 

“Please just let me help.” Steve pushes past the door, both arms now extended towards her, but he doesn’t touch her yet. 

He’s waiting. She stays silent. Partly because she has no idea what to say— or what she wants— and partly because he hates it. He absolutely, agonizingly hates when she gives him the silent treatment. She watches his jaw tick, lips pressing together until they go white, and there’s a sick part of her that relishes in the cool satisfaction rushing down her spine. 

You made me like this.

But there’s also a part of her that mourns with him when he clears his throat, crystal eyes flooding over, liquid and glassy, and lowers his arms slightly. Not all the way. He’s hopeful, maybe. America’s sweetheart is always hopeful, that’s one of the things she fell in love with him for. 

That’s still Steve— her Steve. 

“I know—” Steve swallows, “I messed up. I just— you’re hurt, baby. Lemme’ help.”  

She huffs— why is it so fucking complicated? Why can’t they just be normal?

She is hurt. Nothing needs cauterizing but there’s no denying her mottled skin, blue-ish under the crappy motel bathroom lights. Her hands throb, joints screaming at her— when she turns to the mirror, she almost gags at the slight bald patch behind her right ear— fuck, that one had really stung. Absolutely ridiculous the way some people fight these days. 

Her silence is deafening. 

She wants to sob. It’s right there, in the hollow of her throat— she wants to scream. Maybe not at him but in general. She used to live in a penthouse, with all her friends, and the love of her life. Now what? She used to get hurt like this back then too but now it feels purposeless— what are they even doing this for if they have nothing. Have no one. It made sense when she still had him. 

Meeting his gaze in the mirror— disappearing a bit into fogged up glass but there regardless— she still has him. Kind of. But she still doesn’t say anything when she turns back to face him. The frown carved into her face feels vile— deep and disgusting and entirely real— but she can’t make it go away. She can’t stop the sniffle, either. Why can’t she just tell him she misses him?

“Fuck.” 

It’s mumbled under his breath. The Captain America, standing in some rundown wreck of a place off some lonely highway, is swearing. Because of her. Is this hell? It feels like hell. 

But, no, it can’t be, because his hands are so, so gentle as they cup her cheeks, thumbs softly dancing over the bruises, half assessing, half trying. Trying to do what, she doesn’t know. Wipe them away? Commit them to memory? She leans into his touch regardless, conceding ever so slightly. She won’t say it, but he can help. There isn’t a universe in which she would truly deny him. 

The first tear that falls isn’t hers, but his, landing on her forehead right before he buries his face in her hair, wrapping those supersoldier arms around her, trying and, well, failing not to crush her in the process. The tenderness in her broken body is worth it, though, because he smells like home, even if tinged with gunpowder and war. 

“I am so sorry—” he whispers, heartbeat erratic under her ear, chest heaving for breath— “I am so sorry I brought this on you. You’re hurt and it’s my fault.”  

Complicated. She fists his t-shirt as hard as she can— fists in until her hands go numb. It’s not fair how complicated it has to be for them. 

Steve didn’t throw her into the fight, didn’t slam his fist into her eye, or rip her hair out by the handful. Steve didn’t even make her come with him when he left; that was entirely her choice. But he did lose his mind a little bit. Power tripped a little too hard. Focused so much on keeping them all safe that he missed the part where he was just supposed to hug her— and that’s what sucked most— but he is now, right?

That has to count for something? 

He pulls back and her fingers tighten, steeling, tensing. He can’t go, even if she isn’t sure what they are anymore. 

The agony in his eyes when he draws the line from her balled fists holding on for dear fucking life to her own, misty gaze is indescribable. “Baby I don’t know how to fix this. I want to, I—” he clears his throat again and her frown carves even further into her skin, eyebrows drawing together— “I want to so fucking bad.”

He plants his forehead against hers and it aches, the warmth of his skin. “I don’t want to make it worse. I need you to tell me how to help.” 

There’s a stinging in her throat where the words simply don’t manifest. What the fuck is she supposed to say? Nothing, at all, really, because she doesn’t even know how to fix her and she’s not mad so there’s nothing to fix… but isn’t there? Isn’t there something between them that desperately needs mending? Isn’t she mad? 

Is it anger? 

Or is it something much more primal. 

No, there are no words she can tell him. She could show him, though. Maybe that will work.

Letting his shirt go, she watches the breath catch in his chest, stuck and frantic. She knows that feeling well— that icy desperation to keep holding on no matter what. But she’s only grabbing his hands, not leaving him, and he’ll see that soon so she continues to drag him towards the stupid, little button that her useless fingers couldn’t seem to undo. In hindsight, maybe they were just waiting for him. 

Realizing, his forehead is off hers quickly, eyes seeking hers. “What? I don’t—” She flattens his palms against her stomach, engulfing the button, and he breathes the last word out— “understand.” 

Her brows raise, cheeks still on fire but now also burning— yes you do. 

“Are you sure?” He asks but there’s a little click— the same one she hadn’t heard earlier— as his boot clad foot kicks the door properly shut, and she’s pretty sure he knows just how sure she is.

All it takes is her thumbs on his, prodding them towards her arch nemesis— damn you, Levi jeans— and the soldier is moving, not rough in his quick actions, but determined. The button is no match for Steve Rogers on a regular day, but today? Now that he has a goal? A starting place? The button may as well have disintegrated under his fingers. 

Her own hands fly to his shoulders, clinging to him as he tugs the blasted jeans off her legs, trying the best she can not to topple over with the sheer force of him. Material pooling at her feet, his palms smooth so slowly back up her now bare legs, rising goosebumps in their wake. She hasn’t been touched in ages— she feels kind of like an animal waking up from hibernation, disorientated and hungry. 

Grabbing at her hips suddenly, her ass is on the cool countertop before she even has the chance to get dizzy. Spreading her thighs with his own, he works on her bra next— this faded, hole ridden thing that if she wasn’t so engulfed in searing, licking desire, she’d probably be embarrassed about. But it’s gone so soon that she doesn’t have a chance and replaced instead with two, bulky hands that entirely engulf her breasts. 

They squeeze her skillfully— with purpose. Thumbs swiping delicious circles around her nipples, flicking this way and that, exactly how he knows she likes it— exactly the way that should have her as a mewling heap in his hold. But she’s not— she’s contained, even as her very skin thrums alive with anticipation. Is this revenge or is it just fucking complicated?

She can’t decide so instead she bites the moan clawing at her throat into small enough pieces to swallow, all the while tuning into something dark that sparks in his ever watchful gaze. 

She’s caught— he gets it now. 

“Really, baby?” He muses, palming her, squeezing just hard enough to give the touch a slight bite. His tone has her feeling like a deer in his headlights— like a freight train is barrelling directly at her and there’s nowhere to go— and she squeezes her thighs around him, welcoming the collision. “You think I won’t work for it?” 

She only blinks at him. Once… twice… 

Her panties are dropped somewhere into the abyss, long forgotten with the rest of her clothes, and his knees thud heavily against the tiled floor. Replacing his body, his head now hovers right in front of a different button, golden hair tickling her sensitive skin as he pulls her legs over his thick shoulders. His skin is warm but not as much as his balmy breath which hits her clit, teasing her into a mess, hands curling around the edge of the counter. 

Come on, Steve. 

But, no, he doesn’t give in to her just yet. First, he turns to her inner thigh, sucking her skin into his mouth with bruising pressure before letting it go with a pop. He peers up— nothing. Moving to the other one, he whispers quick kisses over her sex but never lingers, only biting into her flesh once more once across her mound, teeth almost teasing a whimper from her this time but no, she’s not budging. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t driving her crazy. Inside, she screams— she craves. C’mon baby just give it to me. Outwardly, her hands drunkenly find his hair, tugging at his soft locks. Now, now, now she chants furiously.

He unseals his lips from her thigh, peering up, less dangerous and back to being her ever hopeful boyfriend— is her her boyf— He kisses her folds, spongy lips lingering a moment, rendering her blank and feverish. Angelic— he’s angelic. From under his long lashes he all but begs her, his dark eyes starving and wanting, but his hands are so soft on her hips, massaging deep into her. It’s this mixture of puppy dog pleading and a knowing of sorts— he knows she’s going to cave eventually.

How does he do that? 

“Words? Please?”

She only pouts and, again, the switch flips. “Fine.”

The word is punctuated with the warm, wet stripe he licks up her center, flicking his tongue languidly over her clit. For as rushed as he’d started this mission, he’s truly never been one to speed through his meals, preferring instead to devour her slowly— expertly— tasting her thoroughly like he has all the time in the world. Meanwhile her body pulses, teetering dangerously already on the knife-sharp edge of too much and too little as he masterfully carves her out. 

Her hands, which had moments ago tried to pull him closer, now use his hair as handles to keep herself from toppling off the counter when he slides her closer to him, burying his face fully into her heat. Heels digging into his back, she watches the spot where his shirt rides up intently, consumed not only by the harsh sucking on her clit but also the tanned, muscled skin peeking out and then disappearing below his own jeans, taunting her. Why hadn’t she taken it off him first? 

She doesn’t have time to think much more about it though because he’s ravenous and she may as well be ice cream, sweet and sticky, melting all over him, dripping down the sides of his face and fingers as they begin prodding against her. They tease, pushing into her but not quite far enough— hard enough.  

His gaze on her is overpowering— it’s deliberate. 

“Y’know,” he speaks against her, the vibrations making her tense, “you can just tell me what you want ‘and I'll do it.”

Her mouth is like sandpaper— her brain, uncooperative. This push and pull is becoming lethal, the next few pokes of his tongue honey slow and spine jolting. Please— she wants to beg. She’s so empty. So, so, achingly empty. Would his fingers even be enough? At this point, it’s as though he would need to crawl into her very chest to fill her up the way she needs to be. How could her words even convey something so needy? 

“Anything, baby. Whatever you want.” 

They can’t, so they don’t, but for the sounds she refuses to make, he doubles in his own, moaning his frustrations right against her. If he can’t make her say anything, he damn sure is going to make her do something. That’s probably why he finally caves, pushing his fingers in to the hilt, and she was stupid to think they couldn’t fill her, the slight burn of them not at all foreign but definitely intense. 

As they bury themselves in her over and over and over again, she bucks against his hand, chasing the start of a little ball of electricity growing in the pit of her stomach, getting higher and higher with every twist of his fingers. Combined with the incessant flick of his tongue— she’s a goner. Stifling the moan, her teeth find home in her lip, biting so hard her mouth gains a slight tang that excites her even more. What’s she even doing? 

Wouldn’t it be more fun if she just let loose? Isn’t that what’s been missing the whole time? The fun? 

When she sees the glint in his piercing stare— impish despite everything they’ve been through— she gets it. It’s hopeless— she is and they are but they’re together and the fun isn’t gone— she’s done. He earned it.

“Stevie—”  she finally cries, animalistic; it doesn’t sound like his name but he must know it is because, even with the intense throbbing consuming her entire body, she can feel his shoulders soften under her thighs— “please don’t stop, I’m so close!”

“That’s it baby,” he coos against her clit, voice raw, compliant as he continues to pump his fingers in time to her squirming, “that’s my girl. I missed that pretty voice of yours.” 

At what point the first orgasm turns into a second, she isn’t sure. It’s all one big blur of her whiny moans, wanton and liquid body, and his hushed prayers against her flushed skin, tongue lapping relentlessly against her. More baby; I know you can give me more. She doesn’t so much hear them as she does become them, absorbing them into her skin. That’s it angel— so good, so good for me.

She can feel him drinking in her mumbled, jagged noises, some words but others mere syllables, coaxed out of her by tongue and fingers all the same. Steve— honey— mmph, fuck, right there— oh my— the words pour out now, dam broken beyond repair, and for some reason, or maybe a lack thereof, it spurs her on even more, a freed woman if ever there was one— 

“Oh my god, Stevie!”

It’s maddening— he’s maddening. 

He’s relentless. 

It isn’t until she yanks his still-eager mouth away from her, stomach iron-tense from way too much overstimulation, does he slowly draw his hand reluctantly back from her shuddering body. His other arm unwinds from where it’s been snaked around her knee, anchoring her to him throughout the duration of his worship. Now pushing him upright, holding him just near enough to where she can hear his labored breaths but not feel them, she shivers, cold as ice without his heat. 

He stares down at her, unmoving, and her heart jumps in her chest. She doesn’t understand— he’s just standing there while she shudders, breathless. His shirt is stretched, no doubt from her pulling at it, and in noticing the damage she remembers how she’s completely naked and he’s completely not. Exposed doesn’t even begin to touch how she feels. 

She wraps her arms around her chest, knees drawing up to tuck under her chin. “Steve?” 

She’d forgotten what it felt like to constantly have him next to her— to have his furnace like warmth melting into her skin almost every minute. Now that she’s had her first real taste of him again, she’s de-acclimated to being alone. She needs him.

“C’mere,” she begs, shaking and a bit confused, why isn’t he touching her still, “please, Stevie, come back.” 

When her fingers finally swipe against his shirt, barely snagging it, he flinches, coming back to her. “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean—” 

She flings herself at him, heart off kilter and erratic in her chest as her lips press against his, swallowing his apologies and hoping beyond anything else that he just catches her, like he always does. He does, kissing her back fervently— reverently. His tongue, tinted with her essence, scoops into her mouth the same way he had been between her thighs. She welcomes the way he takes charge, knowing he holds her against him with every ounce of strength he has.

“—’m sorry,” he pants into her mouth, clearly not satisfied with the success of her attack, “so, so sorry baby.” 

He repeats the words deliriously. Presses them into her hair and against her temple, on her chin and both her cheeks. He especially feeds them to her, word for word, against her lips, soft at first and then rough, frenzied. He’s not talking about right now. He’s still back in that apartment; the fallen angel amongst the rubble, wings too broken to just leave it. 

It’s not complicated. And it’s not revenge, because she could never make him feel worse than he already does, nor would she want to. So, in between kisses and apologies, she answers.

“I know, Stevie.”   

“It’s ok— we’re ok, Stevie.” 

“Steve, stop— I love you!”

He stops. He sets her down, bare feet planting unsteady against the ground. He steps back. What?

“Stevie?” She questions, already moving forward, but his arms, sweeping over his head, towing his shirt up and off, halt her in her tracks. 

Oh.  

 Oh. 

This time, when she says his name it's only a breathy moan, fingers searching for his belt loops and hooking him towards her. In the time it takes for her hands to find the button— this one, thankfully, popping open immediately— there must be a god somewhere who didn’t abandon them in the rubble— he’s back on her, one hand carefully threading through her hair, dragging her mouth back to his, while the other pushes the rest of his clothes to the ground.

“I love you, I love— ah, fuck,” he hisses as her hand wraps around him, thumb brushing over his velvety tip.

For the first time, she smiles against his mouth, calm. “Language, Rogers.”

He pulls back, one neat eyebrow flicked up, but there’s humor in his eyes— no more tension. No more worry. Just fun. He leans down, nuzzling his chin down the side of her face, breath fanning her ear. Her hand stutters as it tugs on him, dragging up and down. He’s so hard— it’s been so damn long. 

“Thought I was Stevie, baby?” It’s an absent minded tease, blush lips parted even after the fact, glued to the way she touches him. 

In turn she watches his face, crowned in a mussed up halo of gold, some of which sticks to his forehead but most falling at every which angle, a product of her thighs sealing themselves around him. She can’t say that she’s never seen him this disheveled but she’ll never get used to it. He’s perfect— she makes him so messy. 

Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one enjoying herself, though, if the heaviness of him between her fingers, rutting into her palm is anything to go by. She squeezes harder, testing something, and he groans something almost inhuman against her neck. Guttural. He’s so close already. It fuels her like nothing else, tickling the part of her that just wants to please. She’s making reparations, too. Speeding up, she works him faster. Come on, honey.  

“Stevie—” she echoes and the next thing she knows, he’s pulling her off him, pushing her towards the steam which billows out from behind the curtain. 

From the moment her feet touch the warm, wet surface of the shower floor, everything is a blur. The water sprays over her harshly, but only for a moment, before he overpowers it with his own, massive body, just as searing against her skin. She registers the slick splat of her back against the wall, a grunt— missed this, baby, and her own feral howl as he slams into her. There’s no waiting, no tiptoeing, only his cock sealing them together furiously once more. 

One of her legs is hiked up impossibly far, hinging near his hip where his hand crushes her to him. The other leg holds her up— barely— heel raised, toes splaying for grip as she reaches higher. He’s just so big— so tall and so thick. So impossible to adequately open herself to without him fully lifting her but she wants to try so she does her best to meet his brutal pace, clinging around his neck desperately. 

If his fingers had filled her entirely, his cock is almost unbearable. She relishes it, though, the way she can almost feel him in her damn throat with each and every drag. It’s mesmerizing, the way there’s no need for adjustment— for remembering. He knows her body like it’s his own and it makes her drool with pleasure.   

The slapping of their skin together proves to be louder than the rush of the water, but not more so than Steve whose mouth is working over time, ladeling praises directly into her ear, soaked, stubbly chin grating deliciously against her temple.

“You look so pretty baby,” he hums, staring mesmerized at their bodies to where he slips in and out of her, “ look at you taking me so well.”  

And she does. 

It’s a lewd notion, the way she can see exactly where he is inside her by the way her belly ripples with his plunges, but one that makes her gasp nonetheless, spasming around him which is also visible to both of them. Loosening one of her hands from its vice grip on his shoulder, he places it on the exact spot, urging her to feel just how big he is. With every sloppy push and pull, she does feel it, and it sends her reeling.

“See that?” He rasps, and she can only nod, mouth agape enough for some of the water falling off his hair to drip into it. 

She swallows it, tongue somehow so, so dry despite everything. Her nerves are on fire, everything so much slower than it should be. 

The agonizing pull of his hand on hers, dragging her own fingers under his to toy with her clit. 

The little circles that take hours to complete but nurture the current running through her veins regardless. 

The fucking torturous in and out of his cock— taunting her, languidly pounding her for what feels like an eternity— she can’t think. She’s in the water but she feels under it, too, foggy and pent up. She just wants to cum—

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna—” 

“—Stevie!” 

She breaks through the sluggish pleasure into electric and all consuming waves, head falling against the wall as his hips stutter against hers, pumping once, then twice, before falling still. Each time, she clenches harder, babbling something gritty and foul and incomprehensible. Something along the lines of holy fucking shit baby but its blurred with searing, pulsing pleasure.

There’s stars behind her eyes and steam in her nose as he falls against her chest, sopping hair tickling her hypersensitive skin. Him pulling feels like what two exposed wires touching must— all sparky and hot. It’s too much. 

“Mmm, careful baby,” she mumbles and he chuckles. 

“Of course.” 

The rest is truly a lull. Steve doesn’t bother gathering their clothes, only her, carrying her limp body to the bed and carefully setting her under the covers, dripping and all, before joining her. If she weren’t so sleepy, she would have scolded him. But she is and her eyes are refusing to stay open, let alone give him that look. It’s all she can do = to seek his warm skin once more, slithering against his body and rooting herself there. 

Cauterized, or something like it. 

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

i don’t know, you figure it out

Plot Holes

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69

Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments.  I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)

What is your writing process like?

Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go!   For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:

This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.  

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD.   I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.

Which fic are you most proud of?

‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂

How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?

“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.”  And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.

When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?

How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)

What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?

@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.  

What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?

This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao

How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?

You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.

What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?

Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.  - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee

Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[mommahughes19-23]

CUP CHAMPS BABBBBBYYYY- M.T

@tori.tot : as you can see all 6 of the fans I was with tonight (4 of which were tkachuks) are very proud of my baby and his team!! (matthew never needed his mouth guard to kiss me) 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖🐀🐀🐀🐀🐀🐀🐀

tagged : @taryntkachuk @chantel_tkachuk @bradytkachuk @Matthew_tkachuk @flapanthers

location : sunrise baby

matthew_tkachuk : thank you baby!!!!! I couldn't have done it with out your constant love and support!!!!💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

bradytkachuk : why do you look like youre going to a sens game instead of a panthers game ? 😡

↪ tori.tot : idk why did you dress for a casual walk around the neighborhood? dont even try me Braden 🖕🏻

taryntkachuk : you are the cutest omg!!!! 💖🫦

flapanthers : STANLEY CUP CHAMPS 2024!!!!

daynamastro : we need to plan a celebration!!!

gustavforsling : is he licking the glass???🙀

↪ tori.tot : uhhhhh good question , I try not to pay attention to those lil matty quirks ...🤓

chantel_tkachuk : My love!! Thank you for joining us to cheer on Matty! Can't wait for you guys to come home for off season to celebrate!🥰🥰🥰🥰

ryanlomberg : MATTHEW BOY LETS GOOOOOOOOO 😋😋😋😋

↪ matthew_tkachuk : lombyyyyyy baby we fuckin did that!

lundell_anton : can you believe it!!! FIRST TIME IN FRANCHISE HISTORY BABYYYY😜😜😜😜😜😜

carterverhaeghe : 2-1 = best championship final score🐀🐀🐀💅💅💅

sbennet_93 : GOOOOOOO CATS 😻😻😻😻😻😻GOOOOOOOOO

barkovsasha : Happy Cappy!! Lil man was so tired but cant wait to celebrate for real with you guys!🫶🏻🫡

evanr17 : 2024 FINAL CUP CHAMPS YALLLLLL

emiliekulikova : You LOOKED STUNNING MOMMM BEAR!!!😘😘😘

samsonreinhart : all 6 of ya were loud as heck! Thanks for coming and cheering us on !

vt9191 : blessed

marissalomberg : FANTASTIC NIGHT WITH FANTASTIC PEOPLE!!! cant wait to do it all over again next season!🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

slorentz16 : oop we did that nbd

nickcousins27 : lets go lets go lets go lets goooooooooooooooooooooo

alligadjovich : omg, giving birth and then hauling ass to see this with 2 newborns was so worth it! thank you for your help btw 🥳😘🥰😍

↪ tori.tot : AHHHHHHHH the twins are adorable my love!! Cant wait to spend more time with you!

mackie.samo : sad I couldn't be there for this boys!

ryiann : SO SO SO SO SO PROUD OF THE BOYS!!! Come over asap to celebrate please!!!!!!!!!!!☺️☺️☺️☺️🥰🥰🥰🥰

nikomikk : really thought if anyone would drop the cup it would be Chucky lmaoooo

tarasenko.yana : 🫸🏻SERVED🫷🏻 US A LOOK BABYYY

montour : our fans are truly the best, then there's u

↪ tori.tot : refrain from ever speaking me or my fiancé again thanks pookie

ninaacousins : OMG OMG OMG OMG did you see the pics of you and Matthew with the cup!!!!! So cute

↪ tori.tot : no?? who do I contact to retrieve these

↪ ninaacousins : Ill have nick send them to matty!

↪ tori.tot : you know if those get sent to Matthew Ill never see them! just send them to me when you can !

eetuluostarinen : gang gang

aaronekblad5 : what a freaking night. cant wait for round 2

tiiiatuomola : ignore my husband, I think hes in shock and can only use small words at the moment

danielaforsling : STUNNNNNNNNNNNING

kevinstenlund : thanks for falling on the ice .. that was funny af

bcoles25 : miss ya and matty! congrats to you both!!!!

jessjewell : dinner was amazing! lets do it again soon!!

emmasulonen : MY STUNNING BEST FRIENDDDDD

*PLEASE READ XOXOXOXOXOX (I know its long but its important)*

A.N :

HIIIIII, FIRST OFF LSFG CONGRATS TO MY BABIES FOR THEIR HARD WORK AND DEDICATION AND WIN!!!!

I couldn't find anything on Barkov's significant other even tho I know hes got a kid.... if anyone has tea on that share please and thanks.

Find here a list of who tf is who :)

(for lack of better words these are whose spouse/gf is whose)

jessjewell = Sam Reinhart (my other set of parents)

danielaforsling = Gustav Forsling

ninacousins = Nick Cousins

tarasenko.yana = Vladamir Tarasenko

alligadjovich = Jonah Gadjovich

ryiann = Brandon Montour (MY PARENTS FR FR)

marissalomberg = Ryan Lomberg

emiliekulikova = Dimitri Kulikov

daynamastro = Aaron Ekblad

tiiatuomola = Eetu Luostarinen

emmasulonen = Niko Mikkola

tagged : @skylershines @noahkahansorangejuice @quinnylouhughesx43

[amimuu]

A splurg of questions if thats okay: What does VTA Lamb and Narinder do on a daily basis? What are their sleeping arrangments? Routines? How does Narinder navigate the touchy awkwardness currently? Does Lamb ever ask anything of Narinder outside of being put to rest when all is done? (Is there ever any hesitancy about that still, on either side?)

OHHHHH ASKING THE IMPORTANT QUESTIONS I SEE

Alr lemme think UHHHHH….this is gonna be a long one brace yourselves

What do they do on a daily basis/their routines?

Well, excluding crusades…

Lamb: basically it goes like, morning sermon, checking on the disciples individually, checking on how they are doing on supplies and stuff like that, and just going around the cult making sure everything is working properly, sometimes sending a follower or two on errands to get more stuff if needed. They normally have a little checklist with them to not forget (which they tend to make the night prior). They also go on walks sometimes, in which Narinder usually tags along (I think I answered an ask about this before but am not sure). They walk in silence 80% of the time, and sometimes they stop by the Lamb’s favorite spot (a tree up a small hill close to the limits of the cult grounds). After this Lamb goes back to their room and does NOT sleep unless they really really need to (which can be up to 6 days without sleep)

Narinder on the other side: wakes up, Morning sermon, checking the protection he set around the cult is still working, cleaning the Lamb’s statue (and leaving offerings, usually flowers), following the Lamb around a bit, checking on the Lambs’ memorial altar (set up by the lamb when they first started crusading. Narinder started taking care of it after they died), and then if it is a silent walk day he just goes and tags along. Sometimes he tries to give gifts to the Lamb, but they are usually rejected or immediately disposed of. Still, doesn’t discourage him. After the walk or if there was no walk at all he goes back to his hut and sleeps. Lemme say that cat sleeps a LOT. Which brings us to the next question

Sleeping arrangements:

It’s basically like this.

Both their sleep schedules are concerning for very different reasons. Lamb doesn’t sleep nearly enough, practically avoiding it like the plague. It was easier when they had the crown cuz sleeping was more of a choice, but now that they are stuck in a semi-mortal body that has semi-mortal needs it’s not as easy as it was. They dread it. Because every time they go and sleep there’s a new nightmare waiting for them. About what? About what not, really. They are haunted. And funnily enough Narinder barely shows up in these dreams, and when he does it’s usually in the form of a memory or a comforting presence. Usually

So yeah avoid sleep at all costs!!

And then there’s Nari who just sleeps an unhealthy amount of time ever since he was freed. The cultists assumed he probably needed big amounts of sleep for some reason and just rolled with it. They were wrong. In fact Narinder doesn’t need to sleep AT ALL, but he enjoys it. He finds his dreams comforting especially cuz a certain someone tends to show up. Before resurrecting the Lamb this was his way to process his grief, but after resurrecting them he is finding it very hard to leave the habit behind and honestly? Why should he. Now,

How does Narinder handle the touchy awkwardness?

Oh boy does he struggle. Lamby here tolerates his presence but they made their point clear. They don’t wanna talk. And Narinder respects that, begrudgingly. He does however, bring them gifts as mentioned before, hoping this can somehow ease things a little between them (This is the way in which he knows to give affection, offerings.), but naturally it is ineffective. He is protective of them too, but mostly from afar.

Does Lamb ever ask anything from Narinder aside from their initial request?

Sometimes, but it’s rare. They do however ask him at one point to please take better care of himself. And other stuff later on in the story. But currently, just the occasional “Please go get this or that” or asking for his company during crusades, mostly cuz that’s both their responsibility.

And so we get to the best one.

Is there any hesitancy about it?

OH BOY IS THERE. A big chunk of the main arc revolves around what they both truly want and have wanted for a long time but their lack of communication kept them from. Narinder straight up hates the idea of having to let Lamb go again. While the Lamb is exhausted and feels betrayed, but a part of them wishes to remain with Narinder for the rest of eternity, so that makes things more complicated

See, they’ll eventually talk this all out but that’s after they actually start crusading and are basically obligated to spend time together. Everything I listed here eventually starts to shift as the story progresses , shifts that include Narinder getting into knitting to avoid sleeping all day, discussions about what ifs, lamb accepting some gifts and eventually asking Nari to please not go where they can’t follow. Fun stuff :]

HOPEFULLY THAT WASNT TOO LONG OF A RAMBLE (who am I kidding it was UHM.) and also hope very much it answered your questions :>!!!

[pawberri]

ok, so i just saw an anti-dni post talking about how having a dni list in bio is purposeless and annoying since it is like a 'holding a sign saying "do not kick me." ' now, i find that perspective objectionable (since obtaining a block list might be what is desired anyways and not all dni reasons have to be extremely polarizing, e.g., i dont think a minors dni will suddenly make a billion minors annoyed, making them interact w/ you immediatly) and i have a slight feeling that you disagree with that point of view too because uhhhhh.

so what i wanted to know was whether you share the same reasons to oppose that perspective, and, if not, then, what are they?

I have been getting really annoyed with the backlash to dnis... I think it's goofy when some person has a dni with a million things, but it feels reactionary to me to say "it makes no sense for you to put your boundaries and expect people to follow them." There's especially this vibe with people who post more extreme content getting mad at dnis. I think that's weird. Partially, people seem to take them as like... a sign of moral superiority or hatred... rather than just a little bit of clarity on boundaries. These people talk about "curating your online space" but have to make these posts ranting about people who do it in a way they dislike. I especially think it's dumb to say, "Just block me, why do I have to not interact with you?" because... I mean, you can't block someone you don't know exists. It's meant to be a preemptive expression of boundaries, so the other party has the chance to block you and / or just not interact.

I know that, in practice, some people have really silly, long dnis that are linked on some weird carrd that takes forever to read. I don't think it's fair to strawman the concept of expressing some of your boundaries online in a digestible format as being stupid because of that, though. Especially when a lot of the people with silly dnis are teenagers just trying to figure their life out. They'll grow out of it. It's fine.

I also think it's weird and victim blame-y to say people will naturally be harassed if they give any kind of indication of their boundaries. I sometimes get mean anons, but for the most part, my experience online is way better because I am upfront about things. I don't get too personal or say things I'm uncomfortable sharing, but I make my boundaries clear. Even when I was a teenager and getting harassed by redditors, I never had stuff I asked to be trigger tagged used against me like people fearmonger about. (I'm sure it can happen, but I think that for most people, it just results in their social circle tagging stuff for them.) Even if that did happen, I think it would cruel to say that it was my fault for daring to express a boundary. If you kick the guy who says "do not kick me", you're still being bully and a contrarian asshole. Even if I didn't express a boundary, people like that would likely harass me. If I don't express a boundary for the sake of avoiding harassment, I get in exchange an audience that will constantly be shocked and fight with me about my beliefs when they show. Then, that creates either an unpredictable level of harassment or the feeling of being harassed because I'm constantly in discourse with my followers. At best I feel miserable and hate interacting with my followers.

I think this partially comes from people who are afraid to express their boundaries for fear of backlash (ie they want to make extreme content but fear saying so will make their followers mad), but honestly I think being straight forward makes your audience more curated. The people I see who post extreme content and are clear about it seem to have an easier time than people who build an audience of a bunch of unsuspecting people and then slowly introduce untagged incest kink or something. Not saying it's a guaranteed anti-harassment tool, but I don't understand the impulse to warn for nothing and have no clear boundaries with your audience, then get mad you curated the audience you curated. I hope it doesn't come across as me victim-blaming in the opposite direction, I don't think anyone deserves harassment regardless of if I disagree with what they post online. I kind of just mean to illustrate a counter example to the idea of the dni-haver making themself a target or inherently Being A Harasser.

[zephyrstargame]

well here's something I can do!

this is a little spin on an idea i've been seeing around that i think is wonderful... I personally, am not in the best financial place to be donating, but i can use my platform as a game developer to help out and do something cool at the same time :3

In exchange for donating esims to gaza, I'm gonna populate the world of Zephyr Star with your characters as NPCs! currently: OPEN!!

Here's the deal-- scurry on over to gazaesims.com to figure out how to buy and donate an esim to the people who need em-- any plan works for me, as long as you're gettin something out there!

then slip into my DMs (or anywhere else you can contact me directly) and show me a screenshot of the email, preferably with timestamps for proof that it's from after this post was posted... or really, any proof that you did do the thing-- also show me:

a reference image for what character you want me put in the game

what this character should say as an NPC (just a few lines at most) (optional; if you'd like i can just write some general dialogue instead)

how you would like to be credited in the in-game credits (ie what name i should put)

below the cut are some submission guidelines and extra notes, please also read that if you're interested :>

here are some general submission guidelines:

nothing too lewd, please!

or racist

or otherwise offensive

fandom ocs MIGHT be fine if they're Legally Distinct enough from the source material, but try not to get me sued here

In general, this game's world has No Humans, but that's not a strict requirement-- just a general suggestion

and keep in mind that characters with super intricate details might have to be simplified in order to work as pixel art

otherwise, anything works! furries, robots, sentient objects, your cat, whatever

and here's some notes, so you know what to expect:

i'll take anywhere between a few hours to a few days to finish, depends on how i'm feeling... either way, i'll tag you in a new post when i'm done!

the character will be done in small pixel art, with maybe some additional effects if i feel it works for the design

i will adjust the sprite size depending on the character-- an average sized character is drawn on a 32x32 canvas but if it's like a giant or really tall or something, i'd make it bigger so that the scale is accurate

everyone also gets a zoomed in headshot for the dialogue portrait

no secret bosses, shopkeepers, or other special story purpose for now, sorry! these are just some guys that stand around and say 1 or 2 lines as you go about your adventure

im putting the characters in various places at random, but if you want your guy to be in a certain type of location in-game let me know

this game is STILL in relatively early development-- but i do promise that each and every submission will be in there by the end! it might take yeaaaars for the full game to finally be out, but i'll be posting screenshots as I put em in the game so you know im not slacking around :>

and alongside the screenshot, i'll also post the sprites on their own if you'd like to save them for yourself

legal stuff uhhhhh im not good at legal stuff-- by participating, you are giving me permission to use your submitted character in the final game-- credit will be given in-game where you would expect to see it (the credits) and i will not claim ownership of any of your guys

(cartoon mafia boss voice) if at any point you want your character scrubbed out of the game, or you want anything changed, let me know in my DMs or anywhere else you can contact me and *click* *sinister laugh* we'll make it happen

no money goes to me ever, im not even gonna be the middlesnake between you and the esims-- i just think its less of a hassle to work this way -w-

did i get everything? i think that's everything... if i forgot something important sorry i'm a scatterbrain failgirl who has never done anything like this before im trying my best okay

may the rift be filled with your cool little guys! but more importantly, let's keep gaza connected! free palestine! 🍉

[agendabymooner]

i think he knows ! lando n. x ofc (alessandro sister!writer!ofc)

"he got the boyish look that i like in a man."

summary: nicola alessandro released a novel under the pen name 'grazie nichols' and everyone made sure that the fans are supporting her. lando norris could do anything but be subtle about the things he knew, and the novel's inspo was one of those things.

content warning: possible use of explicit language, appearance of other fictional characters (hearth sisters, lester ricciardo, etc), dirty jokes (no smut), ofc and lando being menaces, ofc being obsessed with lando, fans trying to come up with theories, ofc's account is private (colabebe)

note: (time check: 12:25 am) i'm sorry i dipped out 😭 a lot happened yesterday: i hung out with the guy (it was awkward lol) went to see the barbie movie with my sister then had a sangria after- i was planning to post something when i got home but apparently i'm a lightweight and was knocked out after. let me know what you think!!! anyway enjoy xx

ps. yes the graphics in here are stuff that i made hehe sorry if they're awful but these are just some last minute shit i made xx

masterlist

tagged grazienichols

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, arthurleclerc

user1 new booktok rec??

user2 the grid is literally hyping this up 😭 is it that good

user3 MORE FORMULA ONE BOOKS!!!

user4 my wallet: empty

user5 me rn: trying to determine which driver relates to the man in the book the most 🧐

user6 bets on leclerc

user7 hmmm i think its more like estie? he's giving muse

user8 it could be yuki ???

user9 i agree user6 it's most likely shal bc that man is book bf material

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, danielricciardo

danielricciardo i don't blame them; this book is a bomb ass book 😉 liked by grazienichols

grazienichols 🤪

user1 grazie stop emptying my wallet challenge 🤐

grazienichols 😶 sorry xx

user2 making money just to get to monaco gp- gurl i don't blame you 😭

grazienichols it's getting more expensive as years go on 🥶

f1 monaco gp you say??? 👀

user3 she's making money already just toss the ticket in us broke people's direction 🙃

user4 yeah what she said ^^

tagged charles_leclerc, loricciardo, estebanocon and 7 other people

liked by colabebe, danielricciardo, arthurleclerc

user1 isn't lester pregnant??? why is she bent like that on the 7th photo? 😭

user2 lester can do things us mere humans can't

alex_albon i am appalled liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg i can't put too much photos sorry lad

alex_albon i'll remember this.

user3 lando fed us with the hearth sisters content at the slides 2, 4 and 6 and i've never felt this loved since my ex &lt;3

user4 gurl 💀 u good

user5 ESTIE BESTIEEEE 😩 i might bust a lil gimme a sec to chill

user6 the sisters in blue 🤤

user7 who's the third photo?

user8 lester's youngest sister, nicola

danielricciardo loricciardo 🤨 what're u doing?

loricciardo protecting baby ric 😳 liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg by flattening his head? 😟

loricciardo you just reduced my standing time and increased my bedrest time lando.jpg thx

lando.jpg what 😭 what's gonna happen if you're in bedrest? is the baby's head going to inflate back to place??

danielricciardo landonorris lad. that's not how it works.

arthurleclerc colabebe that pink is nice asf

colabebe thank you art!!! nice seeing you!!!

user9 uhhhhh?!!! arthur and daniel's in-law?

georgerussell63 why am i not there??? 🧐

lando.jpg my bad- i didn't really want you to take of your shirt in the middle of the ballroom hall. not really your night tonight mate.

user10 where is toto?!!!

lando.jpg god love him but he already has enough photo taken by his own wife. give others some chance to make it to my jpg account

user10 understood king 🤌

sylvieeford no max?? he really pissed you off 😹 liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg yeah, and keep on reminding him that. maybe he'd apologize for once 🙄

landonorris posted a story !!!

tagged landonorris

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, nora_alessandro

danielricciardo my favourite italian-british couple (no offense nora but i don't like georgerussell63 that much) liked by colabebe

nora_alessandro 😒😒

georgerussell63 you're not my favourite aussie either mate 😉

landonorris god gave me an equally obsessed gf and i love him for it liked by colabebe

colabebe just him??? 💔

landonorris me when you: 💗😩😳🤤

colabebe ❤️‍🩹

landonorris look at her

landonorris shes so pretty omg whats her @

oscarpiastri your simp looking ass is getting more obvious

colabebe 🤨 not my fault u don't get bitches 🤡

oscarpiastri do you wanna fight or wha 🤬

colabebe i deadlegged you last time and you ate shit so idk if thats even a question

oscarpiastri landonorris ur rat is at it again

landonorris hey man, that's my simp. leave her alone

mateoales throwing up

landonorris ratio + take L + didn't ask

colabebe cry + whine + sob + complain

mateoales you two are so mean when ur together

[skarlitt]

Uhhhhh I'm really nervous but hey I've started to work with Hermes and Aphrodite too, and I need some help as to what I can offer them or what devotional acts I could do waaaaaaaaah ;_;

AAAA I completely understand the nervousness, I was like that too at first :)

As a rule of thumb, water is always the easiest and most common offering to the gods. If you wanna make more specific ones though, I'll list a few that I like to do:

Hermes:

Offerings

- Any loose change I can find

- Coffee/Energy drinks (haven't tried it myself but many have a personal gnosis that he enjoys caffeine haha)

- Naturally shedded bird feathers

- Imagery of him or his corresponding animals

- Incense

- Skeleton keys (UPG of mine though, keys made sense to me cuz he's a traveller!)

- Crystals that relate to his domain (think citrine, jade, honey quartz, etc...)

- Crafts or art you make in honor of him

Aphrodite:

(Let me just say that while I sometimes honour Aphrodite, I mainly worship Hermes and Dionysus right now, but I'll tell you what I know about her so far. Other blogs may have better resources for this though, take mine with a grain of salt lmao)

Offerings:

- Flowers! Especially roses :)

- Honey

- Sea salt

- Red or Rosé wine (if you're able to buy legally)

- Imagery of her or her corresponding animals

- Art or crafts you make in honour of her

- Crystals for love like rose quartz, rhodonite, etc.

And as for devotional acts/worship, I won't even try to make my own list, because @khaire-traveler has the most brilliant masterlist of subtle/easy things to do for nearly every god I can think of and I REALLY don't think anyone could do it better! (sorry for the random tag lol, I love your posts!)

Also, a book resource that's been hugely helpful to me recently is Strixcraft by Oracle Hekataios. If you can find it (got mine at a metaphysical shop, though it might be on Amazon too), it's a truly incredible resource for this kind of stuff and more.

Hopefully that will give you an idea of how to start? It doesn't have to be complicated. Do what feels right to you, keep researching, don't be afraid to make mistakes (just correct yourself when you do) and you'll be great!

Hope that helps!! All the best on your new journey!!

[distant-velleity]

cat got your tongue?

Summary: Five times Yuhua didn't say what he thought and one time he finally snapped at someone other than Ace (verbally. You don't get the physical beatdown yet). Word count: 3.6k+ A/N: LMFAO okay so. I had this idea like 3 weeks ago but I only got around to writing it recently. It's ... honestly somewhere between serious and slightly crack treated seriously but yk fuck it we ball. No beta. Outsider POV. FloYu crumbs and everything. Let's go. (Also a sneak peek at my new OC :))) ) Taglist (lowk forgot who's on this so uhhhhh. Some people might have been tagged incorrectly): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@boopshoops @skriblee-ksk @nemisisnemi @nyx-of-night @scint1llat3

@the-banana-0verlord @beneathsakurashade

~

I. 

One day where he can make it out of the cafeteria in peace. That’s all Florian wants. And yet—

“Hey, freak. Where’s that meal combo you promised to get for me? And the homework you said you’d do for me?”

Eeeek!!!

Florian almost bursts into tears on the spot when someone in his grade, a burly bear beastman, grabs him by the back of his collar. It hasn’t even been two weeks into the school year and this guy, Darren, has made it his personal mission to target the weakest student he could find. 

“Uh—um—I—” Aaaahhhh!! Get me out of here!!!!! “M—My housewarden, Rosehearts, he… He caught me trying to do your homework for you, a-and…”

“Bullshit,” Darren snaps, “You—”

He’s cut off when someone bumps into him—that someone being none other than the magicless assistant, Yuhua. 

Yuhua. Florian’s saved! He’s really saved! Surely, the person who’d suddenly gotten involved with Heartslabyul’s tyranny and pulled off such heroic moves can do something about this…!!

“Whoa… Sorry. What’s going on here?” asks Yuhua.

Darren glares at him, and Florian wilts from second-hand fear. “Nothing, just a talk between classmates. Keep moving.”

Florian gives Yuhua the most pitiful, pleading, desperate look he can in the hopes that it’ll communicate a cry for help.

It seems to work, because the TA turns to the other freshman and tilts his head. “Yeah… That’s definitely all that’s going on? No intimidation or anything?”

“How’s any of that your business?”

“Hey—” Yuhua throws up his hands in a placating gesture, although his expression looks very bothered. “I’m just asking…”

Well, that doesn’t work. Darren lets out a low growl from the depths of his throat. “Who the hell do you think you are, seriously? You think a bunch of rumors are gonna make me afraid of you? Fuck off already.”

Yuhua frowns. “Then… Then maybe you shouldn’t consider doing this in the middle of the cafeteria if it’s private business?”

“Are you kidding me?” Another pissed off growl, and Darren shoves Yuhua. “I could burn you to ashes like it’s nothing. Don’t forget that you’re magicless.”

It’s not directed at Florian, really, but he can’t help but wither and shrink into himself even more on Yuhua’s behalf. Scary… He wants to say something to defend Yuhua, to say that everything’s fine, but—when he looks over at the TA…

Yuhua opens his mouth automatically as if to say something, then closes it. Florian isn’t nearly good enough at reading that kind of complicated expression yet, but he seems to consider something deeply for a second. “Jeez… You know what?”

“What?”

Florian stays silent, eyes wide. He mentally echoes the question—what? Did Yuhua come up with a genius plan to de-escalate the situation? Or to retaliate? Please, please, say this knight in shining armor will do something—

“I just remembered, Crewel needs Florian for something~” Putting on a smile that seems fake even to Florian, Yuhua switches up his mood like it’s nothing. “Sorry. Maybe we can resolve this another time.”

Florian and Darren blurt out, “Huh?” at the same time. 

“Come on. He won’t wait forever.” Yuhua pats Florian on the shoulder and uses that to quickly weave them into the crowd of students, making their escape. As much of an escape as it can be called—they’re really only saved by being smaller compared to the beastman, small enough to get through the lunch line mob.

Sigh…

To be honest, Florian was expecting something a little cooler after seeing Yuhua’s defeat of Riddle, but as long as he’s safe for now…

—

II.

It’s a beautiful day outside, the birds are chirping, and the flowers are blooming… something like that. Meanwhile, Ace could be doing something fun right now, but he’s stuck doing an assignment for potions class. Collecting ingredients in the botanical garden… does it get more boring than that? Someone, free him already.

At least he’s pretty sure Yu’s around here somewhere. So, once he’s done collecting a jar-ful of some plant with a name too long to memorize, he’s off to find his yellow-eyed partner in crime.

Making sure to avoid the tropical zone (Yu had warned him about a… uh, certain lion beastman taking naps there), Ace navigates the garden with the ease of a slightly-familiar tourist. The TA had said he’d be near the entrance, so—

“Well? What are you just standing there for?”

…Huh?

Ace turns a corner on the path and is immediately greeted by a sight he probably should have expected—a fight, or something, a commotion smack in the middle of the botanical garden.

“You—Is there some cue I’m missing here?” asks Yu, and Ace realizes with some horror that he’s holding a very obviously bruised cheek. Umm, what the fuck? “Is this suddenly your… territory, or something?”

The other guy, the one who’d spoken earlier, crosses his arms. “No… but I told you to scram already, so scram. Just seeing a magicless charity case here makes me sick.”

Magicless charity case. It’s not the first time Ace has heard those words directed at Yu, and it definitely won’t be the last. Still, it makes his blood boil, and by the looks of it Yu is getting pretty pissed, too. 

Ace steps forward, finding his place next to Yu. “Uh, who the hell even are you?” he asks the other guy. “Don’t talk to Yu like that.”

“Ace?” Yu blinks. “What are you—”

“See? A charity case.” The other guy tsks. “You even need a freshman to help you out.”

No, seriously, what is this guy’s deal? What did Yu even do to warrant getting hit and treated like this? Ace swears the TA is a magnet for trouble. 

“He’s not—” Yu closes his mouth, and takes a deep breath. “Okay, then. Have it your way. Ace, did you get everything you needed?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Even though Yu is a solid eleven or so centimeters shorter than him, Ace finds himself being dragged out of the garden by the coat lapels. He stumbles, but Yu keeps pressing forward, storming away until they’re well out of earshot from that prick.

Finally, Yu lets go.

“What was that?” Ace demands, straightening his labcoat to the best of his ability.

“I don’t know,” mutters Yu. “Some asshole. I don’t even know his name.”

“Okay. And why did we just leave like that? He hit you, didn’t he? And what he called you—you’re just gonna let that slide?”

Ace is, to be frank, nothing short of bewildered. Doesn’t Yu have any sort of dignity, a sense of, what, honor? Yes he does, Ace is pretty sure he’s seen it, so why didn’t he just… you know… let himself be mad?

Yu rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. There were still other students there, you know. I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

Cause a—

“Now, can we go to the infirmary? I don’t like talking to the nurse on my own.”

“You—”

Oh, what the hell. 

Ace doesn’t get it at all, he wishes Yu would have stood up for himself, but fine. That stupid bruise won’t heal itself.

—

III.

To call the Mostro Lounge boring would be inaccurate. With a bustling population of both students and employees at most times of the day, there’s always some entertainment to be had for Jade. Especially when he’s on the job, serving drinks and handling disputes.

But, well… That isn’t to say he minds when there’s a bit of additional drama. Especially on the day when Azul has asked Yuhua to cover someone’s shift.

CRASH!

An Ignihyde student shoves the TA, although it looks like a mere accident—a rush to get back to his well-earned seat after using the bathroom. Consequently, the drinks for their table are spilled… all over Yuhua, who’s been knocked to the ground.

“What the hell?!” demands the student. “You clumsy little bitch—those were our drinks!”

Stunned, Yuhua is frozen, staring at the fallen drinks in shame. “I—”

Oh, dear. There’s a bit of a berth forming around them, multiple people craning their heads to look at the source of the shouting, but Jade can get a good look even from this distance. 

“I can’t believe this.” The student continues to go on a tirade, complaining about the service, about whoever let Yuhua work—and finishes off with, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Oh my—what arrogance. 

Jade is rather certain, actually, that this Pomefiore student was one of many who had been turned into anemones by Azul just a few weeks ago. It seems that he’s painfully unaware of how much Yuhua had sacrificed to save his sorry hide, however.

And Jade is certain that the same thought is running through Yuhua’s mind right now, although he can’t quite see his face. The TA digs his long nails into the fabric of his pants, a clear sign of suppressing anger.

Oh, dear~ Perhaps, it’s time for Jade to extend a helping hand—

Instead of fighting back, Yuhua lets out a soft sigh that blows his bangs out of his face. The action reminds Jade something of a popped balloon.

“Sorry,” the pitiful TA replies, finally raising his head. His expression is neutral despite the remaining redness of his cheeks. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll be rightfully compensated for this.” Said a bit despairingly, resigned. 

It seems to appease the student, who grumbles a little more before sitting back down. 

Yuhua’s lips set into a thin line for a moment. He gets himself back onto his feet, only kneeling down again to collect the fallen drink glasses and tray. The other waiters make a respectful, awkward space around him as they walk by.

How… disappointing. Jade would have anticipated more of a fight, based on not only certain rumors but also what he had seen during Azul’s Overblot, but it seems Yuhua hadn’t quite reached the boiling point just now. Instead, he’d settled for people-pleasing.

If it were me, thinks Jade with a pleasant smile on his face, I wouldn’t have let that ungrateful anemone escape with all his teeth and joints intact.

But in any case—

“Do you need any assistance?” he asks, approaching Yuhua.

He gets a surprised look for his troubles, and a rejection. “No, it’s okay…” Yuhua smiles, laughing it off. “The customer’s always in the right, right? I’ll handle it myself.”

Having been brushed off, Jade simply watches as Yuhua scurries back over to the kitchen counter.

Hmm. I wonder if he’s simply playing the long game, then…

—

IV.

Of all the places that Jamil usually expects to hear arguing, the library ranks last. Generally. Not that it’s always free from arguing, but that’s probably on him for having even the slightest faith in NRC students. 

Speaking of which, that’s exactly what he hears when he enters the library one day after classes: arguing. It’s coming from behind a shelf, so Jamil has to guess who it is based on voice alone.

“Please quiet down.” That’s… Crewel’s assistant, Yuhua. “Crewel needs me to borrow this, okay?”

“Uh, hello? Are you not good enough to be his assistant, or something? I need it more. So just hand it over already.”

Jamil stifles a sharp, stressed inhale. That’s a Scarabia student, no doubt—one of his former roommates. Ugh. And just when he thought he could skirt by without having to get involved. What a way to reflect poorly on our whole dorm…

He creeps around the side of the shelf, and what he sees confirms his well-educated guess. A student with a maroon armband towers over Yuhua, who holds a rather thick textbook in hand. The student’s back is to Jamil, but Yuhua’s expression is still visible…

Wait a minute. What the hell? Is… Is Yuhua glaring at the taller guy?

Jamil recalls a conversation he’d had with Ace just the other day: Ace had been in such a hurry to get out of practice that he’d caused multiple… inconveniences for others.

“Yu’s gonna kill me if I’m late for studying!” was his excuse.

“Why are you so scared of Yuhua?” Jamil had asked. Even though Yuhua had been… present, for his Overblot, he still didn’t quite get the control the TA seemed to have over the freshmen. 

“You don’t get it, man,” Ace had said. “I almost pissed myself the first time Yu got seriously mad at me. You don’t think anything’s happening because he’s just narrowing his eyes at you, but it’s like toggling a lightswitch. He gets violent out of nowhere.”

At the time, Jamil had shrugged it off with his normal amount of skepticism. Even though he had proved himself able to be as two-faced and cruel as any other student in this school (Jamil never, in his life, wanted to be on the receiving end of the full Octavinelle trio’s scheming again), Yuhua still seemed too… docile. Too naturally passive to be like that when angry. It wasn’t the first time Ace had exaggerated, either.

But now, he’s seeing all the warning signs Ace had mentioned. How Yuhua is narrowing his eyes like an irked cat. If he allows this to continue, then—Oh, great. A fight. In the library, no less. Another problem he’ll have to clean up because it’s his dorm’s student who likely started this mess and will inevitably get into trouble.

With a long-suffering sigh, Jamil steps forward to intervene—

“...Okay, fine,” Yuhua concedes, although it’s a bit of a reluctant grumble. He holds out the textbook instead of bashing it over the student’s head like Jamil had expected him to. 

A scoff. “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

“...Right.” Yuhua turns as the student walks away, so his expression is unreadable. 

Huh.

Jamil stares blankly for a few moments. That… did not go as he expected, at all. 

So much for ‘explosive anger,’ really. Yuhua had just given up.

Well, whatever. Jamil will just chalk it up to Ace’s overdramatic nature and think nothing of it. As long as it was resolved peacefully without needing him to risk grey hairs…

—

V.

When Vil calls for a rare water break, Rook takes the opportunity to observe the NRC Tribe’s stiffest fledglings. 

Today, again, they’ve taken on pirouettes in a corner where they can still see the mirror. Certainly, it makes for quite a sight: the normally-withdrawn TA trying to instruct two freshmen who have likely never seen a true ballet performance in their lives.

Rook had known Yuhua had a history in dance and music from the start—there was a clear lift to his chin and in his posture when he didn’t feel insecure, holding himself high and sitting on the edge of every seat. He walked with a slight turnout, and was light on his feet; not to mention the controlled expressiveness of his hands. However, the TA didn’t seem to enjoy flaunting these facts, making moments like these all the more enjoyable. 

“Epel.” Yuhua frowns, a little soft and yet a little frustrated. “Are you trying?”

The Pomefiore freshman bites the inside of his lower lip. “Uh, well…”

A sigh. “That’s about what I thought. Vil and I aren’t asking much: just a clean single so you can master the basics.” Yuhua crosses his arms. “Is something on your mind?”

“I just…” Epel grimaces. “I still don’t get it. What’s so manly about any of this turning?”

Ah, there it is again.

Rook does not intervene, continuing to observe, even though he can see Yuhua’s eyes briefly twitch into narrowing and his lips press into a strained smile. Any dancer would start to lose it after yet another generalization of their field, especially an ignorantly derogatory one. After multiple generalizations, in fact.

Like any trained performer, however, he smooths it down. That self-control is beautiful in its own right, no matter how strained.

“Manly, huh…?”

Epel yelps as Yuhua, deceptively calm, grabs his arm to adjust it.

“Your elbows are too stiff. Don’t interrupt the line; make them look round and effortless.” A tap to Epel’s back. “Don’t lean forward when you plié, you’re not about to break into a sprint; if your pelvis isn’t under you, then you’ll be off-balance when you turn.” And then, a nudge to the underside of Epel’s chin. “Don’t look at the ground. Look at yourself in the mirror. Keep your chin level so you can spot properly.”

The foundational advice is given almost clinically, automatically. Rook watches with keen interest as Yuhua withholds the same kind of scathing strictness Vil would have easily dished out, even though this must be the second or third time he’s had to say these things to Epel. 

“Deuce,” Yuhua asks levelly, “did you hear everything I just said?” To the trained ear, it sounds like a test, an I am on my last straw so there is only one correct answer here.

Thankfully, one of his students is more eager to learn than the other. “Yes!” is the earnest reply from the two of spades, who is already adjusting his posture after listening with the utmost dedication.

“Thank you.” Yuhua turns back to Epel. “We don’t have a lot of time. Just focus on improving for the SDC, okay?”

Epel bristles at being treated like a child, but nods. 

A smile spreads across Rook’s face. Ahh, the liveliness of a dancer and his mentees at work…

“Rook.” Vil’s voice snaps him out of his momentary reverie. “Let’s continue practicing.”

Right. Duty calls.

 “Of course~”

—

VI.

By now, Floyd had noticed, most people were learning to steer clear of starting shit with Yu. On top of him making more friends, on top of the (true) rumors that he’d Overblotted, most people had probably just accepted his presence.

(It also probably helped that Floyd regularly finds great joy in standing behind Yu and scaring off anyone who tried to be a problem.)

But, even then… 

Some people don’t take the hint.

Floyd doesn’t know how or why it started, only that when he walks into the courtyard of the main school building, there’s someone yelling at Yu like it’s his Seven-given right. It’s so loud, like a dog’s yapping. So annoying.

Bark, bark, bark. Floyd doesn’t listen to the full thing because it’s not worth his time, but it feels like it goes on for forever. To the point where people are gathering like it’s some kind of show, heads turning.

What a serious mood killer. Maybe Floyd should get involved, start a fight. Let everyone have a piece of this idiot. It doesn’t look like Yu will: he’s just standing there, silent, suffering quietly like he usually would.

“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” taunts the nasally little offender. Of course, he’s the worst breed of coward—only able to say these things once Yu is on his lonesome. “No one’s here to defend you now, huh? Aren’t you gonna say something?”

Silence.

“Well?”

“Haaah…” Yu closes his eyes. “I’m seriously sick of your shit.”

“Huh—”

That’s the only thing the yapper can get out before Yu grabs him by the face. His fingers dig into the person’s cheeks, the palm of his hand conveniently muffling any complaints. If looks could kill, he’d be a murderer. 

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I said I’m sick and tired of your bullshit!” Yu shouts. He angrily tightens his grip. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know who the hell you think you are—I don’t know who half the people at this school think they are—but someone needs to humble you, desperately. Have you heard yourself?” 

His voice reaches a high, mocking pitch: “Ohhh, no! There’s a magicless person at my school, but I think I deserve to be hot shit because I can make a few pathetic sparks with my magic! I’m gonna pick on him to assert my nonexistent dominance because I think he looks like a weak doormat!

“Yeah, well, womp fuckin’ womp. Being chosen by the Dark Mirror doesn’t mean anything. You’re just a copy-and-paste of every other small fry I’ve met at this school. Ego in the clouds, even though your performance is so bad that you reek of failed contracts and the threat of being held back. Am I right?” Yu scoffs without waiting for an answer. “Grow the fuck up already. Aren’t you embarrassed? Don’t you have any respect for anyone?” 

He lets go with a shove, pushing the previously-confident person to the ground. Yu’s heel finds a nice spot to rest on the student’s chest and send a message.

“Do us all a favor and actually have the bite to back up your bark next time. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

And even after yelling like that, Yu walks away like it’s nothing.

Oh, Sea Witch. Floyd feels ready and raring to kick ass again. 

That was great.

—

(bonus:

Riddle has no idea how he ended up in this situation, but here he is. Having ended up next to Floyd, watching Yuhua curse a student out.

For good reason, of course. But Riddle didn’t even know that the TA had that in him.

“...Well.” Riddle turns to leave—that’s enough of enjoying the ‘show’ for today. He makes to weave his way out of the crowd that’s gathered, but something makes him pause. He looks up.

There’s a dumb, dopey, lovestruck look on Floyd’s face. That’s the only way Riddle can think to describe his smile, mismatched eyes following after the exiting Yuhua.

…what can he even say in this situation? Riddle stifles an embarrassed grimace and walks away.)

[wazzappp]

You write fanfics, right? Would you mind giving a newbie a few tips for writing their very first fanfiction ??? 🥺

FIRST OF ALL WOAH. IM HONORED YOU WOULD ASK ME FOR ADVICE AND SECOND OF ALL AKAKKFJGKHKHSKSGG I uhhhhh. Kind of????? Write?? I make plans and then I draw comics I'm actually trying to WRITE write something right now (key word being 'trying') but INEXPERIENCE ASIDE I guess I can try to tell you about some stuff I like to think about when planning a comic?

I like to start by knowing both where everyone is starting out and where everyone is going to end up. It's also helpful to know what everyone WANTS. I make sure to separate those two because they aren't necessarily the same thing. It's good to know both before you get to the details. If you don't know where you're going, you cant have fun getting there!

When I'm planning something out I like to start with the big parts as bullet points and then fill in the gaps. That way, if you realize one point doesn't flow into the other the right way, you can rearrange things before you're 5 hours deep and realize 3 hours worth of it doesn't work.

Try to think up multiple different ways a scene/situation could go! I replay something in my head a dozen times in a dozen different ways until I land on one I like. If you have something solid its totally cool to stick with it, but it's also fun to explore possibilities in your head before committing. That way you can pick out what the most impactful version is and go with that.

TALK!!! TO YOURSELF!!! FOR DIALOGUE!!! Find somewhere private where you wont be judged or interrupted and just go for it (my personal favorite is in the car on my drive to work but don't do that if you think it will get you into an accident lol). Try and get into each characters headspace and think about how it feels to say the things you're saying. Does it make you feel sick? Choked up? Tense? Notice it and think about how it will change their body language and how other people perceive them.

Know what your characters flaws are! Perfect people are BORING. Not to mention unrealistic. Also its really important for how people interact with each other! If someone is distrustful, judgemental, naive, defensive, blunt LITERALLY ANY CHARACTER FLAW it will play a role in how they deal with both people and problems.

Working on biographies + character designs (if you draw) for characters to make sure you understand them as well as possible is really helpful. I do it for almost all of my AU's that I make. But also I'm incredibly detail oriented so yk. Take that bit of advice with a grain of salt. I like picking my favorite little guys apart with a scalpel but if you find that demotivating don't worry about it too much.

If you're following along with a game or a movie, it's good to know ahead of time how closely you are sticking to the established story and universe. Keep track of any new rules you make. Working within a set of constraints helps to get both you and the character to think more creatively, and keeping those rules consistent makes the world feel more real. In a way, setting limits makes your world bigger!

Its also worth mentioning that I like to pay attention to what I enjoy reading when I'm figuring out a story. What pacing do you like? What level of description? Do you like things phrased more straightforwards or more poetic? I'm not suggesting you copy people of course. Just know what you like and try to apply it to yourself!

Damn that was way more than I thought I had to say lol. I'm going to also tag @moosemonstrous @rokhal @kermit-coded @cannibal-wings sin case they might have some tips to add because they are all absolutely exemplary in their craft (bring out the FANCY words today just for you) and I HIGHLY suggest looking at their works.

<3 Thanks for your ask!! I cant wait to see what you make!

[thefandomlesbian]

AO3 Wrapped 2024

tagged by @gaylilsherlock

1.) Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Developing an interest in Gunsmoke. That was an accident, I swear.

2.) How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year?

I have every intention of trying to make 2025 year the year of completion. I am finishing the last two of my short Gunsmoke fics (The Horse Thief and Venom in Violet), and after that, I'm going to finish typing my multiple notebooks of content on IN A DREAM YOU FOUND A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY (believe it or not, this fic is almost completely finished... IN my notebooks, not on my computer). Then, I'm going to finish my Gunsmoke multichapter, dead hands. And after that, my priorities include trying to tackle the behemoth of repairing Not Bigger But Brighter and maybe completing Box Full of Darkness at long last.

So, I suppose the straight answer is I'm not planning on starting many, if any, new works next year; I'm hoping to bring several of my long unfinished fics to their finale.

3.) Favorite character to write this year?

JAMES EVAN WILSON. Without challenge. I invented his entire family and gave them a complex lore for my Hilson HS AU fic (unpublished and I intend to keep it that way). I love him so much, and I took a lot of liberties in giving him lore. To me, he's almost an OC in a way. I definitely love him more than any of the others! He's my blorbo.

4.) The character that gave you the most trouble this year?

I'm gonna go with Lisa Cuddy. I feel like my portrayal of her has strengthened with time, but she's a struggle for me, which is probably why I haven't written any Stacy/Cuddy fic, even though I adore the ship an unreasonable amount and rarely see work for them.

5.) What's one pairing you want to explore next year?

Stacy/Cuddy!

6.) Did you receive any gifts this year?

I believe I got tagged in a couple posts on Tumblr! But no, I didn't receive any gift fics on AO3.

7.) Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Other than private roleplays, no. But my beta does a bombass job!

8.) What do you listen to while writing?

While I'm actively writing (thinking of words to write down), I listen to white noise. While I'm transcribing @libbymania I sometimes will listen to music instead of white noise, or rarely I'll listen to an old radio episode. For brainstorming and sometimes transcribing, I try to make playlists for each one of my fics! And when I'm searching for inspiration, I'll often scroll down have-you-heard-this-band and listen to 2-3 songs of each of the last 10 artists and try to glean ideas from the fresh music. This exposes me to a lot of music I otherwise never would have heard, and I've found a lot of my new favorite bands this way!

9.) Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Uhhhhh there are a lot and I'm sure there are more in the notebooks I haven't transcribed! But this is a section from an upcoming chapter of JOY!

As [Wilson] studied House’s face, azure eyes pooling with tears (stinging from the wind, perhaps, or perhaps genuinely distressed, genuinely fearful, though the notion of the latter was uncomfortable, so he pushed it away), he lost all of his words. He could say nothing kind enough, acerbic enough, observant enough, to greet the sight of House’s mouth hanging agape, the overworn wool hat dangling from between his fingers, his shoulders loose and helpless in posture, the slouch to the right where his knee could no longer fully straighten—this was the powerless man who had flanked Wilson’s bedside for months, the one he had seen in his lucid dreams when he was immobilized by drugs and could only view the world when someone held his eyes open, always hunched in pain, sometimes staring, sometimes too weak to look. House was staring now, fighting for his composure. Wilson waited for it to reassemble.

He closed his mouth, swallowing tightly, shifting his jaw. He tucked the hat into the pocket of his jacket, extending an open-palmed hand to Wilson, fingers curling to beckon him back. He didn’t speak. But he was pleading for Wilson to return.

He had no choice but to fall back, obediently placing his hand in House’s, where he was tugged persistently back to his side. “I wasn’t anywhere near the edge.”

The quick sentence was easy to make out on his lips. “I know.” House was squeezing his hand tight enough to hurt.

“Then why were you scared?”

“I wasn’t scared.” The grip didn’t loosen. Wilson gingerly broke away from it.

“You looked scared.”

Tags!!

@oddlittlestories @someguywriting @thatwholethingwiththeduck @greghousepogging @greghousebignaturals

[di-daynamic]

Okay so I saw you on a post talking about giving fanfic recs, and I was like “I am always looking for more of my favorite trope, maybe I should poke them”

I am always on the lookout for some good platonic Yandere stuff. That dynamic where some person shows up and does morally dubious things in the name of the person they love.

I have read so much of this, and am always looking for more. I’ve scoured the “vault time” tag in the MHA fandom, read from the larger writing blogs with this genre on tumblr, and so on.

So uhhhhh do you have any recommendations? From either fanfic or other media. I’m not picky, I just want more of this trope.

Hmm. I've not come across too much of this, especially platonically.

But I think basically Merlin and Supernatural in their entirety comprise of this very thing. Merlin's morality and ethical standards seem to lower with every progressive season, and by the end of S5, he is literally unrecognizable from the cheerful kid in S1. Part of it is the trauma, but how much he does for Arthur, how desperate he is to protect him, how he has given everything for him is similar to what you want, and is unsettling at some point in the show. I guess it's the reason Merthur is such a popular ship - people don't believe they'd do this stuff for 'just a friend' (there's also the fact that they're described as 'two sides of the same coin' aka soulmates and it's stated that Arthur is the reason Merlin is born and the purpose of his life which people can't digest as platonic either.)

Supernatural is all about Sam and Dean Winchester's epic bond and how they almost end the world multiple times for each other. 'Psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent' is how their relationship is described, and it's pretty accurate. I love it, but I also know this show is extremely infamous for other things, so.

As for fanfics, well. Going into these fandoms and searching tags like 'Dark Merlin' gets fics like Dragonfire Wrapped in a Skin of Shadows where Merlin has gone off the deep end and is murdering people in Arthur's name. Torn in which Merlin tortures someone to find a missing Arthur.

by any means necessary is a Hunger Games fic in which Katniss is genuinely as ruthless as she thinks herself as and kills most everyone in the arena to go back home to Prim.

The Smoke series, two Harry Potter fics where Sirius Black isn't entirely human, but he loves James and Harry and will do anything for them - including murder.

I also have some Dark Irondad in my bookmarks! no place like home in which a Tony Stark who lost Peter Parker in another dimension kidnaps the one from the canon dimension and keeps his captive. sweet but psycho where Tony comes back wrong from the dead and adopts Peter against his will after killing his aunt May.

Will You Fight At My Side? is a Blood of Olympus oneshot where Percy jumps in on Jason and Zeus' fight and kills Zeus and threatens all the other gods out of loyalty to Jason.

In the Choices series, Harry Potter is resorted into Slytherin in his second year. Particularly in later installments, he gathers followers who are all immensely loyal to him and he to them. It isn't complete, but the author updates fairly frequently.

unforgiven (I'm a villain) is an MCU oneshot where James Rhodes dies during Civil War and Tony is desperate to get him back - but not before getting revenge brutally.

Can't think of anything else. I hope you like these recs!