#really hoping somebody reads this post lmao

[undressrehearsal]

a bite of luxury

summary: you decide to look for a sugar mommy and stumble across this strange girl that seems to have more to hide

tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie (yep, we got it all) alcohol, reader is poor lmao, reader uses she/her and is referred to as a girl once or twice, no smut in this one sorry gotta establish the world first

word count: ~8k

a/n: it's been so long since i posted a fic lol working full time and trying to finish my book is killing my schedule BUT i hope y'all like this this was my fiancee's idea and i'm running with it i got a LOT of plans for this one - plans i think y'all are gonna love

also the drawing in the cover is made by @nramv seriously go check out their work they're so talented!!

if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!

You hadn’t been searching for a sugar mommy. 

Truthfully, when your best friend had sent you the link, you had dismissed it immediately. She had been joking about it for months, talking about how much easier it would be if you just found a nice older woman to take care of you. You hadn’t even opened the link - you only rolled your eyes, replied with a middle finger emoji, and left it at that. 

And yet things kept piling up. The stack of bills on your kitchen counter was growing to a concerning height, a mountain of unanswered responsibilities that was getting harder to ignore. Your landlord kept calling you - you no longer answered, just watched the phone ring until it finally stopped and ignored the increasingly angrier voicemails. Your apartment was an absolute disaster; you could never be bothered to clean it, because by the time you got home from working both of your jobs, you only had enough energy to eat a bowl of leftovers and promptly pass out in bed. 

The link kept popping up in your mind, each bill in your mailbox a gentle reminder. You found yourself scrolling all the way up the text chain to find it again during sleepless nights. So many times you would only stare at it, your thumb hovering over the blue letters, before you closed the chat and threw your phone down. 

It was stupid, of course. But as time went on, the idea of letting yourself get buried alive under a mountain of debt - of getting evicted from your apartment and having to crash on your friend’s couch - seemed all the more stupid. 

So, late on a Thursday night, after you had had another anxiety attack staring down at your bank account, you went back up the text chain, and you clicked the link. 

www.seeking.com

It didn't take long for the messages to start coming in. You should have been flattered, honestly - you had at least a handful of people in your messages practically begging you for the honor of paying your fucking rent - but you really just felt like you were playing a part that you hadn't even read the script for. You had curated your profile with all the things that made you appear more cultured than you actually were: going to museums and pondering over Baroque art and reading poetry over a pretentious cup of coffee. Sure, these were all things you had done - you had photo proof, after all - but somehow you didn't recognize yourself. It felt like you were looking at pictures of a stranger living a life you wanted but couldn't reach. 

Most people were fine - charming, even. You got maybe one or two that felt like they would lure you into their sex dungeon to murder you, but that was expected with any dating site. You even went on a few dates, scrounging up the nicest dress you owned and getting pampered at a five-star restaurant or going for a ride on an older woman’s personal yacht. One person even took you for a helicopter ride, which was fun but she was a little too handsy on the first date to warrant a second. 

One name kept popping up though, a name that was becoming far too familiar in your notifications. 

ellie: meet me at 8 <3 

When she first messaged you, you had thought she was like you: somebody searching for a partner to pay their bills. Her pictures didn't exactly scream sugar mommy material. Her first picture was just a normal selfie taken outside; she wore a worn out leather jacket, her short hair tangled from the wind and green eyes squinting in the sunlight. She had stupid pictures of mushrooms and candid shots of her browsing a science museum, looking far too excited in front of a t-rex skeleton. Hell, in most of her pictures she looked like she was wearing clothes she had found at a thrift store.

You had thought she was like you, until she sent you a picture inside her fucking Rolls-Royce. 

“Fuck,” you audibly cursed into the quiet of your room. You had been talking for a few days, and she had begun to do that - sending you small selfies throughout the day. In the last one, she had taken a picture in front of the mirror at the gym, flicking off the camera, her lean muscles glistening with sweat. Before that, it had been a blurry picture of her dog, Riley - a huge German Shephard - splayed on her back at a park, leaves stuck in her fur. 

So, yeah, when you found out Ellie was not only rich, but rich enough to casually have a Royce, you were more than a little surprised. 

The selfie was cute, you couldn’t deny that. Her hair was wind-swept, catching in those long ass eyelashes. Ellie’s nose was scrunched up, freckles popping against her cheeks, holding up a peace sign. 

She was fucking adorable and you already knew it. But seeing her worn out leather jacket and messy hair against black and white leather seats that looked like they, alone, cost more than your entire apartment complex combined - it was a little jarring. 

And when she asked you out on a date soon after - after finding out she wasn’t Iike you but rather searching for someone like you - how could you say no? 

Ellie offered to pick you up - like a gentleman, she had said - but frankly, you weren’t quite convinced yet that she wasn’t some blood-thirsty pervert trying to lure you into her dungeon, so you politely declined. Instead, in your nicest dress and heels you hardly wore because they pinched your toes, you called an Uber. 

You had never been to this side of town. You had plugged in the address Ellie gave you - had double and triple checked it while your awkwardly chatty Uber driver tried asking you about what you do for a living - but the streets here were so unfamiliar you may as well have been in another city. You looked at the foreign buildings rising up around you, large windows giving you a glimpse of the life inside them. People were sitting outside in the chilly air, laughing over wine and dinner. Looking at them - with perfectly sculpted hair and clothes you would have to spend several entire paychecks on - you felt like a cheap impersonator dressed up in a costume. 

The Uber pulled up in front of a hotel, and your heart stopped. Surely, this wasn’t where Ellie had sent you - leading you to some fucking hotel room when you hadn’t even met yet? 

You turned to the driver, your home address at the edge of your tongue, when the car door opened. 

You had practically been leaning against the door to peer out the window, and nearly lost your balance when it was suddenly gone without warning. You looked up, ready to yell at whatever pretentious prick in Prada was trying to fuck with you - but your voice died in your throat. 

Ellie was shorter than you thought she'd be, honestly. In all her pictures, she had this commanding energy, like she would tower over you in person. 

Which, to be fair, she was. She had her arm propped on the doorframe above your head, leaning over so she could meet your eyes. Her hair was pushed back from her face, a few stray strands falling over her forehead, and she was looking at you with an intensity that hadn't quite translated through her pictures.

Ellie smiled - that adorably crooked smile you had seen in all her selfies - and said, “Hi.” 

And the only word you were able to get your mouth to form was, “Fuck.” 

Ellie blinked at you for a moment - long enough that you could feel the flush creeping up your neck and were ready to walk home if you had to - before she finally laughed. That wasn’t like what you had expected either; she had this deep, rough laugh, almost like she was trying to hold it in. 

She looked up at you through her lashes - you tried to ignore the way your heart inexplicably skipped - and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment?” Her voice tilted up at the end like it was a question. Ellie ducked her head down further, looking past you to meet the driver’s eyes, and pulled cash from her back pocket. With her most charming smile, she handed it to the driver and said, “Thanks for getting her here safe.” 

You didn’t see how much money she gave him, but after she took your hand and guided you out of the car, you turned back just in time to see his grin before he sped off. 

“Thanks for coming out.” You looked back at Ellie and found yourself speechless once again. (You, thankfully, were able to hold in the expletive this time.) The worn out jacket that had featured in just about all of her pictures was missing, replaced instead by a pristine, white satin shirt, the top few buttons undone to expose a sliver of collarbone and a gold chain beneath. Despite the chill in the air, she had a classy black jacket hanging from her arm as though it were an accessory. Ellie smiled and looked down, licking her lips before saying, “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes.”

You tried to smile at her but found that your eyes kept flitting behind her, looking at the looming monstrosity of the hotel. It was a nice hotel - the kind that had a huge fountain right in front of it and a chandelier in the lobby that sparkled through the window - but it was a hotel nonetheless. Despite the set in your jaw, traitorous tears stung the corners of your eyes; you wanted to kick yourself for actually thinking that Ellie might be different. 

Ellie followed your gaze over her shoulder, her smile dropping, before she quickly turned back to you with panic in her eyes. She stumbled over her words as though her tongue weren’t cooperating: “Shit, I’m sorry, this looks really bad doesn't it?” She grimaced and squeezed your hand she was still holding, scratching awkwardly at the back of her head with the other. “Fuck, this isn’t the first impression I wanted. I could promise it's not what it looks like, but maybe it'd be better if I just showed you?”

You honestly did think about telling her to fuck off. She was a complete fucking stranger that you only really knew from a dating app, and she was trying to lure you into a hotel in a part of town you were unfamiliar with - really, only an idiot would follow her. 

But she was looking at you with wide green eyes, the lights around you shining back like stars. While searching for the constellations, you found yourself saying, “Okay.” You blinked, pulled from a trance, and added, “But you should know, I do have a taser in my bag.” 

That pulled a shocked laugh from Ellie’s lips. She gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the door, and said, “Smart girl.” 

You knew that the hotel was outside of your price range because a perfectly groomed doorman opened the door for you, waving you inside with a gloved hand. You didn’t take much time to process the interior - the chandelier was just as grand as it had seemed from outside and elaborate columns rose to the ceiling - because Elllie was pulling you towards the elevators. It was like she wanted to ignore the fact that she had brought you to a hotel at all. You couldn’t decide if that was reassuring. 

In the empty elevator, you gently drew your hand back and leaned against the wall opposite her. You tried to ignore looking at the way her pinstripe slacks hugged the curves of her thighs, the fabric straining when she propped one booted foot on the wall behind her. 

“So,” you started in a desperate attempt to fill the awkward silence, “if you’re not leading me into a seedy hotel room on the first date, then what are we doing?” 

“Okay, one,” Ellie said, chuckling, “this is anything but a seedy hotel. And two, what kind of a date would it be if I ruined the surprise?” 

“And what if I don’t like surprises?” you countered. 

Ellie grinned. “I think you’ll like this one.” 

When the elevator doors opened, Ellie held her hand out to you as though it were a question. You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand back in hers and letting her lead you out into open air. 

You nearly choked on a gasp. 

The bar itself was beautiful - fairy lights stretched above your head, twinkling like stars and casting the rooftop in a warm glow. Wooden tables and plush couches were spread artfully around the space, far enough apart to provide the patrons scattered about with some privacy. 

The bar was beautiful - but the view was fucking breathtaking. 

The city stretched out beyond the railings, open in a way you had never seen before. The skyline rose around you, each building shining like its own little galaxy amidst a sea of stars. The city lights blocked out the actual stars - a fact that never failed to piss you off - but you could see the crescent of the moon rising over the city, casting a quiet glow like a veil. 

You looked back at Ellie, and whatever your face held made her grin. She leaned in just enough so that her murmur was for your ears only: “So, was I right?” 

You blinked, momentarily distracted by her proximity - she smelled intoxicating, spicy and warm with a hint of tobacco beneath - before you finally said, “What?” 

Ellie snorted, breaking whatever spell she had put you under. “The surprise,” she said, leaning away enough for your head to clear. “Was I right?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips as though you had to think about it. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the skyline stretched before you. 

You finally said, “That depends on how good the drinks are.” 

When Ellie laughed, her eyes crinkled in the corners, her nose scrunching. It was a full, rich sound, hanging in the air above your head like helium. It made something in your chest tighten, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. 

She squeezed your hand, a twinkle in her eye, and said, “The old-fashioned's to die for.” 

You pursed your lips again to hide your smile.

Ellie didn’t bother checking in with the host, simply shot her a smile and a wave as you walked by - you tried to bite back a giggle when you saw the host’s face turn red, her eyes tracking Ellie as she led you to a table right along the edge of the railing. She pulled the chair out for you - “Such a gentleman,” you laughed - before taking the seat opposite you.

As she waved over a waiter, you took a moment to lean your head over the railing. It was made entirely of glass, giving you a clear view of the city below. You could hear the distant sound of traffic, cars racing below you like shiny beetles, but it was like it was coming from a different world altogether. Everything seemed impossibly, wonderfully small from up here. 

You looked up at the sound of your name to find a groomed waiter wearing a fucking waistcoat standing before you. Ellie was looking at you with laughter in her eyes, her lips twitching. 

“Shit, sorry,” you said, immediately flinching at your own curse. You suddenly couldn’t remember the proper etiquette in a fancy bar, feeling out of place and underdressed even in your nicest outfit. You looked between Ellie and the waiter, wracking your brain for any kind of drink that wasn’t a trashy cocktail you’d find at a dive bar. 

Seeing you floundering, Ellie gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Do you like wine?” 

Relief washed over you as you nodded. Turning back to the waiter, Ellie ordered something that you couldn’t even hope to pronounce, charm lifting the corner of her mouth. She spoke to the waiter with the steady ease of familiarity, laughing at some inside joke; you briefly wondered just how often Ellie came to this bar. Surely, a nice place like this - at the very precipice of the world, looking down at the stars - wouldn’t be a regular stop on anyone’s schedule, but Ellie and the staff spoke like old friends. 

When the waiter left, tussling Ellie’s hair playfully, she turned back to you and the awkwardness of a first date finally set in. Sure, you had been texting Ellie every day for a week now, but you still hardly knew the girl. You knew she liked mushrooms and hiking. You knew that most of her clothes were from the thrift store even though she could afford any designer brand she wanted. You knew her favorite video game was Dishonored. But nothing you knew was enough for a relationship. 

But you weren't exactly looking for love, were you? 

After a moment of silence, Ellie cleared her throat, looking out over the city. “It's nice out here.” 

You snorted before you could stop yourself, covering your mouth; it didn't cover the laughter in your eyes. You said, “You're really talking to me about the weather?”

Ellie opened her mouth, an indignant sparkle to her eye, before shutting it again. It was like she was malfunctioning, opening and closing her mouth yet no sound came out. She furrowed her brows, looking at you as though you were something new and interesting, before finally chuckling, looking away. “Yeah, I-I guess I am.” When she looked back up at you, her eyes were surprisingly sheepish. “Not making a great first impression, am I?”

You couldn't stop the smile that crept up to your eyes. You leaned closer, propping your chin in your hand, and said, “I think you're doing okay so far.” 

Ellie laughed that wondrous laugh again, her nose scrunching up, and the cord in your shoulders loosened. 

“Okay,” she sighed, her eyes still alight with residual laughter. “Okay, damn. Tell me about yourself.” 

“Well now this just sounds like a job interview.” 

Ellie threw her hands up in mock frustration, trying to stifle her own grin. “Okay, fuck, knock me down again! You're obviously an expert, so show me how it's done.” 

She leaned back and crossed her arms, looking at you expectantly, and it was the perfect moment for your drinks to arrive. Ellie did, in fact, order an old-fashioned. The waiter set two wine glasses on the table, producing a bottle seemingly from thin air. He held it out, explaining to you in rehearsed prose the year, acidity, and complexity in words that passed straight through you. You nodded along even as you didn't process a single word he said. 

When he left, you turned back to Ellie and said, “How did you find this place?” 

Ellie took a sip of her drink. The lights of the city danced in the amber glass. “Just an old haunt of mine, I guess.” 

You took a sip of the wine, taking the distraction. It was warm on your tongue, tasting of wood and fruit and something spicy just underneath. The wine you usually drank was the stuff you could find in your nearest grocery store, often tasting concerningly like bug spray and bought with whatever tips you had managed to scrape together from work. It was usually shared with a friend on your kitchen floor, the walls and thoughts spinning over your head. 

You much preferred wine like this: The taste of warmth and fire on your tongue, the cool air brushing your shoulders at the edge of the sky, and a beautiful person sitting across from you.

When Ellie lowered her glass, you could see amber droplets of whiskey clinging to her lips before her tongue darted out to catch them. You tore your eyes away, but her smile said that she had caught you staring. A chill ran up your spine that you were sure was just from the cold. 

Seeing you shiver, Ellie wordless reached behind her where she had tossed her jacket over the back of her chair. Standing, she rounded the table only for a moment, only long enough to place the coat over your shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a second too long before she retreated, sliding back into her seat as though she had never moved. 

“So, why are you here?” she finally said. 

You pulled the jacket around your shoulders, distracted by the smell of it. The same smell that must be her perfume clung to it, spiced and warm like an open fire, but something else clung to the fabric too. It was strangely metallic, sharp and intoxicating, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was shockingly warm against your skin. 

“I’m here,” you said, raising a brow and ignoring her real question, “because you sent me this address and told me to meet you here at eight wearing my nicest dress.” 

The corner of Ellie’s lips quirked, a grin she was trying to hide. She clasped her hands, leaning across the table so you could smell the whiskey on her breath. “And you agreed to meet a stranger at a seedy hotel,” she murmured, mocking your remark from earlier. Her grin revealed itself when your cheeks flushed. “But why are you here - what are you seeking?” 

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s kind of a dumb question, don’t you think? It’s pretty obvious why I’m on the app.” You cocked your head, leaning across the table, feeling a strange thrill when her eyes flashed. Your heart fluttered at the proximity, and you couldn’t remember when you had become so easily starstruck. “The real question, Ellie, is why are you?“ 

Ellie’s eyes darkened, and you weren’t sure if you just imagined her eyes flicking down to your lips. She looked back up at you through her lashes, her voice rough when she said, “That’s a third date kind of question.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “What makes you so sure you’ll get a third date?” 

Ellie tilted her head, a slow smile pulling at her lips, and said, “Call it a hunch.” 

The waiter came to check on you, appearing at your shoulder like a ghost. You hastily retreated, leaning back in your chair as though the electricity in the air had shocked you, and took a sip of wine that was more than a little overzealous. You tried to choke it down as Ellie waved the waiter away with that heartstopping crooked smile. What happened to you? Since when were you so easily charmed by freckles, green eyes, and smart-ass comments? You couldn't remember the last time you had been so infatuated during a normal date, let alone one with these kinds of strings attached. 

“So you don't want to be in an interview,” Ellie said once the waiter was out of earshot. “I guess all my typical getting to know you conversations are out of the question.” 

“I didn't say that,” you countered, your throat still burning from your accidental wine waterboarding. “But come on - what girl are you going to impress by asking her questions like ‘Tell me about yourself,’ or ‘Why are you here?’ or ‘Why are you more qualified for this position?’”

“Okay, okay, goddamn,” she said, laughing. Grabbing the wine bottle, she looked at you for permission before pouring you another glass.

You brought the glass up to your lips, taking a sip to hide your smile. The flush in your cheeks was surely from the wine and nothing else. “What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“I hardly know you.” On one hand, that felt entirely untrue - but especially after this recent discovery, you really knew nothing about this girl. “Tell me about you.” 

Ellie laughed that same rough laugh and your heart jumped. “Oh, so you're allowed to be the interviewer.” 

You nodded, twirling the glass between your fingers and looking at her expectantly. 

After a moment, Ellie rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, but you could see the humor in her eyes. She downed the last of her old-fashioned and, like a good sport, said, “What do you want to know?”

Turns out, there was a lot to know - more than a simple dating app would tell you. Ellie had an older sister, Sarah, who lived in Dallas. Her dog was named after her childhood best friend. Her jacket wasn't thrifted after all, but had been her dad's. Speaking of which, she used to go hunting with him every season (“I haven't been in years, though,” she said, her eyes distant). On the weekends, she'd go to antique stores to look for art and trinkets to fill her house - her favorite antiques were from the 17th century. She hated horror movies and was a sucker for a good romance. 

In return, you caved and answered her pressing questions. You told her about your best friend - Ellie laughed when you told her that your friend had sent you the link to the app in the first place. You told her about your favorite show that you binge-watched whenever you felt like you were spiraling. You did not tell her about your apartment that was probably the size of her closet or the fact that you'd have to watch your budget after taking the Uber tonight, not to mention the extra $30 Uber to get home later. You did tell her about your family, and a strange, unexplained sadness crept into the creases around her mouth. You did tell her about your job, but didn't mention the second one you worked to afford groceries. You told her you were hoping for a real, human connection, yet didn't mention that you couldn’t imagine finding it in a fucking sugar mommy. 

All too soon, the wine bottle was empty and your chest was comfortingly warm. The lights strung across the bar danced above your head like fuzzy stars, and Ellie's smile was the brightest amongst them. Her glass was still empty, her wine glass dry, and yet her eyes told you she was intoxicated by something far stronger. 

“Sorry,” you said, giggling despite yourself. “I didn't mean to drink it all.” 

“Don't worry about it, darling,” she said, her voice silky smooth, reminding you of melted chocolate sliding down your throat. She tilted her glass, letting the remnants of melting ice clink against the side. “I wanted to make sure I could drive home okay.” 

The waiter arrived then, pulling the bill from his pocket and handing it to Ellie. You couldn't read the number upside down, not through the haze of the wine, but the number of digits made your stomach clench. Ellie dropped a black card into the folder and handed it back to the waiter. 

“How much do you want me to Venmo you?” you asked when she turned back to you. You clenched your hands in the hem of your dress, already calculating the extra shift you'd have to pick up to afford it. 

Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Nothing,” she said, as though it were obvious. 

“That wasn't exactly a cheap bottle, Ellie,” you laughed. “Let me give you something.” 

Ellie hummed, propping her chin in her hand and looking at you with those same intense eyes; it sent a dangerous shiver down your spine. “I like when you say my name.”

You blinked at her. “Excuse me.” 

“I want to hear it again. That's how you can repay me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ellie, I-” 

“Okay, now we're even,” she interrupted, smiling that crooked grin that you had started to crave. The waiter returned with her card and Ellie produced cash from her pocket, handing it to the waiter directly. He thanked her profusely before making his exit, grinning. When Ellie looked at you again, you were still watching her expectantly, dumbfounded. She finally rolled her eyes. “Seriously, what kind of date would I be if I made you pay?”

“You're not making me, I'm offering.” 

“And I'm saying no.” Ellie stood, straightening her shirt; when she tugged at it, the collar fell a bit, exposing sharp collarbones beneath. 

Rounding the table, she offered a hand to you, pulling you gently to your feet. You pulled her jacket tighter around yourself, knowing you needed to give it back yet unwilling to part with it just yet. 

Taking your arm, Ellie leaned in close enough that your breath caught in your throat and said, “I know why I found you on Seeking, okay? So, if it's alright with you, let me spoil you. Even if that just means one bottle of wine.” 

You laughed, but it sounded breathy even to your own ringing ears. “One very expensive bottle of wine.”

Ellie shrugged, a sparkle in her eye. “It's a small price to pay for your company.”

You were silent in the elevator, but you held on to her arm as though afraid to let go. You couldn't figure out why, but something in you urgently wanted nothing more than to be close to her. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt such a pull from somebody. 

Back on the street, the lights of the city seemed so much brighter than they had before. Ellie released your arm, turning to face you, and there was a strange pinch between her brows that you couldn't translate. 

“Do you want me to call you an Uber, or do you want me to take you home?” she asked, and your brain short-circuited. When you could do nothing but stammer, tripping over your own tongue, Ellie laughed. There was no mockery behind it, only quiet, bright amusement. “I meant I can drive you to your apartment so you don't have to drunkenly sit in an awkward Uber that smells sickeningly sweet and the driver tries to make mind-numbing small talk.” 

Your sigh of relief came out more like a laugh. 

Ellie tilted her head and stepped closer to you, her hand reaching out to graze your fingers, and that sigh was sucked right back into your lungs. Being so close to her made your head spin. Her breath fanned against your cheeks, smelling of warm whiskey, when she said, “Unless you want to come to my place?”

It had the uncertain tilt of a question, and Ellie wouldn't quite meet your eyes. 

“We don't have to do anything,” she continued in a rush. She scratched anxiously at the back of her head, a nervous laugh slipping between her lips. “We can just sit and talk more. Or watch a movie - my dad had this huge collection. I'm not gonna - You know, I'm not going to do anything you don't want.” She finally interrupted herself with a groan, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Fuck, sorry, I wanted it to sound more suave than this.” 

And you would be a fucking idiot to go home with this impossible stranger. You had been taught better - never get into a stranger's car, and for the love of God, never let them take you to a second location. You could let her take you back to your apartment at least - you were admittedly incredibly tipsy and didn't particularly want to endure another ride with an annoyingly talkative Uber driver. You could go home, back to your claustrophobic, quiet apartment, and maybe - maybe - text  Ellie about setting up a second date. 

You were not stupid enough to go home with somebody on the first date. 

Except clearly you were, because you took the hand that was still grazing your fingers and looked up at Ellie - the contours of her face were shockingly etched with insecurity. And your dumb mouth said, of its own volition, “Okay.”

You had expected something flashy, like what a wealthy person would own in a movie - like a penthouse overlooking the city with too-white walls and electric guitars hanging, unused, on the walls. Maybe she had walls completely made of windows so it felt like you were on a pedestal overlooking the world. 

You hadn't expected a house that was older than your great-grandparents. 

When Ellie pulled into the driveway, you were sure she was just pulling in someplace to turn around, that she had missed her turn somewhere. But she put her stupidly-expensive car into park and killed the engine, shooting you an awkward glance. 

“Sorry,” she said, chuckling. “I know it’s not much.” 

You could only look at her incredulously, speechless, before looking back up at the house before you. You couldn’t even call it a house really - estate would be more fitting. Maybe mansion. Fuck, her house was the size of your apartment complex. It towered over you, three stories of intricate woodwork, warm brown beams wrapping around the structure like an elaborate skeleton. With beautiful eaves winding around the roof and an entire turret reaching for the moon, it looked like something that had stepped right out of some 1800s southern gothic novel. 

Ellie cleared her throat, startling you from a trance. You looked back at her and, for some reason, couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

”Shit, sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. “I just - I’ve just never seen anything like it.” When Ellie’s eyes clouded over with uncertainty, you added softly, “It’s beautiful. Besides, Ellie,” you added, laughing again, “‘not much’ doesn’t really suit you.” 

Ellie opened and closed her mouth and yet no words came out. She was looking at you again as though you were something interesting - something new and exciting. Nobody had ever looked at you that way before, and the way your heart clenched at the sight was more than a little dangerous. 

Ellie finally smiled, huffing out a laugh - your heart was pretty satisfied with how often you were able to make her laugh - and said, “Do you still want to come inside?” 

And, surprisingly, you said, “Yeah, I do.” 

As Ellie got out, rounding the car to open your door for you, you discreetly checked that the taser was still in your bag. Sure, you had agreed to go home with a practical stranger, but you couldn't be too careful. 

The porch steps creaked as she led you to the door - double doors (of course), with stained glass and twisting vines carved into the wood. When Ellie opened them, it felt like you were transported to a different time on an entirely different world. 

The grand staircase caught your eye first - how could it not? Warm wooden steps covered in a blood red runner, a white banister winding up, those same vines that seemed to be the house’s signature carved into it. You could see a large, stained-glass window at the landing before it curved to disappear to the second floor. Moonlight splintered through the window in broken relief. 

As though in a trance, you wandered further into the house, walking to the fireplace situated right beneath the stairs. The wood stacked neatly inside was cold, untouched by a flame. There was a large mirror set atop the mantle, its gold frame a work of art alone. In the reflection, you could see the flush to your cheeks, and tried to convince yourself it was only from the cold. You still wore Ellie’s jacket, and you pulled it tight around your shoulders, as though it were a shield. 

You watched Ellie’s reflection as she walked slowly towards you, a small smile gracing her lips. She came close enough to touch - close enough that you could feel her cool breath against the back of your neck - and yet she didn’t put a hand on you. 

“There’s a lot more to see than the foyer,” she murmured, the words brushing your skin. “If you still want.” 

And you couldn’t stop your own smile as you turned back to her, your heart skipping at her proximity. “Show me.” 

She took your hand, her fingers shockingly cold, and led you into what must have been her living room - sitting room? Despite the fact that the house felt more like a museum - like you would get scolded for touching anything - the room was surprisingly cozy. A large, plush sectional was situated in front of another fireplace- this one also unblemished. Blankets and quilts were thrown over the couch and the accompanying chairs, leaving this time capsule looking strangely welcoming. 

“Okay, I have to ask,” you said, turning back to Ellie. She was watching you carefully, gauging your reaction with soft eyes, and you lost your train of thought. You opened your mouth but no sound came out; you weren’t sure if that was more or less embarrassing than the several curses you had said earlier in the night. 

Ellie hummed, raising her hand as though she wanted to touch you. She stopped only inches away from your cheek and dropped her hand, saying, “I’m an open book.” 

You had to turn away to collect your thoughts, wandering across the room if just to catch your breath. The opposite wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. You ran your fingers along the spines of vintage classics, an array of science books, and comics, enjoying the irony of seeing Savage Starlight in the middle of all this history. You picked up a copy to keep your hands busy. 

“How, um,” you started, stumbling over your words, “how did you end up here?” 

Ellie hummed again, and you heard her footsteps following you. “Here as in this town, this country, this world? You gotta be a little more specific.” 

You sighed, giving in and turning to look at her. She kept a careful distance, standing a few feet away from you with her hands in her pockets. “You know what I mean, smartass.”

Ellie chuckled, but her eyes had grown distant, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took a few more steps closer to you, looking at the comic book in your hands. On the app, she hadn’t struck you as the type to get easily bashful, and yet she had proven you wrong a few times already. 

“My family lived here,” she finally said, quiet as a secret. You watched her carefully, jumping at the opportunity to stare at her without those intense eyes looking back at you. Her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together as though she was in pain, her green eyes shining. “It was just… passed down, I guess? It’s kind of always been here ever since I can remember. I’m not entirely sure when it became mine.” 

You tucked the comic book back into its spot between The Iliad and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You said absently, “How old is this place anyway?”

”It was built in 1816,” she said automatically, as though it were memorized. 

“It’s an awfully big house for just one person.” You looked up at her through your lashes as she stepped closer - close enough that you could smell that same metallic warmth that seemed to cling to her. 

“It is,” Ellie murmured, smiling. She reached out again, and this time she allowed herself to touch you. Her cold fingers brushed against your cheek before she gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head so you’d look at her properly. Her green eyes were downright intimidating. “But I keep good company.” 

You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t convince yourself to look away. “Is that what you say to all the girls?” 

Ellie hummed, bracing her other hand on the bookshelf behind your head, and murmured, “No, I don’t.” She pressed in closer, her gaze dropping to your mouth, and you felt like your heart was going to leap from your throat. Ellie huffed out a laugh as though she could hear it pounding against your chest. When her thumb brushed your bottom lip, your lips parted on instinct. She didn’t look away, transfixed on the point where her skin touched your mouth, and you almost didn’t hear her when she said, “Can I?” 

And you had never been the kind of person to kiss on the first date, but she was looking at you with eyes hooded with want, her breath fanning against your cheeks. When she licked her lips, you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the motion. Her lips glistened, parted and plump, looking so impossibly soft. Somehow, past your haze, you heard yourself say, “Yes.” 

Ellie took her time in kissing you. She pressed you back gently, your shoulders pressing into the bookshelf behind you, and touched her nose to yours. She took a deep breath, breathing you in. Her hand was soft against your cheek, tilting your jaw up, and you hardly had to move to finally kiss her. 

Ellie tasted just like she smelled - spicy and metallic, the old-fashioned still hanging on her tongue. Despite the cold of her hand on your cheek, her mouth was impossibly warm, her breath slipping between your lips; it was intoxicating in a way that the wine couldn’t compare to. Her mouth moved against yours, soft and slow as a dance. 

Your hands reached out as though of their own accord, circling her waist and gripping at the slippery silk of her shirt. She pressed in close, crowding you against the bookshelf; you could feel her chest pressing against you, her hips on yours, the line of her body against yours making your head spin. And when Ellie’s tongue pressed against your lips, a gentle request for access, you felt like you’d faint altogether. 

Her tongue slipped between your teeth and you couldn’t stop the breathy sound it pulled from your throat. You could feel that infuriating smile against your lips and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. You balled her ridiculously expensive shirt in your hands and pulled her impossibly closer, nipping at her bottom lip, and you wanted to swallow her gasp. 

Ellie pulled away, chuckling, but she didn’t go far. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, her lips trailing down to your jaw, and she could probably feel your pulse jump beneath her tongue. You could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Do you do this often?” 

Her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, and it took you a few moments before you could respond. “Do what?” Despite yourself - despite the way your fingers gripped her shirt, your head swimming and an unexplainable want burning in your veins - you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go on a date with somebody I met on an app for sugar babies and go back to their ridiculously old mansion on the first date and-“ 

You cut yourself off. You weren’t sure exactly what was happening, and you were afraid that voicing it would break whatever spell you were under - whatever spell made this impossible woman’s touch feel like lightning. 

But Ellie only laughed, biting at the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Yeah, that.” 

You shivered against her touch. “No, I’ve never really done this.” 

“Guess I’m just lucky.” 

Ellie kissed you again, only briefly, before she finally pulled away. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with those same constellations; her face wasn’t even flushed, making you feel embarrassed about your burning cheeks. You were panting, intoxicated from the night and wine and Ellie. Her absence felt like an ache, your body craving the feeling of her lips, her teeth, her hands. You were close to tugging her back in, your hands still gripping her shirt, but she gently untangled herself from you with a laugh. 

“I want to keep going.” She paused, and then emphasized, “I really want to keep going. But you drank an entire bottle of wine, and I’d be kind of a shitty host if I didn’t offer you something to drink at least. Or are you hungry?” 

You were hungry, but it was the kind of hunger that food wouldn’t satiate. Still, you let your hands drop back to your sides, feeling your senses return to you now that they weren’t so tuned into Ellie - how she smelled, tasted, felt. When you laughed, it sounded breathy even to your own ears. “Some water would be nice.” 

“I can do that,” she said with a smile. “Stay here.” She kissed you again, lingering for a few moments longer than needed, before she turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in this ridiculously old mansion. 

With nothing else to keep yourself entertained, you did a slow lap around the room, eyeing the ironic blend of elegant antiques and silly trinkets that were so obviously Ellie. A cracked ivory trinket box sat on a shelf, intricate flowers engraved into the lid, set right next to a small figurine of an astronaut. Beautiful paintings lined the walls, signatures dating back to 1830 in elaborate script at the bottom, but there were also a few posters littered here and there - bands and video games. 

You walked over to the mantle, your fingers grazing over the marble top. The logs inside were untouched, and you briefly wondered if she’d light a fire soon to chase out the chill of autumn. A small jar filled with guitar picks sat at the corner, and you wondered if she really did have an electric guitar collection hidden around here somewhere. Your foot kicked an empty dog bowl, and yet Riley was nowhere to be found. Maybe Ellie took her to daycare when she knew she’d bring a girl home. You nearly laughed at the idea. 

Atop the mantle, hidden behind pictures of what must have been friends or family - hiking or traveling or laughing in somebody’s backyard - there was another picture frame. It must have fallen, face down so that the picture inside was covered. You reached out, careful to not disturb any of the other frames, and picked it up. You were just going to fix it, set it up next to the others, but something in the image caught your eye. You plucked it from its home, bringing it closer, holding it up to the light to get a better look. For a long time, you couldn’t figure out what you were looking at. Your heart hammered against your chest, your ears ringing, as though your body had figured it out before your brain did. 

It was an old photograph, grainy and sepia, faded and frayed around the edges with age. It was the house, looking just like it did today - the huge windows shining in the sunlight, the intricate eaves and wrap-around porch perfectly polished and new. A family stood on the lawn in front of the house, looking awkward and stiff. Back then, cameras took several minutes to actually capture a photo, so people tended to look a little awkward from trying to hold the same expression for so long. But that’s not what had caught your eye. 

It was a small family - a weary looking dad and his two daughters, looking just a few years younger than you. 

She looked a little different. Her hair was longer, falling in waves around her shoulders. She was definitely a few years younger, and she wore a sweet, full-length gown instead of a worn leather jacket. 

You checked the date in the bottom corner at least five times, but there was no mistaking it. The person in the photo was undeniably Ellie, standing in front of this house in 1816. 

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peejayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound

[lady-phasma]

Could you IMAGINE Lestat’s reaction to the internet? Better yet, imagine his reaction to all the fan blogs that would inevitably pop up after his own interview is released after Daniel’s book is published. Lestat’s ego would be bigger than the moon LMAO. Somebody would have to hide ao3 from that man.

Hi anon! I saved this ask until I could take my time with it, but also so that the amazing and brilliant @aemondsbabe could help me. She and I have literally been having a similar conversation for months!

In fact, I love this ask so much that I had to make a gif for it!

Since season two and the Rockstar promo we have been discussing this pretty frequently. One thing I think we can all agree on: Lestat's Twitter would be phenomenal and hilarious. I live for AMC to do a promo account just for the character.

Here's some headcanon we have about Lestat's internet use:

OF - Lestat 100% has an account. He might not use it for explicit acts, but he would love the "private" style of attention, knowing that he is captivating audiences via computers and phone and tablets in their homes.

Twitter/X - This account would be the rambling, unhinged shit we expect from him. Typos, Franglish, absurd comments because he misunderstood a pop culture reference. But most of all, he probably would direct most of his tweets to close friends and we'd get to see his tweets to Louis and about Armand. And the occasional interaction with fans or other celebrities when he figured out retweeting (which would result in the inevitable cancellation that he wouldn't care about at all).

Insta - We discussed this and at first I didn't think that he would have Insta at all. Then aemondsbabe suggested that he would have an account, but he would only post what his PR manager told him to post. I hope someone teaches him to take pictures of things other than shit in Walmart and candids of Louis.

Tumblr - aemondsbabe is a fucking genius! 100% credit where it is due. Lestat would have a Tumblr blog, but wouldn't quite understand that it's not a private diary. In fact, earlier this month during a discussion about this subject, she wrote a blog post for him:

louis, mon cher, how i wish you could be here with me on this, the most périlleuse des nuits… i have fallen prey to an evil poison, a foul spirit! the tour bus, you see, we had to stop to get l'essence ou, how you say, the gasoline… louis, mon cœur, i was tricked at this heinous shoppe! they had peculiar wares, des médicaments, promising virility of the gods! i have taken one and i fear this will end me, mon cher! please avenge me by slaying the most wicked of men known as Daryl! he has taken up résidence at l'Exxon outside of Tampa!

I laughed until I cried! Brilliant!

AO3 - I really don't know that he would find AO3 on his own. I think someone (maybe Graham Norton) would show it to him at some point and then he would speed read everything he could and write a "private" entry about the fics on his Tumblr diary. That would be something to read!

Thank you for this ask, anon! This was so much fun!

I hope AMC goes all out with Lestat on social media the way they gave Daniel his own LinkedIn page. I need him to have a twitter at the very least, but they could so much more.

[its-all-papaya]

oh. OH. the hollow hereafter completely DESTROYED me 😭😭 beautifully written; reading that one hurt!! i'm amazed by the way you capture the energies they both give off so perfectly, i was so hooked on the story i couldn't stop reading. thank you for the amazing work!! 🫶🏻 for the kiss prompt game: can we maybe get landoscar + 29 or 33? 🌟

AAAAAHHHH the hollow hereafter was pain indeed. glad you enjoyed, though ! thank you for the compliment !

shameless plug plug plug: read my fic 👉👈

as an apology, I present to you: even more post-hungary landoscar ! but much fluffier this time. hope you enjoy 🫶

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

33. as an apology | landoscar | 1.5k (absolute lmao)

In the dark of his Monaco apartment, Oscar can finally admit it to himself: he’s scared. The creep of fear had been there from the jump as he’d finished the final lap in Hungary, but he’d figured he owed it to himself to put it off in favor of other things. Elation, for example. He’d won a grand prix. It was a moment he’d been dreaming of since he was a child and he’d only ever get the one maiden win, so he’d shoved everything prickly to the background and focused on the glow of victory in his chest instead.

See, Oscar is good at compartmentalizing. His friends in primary school had joked that he’d been born with emotions missing. For a while, he’d figured he’d grow into it – that his feelings would stretch as he did, and he was just a bit behind – but it had taken him until after his first single-seater to realize there was nothing lacking in the first place. He feels things. Probably just as strongly as everyone else. It’s just that the world isn’t entitled to experience every emotion along with him. If he can share the good things when he sees fit and save the less-than-good to deal with on his own time, Oscar figures he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth about it.

And honestly, there’s probably nothing to worry about. Lando was moody, but he’d been moody after every race for weeks. Just because this week’s letdown had starred Oscar specifically, just because Lando had spent the whole flight with his hood up, forehead tilted against Carlos’ shoulder as they laughed together at whoever’s phone was funniest, that doesn’t mean there’s anything seriously wrong. They’re good at giving each other space, he and Lando. Oscar likes to think he can read his partner pretty well. And Lando had congratulated him – on the track and more than once after. Besides, Alex has known Lando forever, and he’d taken one look at the lay of things in the airport – Lando with Carlos, Oscar half a dozen seats away – and cracked a smirk about it: “At least if somebody’s sleeping on the couch tonight, it’s gotta be him, right?” Alex wouldn’t have been joking about it to Oscar if he thought Lando was really upset about anything other than the way the chips had fallen.

But the thing is… neither of them is on the couch. Because Lando is home, and Oscar is here, in his nearly empty apartment in his nearly empty bed. Past 5 a.m., awake, restless. Oscar’s lived in Monaco over two months, but he’s only spent a handful of nights in his own place. It had felt silly, at the time, piling boxes in the living room knowing full-well that half his closet and all of his heart already had a home in the city. This lease might have Oscar’s name on it, but his home in Monaco is about five blocks north, probably sleeping with his mouth open and his phone dying next to him, nobody to remind him to put it on the charger.

They’ve been fine. They’ll be fine. But (and this is the part he’s been avoiding) fine as teammates is different than fine as partners. Patting Oscar on the helmet and smiling for a group photo is not the same as curling up next to him in bed and saying I love you as one of them switches off the lamp. Being fine and being good are different, and the minute Lando had pulled up to Oscar’s building and told him to have a good night, that he’d see him soon, Oscar had stopped being either. Lando is sulky after bad losses and he gets upset with Oscar about things dumber than team orders, but they don’t sleep apart outside of race weekends. Oscar doesn’t sleep here. And he’s the littlest bit scared that he’s going to have to learn how.

Time passes. Oscar worries. He can see the sun rising through the cracks in his blackout curtains by the time he hears the front door open and close. He’s managed something close to sleep by then, though, drifting and fuzzy and outside rational thought, so he doesn’t immediately clock the noise as anything to react to. It’s not until his bedroom door clicks open as well that his brain comes back online for real. He lifts his head from the pillow with a sharp breath in, but there’s really only one person it’s going to be. There are two keys to his place and one of them is on the nightstand with his wallet and his phone and the other went home in the pocket of a man he’s never turned away.

Lando’s soft around the edges in the early morning light. His hand is a little chilly when it lands on Oscar’s cheek, gentling him back into the pillow. Oscar goes down without a fight, always easy for anything Lando’s asking of him. He does lift the covers a little, though, hoping his eyes are pathetic enough in the dawn to get him what he’s after. Lando smiles, soft, and thumbs over Oscar’s cheekbone, chases it with his lips. Now that his partner’s back in his proximity, Oscar’s exhaustion sinks in for real, like it had been waiting for permission. His eyelids are so heavy, thoughts slow and only on the edge of sensical by the time Lando gets out of his sweatshirt and his shoes and finally – finally – slides into bed beside him.

Under the circumstances, Oscar has to remind his sleep-stupid brain that he’d literally won a grand prix just over 12 hours back, because he wants to label the relief of having Lando back in his arms better than anything he’s ever felt. Better than any trophy he’s ever held against his chest. He wraps both arms around Lando and draws him closer, closer still until Lando’s head is tucked safely under his chin and Lando’s thigh is nestled comfortably between both of Oscar’s own.

They give it a minute, just breathing together, before Lando smooths his palm up Oscar’s chest and over his shoulder. He draws back just enough to look Oscar in the eyes, then leans back in to kiss him gently. He’s indulgent with it, lips and tongue sleepy-soft against Oscar’s, palm cupping Oscar’s jaw and thumb swiping back and forth, back and forth, towards the place where their mouths meet.

“I’m sorry,” Lando says when they finally part for a second. He presses another long kiss to Oscar’s lips. “For, like… lots of things. But mainly this, right now. Can’t sleep without you.”

Oscar chases his lips once, twice, then breathes in for a four-count, out for a four-count. Lando wrinkles his nose against the puff of Oscar’s breath against his face.

“Can’t either,” Oscar settles on, scritching his nails through the back of Lando’s hair just to watch his eyes go half-lidded with the feel of it. He knows Lando. He’s known Lando. “Thank you for coming. I’m happy you’re here.”

They’re both bleary-eyed, on the cusp of 24 straight hours of holding their eyes open and deciding how they’re allowed to look at one another, but Lando’s gaze starts edging towards the sharp, mischievous place that makes Oscar’s heart beat slightly out of rhythm.

“You know what else you are?” Lando asks, and he’s back to placing wet kisses down Oscar’s neck, hints of tongue every other, like he can sense when Oscar’s thoughts are starting to get coherent again.

Oscar tips his chin up, helpless, “What’s that?”

Lando takes his time dragging his lips back up, up to meet Oscar’s own.

“A race winner,” he whispers low against Oscar’s mouth, and his next kiss is deeper, dirty. His fingers dip low on Oscar’s hip and Oscar wants to, he does, but he can’t help the yawn that hits him as Lando’s lips trace back down his jaw.

Lando laughs into his throat about that. He presses a trio of closed-mouth kisses across Oscar’s shoulder, down to his clavicle, then noses back up and kisses him on the chin.

“Sleepy one?” Lando’s eyes are sparkling in the almost-darkness.

“Mm,” Oscar agrees, only a little mournful. “In the morning?”

“It is the morning,” Lando says, smirk on his face.

Oscar shoves at Lando’s chest, rolls his eyes, because who’s fault is that?

“In the afternoon, then, unless you’re going to be annoying about that too.”

Lando’s gaze goes soft again and he shakes his head a little. He kisses Oscar once more before settling back against his chest, like he can’t help it. Oscar knows the feeling.

They’re both quiet long enough that Oscar’s convinced Lando’s fallen asleep, but just as he’s about to follow, Lando’s knuckles drag up his belly and knock against his chest: “Oscar?”

His accent’s thicker when he’s drowsy. Oscar loves the way it sounds around his name. He brushes his lips across Lando’s forehead and squeezes his hip, “Hm?”

“Love you,” Lando says.

“You too,” Oscar says back.

The Monaco sun keeps rising, but they both sleep deeply, content.

[n3ptoonz]

Okay but like the whole save a horse ride a cowboy thing… for Arthur?

'Snake on a Train'

THANKS FOR 300+!!🖤🖤❤️❤️

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/F!Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption II

Warnings/tags: Smut; Explicit, i'm writing this like i'm from the old west bear with me it's really fun, post chapter 6 MEANING he's alive and DOES NOT have TB. never caught it. we live in delusion round these parts. dialogue driven y'all know me i love me some interaction, implied breeding knk, cowgirl, barely proofread writers block is fucking me up

fr tho read this in a southern accent shit is kinda funny i had way too much fun LMAO

i got so many arthur requests then realized i used THIS theme so i'm using this ask i hope those who sent in will find this!!

Word count: 2300

Never trust a "runaway" O'Driscoll ever again. You was on the run now, away from those freaks and needed a proper escape at least for the time being. Why you chose to not accept Arthur's offer of joining the gang was beyond you. You knew each other well in Blackwater before they had to leave, he suggested you join since you'd be a great addition and trustworthy, but you declined. Later on you were picked up by a "runaway", he sold you out and now you're high tailing it to the nearest escape.

You stumbled across a particularly high end looking train that looked like it was headed west--aka opposite way from this shit. Your initial intent wasn't to rob it, yet. You just needed a quick getaway from this madness. Quick and sneaky you were getting into the back past a few guards. You found an abandoned ticket under a seat and stuffed it in your pocket, walking around until you found an empty cart that looked quite fancy.

You kept your head on a swivel and constantly looked out the window for any suspicious activities when somebody barged in. You quickly stood up and drew your revolver when you realized who you laid your eyes on.

"...Arthur?" you said. His eyes adjusted from the sun reflecting off the window when he heard his name escape from your lips, recognizing your voice almost immediately.

"What are you doin' here?" you both inquired in unison.

"Put your damn gun down I ain't here to rob you." he said sitting down on one of the two seat chairs covered in leather. You slid it back into the holster with curious eyes still on him. Just how long had it been? Why was he here?

"You normally waltz into carts that aren't yours?"

"Ain't that what you did?"

...he had a point.

"Maybe, but I had a reason."

"You sayin' I'd hop onto a nearby train for no reason?"

"I ain't seen or heard from you in almost a decade, Arthur. I don't know what I know anymore. Where's the rest of Blackwater's finest?"

Arthur just leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. There was a deadpan look in his eyes as he recalled everything that went down in the last two weeks. All the betrayals and chaos started to montage in his mind all over again; how he was this close to death, but managed to escape somehow.

"Dead, on their own, or all the above. Remember John? I helped him and his folks get out. The others...well I don't rightly know where they are. And quite frankly I don't care."

You sat in front of him as you processed his words. What's understood don't need to be said, and you knew this well.

"Is that why you're here?" you asked. It felt like a question with an obvious answer but you honestly just wanted a confirmation. It wasn't like him to just run off, at least from when you last seen him.

"In so many words, I guess. Although I didn't expect to see a woman of your caliber running away from your bullshit either. I'd like to know too, if you don't mind."

"Oh hush that up." you waved his comment off dismissively, "I was sold out."

"Well I'll be. You know I always wondered what you were doing or who you decided to hang with if not us. Who in their right mind would sell out one of Blackwater's most wanted?"

In your time together you always had a playful relationship, but you could tell in his tone there was slight bitterness or sarcasm. Truth be told he started to feel some type of way when he realized you declined him just to end up with some other gang that clearly didn't give a damn about you.

"Watch yourself." you warned, your tone half serious half playful.

"What? You didn't want to be around folk who had your best interest that's fine. I won't say I told you so."

"When the hell did you tell me so?"

"The day before we left." he answered without hesitation. "The night we spent together? Ring any bells?"

Damn. You tried to forget that night since the day he had to leave and you too shortly after. You didn't want to remember all the fun you had. You didn't want to remember his hearty laugh at your stupid jokes. Hell...you didn't even want to remember just how good he treated you. He treated you like a lady, unlike most of the men you came across. All it took was one heated kiss, and you both were hooked. But also knew it couldn't be given both your circumstances.

When he offered for you to join you wanted to jump at the opportunity. So why didn't you? Because, well, you loved the man. You thought your own feelings would hinder the morale of the group somehow and break it apart, and you wouldn't dare that be on you. Plus you couldn't really tell where he stood. He's a guy who treated most people with respect despite how he grew up.

Back then he mentioned how people like them were hard to come by and that most gangs were either just downright pieces of shit or cultish. So he in fact did tell you so, and you tried to forget that as soon as possible. Didn't want any sort of thoughts of him clouding your mind or else you'd go crazy.

The only reason you two didn't get intimate that night is because he respected you and your boundaries. He still does. He didn't want it to feel like he was grasping on to the nearest thing to fuck with and then dip. That's not the kind of man he was nor will he ever be.

"What does that night have to do with why I'm here now?" you tried so hard to seem like it didn't completely take over your thoughts, but this is Arthur Morgan for christ sake. He's damn good at reading people.

"It can mean just about anything, sweetheart, but I know it meant something to you just as much as it did to me." he said. The tone of his voice sounded a bit like he was trying to convince himself that was the case. If it wasn't, he wouldn't know what to do.

You sat back in your seat but that didn't take away the feeling of his gaze pouring into your soul. "It did." you said looking down at your hands

"Then why decline? Was it me? I know it's not my lifestyle because we lived the same way."

"I didn't want to get in the way, alright? I knew you'd be gone often and would be out for days at a time while I worried if you'd come back in one piece. I've been there and done that. Wasn't doing that again."

Arthur leaned back up in his seat and ran his hand over his face, sighing. He didn't want to come off so strong, but he felt real feelings for you and didn't know how to process it properly. The woman who's been on his mind since the day the gang left Blackwater sat in front of him and he felt like a lost puppy all over again.

"Okay." he said softly, "Was I on your mind at all?" he continued looking down, mumbling under his breath but you still heard him.

"Everyday since." you said standing up. He slowly looked up at you with those pearly blues that never failed to capture you. He was just so relieved that it wasn't just him. That it wasn't one-sided. Grabbing his hand you pulled him up to meet your eyes--like he wasn't visibly looking down at you.

"I thought about you so damn much I guess I had to distract myself by running with some undercover O'Driscolls. I figured out who they was too late and voila, lawmen breaking down my door."

Arthur shortly chuckled upon hearing you explain more of your situation. To him it was unbelievable, and he never thought he'd hear that name ever again especially after seeing Colm swing.

"This evening is full of surprises. How do I know this isn't some big scheme to take me down once and for all?" he said while wrapping his arms snug around your waist and his voice grew more rugged and deep. Oh how he missed this. What this is, who knows, and who cares?

"I don't need some big scheme to take you down." you said placing your hands on his biceps, squeezing just a little bit. He smirked at this action and pulled you closer.

"That so?"

You hummed in agreement, and it didn't take long for you two to finally lock lips together after a bit of playful murmuring here and there. And just like that, you both were taken back to that night. That heated kiss you shared was the absolute highlight of your lives, and you intended to relive that again and more.

It's like you never left but kissed like it's been forever. He ran his cold palm up your back to hold you while the other unbuttoned your pants. Even after almost ten years, he didn't miss a beat. He still got it. Are we surprised? You followed his lead and kept one arm around his neck while the other attempted to pull him free.

His hands were quick and nimble like yours, so next thing you know your pants are on the ground and you're sitting comfortably in his lap. You was now clad in a loose collar shirt and underwear and his shirt remained unbuttoned at the collar. Your mouths never stopped dancing throughout this whole process too.

Arthur just kept groaning into your mouth at every subtle grind on his thigh. This was only the second time of you two getting together like this, yet it feels way more than that. That same drunk feeling from the night made its return and wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

You pulled back so you both could catch your breath, holding his face and running your thumbs over his stubble that was soon to becoming a full beard.

"I missed you...so damn much." you said in a tone just above a whisper.

"I can't imagine more than I have..." he replied while toying with the hem of your underwear. "Would you give this old outlaw the honor of... having you? All to myself?" he asked, looking deep into your eyes. You could feel him fully hard and his hands trembling a bit, but he still wants to hear it from you. One part is confirmation, but the other? He would easily gain satisfaction from knowing you want to give yourself to him.

"Well...I've saved a horse...and I plan on riding a cowboy," you whispered and smiled against his lips before leaning back in. Arthur chuckled into the kiss, wasting zero time pulling them panties to the side and slide right on in.

Your breath hitched as you eased on down his thick shaft. "That's my girl." he whispered, right next to your ear so he could physically feel you clench against him from his praises. You gripped his shoulders as your eyes closed shut, expelling light whimpers here and there as you set a place. He placed his hand on your back once again to encourage you, feeling a little smug at your struggle to keep up.

Best believe you weren't no bitch though; you swallowed thickly and kept on riding him. The ambience of the train was quickly fading as you two became lost in your own desire.

Were you expecting your orgasm to approach so quickly? Honestly, it made sense. Arthur knew all the right things to say and touched all the right places that churn your butter.

He was also nearing the end, and yet he had such a genuine smile on his face. He grunted with every time you sank back down into his lap and this meant he simply could not be happier. He's been dreaming of this moment forever, and finally. Finally, the woman of his dreams is having the time of her life because of him.

To keep yourself grounded you pulled his head up to rest your forehead on his, "Please, cum inside me," you begged. Your climax was seconds away from hitting you and you wanted to reach bliss at the same time.

You ain't have to tell him even once with how quickly he followed suit. Your hips slammed right back down into his lap as you both tried to stifle your cries of pleasure, still mindful of other passengers.

After you both calmed down in each other's arms, you cleaned yourselves up and plopped back down onto the two person couch you had just gotten intimate on. You held his bicep and laid your head on his shoulder with a content smile on your face. His the very same.

"You sure know how to get down for someone I ain't seen in a long time." he said playfully, looking down at you.

"Who said I ain't got none in a long time?" you replied a little too fast for his liking, looking up and seeing his expression comedically fall to a straight one. "I'm just messing, I wouldn't dare risk having anybody else's kids but yours." you continued casually before shutting your eyes. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the sound of his heart rate getting faster through his chest.

He chuckled, looking out the window at the scenery become painted with the pinks and yellows of the sunset passing by.

"You are something else."

[ndostairlyrium]

Blabbering ahead about the game in my usual broken English lol

Warning: General, mildly spoiler-y stuff. But still spoilery. Dead dove, yada yada

I tried to avoid reading opinions as much as possible, so I could share my own without filters <<

...this will be a looooong post so I'm putting everything under the cut :'

I've enjoyed this game greatly.

I loved Rook, each companion, the more synthesized visual style, and the majority of the changes they did to make this game stand out among the others. In some parts, it really reminded me of Mass Effect, and those parts I truly adored in a visceral way.

I get the criticism about Rook's tone, but I didn't mind that they had a specific personality and you could work around it. They're a mess of a person, showing a great deal of immaturity in some parts, forced to call the shots, and to be a compass for others while trying to keep everything from falling from their hands. They're just not as player-nuanced (like, it's not on us?) personality-wise as Hawke, I think? Which is a bummer for some, and I get it, but I didn't mind :'D I'm one that deflects a lot with humor, that's my jam

I think I did good approaching this game blindly, and to keep going despite encountering some major disappointments along the way (y'all saw me complaining, I'm a "yes, but" hoe). In the end, I was enthusiast about playing it, I've been enthusiast while playing it, and I'm enthusiast now that it's over (in a very positive way).

Also, to me the combat system was super fun (I had a blast playing orb+dagger mage with the necromancer spec). I liked that it was more dynamic, that you were in control of your character only, and I adored the cheerleading going on within the team during the fights, also the action scenes were SO EPIC. There are a couple of cutscenes in particular that I watch on a daily and feel the tension on my shoulders as if I didn't know the results already :'D

Hate to bring out Mass Effect again, but... I felt that same kind of powerless urgency throughout Veilguard. Except that you're not Shepard, already a hero, you're a nobody in disgrace, somebody looking for a purpose, for then being hired by someone who has a history of dooming whoever he works with :'D in my head, my Rook has accepted because he needed something to go right. Very lol. Much lmao.

Again, bringing out Mass Effect. I always adored Mass Effect important NPCs outside the party, like Bakara for example. I experienced the same kind of attachment to those here, and I was truly frightened for some of them throughout the game, especially the ones I've known from Tevinter Nights.

...now, to the "Yes, but" that had me so frustrated to the point of wanting to stop playing:

I just wish a little bit more sensitivity by the team when approaching specific cultural references. These, along with stereotypes, have always been blatant throughout the games, and I was hoping that in this one we would move past them rather than the doubling down I saw. I can't talk on others behalf, but I could elaborate for hours on why the whole deal of Treviso and the romanticising of Crows (to the point of painting them as the good guys) are such a point of offense for me, even if I'm tired to explain that there's nothing romantic when organized crime takes control over an entire country and call it "patriotism". Moral code my ass. Glorification of mafia is never okay.

Don't pillage take stuff from real life if you're gonna turn them like living stereotypes and excuse that behavior by calling it "inspiration". It's cheap and disrespectful. Fandom has been repeating this for more than 10 years and nobody corrected this trajectory. That's sad, to say the least.

[olderthannetfic]

Seeing your reaction to Imperial Uncle reminds me of why I never read "stock market" novels. Just tell me who the couple will be, I sincerely have no interest in "buying stocks" on my fav guy and hoping my gamble pays off lmao

--

Ahaha.

I did enjoy it in the end. Also, the yuletide request did not lie: OT3 would be very easy to write post canon.

I actually thought that some part of this novel would be about clearing somebody's name or romance at court or even a pure and uncorruptible official. That blurb is as much of a liar as all these characters!

One of my big issues with m/m novels is how many of them feel like a het romance from 1985 where there's literally nothing there but the romance itself. Give me an actual plot!

I think it helps that this isn't really a love triangle. There are a couple of moments where somebody's jealous, and the two love interests keep being weird about pushing our idiot protagonist at the other one, but most of the book is about political intrigue and the lead worrying about which characters he's going to be able to keep alive.

I just wish we got more of other characters' perspectives. The POV character is such a liar, including to himself.

[stillaclownlol]

Oh nooooo somebody stole my Aidlyn/Ashden headcanons so now I have to write more ... ✨️

(SORRY IM SPAMMING THE TAG 😭😭😭)

Some of these are based on my dad because he has bpd and he really reminds me of Aiden.

-His sense of humor is so broken like. Probably makes "that's what she said" and "your mom" jokes. Ash thinks he is the unfunniest person alive 🤡 and she STILL laughs at him (but never when he's trying to be funny). I think he'd be on Vine a lot lmao. He would laugh at that video of the bread slice falling over no cap.

-Aiden Clark, Professional Doomscroller. Maybe an itty bitty bit addicted to social media cuz "omg easy dopamine hit" even if he doesn't post a lot. Would prolly be chronically on TikTok if he was a teen today 🤡 Ash WILL steal his phone and hide it so they can "do something productive" (which alternates between her trying to teach him basic life skills to him falling out of a tree because they went outside for five minutes)

-her parents also gave him a truly awful shovel talk. He came out of it, kneeled in front of her, and said if he broke her heart to kill him before her parents did 💖 Tyler and him bond about their "scary in laws", although he has a better relationship with Mike and Emma than Tyler does with Mary and James 🤡

-convinced her to go to prom because "free food" and managed to wrangle out a slow-dance from her. He already likes dancing, SHE likes dancing...he wants to dance together ^_^

-She really likes his normal smile, when he's not forcing it. He takes good care of his teeth, so he's got a real bright smile :)

-Aiden tried to teach her how to skateboard a few times. She can...stand on it without falling off and roll around, but no tricks lol. Ash still thinks it was just an excuse for him to grab her hands or waist while she was balancing.

-Some problems in the relationship: they are not very good at communicating how they feel, so there's a lot of misunderstandings between them unless the gang intervenes haha ":D Sometimes Ash feels very suffocated by him and she really dislikes his apathy towards himself, and Aiden sometimes feels like Ash doesn't care about him nearly as much as he cares about her.

-his depressive episodes alternate between "I'm just gonna lie here and hope I die" to "actively trying to self destruct", sometimes he might go on a binge (overdosing on his meds, and when he's older he might sometimes drink too much or go on really dangerous joy rides, he's an awful driver), they really freak Ash out :( Recovery is a very long road with no end destination. She's trying to get better at reassuring him and he's trying to...just get better.

-both of them suck at remembering their anniversary 🤡 Aiden is a littleeeee bit better

-They have a knife collection they share ❤️

-he has her as "love of my life 💖✨️😍" on his phone contacts and has a special ringtone for her and everything. Absolutely not embarrassed about it, Ash...definitely is 💀 (she has him as "Aiden")

-sends her really bad poetry he wrote for her because writing his feelings down by himself is easier than saying it in the moment. Ash keeps all of them in a shoebox in her closet.

-she's not really good with touching and stuff but she feels better touching him, like a good stim. Really likes holding his face (no eye contact). Also enjoys him holding her hand.

-Secretly a little insecure about how she looks. She has never really thought about it before because she never cared about it, but now, in a relationship, she's kinda self conscious about him perceiving (read: constantly staring) her. She's very short and thin (even with muscles from ballet and training) and feels like a "late bloomer." Aiden thinks she's the closest thing to physical perfection that exists and will tell her this constantly ^_^

-She actually likes how he smells (grâce à: his really expensive soap lmao) but she would die before telling him lol

-The first time she kissed him her brain kinda shut off and she just squished their faces together while puffing her cheeks up. He bust out laughing and completely murdered the mood 💀 They'll figure it out...eventually

[maddieandangel]

Given the new Chapter 3/4 dialogue sneak peeks we got from the latest UTDR newsletter, I wanted to bring back this snippet of an old post from one of my other blogs:

Those lines REALLY give me hope that we'll actually be getting some sort of "Rouxls and Queen show up to Cause Problems On Purpose for the Fun Gang in the name of Comedy" scenario!! Or at least Rouxls and somebody, since Queen hasn't actually been confirmed to show up outside of Castle Town. I don't know what the E's mean at the start of each line (..."expression", maybe??), but Rouxls' "We're just hereth for the Snackse" and Lancer's "Oh-ho! You want some treats of the trade?" seem like they could be connected! They've both got that food theme, at least. So maybe Rouxls and Lancer team up for a silly fight? Father-son bonding in the form of being a mostly-harmless obstacle together asgsdgf <3. Or Lancer could help you fight Rouxls in some way possibly.

I'm more inclined to assume that this scene happens sometime in Chapter 3, rather than Chapter 4? Since both Rouxls and Lancer are still in Kris' inventory at the end of Chapter 2, and Chapter 3 will most likely begin with everyone already inside the new Dark World. So the two cards are basically guaranteed to make an appearance there! And also Toby seems to imply that, when the newsletter was being written, Chapter 4's localization process hadn't quite started yet. But there's nothing to say that they won't continue to stay in Kris' pocket for further Chapters despite the dangers of being statue-ified. I sure hope they'll be in every chapter, at least!

This scene happening in Castle Town might also be an option, though! And I've seen someone else speculate that Ralsei's "get ready for another fight" line might point to some sort of boss/enemy rush, which is a thing you can do in Castle Town's Dojo! So possibly Rouxls crashes a dojo challenge?

Though as I read through the dialogue again, (while also assuming that the E's are for whatever expression sprite is shown alongside the text, and not any sort of indicator for the order or time the lines are said), I'm inclined to say that the scene does actually take place inside the new Dark World, during the main story's events and not a post-Chapter side thing. Seeing as Ralsei only mentions Kris, maybe the party gets split again and Susie's not with them at the time? And after getting through some unrelated fights (some generic enemy encounters? Or dealing with the Dark World's actual antagonist(s)?), Ralsei and Kris finally find Rouxls, perhaps after he had once again run off to do his own thing at the start of the Chapter. He's also with at least one other person; possibly Lancer, possibly Queen (highly unlikely if it's Chapter 3 but as a Queenkaard Enjoyer I can have hope lmao), possibly someone new who he just met in this Chapter. And Ralsei immediately assumes that Rouxls is gonna start another fight, since that's what he did last time. But nope! Ralsei is wrong! Rouxls is just in the area for some snacks. He's not interested in a battle. Maybe he understands now that the Fun Gang is stronger than he initially thought, and that he won't be able to defeat them in a fight. Maybe he's even on their side permanently now and has no reason to oppose them---he does seem to still be trying to serve Queen even after Chapter 3, after all, as seen in Queen's room in that Chapter 3 preview/status update back in 2022. Regardless, that Lancer line is a separate image, so it's possible that it's from an entirely different scene. But again, it's got that same food/snack theming to it, so it could also be part of the scene and just a couple lines after the Ralsei and Rouxls exchange! Lesser Dad and son bonding moments? Please? Maybe Lancer followed Rouxls out of Kris' pocket this time around and they've just been hanging out in the new Dark World together <3 dgshshf

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Hello lovely ☺️ how scandelous would it be to ask for perhaps a sneak peak of the next chapter?

👉👈 perhaps a lil snippet? A crumb? 🥹🥺🫣🙌

*clutches pearls* oh my…oh dear…i’ve never been asked this before 😳 this is a first for me.

am i allowed to do this?? why does it feel illegal lmao 🫨

i mean you did ask very nicely & i am dying to show the next chapter to yall & i am indeed a strong independent woman who can do whatever the hell she wants so…here you go?? i guess??

disclaimer: it took me a very hot minute to decide which part to do & i haven’t edited / beta read anything yet so it might change a bit once i post the full chapter…also hopefully this scene makes some kind of sense to you out of context. double also this will be the ONLY part i share bc i don’t wanna spoil the whole thing 😤 but i hope you like 🤭🩵

—————————————

“So…” Spider-Man said, voice low but playful. “Come here often, hot stuff?”

Despite his best efforts, Johnny busted into a laugh, shaking his head from side to side. “Shut up, you loser,” he giggled.

“Wait, wait, I can do better than that. Somebody call the fire department, ‘cuz this guy is smokin’.”

“Is this you attempting to flirt with me? Corny pickup lines and cheesy one-liners? You really think that’s the key to my refined and sophisticated heart?”

“Well? Is it working?” Spidey asked in whisper, the words curling upwards just like the goofy smile Johnny knew he had on behind his mask. The Human Torch rolled his eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled fondly. The two of them kept their faces and bodies angled forward as they spoke, daring not to show any physical displays of affection with so many eyes on them.

“Pretty lousy atmosphere for a first date, if you ask me,” Spidey continued, quiet and coltish. “Some orchids or candles would’ve been nice.”

“You want to count this as our first date?” Johnny whispered back. “I was planning to take you somewhere with much better ambiance and way fewer older sisters around. Maybe rent a gondola and a string quartet or something. But if you’d like, we can always save that for date number two.”

Spider-Man shrugged. “Either way. Your idea does sound a lot more romantic than the humiliation ritual we’re about to be subjected to...”

Johnny ventured a look at the rows of heroes sitting in the arena’s viewing room and grimaced. “Especially with my teammates watching,” he said gravely. His gaze swiveled to his feet, and he swallowed. “I am so not good at this ‘keeping secrets’ thing, Webs. I really like you, and am obviously terrible at hiding it.” His hands knotted into fists at his sides. “So if you’re set on keeping this thing on the down low, we’ve really gotta sell the whole ‘platonic super bros’ shtick. We can’t do anything that even suggests that we like each other like that. Not with them watching us like fish in a bowl.”

Spidey faced him then, head drooping a bit. “I’m sorry I’m making you lie to your teammates,” he murmured. “I know firsthand how complicated it can get.”

“It’s all right. I lie to them about all kinds of stuff all the time.” Johnny smiled apologetically. “I just wish I was better at it.”

Spider-Man scratched the back of his neck. “Lucky for us, we’ll probably be too busy getting blasted by drones or pummeled by robotic thugs to do anything remotely romantic-y looking while we’re in here.”

Johnny elbowed him in the side. “Well, double lucky for us: we’ve done this exact drill in real life already, and won. I can’t imagine fake thugs or drones being any harder to beat than those insane kidnappers we fought.” Mischief tugged at the corners of his lips as he tucked his hands politely behind his back, raising his chin and tracing his gaze along the outline of Spidey’s throat. “And after we win this,” Johnny added, “I’m gonna drag you somewhere no one will bother us and spend the rest of the afternoon sucking on your neck until it’s all one big hickey. Sound good?”

A noise sputtered out of the masked hero that sounded like a cross between a cough and a squeak. Johnny clapped him triumphantly on the back as he strolled forward, whispering in his ear as he close as he dared as he passed by. “Best leave the flirting to the professionals, bug boy.”

——————————

TA-DA!! this feels so wrong but i hope it gives you a fun little taste of what’s to come heeheeHEEEE

[ohbo-ohno]

Genuinely perplexed by people who thing everything on the internet needs their comment/opinion, I see it all the time on tiktok and it honestly fries my brain that someone sits there and goes “what i have to say is really unhelpful and usually pretentious but i’ll say it anyway because i am the most important person alive”

Anyway, I think about your prison-guard-trans!Soap fic all the time and I think you’re an unspeakably talented author

it's soooo crazy omg like genuinely what happened to don't like don't read lmao?? the way people bitch when they see smth that makes them uncomfortable is so infuriating. esp when they try and take a high horse about it?? like okay fine whatever you think i'm a bad person, why did you feel like you needed to tell me that lmao? like what could you even hope to be accomplishing here??

i see it a ton in tiktok comments too, and so often it just feels so meanspirited. like you gain nothing from commenting smth shitty on somebody else's post, i truly cant imagine doing that shit. nobody needs to see that you think op is an idiot! you can just move on!

also tysm!!! i really enjoyed writing that one, and it was super fun to have ghost being a bit meaner than i usually make him 💞💞💞

[sleepanonymous]

helloouugh i have seen your tags from the ivy neck post lmao.. did.. something happen again in the fandom? i am not asking for details if you don't wanna give tbh, i just have seen nothing and i was a bit bummed out to see you saying you need ''unsee juice'', the boys can't catch a break. :/ i hope that was a 'general state of things' unsee and not smething recent

Hi Anon, ty for the ask 🖤😅 Yeeeah there was some very subtle but creepy drama happening on Reddit over the past 2-3 weeks. Tea below the cut, I guess? TLDR is everything turned out fine but was still a big "Yikes!"

I was a quiet observer of this one, and I'm pretty sure it flew beneath 99.9% of the fandom's radar. I feel kinda bad bringing it up after the dust has settled, but I guess it's my own fault for tagging that IVy's neck meme the way I did 😅

This stated around the beginning of the month, but to tell the story properly, I gotta start 10 days ago. There is an "identity friendly" Sleep Token subreddit where a girl commented under a post stating that somebody's "acquaintance" was mates with her big brother (III being the acquaintance mentioned).

That comment piqued the interest of one of my good friends, and with a little snooping on the commenter's Reddit profile, they found a post from 22 days ago under r/crushes titled something along the lines of "Are your brother's friends off limits? Age gap?" In the post the Reddit user talks about crushing on an older guy who is friends with her brother (👀), and how he used to like her Instagram stories until he deleted his social media late last year (👀👀). At this point, my friends and I were thinking this could be a coincidence or the user could be talking about III based off the similarities and sparse information provided.

I'm almost certain there was a second r/crushes post or an r/dating post, or comments made under other posts, where the user talked about getting invited by her brother to hang out in his "friend circle," where she asked for advice in flirting with an older guy that shares 0% of her interests. I can't find it linked in any conversations, and (spoiler alert) the user's Reddit was deleted.

By this point I, being a 30-something-year-old woman who used to crush on men much older than me when I was this poster's age, who knows exactly how damaging these age-gap relationships can be, felt extremely concerned for this girl (no offense to III). But I, as well as my friends, all decided to keep our mouths shut and not engage because it's honestly none of our business and we don't need to get involved anymore than we were.

Then there was a post under r/dating seven days ago where the Reddit user asked for advice in staying overnight at her new boyfriend's house. This post pretty much confirmed the Reddit user was talking about III with the information she provided in the post, but it's also where my friends and I concluded that this was most likely an entirely made up situation. This r/dating post literally read like the premise to a fanfiction: recently started dating her brother's older friend, she'd never been in a serious relationship but really likes this guy, he invited her to spend the night, and she has no idea what to expect. People were responding to her post with concern and genuine advice and she was engaging and thanking them and giving them more info.

This all posed two possible major issues: One, if this was real, and III had began dating his friend's little sister, she was posting all of this private information about him and their relationship online in a literal breadcrumb trail for Sleep token fans to find. Two, if this was fake, then what the fuck? What was she getting out of this? Was this some weird IRL Fanfic she was writing for herself, using Reddit as her platform and involving real people who were giving her attention, advice, and genuine concern? Was she trolling in the hopes that somebody in the Sleep Token fandom would be following along? Because that sadly did work.

In a very anticlimactic manner, because I can't explain how, why, where, or who, it was found out that III was not, in fact, dating this person at all. Within half a day of me and my friends finding that out, the Reddit user had deleted her profile. I have no clue if someone reached out to her (nobody in my friend circle did) or if she maybe received the same information about III and was embarrassed by her actions online.

Honestly, for III's sake, I hope that this entire thing was some crazy daydream fantasy of some random girl with absolutely no connections to Sleep Token whatsoever. I hope that it simply blew out of proportion and that III had absolutely no idea about the posts the user was making. Also, for the user's sake, I hope she sticks to ao3, ffn, and similar places for these weird fantasies.

Anyway, yeah. Some people don't know how to behave online and they also need to stop bothering III and stay out of his personal business for god's sake.

[hainethehero]

Me again!

“When did the rules of fandom and fanfic become so absolutely strict & rigid to the point where people aren't allowed to like what they like??!!!” – bit off topic, but oh boy, have you not noticed the rise of “purity culture” in fandom in the past 10(?) years? People have been getting a LOT of hate for ships they ship or tropes they like. It’s definitely not restricted to buddie fandom or 911 fandom.

“Why do you care if people really like Eddie or not? Are you the Eddie police?” – This made me laugh. And the answer to the first question is pretty easy – if people really like Eddie, they’re more likely to post content about him that I can reblog and enjoy, such as fics or gifsets or meta etc. If everybody disliked Eddie, I’d have nothing fun to read/look at/engage with! So in that sense, I do care to an extent.

“I'm guessing if they have him in their pfp, they like him. And I'm guessing if they have him in their pfp, it's also respectfully none of your concern.” – Well, you’re right it’s not my concern per se, except that if I go scrolling a diaz/eddie-named blog, hoping for good Eddie content to reblog, and I run into a heap of BT posts or LJFR posts or Tommy posts, it’s a bit of a jumpscare/disappointment (which has happened several times). And yes, I filter tags, but people don’t always tag appropriately!

“your absolutely strange questions about what I envision for Eddie/who he'd end up with (I think u should be concerned with what you envision for him & not some stranger on the internet” – Why is it so strange to want to know what somebody else thinks and perhaps gain a fresh perspective? I already know what I would like for Eddie. I was curious about what you thought.

“He'd still be Buck's best friend if BT ended up as endgame

He'd be in a polyamorous relationship with them and get all the d*ck he wants (my personal preference)

Or the writers will give him another gf” - Anyway, so you like the option of eddie in a throuple with buck and tommy? Ok cool! My curiosity is satisfied!

What gets me about the whole "purity culture" in fandom that you're talking about, is that YOU'RE DOING IT. 🤣 you're doing it right now!

What's adding to this disease of purity culture in fandom is what most of the toxic buddie stans are doing RIGHT NOW. Yall are hating on Tommy with absolutely bad faith arguments and using every opportunity you can to deny the fact that you just don't like him because he's in the say of your preferred ship.

"I got a jumpscare seeing Tommy when I was looking thru the eddie tag" lmao okay that was funny. But like, the insane hatred for him is so weird. Y'all know whether buddie becomes canon or not, you can still make them endgame through fanfic right????

And yes, if more people were concerned with how they felt about their characters, instead of how other feel, we would avoid all this fandom war. You asking if people who had Eddie as their pfp really liked him or not IS entitled. You don't know why they have him as their pfp, so why question it? You're not entitled to know.

And in the referred ask, you wanting to know how someone who liked BT and Buddie would envision Eddie fitting in to the relationship- was totally your confusion at not being able to fathom that people could like both and still want buddie or BT to be endgame. Which is a trait I've observed in MOST buddie stans and some BT fans (which I DID address in my OP).

[bropunzeling]

Since you say you love to chatter, I hope you don't mind being asked a few questions :)

what's a scene/detail/piece of dialogue etc that you really wanted to include in [fic of your choice], but you couldn't find room for? here's your chance!

if you had to write an epilogue (or sequel!) to any of your fics (that you are NOT currently planning on writing an epilogue for), which would it be and what would happen?

for the ships you're currently writing about (and have written for in general), is there usually one character you like more than the other? (will you tell us who? has it ever changed?)

what's a ship/fic idea you want to read about but don't want to write yourself? maybe somebody will be inspired!

share anything you'd like about a wip!

aw thank you anon! especially for the opportunity to procrastinate on working on my current wip :) answers under the cut:

some dialogue that i ultimately cut from the spain scene in marriage bets where they were having tapas (originally there was going to be ALL this flirting over the tapas and then it went on too long so i got straight to the questions):

"You're not going to eat that?" "Hey, I tried it." "You're so American." "It's the texture--" "Such a wimp." "I'm sure plenty of people aren't into eating octopus." "Uh-huh."

if i had to write an epilogue or sequel:

oh gosh. i think a lot about the one where marriage bets matthew and leon get married for real for real, with suits and their families present and everything. it WOULD involve matthew finally telling brady that he was not, in fact, the first tkachuk to get married. the other one i think about is, of course, rat baby in a cup. she reigns eternal.

is there a character in a ship that i like more than the other?

i think it's hard for me to enjoy a ship where i don't actually like one side of it! that said, there are definitely characters where i find it much easier to get into their headspace than others. i've probably said this before, but leon is such a straight line thinker and so easy for me to get that for a long time it was hard for me to try and write anything from matthew pov because his is a little more twisty-turny. they're both equally complex! but it requires different skills to get the effect i want, which is normally the pov character not having a clue what the other one is thinking. it's a lot easier to have leon misreading matthew than the other way around. except now of course i've written a lot from matthew pov so finding my way back to leon pov has been a challenge.

a ship/fic i want to read but don't want to write:

god what DON'T i want to read. lmao. i would love for someone to write a good achy jamie/trevor post-trade fic. i would love for someone to write a long slow friends-to-lovers matthew/sasha fic! i would REALLY love a brady/quinn future fic. especially if it features divorced brady. i feel like future fic especially is a trope/concept that i just feel less comfortable writing so whenever someone else writes it i eat it up with a spoon :)

share anything you like about a wip:

well the wip is going SO SLOW and is VERY HARD for me because im challenging myself by writing a slow burn and cant rely on sex scenes to do the chemistry work for me this time rip rip. but here is a wee snippet:

“Draisaitl. Tkachuk,” Coach says, gesturing at the starting line.

Leon gets ready, bracing his stick over his thighs. He’s already raced Jordan and Gourde—beat Jordan, beat Gourde—but he hasn’t had to go against Tkachuk yet. Hasn’t had to do much of anything with Tkachuk yet. Yesterday they were at the other end of the line from each other, or opposite sides of the rink. It had lulled Leon into a false sense of security.

Now, though, Tkachuk is watching him with that way that he has, like—

One time, while making kebabs, Leon got a splinter from the bamboo skewer under his nail. It hurt like a bitch, had him cursing for five minutes until Jenna told him to stop squirming and tweezed it out. The splinter had been miniscule, almost impossible to see, and Leon had wondered how something so tiny could be so aggravating and painful, would make him do anything just to get it to stop.

That’s how it feels when Tkachuk looks at him. How it’s always felt. Like his gaze is digging in under Leon’s skin, until Leon’s entire body is red and inflamed. It makes Leon want to scratch at his shoulders, his chest, until he can finally tear Tkachuk out.

[valenhui]

“for old times sake” + performance unit

scenarios with svt’s performance unit based off of this post. cws: angst lmao, some angst some fluff—mainly bittersweet, non idol!au, gender-neutral!reader (no pronouns mentioned), unedited.

jun: you’re at a wedding, not yours or his, but you’re both there and almost everything is like what you both once dreamed of—but it’s not for you or him.

you saw him when he arrived hours before but only acknowledged eachother with a quick nod before resuming whatever you had been doing prior. it isnt until couples are filling the dance floor as soft music plays through the speakers that he finally approaches you. or did you approach him? perhaps you met eachother halfway, neither of you seem to really mind.

its been so long since you’ve last seen him. you had both come to the agreement that a relationship wasn’t possible. not yours at least. your paths were leading you both two separate ways and while there are—and have been—occasions where your paths briefly intertwine, it would not last. despite the mutual decision you both came to four years, you still haven’t moved on to somebody new. and with the way he held and guided you so gently out to the dance floor, it appears like he hasn’t either.

“for old times sake,” he had reasoned when you looked at him confusingly at his offer of a dance. “this was once our dream, no?”

it was. from the venue to the season down to the song for the first dance, this wedding had been what the two of you once hoped to experience at your own wedding one day. you hope in another life, somehow, the circumstances were better.

“for old times sake.” you repeat after him, allowing yourself to savour the moment instead of dwelling over what once was and what could’ve been. what’s done has been done and you both knew deep down, it wouldn’t have worked in the way you would’ve liked no matter how hard you tried. not in this life at least, so while the chance is there, you hold onto him just a little tighter—as he does to you—and lose yourself to the rhythm of what could’ve been.

hoshi: “soonyoung?” your voice is groggy from sleep, eyes barely even open as your prop yourself up on your elbow with the phone to your ear.

the line is silent for a brief moment, save for some shuffling, before you finally hear his voice. “y/n hey, did i wake you?”

if you were even half awake, you would’ve shot him a sarcastic remark but you were far too exhausted right now so you figured simply agreeing with him would be easiest.

oh how wrong you were.

when he finally ended the call with a quick “thank you so much, i’m about twenty minutes away right now. i’ll text you when i’m there.” your head hit the pillow once again and just as you were about to fall into sleeps embtace once again, his words finally registered in your mind and you nearly shot out of bed at the realization.

unfortunately for you, he was already on his way to your apartment and the guilt would eat you alive if you were to suddenly turn him down when he had called asking if he could crash at your place. tapping your phone, you groaned at the reflected time: 2:37am.

might as well get up, he’ll be here soon anyways. you thought to yourself as you slowly got up from the comfort of your bed, already missing the warmth you so desperately wanted to crawl back into.

heading to the the kitchen, you got yourself a glass of water and decided to sit by the island until you got his text. in the silence, you could hear the soft pitter patter of rain outside your window and you wondered what could’ve possibly happened for him to have called you out of all people asking to spend the night. typically you don’t crash at your ex’s place after a breakup.

i’m here! you read the text and smile as you hear the soft shuffling outside your front door.

“hey.” he greets you warmly when you open the door. his jacket is soaked but he shakes off the excess water before stepping foot into your apartment and you silently thank him for the action before closing the door behind him.

“do you need to take a shower?” you asked and he shook his head.

“it’s fine really, just need a place to spend the night. i won’t stay long, promise.” he says and you wonder if it’s the exhaustion that says it’d be fine if he did. the drawer filled with his clothes still remain anyways.

“thank you, i’ll be fine. go back to sleep, i’m sorry for waking you.” he’s gently pushing you towards the direction of your bedroom but you only move an inch before you’re turning back towards him with a small frown. “what?”

“i cant let you sleep on the couch.”

“then the ground.”

“soonyoung!”

he bites back a grin, only adding fuel to your slightly annoyance that he only finds adorable.

“come,” you give him no time to protest before grabbing his hand and guiding him towards to your room. “i’ll get you a blanket.”

he stands awkwardly by your bed after taking off a few layers, leaving him in only a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants while you rummage through your closet for a spare blanket. you hand it to him with a nod before getting back to bed, your exhausting weighing heavy as you fight sleep just long enough to watch him crawl onto the bed with you, leaving a noticeable distance between you two.

a smile makes its way to your lips but sleep seems to reach you quicker as a quiet “night soonie.” reaches his ears and despite having lived in this apartment with you some time ago, it feels awfully new now that the two of you are no longer together. everything seems unfamiliar now, yet this feels oddly nostalgic.

“y/n?” he calls softly, watching as you mumbled something he couldn’t quite make out in response. the only coherent thing he could catch was his name before you’re suddenly inching closer to him making his hold his breath.

“y/n.” he tries again to no avail, seeing as you’re now nearly curled up against his chest. despite having asked for a place to sleep for the night, he finds it difficult to even try falling asleep when his mind is struggling to process what is happening and what he should do. he didn’t want to overstep but he also feared possibly waking you up again if he tried to get you to roll back onto the opposite side of your bed.

it also didn’t help that you looked so peaceful like this.

i’ll be gone be gone before sunrise. he eventually told himself. he would be gone before you woke up and neither of you would have to worry about what happened. it would be like he was never here in the first place.

closing his eyes, he selfishly allowed himself to savour moment as your soft breaths lulled him to sleep.

“for old times sake.” he told himself. he would be home by sunrise, and the two of you would go back to being strangers.

now if only he had actually left before sunrise.

minghao: “oh my bad,” your voice startles the man sitting idly on the swing. “i thought no one would be here, i didn’t- i should go-”

he calls your name as you begin to turn around. you’ve forgotten how it sounds rolling off his tongue.

“yeah?” you turn towards him, and when you do, he’s gesturing to the empty swing seat beside him and you know deep down you should just leave, you need to get over him and while avoiding him isn’t necessarily the smartest thing, it’s easier than fighting to not fall for him all over again. but then he’s flashing you that charming smile and reasoning that it’s “for old times sake” and you find it hard to say no to him. it always has—but somehow not when he first brought up the idea of ending it. you push the thought to the back of your mind for now. and so, despite your head screaming at you to turn around and walk back home, you find yourself sitting on a swing set beside minghao as he listens to you talk about the stars up in the sky.

you were hesitant at first, only briefly making small talk before he curiously asked about a particular constellation it’s the first one you ever showed him. there’s a fond expression on his face as looks at you—distracted and all too consumed by the stars above—that hasn’t seemed to disappear even after your relationship came to an end.

he wonders, sometimes, if the stars remembered when he’d bring you to this park every night when you were younger, listening closely as you talked about whatever it was that was currently on your mind. he wonders if they remembered watching the two of you; reckless, young, but oh so inlove with one another. he wonders if they remember how many nights he's sat here, heart aching in his hands as he wished for anything that could make him yours again.

they do remember, and perhaps it is out of pity that tonight, the stars seem to shine brighter as if allow you the moment you’ve relived so many times in your youth. for old times sake.

dino: your friends weren’t good at being subtle. or at least you hoped they were trying to be subtle.

your relationship with chan had ended two years ago and despite choosing to still remain friends, it was evident that your friends seemed to believe that there was still a chance of relighting that old flame. perhaps they weren’t wrong.

“it looks like its going to be just us.” chan said when he realized that the rest of your friends had already paired up whilst in line, leaving the two of you left as the ferris wheel operator motioned for the two of you to get on. he flashed you a small smile, almost apologetic, as he extended a hand out for you to take.

glancing up at the pods your friends now occupied, you shot them a scowl before hastily taking his hand and getting into the pod of your own. his hand still in yours even after you’ve both even seated and the ride started. you didn’t notice until he readjusted his hand so that your fingers were now intertwined and you looked down at your hands in slight horror.

he simply gave you a smile before turning to look out at the shoreline. “for old times sake.” he said, referencing to your first ‘date’ where nearly the same situation had happened. the only difference between them and now was that at the top of the ferris wheel chan had finally confessed after months of claiming to be ‘just friends’. this time, he only holds onto your hand tightly, squeezing it almost reassuringly while avoiding your gaze altogether.

“chan?”

his expression was soft when he looked at you, the devotion he still holds for you practically leaking out as he hummed in acknowledgment at your call.

“nothing.” you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. he smiled in return.

for old times sake.

[alexas-fandom-and-random-blog]

Omgggg I just saw your Striker post about all the theories AND YOU GET ITTTTTT

The recent surge in Striker has royal blood bc of Satan’s reveal has been wild bc we haven’t even seen the dude’s face to truly confirm if they look alike (but ppl are saying so anyway). Like I’m not against this theory entirely, I think there’s a couple ways it COULD work but everything you said about it diminishing so much of Striker’s character and story HITS THE NAIL ON THE HEAD because that’s exactly what this would do.

So much of Striker’s character has been built around his vendetta, his hatred for bluebloods, his reputation, and how’s he’s an example of just how bad things in Hell can get for an Imp like him BECAUSE of them being on the bottom of the hierarchy.

His story fits better as just some dude who wants more for himself because he feels he deserves more than what scraps are handed to him but the society he lives in just constantly beats him down despite his efforts (or the narrative in some cases LMAO). He wants so desperately to be somebody in a world where he’s forced to be nobody at the bottom. It’s why he admired Blitz back HMF for building his own business.

The fact he’s still grieving and is still very angry over what happened to him to the point he physically and violently reacts whenever his hypocrisy is called out (Stolas & Fizz) shows that things go deeper than simply not getting a parents approval or being abandoned.

Not to mention if Striker had blue blood in him, you would think he’d have some strings to pull to not live in the cave he resides in or he’d be recognized more outside of his wanted posters.

There’s just a lot that this idea contradicts about Striker’s character that we already know and I’m so glad you put it into words.

Just wanted to add my two cents and this got so long omg i’m sorry, striker’s taken up so much of my brain space the last couple years LMAOO

You!! You get it!!

Thank you! I love you!

Honestly same. I could talk about Striker as a character and his potential for hours so I really liked reading all this extra meta and commentary you added!☺️ Thanks for sending it!❤️

And basically this yeah. Turning it into more daddy issues would be a huge disservice. We got enough characters to explore that already so it's even less compelling to have another repeat of it. Also the extra reasons it would make no sense and create plotholes as you mentioned 👌

I did indeed also start writing the post out of frustration for this latest theory that has been getting traction with Satan and Striker and ended up including everything I've found off putting over time.

I really hope the actual show doesn't go that route cause it would be messy and very unsatisfying and I'll be the first to admit that hellaverse writing falls into underwhelming writing choices all too often despite all its merits and I basically don't trust it 100%

Fingers crossed and hoping for the best 🤞

[thousand-winters]

I hope YOU'RE doing well pal! 💖💖💖 I'd love to hear your Laios and Hooty thoughts

Actually now I'm thinking about them interacting and how cursed it'd be haha

I am today!!! It has been a good day for once haha. I hope you're having a good day today, and that your cats are doing good!!!

Oh, my gods, I can't decide if they would get along like a house on fire or if somebody would end up dead ahahaha. Or if Laios would consider Hooty looks stupid considering his reaction to Marcille's sky fish lmao 😭 I'm sorry, Hooty, you technically ARE a worm.

Okay, getting into it now, starting with Laios:

How I feel about this character

I love him!!! He ended up not being my favorite because I adore Marcille with my whole heart but he's such a good main character, honestly. I wasn't thinking too much about it when I started watching, I was just having fun and I think it showed already that he wasn't just a silly character or anything, but man... the moments he got the most serious, he had me in shambles haha.

I enjoy him very much, it's really cool to see the ripples in his relationship with both monsters and humans. There's so much to him that I'm yet to see too and I'm looking forward to it, he's definitely not the kind of main character you're kinda sick of and want to leave already haha.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I have been swayed to the Labru side, finally, haha. I think they have a fascinating dynamic and while I certainly haven't seen everything they have to offer, the push and pull there makes it very compelling. Plus I'm not immune to cool fanart and funny posts, not gonna lie, but the main reason is that they seem to have a very compelling dynamic, not exactly direct or straightforward in its development and that really has me dying to see more.

I have been seeing Lashuro recently too and ngl, I've been going 👀 at that too. I remember I had talked with my friend Isis about how it was sort of funny that the Toudens do have very similar traits when it comes to how they view the world sometimes and yet Toshiro finds one annoying and the other charming. Probably in part a mix of attitude and gender, I'm not sure. Although in all fairness they seemed to be pretty at peace at the end so... I think it can be fun.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Marcille!!! Oh, they have so many good scenes with one another, they have such a fun dynamic, I love how much Laios trusts Marcille despite also knowing she can do shit like pour boiling water on an Undyne lmao.

In general they're very fun, the mix of them bickering but very obviously valuing each other's opinions and caring about one another is really good. Also I think it was you who said once they had siblings in lae energy and I can't unsee it ever since, they really do haha.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I haven't seen this much around tumblr or such, and I know the Dunmeshi Spanish fandom has the worst takes known to mankind but man, he's not dumb, come on now.

I doubt this is really unpopular and I especially need to actually read the full manga to understand his character more, probably, so I don't have too many complex opinions about him but... I feel like it's somewhat common to see him depicted as stupid but he's such a smart character, actually? He doesn't have to be the tropey nerd character to be smart, he has been shown to be very perceptive, even if he might be lacking on that department when it comes to social matters.

I just think writing him off as just being clueless and dumb is doing a big disservice to his character. He does have his struggles when it comes to general awareness and specific types of it but he's far from dumb.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I truly cannot speak on this one since I'm not done with the manga, haha. I have been spoiled a bit by some really cool fanart and animatics, I'm not gonna lie, so I have the gist of some big things that are coming but since I have the idea and not the actual development of it, I don't feel like I can speak on any of it, nor do I have any concrete ideas there anyway.

So far I'm pretty content with everything I have seen, both anime and manga wise.

And now onto Hooty:

How I feel about this character

I love him. I get why he annoys a lot of people in and out of universe, he's one of those silly cartoon characters that's not supposed to be super deep (although what's up with Papa Titan having a Hooty in his eye? I still need answers about that), but I like that he's always sweet and loves his people even if they're mean to him. I'm so happy Lilith came along and started appreciating him, it's what he deserves!

I think he's fun in general. I definitely would love to think more about the deeper implications about his existence, how did he even meet Eda and all about that, but I have to admit I don't think enough about him most of the time to even have ideas in that department. He's just silly and I appreciate that.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

None, this is how you get the cursed image of Hootlets. Does anybody wants Hootlets? This is how we get them.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

LILITH!!! Their friendship makes me SO happy, they're adorable. I definitely didn't see that one coming but I like how they ended lowkey balancing each other with Hooty reminding Lilith to care for herself and that she should depend on others and Lilith remarking upon Hooty's own worth to the point he's not seeking attention desperately anymore after they become friends because he's far more content with his friendship. It might have been more about how the writing around him changed too, but I liked to think the fact they became friends also helped the rest of the Owl Fam to soften around him and appreciate him more.

I love that in the end Hooty is living his best life just going around with Lilith.

My unpopular opinion about this character

He's not THAT annoying except in the Spanish dub. And I'm saying this as a chronic "obnoxious cartoon mascot hater" haha. Hooty is obviously supposed to be a little much but I don't think it ever goes to the point in which you actually want to strangle him or wish he wasn't even in the show in the first place.

At least that's what the experience was for me, I'm aware opinions differ but I think Hooty is pretty fine as he is, honestly.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Going back to that thing with Papa Titan and the Hooty eye... hey, what was that? Can we go back to that real quick? I really wish we had found out what was the connection between titans and... whatever Hooty is. I know Dana said at some point a specific youtuber had made the right theory but I could never figure out who was it and what did they say haha.

Anyway, yeah, I wish they had gotten into that. It would be Hooty AND titan lore all in one.

Thank you for the ask!!! From this ask game