#but I'm having the absolute Worst time trying to search by date

[possible-eldritch-catboy]

I am suddenly reobsessed with cataloguing all of the currently known members of the Forty Elephants in tgs, but the compendium would be absolutely devastatingly incomplete without Lottie, a member who only ever showed up for one panel in Chapter 10 page 17 - in the original version which no longer exists.

So. would anyone like to donate any screenshots or saved copies of that page from before it got reworked?

(It was that one panel where Hyde is locked in the basement tied to a chair, and there were girls outside the slotted door keeping an eye on him and passing him food. Lottie was the doorwoman leaning against the door, I believe with a casual demeanor and her arms crossed. The entire panel would be preferable, but if anyone has any cropped screenshots of just Lottie saved anywhere, I would be most grateful for them as is.)

[ghcstao3]

second time i'm putting ghost and tommy in a band just because

but them being pretty big in the underground punk scene but never straying from that local-band vibe even after they've attracted a decent following. their plan had never been to go big, just to make music, so that's what they do.

johnny's a frequenter of underground shows, and he just so happened to catch word of one when he's in manchester for whatever reason. so of course he goes, uncaring if he knows any names, because music is music, and he's just there for a good time.

when simon and tommy's band comes onto the stage, johnny is absolutely enamoured with the band. somehow it's just about everything he likes all meshed into one act, and while the frontman is energetic, and has seemingly perfected that line between professional and amateur in his sound, and the drummer and guitarist all the same—johnny's eyes are on the bassist the entire time.

his smeared eyeliner and half-obscured face, his messy hair and bloodied knuckles like he'd just come fresh from a fight before playing. his casual stance and dark eyes and—it's no wonder johnny subconsciously worms his way to the very front just to gaze up at the man from up close.

shame johnny hadn't caught the band's name when it had been announced. he feels a sudden need to follow them along all of their shows.

which, speaking of—once the set is over, johnny does the stupid thing of trying to find where the band heads off to. he'd done it once or twice before, and usually shows like this lend the acts to spend time with the crowd as a part of it at some point, so it's not... so difficult.

he doesn't end up finding the band—at least, not all of it.

because in the alley of the venue, johnny finds the bassist smoking, face now fully exposed as he brings a cigarette to his lips.

with nothing to lose but his dignity, johnny sidles up to the man as casually as he can manage, as if he hadn't just become a big fan.

"great gig," johnny says. "how long have you been playing?"

the bassist barely spares him a glance. "few years now. s'there somethin' i can help you with or what?"

his voice is a pleasant rumble in johnny's chest, as low and steady as the bass itself. his tone is indifferent, though, and johnny thinks to change that.

"only lookin' for a name." johnny shrugs, leaning perhaps a bit too close.

the bassist finally looks to him, a mild confusion written into his face. up close, his eyes are impossibly darker, voids johnny thinks he could gladly sink into.

"simon," he eventually supplies. "that it?"

johnny grins. "maybe. you have other shows coming up? haven't heard you guys before, and i have a bit of a thing for live music."

simon stares at him a moment. if johnny watched close enough—which he certainly does—he'd notice the subtle upwards quirk of simon's lips.

"we have gigs planned, yeah. you have a pen? i'll write the date for you."

johnny frowns, just a bit, before searching his person for something to write with.

the best he manages is an eyeliner pencil, but apparently it's good enough for simon to take johnny's arm to write on his skin. the drag of the pencil across his skin is harsh, though it's hardly simon's fault.

johnny watches simon's face the entire time, the lit cigarette dangling from his lips. he never once questions why he couldn't have just been told the date.

"try not to rub it," simon advises once he's finished, straightening his back and offering the pencil back to johnny. "see you around..."

"john," he says. he tucks the pencil away, never bothering to glance at his arm.

"johnny," simon decides instead, taking one last drag of his smoke before snubbing it out on the brick wall and flicking it to the ground. he brushes past johnny and disappears back inside through a door johnny hadn't previously noticed.

it isn't until much too late that johnny looks down and sees that a date had not, in fact, been written on his arm—but rather, a phone number.

cheeky bastard.

the worst part is that johnny still doesn't know the band's name.

[icycoldninja]

Dude I absolutely adore your Sephiroth angst fics, they're such good reads! I was wanting to request some angst with him around the Nibelheim Incident, his s/o accompanies him but ends up on the fire and he realises at the last second if thats a decent idea. Thank you again for all the quality fics :D

Thank you so much, it's always awesome to hear ppl lovin' them! I'm so psyched that people are finally requesting more Sephiroth 😁 Here you go and please enjoy.

Hold on (Sephiroth x Reader angst)

You had arrived at Nibelheim far later than Sephiroth and the others as Shinra, for some reason, had decided to put you in a separate truck and send you to join them at a later date. That, combined with the fact that the truck was overrun by monsters halfway through the trip, delayed you even furter, though that didn't stop you from coming up with a way to turn a disappointing situation into a happy one. You intended to surprise Sephiroth with your unexpected arrival, but unfortunately, you happened to set foot past Nibelheim's gate at the worst time imaginable.

You couldn't believe your eyes when you got there; the entire town and the woods surrounding it was on fire. Tall, bright orange and red flames shot up from the treeline, iluminating the sky with an ominous amber glow, meanwhile, terrified villagers ran out of their smoldering homes, scrambling for the path that led down to the road where they hoped they would be safe. Others were desperately trying to escape exhausted militiamen trying to guide them to safety, their terrified minds fixated on freeing a trapped or long dead family member crushed under the rubble.

As you beheld the scene, your mind grew frantic and began to spin with questions. What happened here? Where did this massive fire come from? Where were the SOLDIERS? Why weren't they helping the civilians? More importantly, what about Sephiroth, was he alright?

Panicking, you raced into town, ignoring the loud warnings of the rescue volunteers as they tried to keep you from rushing into your doom. You sped through the village, leaping over crackling logs and ducking falling planks of wood. The billowing gray smoke stung your eyes and burned your lungs, drying out your throat and making the simple act of breathing very difficult. Choking and hacking, you continued further into the blazing town square, soon arriving in the center of the smoldering village, where you were met with a collapsed water tower that burned just as brightly as the many crumbling homes around you.

"Sephiroth!" You screamed, voice hoarse and cracking. "Where are you?!" Shouting was a grave mistake. Your already irritated throat burned with the effort, causing you to double over, coughing so violently, you saw stars.

The flames were rising even higher now, to the point that the world seemed to be trapped in a cage of red and orange streaks. It would have been beautiful, had the smoke emanating from these flames not been choking you to death.

You were starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy and your knees were quivering fiercely, a sign you wouldn't last much longer. You were now faced with two choices: you could either stumble back out of town, and join the fleeing civilians, or continue onward in your search for Sephiroth.

Of course you chose the latter; how could you live with yourself if you didn't?

"Sephiroth!" You cried, again, still pushing forward despite your shaking knees. "Where are you?!" You suddenly tripped over a rock, hitting the dirt much harder than you expected. Your bones ached; they were probably badly bruised now, but that didn't stop you from continuing to claw at the dirt in a vain attempt to stand, key word being "attempt". Your limbs, which felt like wobbly twigs, gave out without much resistance. You crumbled to the ground once again and lay there as scorching hot walls of fire spiraled out of control all around you.

There was so much smoke now, it made your stomach churn and breathing painful. You knew you weren't going to last much longer, but what could you do to save yourself? You couldn't even move. Tears began to well up in your burning eyes and slide down your cheeks as fear and worry overwhelmed you. It didn't matter what happened to you; all you wanted was to know Sephiroth was safe.

As if the universe were answering your plea, you faintly caught sight of a pair of black combat boots slowly trooping across the scorched ground.

"Sephiroth?" You rasped, voice barely audible over the crackling of burning wood.

"This cannot be...Y/N?" The pair of black boots hurried towards you with speed you'd never witnessed before. In seconds, the silver-haired male was at your side, strong, gloved hands gently lifting you up and turning you over. Your hazy, smoke-clouded eyes blinked at him slowly as you struggled to focus on his worried face and those beautiful, yet strangely sad green eyes that were so intently focused on you.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The longer you looked at him the more you realized how different he seemed. There were dark shadows under his eyes; shadows you don't remember seeing. There was also a strange, almost insane gleam to his eyes, like a light shining at the end of a dark hallway.

"Sorry I'm a little late," You chuckled, coughing. "Surprise."

"You fool." Sephiroth mumbled, shaking his head at you. A few locks of his long, soft hair fell over his shoulder and cascaded onto the ground, the shimmering silver a stark contrast with the dark, scorched ground.

"Why did you come all this way? You should have remained at the entrance, or left. You know it isn't safe." You shook your head, smiling.

"I...wanted to...make sure....you're...ok..." You reached up and gripped his hand as tightly as you could; your head was getting lighter and lighter and you needed something to ground you.

"You...were concerned? For me?" Sephiroth sounded as if he couldn't believe you cared about him, which was odd because you always showed and told him you did.

"Of course..." You replied, realizing how hard speaking was growing. "I love you...why...wouldn't I be concerned?"

"Don't you know what I am?" Sephiroth asked, shaking you slightly. "Do you not understand with whom you are conversing?"

"You're...the love of....my life, Seph...that's...good enough...for me..." You punctuated your words with another series of violent coughs. Sephiroth could see your already labored breathing was worsening and could tell by the way you were squinting that your eyes burned so much you couldn't keep them open. When he felt your grip on his hand loosen, he felt true fear for the first time in his life.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't let go. Do not let go. Hold on to me. I...I will get you to safety." He was breathing heavily himself, his heart pounding in his hands. This wasn't supposed to happen. You shouldn't have come here. He couldn't lose you, not here, not anywhere. He refused to lose you. He was the Chosen One, come to reclaim the Planet, and you--you were to be his beloved bride. He couldn't lose you here, he refused to even consider the possibility!

"I can't hold on," You whispered, shaking your head weakly. "I...I'm slipping..." Your vision blurred, but you were vaguely aware of something warm and wet falling onto your face--tears, perhaps?

"Please...don't go...I need you," Sephiroth said, voice brittle, grip around your hand tightening. "Hold on. Please."

"I can't," You repeated, feeling consciousness starting to fading away; the sensation akin to falling asleep. "I'm sorry...I...just...want you to know...I love...you."

Your entire body had gone numb and cold now; you couldn't see and your throat hurt too much for you to even talk. It was a good thing your vision had left you, because it meant you couldn't see the horrified, pained expression plastered on Sephiroth's face as he desperately tried to keep you awake--but his efforts were in vain. You were gone.

[fun-k-board]

TMNT : Mutant Mayhem X Gender Neutral Reader dating headcanons

Note(s): 2003 has me in a chokehold so I might accidentally mix their personalities, also you can probably tell who my favourite turtle is 💀

I've only seen this movie once, and I can't afford to go to the cinema again so I'm sorry that I didn't write a lot!

Leonardo

Leo basically has a full time job of trying to impress you, one time he even tried to drive a car and do tricks for you. It, unsurprisingly, went so bad that Splinter grounded him for a week.

While Splinter has always dug in that humans were dangerous and hateful, which is semi true, meeting April and you have diluted Leonardo's faith in that. He realises that you're just... People. People who make mistakes, who need to change, and who largely, have changed.

He likes learning about things you take for granted everyday, what was school like? Have you ever been to a restaurant? Do you like going outside a lot? Do you have a pet? Etc, etc.

Leo needs to try really hard in school because he's not naturally talented in science or math like Donatello, so he appreciates any help you can give him! He surprisingly likes homework, he views it like training, sort of like something to improve his skills.

He 100% searches a 'how to flirt' wikihow and gets absolutely slammed by his brothers for trying some of the worst pickup lines in history on you.

Leonardo wants to train you with self defense skills if you don't know any already, he puts on the training videos that Splinter used to learn himself and teach Leo and his brothers, so that you two can at least spend time by training together.

Raphael

Despite loving violence and fighting, he's always happy and his rage is never directed at you, he even tries to get you to let out your anger by training sometimes.

If you don't know how to fight, or don't want to learn, then he's perfectly fine with just giving you one of his sais and letting you stab a punching bag with it, or something.

Raph occasionally gets into more friendly fights and sparring matches with his brothers or classmates, he's always bragging to you about how cool he was and how awesome it was to fight.

He likes it when you initiate hugs or hand holding, it's not that he's embarrassed or doesn't want to initiate affection, or even have it at all, but Raph isn't the best at guessing what you want without outright asking. Which he does do a lot, but he feels awkward constantly asking for a hug, and he lets you know that he's always up for one.

Raphael doesn't want you in danger, but he does 100% egg you on to participate in fights and pull some chaos, even if minuscule.

Donatello

He's a complete dork and LOVES to try and impress you with knowledge on your favourite musical artists, TV shows and movies, etc, etc. Donnie gets super into anything you're into, and he even tries to subtly get you interested in things like K-pop or science, if you're not interested in them already.

Always rants about his interests, he could go on for HOURS about the hidden messages in a music video, especially when he can get out more often and speak to more people about what he likes.

He's so curious about humans and their biological functions, don't be weird not like that, he always used to watch documentaries to Splinter and his brothers confusion.

Donnie frequently imagines what life would be like without a shell, with his skin a different texture, with his ears all weird and sticking out, he constantly asks you questions about living as a human.

He adores it if you know a lot about biology, especially if you know about turtle biology, even if he and his brothers are different than regular turtles for obvious reasons.

Donnie loves holding your hand, whenever he's nervous, or if you're nervous, he likes squeezing your hand and just holding it for a while. Even if it's kind of awkward because of his three fingers.

Michelangelo

Mikey loves showing off his ninja skills to you. Oh, you're just watching a movie? Watch him do the stunt from that one scene about fifty times.

He doesn't have much of a 'taste' in movies or music, he just sort of watches whatever captures his interest. His most watched media consists of an intense crime documentary and Pingu.

Mikey loves hugging you, no matter what you're doing he just (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠) His favourite way of hugging you is from behind, because then you can do whatever you want and he isn't bothering you, but he also gets to give you a hug.

As the youngest sibling, Michelangelo loves getting you involved in pranks that involve screwing over his brothers. He will beg you, BEG YOU, to let him stand on your shoulders to place a bucket of water on top of a door, to help him dye his brothers masks the wrong colours, basically anything!

He loves making friends and would like to meet your friends and family, that is if you have any or have a good relationship with them, and if you do, he's trying to impress them so he can in turn impress you.

He also expects you to get along with his family, you don't need to constantly hang out with them, but he likes to have the knowledge that his family accepts and trusts you, he also likes to have the knowledge that you trust his family.

While not being the most perfect and strong guy, he has full respect for you and he shows it in semi unconventional ways. Mikey constantly likes to play video games with you, and while he's never been able to play the newest or most expensive, he may or may not steal a game or two just for you.

If you have a console, PC or even just a god damn phone that can handle a decent game, expect you two to play for HOURS.

What shows both his family and you that he does truly love you is when he gives you a slice of his pizza, if you're vegan or allergic to his favourite flavour, he'll order what you can eat instead of what he wants.

His brothers genuinely have a full hour of just staring in shock at you and him when that happens.

[spiriteddreams]

i'm sorry (liar)

you should have known, fake dating never ends well. but what can you do when you are just a fool in love? Pairing: Al-Haitham x Reader Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort Word Count: ~1k

“because i love you!” you cry out, hands shaking in front of your chest as if you were cradling the pieces of your heart. you think you can feel the pieces in your hand, shattered, worn, crumbling and yet you still try to hold them to your chest. “i love you more than i should and it’s so hard to keep pretending every single day that i don’t! i can’t keep pretending to be in this… relationship with you when my feelings are on the line! it’s eating me up inside and i’m sorry! i’m sorry… okay?”

it’s silent. the worst kind of silence. the one that lives in the shadows and slithers behind your back to taunt you, leering in your face with cruel eyes and a twisted smile. it tightens around your chest until you choke on air and it jolts you back to the present. but he just stares at you, and that blank expression on his face stings.

“i— i don’t know what to say.”

“of course you don’t.” your laugh is dry and unfamiliar, shocking yourself and him. he swallows thickly, eyes searching yours to read the emotions that are clear across your face. he sees the hurt, the humiliation, the puffy eyes and previously shed tears. because of him. and when you speak to him, it’s void of the gentleness and grace he was once so accustomed to. you realize it doesn’t sound like you at all, devoid of any emotion. “you never do, do you? here i am, spilling out my stupid feelings in front of you like an absolute fool and—“

“what am i supposed to say, sorry? i’m sorry, okay?” his chest heaves, as if they took all the breath from his lungs, and you want to take that word from his lips and crush it in your palm. he doesn’t deserve that word. sorry.

it is poison on his tongue, slippery but sweet, false comfort that you once thought you could indulge him. he says “sorry” like it’s just a word. it holds no weight when it falls from his tongue. because al-haitham is a man of schemes, and more often than not, the word “sorry” is just a word on a script. he plays the part well, too well in fact. he lures in his prey and when the time is right, makes a swift departure in the form of an excuse.

“i simply wish to return back to my life before this disaster,” he had shrugged. “i’m simply a feeble scholar, i have no intention to cause any extra unnecessary stress in my life.”

you scoff, “unnecessary stress? is that what you call this… relationship?”

he’s silent. you take that as your answer.

“you can’t tell me this isn’t fake anymore.”

he sighs and looks away, “we entered this relationship for the benefit of us both, to get people to stop asking questions and to steer them in a different direction. if you knew that this was going to happen you should have said something beforehand.”

what do you say to that? what do you say to someone who believes himself to think so logically and plan so far ahead that any emotions gathered and strung up along the way aren’t even factored in? and the worst part is, you know why he’s doing this. because al-haitham has always valued logic over emotion, and whether or not he might have the hint of the same shared feelings as you, it’s near impossible to tell by the way he is so nonchalant in brushing you off. it’s as if he’s trying to get rid of this, get rid of you before he realizes his own feelings. perhaps it’s your turn to get rid of him before they worsen.

“whatever,” you turn around to leave. “i won’t waste your time any longer.” you don’t see the way your words sting him and the way his mouth twitches downwards. he doesn’t quite like the way your back faces him, or the tenseness in your muscles, or the way you scoff in what sounds like disappointment to his ears. the door opens and shuts before he can process what happens, and he’s left to grasp at air.

//

“i’m sorry.”

you stare at him thoughtfully, eyes moving ever so slightly as if reading words off of his face. he hopes those silent words are enough to convince you. now, months later, he finds himself at your door with those same words on his lips. they taste different now, more bitter and desperate, laced with months worth of distraught emotions at the distance you had slowly but surely put between the two of you. 

“do you even know what you’re sorry for?” you sound tired but calm. he opens his mouth to respond, but closes it when nothing comes out. there’s so much to apologize for and yet he doesn’t know where to start.

“it’s fine, al-haitham.” the smile that crosses your face doesn’t meet your eyes. it’s like you know what he’s trying to say through the gaps of silence, and yet you refuse to hear it. the sharp shake of your head is like a snapping thread, like you’ve yanked his end from his hands and have started to curl it around yours, as if to bandage your shattered pride. but your pride has long since healed, at least from what al-haitham can tell. now it is his own feelings and mess of thoughts that he’s left to piece together. but the bandage and glue that you used to piece yourself back together is still held tightly in your hands and he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

“don’t you think it’s rather too late to be searching for closure?” you hum, tilting your head thoughtfully. al-haitham realizes he doesn’t like this side of you. you’re too calm, too logical, too ignorant of the war of emotions that rages on in his head. he wants to go back, jump through time, pray to the archons he once rolled his eyes at and ask if he could have one chance to fix a mistake that he hadn’t realized would have spiraled into this mess. he knows now what it means to be in love with someone who won’t love you back. you, don’t love him back, not anymore. he thinks it’s hard to learn how to love. and maybe if he had learned sooner, he might not be the fool who realized too late. he wishes he would have known sooner and he wishes you still feel the same.

or, perhaps you're both liars.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: idk sorry about the bad ending

[bqstqnbruin]

Drunk Texts

Me? With another fic? This fast? Ground breaking.

Anyway, this has been sitting in my google drive for way too long and I finally finished it. It's inspired by Drunk Texts by New Rules.

Thank you to my besties @kat-hearts @raysofcrosby @matthewtkachuk and @assmanselke for reading this, but they have no idea what the ending is so hahahaha

If there are typos, I'm so sorry, Grammarly is being weird

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, swearing, the ending

WC: 5k ish

Flashbacks are in italics

_______________________________________

The sun was up, there was a bird outside his window happily chirping, the city below his apartment was alive and bustling on the beautiful late summer day.

Anthony felt like he wanted to die.

He couldn’t remember having a worse hangover, trying to wrack the usable part of his brain to figure out if he had anything besides alcohol the night before. He was pretty sure he had at least one glass of water, thinking he had maybe a bite of food but that proved to be way too little to counteract what was probably a bottle or two of wine and whatever else his teammates had given to him to drink last night. 

He sat up from bed, his head pounding as he rubbed his eyes and searched for his phone, haphazardly on his nightstand under what he could only hope was his own underwear and not someone else's. If some other guys boxers were there, Anthony knew he had more than one problem to deal with. 

It was the same thing every single time he went drinking after a bad night, his room and probably the rest of his apartment left in a disaster, but the worst part were the drunk texts he knew were sent by him the night before. Drunk texts sent by anyone were horrible, incoherent and easy to blame on being inebriated, but his were always exceptionally bad. 

Anthony got out of bed, his head pounding with every movement he made. He knew he had to check his phone at some point. Delaying it any longer would just lead to more issues with his life later on.

The one person he hoped he hadn’t texted was right at the top of his messages, a message that somehow combined French, English, and absolute gibberish into one text, undoubtedly from him, showing up in the preview. 

He tapped the messages with Scarlett, the last girl he dated, and still couldn’t get out of his head. She was, unfortunately, used to his drunk or stupid texts, Anthony unable to form a proper thought when it came to her.

‘I like you’ was the only text he could decipher at first glance, an “oh fuck,” escaping his lips while he tried to piece together why his teammates would let him not only drink so much, but keep his phone on him the entire time. 

“Who is that over there?” Anthony asked, staring at the girl with long, dark hair, talking to one of his new teammates. 

“Uh, that’s Quinn,” Brock said, “your teammate.”

“No, the girl he’s somehow talking to,” Anthony replied.

“Not sure, I normally see Quinn with her when we come here, though. She always shows up when Quinn texts her,” Brock shrugged, “I think her name is Sarah? Sage?”

So she probably likes Quinn then, if she’s showing up when he asks. He shakes his head, “You only know that her name maybe starts with an S, don’t you?”

“Yep.” 

Anthony sighed, trying to take in the girl Quinn was talking to. He swore he had seen her before, something about her trying to work its way through his memory. 

“Go talk to her.” 

“What?” he asked, looking at his teammate.

“I promise you that Quinn does not have enough in him to pull a girl like that.” 

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” 

“Yes, that’s why I can say it. Now, go.” Brock practically had to shove Anthony away from the table. 

Anthony stood there frozen, staring at Quinn and this girl while his mind went a mile a minute as to how he was going to talk to her. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he thought to himself, ‘she’s just a girl, talking to Quinn. If Quinn can talk to her, so can I.’

He felt his entire body shaking under the weight of himself as he tried to make his way over to the girl and Quinn. He could just tell Quinn he wanted to buy him a drink, celebrate the win they had the other night, something, anything. 

“Hey, Tito,” Quinn called out, pulling Anthony from his thoughts. Quinn and the girl were staring at him, the heat rushing to his face as she smiled at him. “This is Scarlett.” 

Anthony knew he had to speak. She was staring at him. She was smiling at him. She was clearly waiting for him to say something to her, but all functions that his body possessed suddenly stopped, including the one where he was able to get out something as simple as, “hi.” 

“Um,” Scarlett started, Quinn standing to the side laughing at his teammate, “Quinn tells me you just moved here from New York?” 

“L-long Island, um, yeah,” he managed to get out, starting to think of all the ways he wanted to disappear into the Canadian wilderness out of embarrassment. 

“What’s it like there? What’s there to do?” she asked him, Quinn slowly inching away from them. 

“Uh, leave.” As soon as the words left his lips, he shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he would discover that the stupid things he said didn’t happen and were just a dream. He opened his eyes to see Scarlett biting her lip, trying not to laugh at him. 

She took a sip of her drink, not breaking eye contact and making Anthony’s heart skip in the process. “You’re either way too drunk to be talking to someone right now, or I, for some reason, make you really nervous.” 

Anthony lets out a sigh, a smile on his face. “What if I told you it was both?” 

There was something about the laugh that escaped her lips after he told her that that made him forget everything. He swore he blacked out while talking to her, but not from the alcohol. He had never felt more sober than that first time he met her. He remembered nothing about that night except the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, a crooked smile spreading across her face when she was flirting with him, the way he knew heat was rushing to her face, probably from the second hand embarrassment of him attempting to flirt back. 

“So, you and that girl looked pretty cozy last night,” Brock teased him the next morning after practice. None of them had been particularly happy that they were called for last minute drills, all of them sweating the alcohol from the night before more than anything else. 

“Are you in love?” Quinn teased, his voice dripping with that pre-teen gooeyness that got under Anthony’s skin.

“I just met her,” he started.

“Love at first sight exists, my friend,” Elias joins in, hitting Anthony hard enough on his back that he nearly fell out of his stall. 

“Dear god, I need to go back to New York,” Anthony groans, drowned out by the sounds of his teammates laughing. 

“There’s no way Long Island is better than here,” they kept going.

“We called it the ‘God forsaken island,’ growing up,” Quinn added, the guys laughing even harder as they continued to rib Anthony. 

“I liked you all better when you didn’t know me.” 

“You know we like you better when we make fun of you,” Elias tried to reassure him. “Have you at least talked to her since last night?”

“How would I do that?”

“You got her number?” Quinn questioned. 

Anthony tried to think back to the night before, failing to remember anything past his initial meeting with Scarlett and the absolute fear that he felt trying to talk to her in those first few minutes. “When did that happen?”

“Right after the eighth green tea shot.”

“You let me have eight?” 

“Scarlett kept buying. I wasn’t going to argue with her,” Quinn said, holding his hands up in defense. “We tried to get you to stop, but after the third one, you threatened to pour them all over Brock.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to let you get my white shirt dirty.”

“God forbid you get your five dollar Walmart shirt a little dirty with some alcohol.”

“Hey, no-”

“Guys!” Anthony finally cut in, his teammates all turning to look at him. “I don’t have her number.”

“Have you looked at your phone since last night?”

“Only to turn off my alarm when it was still on ‘do not disturb.’”

“Scarlett a hundred percent has texted you already if you haven’t texted her. She’s not one to wait for days for a guy to reach out to her,” Quinn told him. 

“I don’t think I like that you know so much about her,” Anthony mumbled.

“I met her the first weekend I was here my rookie year and she somehow has appeared in my life every weekend since. Check your phone.” 

The guys start to file out and head home, Anthony and Quinn sitting there by themselves. Anthony didn’t even know what he would say to her. How does he start a conversation with a girl he barely knows, who he was too nervous to talk to the night before? 

“You make her sound like a stalker,” Anthony sighed, trying to search for his phone. 

“I’ve known her for years and she hasn’t stalked anyone.”

“That you know of.”

“You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

“And that is the closest to being Gretzky that you’ll ever be.”

“Just check your phone. You were babbling like a dumbass the second you met her. I haven’t known you for as long as I’ve known her, but I definitely know you well enough that you don’t act like that around girls. Ever.” 

Quinn finally got up to head home, leaving Anthony alone in their locker room to do as he pleased. 

Anthony sat back in his stall, letting his head hit the back and getting engulfed in his clothing hanging behind him. What would he even text her? Is it too soon to text her? How could he send anything that would be good enough for her to want to respond?

He finally pulled out his phone to start going through his notifications. News from around the league, random DMs from people on Instagram, a text from his mom that he would forget to respond to until after she was asleep for the night, and a message from someone with just an emoji as their contact. It was the blushing emoji, Anthony remembering Scarlett telling him that her friends called her ‘Scar,’ and that was the first emoji that popped up when someone tried to search for her name. 

‘So how often do you get a girl's number and not text them back after that night?’

Anthony couldn’t figure out if the banging was just the throbbing headache he had or someone actually at his door. 

“What the fuck could you possibly be doing here this early?” he groaned at his teammates standing at this door. 

“It’s 2 pm,” Quinn says, pushing his way into Anthony’s apartment without an invite, coffees and bags of food in hand.

  “It was either us doing the wellness check or the police,” Brock adds, flopping down on the couch and sending Anthony’s phone on to the floor. 

“I don’t trust them to drive safely anywhere after they’ve spent the night drinking, so I had to come, unfortunately,” Elias tells Anthony, picking up his phone off the ground and handing it to him. “Has that girl texted you back yet?” 

Anthony’s head whipped up in shock. He really had no memory of last night. “Girl?” 

“Yeah, you know, those who identify with she and her pronouns?” Quinn says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Can you be a girl and not use those pronouns?” Brock asks while chomping on a bagel. 

“Very important questions for a later time, please,” Anthony interrupts, trying to look through his contacts to see if there was any name he didn’t recognize. “What girl?”

“You don’t remember?”

Anthony sat on the couch next to Brock, throwing his head back and letting out a guttural sigh. “Why would I remember anything from last night? That would make my life so much easier, and obviously, we can’t have that.” There was no way he could meet a girl and not remember her, right? There was no way he could possibly have drank that much alcohol to the point where he blacked out if he was with his teammates. 

“Not your usual type, but still pretty.” 

“She was hitting on Quinn first.”

“She was not.”

“She only stopped because you’re too dense to realize when someone is hitting on you.” 

“You could have had a relationship for the last five years if you picked up on that girl in the coffee shop.”

“That’s-” “Hello?” Anthony interrupts his teammates. “We were talking about me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Brock says. “You really don’t remember the girl who bought you like four of the drinks you had?” 

‘ ‘What are you doing today?’ came up on Anthony’s phone from an unknown number. 

Scarlett had called him immediately after he sent his text to make sure he was ok. “Ti,” came through his speaker, the nickname she called him that made his heart race for no reason. “It’s two in the morning, what do you mean what am I doing today?” 

“I want to see you today,” Anthony slurred, drunk from his night with his teammates after winning the first round of the playoffs. 

“Only if you promise to get some water right now,” she giggled. “You know you forget to hydrate when you’re celebrating.” 

“Come out with us. I want to see you.” 

“I am in bed already,” she said, hearing Anthony let out a drunken groan. “I’m going to be helping Brooke at her street fair stand in the afternoon, I can meet you after that for you to take me on a date then.” 

“I want to take you out now,” he whined. 

“Dinner tomorrow at your favorite restaurant. You’ll pay.”

“I’ll pay.” 

Scarlett hung up before Anthony could say anything else.

The next morning, he woke up on Quinn’s couch, Elias sitting on the chair, Brock on the floor for who knows what reason. He didn’t even remember getting back to Quinn’s apartment, let alone how he ended up on the couch. 

“Why are we here?” Anthony asked, no one in particular.  

“I was the most sober of the four of us,” he heard Quinn yell from the kitchen. 

Following his teammates' voice, he attempted to get up, a pounding headache nearly knocking him off his feet. “How did that happen?”

“I’m not sure, but I fucking hated it,” Quinn mumbled. “Even Elias threw up four times last night.” 

“It might be five times soon,” Elias said, stumbling into the kitchen behind Anthony. 

“Good morning sunshines,” Brock yelled, groans coming from all three guys in the kitchen. “What’s everyone doing today after we get breakfast together?”

“Plotting your murder,” Elias muttered massaging his head with his fingers as if he were trying to will the hangover away through that method.

“At least wait till our season is done for that.”

“I think I’m seeing Scarlett,” Anthony said, trying to remember if his conversion with her the night before was real or not. 

Quinn hands out cups of coffee, a confused look on his face. “Like, you’re seeing her right now? In the room with us?”

“What’s it like having two brain cells that constantly have to fight for third place?” Anthony groaned, “No, you dumbass, I mean tonight. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“You’re finally going to see her somewhere that isn’t a bar and in a state that isn’t halfway fucked?” 

“I actually think I’m going to join Elias in murdering you,” Anthony countered. 

“You can’t hang out with Scarlett if you’re in jail for murdering me.” 

“What are you going to do with her today?” Elias asked, changing the subject. 

“I have no idea. I might be paying for whatever it is we do, though.” 

Anthony spent the rest of the morning getting annoyed at his teammates as they teased him, calling him a simp for Scarlett when he had only interacted with her in person while they were both drunk. They hadn’t even been on a real date yet. Scarlett telling him to take her out that night was going to be their first. 

“Look, I need to impress her,” he cuts them off after they get back to Quinn’s place. “So either you are all going to help me figure out how I do that, or I’m going to put in for a trade request in the off season.” 

The four of them managed to put together a plan that didn’t make Tito want to kill them. The first step was to go to Prototype, her favorite coffee shop in the city, and getting drinks for her and Brooke and surprising them at Brooke’s street fair. He had their orders saved in his phone for god only knows what reason, but he knew they would come in handy at some point. 

“We should come, too,” Quinn said, grabbing his stuff to follow Anthony out the door. 

“You should not,” Anthony protested. 

“We want to see what you’re like out of your natural habitat,” Brock teased.

“What the ever living fuck does that mean?”

“I think it means they want to see you try to flirt with her when you’re sober,” Elias translated.

“No. Nope. You three are not coming.” 

“You don’t have a car to get yourself anywhere and you still don’t know how to navigate the public transit system here.” 

“Fuck.” 

Anthony reluctantly let his teammates take him where he needed to go, hoping that he could lose them at the massive street fair that Brooke and Scarlett were working. Thankfully, his teammates had the attention span of squirrels, soon veering off from him and leaving him to wander with a tray of three drinks, hoping to impress the girl he desperately wanted to see sooner than that night. 

“Ti?” he heard from behind him. “Anthony, what are you doing here?”

He turned to see Scarlett walking up to him from across a sea of people, her smile alone making him lose all brain function. He should have known she would have the same effect on him sober as she did when he was drunk. “I, um,” he started, trying to remember what his reasoning for being there even was to begin with. Why did he have to see her so early when all she did was make him freak out in the best way possible? “I brought you coffee.”

He practically spilled it down the front of her by shoving it into her chest. “Um, thank you?”

“And for Brooke, too.” 

“Oh! You haven’t even met her yet?” 

“You told me that you two have the same favorite coffee order from Prototype, so I just got two of them,” he told her, feeling his cheeks turn bright pink. 

She gave him a soft smile, clearly impressed that he would remember not only her order, just her best friends, no matter how simple they were. “I knew you were a good one.” 

“Do you want us to text her?” Brock asks, craning his neck to try to read over Anthony’’s shoulder at his phone. 

“We can tell her you’re a good one,” Elias offers, the first hint of sincerity coming through his voice that none of his other teammates had shown to him all night. 

“Or that you’re bad,” Quinn draws out. 

“I’m not a thirteen year old boy trying to text his middle school crush, Jesus Christ.” 

“Tell her you’re like him,” Quinn adds. 

“You’re Jewish, I thought you don’t believe in him,” Elias asks. 

“Well, yeah, but he was still a historical figure. We just don’t believe the religious aspect that-”

“Hey!” Anthony interrupts, again. “Am I just here as comic relief?”

“You have to be funny to be considered that.”

“Ok, I’m leaving,” Anthony gets up from the couch, only to be pulled back down by Brock.

“We’re teasing you. You know this. And we’re in your apartment, where are you going to go?” 

“What do I do?” Anthony groans, throwing his head back with his hands over his eyes. 

“Text her back or ignore her.” 

“No, I mean,” he groans again, “I texted Scarlett last night.” Much to his surprise, he’s met with silence from his friends for the first time that morning. “That’s what shuts you up?”

The three of them exchange worried glances, making Anthony’s heart race and head throb even more than the hangover already had. He knew drinking anything was going to make him do something stupid. He just didn’t think his teammates would also agree. 

He handed them his phone, letting them see the string of stupidity from the night before. 

“There’s no way you texted her all of this,” Brock said.

“You can literally see the texts on his screen,” Elias groans. 

“God, you’re an idiot,” Scarlett told him between kissing him, one hand on the back of his neck pulling him towards her, the other on his guiding it towards her waist. 

Anthony didn’t know what to say as he felt every inch of her, pulling her back towards his bed. He sat down, his lips still connected to hers. Scarlett straddled his waist, her fingers gracing the hem of his shirt.

‘God, this has to be perfect,’ raced through Anthony’s mind, every other thought that wasn’t about Scarlett unable to break through his brain. His heart started racing as the two of them took off his shirt, fiddling with hers next to slip it off over her head, Anthony wanting nothing more than for his lips to be back on hers as fast as possible. 

He moved her off his lap, gently pushing her onto her back. He took a moment, both of them catching their breath while Anthony’s heart continued to race. “Wow,” he let out, Scarlett giggling at him. “You are just.” He couldn’t find the words to describe who she was, his mind still blank from anything other than her name. 

“Do you want to…” she asked, drifting off, her eyes traveling down his body. 

“Oh, god, yes.” Anthony said, crashing his lips to hers, feeling her smile against his.

‘This has to be perfect,’ kept running through Anthony’s head as they stripped more of what they were wearing, piece by piece. ‘She’s perfect so this has to be perfect.’

 She was ready. He could feel she was ready. But Anthony?

“Hey, hey, wait,” she stopped him. “Are you ok?”

He hung his head down, her hands pushing his hair back off his face. “I’m so sorry.” 

“We can stop, if you want to,” her voice came out small, clearly upset. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, rolling off her, unable to look at her. The two of them lied there in silence, a long pause that made Anthony more anxious by the second. 

“Are we ok?” Scarlett asked, finally breaking the silence. 

Anthony stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to say. “Yes?”

He heard her sigh, getting up to put her clothes back on. “Let me know when you’re sure,” she said to him, leaving his room. 

As soon as he heard his front door shut, he covered his face with his hands, letting out a deep groan. He wanted it to be perfect. He had been trying so hard to make everything for her as perfect as he was able to make it. Why the fuck did he have to get into his head like that. 

Anthony reached for his phone, pulling up the group chat with his teammates. ‘Who can come here ASAP?’ he sent, putting his phone back on his nightstand without even waiting for an answer, rolling over immediately and pulling his sheets over his face. 

Anthony didn’t know how long he had been asleep, hearing his front door open while he was still in his bed, his clothing strewn across his floor. 

“Tito, where are you?” he heard Elias’s voice carry through his place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing himself out of bed to try to find something resembling pants before they could make it to his bedroom. 

“Tit-oh.” Quinn said, bursting through his bedroom door before he could fully get his sweatpants on. “Guys I found him.” “Jesus, Quinn,” Anthony said, nearly falling over. “You couldn’t wait?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead,” Brock said, spraying a mouth full of crumbs of who knows what everywhere, Elias following him with an annoyed expression. “We thought you were with Scarlett tonight.”

“He clearly was,” Elias said, gesturing to the mess that was his bedroom at the moment. 

“So what, you finished, she left, and your first thought was to call us?” Quinn asked, plopping down on Anthony’s bed, Brock following suit. 

Elias and Anthony took the floor, his three teammates trying to read the expression on his face. “No, I didn’t finish.” 

“With Scarlett?”

“I didn’t even,” Anthony started, putting his face back in his hands. “I didn’t even start.”

“Oh,” was all he heard from Elias, Brock and Quinn both silent for once. “We thought you really liked her?”

“God, yes, I do,” Anthony said. “This was supposed to be the first time we slept together and I fucked it up.” 

“That happens,” Elias shrugged. 

“It’s not even just that. She asked if we were ok and I couldn’t answer her.” 

“Why would you do that?” Quinn asked.

“I panicked. I’ve been panicking. Since the first time I saw her, I have been freaking out because she deserves more than what I can give her, and it fucks me up,” he let out, surprised he was even able to put anything into words. “I mean, Brock, you had to physically push me to her because I was frozen. Quinn stood there when I couldn’t even talk to her. We were all here the night I freaked out because I didn’t know how to text her, or what to do for our first date. I have been out of my mind about her since the second I saw her, and because of that I have fucked up so badly, I don’t know if she wants to see me ever again.” 

“Ok, you told her last night you wanted to see her,” Brock reads out. 

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“That night she left my apartment when we tried to…” Anthony trails off, not really wanting to recount the night again.

“What about the last time that you talked to her?” Quinn asks, handing Anthony his phone back. 

“She had called me one night after a game a few days later to say that she was sorry she left that night the way she did but she was upset that I didn’t have an answer for her.” 

“And?”

“And we talked it out, I thought we were fine, she said we would talk later, and neither of us reached out again.” 

“So you both ghosted each other until you sent her a bunch of drunk texts last night,” Quinn says.

Anthony groans, throwing his head back again. “Fuck, yes, Quinn. What do I do?”

“Well she hasn’t answered yet, so she either hasn’t seen it or also doesn’t know what to do.” 

“At least start with telling her you were drunk and that you’re sorry you sent all of those  texts,” Elias suggests. 

“Or we go over to her place and you ask her yourself.” The three of them look at Brock, Quinn, and Elias liking the idea, Anthony absolutely mortified. “I mean, you haven’t seen her in a while, you haven’t talked to her in a while, and drunk you clearly wanted to change that last night.”

“What about sober you, right now?” Quinn asks.

“Hungover me,” Anthony corrects, “Wants to go to bed until sober me reappears.” 

“Well that won’t be until tomorrow,” Brock points out, “So what would sober you want to do?”

Anthony smiles, his teammates knowing what he wants to do, what he’s wanted to do since that first night at the bar.

“I’ve got the keys,” Elias says, the four of them rushing out the door. 

Anthony felt his heart racing as Elias drove through the city, surprised he even knew where Scarlett’s building was. By the time he pulled up, his palms were soaked, his throat was dry, his legs anxiously unable to stop shaking. The guys had to practically throw him out the door, Anthony having no idea what the hell he was going to say. 

He managed to get up to her apartment, thankful that he was well known enough that the doorperson let him in, worried that the security was loose enough that they just let him in at the same time. He knocked on her door, finally starting to calm down as he waited for her. 

Anthony didn’t hear any movement in her apartment, knocking again after waiting for what felt like forever. He felt his phone buzz, a text in the group chat asking how it was going from Quinn, immediately followed up by Elias scolding him. 

He knocked a third time, hoping that she would answer. 

She wasn’t there. That, or she was ignoring whoever was at the door, given that he was showing up unannounced. 

He turns back around, heading back down to Elias’s car, letting them know he was waiting for the elevator. 

The door opened, Anthony moving to the side to let the person already there off while reading the texts that were flooding in from his teammates. 

“Anthony?” he hears, forcing him to look up from his phone.

“Scarlett,” he lets out, both of them smiling at each other. 

[myrkkymato]

tell me how u perceive ellabs (from a shipping standpoint) (DW I SHIP THEM TOO I JUST LIKE SEEING DIFF INTERPRETATIONS)

OOOO I LOVE ELLABS!! Hmmm I'm not good at writing but I'll try! 😆

First of all, I love tragic fictional stories with strong emotions and angst, which is why I love Ellie's character. The things she had to survive to only loose her only life-line, Joel, so early in her life when things were relatably stable and she needed time to process her past and the conflict with Joel makes me want to scream my lungs out. She didn't deserve any of that and I just want to give her all the comic books and hugs in the world and let her have a peaceful and safe life with Dina and JJ.

But the trauma she has makes her restless and self-destructing, jumping into the worst situations she can find. She keeps obbsessively searching for Abby and she even saved her?? What was that? And then let her go? Confusing af, but emotions are so confusing and I wouldn't be surprised if she has grown attached to her. But also I think Abby is the only one offering Ellie any real challenge and she might be addicted to that too...

Yeah I ship them because their absolutely feral and twisted dynamic is interesting and I love the good old enemies to lovers -trophy. What I picture their relationship to be like, wouldn't be very sane or safe but I still love reading all types of ellabs fics. I don't really want them to end up dating in the canon (also i don't want to buy any new games bc fuck neil)

Thank you anon for the ask!!! Can I ask what's your interpretation of them? ☺️

[transingthoseformers]

I'm not sure if this blog is a fan of bulkhead x bumblebee but i think the friends to lovers of it all is adorable. But throwing in a sparkling into the mix is even cuter 🥺.

I have this bulkbee romcom plot that goes like this:

Bumblebee accidently gets sparked after a drunken hookup with bulkhead and he's scared af. He doesn't want to tell his best friend that he's pregnant with his child. He initally wants to basically curl up in a hole and die. Optimus and prowl end up setting bumblebee straight. Bumblebee ends up crying in bulkhead's arms as he tells him about their little surprise. Bulkhead promises him that he'll take care of them both.

Cue a slow burn friends to lovers story. Bulkhead and bumblebee grow closer as bumblebee's pregnancy progresses further and further. He does all kinds of things for the mech. He builds the sparkling's nursery, he assures bumblebee that his changing body is still beautiful, and he makes sure that bumblebee remembers to take care of himself and their growing baby.

The others join on the ride too. Sari throws bumblebee a baby shower, prowl and bumblebee start doing yoga together, optimus gives bulkhead parenting books, and ratchet gives out of pocket health advice.

But bumblebee is hesitant of his and bulkhead's budding romance. After they have sex again while bumblebee's very close to his due date, bumblebee has the world's worst post nut clarity, where he assumes that bulkhead only loves him because of the sparkling, and suddenly disappears in the night. Since he's not supposed to travel much this late in his pregnancy, the team goes bananas trying to look for him.

After a few days of worrying and searching, the team end up getting an urgent comm from bumblebee, who sends out an SOS. Ratchet and prowl find bumblebee bumming it inside of an abandoned warehouse in a state of absolute disarray. The worst part is that he's in the early stages of emergence. Prowl makes bumblebee see the truth of bulkhead and his's relationship, while ratchet transports him back to base in the ambulance.

All ends well, luckily. Bumblebee is taken to the medbay, and makes up with bulkhead while absolutely fucked up on strong painkillers. Bulkhead sticks by him throughout the entire emergence, holding his small hand in his own. Bumblebee ends up giving birth to a big, green, and very healthy mechling with bulkhead at his side. They both are in absolute shambles when they meet him for the first time. They name him boulder (like the rescue bot).

Ohh awww

That's adorable

They've known each other for a while now, they care about each other, this is so sweet of them.

[noblehcart]

❝  i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling.  ❞

@lordofthestrix

" of course you do." the human remark went sailing far far over her head because she was mostly focusing on the fact that tristan de martel was there. in a limosine? or was it simply just a fancy car? she couldn't tell in the darkness of the side alley she stood in outside of a club, but if she knew anything about this client-? friend? it was that he had impeccable taste and the vehicle would be luxurious.

which at the moment was a bad thing. him arriving there unexpectedly was also a good and bad thing.

it all began with a misdial. a drunken misdial as she swiped through her phone, searching for someone to call to pick her up. and he picked up. the worst person who could've picked up- although it was really tied with that of her brother. at least if it was her brother then it would've been a scold and that would be that. tristan was a different matter. standing outside his vehicle as he stood there looking her over while she tried not to die of embarrassment she wondered just how much time had passed with their conversation.

when did she give him an address? she almost completely certain she didn't tell him where she was. the conversation floated in the alcohol washed memory in her brain as scattered sentences.

i'm sorry its a misdial.

-ohgod no i'm not telling you that.

her leaning back against the brick as she drawled drunkenly and honestly. i can't have your opinion of me drop aaany further tonight. its embarrassing enough to waste a really nice dress on a date that ditched me for someone else- i just really don't get the 'blond' appeal its a stupid insane cliche. but no-i'm not telling. i cannot share anything else.

she remembered smiling faintly, head tilting as she looked up to the sky and listening to the low polished resonance on the other end of the phone before speaking. weell...i rather like your opinion of me so far so let me save just a shred of my pride and reputation.

because thus far she had been a professional. perhaps a bit more friendly than the average professional, but he had encouraged that. he had encouraged a lot actually, but she was always trying to be clever, collected, witty and something to charming adjacent. tonight however was not a good night for her. tonight was supposed to be a cut loose. have fun. be entirely different. maybe embrace a touch of sin that he seemed to hint at within the lines of his words and between the shared glasses of wine. but that woman he shared wine with seemed far more suited to the collections she curated within a higher class or so she liked to think she did.

certainly not in the state she was in right now. horribly honestly drunk, slightly touched with lightheadedness and shifting in pinching heels as the shimmer of her short silvery dress reflected in the streetlight. this was the thin rebellious streak she rarely ever allowed to let loose and decided to do so because she rather hoped she'd have some 'reckless' fun with her former date. that is till he found someone else he thought more interesting and so she threw herself into several drinks before stumbling out to the safety of a quiet nearby alley to call for a ride. accidentally so tristan.

and so there he stood remarking about figuring her out. she knew what he figured out (that she was just an unremarkable average woman with little scruples or taste) and just tried to resign herself to the fact that she had absolutely ruined either a contract or a friendship or both.

"i'm pretty sure i told you i was going to call...someone- to come get me. you didn't have to come." when did she give him her location again? " how did you even get here- you...i...."

[inquisitorius-sin-bin]

5, 11, 23, 34

Thank you for asking!

5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

I love music but am the absolute worst at making playlists. It's more like a song or two here and there that reminds me of a piece. I made a feeble attempt at a Ride or Die playlist just now but it makes basically no cohesion.

I will say the plot of Ride or Die is more or less hinted at heavily in the song Kaisarion by Ghost (which is also, obviously, the name of Dralla's dactillion). It's about environmental destruction and loss of autonomy from an oppressive outside force.

And of course, what happens to Dralla in the end is... fairly explicitly written in the song.

Then Ghost treated me again, putting out another song (I See No Evil) that quite literally repeats our most beloved Pau'an's name (from this work).

I Tsi-no evil, eh?

And I've mentioned before that I can so perfectly hear the Plainsmen throat singing similar to music from The Hu.

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

I got really lucky when I was searching for plausible ships for the Pyrefalcons to use in Fly or Fall. I needed a formidible fighting/cargo vessel that could plausibly be on Utapau around this time period, that the former Grand Inquisitor would know a bit about piloting, and it needed to be able to handle a crew of at least 5 with bunks and sonics and whatnot.

Then I found this gem:

Okay, so even if these Gozantis were blown up, the Separatists at least had them in circulation over Utapau at some point, and it's feasible Wandering Star could have stolen one for their own purposes. The Grand Inquisitor was repeatedly shown on Admiral Konstantine's Gozanti during Rebels. He might have known enough about flying one to get by, and the plausible layouts I've found were definitely suitable for the work.

Also I once did some research for a dogfight I wrote between a Porax-38 Starfighter and the TIE Prototype Advanced v1. And honestly, the speeds these vessels are capable of in-atmosphere are insane. Marshall did some math, and realistically we never see these ships moving at speed because the TIE would get to maximum speed from a standstill in 0.01093 seconds. That's within 2.4 meters of forward travel. 20 consecutive TIE's could reach their top speed before a human could even react to the first one, and in that time it would have travelled over 2 football fields. Yet the Porax is listed as being 60X faster???

I see now why Porax fighters were mostly piloted by droids.

Which, of course, had interesting implications in the chapter. Given a certain Wandering Star character's predilections towards droids...

23. how do you deal with writers block?

Normally I make writing a habit and try to get through at least a few sentences every time I open the document, regardless of how I'm feeling. But I'm going to be really honest here. As far as I'm aware, not a single person is up to date with my works. I have received absolutely 0 feedback for the last 7 chapters I have written. Numbers like this are extremely discouraging for something a pour my entire heart and soul into.

And as a result, I haven't written more than a paragraph or two in weeks. I'm strongly considering stopping completely, which is why I try to do things like this to drum it up in myself to continue again.

34. how do you name characters and places?

Some of them come to me from dreams and whatnot. But for most of them, I like to use some kind of system. In Ride or Die, for example, we know Plainsmen are named after their fathers from whom they receive their marks, and borrow characters and syllables from other significant people to their parents' lives. I took a different approach with the dactillion, giving them latin-derived names because they are self-named, and the red robes of Pau'an and their armor shapes remind me of Roman aesthetics.

For places... much like names, I try to think of cultural influences and match phonetic sounds to other places on planet. But I never use name generators. I just come up with something with the right sound and mouthfeel for the character.

Like Reegale, it's like a hick accent mispronouncing "Regal". Which, given his history, is appropriate. It fits the sounds of other Pau'an names, but matches his story as the failed bastard son of a powerful gangster who is more of a common thug than his father. He has this warped sense of morality that makes him almost "gentlemanly" among his fellow gang members. But he's deeply too flawed and rash to really be a noble.

So yeah! Thanks again for asking! Here's hoping I can find the strength to keep writing through the tough times.

[seyaryminamoto]

Still about the Christmas Sequel to IHTBY, I know I’m mean for it, but it would be hilarious to see Azula actually pranking her parents and Zuko into believing she’s pregnant, when it seems that she and Sokka didn’t even banged yet, in this setting. And the way you depicted Ozai is exactly like I imagine him in a modern setting. Also liked Ursa and Azula’s dynamic. Ursa clearly loves her children, but I can’t blame Azula for resenting her. And poor Zuko seems to be clueless about everything.

x'DDDD oooh hell, the trolling potential there is terrifying. I really don't know if Ozai would ever recover from such a shock. The man is just perpetually paranoid about that concept, he'd believe it 100% and he'd probably make her take an ecography test to make sure it's not true even after she says she's messing around and that it's not possible x'D while Ozai is certainly grateful, deeeeeeeeeep down, that Azula decided to date a good-hearted nerd, of all things, he still is an idiot about protecting his daughter from the evil claws of... this good-hearted nerd xD

I'm glad my depiction of Ozai works for you in this setting! I do know that the popular take is to make Ozai an extremely problematic/abusive parent and spouse regardless of the setting... but I really wanted IHTBY to be a pretty idealistic AU, in general, without the heaviest clouds of canon baggage. Hence why I refused to kill off Kya, I saw that happen so many times in so many AUs and most the time it feels like people just don't think Sokka and Katara could be the same characters without Kya dying? Well, sure thing, because they'd be a lot less traumatized :'D in short, I don't see the drawback in keeping her alive, and having a chance to play with the concept of Kya's character is always enjoyable. So yep, writing a pretty positive and wholesome AU allowed me to think about what kind of man Ozai could be in a world slightly less ruthless than the one we see in canon. And while he's obviously not a great, perfect dude, he's evidently a lot less unpleasant than many other Ozais I've written. (Yakuza AU Ozai still takes the cake in the "worst Ozais I've written" contest, I'd say...)

As for Azula and Ursa's complicated dynamic... yeeeeeah, there's a lot to work with there, haha. I have to admit I've developed a very unexpected liking to the potential bond between these two in later years, because back when I wrote the original IHTBY? I was just soooo mad at Ursa after The Search, so the whole angle in IHTBY of Ursa being with Ikem in secret and cheating on Ozai was mostly about me exteriorizing my frustration with that comic :'D

... Then the joke was on me because then the sequel made Ursa something like an emotional core of the story. The jumpstart of her development, when Azula brings them the invitation to Sokka's family's party, kind of unleashed my brain when it came to her character's potential XD There's a lot that can be done with her character in a lot of settings (... not so much for me in comic-compliant ones, but anyway...), but one of the things that the Christmas story was absolutely going to feature was Ursa finally facing Azula directly, reconciliating with her (and of course, ending things with a certain someone...) and eventually finding her place in her own family once more. So... yeah. I really should get going and just write it xD

Zuko may be the most hilarious character in this story, unintentionally so. He's constantly clueless about things, and in remaining clueless, he's surprisingly way more innocent than anyone expects from him. He was going to have a very lighthearted subplot in the sequel, definitely lighthearted compared to the much heavier plotline with Ursa, so... if you enjoyed clueless Zuko, all the more reason for me to get on with writing the rest of it, haha. He's just really funny in this story, most of all because he's not even trying to be funny XD

[jaythelay]

Usually I'd take the effort to find sources and list them, for myself mostly, but it's just such a blatant situation. There's no reason to try because info will flood out and the reasonable will be obvious as it has been.

It is a LandSlide of failure for this party and I am absolutely all in. A real "just turn your brain off, everything is working out" situation.

What else do ya'll got!?!? PLEASE keep entertaining us normal people. God knows there's nothing better than seeing the holier than thou but completely contempt crumble under their hubris after stomping on EEEEEEVERYONE to get to this point.

No empathy. No sympathy. You forgone your humanity long ago when you stopped holding Dear Leader accountable. You praised, enabled, donated to, and defended a child rapist grifter with ties to only our worst enemies. Every grifter you praised turned into a pedophile or wife beater. Every single one.

You hoped like hell that if Dump was in those logs, people would ignore it. You hoped like hell the violent rhetoric would only be towards minorities and other political ideologies. It has been steadily R's against all.

Ya got caught up in the game of hate cults and damaged the fuck out of the world, permanently making social differences dangerous situations, killed dating scenes and public locations, you killed safety and trust in our fellow man. Ya lost everything and gained nothing but everyone's contempt and laughter.

Go message your families an apology and be better. Because the game is over. Ya lost. You imploded in on yourselves. And Not One Soul has an ounce of sympathy. You pushed friends and family away, pulled friends and family from their friends and family, for a cult of lies. An internet hate mob that seemingly never ends.

You called yourselves domestic terrorists. You told women they don't deserve rights or bodily autonomy. You're scared of virtual and real women being trans, you told every race you believe they should be enslaved, you aligned with nazis, you align yourselves with our country's threats, you bullied children online for being cringe, you created communities that turned on themselves into doxxing and violence. Damn near every talking head has a police report involving a child or woman. Ya raided the capitol on J6th, ya made community after community, game after game overwhelmingly toxic, and then finally you tried to assassinate an ex-president and current republican candidate, you failed, again, pathetically, and now all that's left. All ya got in that little tank of lies and Larps, is that the shooter, before he was able to vote, when he was 17, in 2021 3 years ago, donated 15$ to a liberal group. (He registered republican long after) Congrats. (Claps for you)

Today is great. I got a real pep in my step. Thank you for the wonderful season finale. What a display! What a display. What can you do next??? That notch is reaching the end of the timeline, ya still got time to try again! Maybe not the murder thing tho, as is Literally Always your rhetoric. Can't say that dems calling him a threat to the nation did it, because it was a republican that did it. Because republicans and Dump only have violent rhetoric until something happens to them, then they pretend to have empathy and weewy weewy hate what dems are saying (oh no! they're upset he missed! Remember when Dump was going to send the military to our houses to search for "illegal immigrants"?)

Perhaps ya'll can stop being so mad and scared. Idunno. Might just wanna leave politics all together if I was ya'll. There ain't no recovering from this. Ya chose to be ignorant and because of that you're lost as all hell reading conflicting lies from your own community. r/conservative is in a frenzy hoping to god it doesn't get worse and impossible to obscure the truth. And all they got. ALL THEY GOT. is that their party member once donated to liberals when he wasn't even able to be registered to vote. Incredible.

I'm gushing. GUSHING! Just delighted. Nothing. Nothing has worked out for the domestic terrorists since Dump took over and they let crazies in. All they can do is point at old man ass joe biden and try to say he's as crazy, corrupt and bombastic as Dump, and while for sure he is a genocider, he's boring. He's stale.

They're pointing at Palpatine and then a generic 83yo man and saying they both wield infinite power.

Rambling rambling rambling. I'm just extatic that these idiots really are trying the 15$ angle. I was a bit bored, even they know that's a weak angle. BUT IT'S ALL THEY GOT! They still had time to say ANYTHING else! Anything that DOESN'T point RIGHT BACK TOWARDS THEM.

They could've lied about any number of things yet again! They know it won't work! It's too big! Too many eyes! There's actively NO CONNECTION OTHER than the fact republican rhetoric lead to a republican attempting an assassination upon the republican candidate and ex-pres!

I HAVE TO STOP. I'M JUST SO EXCITED THEY REALLY HAVE NOTHING! ALL WE HAVE TO DO IS KEEP MOCKING THE SITUATION AND R'S ARE GONE! NO SERIOUSNESS, ONLY LEVITY! ONLY HUMOR!

LOOK AT DUMP'S BALD ASS HEAD! HAHAHA god I love politics again.

[mcytblr-archive]

SORRY I know I keep sending you stuff, but I JUST remembered very specific localized mcytblr trend in november-december? Of 2020. There were like. Two or three explicit fics on ao3 posted or popularized around the same time of dwt with a glow squid? I have my posts where it became a thing but for like one week people were constantly talking about the crazy fics with dwt and random very specific things. I think there was a sponge and an enderman too, and there was no conversation, just half of mcytblr being really laughably shocked at its existence.

And (this part is a little disturbing) then there was the fic in the minecraft tag during November 2020 that for weeks was at the very top of the recents tab because the author kept changing the posted date containing like all of the worst things and it had everyone putting up warning posts about it because it was so terribly triggering

AND there was the discussion during exile, when dwt brought up putting cc/c markers in front of creator names to differentiate, where they started calling it lore instead of plot or story and people started posting really sad posts about how they missed calling it the old thing, and that they were using the word lore wrong.

If I remember anything else I will just put it in a huge post and post it in like a month so I don't go overboard I'm sooooo sorry this blog has just unlocked too many memories. Not drawing kristin fat discourse. Whatever was going on with the is fundy-dwt marriage actually canon or is George a homewrecker. That one schlatt thumbnail. Racoon tommyinnit and the chat personifications. EVERYTHING that happened with ranboo and the /p /r wiki edits. The Sapnap George Hannah goes to tubbos house and nearly kills Michael _ and then eret has to go and hide him, oh my gosh it's not even important stuff it's just everything.

no, this is fantastic! i'd completely forgotten about it, but yes, the glow squid fics absolutely happened. i can even try to find the fics, it should be fairly easy-- ao3 has a MUCH better search function than tumblr, as well as letting fics be orphaned instead of deleted.

as for the other fic, i do vaguely remember it-- iirc, it definitely involved patches (dream's cat) and possibly his sister. i think i read it all the way through once, rubbernecking at a car crash style, but i don't recall enough about it to be absolutely sure.

something i just remembered because you brought it up; there was also the "The ___ Fic" series, which was a series of gory, often sexual fics about the dream team. the ones i can remember are "the toe fic" and "the teeth fic", but there were at least ten of them in total.

as for putting everything together in one big post, i would absolutely love that! if you tag me in it when it gets posted, i would absolutely reblog it; it's one thing to archive firsthand posts from the time period, but retrospectives and starting a community dialogue can be instrumental to preserving the things that either weren't saved or were considered so ubiquitous as to not merit an explanation.

[two-sides-samecoin]

I absolutely hate how in all of Steve's ships, he always gets the short end of the stick, canon, and fanon alike. Like Steve canonically just wants to be loved. It's shown how much he desires it and how much love he has to give towards his partners (like in s2 where he wanted to build his life around Nancy). And yet people take him and put him into borderline abusive situations, where he constantly gets belittled or made fun of. His dreams of having a big family are laughed at and not taken seriously, when his entire character in ST revolves around love and found family. I'm just so sick of it. Nobody in fanon truly has Steve's back when he gets into relationships. Robin acts ooc in favor of her own relationship or sides with Eddie idk why.

Steddie truly is H//rringrove 2.0 it's annoying bc it could have had potential.

Stonathan after s2 doesn't make much sense either. Like from both povs. Jonathan still doesn't like Steve, which fine he doesn’t have to take his apology in s1. He hates what Steve stands for (he's judging him based on popularity) and for being Nancy's ex. Steve feels neutral towards him after s1, but then Jonathan willingly cheated with Nancy. I doubt he wants to date him after that. They are not friends, and the basis of their relationship would be Nancy bc they are both romantically involved with her, which isn't a strong enough foundation imo. I know they are aus where none of that happens, but I can't really look past it. Maybe I lack creativity and imagination.

Anyway, I don't ship Steve with anyone because the fandom doesn't get him and puts him into the worst situations. I only ship him with my very own OC, who would kill anyone with Robin if they would disrespect him in the way the fandom does lmao. But yeah, I usually don't ever read any shipping fics bc they are usually ooc. I only love to read Stobin fics or any fics with the kids and his sibling relationships with them.

ngl steve ships for the fandom are just ‘how much can we shit on steve and show how we have an incredible bias and show how much we hate him’. like that’s the vibes i’m getting all the time. and yeah it’s insane how steve ships are just like you said where steve gets the short end of the stick. honestly people are just allergic to giving steve what he wants because they hate him! lmaooo steve antis want to shit on us saying that ‘wow they over exaggerate the hate steve gets’ I PROMISE YOU WE ARENT BECAUSE WHENEVER I TRY TO SEARCH FOR STEVE CONTENT ITS JUST ABOUT STEVE BEING IN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS OR WORSHIPPING THE GROUND HIS PARTNER WALKS ON! i just want steve to be loved and fanon wont even let him be loved by his besties either 😭😭😭😭 him being with his own best friends in canon is just ‘okay how much can we verbally abuse steve and constantly dismiss his own boundaries’. honestly how people react with robin and steve being best friends makes me the most mad because robin in fics/headcanons doesn’t even act like a best friends to steve. it’s to the point where i want to yell at steve to drop her as a friend with how fanon portrays their friendship

legit steddie did have a lot of potential and then that got ruined hardcore

honestly i never understood stonathan even in season 1! especially because so many jonathan stan’s were (and still are) so anti steve! which genuinely makes shit sense like why do you want your favorite character with another character that you absolutely hate? but yes from both sides it makes no sense whatsover for them to be together. legit jonathan at murray’s place brings up steve and then ignores the fact that he himself talked about steve. also ps i’m so sick of people calling that not cheating THEY CHEATED! just own up to it and fuck off. honestly i can’t look it past either in aus where it doesn’t happen. honestly steve and jonathan are so different to me that i can’t see them working past two weeks (same as how i see ronance)

same i don’t ship steve with anyone! unless it’s an oc that i create! but yeah i just can’t see steve with anyone in canon. i do read sometimes oc x steve focs but also half the time they’re just like ‘okay steve constantly has to apologize for how he was in high school’ which liek steve was just minding his own business - do we have to have multiple fics where nancy and jonathan apologize to people 24/7 for being in their own bubble? actually i need that now - if it happens to steve we should also make that happen for every single main character

[itsasideblog]

Unexpected Rendezvous

Eddie Munson x (fem)Reader

Words: 3384

Rating: Mature, and there is smut in this one so minors please DNI

Part 1 Here

Part 2 Here

*****************************************

You shut the door of your car and leaned against it as you pulled your sunglasses off your face. You frowned, and looked towards Steve as he stepped out of the passenger seat. "Tell me again why I agreed to come to this?"

He sighed, "because despite graduating you still have school spirit?"

You rolled your eyes and swung your purse over your shoulder. "Try again."

He glared, "okay, fine. To support Lucas during his first game? To support Robin while she plays her little heart out?"

You furrowed your brows, "that's better. But you and I both know the main reason you wanted to come to this thing is to try and score a date with Fiona Haraway."

His mouth fell open, "what? Absolutely not! I'm just... here to support my friends."

You grinned, "uh huh. You're the worst liar. You know that, right?"

He sputtered, "well - just... shut up and walk me inside."

The gym was bustling and you felt a tinge of excitement at the memories you had of getting the squad ready for the games. It had been amazing being the cheer captain that last year, and you weren't ashamed to admit it, despite the stereotypes hurled at you because of it. People didn't know how hard you worked for that team, and you'd been proud of being a part of it.

You smiled as you took your seat next to Steve, watching with great amusement as he searched for his next potential girlfriend.

"You know, legend has it that if you say her name three times she'll appear in front of you."

"Oh ha ha. You're so funny. Remind me why you're also single?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that I'm single by my own choosing."

He raised his brows, and you expected him to give you a teasing retort but his expression changed to one of mirth before he spoke. "Hey, remember last year when Jason kept asking you out?"

"Ugh, yes, and I said 'no' every time."

He laughed, "okay, well, don't look now, but I think he's about to pick up right where he left off."

Your eyes widened as Steve's gaze fell to the floor, just as you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You steeled yourself before turning around and looking upward, "Jason! Hey."

He flashed his perfect teeth at you, "Y/N! I didn't expect to see you here."

"No? Hopefully it's a pleasant surprise."

He nodded as he ran his eyes over your frame. "It always is... Come to cheer me on?"

"Of course, I'd never miss a chance to cheer on the team." You made a clear attempt at emphasizing the word but you suspected he missed your intention.

His smile widened. "Hey, listen -- I'm having a party tonight after the game. You should come."

"Oh, I don't --"

He crouched down and grabbed your hand, "come on! Everyone will be there, they'd all love to see you."

"...Alright." You gently slipped your hand out of his and gave him a closed-lip smile. "I'll come."

"Great!" His eyes flickered to Steve, who was still awkwardly keeping his gaze towards his feet before continuing, "you can come too, Harrington."

Steve nodded, finally looking up, "sure, man. Thanks"

As Jason walked away Steve let out a low whistle beside you. "Wow. That was super embarrassing."

You laughed and smacked his arm, "I hate you."

*************************************

Immediately after the buzzer went off signalling the end of the game, Steve leapt up from his seat, making a bee-line for his potential date.

"I'll just wait in the hall then!"

He waved you off, not even looking in your direction as he did so, before you made your way towards the doors which lead to the foyer. 

It felt a little strange to be there, no longer being a student. High school had been such a huge part of your life, it was odd that it was over.

You walked towards the display case, your eyes falling to photos of the '85 cheer squad. A smile formed on your lips as you perused them.

"Admiring yourself?"

You spun around, startled by the sound of Eddie's voice approaching you. "And what if I was?"

He placed his hands in his pockets as he reached you. His eyes roamed the photos, falling on an individual one of you, posing with your leg in the air. He tilted his head, as if contemplating a complex painting. "Maybe I wouldn't blame you. You did look pretty good in that outfit."

Your pulse quickened at his words, and your mouth spoke faster than your brain could think. "Did I? I still have it hanging in my closet if you want a repeat." 

His mouth opened, apparently just as surprised at your response as you were, before he let out a laugh. "Yeah? I'll have to take you up on that."

You swallowed, yanking up the shred of confidence you felt inside of you, "I hope you do."

His deep brown eyes locked with yours as he took a step closer. "Do you?"

You bit your bottom lip, and raised your hand before gently grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. "Eddie, I--"

A bang! came from down the hall as the gym door flew open, with Steve and Fiona stepping through. The sound caused you to take a step back from Eddie, and the moment between you two was broken. 

"Y/N! You coming?"

You cleared your throat, keeping your gaze on Eddie as you called back to Steve, "yeah!" You sighed, and shortened the distance between you once more, this time grabbing at the jean of his vest. "Sorry. I have to go third wheel with them."

He placed his hand on top of yours, "sure."

You desperately wanted to kiss him, but with Steve staring you wouldn't dare. Instead, you took a step back, dislodging your hand from his. 

"See you around."

*********************************

You made a right down the now-familiar road and slowed down as you got closer to your destination.

You'd left Jason's party far earlier than he'd wanted you to - after being abandoned by Steve so he could go canoodle in private with his newest date, you didn't much feel like hanging around.

You used to love going to parties like that, but since you stopped spending time with that group of people every day, you'd had the space to realize just how different you were from some of them, and it made you wonder how you had been perceived by students who hadn't been a part of your friend group. Did they like you? Did they think you were a bitch by association? Were you one? You had graduated thinking that you were well-liked by most people, or at least no one would have anything negative to say about you, but being confronted with Jason and his friends made you question your idea of highschool-you, and it made you a little uncomfortable.

You'd rushed to say your goodbyes before you left, and without allowing yourself time to chicken out, you drove to the one place you actually wanted to be.

After you parked you hurriedly grabbed your bag before exiting the car and quickly walked to the door, knocking on it a few times before stepping back.

You heard the click of the lock turning, and when he opened the door he looked down at you, surprised. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

He nodded, "of course." He moved back a step as you entered and you dropped your bag onto the dining table before turning to face him.

"I'm sorry for barging in like this... I know we didn't have plans but--"

"Don't apologize. I would've asked you over had you not run off this afternoon."

"I know, I'm sorry." You closed your hands together, fidgeting with your fingers. "I was their ride and they wanted to go, so..."

He said nothing, but kept his eyes on you while you tried to find your words.

"Is your uncle home?"

He leaned back against the door and shook his head. "No. He's on night shift."

You breathed out, "okay."

"Okay?" He raised his brows in question. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm just... nervous. Or something."

He stood upright and took a step towards you. "Nervous?"

One more step.

"Why would you be nervous?"

You flexed your hands and forced yourself to look at him. God, he looked so good. You hadn't noticed that he'd changed out of his usual attire and was now wearing a grey pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt. It was stupid, really - they were completely normal clothes but the sight of him in them made a heat run straight to your core.

"Because of you. You make me nervous."

He smiled. Another step. "Why do I make you nervous?"

You frowned, "are you really going to make me say it out loud?"

A laugh escaped him as he reached you. "Do you not want to?"

You reach out and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling him flush to you, "Eddie," you whined. 

You heard the faintest moan emerge from him and you gulped in response. His own hands reached up and held your face. He was so close, if he would just lean in you could finally have what you've dreamt of for such a long time.

You watched as his eyes flicked across your features. Your pupils, your nose, your lips as you licked them. 

"Please."

You hardly registered what you'd said, but as he leaned in and closed the gap between you, you were nothing but grateful that you did.

He was tentative with his movements, the kiss being slow and patient, not what you were expecting from the guy who was so loud and boisterous at school. His lips were soft, and when he pulled back he gently bit your bottom lip, coaxing a gasp from you.

His breathing had picked up, and he already had a flush creeping up his neck as he looked at you. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

Your fingers lifted the fabric of his shirt, and you grazed your hands over the skin of his stomach, his muscles contracting in response. "Mhm. And I've wanted to tell you for such a long time."

He ran his hand over the base of your skull, tilting your head to the side so he could lick your neck before placing a kiss over top. You felt his warm breath over your ear as he spoke, "how long?"

You slid your hands over his sides and grasped along his back. "Oh! For-- for months. Since last year when we--"

He cut you off as he connected his lips with yours once more and he boxed you up against the counter. "Last year?"

You ran your nails along his skin as his pelvis came into contact with yours, "fuck, Eddie-- yes, when we had that-- that chem project." Stringing words together was becoming increasingly difficult as you felt his growing bulge against you. And since you could barely speak, you wanted to find another way to put your mouth to good use.

You slid your hands out from under his shirt and pushed on his chest. The look of confusion on his face would have been adorable in any other situation but now you were too focussed on what you wanted to do to him.

You grabbed him, spinning around so he was where you'd just been, and you touched your hands to the waistband of his pants. 

He was transfixed as you pecked him on his lips, kissing your way down him as you descended to your knees. He gripped at the counter as he looked down at you, "holy fuck."

You reached beneath the elastic band around his hips and began to pull. You went slowly, it felt like torture, your desire to see him was immeasurable, but you liked the thought of teasing him. He'd accidentally turned you on on more than one occasion, and you wanted to pay him back for it.

Inch by inch you went and when his cock sprang free you swallowed. The tip was pink and already leaking pre-cum, and when you gripped at his thighs it twitched in place. "Shit, Eddie." 

You skimmed your hands upward, close to where you knew he wanted them but not connecting. 

"Do you remember meeting in the library that day?" You shifted and very gently gripped him, your thumb swiping over his slit. He jerked in response, and he swallowed a noise in his throat. "You were late and you were wearing that fucking belt with the handcuffs." You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the tip. "You sat there with your legs spread and I've wanted to do this for you since then."

"God, you -- I would've let you."

You huffed out a laugh, the thought of blowing him in such a public place was invigorating, "would you like that? For everyone to see me on my knees for you?"

His hands flew to the back of your head as he groaned, "you're torturing me."

"Maybe." You grabbed the base of his dick and licked a stripe along the vein. His hands gripped you tighter, and you wished he'd push you down and fuck your face.

"Eddie," you gently wrapped your mouth around him and sank down, slowly at first, until you felt him reach the back of your throat. You breathed through your nose for a few seconds as you moved your head from side to side, and you heard a whine escape him. You moved back, and pulled him out with a 'pop!'

He released a breath, "if you keep doing that, I'm gonna cum right away."

You licked the pre-cum into your mouth as you stared up at him. "What if I want you to?"

He whimpered at that, and the sound of it made you wet. You could barely believe that this was happening - you'd wanted to tell him how you felt when you came over, but this was going tremendously better than you'd anticipated.

You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, and you wanted to groan in delight when you felt his hands guiding you into a rhythm. You were so eager to please him that you wanted him to just fucking take what he needed from you.

He gently pushed your face down as far as you could take it, and you ran your nails down his thighs as you gagged.

"Shit, Y/N -- you're so fucking good."

His pace was faltering, and true to his word, you could tell that he was close. You wanted to see him cum. You wanted to see the look on his face as he slipped off the precipice, you wanted to burn that damn image into your brain and never forget it.

You jerked your head back and pulled his cock out of your mouth. "I want you to come down my throat."

He looked down at you in disbelief as you took him back in, re-doubling your efforts. You paid close attention to the sounds he made and the actions you took that elicited them. His breath was coming in shorter bursts, and when you cupped his balls and gave them a squeeze he stalled, "fuck!"

You felt him still just before his cock contracted in your mouth, and his cum shot down the back of your throat. 

You gratefully took it all and swallowed once he pulled out of your mouth.

You were both out of breath, and his eyes fell to yours as he bent down onto his knees in front of you.

Nothing was said between you as he came down from his high, but you could see what he wanted to say just in his expression.

You reached for the zipper of your jacket - you'd been so preoccupied that you hadn't taken it off. You felt hot, almost too hot, and he watched intently as you slipped it off of your frame and tossed it in front of the door. 

He reached out and pulled you towards him, licking your lips before kissing you. You knew he must have been able to taste himself on your tongue, and that idea only made you want him more. 

He gripped your arms, never breaking your kiss as he gently pushed you down and onto your back. He climbed on top of you, and on instinct you wrapped your legs around him.

You felt a hand on your thigh, and it slowly inched its way up until he reached the button of your jeans. "Fucking take these off, princess."

You swallowed another groan, the damn nickname making you feel something pathetic, and you quickly undid the button before he unceremoniously helped you remove the garment.

He peaked down at you, and gently caressed you over the thin piece of fabric. "You're soaking." He circled his fingers and bent forward, placing a kiss to your chest. 

"When you were here the other week, that was hell." He pulled down the front of your shirt, kissing the exposed part of your breast. "Having you here. Seeing you on my bed." He nipped at your skin. "And not being able to touch you."

He switched his focus to sliding down the remaining barrier between him and your pussy, and he groaned when he saw you on display for him. "God. I've thought about nothing since."

His finger circled your entrance, coating himself before he pushed into you.

The breach felt so good, your mind spaced as he pumped in and out of you at a slow pace.

"So tight. I knew you would be." He pushed your shirt up with his left hand as he looked down at you. "Show me your tits, please. I have to see you."

Your head thumped against the floor as you arched up, he added a second finger and hit the exact spot inside of you that made your toes curl. But you wanted to be good for him, so you tried to be swift and reached behind your back, unclasping your bra before shoving it up and holding it out of the way.

"Such perfect tits." He leaned back down and placed his lips around your nipple, sucking on it tightly before releasing it. It immediately hardened, it had felt so good.

"Eddie, please."

He laughed as he stared down at you, "please what?"

You groaned in frustration before you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. "One more."

He watched your face as he pushed another finger inside of you and you whined at the stretch. Your eyes flicked to his, and he looked in awe as you lay there as he finger fucked you.

He placed kisses over your chest as he increased the speed of his pumps and you began to feel the coil inside of you grow tighter. "God, don't stop." 

He flicked his tongue over your nipple as you felt his other hand slide over your pubic bone, his thumb connecting with your clit. "Is this what you need, princess?

You rolled your hips in time with his movements and as he rubbed your clit with his thumb, you felt yourself step closer to the edge. "Yes! Just like that."

You'd always imagined he'd be a good listener, and you were fucking thrilled that your imagination hadn't let you down. He worked you so fucking good, that as your peak hit you, you gasped at the intensity of it. "Fuuuuck."

Your head rolled back as you felt yourself clench around his fingers, and he pumped in and out, guiding you through your orgasm until you'd stopped. He pulled his fingers out, and leaned back against the side of the counter.

Nothing could be heard in the room beyond the two of you trying to catch your breath.

He closed his eyes, trying to collect himself before he turned his head towards you. "Jesus Christ."

Your chest heaved slightly, and as you finally registered the feel of the carpet beneath your back, you let out a huff of laughter as you realized you'd never even taken a moment to not fool around right in front of the door.

"Yeah. Jesus Christ."

[lokifantasies]

Precious Gift (Loki/Virgin!Reader) FLUFF/SMUT

Requested by anon.

Word count: 2921

You pace outside his door – back and forth – back and forth – chewing on your nails until they're at the quick. Is it obvious? You're terrified – shaking so much that you might cause an earthquake.

Okay, you try to calm yourself, taking deep breaths and trying to stay quiet. What could go wrong? What's the worst that could happen? What do you mean 'what could go wrong'?! you scold yourself. He could look at you like you're absolutely insane – laugh you out of the tower – embarrassingly turn you away.

"Y/N," Loki's voice interrupts your thoughts, having opened the door and leaning against the frame. "You've been pacing outside my door for twenty minutes now," he informs you.

You blush harder than you ever have before.

"I'm sorry," you rapidly yelp out. "I didn't, uh, um, you know – well, I didn't -,"

Loki laughs at your frazzled state. "Calm down," he tries to soothe you walking out into the hallway and placing his hands on your shoulders. "What's going on?" he asks you with genuine concern. "Is everything alright?"

The ability to speak flees from your brain, and the only thing you can do is stand there – gaping at the God of Mischief.

You exhale a deep breath. "Could I, uh, could we talk?"

Loki raises an eyebrow, confused at your request, but he leads you into his room anyway and closes the door behind you.

"You have my full attention," Loki says as he sits down on the edge of his bed.

"Good," your voice shakes, and you make your way towards him. You stand before him, and his blue eyes look up to search yours. "I've been...uh, thinking, and...well, we've been dating for a little while now...and I just wanted to know...do you think we're moving fast enough...maybe too fast...anything?"

Loki cocks his head, trying to figure out where you're going with this weirdness. "I'm...well...I want to move as fast or slow as you're comfortable with. What is going on with you?" You return to the door and turn the lock, wanting to make sure that no one can barge in. Loki watches you intently, still trying to decode your actions and words. You breathe so heavily that you're unable to turn back around to face him, so Loki stands from the bed and walks up behind you – watching you like a predator stalks its prey. "Y/N," he says in a low, threatening tone – sending shivers up your spine. "What are you doing?" he wasn't asking this time – he was demanding an answer from you. Loki easily reads your body's reaction to his ever-growing, seductive voice, and a small smirk begins to spread across his face. Gently, he reaches his left hand to the front of your shoulder and pulls the little bit of hair that lies there to place it behind your ear – exposing the top of your shoulder and the top neck. All you can do is close your eyes and try to focus on breathing, but your knees almost go out when you feel his mouth make contact with the spot where your shoulder and neck meet. Luckily, Loki's other hand snakes around your waist and holds your back to him – keeping you on your feet as he softly kissing your shoulder and up and down your neck. "Is this what you wanted?" he purrs in your ear. You slowly nod your head and let out a small moan, and he chuckles deeply – the vibrations you can feel in your back.

With your right hand, you reach back and hold the back of Loki's head, tangling your fingers in his dark locks and holding him to your soft skin as his small kisses turn into little bites followed by sucking. Unfortunately, the act of his growing affection causes your nerves to return in full force – stronger than they were before. Loki notices this, and he stops his devouring of your neck.

"No," you weakly whine and try to push his face back to your skin. "Please -,"

"Y/N," he interrupts, "what's wrong? Talk to me." Finally, you sigh and turn around to face him, and his gorgeous eyes are filled with concern. You try to get the words to come out, but they won't, so Loki grabs your hand and walks you back over to his bed to sit with him. Loki sits on your left, and you both turn so you can make eye contact. "Please."

Your cheeks caught on fire. It was now or never. "I...I want you to...you know...take my...my virginity," you finally whisper, looking away from him and down into your lap.

You hear Loki exhale in surprise and confusion. "What?" he asks, needing to be sure he heard you right.

Eyes filling with tears, you look up to look at him, and you repeat yourself. "I want you to take my virginity, Loki."

Loki's lips were immediately on yours, and he gently lay you down on his bed and hovers over you – looking deep into your eyes.

"Are you certain about this?" he asks, stroking your cheek with affection. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," you say through shaky breaths. "Loki, I've loved you and wanted this since we went on our first date," you confess. "I'm ready for us to take this step."

Loki smiles. "I never imagined my feelings would be reciprocated."

"You...you mean...you love me?" you ask, feeling even more nervous than before.

"I do...I do love you," Loki smiles before taking your lips again. Although the two of you have been together for a little while, the most you've ever done is give him and let him give you a basic peck on the lips. Loki figures out quickly that you're extremely inexperienced in sexual acts – even making out is a foreign feeling to you. Loki tries to nudge your mouth open by licking your lips, but you don't seem to understand what he's trying to do. Finally, he removes his lips and places a bite on your neck – causing you to moan. He takes that opportunity to swallow your moan and explore your mouth with his tongue. You try to follow along with him the best you can, and Loki chuckles at your innocent attempts. "Relax," he says in a quiet and drawn-out voice, trying to calm your nerves. "Just...let yourself lose control," he urges, moving on from your lips to the bit of cleavage visible with your shirt on. "Let me guide you into an abyss of pleasure," you continue to moan at his words. "Give me your body – your trust – let me make you feel good."

"Will you hurt me?" you eventually manage to say in a wimpy voice. Loki immediately halts his barrage of kisses and looks up to face you – sincerity all over his face.

"Baby girl," he begins with a serious yet loving tone, grabbing your face with his hands and wiping your small tears away, "I will never do anything to purposely harm you, okay?" You nod your head, but he isn't done. "The only thing you need to do is tell me to stop, and I will stop immediately. No questions asked," he places a peck on your lips. "You're giving me one of the most precious gifts you have to give, and I will do whatever I need to prove that I'm worthy enough to receive it – this level of trust." This time, you pull him to your lips and hold him tightly. Loki's hands go from your face, then down your sides, and then stop at the hem of your shirt. His fingers play with the fabric, and he pulls away from you – waiting for you to give him the go-ahead.

"Do it," you whisper out – consenting for him to remove your top.

Loki gently takes it off your body and tosses it across the room. He's immediately in awe of your breasts – the perfect size for his hands, being covered by your green, lacy bra. He peppers your chest and top of your breasts with loving kisses, and you take his hands – moving them behind you for him to unhook the contraption. Loki has it unhooked with one motion, and you help him take it off your body and toss it as well.

"My baby girl," he says, absolute amazement in his eyes. "Oh, you're absolutely perfect."

You giggle, and Loki slowly takes a nipple into his mouth – sucking on it and leaving more of his love bites. His hands hold your breasts like they are fragile works of art and might break at any moment.

You tug at his shirt, wanting him to take it off, and so he lets you pull it over his shoulders, and like everything else, it's thrown across the room. Your hands explored his toned body – his perfectly sculpted abs and the small scars that decorated his pale skin. He moaned as you placed your own love marks on him and kissed his chest. You feel his bulge rub your thigh as he moved, and the fire inside your stomach grew hotter – but your nerves grew as well. Loki's hands go to your hips, and you nod for him to slide your shorts off. He chuckles at the green, lacy panties that matched the bra you had been wearing, and you instantly guide his hand to the hem and guide them off your body. Finally, you lay completely bare before the god, and he looks at you like something he has never seen before. You giggle innocently at his awestruck expression and rub your foot on his bulge. Loki grins, and he snaps his fingers – getting rid of the rest of his clothes.

At that moment, your giggles die, and your eyes widen. Loki doesn't seem to notice, and he goes back to hovering over you, but before he can get too close, you raise your hand up and block him by pushing on his chest.

"Loki," you whined, "stop."

Instantly, Loki stops, and he pulls you into his arms.

"What is it, my love?" he asks, worried that he hurt you, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you answer. "I'm just – I'm scared."

Loki rests his forehead to yours. "Baby girl, we don't have to do this if you're not ready," he reminds you in a caring voice.

"No," you quietly refute. "No, I mean, I want to," you insist, "but I'm just – will it hurt?"

"For a bit," Loki answers you honestly with care in his eyes. "But, my love, I will do everything I can to make sure it doesn't last long."

You swallow hard and nervously shake your head. "I trust you," you whispered. He places a deep kiss on your lips.

Loki smiles softly. "I'm not going to just force myself into you, alright? If you're okay with it, I would be most grateful for a taste of my goddess. It will help loosen you up a bit as well."

Those words relight that fire in your core, and you feel the wetness between your thighs start to build again.

"Okay," you breathe out, and Loki starts trailing kisses down your body – starting from your face and going down to the short, small hairs that protect the untouched treasure you hold between your thighs. Loki's hand slowly moves to separate your thighs, and he tells you to relax your body. You nod and try your best to give him control over your body. Loki pushes your thighs apart and holds them down onto the comforter. You hear him let out another awestruck gasp, and you open your eyes to see the look on his face. The look plastered on the God of Mischief's face turns you on even more, and he looks up at you to see you innocently biting your bottom lips with begging eyes.

Loki lay down between your thighs and takes in your scent. Your scent drives him crazy, and before you can think about his reaction, his mouth is covering your aching core. You gasp and reach for something to grab as he works his tongue in between your folds, over your clit, and inside your virgin entrance. He gently bites your clit and sucks for a few seconds, and you let out the loudest moan so far – causing Loki to chuckle, which only adds to the pleasure.

"You're delicious," he growls, slowing down to savor your taste. "So pure," lick, "untouched," lick, "innocent." His mouth is back on you in full force, and your body starts shaking involuntarily.

Loki enters a finger into your entrance, and you yelp at the sensation. Your back arches off the bed as he curls it inside you – hitting the perfect spot – along with sucking on your throbbing nub.

"Loki," you moan, feeling his arm hold your hips down. "Loki, I'm – I feel," you try to speak through panting breaths.

He grins up at you. "Just let go, baby girl," he purrs before returning his attention to your throbbing cunt. Without a second thought, you trust him, and you let the tight feeling inside your lower stomach snap, and your hands grab onto Loki's hair – pulling his flush against his mouth – coming onto his tongue and face. Your sight goes blank, and the world around you fades away as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure he had promised. Loki's moaning against your juices and swallowing all that you can give him as he guides you through your orgasm. He doesn't wait for you to come back to Earth before crawling up your body and holding your face in his hands as his fingers continue to work you over. "Do you want me inside you, baby girl?"

"Yes," you moan out as your orgasm is still surging through your body.

Loki knows that it will be less painful if he enters you while your body is orgasming. He tightly wraps you in his arms, and you gasp as you feel his cock start sliding into you. Loki promised to do everything in his power to help with the pain, so he doesn't stop when he feels resistance – he knows that if he does, it will just be more painful for you.

"It's okay, baby girl," Loki whispers sweetly when he hears you cry and shake. "I've got you. Just hang on for me." You tearfully nod into his chest as he holds your head to him, and your nails start scratching his back deeply, which encourages him to hurry up and sheathe himself in you. You can feel the tearing, and you're pretty sure there's some blood, but you know this won't last forever. "There we go," Loki exhales, stilling in you and letting you adjust. "Look, baby," he says, taking your hand down to where you're one, "I'm in." You smile at the feeling of being connected with him, and you capture his lips with yours. Eventually, Loki moves very slowly, stretching you a little more. You finally give him the go-ahead to thrust slowly, so he starts moving in and out of you slowly yet deeply. "Oh, I love you," he moans in your ear, your warmth consuming him. "I love you, I love your pussy – oh – you're so tight around me." His dirty whispers turn you on more and more the more he speaks.

"Is that so?" you ask, returning his sinful words. "I love you – love your cock."

Loki chuckles darkly and kisses you once more. "Your pussy is mine now," he growls. "No one else will ever have it."

"I don't want anyone else to have it," you purr, the pain finally subsiding and the pleasure taking over. "Oh my God, Loki."

"That's right, baby girl," he bites your neck, "I am your God."

"Yes, you are," you agree through your panting breaths. "Loki, I -,"

"Let go," he orders you quietly. "Don't hold your sounds back from me – prove to me that I'm bringing you the pleasure my goddess deserves – come around my cock."

Loki feels your walls clench around him – your pussy hungrily drinking what it can from him, and your cream and juices coat his shaft. The only word on your lips is his name that comes out in screams and moans. You're pretty sure the entire tower can hear you, but you don't care – you're too lost in the blinding orgasm. A few more thrusts and Loki reaches his peak as well – spilling his seed into you. He holds you close to his heart while the two of your ride the waves of pleasure. You moan at the warmth of his essence that's trying to take root in your womb and grow a new life, but neither one of you is concerned with such a consequence at the moment. Right now, you and Loki feel as though you're one being – one soul. If a new life begins due to the love you and he share, then that's what is supposed to happen. Loki guides the two of you back into reality, and he holds you tightly to his side once he pulls out of you, lovingly stroking your sweaty hair while you catch your breath. Completely worn out, the biggest action you can do is place a kiss on Loki's shoulder, but he grins and places a kiss on the top of your head nonetheless – holding you in his arms as the two of you drift off and bask in the smell of the air that carries the scent of your love for each other.