#mcu fandom is tripping

[schrodingersachillesheel]

write spideytorch field trip au write spideytorch field trip au write spideytorch field trip au write spideytorch field trip au write spideytorch field trip au

[mylittledelulucorner]

Slow, golden morning in Egypt with Marc Spector

The room is bathed in a soft, honeyed glow, warm embrace. Sunbeams spill through the window, dust floating lazily like tiny golden specks.

[sundropcass]

i love how so many fandoms have a specific niche fanfic plotline that everyone is collectively obsessed with at some point and so there are literally 30 million iterations of it. my favorite genre.

[losingthegame]

love how every fandom has its signature trope & fics, the “or the _____ fic”

[badsexbingo]

BSB Week 4 Round Up

There's a few of you that are just CHURNING OUT THE BAD SEX and I love you for it -- and we have our first two bingos!! We now have a "bingo" tag for that, and feel free to pursue the coveted "BINGO BLACKOUT" tag if you'd like.

BIG UPS AND MUCH APPRECIATION to all of our participants!

Reblogged this week:

Two fics from @aerodaltonimperial, (link) which hits Lazy Partner and Furniture break, and (link) which hits Inadvisable Lay and someone called the cops on your scene AND makes a BINGOOOO

@nachttraum finished their MCU thorki fic, (link) covering Sex toy over promised & under-delivered, that's not lube, and Embarrassing ER trip in the last few chapters and hitting BINGOOOOOOOOO

CONGRATS TO YALL GANG

Otherwise in the Ao3 Collection this week:

by 1candyangle, (link) a BNHA Bakugou/uraraka/izuku fic hitting Theory was hotter than practice.

by lucymonster (link) a reylo fic covering [RELATION] walking in on you

Don't forget you can request a board at any time, just check out our pinned post!

[maya-chirps]

It's 3 AM and I'm just thinking about how sad and awkward it was to reconnect with my childhood best friend and realize we literally don't like the same things anymore and we grew up in completely different worlds after elementary school and I don't even know how honest I could be with her anymore and even worse now that we're both adults but the last time she saw me was me almost dying in the hospital with so many scars on my face and being barely able to breathe and talk to her and just... man...

[your-darling-gaze]

◯ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈.𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒆𝒙

♡ Liked by you.know.frankieeex and others

𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈.𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒆𝒙 ¡Qué viaje, Barça! ♡

[anxious-fandom-bean]

i love how "--" and "~~" have overtime become so synonymous with time skips in fanfic that nobody feels the need to specify that its a time skip like they did in the early days of fandom

[august-parker]

There are so many Peter Parker headcanons that I think is so adorable that the entire fandom (mostly mcu but also comics) just came together to unanimously agree on

For example Peter being a stress Baker??? Where did that come from? Not that I'm complaining because I can totally see him making cupcakes while crying at like midnight but what in the movies gave us this idea???

Or the fact that people took the traits of actual spiders and just slapped them on him

Like YES he does get cold easily and he can't regulate his body temperature normally, yes he does have venom glands, yes he does make web nests, yes he does have blue blood like a little freakish creature.

I LOVE SPIDER-Y PETER PARKER‼️

And god DAMN do I live for lab days, yes he DOES bond with Tony in the lab after school, and yes Tony DOES call him "his kid"

And you better BELIEVE he goes on field trips to Stark tower only to get embarrassed by all the Avengers talking about how "sweet and funny" he is

All of these headcanons are canon to me and my fellow fandom losers🩷

[terrimisu]

Just Bob • robert reynolds

Chapter 1: Poke and Prod

Fandom: MCU | Thunderbolts (Sentry)

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader (Y/N), ensemble cast

Warnings: mental health themes, dissociation, trauma flashbacks, emotional breakdown, telekinetic burst, subtle horror, past overdose

Word Count: ~2.4k

⸻

Summary:

At Valentina’s request, Yelena walks Bob into his session—this time, all the way in. But something cracks beneath the surface. And when someone from his past reappears, what he’s worked so hard to suppress erupts, in ways even the Tower can’t contain.

⸻

Bob felt more on edge than usual—especially as Yelena stepped out of the elevator with him, heading toward his psychiatrist’s ward.

His brows furrowed as he turned to her.

“What are you—”

“Let me come with you,” Yelena cut him off, her soft gloved hand brushing his shoulder. She took his wrist firmly and led the way.

His eyes lingered on the back of her head—on how strands of blond hair bounced with each step, the polished floor beneath echoing the soft squeak of her boots.

It was a strange companion sound that made his usual trip feel less lonely.

But as they neared the hallway—passing the lobby and a few pieces of equipment—his vision blurred, warped at the edges. He stopped in his tracks and squeezed Yelena’s hand.

“S-Stop,” he stammered.

Yelena quickly turned back as they reached the door.

“I… You shouldn’t—” he stumbled, tongue heavy as he tried to think of an excuse for why she shouldn’t come in.

But she looked at him with soft, pitiful, caring eyes—then opened the door to his psychiatrist’s office.

“Valentina told me you’d be coming,” the doctor said, peering over the edge of her glasses before pushing them up the bridge of her nose.

Yelena gently ushered Bob forward, and he hesitantly took his usual spot on the green faux-leather couch. He glanced at Yelena as she sat beside him.

“V-Valentina told you to come?” he asked, almost disappointed—like he’d hoped Yelena had come of her own accord.

“Something like that,” she said.

The psychiatrist didn’t wait long to interrupt.

“We haven’t been talking much in sessions. She wanted to see if this would help.”

She flipped through her notes—barely more than bullet points. Most of them pulled from OXE’s files when Bob was first admitted for the Sentry project.

“You don’t have to have her here,” Bob muttered. “I… I want to do this on my own.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He cleared his throat.

⸻

Behind the ward walls, Valentina watched on a secure monitor.

“Did you ever have anyone help you in moments like this?” the psychiatrist asked.

Bob bit the inside of his cheek. His eyes dropped to his hands.

“No. Not really,” he answered. Then: “I mean…”

He trailed off. Like he’d tasted the words on his tongue—and decided to swallow them instead.

“Sort of?” he tried again, unsure.

An image flickered in his mind.

A woman’s voice. His name on her lips like light at the edge of dark. Like something sacred and gone too soon.

He could hear it.

A memory tucked behind louder stories: the ones he told to explain himself—his father, the overdose, Malaysia, the meth-fueled summer job. Things that sounded heavier. Things people believed.

But this one was different. This one stayed buried deeper.

“Bob, stop.”

“No, please, I have to try. It’s my fault that—”

The words echoed inside him like a replay on loop. His eyes shut tight. The office disappeared. No Yelena. No psychiatrist. Just the darkness he floated above for years.

“Bob.”

A woman’s voice. Weak. Distant. Familiar.

“It is your fault.”

A chill slithered down his spine.

Void.

“Stop!” Bob yelled.

The camera feed flickered. The walls cracked.

⸻

In the observation room, Valentina jumped back.

As if on cue, Mel opened the door.

“The building just shifted,” she reported, stepping aside to let someone in.

“She’s here.”

Valentina turned—and froze.

A woman stood in the doorway.

(H/C) hair framed her face in soft waves, neat but natural. Her skin wasn’t airbrushed, her features untouched by glamour—real. Distinct. Her (E/C) eyes shimmered with nerves, her lips trembling into a cautious smile.

“You must be Valentina,” she said, extending a hand.

“Y/N,” she introduced. “I’m surprised you didn’t hesitate. Most would, when special operatives show up at their door.”

Valentina turned back to the monitor.

“Sit. Mel, close the door.”

Y/N sat beside her. Her voice came out hoarse, like she hadn’t spoken much—like it hurt.

“That’s him. That’s really him,” she whispered. “I saw the photos you sent but… oh my god.”

She lifted her hands to her mouth. As if in prayer.

“Bob,” she said softly. Her eyes welled. “Oh, Bob.”

The monitor glitched. Static bled into the screen.

The lights flickered.

⸻

Back inside the ward, Bob’s breathing was shallow, erratic.

Yelena’s hand gripped his—tight, anchoring.

“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

He exhaled hard through his nose, his shoulders trembling.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” he stammered. “I keep thinking about it again—this time it doesn’t hurt like the rest.”

“What happened?” the psychiatrist asked.

Bob’s eyes twitched, unfocused. Gold shimmered faintly inside deep blue.

He opened his mouth to speak—then froze.

“Bob.”

No one in the room had said it. It was something external…or internal?

He felt a sinking feeling inside of him, its darkening depth looming in the pit of his stomach and rising to his chest.

It’s just the Void, he thought, that part of him that weighed him down in silence, but seemed to be breaking the barrier more than usual.

“Bob.”

It came again.

Not condemning. Not afraid.

Not questioning or clinical.

It was grateful. Relieved. Almost warm.

He focused on it. Let it in.

“Oh, Bob.”

The sound rang sharp in his ears—like bells next to his head. His name echoed and landed.

His eyes opened.

And this time—they glowed brighter. Warmer.

His hand clutched Yelena’s tighter. The room began to shake.

“Whoa—okay,” Yelena said, voice tight. Her other hand steadied his forearm.

“You’re squeezing a little too hard.”

The psychiatrist looked terrified. Confused. Like she was realizing this wasn’t part of the manual.

“Bob, calm down.”

His gaze shot upward—to the security camera tucked in the corner.

Not angry. Not monstrous.

Just scared. Terrified. Like a child waiting for punishment.

“She’s… no.”

His heart raced, and his eyes gleamed a bright light of a thousand suns.

“Y/N.”

The camera sparked—and snapped. Machinery dangled from the wall and thudded against the room. The psychiatrist shrieked — covering her head from stray cinders.

“Who’s—” Yelena began, but her words halted.

Her hand suddenly felt weightless.

She looked beside her.

Bob was gone.

⸻

📝 A/N:

Finally we meet Y/N, and it seems she not only shakes up Bob, but the whole tower. Next chapter will be released soon! Kinda wanna get the ball rolling.

Taglist:

@werewolfgirl1995

@naushtheaspiringauthor

@sapphirest0nes

@articel1967

@horrormovielover2000

Taglist open. DM to be added.

[sarahcmarie]

I love fandom cause I get to project I’ll of my problems/habits onto my favorite characters like here are some examples

I head cannon Steve Roger’s having frequent migraines

Dick Grayson always carrying cash

Tim drake loving road trips

Peter Parker (mcu) can’t sit still for more than 1 hr before he has to walk around

Jason Todd can’t follow a recipe to save his life he always adjusts ingredients and adds more seasonings

[wylanlupin]

I wanted to post a sneak peek from a funny moment of the first chapter xD it’s them - so the entire chapter is pure comedy haha

still, a little sneak peek;

Everyone looks up, all eyes on the Red Guardian. “And what would that be?” Walker asks, putting down his pen. “We are going to Road Trip!”

“Oh no,” Yelena murmurs to herself, what gets her a sharp side eye from Ava. “Road Trip?” Bucky repeats.

Alexei beams at his confused face and rounds to room, to be standing in front of them. “We take the weekend off-“

“We always have the weekend off.” Walker frowns at him. “We have everyday off, except when we get called to save the world.”

“Or to pose for stupid posters,” Ava complains, with humorless laugh at the end. “But you look very good on the posters!”

“Bob.” Ava warns with a raised eyebrow.

I started writing my first thunderbolts* fanfic - I want to write about the 14 months and to see them bond as a family

giving myself a little treat with voidwalker in there

and some aroace representation with yelena - not without some starrlight tho 👀

[oneshotdepresso]

Hi :)

sorry for dropping in your inbox like that but I have a question: what's the lore behind the cyprus vacation? Did they go there on their own? Just the two of them?

I stepped away from fandom last year and came back through esc this year and I am confused hahaha

yes

ok serious lore time now:

last year, jere had a trip to cyprus sponsored by a travel company, tjareborg, and instead of going alone or taking anyone else, he decided to bring bojan with him! for one week! one week of bojere alone time in a cyprus resort

jere was being a lil shit about it too, posting an ig story similar to the few times he's lamented abt missing bojan in the middle of vacation. we thought, oh haha he's missing bojan again. the next day rolls around, he slowly pans to the right and there's bojan handing him a drink in full hyped up mcu style cameo reveal fashion. if we were in a cinema, the movie wouldve had a deliberate dramatic pause to give space for the whole audience cheering and jumping up in joy

in the span of five-ish days? we were greeted with a treasure trove of ig stories. they had tequila shots where the guys in ponchos held their chins while pouring liquor into their mouths. they did karaoke, bojan sang ain't no sunshine by bill withers to an inexplicable flaming heart on the floor. they had a confusing encounter with a british kid with a good singing voice and his weird dad who claims his kid's "not a singer but a fighter!!"

oh yeah, this whole time? they were staying in one hotel room. with one bed. in a resort that's close to a lil rock landmark called "the bridge of love"

the last day rolls around, jere posts his thanks to the sponsor with bojan happily reading his book by the pool. he points to their rakas huone (beloved room), he calls bojan minun ukkeli (his old man). we go insane one last time, but that was the end of it. or so we thought.

and then bojan flies back to helsinki with jere. is spotted at a 30 seconds to mars show, and proceeds to ask his ig followers if there are any fun events happening in helsinki that night.

finally, jere's 2024 european tour starts. we assume bojan's left by then, leaving us with the aftermath with hundreds of sad bojere bitches found dead.

a few friends and i wrote a whole collab fic abt it btw

[cosmicwavelengths]

(disclaimer!! these are not tropes i came up with, i saw them on tiktok reflecting on 2021 mcu era hcs and decided to reshare them - credits go to the creators) how to i successful combine all of these 2021 marvel fanfic tropes into a oneshot

peter sticking magnets on bucky's metal arm

steve having artist abilities (secretly)

thor and his love of poptarts (random but ok)

clint spending his spare time in tower vents (how?)

natasha not being able to cook

peter being able to lift mjolnir (also random)

bucky eating nothing but plums

thor only ever typing in capitals

(bonus) bucky and steve signing off their texts as "Sincerely, [Full Name]" like captain holt from brooklyn 99

midtown field trips to avengers tower (so cute)

loki and his obsession with the tesseract

stark parties every weekend (better than destroying half of the city ig)

shopping at the mall with wand and nat

y/n has wanda's powers but in purple and we are kidnapped by hydra for some reason (lol)

honorable mention: peter going on a school trip to stark tower and having full security clearance ("ahh geez i have no idea why mj damn that's crazy")

i've been watching mcu films since they first came out and i sincerely regret not being around for the 2020/2021 mcu fandom era with all these tropes, they seem so endearing (we can just pretend that the blip didn't happen and everyone is alive and well)

(p.s. if you want to reply with your fav mcu fics that revolve around one or more of these tropes PLZ reply with them thanks <3)

[phantomof-themcu]

Unyielding: Claws and Scales (Loki x fem!black!Reader)

______________________________________________________________

Summary:

After a long night of dealing with the politics of your divine family, you return home only to find Loki waiting—furious, wounded, and unwilling to let her disappearance go unchallenged. What begins as a clash of wills turns into something far more intimate, as anger, love, and longing collide in the sanctuary of their penthouse. But beneath the sharp words and burning touches lies a deeper truth—one that neither of them dares to speak aloud, yet both are desperate to prove.

Pairing:

mcu/avengers!Loki x black!fem!goddess!reader (It is alluded that you are something similar to, if not, MCU Bast. Or, just represented by panthers)

Word Count:1.5k

Author’s Note:

Hey y’all. This is my first fanfic I’ve written since I was like…I don’t know, 10? Regardless, I just felt like I haven’t seen enough pairings of certain characters (from all fandoms) with a black reader. I’ve loved Loki my entire MCU trip and I used to wish someone would write a fanfic for me when I was younger so, I guess this is for anyone who’s wished the same thing. Here you go! Also, let me know if y’all want me to write the “spicy” scene. I’m not opposed to it. Please, like, comment, and share!

______________________________________________________________

The moment I slipped through the doors of our penthouse, I exhaled, willing the tension in my shoulders to dissipate. The council meeting had been insufferable. To reprimand both my little brother Khonshu and my little sister Ammit was an ordeal I would rather not repeat. The Ennead never changed—prideful, stubborn, and exhausting.

I eased off my sandals, flexing my toes against the cool floor, savoring the contrast after a night spent standing in the presence of too many self-important gods. My siblings. But before I could take another step, the lights flared on.

My body tensed instinctively. The hairs on my arms stood on end, and a startled yelp—a distinctly feline sound—escaped my lips before I could swallow it.

"So much for cat-like stealth."

Loki’s voice was cool, but there was something simmering beneath it, something sharp. He stood in the doorway of our bedroom, his hand still on the switch, his expression unreadable. His emerald eyes glowed in the artificial light, his face cast in a mask of restrained anger.

I sighed, brushing an errant curl from my face. "Handling business that did not concern you."

Loki did not move, but his presence filled the space between us. "Where were you?"

"Loki—"

"Where?" The question was no longer gentle.

I turned, walking toward the living room, letting my fingers trace over the sleek furniture as I put space between us. "The council meeting ran long. Our domains required mediation. I was needed."

His steps were soundless as he followed me. "What have I told you about leaving without a word?" His voice was lower now, like a storm gathering on the horizon.

I turned to face him, arms crossing over my chest. "And what have I told you about caging me?"

Loki's jaw tightened, his lips a thin line. "You speak as if I wish to control you. I only ask for the courtesy of knowing where you go."

"Courtesy? Or control?" My voice was a blade, slicing between us. My gentle accent wasn't so gentle in that moment.

His nostrils flared, his hands clenching at his sides. "Do not twist my words, my panthress. Do you know what it does to me, waking to find you gone with no trace? Do you know the madness that grips me when I imagine the worst? You may be a goddess, but even gods fall. And I—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply.

A pause stretched between us, charged and fragile. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, barely contained, crashing against the unyielding shore of my calm.

I took a step closer. "You fear losing me."

His eyes darkened. "I know what it is to lose. I know what it is to be abandoned, to be discarded like something worthless. Do not make me feel that way again."

The confession settled between us, raw and aching.

I inhaled, reaching up to touch his face, my fingers grazing the sharp angles of his jaw. "I am not leaving you. I will always return to you."

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch before pulling away, pacing. "I do not need reassurances. I need actions. I need you to understand that when you disappear without a word, it is not just an absence—it is a wound. And wounds, my dearest, fester."

His voice was not just anger; it was pain, old and deep. A wound that even time had not healed.

I studied him, the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers curled into fists as if he were holding himself together.

"Loki, you are not the only one who has lost," I murmured, stepping closer, pressing my palm against his chest. "You are not the only one who has been left behind. But I am not leaving you. Not now. Not ever."

His gaze locked onto mine, searching for the truth in my words. And whatever he found there made his anger shift, change. It did not disappear, but it softened, melted into something else entirely.

His hands found my waist, his grip firm but no longer rigid. "Swear it."

I arched a brow. "You doubt me?"

His lips quirked, the ghost of a smile. "I doubt everything. It is my nature."

I exhaled a laugh, my fingers tracing the sharp lines of his collarbone. "Then let me prove it to you."

The air between us thickened, charged. The battle of words was over, but another battle—a different kind—was about to begin.

Loki was not gentle. He was desperate, a storm restrained for too long, and now finally unleashed. The way his hands found my skin, his lips claimed mine—it was not merely passion. It was possession, a reminder of all the times I had slipped through his fingers before and a vow that he would not allow it again.

I matched him, unyielding. He may be a god of mischief, chaos if you will, but I was not willing to beam down. I was grace, control, fluidity. For every desperate grasp, I gave an effortless caress, for every demanding press of lips, I met him with measured defiance. We moved through the space like warriors in battle, a clash of dominance and surrender, a test of limits and breaking points.

He lifted me with ease, pressing me against the cool wall, the contrast of temperature sending a shiver down my spine. His lips moved along my throat, breath hot, words a whisper between fervent kisses. "You make me mad, my sweet panthress. Mad with need, with fear, with want."

I tangled my fingers in his dark hair, pulling just enough to make him groan. "And yet, you still love me."

A low chuckle, dark and full of something possessive. "Hopelessly."

I smiled against his lips before biting down lightly, making him hiss in surprise and pleasure. "Then prove it."

By the time we reached the bed, I was no longer sure where he ended and I began. The moonlight painted patterns on our skin, the ebony glow of a body perfectly fit with its ivory-toned constellation. The city beyond our windows oblivious to the storm that raged within our sanctuary.

Words faded into gasps, into whispered names, into silent promises etched into the very essence of our beings. And when the storm finally settled, when bodies lay entwined and breath slowed, there was no need for more reassurances.

We had spoken in the only language that mattered now.

And in the morning, when the world called for us once more, I knew we would answer it together.

[gremlin-girly]

Day 19: Fondue

Pairing: Steve Rogers x gn!reader

Fandom: MCU

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, suggestiveness, but reader is oblivious, camambert is a warning bc I can't spell it to save my life apparently(???), awkward Steve

Summary: Steve asks if you like fondue, to which you respond

Word count: 369

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied or reposted or put through an AI machine.

Prev | Next | Fluffcember 2024 | Navigation

"So do you two... fondue?"

"What?"

"Uhh. I mean-"

Steve's day couldn't get any worse. He was supposed to ask if you were seeing Jared in accounting and his brain just decided that the best way to ask that was if the both of you fondue?

And he only wanted to know so he knew if he had a chance with you. Although considering his awful choice in words, that chance may have just evaporated in front of his very eyes.

You blink at Steve and then you look thoughtful, actually considering what he said. Steve groaned internally. Way to go Rogers.

"Well, yeah. I like a good fondue as much as the next person." You say, not noticing how Steve's cheeks begin to glow. "It's just a lot of cheese. Definitely more than one person should be involved. Although, I'm more of a baked camambert person myself."

You raise an eyebrow at Steve. "Why do you ask? Do you like fondue?"

Steve can't manage words. His brain stopped functioning after your first sentence. You had somehow misinterpreted his question and then turned it back onto him. This was exceptional luck but also incredibly stupid. "Erm..."

"Or have you never had it?" You press, watching Steve's cheeks grow redder and redder with impish curiousity.

He clears his throat awkwardly and finds his voice. "No but I-I would like to."

You clap your hands together excitedly. You'd been trying to figure out a game plan to ask Steve out for weeks, and lo and behold, he was the one to randomly drop a great date idea into your lap.

"I know a great place for fondue. I could... take you there sometime?"

"Yes!" Steve blurts excitedly before clearing his throat one final time and in a slightly less excitable, totally cool tone adds, "I'd love to go with you."

"Alright!" You grin at him. "It's a date."

You miss the way Steve practically trips over his own feet to tell Bucky and Sam what just happened, his eyes going gooey as he tells them how you'd smiled at him.

Sam and Bucky share a look and Sam snorts.

"Sooooo," Bucky drawls. "They asked you to fondue with them?"

"Shut up."