#keep work and Healthy

[keferon]

This is what madness looks like

[housecow]

seeing you outright mention you have death feedism tendencies is like a shotgun to the chest (positive)

i have a medical phobia that’s somehow twisted itself into death feedism ngl. also, evil feeders. 😳

someone hellbent on keeping me as fat as possible for as long as they can—knowing what cocktail of drugs keeps my heart pumping, dumbing me down and keeping me pliant with edibles hidden in my food, waking me up every few hours for feedings and funnel sessions instead of letting me sleep so the weight piles on faster than it should..

somewhere deep down i know it’s not good for me. maybe my feeder tells me about all the health problems i have while the feeding tube is in my mouth and i can barely think, but i can’t focus on what they’re saying without getting overwhelmed. if i don’t remember later, it doesn’t really matter, right?

maybe occasionally i’d “come to my senses,” during a lull in the feedings. when my feeder is busy and away for a while, after i’ve made my way through a small mountain of snacks and the mini fridge (full of shakes laced with THC to keep me docile) is just out of reach. maybe i’d try to get up, only to collapse back down because my knee problems finally caught up to me and fuck, it hurts to even try to walk. maybe then i’d finally take a look at where i am, how i’ve given up my life for someone’s (and my own, let’s be real) sick pleasure.

i’d have to deal with that realization for a while. maybe i’d start to cry, unable to handle the reality. eventually, though, my feeder would come back. they’d find me in this state and console me, getting the funnel ready because they can hear my stomach rumbling and it’s been too long since i’ve eaten. they’ll coo into my ear about how it’s all okay, how i asked for this and it’s what we both want.

they’d give my belly a shake, grasping the lowest roll in their hands and enjoying the way it makes my entire body wobble. they’d press a kiss onto the vast expanse of fat above my belly button, an area they were so excited to see expand under their care. they’d struggle a bit to lift one of my tits, eager to see how my breath hitches at the thought of their mouth on me. these are all distractions. they’ve mastered this game of manipulation and there’s no way i’d be able to find my way out of their control. their touch, the food they offer me, even those moments when i’m not high or in a haze of fullness and pleasure, were meant to further ensnare me and ensure i’m theirs for as long as i live.

my health, my life, is in my feeder’s hands. they know what’s best. as long as i keep eating, keep taking the pills they hand me, keep ignoring how hard it is to move and breathe, it will all be fine. or, that’s what i’d tell myself.

[captainpriceslilwife]

little thing with John Price that goes from angst to smut to angst again and then fluff and back to smut....pretty much checked all the boxes here i think. okay yay <3 also ill be honest...idk if i like how this turned out, but.....here it is *serves up half-eaten charcuterie board made from lunchables*

Basically Price is using your daddy kink as a trojan horse to rewrite your neural pathways <3 but like...with love Shoutout @coco-killed-the-angels for implanting these worms (insecure girl x price) into my brain <333 CW: deep insecurities (bc i'm the one writing it, so...it's a given), daddy kink, crying, praise kink (?) - does it count if he's just praising you in a sexual setting and its not necessarily a kink idk, if you're allergic to true, deep love and you just want smut this is not the work for you, not DDLG but like...the cousin of it. Or sibling. DDLG adjacent.

Your day had started off rough.

Well, the whole week, really. With deadlines and headaches looming over your head, it's no wonder that you ended up in such a state this morning.

You were just barely fighting the childish urge to just whack the brush over your head, so you tried to move on to putting your makeup. Which only ended in you crying in frustration when it started to cake up, and then you began crying even harder when your tears started making the rest of it slide off of your face.

"So fucking stupid." You had whispered under your breath as your shaky hands wiped at your face in a sorry attempt to fix everything - only to make it worse.

That's how John found you in the bathroom, furiously scrubbing at your face with a towel to wipe everything off as you sobbed quietly to yourself.

"Woah, woah, woah...sweetheart." His hands are quick to wrap around yours to halt your movements, and you try to bow your head to avoid his gaze, but he tilts his head right alongside you. "What's all this, huh? What's wrong, sweet girl?"

And he tries his hardest to comfort you, he really does, but you're just so lost in your anguish that you blow up in his face the moment he suggests you be gentle with yourself.

"No! I have to wear makeup today because my face is breaking out and I look ugly, b-but I keep ruining it because I'm crying! God, I can't do anything without ruining it!"

Maybe you were just hormonal or about to get your period, but it didn't matter. Your insecurities sound the same no matter what chemical is bouncing around in your brain to cause it.

Which is how you ended up here - on your hands and knees on the bed, facing the mirror on the dresser with John's cock nestled deep inside of you.

He had already been working you up for hours, teasing and licking and fingering you until you could barely hold yourself up - which explains why he's got one hand curled at the base of your skull to hold your head up by your hair to force you to watch as he fucks you.

But he's not even fucking you. He's just...sitting inside of you. Not moving. Making you whine and whimper as he stares at you through the smudged reflection of the mirror. You plead with him quietly, fresh tears blooming to wash away the dried tracks from your earlier malaise, but he just shakes his head and pulls your hair back a bit more.

"I already told you what to do, sweetheart. Go on." But you just blink at him dumbly with those teary eyes, too far gone to remember how you got here, let alone what he just said five seconds ago. But that's alright - if war taught him anything, it was how to be patient. Especially with a soft thing like you.

"Daddy's not moving until you say something you like about yourself."

Oh, right. That.

You had kind of been hoping he would just fuck your brains out so you could ignore your little meltdown earlier and forget it ever happened - but clearly John had different plans.

"I don't want to."

Brat.

Even when you were trembling beneath him and begging him to fuck you, you still had the nerve to talk back to him. But John knows you well enough to know that you aren't acting out just for the fun of it. So, he isn't going to punish you now. You're upset, and insecure, and you just want him to take it all away so you don't have to think about it.

Which is exactly what he's doing - even if you can't see it from where you are mentally. He's just playing the long game.

"One thing, baby." He murmurs in your ear, locking eyes with you in the mirror as he curls himself over your back to press his hairy chest into you, making you mewl softly. "Just say one little thing you like about yourself, and Daddy will fuck you, just like you want. I promise."

And you poor thing - you're just so desperate. You're cunt is leaking around his cock and no matter how much you try to rock your hips back to get some kind of friction, he's holding you too tight to make any real progress.

So you give up. Or give in. Either way, you decide to just let go and think of something - if only just to get him to pound you into the mattress the way you wanted.

But when you looked at yourself in the mirror - all puffy eyes, splotchy cheeks, and tangled hair - all you could see is what you didn't like.

Every bump, every scar, every part that's too much, and every part that's not enough. Suddenly every mean voice in your head has a stage - telling you about all the times you failed and how you aren't worthy of anything good in this world. Ugly, stupid, worthless, annoying-

There's nothing you can think of, even to just throw out meaninglessly to get him to hop off your case. Nothing.

And all you can do is choke out a pathetic sob - lower lip trembling violently as you squeeze your eyes shut to block out the mean voices circling around in your head. "Daddy, I can't...I c-can't think of anything."

He had expected a bit of resistance from you, but the way your face crumpled so sadly at the prospect of complimenting yourself made his heart ache in his chest. Clearly your insecurities were running deeper than surface-level, and he'd have his fair share of work cut out for him if he wanted to make you feel better.

"Shh, hey, hey, hey. It's okay." He coos softly, removing his hand from your hair to curl it around you to rest it against your sternum. He sits back against the bed and takes you right along with him, planting you on his lap with your back pressed against his chest - with his cock still inside of you. You're grateful for it, since you know you'd just spiral even more if he took it out and left you feeling empty and cold while you were already on the verge of a complete breakdown. "Daddy can help. I'll help you out, sweetheart."

"We can think of things together, my love. It's okay." He murmurs quietly as he wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth slightly as he gently hushes your tears. His thumb comes up to wipe away the fresh tears that slip down your cheeks, and he can feel his heart cracking in two at every little heartbroken whimper and sob that manages to escape your lips.

"What about your pretty eyes, hm? The ones that help you read all of those books, even when it's a little dark? The same eyes Daddy loves to wake up to every morning?"

You blink owlishly through your tears, your hiccups coming to a halt for just a second as you begin to process his words. He's not talking about the color of your eyes or what shape they are, but what they can do. You've been so caught up on how every part of you looked...not what they were actually meant for.

Your eyes aren't supposed to be the prettiest color or the 'perfect' shape. They're job is to help you see. And you can read, and admire the sunset, and cry, and watch TV - and none of it has to do with how your eyes look. They're the same eyes that lock onto John's from across the room and tell him 'it's too much. can we go home?' without ever having to say a word. And he always knows how you're feeling, just from taking one look at your eyes.

"And what about your hair? Don't you like braiding it and putting it up in all those pretty hairstyles? Don't you like how Daddy can play with it when you get all sleepy?" You turn your head around to look at him through your tears, and you take in a shaky breath as you nod your head silently in agreement. "Yeah...I know I like it, sweet girl."

You let out a restrained whimper as his words settle over you, your heart cracking in a way that it never has before - like its rearranging itself to fit the beautiful image of his perception of you. You can feel his hand gently squeeze your arm to silently urge you to continue on your own, and it takes you a minute to think of something before you let out a trembling whisper.

"M-My nose..." You sound uncertain, blinking up at him for validation only to be met with a loving smile and an encouraging nod. "I like my nose."

Your nose was never meant to look like everyone else's. It's just there to help you breathe. To bring oxygen to your blood to keep you alive and healthy. And it helps you smell everything - the bread at the farmers market, John's cologne bottle whenever you missed him too much in his missions, even the gross candles at the store that you force John to smell too just so you can both suffer together. It even crinkles up whenever John presses a kiss to it when you aren't expecting it, which always makes him laugh and makes him press just one more to it to get you to giggle and swat him away.

"Yes...good girl." He praises softly as he presses a line of kisses along your shoulder, reverent in both his touch and stare as he tilts your chin back towards the mirror. "Keep looking at yourself, darling."

"And Daddy loves your beautiful smile...you know, that's the first thing I miss when I go away. I keep a little picture of you in my vest just so I can see it even when I'm on my missions. I love seeing my gorgeous girl look so happy." His words coax another watery sob from you, which he quickly soothes by running his hands gently up and down your arms. Eventually he trails them down and circles his hands around yours, using his thumbs to massage gentle circles into your palms as you cast your gaze down to watch. "And your hands...didn't you bake me those cookies last week with these hands?"

"Yes, Daddy." You nod once again, and he brings both of your hands up to wipe at the tears that are dripping off of your cheeks and down to your torso.

Your body let you express your love for him in all the ways you wanted - hugging, kissing, cuddling, crying, laughing, talking, listening, touching - you could go on forever now that you're really thinking about it.

Your body was a vessel for love - a home that could fit all the adoration and affection that John could possibly give you and you could give him - and instead you were using it to house all of the shame everyone else had burdened you with over the years. But John had all the patience in the world, and if he had to pick that shame out piece-by-piece in order to burrow his love inside of you, then that's what he'd do. Happily.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty...such a pretty little girl you are." He punctuates every one of his words with a kiss to your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your hair...all until he reaches your ear when he finally whispers, "I'm so lucky to have you, baby."

And you poor thing - now your blubbering in his lap as your brain tries to comprehend the sheer amount of love he's pouring into you, and he just continues to hold you patiently as you work through it. It's only when you finally calm down a bit that he speaks up.

"I think you're so beautiful, my love. Inside and out. But if you look in the mirror and you don't like what you're seeing, for whatever silly reason, I want you to remember that your worth comes from a lot more than how you look. Do you understand, baby?" He waits until you nod your head before he plants a kiss right to the crown of your hair. You can feel his hand settle on your thigh, thumbing the sensitive inner skin as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.

"Do you want to keep going?" And then you see it - settled underneath his love and admiration for you is a spark of concern. He doesn't want to push you too hard, especially in a delicate setting like this. His cock is still hard and nestled deep inside of you, but you know if you said the word right now he'd end this all in a heartbeat to make sure you were comfortable and taken care of.

But you don't want him to stop. It feels different this time around - like it's not just sex. It's something more ritualistic than that. So you nod your head once more, making sure to keep your eyes on him in the mirror so he can see how earnest you are.

And slowly, carefully, he readjusts you back into the position you were in before - on your hands and knees facing the mirror. And you can see him watching you closely for any sign of discomfort or regret, but all he's met with is trust in those teary eyes of yours.

"Keep telling me what you like, sweetheart."

And so you do. Clumsy compliments stumbling out of your mouth as he finally starts to rock his hips, granting you the relief you've been craving from him for what feels like forever now. And the more you praise yourself, the more intense his thrusts get - but he never turns rough. Not even for a second. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he whispers his own devotions into your ears, pushing himself as deep as he can as if he's trying to plant the words directly inside of you.

You're so overwhelmed by the love and the pleasure he's giving you that you barely even realize how fast your orgasm is sneaking up on you, but he notices. He can feel you clenching around him as your thighs begin to shake, and he doesn't waste a second in gently guiding your gaze to look at yourself in the mirror once more.

"Are you a pretty girl, baby?" He grunts softly, barely staving off his own release long enough to drive his message home. You begin to nod your head frantically, too caught up in your impending climax to form any coherent sentences as you begin to flutter around him - but he's not having any of it.

"Yeah? Go on, then. Daddy wants to hear you say it."

"I-I'm a..." Your stuttered words are cut off by a deep moan, and your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you clamp down around him. "I'm a p-pretty girl!"

And then you're sent into the most mind-shattering orgasm you've ever had in your life. You can feel yourself gush around him and you hear his restrained curses as you collapse into the bed, but even your own voice sounds muffled as you call out his name with a quivering cry. He fucks you right through it, leaving you trembling and crying from the intensity as he finally spills inside of you with a few tears of his own.

He just barely catches himself before he collapses on top of you, and it takes him a minute to catch his breath before he readjusts to, very carefully, pull himself out of your squelching cunt. He coos gently as you whine at the loss of contact, and he scoops you up like you're a porcelain doll that'll shatter if he's not careful.

You're still so fuzzy from the intensity of it all, but he places you in his lap to let you bury your face in his neck, and his arms quickly wrap around you the second that your trembling form curls up to him like a kitten in a storm.

"There she is." He whispers softly as he kisses your forehead, one hand trailing up and down your back as the other one circles tightly around your shoulders to ground you with his presence. "There you go, sweet girl. Take a deep breath, my love."

He can feel the little puffs of air hitting his neck as he continues to hold you, and it brings him back down to earth as well as he works you through your comedown. Soft whispers of praise graze your ear as he moves to clean you up, keeping his movements soft and careful when he sees your eyes begin to flutter shut.

And you look up at him with so much love and trust when he finally pulls you down to lay back against the pillows, he can't stop himself from taking a moment to brush at the soft skin of your cheek before he presses his lips against yours. It's not hungry or lustful - just pure love being poured into you as he pulls the covers up to cover your bare form.

He pulls back just enough to murmur quietly against your lips, eyes looking down at you with so much reverance it makes your head spin.

"I love you so much, baby."

And you can't help the little wobble in your lips or the glassiness in your eyes as you rest your head against the pillow, pulling him closer with your shaky hands as you plant a little kiss on his lips.

"I love you, too, Daddy."

[peace-hunter]

tfone au where OP is created as the last of the primes but way after them, a sparkling born at what were thought to be the last days of the war against the quintessons, the beginning of a new generation of peace after eons of war. a child meant to be loved and raised knowing nothing of war nor sacrifice.

he's kept mostly out of the spotlight by his siblings, who don't wish to expose him to everyone's optics so young, and want to wait until the war is done and over to properly introduce him to their people.

except of course the primes are betrayed and murdered by sentinel, the war is lost and everyone who knows and cared for the truth is either banished or outright killed in order to suppress it.

and the high guard, the ones the primes trusted the most, the ones that were supposed to protect them, the ones who failed in their most important duty, have to make a choice. to take the last prime, their last hope, with them to the surface, a hostile environment where there's little to no supplies and where they'll be hunted down by both sentinel and the quintessons as the biggest threat to their regimen.

or hide him in plain sight. place him where sentinel won't think to look for him. one more sparkling among many. and hope it will be enough to keep him alive. pray to primus that he'll protect his last child long enough for them to come back for him when it's safer (even if most of them have already lost their faith on him when he allowed the rest of his children to be massacred like that)

they almost lose their resolve when they realize they will have to take the little one's cog away in order to make him blend in with the rest of the newborns (and oh do they burn with murderous intent when they see what sentinel has done to their people but it's not the time yet-) but in the end they decide an impaired little prime is better than a dead one.

and so in the chaos of thirteen dead primes and a sudden energon crisis, a little sparkling who very few mechs really knew about and even fewer had seen completely vanishes. and in the depths of iacon a mech in charge of a new batch of newborns scratches their helm in confusion as they realize they must have miscounted the first time.

optimus prime is quietly erased from any official records by sentinel, written off as dead when they find a sparkling's frame mangled beyond recognition after an attack on the base of those rebels that insist on being a thorn on his side. killing the sparkling hadn't been precisely in his plans, he probably could've found some use for it after all, but he's not particularly upset about it either.

and orion pax grows up with an ache on his spark that tells him he's missing something far more important than a t-cog and dreams of gentle and loving hands, cradling him against the frames of mechs he cannot recall the faces of.

[flamingpudding]

Cats are liquide, so is Daniel

... that's what Damian decided after having watched the other for a while and noticed behavior similarites to Alfred, the cat.

Daniel comes and go like he wants unless you made a set plan with him, the only times he appears for sure where the meals Alfred made sure he attended. Otherwise, good luck finding the other if he doesn't want to be found.

That had irked Damian a lot at first but he had learned to accept it, if not completely willingly but Richard insisted that it was good brotherly behavior of him to not demand to Daniel's location when he doesn't want to be found.

Another thing was that his newly acquired brother purred. Like a cat. Damian would never admit it towards his other siblings. But his efforts in getting along with Daniel tripled when he learned this fact. For one, the switch from calling him Fenton to Daniel gained him a pleased purring. He was not calling him by nickname yet, that was something he would refuse longer until he ran out of tactics to make the other comfortable enough to purr.

But the most common fact that Daniel appeared to have with Alfred, the cat, was that his body must be made of liquid or at least as flexible like a cats. While Alfred, again the cat, found tight spaces like vases, bags, bowls and other things comfortable to rest in, Daniel appeared to show something similar.

Tight spaces, like a cupboard, the nocks between to shelves, the little space between a shelve and the ceilings. If Daniel disappeared he could be found in spaces like that. But what him appear even more liquid like was the was Daniel also tented to rest in more common spaces.

Damian had blinked in disbelieve the first time he found Danial in the common room. One leg on the couch, the other on a side table his back laying on the floor a book in his hands he was reading while his head was under the coffee table. And he though is elder siblings were bad with the way the collapsed couches or other seating spaces at times. How was that comfortable?

Another time Damian had found him sleeping, hanging upside down from a bookshelf in the library with his knees hooked on the top of the shelve. The book he appeared to have been reading like that laid fallen on the floor Daniel's arms hanging down above it and his face was getting a rather red coloring with all the blood gravity was pulling down towards it.

Then, there was also that time he found Daniel curled up in a spare tire of the Batmobile after patrol. How did he even manage to fit in there?

So Damian decided Daniel was a human cat. Because as weird as his family was, this was in no shape or form normal behavior. The fact that he was now finding Daniel napping in the chandelier of the foyer like it was a bed proved it. Not even Richard did that.

Really Damian wouldn't even have noticed it if he hadn't happened to look up. He was going to have a talk with Daniel about this even Alfred, the cat, knew to behave better than this. And if that didn't work, then he would allert his other siblings or maybe he should go directly to Pennyworth with this.

[pangur-and-grim]

this broken leg experience has made me realize how much muscle you need just to move around the house. I can walk without the cast now, but squatting to pick something up? kneeling and then rising? even standing for a long period in the kitchen takes a lot. and carrying things too, that’s something I couldn’t do while hopping about on crutches. every night I’ve been going to sleep with sore legs and arms just from performing my normal non-intensive household tasks.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Do you think it is possible for the other trolls to gaslight Eridan into do the murder for the right cause? E.g. not like the murderstuck in the canon but guiding his murderous direction to align with the purpose, using him as a disposable glass cannon and a cannon fodder to take down enemies? but not easily disposable due to seadweller's physical strength and his fighting skills. Not the optimal way to handle him but given that he needs some presence of others how will this scenario go?

no because i believe eridan is the specific type of idiot that you can't actually manipulate because he doesn't listen to people. god bless 🫡

[arttsuka]

Some past fiddlestan? (Like Ford just went through the portal. He gone now. Past. Yk?)

The mystery misery yaoi

[the-effect-of-chaos]

So I have been reading "My Loneliness is Killin Me (Baby)" and it has been stirring up my desire to write an Omegaverse cannon Divergence Steddie fic like gasoline thrown on a already lit bonfire.

So OF COURSE that means I have to brainstorm this fucker somewhere so I am taking you along for the ride.

We are making Omegaverse weird again and going back to the foundations of the genre. Slick butts. I love the new (I know not really new but still) take on Omegas and Alphas being intersex, and I certainly enjoy reading them but I have a craving that will not be denied so back to slick butts and butt babies we go. I have my reasons for this and it also relates to female alphas not having a Knot but a Lock (this comes from a conversation with my dearest friend Fishie a good few years ago about a series of books that use this concept that has never left my head)

Steve is a late bloomer, he has been unpresented through nearly all of high school and while he was with Nancy. Everyone is adamant his body is just biding its time before flooring him with a presentation rut the size of America because they are so certain he will be an Alpha.

Cue them all being wrong.

Post Season 2's week from hell for Steve, between his heart getting shattered, meeting and bonding the Party (his puppies), dealing with the Demodogs, followed by the plate to the head concussion and protecting the pups in their hairbrained plans for the tunnels. It should come as no surprise when he is thrown into the most painful presentation heat of the fucking century.

Following a second week from hell for Steve that was his heat, once he is lucid enough to breathe, think, and not just be trapped in heat and dreams (nightmares so many goddamn nightmares) his goes hunting for a solution to the nightmares.

Obviously that is going to inevitably lead him to Eddie. Eddie who is parked up after school off road in the woods on the trail towards Skull Rock and Lovers Lake.

I feel what is most natural to happen is something akin to Hidden in the Woods by @thepossummoldypasta EXCEPT as fairytale and incredibly cute as that fic is and you should absolutely go read the fuck out of it!!! my take will be different but the scenario similar.

Cue Eddie unintentionally getted dragged into Steve Harrington's life and the aftermath of UD shenanigans well before Spring 86.

I am considering the following possibilities as well for shits and giggles (I say considering like the liar I am all of the below will be appear):

Accidental temporary bonding (likely through being scent mates and getting scent drunk on a newly presented Omega/ the first Alpha scented post presentation heat)

The revelation of Steve's no good very bad never around Parents. And a whole lot of their treatment leading Steve to have issues with following his instincts. Because he was never taught, he never learned and now he is the complete opposite designation everyone and their dog seemed to be manifesting for him. Despite that he loves being Omega solely for the knowledge he can now have and build that family he's always dreamed of and he doesn't actually need anyone else to make it happen if need be (he will have pups with or without a mate social expectations be fucking damned, he was raised to be an Alpha so is very much aware of all he needs to protect himself and any puppies he has and not to mention raise any alphan pups on his own).

Since this is pre Robin the equally as heartbreaking revelation that Steve Harrington has no Pack besides the 3 puppies he adopted on sight during his first week from hell in 84. (Don't worry the other 3 puppies come later they are not safe from adoption).

Non-sterotypical A/B/O actions from Steve as an Omega*. I personally headcannon that Omegas are prone to going absolutely feral in the protection of their loved ones or pups. Like put an Omega’s pups into danger and they will rip, tear, scratch, spit and bite. They will fight as dirty and as scrappily as they need to in the defence of those they consider their own. * Additionally I like to hc that Omega’s obviously do not always come as the more petite or fragile even if that may be what is considered the most conventionally attractive socially. So let your omegas be built heavier, they are the capable of carrying pups after all, so they can have wider hips and thicker thighs but also broader shoulders for being able to physically carry the pups too. Let them be strong and capable.

Now with the above that means I also am considering to have bumbling over the top mother henning Steve while he gets used to his more over powering instincts. This means none of the pups are safe from forced grooming sessions and constant scenting and sometimes when required cuddle piling. Stevie boy is going to be completely succumbed to feeding and providing for all the kids much to the amusement of most of their parents (Ted Wheeler can go jump).

Dustin is going to cop it the worst, enter Claudia Henderson who takes one look at Steve and just force adopts him. They have a guest room that sits vacant and is more a storage space then anything, she starts cleaning it out the minute he leaves her place for the first time since she met him. Dustin both loves this idea and hates it because his mom is just as bad as Steve is without the instinctual driving force, so the idea of them all living together is both incredibly warm and cosy but also startlingly smothering (don't worry Dustin, Steve will get better once his new instincts and hormones settle down.)

Upside down fam wise I am adding Claudia and Wayne to the mix of genuine adults in the know. FIRSTLY In this fic-to-be Claudia is a former ER Doctor turned ObGyn, turned NICU nurse because the stress of the job got to her especially with all of Dustin's health scares as a kid. Therefore my reasoning is the UD fam need an on call medic who actually knows what the fuck they are doing. SECONDLY Wayne is potentially a Korean (will have to check dates and do some age calculations) AND Vietnam War Vet, he knows his fucking shit about war, about fighting in unfamiliar territory etc. Also I just want more adults who care about Steve in the know and able to support him. Don't get me wrong I Fucking ADORE Hop as Steve's Dad and I may have plans to include that too, but my boy needs all the adults love and guidance he can get.

And because I am an absolute WHORE for angst with a happy ending and hurt/comfort there will be plenty of emotional turmoil, physical Steve whump (he looks soo pretty covered in blood), mental and emotional torture followed by so much love - platonic, romantic, familial you name it.

It will probably be mid to slow burn Steddie if I am honest even with the accidental bonding. That is just going to force them into constant close proximity. They will dance around each others feelings for a while all whole procrastinating breaking the bond because if they are honest neither of them wants to. But I am too impatient to drag that shit out to season 4 events, so Eddie will likely lose his shit while Starcourt is happening and when he finds Steve probably while they are throwing fucking fireworks at the Mind Flayer, is going to stop the dancing real fucking quick when they are outside with the EMTs.

E:"I almost lost you tonight"

S: "I mean yeah but I'm fine?"

E: "Like hell you're fine Princess! You were fucking trapped and tortured by Russians and I would never have known what happened."

S "is this about the bond nearly breaking?"

E: "Yes this is about the bond nearly breaking sugar!"

S: "Sorry, I know they said it would hurt a bit but I figured it would be worth it for the freedom it would give-"

E: "and what if I don't want that hmm? What if I am happy with the way things are going?

[Cue Eddie's rambling fired up angry flustered confession that leaves Steve winded but warm. He never thought Eddie could ever really want him as a proper bondmate after they accidentally trapped themselves into a scent induced bonding. There will be confessions on both sides of long distance interest, yearning and pining since like they were puppies themselves because I can't help myself so I shall indulge myself decadently with all my favourite headcanons and tropes.]

And to finish off this 2 hour fucking ramble in the early hours of the morning, it will be titled Red Strings.

Because I am a romantic and live for soulmate content so I will be absolutely indulging in that too.

And if they end up with little red tattoo like marks that are two halves of a whole that appear when they accidentally bond well that's for me to know and you to find out.

UNTIL THEN I NEED FUCKING SLEEP!

[sysig]

Caughtcha, gotcha, not letting go ♥ (Patreon)

[mod2amaryllis]

sad to go to work tomorrow cuz it's my second to last day :(

[the-patrex]

Tomorrow I'll draw something and if I dont you guys can beat me with hammers

[jasperyourmutt]

Need a dom that will lovingly but firmly pull me away from my work desk at the end of the day and refocus my attention on a chew toy or something

[youngpettyqueen]

Julian's line of "I needed another womb for the baby, and the only two other people on board were Major Kira and me." is already very. That Man Is Trans. and listen yes you can interpret it as him saying Kira was the only choice, but then it's literally followed up by Sisko saying "I think you made the right choice, Doctor." which I know is supposed to be a joke but the implication IS there that there WAS a choice and basically Julian is trans

[trebuchet151]

I've gotten close enough to a canon-ish route to feel comfortable doing a stat sheet for Chase!

For fun art style comparisons sake, some art of her from 2015 under the cut (almost a decade ago....i feel old suddenly....)

im determined to keep those claws in her villain suit design somehow

[authenticcadence18]

Yall we are actually getting new phineas and ferb this year I just remembered and am feeling like. Giddy, 2010s era joy about it 🥺🥺