#I just like men when they’re bloody <3

[beedlemania]

Jolenzmith serial killer au

Davy lures victims by flirting with them, Mike kidnaps them, Micky does experiments on them and when they serve no more purpose, Mike kills them

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 - PART 5 (NSFW)

You started having the dream again. The disembodied eyes of your father floating in a black void. Just the eyes. Nothing else.

And for hours- and it really felt like hours- they would just stare at you. The eyes never moved, or blinked, or did anything other than hang in the air. But there was a terrible sense of dread when you looked into them. You couldn’t force yourself to look away.

And so that was why you had been losing sleep. You didn’t tell your mother that though. When she asked what troubled you, you made up some excuse to quell her worry. You could never tell her the truth; the truth that there was some piece of you left which never recovered. But guilt nearly destroyed your mother, and you couldn’t bear to let it fester in her any longer.

On Sunday you spread all of the ingredients the orc man gave you across your table. He didn’t even tell you the measurements. Your mother glanced down at you as she made her way to the root cellar. She stopped in her tracks, “By the Gods, are you making golden eggs?” You cocked your head at her questioningly. “Where did you find turmeric all the way out here?” She grabbed a pinch of it, “And so much of it too!”

“Uh-“ Your mother had a sparkle in her eyes that you hadn’t seen for a few years. She chuckled to herself, “Years ago. Many many years ago. There was a very nice orc family who lived just down the path. The wife taught me this recipe.”

Orc family? This was the first you have heard of an orc family. “You never told me you had orc friends Ma!” You jeered at her. She smiled warmly. “You hadn’t been born yet, of course you wouldn’t have remembered. Your elder sister loved playing with the little orc girl.” She reached for a jar from the cupboard and began concocting the mixture. When she was done the eggs swirled around in the vibrant yellow brine.

There was still turmeric left over, and your mother was so excited to show you how it could even be an excellent clothing dye. She took one of your more drab frocks got to work.

~

You weren’t used to feeling pretty. Sure, you knew you weren’t ugly by any stretch of the imagination. But to feel pretty? Beautiful even? It had been years.

But today, on regular Monday, you felt radiant. Your mother actually gasped when you stepped out of your room. You looked like a dream in the yellow shade your mother had dyed the fabric. She insisted on arranging your hair specially to go with the dress. “It’s just another Monday, Ma. Any more primping and I’ll be over-dressed.” The older woman sighed, kissing you on the forehead, “Fine go along now… before I start braiding daisies in your hair.” You giggled and practically skipped out the front door. Tucked in your basket was the jar of golden eggs.

The town square was nearly vacant, save for a few other shopkeepers opening up for the day. And then you saw the trio of orc men sharpening their arrows and adjusting the tension of their great longbows. You reckoned they were just about to leave for a hunt. Curse the Gods for your lingering gaze, but you made direct eye contact with one of them. You made direct eye contact with him. The orc you had bloodied and bruised the previous week.

Something (probably a lack of self-preservation) compelled you to start walking towards the bunch. If your mother could make peace with orcs, why couldn’t you? “But this isn’t a peaceful family with children, they’re trained killers, y/n…” You thought to yourself. The little muscle inside your chest was puttering away as you got closer. The two other hunting mates had started to notice your approach now. Your orc acquaintance had sort of a surprised yet dumb look on his face as you stopped before him.

”You didn’t write me a recipe, but you can thank my mother for knowing how to prepare these.” You extended the jar to him. His friends were snickering to themselves, and the orc just sat there staring at the contents of the jar. One of his buddies guffawed and whacked a big hand onto his back, “This simpleton can’t read to save his life… won’t be getting any recipes from him!”

You also held out the two silver pieces he had given you, and dropped them into his open palm. “And I can’t take these. Not after I injured you. Can we consider ourselves even now?”

“Khargaad, you didn’t tell us this was who the scuffle was with.” The other orc friend chuckled, “And look at that, not a scratch on her. Guess she won.”

Khargaad. Was that his name? Or was it a word in their mother tongue? He shot a venomous look to his friends, and with that they backed away leaving the two of you alone. “These look… like they’re supposed to,” He said in a tone of mild surprise. “Your mother… She knows other orcs?”

Was he trying to make conversation with you? “Um- Yes! Yes, it was a long while ago. They lived down the road from my family. It was before I was born, but they got along well from what I hear,” you replied. There was a deeply awkward pause before he glanced quickly at your dress. “Oh!” You gasped, “my mother taught me about this as well. The yellow stuff you gave me is an excellent clothing dye.”

“Yes, I know.” His tone was a little gruff. You felt foolish for telling him what he probably already knew. “Your name is Khargaad?” You blurted out. A hint of color rose to his cheeks, “Yup. Khargaad. And- um- what may I call you?”

”y/n,” you replied with a nervous smile. Silence hung over the both of you for a second. “Well, I’ll be on my way.” He said, turning on his heel to join his hunting mates. “Stay safe out there!” You responded. Your inner-self cringed, that reply was probably too familiar. He glanced back at you one more time before jogging to catch his friends.

~

The next day Milo found you sweeping outside the shop. “Why were you talking to those orcs?” He spat at you. You didn’t look up at him, “Just customers.” This technically wasn’t untrue.

”You don’t have orc customers”

”Says who. You?” You snorted at him, pushing the dust from the cobblestones onto his shiny leather boots. He yanked the broom from your grasp, “Why are you wearing that?” He hissed. You glared at him, wrenching the broom back from his grasp. “It’s none of your fucking business-“

“Let me buy you new dresses, y/n. You look like an orc.” You straightened a bit. “What do you mean?” Milo rolled his eyes. “It’s turmeric. They often dye their clothes with turmeric. It looks ridiculous if you ask me…” He trailed off. You were tired of this conversation, leaving him standing in the street. He didn’t bother to follow you inside.

The rest of the day was uneventful. You spent the last hour hammering some boards over the window still shattered from your target practice.

You didn’t notice Karghaad watching you across the square.

————————————————————————

Thank you to everyone’s sweet comments, and to those who wanted a part 2 😘

@kennedyabraxas123 @allthecraftandthings @sunndust @blushycadaver @whyiamadegenerate @beaniebaneenie @reads-stuff-quietly

[rookiesbookies]

Please I need more strength kink like you wrote for König but for the text of the COD men. Does Soap show off and lift heavier when he sees you saunter into the gym? Does Ghost try not to pay attention as you stare? I am down bad for these boys

So this is the most recent ask Ive gotten but dont fret my other requesters, yalls are taking more time bc they’re longer form pieces (I dont want to spoil but honeymoon/consummation night with Ghost (doing some research for this one), some Konig wifey bits (there’s two or three), and Ghost’s wife wearing his mask) Im so excited you all are interacting with me I just wanna say. I love you all *MUAH* big kiss.

Also I took Keegan off this one bc I don’t think I have a lot of Keegan fans reading? (ik I love him tho) so if anyone wants it just put a comment and I’ll write one and edit it so its in here.

Edit right here: I put Keegan down at the bottom. Dw Keegan girlies he’s here now.

Another edit: I put Krueger bc a reblog asked for it

Without much more here’s:

Strength Kink with the 141

Masterlist is pinned as always, also let me know if yall want any as full blown fics.

Price

Price is an “old dog” as he calls himself. He knows he’s getting softer, the wrinkles are setting in, he doesn't quite have the body he used to as a LT. Kinda got a dad bod after adopting 3 boys.

First time he sees you drool over him? He is down fucking bad. Will do anything to see his sweet lady all red in the face over him again.

Fucking saunters over to you, hits you with “you can feel if ya like, love. Go on.” just holds his arms away from his chest while he’s in his tank top.

If you take him up on this offer (and I assume yall are dating at this point) and even just grab at a peck, he is tense. His abs are tight, his butt is clenched, he is doing it all to seem like he still has his young and sharp LT body.

He knows you dont care and love his dad bod and all his soft pillowy goodness but sometimes he feels like the pillsbury dough boy.

Absolutely would pick you up and carry you bridal style at any chance.

Tells you he’s “just practicing” however he is very clearly showing off.

If you come find him at the gym to drool all over him, that max he was only supposed to do one of per set, he is not repping.

“John, are you sure- I’ve never seen you lift this much you look red-”

“I'm alright, love, just doing my reps trying to set a new pr.” Little do you know that by repping this, this is his new pr.

Gaz and Soap are sitting there mouth open because Price has never done that and not fallen over and now he just KEEPS. GOING.

And Price’s wife just keeps drooling over him as Simon spots the poor guy.

(This is what i mean btw)

Soap

The worst about it of them all.

I'm telling you right now, if you have an oral fixation on his muscles, he will mate for life like a swan. Because if you mark up his muscles he will do EVERY SINGLE WORK OUT shirtless until Ghost is like “Johnny. You look like a slut and smell like a whore with all that cologne. We’re in the bloody gym.”

He will walk around shirtless in the tightest sweatpants to show off his thighs and abs to you.

Will bench press you.

Put your weight on the hip thrust and will call you over or send videos of him doing it.

If you’re sitting somewhere he will just pick you up and move you for the hell of it under the excuse he wanted to sit there just to see you get red.

If you compliment his body once, I'M TELLING YOU ONE TIME, he will buy the TIGHTEST shirts imaginable around the house to show off his shoulders, back, pecs, biceps, and abs.

If you even mention having a bad day, your face is going between his pecs. He also absolutely can do the thing where he can flex them one at a time and he does it 24/7 for fun.

Catch him planking at the gym?

Feeling bold?Let’s shimmy under the poor bastard to look up at him.

“Do push ups.”

“Bonnie, the fuck you mean-”

“Come down, get a kiss, and go back up?”

“And if I fall? Which I won’t but I gotta ask.”

“Can’t feel any worse than when you dive onto the bed to wake me up in the mornings.”

He’s floored. Goes down, gets his kiss, comes up.

Price has watched Soap do more pushups than he ever has outside of a punishment when he was in basic training. Johnny has half the mind to let himself drop, smoother you in sweaty hugs and kisses. But he doesn’t. Not until he’s shown off. It’s embarrassing how much sweat is dripping from him though. He’ll just say you both need a shower.

Ghost

Totally doesn't flex when he hugs you.

Oh you think he does?

If you ask him, you’re wrong. Simon is the most casual of them all.

He’ll just randomly pick you up.

Like throw you over his shoulder, hold you like a koala, bridal style, you name it. Unlike Price, who is more careful about it, Simon has been doing exercises to work on his balance so he can safely carry you down a flight on stairs.

If he catches you staring, its over for him. He’s blushing under his lil mask, acting like he doesnt see you.

If you walk up and open your mouth to talk to him, he’s not listening to a word of that blabbery. He’s focused on the way you watch his legs while he’s in the leg press. How if he flexes a bit more you have the pause so you don’t choke on your words.

If you’re the bold on and you get down to the level of his head because he can’t easily escape this machine right now to say something. I'm thinking like a “Simon, I’m going to need a thigh riding session at 1800 hours. Put that on your damn schedule.” And just walk out. Don’t elaborate.

He’s struggling to get out of the machine, considering chasing after you, possibly having a stroke over it. He’s so flustered he’s down right gasping for air. If he didn’t have shit to do today he’d scoop you up and show you want all these muscles could do just to get you to feel like how flustered he is.

Konig

(see the fic about his wife seeing him lift, its on my masterlist (its pinned))

Gaz

By the time you’ve started dating, you know Gaz is jacked. Just look at him ffs. Anyone could see it.

So you do the only reasonable thing and insist on being his gym partner.

And in turn he will insist on spotting your squats.

If you get so nervous you fail a set his plan springs into action. Bro has it lifted in one hand. He doesn't care if it's a lot. He WILL be lifting it in one hand just so you can see how strong he is.

“Kiss for your savor?” He asks.

“Sure.” You reply, pecking his lips.

But no no no.

“Love, I meant you’re actual savor.” He’d say, flexing that one arm and pointing to it.

Just roll your eyes and do it. It’s easier.

He is GLOWING for the rest of the day. He will now take any and all opportunities to lift heavy things for you.

That big box? Lifted. Come kiss his muscles. Cuz if you don’t he's picking you up and putting you in air jail for being ungrateful.

I feel like because Gaz is so lean its kinda a sleeper build situation? Could be completely using that term wrong but IDC.

Lowkey loves nothing more than you feeling up his abs under his shirt when yall are going to bed. Like your hands feel so nice on them when he’s flexing extra hard so they’re rock solid for you.

First time yall cuddled he almost passed out because he was trying to keep his muscles flexed for so long.

Edit: here’s Keegan

Keegan

Keegan was always walking around the house in the sluttiest tank tops and the lowest waist line sweatpants you’ve ever seen.

He had been showing off since he first met you, so I’ll tell you how it happened.

What did he wear on your first date? Tight ass t shirt and a leather jacket with black jeans.

He essentially was giving a strip show when he slowly took off that jacket, made sure you were watching when he did it with a smug look.

“What wrong, doll? Distracted?” He was definitely flexing hard. Pecs and biceps on full display and don't get me started on how he was clenching to get his abs to show through.

He made sure to get real close to.

Oh dear is that a dirty puddle, let him just… yk… casually pick you up to carry you over the smallest puddle ever.

And when he’s at the gym? You are getting tons of selfies. Those videos of him curling weights that are slightly too heavy all because he knows you like the sound of the groans he makes as he struggles to lift it. Oh he is hip thrusting your weight and a half, so you know you’ll never be too heavy. There’s a video he sent that was 10+ minutes of just him thrusting your weight. You honestly thought it was looped.

Oh and he carries your weight when he runs on the treadmill so he knows he and run and keep you safe if need be.

Here’s Krueger (i got carried away, enjoy)

Krueger:

Sebstian knows he’s already strong.

Picking you up and benching you is his favorite hobby. The way you can't help but giggle and he has to scold you to stop wiggling.

He’s always throw around his weight with you. He knows he’s a big. He loves to lay on you to stop you from moving.

Loves to have you lay on his torso with the weight at his hips as he works on his hip thrusts. Got kicked out of a gym because it was dangerous so he got weights to do it at home. Will do it shirtless so you can trace his tattoos.

Definitely has never told you he committed murder because he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like he’s your savior as you rub his sore muscles.

God he loves having you rub his muscles, he just tries not to drool as you rub his calves and biceps with all the force your hands can muster to gently rub the knots away. One time he felt so good he almost cried as you rubbed one out of the back of his neck, he got so bricked he couldnt help it he felt like he was gasping for air the pleasure was so intense.

He’d never tell you that tho, no he’d rather die and speak up and tell you how good it feels when your massage his muscles while planting small kisses after every knot you work out. Definitely going to keep asking you to work his aches away… wonder if he can convince you he has a knot in his dick, no no wouldn’t do that to you not yet.

[bamfkeeper]

NSFW Alphabet: Sabretooth

a/n: I know this is more a Nightcrawler focused blog, but I will still write a few other X-men characters just because. And since I did a SFW of Sabretooth, I wanted to do a NSFW one too. So here he is, in all his bloody glory. I was a little more vulgar in this one than in the Nightcrawler one, but it fit for this character. As mentioned in previous posts, I try to mix multiple depictions of the character so it's not just based on a single one. So I take inspiration from comics, shows, and films. I might revamp this later. I hope you enjoy <3

Minors DNI. 18+ below the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Sabretooth doesn't exactly get the whole aftercare thing, I mean, he isn't really known for his gentle nature.

When you first get together and fool around, he probably is the type to fuck and leave, or make you leave. He's blunt; he straight up tells you when you're done to get out or he will leave your space. He treats sex almost like an animal, one purpose: to fuck and then he will go on his merry way.

However if you continue your little relationship, then he might slowly start to understand what to do. He isn't typical by any means. You will be left with claw marks and bites, and you will bleed. It's unavoidable, those claws and teeth? Come on.

He wouldn't treat them normally, but he would lick them, his saliva has an antiseptic aspect to it, so he is 'cleaning' your wounds that he left but in his own way. It might feel weird, but just let him do his thing. That's probably the closest he will get to being gentle anyway. If they are deep enough he might tend a little more but honestly he feels like he does enough by cleaning them with his tongue.

Sabretooth is also generally pretty happy with himself after sex. He would be calmed down a bit from his norm, because he satisfied something primal in his nature. This might be one of the only times you can convince him to lay still for a period of time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Sabretooth obviously loves his own claws, his weapon of choice on enemies and on you. He loves making you shiver when he drags them down your body with just enough pressure to make you squirm.

But he also has a big ego, so...he is pretty proud of his size.

He'd like your thighs and ass, kneading them like a cat and pawing at you every chance he got. He grabs your legs and loves how soft you feel, and he likes smacking your backside and watching his hips drill into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Prepare for a lot of it. He is messy and doesn't give a shit about what kind of mess he makes. Inside, outside, doesn't matter to him. He likes to spread it around your face if he shoots his load onto you, or likes watching you open your mouth and show him what mess he made on your tongue.

Can't hate a good creampie either, he loves filling you up. It fulfills that need that burns in his groin every time you have sex. Every instinct screams at him to bury his cock against your cervix and blow his load directly into your womb.

Or he tries to push as far in your ass as he can, listening to you moan as he fills you up, the head of his dick brushing your g-spot perfectly.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

He doesn't really have any secrets, he's fairly open about what he likes. But he does have a strong desire towards scents. He doesn't like super perfumed body wash or soaps, he likes the natural smell of things, so he would prefer non-scented soaps rather than the ones that smell sweet or strong.

He likes smelling your groin a lot, especially in the mornings when the scent is the strongest naturally. You always wake up and feel him tugging your legs open so he can smell you. It does typically lead to other things...

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He absolutely knows what he's doing. He's had plenty of partners in the past, so he knows just what to do in the bedroom.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Doggy feels most natural for him. He likes mounting you from behind and he can get a good grip on you when he's pounding into you. He also likes to bite on the back of your neck or your shoulder. Plus he always has a good view before he puts his dick on you.

Sometimes you ride him, gravity helps pull you down on his cock. But you don't get to ride him too often because he doesn't like being on his back for very long. He only has so much self control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He'll make jokes every now and then, but it's all with the dirty talk he gives you. It's all very intense, and he will tease you a lot.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He's a burly, hairy dude. So you can imagine how he looks down there, pretty untamed, not like that really matters. He doesn't see the point to shaving himself, unless you really, really wanted him to, he probably wouldn't ever do it on his own.

He has a hairy happy trail from his belly button that leads down to his pubic hair. His chest is hairy too, and you like to play with it and curl it around your fingers sometimes, which makes him roll his eyes but you do it anyway.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Sabretooth isn't romantic, he's more of a...let's fuck type of guy. His idea of romance is giving you a real, bloody heart torn straight out of an animal or person. And kissing you if he's all messy with blood from a hunt.

If you accept a lot of his habits, he might adapt and try to do something more typically romantic for you in return, or something that you'd see as romantic, whatever that may be. But don't expect him to completely change who he is to be a super romantic guy. And don't ever tell anyone if he does something like that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He probably doesn't masturbate a whole lot, he might when he's feeling real pent up, but why would he masturbate when he has you to take care of all his needs?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Sabretooth is pretty damn kinky, he isn't ashamed about any of his sexual desires and is open with you about them.

He obviously loves predator/prey dynamics, he likes to pretend to hunt you in the woods and when he catches you, he fucks you into the mossy ground. It gets his instincts going and he feels like his cock is on fire when he's hunting you. Plus the sex that comes from 'hunting' you is honestly some of the best you've had. Prey pet names for sure.

Breeding is a huge kink for him. He likes making a mess, but he prefers to bury himself into you and fill you up, regardless if you can get pregnant or not. He will pound multiple loads into you and won't stop until you are squirting it out around his cock.

BDSM is something that's interesting to him, though not every aspect of it. He's a pretty big sadist, so his claws and teeth will definitely mark you up all bloody and you'll be bruised from his hard grip on you thanks to his strength. He'd probably be into impact play, so he'd like to spank you while he's fucking you.

I think he might find bondage fun just because you'd be completely helpless and it can tie into the whole predator/prey play too. Like a little bunny caught in a snare and he stumbles upon you, helpless to the hungry big cat.

I think he probably would have a thing for housewife type of behavior, things that aren't inherently sexual but can turn him on. So cleaning and cooking, bringing him beer or food while he sits back, I don't know I just have a weird feeling he would be into that.

I also think he'd be interested in CNC. It's something that you'd have to talk heavily about, but I think it would be something he would want to try.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He's down to do it anywhere. He doesn't give a shit who hears or sees. But the bedroom is where you two can really let loose. He also likes doing it in the woods, he has a few spots he will take you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Being submissive around him or showing submissive behavior will catch his attention. The primal part of him picks up on all of that, so speaking to him without eye contact, or when he approaches slightly lowering your head are things he instantly picks up on.

I also think if you make yourself vulnerable on purpose around him, he'd definitely like that. If you display your belly or neck, like laying down or seeming careless if he gets close are things he would eye closely, since most of the people around him (human or mutant) tend to be extremely cautious.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Sabretooth wouldn't really be interested in 'making love.' He's a primal mutant. He would want to give in to all of his desires, and he would want whomever he's sleeping with to do the same.

I don't think he would be into someone who challenges his dominance either. He'd take it as an insult and it would trigger his aggression. I don't see him as being a bottom at all, but that's just my opinion. So he wouldn't have any desire to take that position.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He's going to be pretty selfish, and he absolutely prefers receiving. He loves looking down and seeing you try to take him all in your mouth. It turns him on more knowing you're trying your best but still can't fit all of him. He will tease you and talk dirty the entire time.

"Awe, what's the matter...am I too big for you? Can't fit all of me in that pretty mouth? Don't worry...I'll make it fit."

Prepare for a deepthroat and possible face fuck because he gets a little carried away.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Rough, fast, unforgiving. He might allow you a moment to adjust when he first penetrates you, but he hardly waits long. There is nothing stopping him from going full on wild mode.

He likes to watch you squirm as he pushes deeper and deeper, watching your little hole stretch around him as you whine. He swears he could cum just from listening to you and watching you struggle to fit him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He can actually cum pretty quick when he knows you're only going to get a few minutes to fuck, so he's down for a quickie, pretty much wherever.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Absolutely. He loves to experiment, especially if he discovers something he hasn't tried before, he'd want to try it out once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

He has enhanced stamina because of his mutation so...he can go for multiple rounds. His period to recover is practically nonexistent, thanks to that mutation.

He can also last a few minutes to much longer. It just depends, but he does prefer multiple rather than dragging out a single long orgasm.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He does not have any toys of his own, other than maybe a few BDSM items like rope or impact things. He doesn't care if his partner has any. In his mind, the toys couldn't compare to him so he could care less.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

A lot. Sabretooth is the king of teasing. He can be somewhat selfish, he will deny your orgasm just so when he finally allows you to cum, it feels like a huge wave washing over you rather than just a little jolt of pleasure. He will bring you up to the brink, but never push you over until he's ready for that to happen.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Sabretooth is loud, when he isn't dirty talking you, he is grunting, groaning, snarling. He makes animalistic noises rather than moaning or whining. He knows you like hearing him, so he will lean down and make those noises against your ear, while telling you how good you feel wrapped around his dick.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

He purrs after he orgasms, he takes a moment to catch his breath and he will purr against you, but he catches himself before he does it for too long and acts like he wasn't.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Sabretooth is a BIG dude. So, obviously his dick is gonna be big. He's definitely a shower, but he grows a bit when erect.

Flaccid, his bulge is already big, so it can look intimidating before you even get his pants off. His ego always flares up when he sees how you look at his crotch.

Erect he looks near impossible to put into you, but somehow he fits. He's anywhere between 7.5-9 inches. He is girthy too, which is really what you feel when he fucks you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

He has a high sex drive, he can fuck anytime, anywhere. He gets horny from hunting, killing, fighting, all of his instincts flare up and it triggers all of the good feelings in his brain.

Sabretooth would want to fuck a lot, he could do it multiple times a day if possible.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Instantly, he likes to chill out after he has sex. A beer or cigar, then he knocks out. He doesn't bother to shower half the time, so he just likes to kick back and relax.

He might take a shower upon request, but he will complain and grumble about it.

If you like to shower after sex, he would let you go on your own while he has his beer or cigar. He's large, so you and him in the shower together would be awkward and cramped, plus he likes to have a few minutes of space afterwards.

If you are wounded, aka clawed up, he will watch you while you sleep for a bit and then he will fall asleep.

His bed is very soft, it's adorned with furs, pelts, and a thin quilt as the comforter, so you tend to fall asleep after cleaning up.

If you lay on him after, he will run his claws along your back lazily, making you shiver. Knowing those claws to maim and mutilate, but they only graze your skin. It's a strangely gentle gesture that you never reject. He does this until he falls asleep.

Thanks for reading. <3

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover picture cropped from X-Men Origins Sabretooth #1 (2009)

[revasserium]

could we get a protective zoro pretty please! maybe reader gets kidnapped again and zoro comes to find her but we get the actual fighting and zoro being protective? i’ll take anything you write <3

here are monsters

zoro; 1,737 words; fluff, opla!zoro, shockingly introspective zoro, straw hat!reader, fem!reader, vague gore (but not rly even), just zoro slicin' ppl, established relationship

summary: prequel to this fic right here

a/n: *makes vague uncertain hand gestures at opla!zoro*

he’s always known of the monster inside him — always. he’s always known of the hurricane that spins just beneath the cage of his ribs, the thunderstorm brewing beyond the horizon-line of his heartbeat.

when he sees you bloodied, bruises blooming at the edge of your mouth, something inside him snaps like a tideline, ripped apart by the rage of the ocean slamming against the back of his teeth. there’s a jagged bloodlust curdling in his throat as he narrows his eyes, pulls out his swords and swings.

the shing of metal through air shouldn’t sound like music, the dull thunk of bodies hitting the ground, no baseline beat — the bitten-off screams of men as their throats are cut should not sound like the familiar tune to a life-long melody but zoro can’t help the grin that spreads, savage, across his lips as he leans into the rhythm of the fight and lets his body sing.

it would not be remiss to call him monster, so he thinks as he digs the hilt of his swords into the side of an oncoming thug and hears the sharp crack of shattering ribs. he doesn’t wince at the warm splatter of blood as it paints his cheeks. a wide, manic smile pulls at his lips as he swings both swords around in a wide circle to slice through three oncoming bodies, before bringing them down in an arc to bisect another thug from torso to legs.

by the time he turns back around, most of the so-called pirates have already scattered, but one (the leader of the whole sorry lot) still stands, a blade pressed to the smooth expanse of your throat as he snarls, backing away from zoro, nose twitching like a frightened rabbit.

“d-don’t come any closer! or — or else i’ll slit her throat!”

zoro’s lip twitches, his eyes hardening as he stares at the shaking heap of leathers and furs, too much talk and not enough backbone. it’s people like this, zoro thinks, that give pirates a bad rep.

“i’d like to see you try,” zoro’s voice is iron-hard and steel-sharp, a dull throbbing cresting through his temples at the thought of any more harm coming to you even as he catches your eyes. they’re wide and dark and pleading.

don’t do anything stupid.

he almost scoffs. too late.

and then, almost by second nature, the thought comes to him — well, you started it.

the corner of his eye twitches as he sighs, making a show of relaxing his stance, of standing up straight to slip his swords back into their sheathes. he watches as the last thug visibly relaxes — licking his lips as his own grip on your neck loosens.

“t-there see? that wasn’t so hard, was it? n-now — now hand over all the gold you have and i might —”

thwack.

you feel the man’s grip on you slacken completely as you glance up to find the wadou ichimonji impaled through the thug’s head, right in between his eyes, the blade and hilt still vibrating from the force of the hit, nailing the man to the basement wall. you let out a sigh as you jerk yourself out from underneath the dead man’s arms, making a face as zoro reaches down to pull his sword out with a wet schluck.

“tch. just cleaned it yesterday.”

it makes a soft whoomph as he shakes off the worst of the blood dripping from it’s blade.

“sorry… i’ll — i’ll clean it after we get back —” you push yourself to your feet, dusting of your skirt, but a sharp pain in your side makes you stumble, and a second later, zoro’s arm hooks around your middle to keep you from falling.

the metallic tang of blood and the cold scent of steel arrests your senses. the world spins, the floor beneath you swaying like the deck of a ship even as darkness starts to eat at the edges of your vision. you hear zoro calling your name as if through a long, echoing tunnel and you frown, uncertain why he sounds so frantic all of a sudden.

“don’t… don’t forget… the apples…”

zoro stares, aghast as you go limp in his arms. there’s a wild thundering inside his chest as he looks around, his mind racing to catch up to what you’d just said — apples? what the —

he spots them, discarded in a corner by the entrance of the basement hideout — a rough burlap satchel sagging against the wall, filled with waxy red apples, round as the autumn moon and nearly just as big. he stares at them for a full minute before his eyes slowly slide back to you, still lying inert in his arms, though your breathing has evened out and your cheeks are flushed just the slightest shade of pink.

you’re in no immediate danger, he knows, but there’s an unpleasant darkness seeping into the material of your shirt along your ribs and the thing in his chest stutters, the strange pressure threatening to calcify into something very much like panic.

so he takes a deep breath, because master swordsmen don’t panic. those of a calm mind… or what the fuck ever.

he takes another breath and hoists you onto his shoulder, wrapping his arm around the backs of your thighs as he stands up and makes for the exit, reaching down to snag the bag of apples, grimacing as he hooks them onto his free shoulder. they’re heavier than he’d expected.

he’s halfway to the docks before you start to stir and he slows his pace ever so slightly, careful not to dig his shoulder into your still-open wound.

“have a good nap?”

you groan, and he almost grins as he feels you trying to wiggle out of his grasp. he doesn’t break his stride even as he adjusts you on his shoulder and keeps on walking.

“l-let me down — i can walk —”

“nope. don’t feel like it.”

“i’m sorry, okay?”

you sigh, the tension once again leaving your body and for a second zoro worries that you’d passed out again, but the next second, he feels your fists thumping lightly against his waist.

“hm. don’t remember asking you to apologize.”

but he does slow his step. he steps onto the bustling boardwalk, ignoring the strange, lingering looks of passersby as he hauls you bodily towards where the going merry is docked.

“doesn’t mean i shouldn’t.”

he pauses then, bending down slightly to let you slip from his shoulders, keeping his arm wrapped around you even as you slide down the length of his torso to land on your feet. your palms are pressed to his chest as you look up at him, and for a moment, as zoro searches the depths of your eyes, he isn’t sure if he wants to kiss you for being alright or scream at you for putting yourself in danger in the first place.

like this, he can feel all of you pressing against all of him, and the thing inside his chest still feels like something of a monster but at least it’s no longer tearing him apart from the inside out. it beats, uncoordinated, against his sternum, thumping up till he can feel it at the base of his throat.

he lets himself look at you, lets his eyes roam the planes of your face, lingering on the bruise kissing the corner of your mouth. he licks his lips and looks away.

“what the hell were you doing buying so many apples anyway?”

at this, you purse your lips, your lashes fluttering hummingbird quick as you look away.

“uhm… i — i can’t tell you.”

zoro rolls his eyes as he bends down, and in one swift motion, tosses you back over his shoulder. you yelp in surprise as he starts to make his way towards the ship again, seemingly deaf to your protests as you kick our your legs and thump your fists against his back.

“really, warn me, the next time you plan on getting kidnapped for ransom, would’ya?”

but he can’t help the slight smile that twitches at the edge of his lips even as he carries you onto the merry’s deck, kicking open the kitchen door to set you on the long wooden prep table.

because you’re still here, warm and breathing beside him, a bit banged up and bloodied, sure, but alive nonetheless. he’d gotten to you in time.

the creature inside his chest purrs in contentment even as he schools his expression back into a suitable scowl as you pout at him from the kitchen table, saying something about not planning on getting kidnapped, and he quips back something about all this being a bad idea from get.

he allows himself a secret, relieved sigh as he starts to rummage around for the first aid kit he knows is there somewhere, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of your summer sun laughter, watching as you wince and clutch at your wounded side.

how’s he to tell you that with you, the monster inside him starts to feel like much less monster and much more man? and that the day he met you, he stopped thinking of himself as a natural disaster -- only that he might be naturally a disaster sometimes, but something else in all the moments in between.

so he settles for dressing your wounds instead, pressing his palm to the soft expanse of your skin, holding still the shivers that threaten to shake him to his very bones when his fingertips graze against the ridges of your ribs, his other hand resting on the soft plush of your hip.

he settles for kissing you quiet when you start to ramble, because he can’t let himself think of the other things he might want to do to you if you’d let him. he settles, as the monster in him settles as well.

because with you, he knows he is both monster and man, and he knows — judging by the way you smile at him as he pulls back from your kiss — that you wouldn’t have him any other way.

opla!zoro reqs open!

[nina-renmen]

You’re Mine

Yandere Price x black reader soulmate au pt. 1

Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Y/n joins team 141 in her early/mid twenties. But upon figuring out her captain is her soulmate she attempts to avoid him, little does she know she’s already caught prices eye. And soulmate or not he will have her.

Price’s eyebrows narrowed. His gaze locked onto your file. Name: y/n l/n, code name: Cobra.

Price huffed, What did you do to get a name like that? You didn’t look very threatening from your picture. At first glance Price tossed your file to the side. But Laswell insisted, saying you were her best soldier. ‘Ah….thats why.’ Price thought to himself. You were known for strangling your own squad when they attempted to leak information to the Russians, hence the name Cobra. (Cobras are cannibals, they kill their own kind)

You enrolled in the army at 19 and became a Sergent just last year. You excelled in hand to hand combat and were a sniper, not bad. It seemed you’re the best with stealth missions. You could have done a million other things but you chose this…why? Whatever it was, price didn’t dwell on it. Closing your file his thumb ran across the text that was imprinted on his forearm. The bold black text that his eyes had read over hundreds of thousands of times still gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

‘You should smile more…it’s cute.’

He always wondered what setting it would be in. What would he say after? He wondered what you’d look like. Would you be older? Younger? Or maybe the same age.

A knock at the door interrupted him from his thoughts. The door opening before he could say anything meaning that it was Laswell. And sure enough, it was.

Price looked up from his desk. A nod coming from him as a greeting. The older woman placing a file on his desk. “There’s another mission. Cobra will join you at the sight.” Kate spoke as Price stood up with a nod as he looked through the information.

“I’ll tell the team.”

The helicopter was loud, but you’d gotten used to it enough to block it out. Standing up, y/n rolled her shoulder, relieving herself of the tension. As she grabbed her weapon y/n left the helicopter after giving the pilot a pat on the shoulder as a quick ‘thanks’.

Y/n only recognized one of the men that were in a small group in front of her. Soap.

The man’s eyes seem to light up at the sight of her. He gave her a strong pat on the back as he welcomed her. “Aye lass, didn’t think you’d get here so quickly!” Soap exclaimed with a grin to which y/n only nodded. Johnny was well aware that y/n wasn’t much of a talker, she preferred to keep quiet.

Price’s gaze lingered on her for a few seconds. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, her expression was blank but her hold on her weapon was tight. She must not like new changes.

Price went over the plan once more. It was supposed to be a quick mission. In and out.

But unfortunately it was the exact opposite. The mission itself took about two hours to complete. Y/n was soaked in blood afterwards. She shifted almost uncomfortably in her gear.

“Good job. You did well.” Price spoke as he came up behind y/n, patting her back. “Proud of ya, Sweetheart”

Y/n’s eyes widened, she was facing soap at the time. The words on her lower abdomen burned, fully setting into her skin. Soap knew that look, he’d spent three years training with y/n before they got separated into different teams.

Y/n only nodded, turning away as she began walking towards the helicopter. Soap immediately following after her trail. “What the hell was that look?” Soap whispered shouted as they both stepped into the helicopter.

“He said it….” Y/n mumbled as she sat down. She looked over at soap, disturbed. “You’re not saying he’s.” Soap trailed off as y/n nodded. “Bloody hell lass….” Soap grunted, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know-now shut up. They’re coming.” Y/n said through clenched teeth. They both sat still, acting normal. Y/n’s leg bouncing as her upper body sat still in the seat. Ghost and Gaz sat across from her while Price began to talk with he pilot.

Soap leaned over to her. Whispering, “You need to tell him-“

“Like hell I will.” Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyebrows furrowed. A deep frown carved on her face.

“What are you two squabbling about?” Price asked, cutting the both of you off. Y/n stayed quiet, turning her head away from the captain leaving Soap to speak up. “Nothin sir.” Soap piped up.

“Not much of a talker?” Price’s gaze was locked onto you.

“She has anxiety!” Soap exclaimed louder than he should have drawing attention of the other two men. “Y-yeah….she’s anxious around new people. Isn’t that right lass?” Soap elbowed Y/n making her nod slowly. Soap paled a bit when y/n glared at him.

��Alright…..if you say so.” Price said, eyeing up Y/n almost suspiciously before leaning back into his seat ‘At least they’re getting along.’

Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[toecrust69]

Can i request a gn!reader who’s been trained to be a weapon most of their life so they’re not really good with feelings? They’ve been adopted by the batfamily and they get hurt on a mission, they hide and stuff but dick or Jason (maybe both?) finds out, and like kinda scold them for not saying anything and ask why they would keep this a secret. The reader replies something ‘I just didn’t think it was a big deal’ IT WAS A BIG DEAL. So it’s just fluff and angst😇. You can end it with them having a movie night after patching reader up to feel better? You can change somethings up if it crosses your boundaries! <3

Hurt

Warnings: mild mentions of violence and wounds, cussing, mentions of past trauma, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of an old abusive home, bad writing, animal abuse. Please let me know if I miss anything

A/n: Hello and tysm for requesting!! I just wanted to let you know that if you are in an abusive relationship or family, you are not alone. If you are sensitive to content like this, please leave (respectfully ofc)

Enjoy!!

You pressed yourself up against the rough alley wall, clutching your side in pure pain as tears threatened to fall down your face.

You squinted your eyes shut and gritted your teeth to hold back a grutal scream of pain and slid down the wall.

You were just out on patrol, as usual, when you heard various voices, laughter, and whines from the very same alley you layed in now; soaked in your own blood.

Without a second thought, you dove down into the alleyway. You immediately realized what was going on.

There were five men surrounding what seemed to be a puppy with various wounds.

You frowned. Damian would not have been happy if he saw this.

The men turned to look at you and you could tell some of them were panicked while the rest simply smirked and stared you down.

A large fight ensued between you and three of the men while the other two stood by and watched while also making sure the puppy wouldn't escape.

You took note of this and kicked down one of the men I the direction of the other two, causing him to stumble back, bringing the two with him.

The puppy escaped but you couldn't.

Soon they were all fighting you, and it was a bit too much for you to handle.

They kicked you over and over on your sides, punched you, spat at you, and even stabbed you.

You barely won the fight, and now you stared down at their bloody, unconscious bodies in pure hatred.

You couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed and upset with yourself.

Since the moment you were born, you were trained to be a weapon similar to Damian.

You absolutely hated it and you were more than happy when Bruce took you in, but you still felt ashamed any time you were beat in a fight.

You remember how your parents used to severely punish you any time you'd fail a mission or training.

They never held back when it came to your punishments. Even when you were a toddler.

They'd punch and kick you just like the men had and you fucking hated it.

You hated how it brought you back to those dark memories and you hated how it reminded you that you'd never fully recover from it.

Your new family always tried to convince you that'd things were different now; that you were safe.

You'd always try to believe them but there was always that lingering feeling that you were never good enough.

There was always a tiny little voice that screamed and yelled at you about how useless, weak, and annoying you were.

There was always that little voice that told you how much of a burden you were to your new and old family.

But that wasn't the problem right now.

The problem right now was how you'd get back to the batcave/manor without getting caught and interrogated by Bruce or any one of your other family members.

You scouted out for an idea in your head when you finally got one.

Damian, Bruce, and Tim were still out on patrol and Jason and Dick weren't even in the city.

So all you had to do was walk in through the front door with your spare key and pray that Alfred wasn't going to see you.

'Perfect ', you thought.

You searched for your keys in your pocket until you finally got them.

Bruce gave it to you the first time you arrived a couple months ago, claiming that it'd help keep you safe.

You never really understood what he meant but you didn't really mind.

You sloppily fit the key into the whole and twisted it until you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking.

You cracked the door open and peeked in to see if anybody was around, and thankfully, there wasn't.

You fully pushed the door in and stepped in.

Closing the door behind you, you propelled yourself towards the grand stairs.

You immediately froze in your tracks when you heard two muffled voices coming closer towards your direction.

Who could that be? Nobody except aflred was home and these were two voices.

'Was it an intruder? ' You thought and immediately got into your fighting stance, fists up, ready to fight.

The voices inched closer and closer when you realized they sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

You held your stance when the owners of the voice stepped into your field of vision.

'Fuck! ' You immediately began panicking when you realized who it was. Dick and Jason.

They were about to ask you a question when you beat them to it. "What the fuck are you doing here!?".

"We should be asking you that" Jason retorted and you rolled your eyes.

You went back to your normal stance, trying to ignore the painful sting in your feet and arms.

Dick ignored Jason and turned you, signaling you to answer first.

You sighed in annoyance and began explaining your lie you made up on the way here. "I forgot my batarangs and came back here to get them".

They both gummed and not-so-subtly glanced at one another, clearly looking through your plain lie.

"Your lying," Jason stated plainly, "Tell us the truth"

But you completely ignored and asked once again; "now what are you two doing here?".

They frowned.

"If we tell you, will you tell us the truth?" Dick asked and you thought for a second.

You were already in too deep— there was no coming back.

So, you reluctantly nodded your head in agreement.

"Bruce called us in for an emergency meeting." Jason said plainly. "There. Now tell us the truth".

You hung your head low and noticed how your hands seemed to have had a seizure from all the shaking it was doing.

You felt as if they'd yell and punish your if you told them the truth. You knew that wasn't the case; you knew they weren't like that, but you couldn't help it.

Tears threatened to come falling down when you thought of another lie. Hopefully theyd believe you this time.

"I felt a bit tired and decided to come back early." You said a bit too quickly. "Goodnight" you murmered before rushing up the stairs and to your room.

They called after you to come back but you only ignored them and sped up.

Excruciating pain shot through your body with every step you took, but you couldn't care less.

Your hand barely touched the door handle when another one put a hand over yours, stopping you from opening the door anymore.

You looked up and saw Jason, jaw clenched as he stared into your soul.

Feeling a small bit of pressure on your shoulder, you looked and saw yet another big, rough hand rested upon your shoulder. Dick.

You shrinked the longer they stared at you until one of them spoke.

"What happened" Jason asked once again, voice as cold as his stare. Actually, he wasn't even asking, he was demanding.

You gulped and your eyes darted around the room but was quickly interrupted by another deep voice.

"Answer the question" Dick said coldly and you knew that there was no going back now.

You let go of the handle with a shaky breath and turned to face the two of them. Their arms were crossed as they stared down at you and you swore you felt tiny little bugs crawling up and down your entire body.

"D-do you promise not to be mad?" You asked in a small, shaky voice.

They were a bit taken back for a second but quickly recovered; hoping you didn't see their faces.

"Of course not" Dick reassured.

You still felt a bit uneasy about telling them what actually happened but you knew they'd never actually judge you.

"I was attacked by 5 men during patrol. I was trying to fight them off but I wad too weak," tears were now falling out your eyes and down your face. "I'm sorry" your voice was small like a mouse at the end.

Their icey gazes immediately warmed up as they began trying to reassure you.

"It's okay, there's no need to apologize" dick said as he brought his hands up to wipe your tears away with the pads of his thumb.

He held your face between both his hands and you couldn't help but lean into the unfamiliar touch.

"Are you hurt?" Jason asked

"Yeah... just a bit".

"Why did you tell us?" Jason asked in what seemed to be a hurt voice.

"I didn't think it was a big deal" you admitted sheepishly and dug your face more into Dicks hands as if trying to hide from your emberasment.

The truth was the complete opposite.

You knew it was a big deal but you didn't want to bother or burden anybody— especially not your brothers— with your wounds.

It was fucking painful but you thought you could patch yourself up.

You didn't need any help, right?

Right.

They were completely and utterly shocked— what do you mean no big deal!? This was a huge deal to them.

"What do you mean 'no big deal'!?" Jason asked, almost mockingly.

Dick scowled and sent him a glare, signaling at him to shut up.

A huge wave of guilt washed over Jason, but he didn't show it. "Sorry" he mumbled sheepishly.

"C'mon, let's take you to the medical room" he whispered into your ear as he lead you down the stairs and towards the batcave.

They placed you onto the small bed and in the bright florescent light, they could tell your injuries were definitely more than a big deal.

Blood covered your mask and suit. They could tell your leg especially hurt considering most of the blood came from there and your abdomen.

They didn't even understand how you even managed to walk— let alone up the stairs.

"Get me the med-kit" Jason demanded, pointing at Dick then the nearby meditation.

He was back in a flash with the med-kit and set it down beside you.

Jason opened it immediately and pulled out all the materials he needed.

Jason was always better when it came to patching up wounds compared to Dick. It was mostly because Jason got more hurt than Dick did during patrol, even though he'd never admit it.

His hands were fast but gentle as he began patching you up.

You had a high pain tolerance, so it only stang when he pressed the alcohol against your wounds.

Once he was finally done, he put away all the materials and turned to face you along with Dick.

You had since stopped crying and began pushing yourself off of the bed, standing up to your full length.

"Thank you" you mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear.

They nodded and you began making your way towards the door when the stopped you.

"Hey" Dick said and you turned to look at him. You signaled for him to continue and he did, "you're not alone. You can always reach out to me or anybody else for help, okay?"

You nodded your head in agreement and they both smiled.

"Good."

.

I'm not really happy with this one but oh well, I hope at least you enjoyed

-toes<3

[rendezvouz-fling]

Astro Observations #13

• Gemini/Aquarius/Libra placements might be into 70s/80s music and might be very drawn to the “Minneapolis Sound”. E.g. Prince, Sheila E, Ready for the world, Vanity/Apollonia 6, André Cymone, The Time, Dez Dickerson, etc…

• Water suns with Air placements tend to have sweet and sometime sultry singing voices that sound similar to Bunny DeBarge, Syreeta, Patrice Rushen, etc… They literally give me ‘I love every little thing about you’ by Syreeta vibes!!✨💗

• Most big famous singing families tend to have Water placements in their big 3/6!!

• People with Earth placements in their Singer persona chart tend to develop their singing styles a little more slowly than others but it also gives them more time to experiment with their voice and therefore be really great singers!!💜

• Taurus placements love cooking for their loved ones and they turn out to be really great cooks where as some Virgo placements especially Suns aren’t that great at cooking.

• Air moons with Air risings need to stop ghosting their friends because they’ll literally become addicted.🤧

• Air moons can be very much “Hollier than thou” type people without literally saying it. They just give off those vibes especially when they’re around Fire moons.✋🏽🌚

• Leo suns with Gemini moons and Leo mercuries are such big gossips!!! They’re also very bold, loud, sometimes caring and very funny people!!

• Air/Earth mixes in the big 3 are so ethereal??💗

• Let a Sagittarius moon/stellium go on about their days and don’t cling onto them and they’ll love you forever!!

• Libra Jupiters tend to have a lot of Leo Jupiter besties!💕

• Virgo moons and dropping their subject then asking the person about it again at least 100 times.💀

• Virgo moons with Water placements will literally wanna apologize all the time if they feel like they’ve upset you and that sinks my heart.🥺

• Taurus moons will literally have so much patience with their loved ones!🤎

• Taurus placements prefer gummies over chocolates.

• As impulsive as people may think Sagittarius moons are, they’ll actually let you talk and listen to what you have to say.

• A lot of rockstars tend to have Aquarius, Gemini and Sagittarius in their big 3/6! E.g. Vince Neil (Aqua sun, Gemini rising), Axl Rose (Aquarius sun/mercury/Jupiter/Mars/Saturn), Nikki Sixx (Sagittarius sun/mercury/venus), Tom Keifer (Aquarius sun, Gemini moon) etc…

• Aries/Sagittarius sun kids are those brave kids sit around telling scary stories to scare other kids lmao, they’re also the types to spread a fake rumor about having seen a ghost. Usually the ones you’d find playing Bloody Mary and Charlie Charlie in school.😭

• Virgo sun Virgo moon kids are the momma’s babies!!

• Girls with Air/Fire placements are usually daddy’s girls.

• Some Capricorn sun Pisces moon men tend to look like their mother’s twins!

• Fire suns tend to be goofballs when it’s karaoke night.😂

• Fire mars mothers lose their tempers as a hobby atp. 😭✋🏽

• Pisces suns with Pisces mercuries are such softies!🥺

• Gemini placements 🤝 bouncing their legs, standing up then walking for a few seconds and sitting back down, scratching themselves, pulling their hairs or biting their nails when nervous to the point of habitually doing it.🥲

• Capricorn suns with a Virgo stellium are so sexy?! 🥵 Donna Summer had this placement!😮‍💨

• Gemini risings and Leo risings are the type to bring food with them to a cafe and boldly eat it because ‘they paid for it’.😂

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 3)

Hello lovelies! I'm back with a third installment of my favorite Sterek fic recommendations!

Let me just say again, I am absolutely blown away by how many of you have liked these posts, but I am still so glad you're enjoying them! Thank you all, and without further ado, let's get into it.

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

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On a Chilly Night, Prayed for the Moon by violentcrumbles (E | 1/1 | 1,299)

Derek's hands are bloody, but Stiles' are clean.

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Freckle by starbolin (E | 1/1 | 1,645)

Nobody dies in this story.

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Turn Me On by risacooper (E | 1/1 | 3,021)

The air feels like it’s carrying the music with it, like a girl’s sweet voice is touching him along with the carefully encroaching press of someone’s fingertips at his back.

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I Just Can't Help Myself by breakaway71 (E | 1/1 | 3,187)

"Stiles," the demon says. In his head, her voice sounds soft and sleepy, like she's just woken from a long nap. "I'm bored."

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David Hale, Matchmaker by Menacherie (NR | 1/1 | 3,222)

Chris doesn’t know about the baby. In fact, Laura doesn’t even know until they’re safe in New York with their normal and safe aunt and uncle. Laura doesn’t tell him either. (It’s not until years later, when Derek sees David’s blue eyes staring back at him through Chris Argent, that he has an inkling of who the father is.)

Derek doesn’t say anything, but it’s ironic that Kate Argent burns down the house of her own unborn nephew.

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Legacy by scarletjedi (G | 1/1 | 3,339)

For Campbell men, family was everything.

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all you're giving me is friction by drunktuesdays (M | 1/1 | 4,707)

Stiles is Alpha bait.

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The Pretty Things (are going to hell) by FaeryQueen07 (E | 1/1 | 4,951)

“You have something of mine,” Stiles says, and he reaches for his hood, pushing it back to reveal the rest of his face. Lips curled up in a smile promising pain and eyes like death, he says, “And now I’m going to take it back.”

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nerves more by 1001cranes (E | 1/1 | 5,084)

Stiles only knows the boys are home from college when he sees the Camaro. It's a beautiful car, unusual - Laurent's car, but what's Laurent's is Derek's is Laurent's, rarely ever any distinctions - and Stiles is certain he sees it, idling in the corner of his vision when he talks to Scott, but when he turns around there isn't anything there. [Birthday gift for Saucery]

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the wing wherewith we fly to heaven by vlieger (T | 1/1 | 5,567)

based on this prompt at the kinkmeme: AU in which Stiles' mother had died because of Huntington's Disease.

When Stiles goes to get tested if the disease had been passed down to him, he asks Derek to go with him.

Up to you if the news are good or bad. And I'd love it if Derek and Stiles were pre-relationship.

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Tenfold by PunkPinkPower (G | 1/1 | 5,943)

In the end, it was Allison who made the final push to come home. They had all dropped hints when the war had ended. It was time to settle down and rest, Scott had said offhandedly. They needed a place to raise their pups, Jackson had argued. There weren’t any more great battles to fight, Stiles had insisted. They should honor at least some of their traditions, Lydia had reasoned.

But it was Allison who, one cool night in the Nevada desert, had said, “I think it’s time to go home.”

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More Wolf Than Boy by herlovewasajoke (E | 1/1 | 8,018)

Stiles always tries to protect the ones he loves, but sometimes he's the one who needs protection. (Or, in which Stiles is a werewolf and Derek didn't make him that way.)

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Do You Wanna Date My Avatar? by ChristyCorr (T | 1/1 | 8,904)

In hindsight, maybe introducing the local werewolf contingent to the wonderful world of online gaming hadn't exactly been Stiles' best idea.

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Break the Lock If It Don't Fit by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (E | 1/1 | 12,738)

"Do you know what just happened?" Peter asked, frowning. "Do you know what Derek did?"

"He dislocated my shoulder," Stiles snapped, but Peter just arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by that answer.

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Red Riding Hood series by purplecatsweater (2 works | E | 14,760)

1. Little Red Riding Hood (you sure are looking good) (E | 1/1 | 10,216) Stiles hangs out with werewolves. Stiles dresses up as Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween. It's supposed to be ironic. 2. Claiming Red (E | 1/1 | 4,544) Derek takes Stiles home.

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inside these arms series by rufflefeather (2 works | T | 17,917)

1. About Today (T | 1/1 | 8,901) Stiles is having the worst day of his life and it keeps happening. 2. Until Tomorrow (T | 1/1 | 9,016) Derek's worst nightmares didn't prepare him for this.

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And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi (E | 1/1 | 30,314)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

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(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll (E | 9/9 | 78,759)

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time.

Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.

Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

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Cornerstone by Vendelin (E | 6/6 | 83,738)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

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Home by TheTypewriterGirl (T | 18/18 | 167,178)

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

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[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, semifinals of the losers bracket

Propaganda:

For Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu:

you've got the founder of the fantasy ancient Chinese CIA and the leader of what is essentially the mafia and then they're soulmates and in love. they're both willing to kill anyone who dares hurt the other while also just wanting a soft domestic life together

Zhou Zishu is an assassin and spymaster who put the current Emperor on the throne, and then quit his job by faking his death (kinda, hes still dying but not as fast as he was supposed to). Had done A Lot on his old job, including murdering children (more than one, and at least one of them in a way I can't even describe without several trigger warnings), exterminating whole families, war crimes (and i dont mean this in a buzzword way, i mean "organized a public execution of foreign diplomats during war time")… btw he doesn't feel particularly bad about any of this, because he believes it was necessary. Like he wouldn't do it for fun, but he thinks the ends (putting a good Emperor on the throne) justified the means (all of the atrocities). As a retiree, he definitely cut down on the amount of morally reprehensible murder, but not murder in general. He still routinely kills ppl, he just doesn't go out of his way to kill more. Wen Kexing, meanwhile, is the Ghost Valley Master - Ghost Valley being a place where the worst of criminals are exiled. Even in such a place, he has reputation as a complete lunatic, owed partially to the fact that he either skinned a man or fed him his own flesh or both at one point, and partially to him having a rule where he would kill anyone who came closer than 3 meters to him. But in truth, everything he'd done was to survive the Ghost Valley and eventually take revenge for his parents, who were brutally murdered when he was only nine. By the start of the novel's timeline, he put his plan in motion - the plan that would drown jianghu in blood, but also deliver poetic justice to all responsible for his parents' deaths, as well as all who'd commit the same crime given the chance. And these two men, these two murderers and schemers, meet - and unexpectedly, find in each other the person who /understands/. The person who is just as ruthless and whose hands are just as bloody, but also the person who knows standing at the top of the world is not worth it, who seeks the same freedom of leaving it all behind, and who is still, underneath it all, a human, with human heart seeking connection. So you have this couple who understand each other with barely a word, and who want the same things - who are so hungry for domesticity and for people they can just goof around with when all their lives they had to measure every step and word - but ALSO where one half a couple is like "i gotta go murder hundreds in revenge" and the other half is like "ok pick you up at 6". (This btw is why I'm submitting novel's iteration of the couple in particular. Show wenzhou with their ridiculous breakups over morality could Never.) Also they were both hiding who they are when they first met, and later flirted about having figured each other out. Finally, I'll leave you my favorite quote that just. perfectly sums up their relationship: "And just like that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, steeped in the smell of blood."

You’ve probably already had submissions for them but I’ll add on. One of them founded an assassin’s guild and killed a staggering number of people. His malewife is the leader of a sect of insane murderous outcasts, and he attained his position by proving to be the most crazy and murder happy of them all. Most of the plot involves him wandering around watching his schemes get more people killed. Together they adopt a kid that was only orphaned due to said scheming (oops). They’re terrible and I love them.

For Legolas and Gimli:

They literally have a running competition between the two over who has more kills. And non-canon my ass, Legolas took Gimli to valinor

They kill alot of orcs together. They make it into a competition. Better minds than i have spoken about the couple ness

[jeannereames]

Shows or movies based on historic figures and events are hard to pull off if the goals are to be both entertaining and somewhat true to history. If we accept that some inaccuracies can't be avoided in order to appeal to audiences what would you consider cornerstones and pillars about Alexander and his history that can't/shouldn't be touched in order to paint a somewhat realistic picture in media based on him and his life?

I saved this to answer around the time of the Netflix release. For me, there are four crucial areas, so I’ll break it down that way. Also. I recognize that the LENGTH of a production has somewhat to do with what can be covered.

But, first of all…what story is one telling? The story arc determines where the focus lies. Even documentaries have a story. It’s what provides coherence. Is it a political tale? A military one? Or personal? Also, what interpretation to take, not only for Alexander but those around him. Alexander is hugely controversial. It’s impossible to make everyone happy. So don't try. Pick an audience; aim for that audience.

MILITARY:

Alexander had preternatural tactical skills. His strategy wasn’t as good, however, especially when younger. Tactics can be a genius gift (seeing patterns), but strategy requires experience and knowledge of the opposition. The further into his campaign, the more experience he gained, but the cultures became increasingly unfamiliar. He had ups and downs. He was able to get out of Baktria finally by marrying Roxana. That was strategy, not tactics. He beat Poros, then made a friend of him; that’s strategy. Yet he failed to understand the depth of the commitment to freedom among the autonomous tribes south along the Indus, which resulted in a bloody trek south. And his earlier decision to burn Persepolis meant he’d never fully reconcile the Persian elite.

So, it’s super important to emphasize his crazy-mad tactical gifts in all forms of combat, from pitched battles to skirmishes to sieges. Nobody in history ever equaled him except maybe Subatai, Genghis Khan’s leading general. In the end, I think that’s a lot of Alexander’s eternal fascination. He fought somewhere north of 250 battles, and lost none (where he was physically present).

But HOW to show that? What battles to put on screen? Oliver Stone combined three into one + Hydaspes because he had only 2-3.5 hours (depending on which cut you watch). The Netflix series is going to show all four of the major pitched battles…or at least all 3 for the 6-episode first part. They had circa 4.5 hours to play with, but they cut out other things, like Tyre.

Another issue, from the filming/storytelling point-of-view is how to distinguish Issos from Gaugamela for the casual viewer. They’re virtually identical in tactics (and players on the field). So it made a fair bit of sense to me for Stone to conflate them. In a documentary, it’s more important to separate them, largely to discuss the fall-out.

Some v. important clashes weren’t the Big Four. Among these, the sieges of Halikarnassos and Tyre are probably the most impressive. But the Aornos Rock in India was another amazing piece. I’d also include the bridging of the Indus River to illustrate the astonishing engineering employed. Again, if I had to pick between Halikarnassos and Tyre, I’d pick Tyre. I was a bit baffled by Netflix’s decision to show Halikarnassos instead, but I think it owed to an early error in the scripts, where they had Memnon die there. I corrected that, but they’d already mapped out the beats of the episodes, so they just kept Halikarnassos. That’s fine; it was a major operation, just not his most famous siege.

Last, I really wish somebody, someday, will do something with his Balkan campaigns. What he did in Thrace and Illyria, at just 21, showed his iron backbone and quick thinking. It’d make a great “and the military genius is born” set-up, drama wise. But you could use the Sogdian Rock to show the clever streak, at least (“Find men who can fly” … “I did; look up.” Ha) Plus it has the advantage of being where he (maybe) found Roxana.

Last, he fought extremely well--wasn't just good at tactics. Being a good general doesn’t necessarily mean one’s a good fighter. He was. Almost frighteningly brave, so show that too.

RELIGIOUS:

Ya gotta deal with the “Did he really think he was a god?” thing, and the whole trip to Siwah. I obviously don’t think he believed he was a god; it’s one of the things I disliked about the Netflix show’s approach, but they were dead-set on it. I DO think he came to believe he was somehow of divine descent, but of course, that’s not the same as most moderns understand it, as I’ve explained elsewhere. It made him a hero, not a god on a level with Zeus, and to ME, that’s an important distinction that Netflix (and to some degree Stone) rode roughshod over.

But I’d like to see more inclusion of sacrifice and/or omen-reading—religion in general. Cutting the Gordion Knot (omens!). His visit to Troy (Netflix tackled that one). A really cool thing would be to make more of the lunar eclipse before Gaugamela. Again, Netflix touched on that, but it’s one of those chance events that might actually have affected a battle’s outcome, given how seriously the ancient near east took sky omens. (A solar eclipse once halted a battle.) The Persians were freaked out. Even his massacre of the Branchidai in Sogdiana was driven by religion, not military goals. Pick a couple and underscore them.

I give Stone big props for the sacrifice before the Granikos/Issos/Gaugamela battle. It was so well-done, I’ve actually shown it in my classes to demonstrate what a battlefield sphagia sacrifice would look like.

Alexander was deeply religious. Show it.

POLITICAL:

Ah, for ME the most interesting stuff surrounding Alexander occurs at the political level. Here’s where the triumph story of his military victories all went south. He knew how to win battles. He was less good at managing what he’d conquered.

In terms of a story arc, the whole period up to Gaugamela is really the “rise” of the story. Post-Gaugamela, things began to collapse. And I would pin the turn on PERSEPOLIS. Yes, burning it sent home a message of “Mission accomplished.” But he was selective about it. Areas built by Darius I were spared, Xerxes’ were destroyed: a damnio memoriae.

Problem: Persepolis embodied Persia, and ATG essentially shat on it. Not a good look for the man who wanted to replace Darius III. That he also failed to capture and/or kill Darius created an additional problem for him. Finally, his lack of understanding of how politics worked in Baktria-Sogdiana resulted in an insurgency. Bessos was going to rebel, regardless. But Spitamanes might not have. Alexander created his own mess up there.

Another matter to look at is why he created a new title—King of Asia—instead of adopting the Persian title (King-of-Kings). I don’t think that was a “mistake.” He knew perfectly well the proper Persian title (Kshāyathiya)…and rejected it. He adopted some Persian protocol, but not all of it. After the summer of 330, he was essentially running two parallel courts, which seemed to satisfy neither the Persians nor his own men. (Kinda like docudramas are a hybrid that seems to annoy perhaps more than satisfy.)

So I’d like to see this handled with some nuance, but it’s intrinsically difficult to do—even while, if done well, it would be the most interesting part of an Alexander story, imo.

So, what events, what events…3-4 leap out after Alexander’s adoption of some Persian dress. The Philotas Affair, the Pages Conspiracy, the Death of Kleitos, the marriage to Roxana. I’d show it all, although I could also understand reducing the two conspiracies to one, for time, in which case, the Philotas Affair because it resulted in the fall of Parmenion. But the fact there were two, not just one, tells a story itself.

What about the proskynesis thing with Kallisthenes? I’ve come to disbelieve it ever happened, even though it’s symbolic of the whole problem. So, weirdly, I’m of two minds about showing it. OTOH, it won’t be in my own novels. But OTOH, I could easily see why a showrunner or director might want to include it. And it certainly appears in several of the histories, including Arrian.

Then we have the two indisciplines (mutinies)…one in India that made ATG turn around, and another at Opis. They’re really two different things as one was an officer’s rebellion, the other the soldiers themselves. But will viewers be able to distinguish between them? It’s like the Issos/Gaugamela problem, or for that matter, the two conspiracies. They’re similar enough to confuse the casual viewer. “Didn’t we already see that?”

But if they were narrowed to one, how to choose? The mutiny on the Hyphasis provides an explanation for why he turned back. But the Opis event was more dramatic. The man jumped down into the middle of a rioting crowd and started (essentially) knocking heads together! So if I had to pick…Opis. The other might could be mentioned in retrospect.

PERSONAL:

Here are five things I think really OUGHT to be shown, or that I have yet to be pleased by.

1) Philip isn’t an idiot and should get more than 10 minutes of screentime. Oh, and show Alexander did learn things from him. Stone had to make his movie a Daddy-Issues flick, and the Netflix thing did very little with Philip as they wanted to get to the Alexander-Darius face off (which was the meat of their story). But there’s a very interesting love/competition story there.

2) Olympias is not a bitch and was not involved in Phil’s murder, although I can see why that is catnip to most writers. She did kill Eurydike’s baby and (by extension) Eurydike. One of the historians in the Netflix story (Carolyn, unless I misremember) talked about the rivalry between the two wives, at least. But I think ATG planned to marry the widow and Olympias got rid of her to prevent it. Now THAT’S a story, no? But they were in too much of a hurry to get to Persia.

3) Alexander was not an only child! He had sisters (and a brother) with whom he was apparently close…and a cousin who was his real rival. To me, missing that cousin rivalry overlooks a juicy personal/political story! Too often all the focus winds up on Alexander-Olympias-Philip-Eurydike-Attalos, but man, a more subtle showrunner could do a lot with the Alexander-Amyntas rivalry. But he’s constantly cut out. I can’t think of a documentary that actually addresses Amyntas except in passing (if at all)l

4) Hephaistion’s importance is a must, but I’d like to see him treated as someone with a personality and authority of his own, besides just as ATG’s lover. At least Netflix Went There onscreen with the love-story part, but otherwise, the writers couldn’t figure out what to do with him. Neither Stone nor Netflix really portrayed him as his own person. I do understand why they can’t show the whole cast of characters. I had to do weeding myself in the novels, but I’m annoyed Netflix showed only Hephaistion and Ptolemy. Where’s Perdikkas (so important all along really, but certainly later)? Or Philotas, Kleitos, Krateros, Leonnatos, Lysimachos (later king of Thrace)? I think viewers could probably have handled at least another 5 people, especially if introduced gradually, not all at the beginning.

This brings me to….

5) Alexander’s apparently very real affection for the people in his orbit, from personal physician (Philip) to childhood pedagogue (Lysimachos [not same as above]) to Aristotle to various other philosophers. He was so loyal to his friends, in fact, he initially jailed the people who brought word of Harpalos’ first flight.

He needed to be loved/appreciated and wanted to give back to people. Yes, generosity was expected of kings, and as a king (THE king), his generosity had to excel that of anybody else. But he seemed to genuinely enjoy giving presents. I think of him like that one friend who heard you say you liked that cute pair of “Hello, Kitty” socks…then 6 months later they’re your Christmas present from them. Some of his gifts were grandiose, but not always. I love the dish of little fish (probably smelts) that he sent to Hephaistion, presumably just because his friend liked smelts!

To me, point #5 would be easy to get in with a skilled scriptwriter, tucked into the corners of other scenes. It’d be fun to highlight the personal side. If we can believe Plutarch, he was a PRODIGIOUS letter-writer. Also, he loved to hunt, so that’s another thing. And he loved the theatre, and to watch sport. These would all be very humanizing details.

I think the biggest issue is that most of these documentaries/docudramas are done by people who don’t know squat about Alexander aside from a few things, before deciding to make a documentary/movie about him, or write a book. Their research is shallow, and even if they bring on the experts, they don’t always listen. Stone DID at least have a long fascination with ATG, but it caused him to try to throw in everything but the kitchen sink. It wasn't as bad of a film as some have made it out to be, just horribly bloated and for all his reading, he never understood the WORLDVIEW. I wrote about that some while back in my review.

The best documentary/movie would be told by an actual specialist who knew enough at the outset to craft a better, more complex story arc.

Or maybe I’m just biased because I tried to do that myself in my novels. 😂😂😂😂

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes Part 7

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

He’s looking up at the most beautiful face in the world, all hard-planed jaw beautiful moles sensual mouth. There are bloody fingerprints on the strong chin and agony warps those sharp features. Eddie loves this face more than anything, so if this is the last thing he sees before he dies, he can’t be mad. Except, he doesn’t understand why Steve is so unhappy. He tries to open his mouth, to ask what’s wrong, what happened, but he’s engulfed in a pain so acute, so mind contorting, that everything goes black.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

He sees two men holding each other. Crying? His ears are thick, stuffed with cotton, no sound penetrating. One of them moves, his face now visible, and Eddie’s heart contracts. Uncle Wayne. 

Sound rushes in at the shock of seeing his uncle. His uncle crying. He can hear them now, Wayne’s partially stifled sobs, and a cracked, rough, wavering voice saying through tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I tried to keep him safe. I tried—"

“Shhh, my boy, you did your best. I know you did. You brought him back, Steve.”

“But he might—The doctors say—it’s all my fault, Wayne. I did this. I didn’t keep him safe.”

Eddie wants to yell, to get their attention. Can’t stand to see the two men he loves most in the world crying when he’s right here. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

Wayne, asleep with his arms crossed over his chest, in a plastic chair. And Steve—Steve still here, still with him, still waiting for him to wake up. Steve’s left hand twines with one of Eddie’s and he’s propped up just so that he can write and hold a notebook steady at the same time. That’s briefly confusing before he recognizes that it’s a black Composition Book, one of Eddie’s own with a dragon inked in red on the front. 

He allows himself to watch Steve, admire the curve of his cheek, the sharpness of his jaw, the lovely moles and freckles across his skin (the nights Eddie spent thinking about kissing each and every one of those marks). His hair is deflated, falling limply over his forehead, but he’s still so beautiful, Eddie almost can’t take it. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

This time is different. He senses it immediately, his head less fuzzy, his fingers able to twitch. He’s like awake awake. There’s a tube in his throat, which fucking sucks, sort of hurts. He wants to claw it out, but that seems extreme. 

He doesn’t see Wayne, but he’s not alone, his fingers twisted into someone’s hair, the silken fine strands soft against his palm. Eddie’s eyes drift down to find Steve, head cradled on his arms against the edge of the hospital bed, snoring gently. Eddie can’t stop himself from pressing the flat of his hand into the chestnut locks.

Eddie’s touch has Steve blinking sleepy hazel right before he springs to his feet, “Eddie??” he yelps. Eddie, for his part, opens his mouth to respond, remembers the tube down his throat, and settles for waving. 

“Holy shit,” Steve says. He slams the “call” button, then says, “Fuck this, be right back,” and flees into the hall. 

Later, when the doctors all leave, Eddie can’t stop the tears that slip free, but Steve is there, holding his hands, crawling into the narrow bed with him to hold him close until they fall asleep, Eddie’s head on Steve’s chest.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

A week later, Eddie wakes up in an empty room. He hasn’t been alone, even once, since regaining consciousness and he has a second of panic before he hears the soft murmur of Steve’s voice from just outside the door. It’s relaxing, and Eddie’s gaze falls to the shockingly blue sky out his window. 

He's lucky, he knows. He lived, the murder charges were dropped, he found a group of people to call family. 

And Steve. Even if they’re just friends. It’s okay. He’s okay with that. Steve saved his life, stayed by his side, gave Eddie the most love he’s ever had. And that’s good.

He’s so locked into his thoughts he doesn’t realize that Steve’s come back into the room until there’s a Hawkins General branded notepad and pen thumping into his lap.   

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Just thinking.”

“Good stuff?”

Eddie smiles as he writes. “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Just that I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

Steve’s face flushes a pretty pink and maybe Eddie takes it back, being okay with just friends. 

“Best friends forever, right?”

It’s Eddie’s turn to blush. “As long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever then.”

He looks at Steve, then, at the flush of his face and the brightness of his eyes and wishes.

“Eds.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I like it.”

“Steve,” he whispers. His heart’s going a mile a minute and Steve is looking at him, gazing at him, his whole fucking heart in those hazel eyes. 

“I have something for you,” Steve says. It’s careful, like he’s afraid Eddie will spook. He pulls a crumpled sheet of paper from his jacket pocket, smoothing it out, handing it over.

Eddie looks at the note. 

“You ever been in love?” it says.

“No, but I think I’m falling,” is the answer

“I love you, Eddie,” is the follow-up. It’s accompanied by an atrocious sketch of a sailor boy and a rockstar holding hands, little asymmetrical valentine’s hearts between them.

Eddie can’t help it, he laughs even as tears fill his eyes. His heart is all twisted up, his mind reeling. This can’t be real. How can this be real.

“Eds?” Steve asks. He’s nervous now, breathy, and oh, he really meant it. 

Steve Harrington is in love with Eddie Munson. 

Jesus Christ. 

“Stevie?” Eddie can���t quite get air into his lungs; he’s so overwhelmed with fondness. “Baby, I love you so much.” 

Steve’s crying now. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” he writes.

 “You took as much time as you needed, considering I thought you were straight.”

“Me too. Until you.”

“Come here?” Eddie shifts as far over in the hospital bed as he can. He has to have Steve close, has to touch him, has to make sure this is actually happening. 

Steve climbs up, gentle in a way that only Steve Harrington can be, and Eddie curls into him, holding the man he loves as tight as he can. 

“Can I say that I’m sorry?” Steve asks, mouth against Eddie’s ear. 

“Again? I don’t think you have anything else to apologize for.”

“Kissing you that night.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow and Steve seems to catch the misstep, quickly says. “Oh, shit. No, I’m not sorry for the kiss, but for when it happened. You were upset and I thought it might help?”

Eddie giggles, can’t stop it, but cups a hand around the contours of Steve’s cheek. 

“It did help. But mayyybe the circumstances weren’t the best.” 

“That’s why I’m sorry.” His eyes flick to Eddie’s mouth. “You think I can make up for it now?” 

“Please,” Eddie answers, can hardly get the words out, too shocked at how this is his life; that the boy he loves, loves him back.

One of Steve’s hands winds into the hair at the back of Eddie’s skull, and then they’re kissing, soft and slow, and he can’t think of anything aside from Steve Harrington’s gentle chapped lips and the stubble on his jaw and the way his mouth feels around Eddie’s tongue.  

They pull apart after a couple of minutes, Eddie already feeling the strain on his battered body. Their foreheads rest against each other, still sharing air.  

“I love you,” Eddie whispers. 

“Love you more than anything, Eds,” Steve answers, his hold on Eddie tightening, like he'll never, ever let go.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

On a napkin from the Hideout, imprinted with the ring of a glass and half-formed song lyrics:

“What if we owned this place, Stevie? I’ve got ideas.”

“You want to?”

“Been thinking about it. As much as I’m shocked to admit it, we could have a life here. A good one, I think.”

“Whatever you want, babylove. Whatever makes you happy. You know I’ll go wherever you are.” 

“Even if we stay in shitty old Hawkins?”

“Even then. Best friends forever, yeah?”

“God, you’re a dork, Harrington”

“The dork you’ve been in love with for three years.”

“I’m having second thoughts.”

“Like hell you are. You’re obsessed with me.”

It ends with a cheeky little sketch of a devil.

On a Hawkins Middle paystub for guidance counselor Steve Harrington:

“Wanna do the one-shot with us when the kids are home for Christmas?”

“Sure”

--

“What?”

“Sure. Sure says Steve Harrington like it’s nothing, like I haven’t asked you to play almost every week for YEARS.”

“Calm down, Munson. Let’s just say you wore me down.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“Paladin, do you think?”

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Hmm, what race, though? I want to be something cool.”

“Steve.”

“Huh?”

“Take your fucking clothes off right fucking now”

On a wedding invitation addressed to Steve and Eddie (return address Max Mayfield and Lucas Sinclair):

“Why didn’t you get more milk???”

“Oops, sorry, Stevie. Forgot”

“Well???’

“Oh, you want me to go now. Okay. Back soon.”

“Love you, Eds”

“Love you more, Stevie.”

On scattered bits of paper and detritus across the Munson household:

“Love you, baby”

“Love you more”

“Love you most”

“You’re everything, Munson.”

“Kiss me”

“Always”

“You’re beautiful, Steve Harrington. Can’t believe I get to have this.”

“Love you”

“Love you more”

(BONUS PART)

This is the end of the Steddie Notes saga (though there may be a Steddie Notes-verse surprise coming soon 😈) This part took longer than usual because I wanted to make it perfect. I hope you love it as much as I do!!! I'll be posting this on ao3 soon, if you want to check it out there too (I'll be adding back pieces I cut for length). Thank you all so much for sticking with me! It's been such a pleasure to write and share with you all! 💜💜💜

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro

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@somewhereatdawn @5pac3g1r7 @thequeervibes @paperbackribs @bitchysunflower @knitsforthetrail @wrenisflying @plasticcrotches @demoniccorvid @em9515 @savory-babby @loverliner @aceacebaby42

@trainchomp @anaibis

[froggyfics]

For Your Pleasure - 3

The aftermath comes to light.

18+ only! I do not consent for this content to be viewed by minors. Please take heed of the warnings listed, though they are not entirely comprehensive. Do not continue reading if you are uncomfortable with the content. This story and its contents are 100% fictional, and are not affiliated with Marvel Comics.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: viking!dark! Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: violence, bloodshed

Word Count: 1,774

The invader – your assailant – leaves you writhing in pain in your home. You’re unsure if it’s because he wants to terrorize some other unlucky villager or if he just got bored of you.

You cough up spit, dust, and dirt. It’s impossible to keep your vision steady. Your legs are wobbly like a newborn calf and there’s a great pain in your abdomen. 

It takes every ounce of your energy to lift the barrel into your arms. A sense of remorse envelopes you. Although you are being forced by the invader to take your family’s food, you can’t help but feel like you’re stealing from them.

You grunt while you carry the heavy barrel to the rocky shoreline that sits at the edge of your village. Your peripheral vision notes that there are dozens of people scattered across the sandy shore. Some are your fellow bloodied villagers. The others are the barbarians. 

You remember your grandmother’s voice from when you were younger.

“The Vikings,” she ominously tells you. 

“Oh mother, don’t scare the poor child!” Your mother huffs. “The Vikings have not attacked in several years.”

Your grandmother exclaims, “They will return!” She shakes her frail hand in the air with as much energy as she could before hacking up some phlegm. She takes your small hands in hers, “This village has become lazy. The Vikings do not attack for a few years and all of a sudden, everyone thinks that they are safe. Ha!” She coughs some more. “You wait and see, child. Wait and see. The Vikings will always return. Be prepared.”

“Right over there.” A Viking shoves your shoulder towards a particular boat, forcibly bringing you back to the present. 

You approach the boat carefully. The stormy waves are crashing against it, but it does not yield to the power of the water. It holds steady in the wet sand. You almost want to marvel at it. The puny boats that the local fishermen had would have cracked and disintegrated against the power of the waters. 

You lower the barrel into the small boat, where there are several more identical barrels within. With the amount of food they are taking, your village will certainly starve before the weather warms again.

You turn around to look for your family. They’re not there and despair strikes your heart. Your legs take you to sit next to a crying Helga, wrapping your arm around her, like you did with Frida earlier. She does not speak, but you can tell the story of what happened to her by looking at the tattered remains of her clothes and various scratches and cuts across her. She suffered the same fate as you.

The two of you do not exchange any words. There’s still chaos all around. Screams pulsate in the air. Blood fills your nostrils every so often when you sniff hard enough. The Vikings relay orders to one another, readying their boats. There’s one behemoth of a ship a mile into the sea - waiting for the return of the barbarians. 

The lonesome ship piques your interest. It comes to your attention that there are actually very few Vikings around compared to the population of your village. They really overtook your measly village’s defenses with a skeleton crew. You all were easy to defeat. Just another village for them to conquer. 

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t catch Frida as your assailant drops her into you.

“Frida!” you cry out. 

“She certainly has a fighter’s spirit,” your assailant chuckles. “My men caught her trying to crawl away.” He meanly kicks her legs, as you cradle her body.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head and she does not regain consciousness despite your attempts at waking her. Slaps and pinches do not bring her back. Red splotches engulf her dress, but her chest moves up and down. She’s still alive, but hangs on by a thread.

“Please,” you stare into his eyes. “She is but a child. She needs to go to a healer.”

“A healer?” He scoffs. “Do not prolong her suffering. She may not be dead yet, but she will certainly cross that bridge tonight.”

Helga lovingly brushes her fingers through Frida’s hair. It was all she could do to communicate to Frida somehow that she was not alone. You rock Frida like you would a baby, trying to comfort her the best you knew how. 

There’s so much noise all around -  more than what you were used to hearing. The village was always so quaint. There were never this many screams.

The jarl barks out orders to his crew. The band of barbarians move swiftly like water, as if they have done this before. 

“Fear not! I do not intend to kill you. After all, who else will warm my bed while I travel across the sea, if not you?”

A shudder involuntarily comes over you. You pray with every part of your being that he didn’t mean what he said -  that it was just a scare tactic used to keep you compliant at that moment in time. 

Rocking Frida back and forth relieves you of your worries and your pain. Despite your chest and pelvis screaming in agony, she is all that matters at this moment. Splintered wood from the jarl’s arrow surrounds her gaping wound. Whoever found her must have yanked the arrow out, hoping that Frida would bleed to death. 

“Too bad for them. Frida’s a fighter,” you think. “She’ll come back to me soon enough, ready to talk my ears off.”

More and more survivors gather on the shore. The smell of defeat is in the air. You look around for your village’s chieftain, but he is nowhere in sight. In fact, you don’t see a single member of his household. 

Anger suddenly surges inside your chest at the thought of the chieftain’s likely death. You don’t quite understand why. You neither liked nor disliked the chieftain. Yet suddenly, in the midst of the turmoil and vanquishment, you’ve become a devout follower of his.

Your eyes survey your surroundings. You finally find the jarl, talking to his men with his back turned to you. You hope your eyes gain the divine power to burn holes in the back of his head.

As if he is clairvoyant, he slowly turns around to face you. You hope he sees the hatred in your eyes.

He does - you know he does because he grins. His teeth are still stained red. He motions you to come to him with his hand. You stubbornly look away.

“Go, girl!” Helga scolds. “Go, see what he wants. Otherwise, you will be the death of us all!”

Helga pries Frida from your arms. It feels like you’re losing Frida again.

“Oh, yes, please. Take your time! No rush!” The jarl shouts, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You hold your tongue, even though a growl froths in your throat. Shaky legs trudge to him. Every inch of you still hurts from his earlier assault. 

His hand gently grabs onto your shoulder. It feels like a mocking gesture. You know just how dangerous his hands are. You don’t think you could ever forget how his hands violated you.

“We’re going into that one.” He points at a boat some distance away. 

You inhale a shaky breath. The world becomes fuzzy and black spots take over your vision. The ground no longer supports you, and you slowly freefall into the dark abyss. 

A muffled voice exclaims, “Oh no, we will not have any of that!” 

He’s there to catch you. When you land in his arms, the darkness fades away, but then you’re left with the inescapable light. You take a moment to process your fainting episode. You peer up at the smiling jarl, with his blood-stained teeth. Your parents raised you right - you were nearly about to thank him for catching you. The words fumble in your mouth though, as your mind catches up to the situation.

Why are you even surprised? He quite explicitly told you that he would kidnap you earlier. You have an out-of-body experience as he marches you to the designated boat. This feels like a dream - a dream that you have when you have a fever so great that it deludes you.

When you’re within arms reach of the boat, you’re suddenly pulled into reality. 

“Run!” your mind screams at you. “Fight back or die trying! Die now with your brethren instead of far away from home!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts disapprovingly at your hesitation. “Do not provoke me, girl.” He leans in closely to whisper in your ear. “I’ll make you watch as I slit that little girl’s throat.”

You blink at him, and then observe the other villagers. Not one of them dares to meet your gaze. The shame of their silence is more nauseating than the blood.

The jarl laughs heartily when you voluntarily step into the boat. “I knew you were well-behaved!”

Frida’s limp body becomes smaller and smaller as the boat sweeps you away. Helga does not even look in your direction. 

The ship is so much bigger than anything you’ve seen before. If it were under different circumstances, you would take the time to marvel at its gorgeous architecture. It’s not like your captor would have allowed you a moment of reprieve. A flurry of bodies surround you as the crew prepare to set sail. 

You clutch onto the ship’s railing, looking longingly at your village. You’re in a daze until a certain sight piques your interest. 

The shoreline is barely visible from the ship, but you know it’s them. Despite the obvious injuries they’ve sustained, it’s evident that your parents have come out from their hiding places to the shoreline to survey the survivors. You can tell it’s them despite the tattered remains of their clothes and the large red stains. They are searching - trying to find their siblings, nieces, nephews, neighbors, friends, and children. 

You inhale as deeply as you could, so that your scream would be deafening. Your mother’s head whips in your direction.

A genuine smile stretches across your face. “Mother,” you croak - your voice finally giving out to the day’s trauma. You give a small wave before your hand is yanked and twisted behind your back.

You know it’s him before he even speaks. “Shut it, woman!” His grip on your wrist tightens tenfold. “You will speak only when spoken to.”

He continues to yap in your ear about obedience and compliance, and even though the village grows smaller in your vision as the ship sails away, you continue to smile.

[jolieblack]

Jolie’s thoughts on

The Dancing Men (Sherlock & Co. podcast)

OK, deep breath.

What a ride.

There’s a reason why I’m so late putting my thoughts into words this time round. This case really hit different, at least the final 15 minutes did.

Let’s talk about the earlier four fifths first… Lots of great moments as usual!

John getting into another tussle with London water fowl. "Get a life!" Who needs to get a life, we wonder fondly.

"I bring soup, glorious soup!" - So sweet! Even sweeter with the reversal at the end.

"Never mind Sherlock, his best mate is that bloody microphone." - Not the most hilarious punchline ever, Stamo, but what I love most about this comment is how John doesn’t find it funny at all.

John being a tech nerd with the audio editing of the cryptic message! Pop culture knowledge and tech nerdery doing what Sherlock Holmes couldn’t. Wa-hoo!

Another highlight: The Stamfords singing for fun (and John ruining it by insisting on singing along). And *then* the Stamfords becoming absolutely instrumental in making the final musical puzzle! (Not that they couldn’t just have used a regular recording for their trap, like Abe did for his message to Elsie, but then where would have been the fun. I’m surprised that Sherlock can’t hold a tune, btw. I’m even more surprised that he was trying to sing for an audience.) But the whole music puzzle theme was lovely altogether. Very clever, very creative. "The Police! It’s The Police!" 😂

Not entirely sure what to think of the NYPD behaving like a third rate action drama NYPD… but yeah, we got the message. And I guess it was also a necessary preparatory scene for the end of Part 3. I mean, there’s actually no way in hell that the London police would set a trap for a murder suspect pretty much with the main objective of killing him right away, rather than arresting him. There’s also no way in hell that the London police would shoot at two nerds running around in their crime scene just like that. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was left wondering after Part 1 what the significance of the Lost Rivers of London was going to be. That mention and the explanation seemed just too random to be random. And then it came back in part 2… And then I turned out to be right. Yay!

Poor harassed Inspector Martin is a whole mood. 😆

And then - tadah - we finally find out about "Lestrade"! 🥳 Didn’t I say she was the character I was most interested in meeting? Love "Gwen", which I’m taking as a nod to "Greg", my personal favourite Lestrade of all time. Also, good choice to make her a very high ranking officer, to explain why it’s OK for the police to cooperate with an irregular freelancer like Sherlock (a major headache in any modern adaptation).

"A lot has changed in those 8 seconds" - This is just bound to be another absolute classic in our fandom.

John playing a BBC presenter! Dream on. And boo John for not acknowledging how absolutely correct Sherlock’s comment about war never being "other news" was. I love that they got to officially hijack the actual BBC for their stunt though.

John getting a too-tight bullet proof vest and making a new friend. 😝 Seriously Sherlock, your status was never in question here.

"Don’t stereotype Americans!" - "He’s from Chicago, for God’s sake!" - Love how John just never takes his own advice.

And THEN…

I have so many questions. Sherlock and John should have so many questions, too, for themselves and for each other.

I would like to know what John thinks it is that makes him run after Sherlock into situations so frightening and dangerous that he literally wets himself. That really is no joke.

I would also like to know why these two are convinced that they’re fine going after an armed, mentally unstable killer on their own, especially when a police team armed to the teeth is standing ready just around the corner. Is an unhealthy adrenaline addiction a necessary prerequisite of being Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, and if yes, will we see (hear, I mean) them actually talk about it, reflect on it, deal with it? Nobody forced them to confront Abe with zero backup like that. Are they just OK with it?

Yeah, like all of you, I forgot about the bullet-proof vest, too. Not that I could tell, in audio format, that John *didn’t* get shot in the head or in the leg or in any other place that might as well be fatal…

The way Sherlock says "please" kills me.

As does the way he goes back and forth between "John" and "Watson" in this scene, depending on whether he’s being coolly calculating or horribly worked up emotionally.

Is John actually telling Sherlock to shoot Abe before Abe shoots them (again), when Sherlock is about to drop the gun? Our Jonk, who hates gun violence and who keeps telling Sherlock that he can’t just shoot people, even if they’re very bad people?

I won’t be shouting and screaming and yelling about Sherlock completely losing the plot and taunting and abusing a dying man (a certified mentally ill man, too) and - according to the official transcript - actually strangling him, too, because we’ve been doing nothing else for a week now. But I want this addressed, too. I want this to be reflected on by the characters. I want them to figure it out live on audio where that came from and what it means. If I was John I’d be effing *scared* of my flatmate after this, even if he called me his best friend in the same breath.

A lot of us are seeing the parallel to the showdown of the first episode of BBC Sherlock, of course, and what Sherlock does to the dying bad guy in that scene… and I think it’s legit to wonder what this parallel means for the podcast. Especially since it has no equivalent in ACD canon. ACD’s Holmes does taunt bad guys sometimes after they’re defeated, but only ever verbally, and not when they’re physically hurting, let alone dying. And he sometimes lets fate run its course, rather than stepping in and saving a bad guy from the consequences of his own actions (like Baron Gruner, or Charles Augustus Milverton), but that’s only *allowing* bad things to happen, not actively inflicting physical and/or emotional pain on an already suffering/dying villain with his own words or hands. BBC Sherlock could plausibly do it because that was still the Sherlock without John, the Sherlock before John, the Sherlock that eventually got changed for the better by John’s positive influence. Here in the podcast, Sherlock has been sharing his life with John for months already and he’s *still* doing this? I find that disquieting, to say the least.

I guess what I want most from this episode is CONSEQUENCES. And I’m worried that we’ll just not get any. Starting with John needing at least one broken rib after being hit by a bullet at such close range, if not several. But more importantly, consequences in terms of "what the fuck did we do there and let’s count in how many ways it wasn’t OK". I mean, seriously, our boys are in for YEARS of therapy now.

I am so curious to find out just how badly that will all be glossed over in the upcoming episodes. I mean, I know this is fiction. I know the Podlock Universe is a place where you can be back making music within a day or two of shooting yourself in the head and being in a coma. But I don’t want realism for the sake of realism, I want it for the sake of the characters' journeys and their relationship.

I also want to know how on earth Joel is planning to top this one once he gets to the Three Garridebs.

[sturnsluv]

meddle about pt. 1

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when Y/N finds herself falling for her big brothers life-long enemy, will she choose love or family?

warnings: mentions of blood

⭒˚.⋆

3:43 pm

I watched Matt storm off, blood dripping from his nose, and chest heaving like some sort of MMA fighter after a match. My head whipped back towards my brother, who stood there like he was some sort of god, shoulders broad, face solemn, and that same bloody nose leaking wine-looking stains all over his white shirt.

“What the hell Jack!” I shouted. This is all they ever do: fight, fight, and fight. My brother Jack and Matthew Sturniolo have hated each other for as long as I can remember, which I completely understand. Matt’s an insufferable dickhead with an ego the size of the Titanic. Despite my best efforts to avoid him, I always manage to find myself around him, caught in the crossfire of their endless feud.

Matt’s brother Nick has been my best friend since 2nd grade when he punched a boy who made fun of the tiara I wore to school that day. Since then, I have been forced into a house that always consists of Matt. Although my hatred partly came from my loyalty to my big brother, Matt’s attitude had a way of making me hate him all by myself. Like all the times he’s made snide comments about Jack’s ability on the hockey team. Or the way he looks at me like his eyes are bullets piercing into my skin with every remark he makes. 

“What? he was being a dick!” Jack hollered back, his face contorting with a mix of confusion and anger. His short, permed, brunette hair fell messily in front of his eyes, and the back stuck up all which ways. He stood tall like Dad, but his green eyes came from our Mother. 

“Mom is going to kill you Jackson,” I say through gritted teeth, my frustration with their constant fighting boiling over. Mom had explicitly warned Jack that the next fight with Matt would result in him being done with hockey, but it seemed like these two senseless men couldn't keep their hands off each other, no matter the consequences.

Jack only had the energy to roll his eyes at me and stumble away, most likely to go clean up his battered face. I sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of our recurring “Sturniolo” drama settling in once again. Ignoring the turmoil brewing inside me, I reached down to my back pocket and pulled out my phone, immediately clicking on Nick’s contact.

Y/N:

our stupid brothers fought again 🥱

nick😛:

you HAVE to be fucking kidding me.

Y/N:

I wish I were bro

Nick😛: 

at this point I think they’re secretly in love and this is all a cover up

I giggle to myself cause honestly, he’s probably right. Nick always has the perfect way of making me laugh, and he’s one of the only people in my life I never feel judged around. Nick has held me as I cried and laughed with me hours later over the stupid boys who’ve broken my heart. He’s even forced Matt to pick me up after I had been stranded at parties or events. Overall, he’s always been there for me. I have other friends of course, but those friendships have never felt real to me, always one-sided on my part. 

 Looking up I slide my phone back into my pocket and begin the most dreadful trek across the football field. Okay, that was dramatic but looking for Jack isn’t exactly something I'm up for right now. Tonight is going to be restless from the amount of bickering I'm about to hear from him and Mom. The house was already loud enough with Mom and Dad fighting. Ever since I was eight years old, Mom and Dad haven’t gotten along. They’ve tried almost everything to mend their marriage. Even couples counseling, but nothing ever worked, so me and Jack just have to deal with it.

 I sigh to myself as my mind races, and the gentle trudge across the field continues toward the locker room, where I assume I’ll find my brother. But the fighting won't even be the worst part of it all. The worst part will be tomorrow when I'm over at Nick’s house, hearing Matt bitch and moan about Jack. I swear every time I’m around him I have to fight the urge to strangle him. All he talks about is the stupid cheerleaders he’s hooking up with, or lacrosse this, hockey that. His voice is unbearable and it’s genuinely the reason I question if I want to go over every time Nick asks. 

Suddenly I'm broken out of my thoughts when I hear my name called from behind me. I turn around and see the one and only center of my anger. Matt. His voice cuts through the tension-filled air like a knife. His expression is unreadable, but his body language exudes a mix of exhaustion and hesitation.

“What do you want?” I yell back at him. He’s standing about twenty feet away from me with the same bloody face he had about thirty minutes ago. My face drops when he starts to jog towards me and I’m filled with a feeling of ‘please leave me alone.’ 

As Matt gets closer the sound of his sneakers hitting the wet, sloshy turf rises, and so does my frustration. “You have a ride home?” He breathes out, panting lightly. Matt places a hand on his knee to steady himself, while the other scratches the back of his neck. His face is flushed and red. The fight obviously damaged him, and he looked nervous to be standing in front of me.

“That’s seriously all you wanted?” My face gains a snarky scowl and I look him up and down, noticing the way his hand is running through the hairs at the back of his neck and the way he lightly taps his foot on the ground. It's apparent he’s on edge, which I assume is because of the fact he just beat my brother's ass, but I couldn’t care less about either of them right now. I mean I do love my big brother, but not when he’s acting so prideful after doing something so wrong. Even if he wasn’t the one to initiate it. Matt’s loud but unsteady voice cuts off my thoughts.

“Well I just assumed Jack left, and Nick's order is to always look after you, even if I want to kick your face in,” He exclaims as he smiles sarcastically at me. I scoff and look away mumbling a quick ‘I’m good’ under my breath. I hear him start to speak, but I cut him off by turning around and continuing my path toward the locker room. I assume at that moment he turns as well, going off in search of his car.

As I walk away my feet drag against the turf, little beads coming up beneath me and I’m overwhelmed with strange, alluring thoughts of Matt’s bloody face. 

⭒˚.⋆

11:47 pm

God, will they ever shut up? I listen to Mom’s and Jack’s muffled voices from the kitchen. Tossing and turning in my bed, I put my fluffy, pink pillow around my ears to attempt to surround myself in silence. That doesn’t work as the pillow is too thin, and the yelling continues pounding into my eardrums. 

When the school called earlier and told our parents what happened, Mom was pissed immediately. Even though the fight was after school hours, it still took place on “school property” so both Jack and Matt ended up suspended. On any normal occasion, I’d be delighted to hear about Matt’s suspension (as it happens quite frequently), but now that Jack’s involved I think I might go insane. His presence in the chaos only amplifies the tension in our home.

But I keep thinking about Matt, and what he said to me. He’s usually not the type of guy to walk over offering any type of help. He’s one of those mysterious types of guys who always get into trouble, even though you barely see them talk. I think it’s all an egotistical act he does to seem tough. Whenever I’m at Nick’s he’s hidden away in his room playing video games made for children. It’s so out of character of him to even think of me and the more I contemplate, I can’t help but grin. Sitting up on my mattress I slap my face. What the fuck am I thinking? Nothing about Matt Sturniolo should be making me smile. Not the way his hair flops in front of his eyes, or the way his mouth lifts to the side when he smiles. Even the way his arms flex when he wraps his hands around a lacrosse stick. Ew! What am I doing? 

I lay my head back on my pillow, letting the thoughts of Matt drift out of my mind. My brain starts to calm and just as I’m about to fall asleep- Ding! 

“Ugh,” I verbally groan at the sound of my phone snapping me back awake. I reach my hand out and turn it over, and the bright screen practically blinds me. As my eyes start to adjust I’m finally able to see what the message is.

Matt Sturniolo: 

hey I gotta ask you something

⭒˚.⋆

a/n: first chapter lmk what you guys think! 😊 comment to be on my taglist!

[berylcups]

I don't know if you take requests like this but I'm interested in your general headcanons for La Squadra — if you have any! I like the way you portray them :)

Aw, thank you very much! I’m glad you enjoy my interpretations of everyone’s favorite blorbos! 💜

La Squadra General Head Canons

CW: blood mention, death mention, grief, alcohol, weed, transphobia, child mental abuse mention, bullying, sex work, toxic masculinity, internalized homophobia?(im gonna add it just to be safe even though it’s used as a joke by an LGBTQIA+ person…a trigger is still a trigger)

Notes: This is technically number 3 on my list but I'm submitting this one first since it got finished first! I hope this will satisfy your appetite while I continue to work on the earlier asks in order! If anyone wants a deep dive in-depth general HC list of any specific character feel free to send in an ask! 🥰excluding Melone of course... there's already one done of him!(that doesn't include other genres, yandere, romantic, etc. Mel HCs are still on the table!) Hope you all enjoy! 💜 Beryl

Risotto

1- He has PTSD and lingering symptoms of grief. This developed after his cousin died. He has conversations in his head with his dead cousin when he feels lonely or stressed.

2- The smell of blood gives him the same response as cuteness aggression. He needs to cuddle and squeeze the life out of something when he smells that iron-y goodness.

3-He's into leatherwork and knows how to skin an animal. He would help his grandparents in Sicily kill and skin the cattle. Blood and viscera are a common thing in his life.

4. He refuses to drink alcohol. He can’t stomach it knowing that it’s what caused the driver to murder his cousin. He opts for marijuana instead. It's really therapeutic for his PTSD. Formaggio, Pesci, and Melone are the best guys to smoke with. They always know how to show Ris a good time!

5- He doesn’t play favorites when it comes to his men. But only Formaggio knows how to make him laugh. He also has a soft spot for Sorbet and Gelato since they were the first men in his group. He cares for all his men equally, no exceptions.

Formaggio

1- He’s a 30 year old man who’s half Spanish and half Italian. He was born and raised in Firenze. He’s proud of his colorful family roots but he’s always going to cheer on Italy when he’s watching football!

2- Crazy cat man. This guy has five cats and they all are named after cheeses. And they are all orange cats. That grey one you saw in the bottle? You didn’t see shit. There was no grey cats being abused put into bottles. No you can’t change my mind. 😤 There’s Brie, Asiago, Colby, Fontina, and Queso.

3- always says “where’s my hug at??”. Also says “no homo” before doing anything that might be suggestive. This man is bisexual. 🤦‍♀️🤦 saying that doesn’t make it any less queer my Bi- King 👑 he’s the best hugger, 2nd is Pesci, and 3rd is Risotto.

4- This man is the hairiest in the group. He's always trimming his hair and shaving his chest and happy trail. If he doesn't shave he'll end up with a full beard and mustache, full chest of hair connected to his happy trail. The only thing he doesn't shave are his arms, pits, and legs and they are ridiculously hairy. 😬

5- Illuso is actually his best friend. Shocking? I know. They’re very competitive and sadistic hitmen. They always try to outdo each other on how gruesome and creatively they can take someone out. They both like to get drunk or high and watch football and wreck up the base.

Illuso

1- This prideful 28 year old is half Swiss German and Italian born and raised in Milano. His bad attitude came from always being compared to his younger brother. His little brother could do no wrong and Illuso always had to set a good example for him. The pressure got to him and just like Fugo he snapped but it turned bloody. His mom and younger brother are afraid of him and want nothing to do with him anymore and his father is sleeping 6 feet under.

2- He’s very sensitive and has rejection sensitivity dysphoria. As a child he was a big crybaby and his dad always scolded him to “man up” and fight back when he’s being bullied. It wasn’t until Secondary school where he started fighting back and becoming a bully himself. Now it’s all second nature to him. He puts up a façade of being an unpleasant person to hide his weaknesses.

3- He’s an avid artist who loves working with charcoal and graphite. His still lifes, landscapes, and portraits are near photorealistic. If his name didn’t give it away, he loves illustrating reflective surfaces the most. He wants his own studio where he can display his work. He doesn’t want to show off his work to others though. He’s very sensitive about his art pieces. He only does it for his own self satisfaction. He does want to be able to share this with a special someone though if he were able to find someone that he didn’t scare off.

4- He was born with Man in the Mirror. He used to use the mirror realm to hide and cry so he wouldn’t get made fun of by other kids or get yelled at by his dad for being “weak”. He obviously now uses it to store dead bodies and uses it as a safe place to attack people.

5- He was very sheltered as a child. The first time he saw masculine genitals besides his own was he went to Galleria dell’Accademia di Firenze with his parents seeing Michel Di Angelo’s David. He embarrassed them by loudly asking his father “papà why is his pìpì so tiny???” 😳

Pesci

1- He’s the youngest member at 19 years old. He’s from Sardinia.

2- Pesci has a mild form of Klippel-Feil syndrome. This doesn’t affect his self esteem. He’s actually pretty content with his body image! He just wishes he had more mobility with his neck. He does worry about passing that specific gene down to his potential children so he’s going to avoid having them. He fears his children will get bullied and not be able to develop a thick skin like he does. 😢 maybe his future s/o can help change his mind about that? 🥹

3- He’s a farm to table type of man. He fishes for his meal, cleans and debones , and cooks it to perfection. He knows how to prepare anything that lived in the water. Even the poisonous Fugu. But he doesn’t trust his skills enough to serve you that though! …unless you’re the boss. 😈

4- When he’s fed up with Prosciuttos harsh treatment, he’ll mock/impersonate him behind his back with Formaggio. 😅 his voice could use some work but he has the cadence and body language on point!

5- Coffee, tea, Cigs, energy drinks, or anything that is a stimulant will give poor Pesci the insta-shits. 💩 his tummy is DYING. Give him the entire toilet roll he’s gonna be in the bathroom allllll day. 😭 give him dairy, spicy, greasy, or anything else that’s irritating to the bowels. He can handle it like a CHAMP. Just no go-go juice.

Prosciutto

1- He’s a 26 year old Roman man. He’s a bastard child who never knew his father. He’s the oldest out of his 6 half siblings. His mother was a sex worker and a single mom so she always had to rely on her eldest Son Prosciutto to take care of his siblings. He never had a real childhood and had to grow up fast. This explains the aging nature of his stand and his stern attitude.

2- He sort of followed in his mother’s footsteps by sleeping with tourists and robbing them blind which is how he was able to get so much designer clothes and jewelry. Don’t ever bring up the part of his life before Passione, unless you have a death wish. He’s very ashamed of his past.

3- He has a hobby of winemaking and tasting. His dream is to have a villa in the countryside and have his own vineyard where he can make, drink, and sell his own wine .

4- He’ll take this secret to his grave but he has a mild phobia of taxidermy animals and embalmed corpses. Something that looks so life like yet is completely dead never to walk again really unnerves him. He doesn’t enjoy seeing things decay either. He finds it very unpleasant, but at least he’s aware that they are no longer among the living.

5- He’s a huge technophobe. Outside using his cellphone for calls and laptop for emails, he does NOT want anything to do with technology. Don’t come to his house and expect to Netflix and chill. You’re gonna gramophone and whoopie LMAO 😭. He likes old stuff because it “lasts longer “ totally not because he doesn’t know how to use anything. 🥲 he thinks video games are a waste of time and gets on the guys for playing them…they completely ignore him. 😂

Melone

I did a deep dive on this fella already click the link below to see it!⬇

Ghiaccio

1- He’s a proud 23 year old Venetian. He was born AFAB and became his authentic self as a trans man. Only Melone knows Ghiaccio before he became his authentic self. He's very supportive of him and refuses to deadname him or even speak about his life beforehand. If you mention anything about it you might get beaten up by Melone first before Ghiaccio gets a chance to scream at you. They bicker alot but they are close friends.

2- He got kicked out of multiple schools for beating the living shit out of his bullies for making fun of his nerdiness and LGBTQIA status. He eventually dropped out and joined passione.

3. He has a hobby for sports. He loves competitive swimming, hockey and ice skating the most. He wanted to go to the Olympics for it but transphobia prevented him from competing. (You can see why he might have an anger problem…)

4- Ghiaccio can see without his glasses. He just has severe astigmatism and gets headaches if he stares at the screen too long without them.

5- He has level 1 autism. He’s grumpy but sociable. He becomes awkward when you’re genuinely nice to him. He's not used to not having arguments and having an actual cordial conversation with someone. You can help him get used to that! He’s very sensitive to textures when it comes to clothes or food. Loud noises don’t bother him but certain noises do (pens clicking, fluorescent lights humming, mouth noises, high pitched whining like police or ambulance sirens, etc)