#this is NOT implying romance no nope never in a million years

[red-bat-arse]

So, in the future Eliot gets old just like anyone, moves town less and less, helped along by the CIA level hacker who set up his fake IDs. One day comes a knock at the door, and it turns out to be Molly Connell, the girl he watched over during a job way back when. Molly emulated Eliot after he left, and eventually gets into a line of work similar to his. It was hard not to when she got in deep enough and actually found out who he was; when all her hard work pays off and she finds out where he is, of course she’s going to visit him. I also saw a fic where a few kids the team helped ended up becoming the next gen of Leverage Inc and Molly was the hitter, so that too.

[creideamhgradochas]

Thanks to the lovely @youngmoneymilla for taking the time to answer these! Get to know more about lovely Eliza, go give her a follow and then show her some love!

These questions are from this list. You should check it out, there’s 50 questions all together and they’d be great to ask your favorite fic writer!

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fan-fiction?

13

2) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

I did love writing OC’s because I have a lot of fun with physical description. However, that was when I wasn’t aware of Reader Inserts since I just recently came back into the fanfic world. Reader Inserts are great because I have to work that much harder on giving them a backstory/personality and not focus at all on physical description. Plus, everyone gets to read the work and hopefully find themselves in it. The only thing I hate is being unable to use a name. I can’t write “Y/N” bc it bugs me haha.

3) What is your favorite genre to write for?

Ummm Angst probably? I’m a huge horror fan so, I’m trying to incorporate that into more work.

4) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

“It Would Have Made it True” just because I didn’t really connect with it that much and the ending was rushed.

5) When is your preferred time to write? 

11 am to 10 pm haha. I’m an asshole and write a lot during my job.

6) Where do you take your inspiration from? 

I have about a million fics bookmarked from over the years, literally fics from when I was in high school to now. They’re so gorgeously written and they inspire me to write. I pretty much only read non-fiction outside of fanfic so, that doesn’t really work.

7) What’s your favorite scene that you’ve written?

Bathtub/Bedroom scene in the second part of “Bungalows and Baths”

8) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

Yep. In one fic, I included a descriptive characteristic for the reader that implied she was white. It hadn’t even occurred to me but, I immediately fixed it when someone pointed it out.

9) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why? 

Tossup between Bucky and Steve. Bucky has the very obvious trauma and grief that’s interesting to write about but, Steve has a lot of buried darkness that’s subtle and extremely intriguing.

10) Who is your least favorite character to write for? Why?

Maybe Bruce? I don’t care that much for his character (despite the fact I love Hulk)

11) How do you come up with the titles for your stories? 

A lot of the time, it’s a line that’s said throughout the narrative. However, I have a word doc filled with random quotes I like and I usually throw something together. I always think up the title at the end and it’s always an afterthought. Titles blow.

12) What do you think is the best idea you’ve had for a story so far?

I am currently writing a Bucky x Reader fic (TRYING TO AT LEAST) that is going to take the team to New Orleans. It’s going to involve vampires since I wrote a novella about vampires back in high school and want to re-explore that mythology. However, there is going to be a lot of twists and it won’t be an AU, it’s just introducing the possibility of vampires in the MC universe. The reader and Bucky will both be struggling with the idea of themselves as monsters and trying to help themselves through that. It’s going to be a lot of voodoo and magic and angsty “will they, won’t they”. I’m going off on a tangent now but, that’s the gist. I have not written an actual series in a long time so, this would be my first one.

13) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

There are many half-filled one- page word docs on my desktop that are rotting away as we speak. I just get bored or think of something else.

14) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I’d love to do more fics with the same reader from Bungalows and Baths.

15) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

Lol I’m actually annoyed with how I ended 6 Times right now. Not sure why.

16) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

Omg I admire so many but, here are a few.

@bitsandbobsandstuff – obviously for her “Safe with Me” piece which is fantastic, emotional and well-paced. Pacing/keeping the reader on their toes is the hardest thing for me in a series and so, I really admire her ability to do that. I also LOVED her “A Million Invisible Threads” piece because it’s such a gorgeous character study on the Winter Soldier

@a-splash-of-stucky  – She’s the Queen of Angst duh and a GORGEOUS writer. I love her stuff. A Messed Up Place left me weak.

@imhereforbvcky – Her “Mirror for the Sun” fic inspired me to start writing from Bucky’s POV actually. She’s just a beautiful writer.

@tilltheendwilliwrite – I love everything she writes. I love all the mythology she brings to her fics while still staying within the Avengers universe. Her smut is on another level, too. I find myself rereading her stuff again and again.

17) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

Here and there. There are definitely moments in a fic where I think why did I keep that. It’s usually because I ended it too quickly or just wanted it over.

18) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? 

I love music when I write fics. It’s all movie scores. I have a spotify playlist for it.

19) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

I’ve cried (ish) when writing anything that has to do with alcohol/substance abuse. I’ve been in and out of AA for the past two years and have finally started recovery again. I also have depression so, writing about that can leave me raw. Writing truly always helps though.

20) Which part of your fics have been the hardest to write?

SMUT. Jesus Christ. I struggle so hard with making smut sound hot, as well as lyrical so, it can fit with the narrative. I don’t want to reuse anything I’ve used in other fics before or repeat words but, it’s SO hard (pardon the pun). I always forget what position they’re in and where the body parts need to go. It’s legitimately why I have yet to write a Stucky x Reader fic. I can’t introduce another person into my difficult SMUT journey.

21) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? 

I usually have a general idea and I’ll have a very vague outline going. I just write everything out like word vomit and go back and edit.

22) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fan-fiction? 

That some of the best stories I’ve read aren’t necessarily the ones with the most likes or comments. I stumble upon stuff and wonder “HOW DOES THIS NOT HAVE 2K LIKES”.

23) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

That’s tough. Maybe the stuff I wrote in the beginning where I didn’t have many followers. I loved the concept of “You Don’t Mean for it to Happen” but, sometimes I want to rewrite the whole thing. I put a lot of myself into “I Think of You All the Time” but, I feel like that got some good traction. IDK.  Bungalows and Baths got a crazy amount of love. Did not expect that but, v grateful.

24) In contrast to 23 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? 

Nope. I appreciate any love haha.

25) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Well, I think it goes without saying that every reader character has a little bit of the author in there. I think I pull from some of my friends but, not really.

26) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? 

Someone once said that their soul was marked by “Bungalows and Baths” which was amazing haha.

27) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I haven’t really gotten criticism other than that time I screwed up on including a feature for a white reader. I felt terrible about that.

28) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

Not really. I don’t have people to share them with haha.

29) Do people know you write fan-fiction?

My best friend knows but, she doesn’t read fanfic. Shockingly, my mom and sister know but, I told them that they could never read them. I just share reviews with them. My mom likes to know that I’m staying creative.

30) What’s you favorite minor character you’ve written? 

Oh jeez idk if I have one. Natasha isn’t considered a minor character but, she usually plays a side character in my stories and she’s fun to write for.

31) What spurs you on during the writing process?

Once I get started, I’m usually good at keeping it going. Music helps.

32) What’s your favorite trope to write?

Probably slow burn romance or one of the lovers is injured/captured. I also am a huge sucker for love triangles because I’m greedy AF.

33) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

Lawl this might not have been the first one but, I read a Lizzie Mcguire SMUT piece when I was maybe in 6th grade and was severely chilled to the bone. I was trash even at 12.

34) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Angst. I always write better when I’m emotionally distraught and tortured. Although as I get older, I realize this isn’t fabulous for my own mental health.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Do you think there’s a plausible non-Destiel explanation for the “who you love” line? It seems that with this subtext usually there’re multiple possible readings (like it could be read either platonically or romantically (like “I love you” in 12x12) or either about Dean n Cas or not (like the pining Mildred picked up on)) But with 13x04 I don’t see the text offering an alternative. What else could possibly be implied here?

It could just be mocking Cas in general for having feelings, which tbh if you go all the way back to 4x10 and look at what Anna said about angels, he’s not supposed to have fear or doubt or anything, never mind a romance for the ages. But I mean that’s always been more along the lines of what Heaven enforces and not the literal make up of angels - the fact they CAN doubt but get killed for it or run away and fall is proving the point and the Empty would be the last thing to actually be enforcing random rules like that or setting a compass by them. If Cas felt bad for it, maybe, but his season 4 arc escalated him so quickly through all that stuff that unless his story does tragically end with him being like “nope, don’t like it” and scuttling off back to be a regular old angel like he wanted at the end of season 9 when it hurt too much, there’s also no point judging him for his personal feelings about feelings no matter how much crap Cas might bring to the table from what basically amounts to another life for him, even if it *was* millions of years of his existence. He’s demonstrably happier and more comfortable when he gets to be himself around the humans he considers family, when he gets a chance to have that. And his personal arc is just too  huge and wide-ranging for him not embracing being what he clearly wants to be to  be the desired end result of it for him.

Which basically leaves that it’s specifically about personal relationships, in which case the only 2 options are specifically that it’s a callback to 12x12 but Cas somehow didn’t feel like the Winchesters making a stand on his behalf and taking him home after was enough to prove they consider him family and love him back in their own way, and that he STILL feels unwelcome as a whole and as if he doesn’t belong or would be rejected, which is something he’d have to work out with Dean regardless. Or it’s specifically about how he feels about Dean because that’s his main point of contact for emotional drama anyway, and he died mid-fight with Dean over stuff that had been going on since 12x19 but has its roots down in everything they shared (and if it was the “family” explanation would still be entirely on Dean to answer and make Cas feel better over anyway)… Or it’s saying this is about how he loves Dean and specifically his feelings about that… 

It’s all just getting more and more specific on a theme that has been connected to Dean the entire time Cas has known him anyway, though. :D

[adamcoled]

change pt. 3 | pete dunne

pt. 1, pt. 2

A/N: The last part of this lil series! [’: Pete is so fun to write and I hope I wrote him well. 

Tag Friends: @heelturn-timesten, @crookedmoonsaultpunk, @lahey-trash, @xfirespritex, @blondekel77, @nickysmum1909 (I tagged the same people as last time!)

Neither of us felt particularly inclined to reveal to many people that we were dating. There was no reason to, and if we did, most would probably hide their shock and disbelief that Pete Dunne could be anything more than a one night stand behind forced smiles. The kind of smiles that show a million stories beneath it easily. It wasn’t that we were hiding it, just that we opted to keep it subtle. Our closest friends knew, which included Tyler, who couldn’t even try to suppress his surprise at the news. He was happy for us, happy that Pete had finally waken up from whatever emotionless coma he fell into over a year ago, but it was the way he struggled to find words at first that told it all. There was, and always would be, a lingering worry that Pete hadn’t really change. Habits are hard to break.

I couldn’t blame him; it was a thought I had too, though I wished I didn’t. Relationships depends on trust, which I had in Pete, but there were occasional doubts when I remembered his past with women. And Tyler had known Pete longer than I have, knew him better, and he’d thought he would never see the day Pete tried commitment again. My months knowing him had nothing on Tyler’s years.  

Only a little over a week after things between Pete and I became official, Tyler and I found ourselves sat upon a couch in my apartment as I waited for him to speak; he’d turned to me, opening his mouth to say something before he stopped himself. When I didn’t look away, he sighed, realizing he couldn’t drop the subject there.

“Pete really has changed, huh?” he finally settled on, his words chosen wisely. It was a sensitive subject, since he didn’t want to stir any trouble or qualms.

“It seems so,” I half-smiled, fiddling with my fingers absentmindedly.

“I’m glad you’re the one who knocked some sense into him. Got him to actually feel somethin’,” Tyler returned my smile before it faltered ever so slightly a second later, “I know it may seem like Pete is confident about everything, but let me tell you something between you and me.

“He hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing. I mean, he’s doing a pretty good job so far, but I’m tellin’ the truth when I say he’s come to me for advice on this whole thing more than once. It’s all new for him and…And I’m just asking you to stick by him.”

His sudden speech confused me entirely, its origins and meaning blurred by how cryptic the whole thing seemed. Did Tyler doubt I was in it for the long run? Had Pete said something that spurred on this spiel? The whole thing seemed odd, making Pete seem like the vulnerable one for once. Tyler had every right to protect his friend, but Pete wasn’t someone who needed protecting.

I turned on the couch to face him, even though he remained looking forward at the movie we’d long forgotten. He only made brief eye contact with me, refusing to turn my way. “I will,” I assured him, my voice stern as I hoped to convey my utmost dedication, “Where’s this coming from?”

Finally, Tyler shifted towards me a bit, releasing yet another sigh. “It’s gonna take him some getting used to and I truly think you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to him. I don’t want to see him go back to the shitty things he was doing if he loses you.”

Little did Tyler know, I had signed up for crazy, not for easy. I had every intention to stick by Pete, even when things got hectic or even if it wasn’t a typical relationship or if he wasn’t good with admitting his feelings. So far he had done a damn good job of keeping a smile on my face and anyone who could do that deserved a chance.

Word got around about us two months later, when we’d become more obvious in our actions and everything was going oddly….perfect. I’d watched as Pete became more and more open, a genuine gracing his face often as opposed to his signature snarls and smirks. It didn’t take very long to decide I liked a smile on him best.

He’d even taken on acts that threw me off at first, them being out of his element entirely. Like carrying me from my bed all the way to the couch at 8 in the morning.

“Pete,” I groaned, knowing full well it was too early without even looking at the clock, “Put me down and let me sleep.”

He chuckled, setting me down on the couch with ease. “I gotta leave soon, didn’t you say you wanted to send me off?”

While he was right, I needed at least another two hours of sleep and/or a cup of coffee to wake me up properly. The night before, I’d told him to do whatever he see fit to wake me up before he had to head to the airport. It was a decision I was regretting massively right now. Then again, I couldn’t let him leave for a week without even getting out of bed to say goodbye.

“Nope. Just go.”

It was a joke, he and I both knew, but I couldn’t help but get a little worried when I heard his footsteps make their way to the front door and an “Alright…”slip past his lips.

I shot up from the couch, suddenly wide awake, peering over it to see him by the door, albeit empty-handed. He wouldn’t have even thought about leaving like that.  “You know I’m kidding. C’mere,” I grinned, standing on my knees on the couch to match his height, since he was standing directly behind it. He was in front of me in a flash, immediately burying his head in my neck and biting harshly at the skin there.

“Wish we had more time,” he growled, annoyed by his restrictive schedule, pulling back before he could get too distracted.

“Me too,” I sighed, “In a week.”

My reminder did little to satisfy him, in fact he looked all the more irritated. “A week,” he repeated, “Too damn long.”

“That’s nothing. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I betta get going so I can get back as soon as possible.”

The whole thing seemed straight out of a romance movie or something of the sort, yet I was living it with Pete of all people. I’d have laughed at myself for imagining such a scene in the past, never believing it could ever come to fruition. Now that it had, I was absolutely enraptured by it. If you focused on moments like these specifically, ignoring our challenging circumstances and his daunting past, you could almost believe nothing set us apart from any other couple. Besides his career as a WWE-employed wrestler and forgotten habit of casual sex, that is.

But so far, so good. I knew it couldn’t stay so good forever, because good things never last, right? At least I could hold onto this tiny fragment of perfection, knowing that a storm will always await.

And so it stormed. It was gradual, starting with arguments over curt replies or lack of time together or lesser important topics like him leaving trash around when he stayed over. Eventually, it progressed into days spent apart, not because of distance, but because neither of us wanted to see each other. At some points, I considered ending it; clearly, things were going downhill and would end in a break up, anyway. Why not get it over with sooner?

Before I could act upon these thoughts, I’d remember Tyler’s words and the unspoken promise I’d made to do just what he asked. It was easy to say I would stick by Pete when all was well; when we were arguing more often and going without contact until someone decided to end the childish silence treatment, it was much harder to stay true to that promise. But, it would be incredibly weak to run away the minute it got difficult, and so I forgot my idea and instead decided to fix things.

I’d stopped worrying about the little messes left behind following his visits and stopped the stupid bouts of ignoring each other. My hope was that if he saw my attempts and determination to stay with him, the one who had proven himself time and time again throughout our seven months of dating, he’d make the effort, too.

When that didn’t happen, I just wanted to know why. Why was he suddenly so disinterested, so different, so similar to the Pete I’d never gotten to meet, the one he left behind? Why was he not trying to hold onto what he’d tried so hard to build? Finally, he had something worth holding onto in his life, and he was just going to let it go.

What was really sad was that I couldn’t do the same.

Coincidentally enough, when he ended it, it was raining quite hard and the thunder was pounding ravenously. It had come with a vengeance, seeking some darkness after all those months Pete and I had spent happily. We were lying beside each other in complete, utter silence, the only sound being the heavy rain hitting the roof relentlessly and the booming thunder that struck every so often. I wasn’t asleep, I was glancing out of the window, watching the chaos outside, deciding the chaos that lie right in that very room was even worse. I didn’t know if he was asleep, since we hadn’t said a word to each other since hours ago.

The bedsheets rustled and I felt him turn, meaning he was now facing my back and if I just turned around myself, we’d be face to face. Something was preventing me from doing so, and so I stayed in place, eyes never leaving the gloominess outside.

“This has to end,” he announced suddenly, his voice raspier from how late it was. It didn’t take long at all to figure out what he was implying, and I wasn’t very shocked when he finally said it. Those words must’ve been on his mind for a while now.

“I just want to know why, Pete,” I replied, voice dejected and broken and a lot calmer than it should have been, “I tried so hard and you didn’t try at all.”

Thunder stole his words, louder than any of the recent ones we’d heard. “I know. I’m sorry for that.”

Though he didn’t say the words specifically, I was relieved he didn’t. I didn’t need to hear them to know what this meant and I wasn’t sure I could take hearing them, either. And when I came home one day to notice all of the clothes and belongings that had made home here because of his frequent visits, I knew for certain he was gone.

We didn’t keep in contact, which left me wondering if I was grateful for it or resenting it. The closest connection I had to Pete in the days and weeks to follow was Tyler. There was no way I could cut him out of my life, too.

When he found out what had happened, I’d made it clear that I tried tirelessly and Pete took it all without any intent of reciprocating. Maybe his old ways had kicked in, but for so long we seemed so happy. If it was all a ruse, Pete was an outstanding actor and he put on a hell of a show.

Tyler, on the other hand, was convinced it wasn’t. He knew Pete well enough, but when he insisted this wasn’t him reverting back to his old self, I couldn’t help but doubt his words. There was no other explanation I could think of, and this seemed like a pretty solid conclusion.

I didn’t know the lengths Tyler was willing to go to to prove his friends case until he invited me to his apartment, a seemingly innocent act. When I arrived, however, I stood outside of the door, hearing an ongoing conversation from inside. Just as my hand went to knock, I recognized the voice speaking- of course, it was Pete. And I was the subject at hand.

Tyler had planned it all out, for me to arrive when he and Pete were discussing me. Curse him for being so damn clever.

“You really fucked up,” Tyler quipped.

“You think I don’t know that, mate?” Pete growled, his face definitely contorted in anger, “I didn’t come here to have you state the obvious.”

“Right, you came here for advice, because you really haven’t got a clue how to let good things happen. Don’t get all pissy when I say this, but I think you’re scared.”

Tyler paused for a moment and I could assume Pete had opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, but Tyler had moved on before he could get the words out.

“Just listen, alright? You’re afraid of how she makes you feel, right? Because you’ve never felt that way. And you don’t know how to act, so you just broke things off. A really bad decision, might I add,” Tyler finished, the silence on the other end making it unclear if it was the truth. I hadn’t even thought for a second that Pete’s actions may have stemmed from fear. The word didn’t even seem right in the same sentence as Pete.

But if they somehow were the truth…

Without giving it a second thought, I tapped my fist on the door in quick succession, the door flinging open moments later. Tyler was on the other end, since it was his apartment, but my foolishness had me wishing it was Pete. Rather than greeting me, or saying anything at all, Tyler called out to Pete instead. “Pete! There’s someone here to see you.”

My eyes widened, unprepared to face him after all this time, my mind completely lost as to what to even say. I had thought of a million and one insults and questions, but when he was right in front of me for the first time in weeks, all of those disintegrated and were replaced with an overwhelming desire to be his again.

“You’re welcome,” Tyler said before pushing Pete out and shutting the door, the sound of the lock resonating behind us.

“Tyler did this, didn’t he?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Then again, I didn’t even know if Pete had any idea of my arrival, either. The whole thing could have been, and probably was, concocted by Tyler without either of us having a clue. It was impressively thought-out, but still didn’t eliminate the bit of aggravation I felt. Clearly, Tyler was trying to do something good for the both of us, and I was grateful for that. But that didn’t mean he had to arrange something like this, leaving Pete and I standing in the hallway uncomfortably.

If Pete felt any of the annoyance I did, he didn’t show it. He took this as his chance, offering his hand before retracting it once he realized it wasn’t in his place to do that anymore. “Come on,” he instructed, “Let’s go for a drive.”

And so I followed him to his car, getting into the passenger seat I’d sat in so many times before, the atmosphere feeling almost identical to those previous experiences. It was almost like there was nothing wrong between us, until we sat wordlessly for five minutes that would have been filled with teasing and laughter a month ago. This awkward, tense situation reminded me of what we’d let go of, ripping me from the brief recollection of happier days.

My fighting was over. I had fought on my own for our relationship, now it was Pete’s turn to do the same. I wasn’t going to be the one picking up the pieces and gluing them together only for them to crumble back to shattered pieces. It was one thing to say that to myself, it was another to actually act on it and demand him to try for once. “What are we doing, Pete?” I questioned tiredly, running my hands over my face in distress, “If you’re not going to talk, then just take me back to my car.”

“I’m trying to gather my thoughts. You know this isn’t easy for me.”

If I was supposed to feel sympathetic, I didn’t. This entire situation wasn’t easy for him, but nothing about us was ever easy and if I had done it, he sure as hell could do it too. My fingers tapped impatiently, a wordless sign that he had limited time to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

“I made a huge mistake,” he finally settled on, “I know I did. And I’d be lyin’ if I said I don’t regret it every second. I don’t know if you’ll eva take me back, not after how I left ya. But I was a coward.”

He chuckled, unfit for the situation, though he must’ve been laughing at how he was admitting such a thing about himself. Pete Dunne who had girls lined up for him, screaming his name and vying for his attention, Pete Dunne who was a huge star and had a bright future and not a single fear, was a coward. I almost laughed, too.

“I worry that I’ll fuck this up somehow and that you’ll leave. I guess it wasn’t you leaving that I had to worry about,” he finished, and while it seemed like he had plenty of other things to say, I took his silence as a plea for me to say anything at all.

When I tore my attention from the scenery outside the window, I took note of how tightly his fist was clenched around the steering wheel and how his face was devoid of any emotion. I had seen a lot of expressions from Pete, but none at all was a first. “You fucked up real bad,” I agreed, causing his grip to get a little tighter as he sensed the conversation wouldn’t be going how he intended, “And yet I still can’t get you out of my mind.”

There was no use in hiding that face, it was the plain, simple truth and I wanted him to know how invested I was in him. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t going to leave, so long as he didn’t push me away. It was a two way street.

“I miss you, I really do. But how am I supposed to trust that you won’t just walk out again? Or that you won’t just give up?” My voice was getting a little louder by now, my emotions getting the better of me as I stopped trying to bury them beneath some strong front. Tearfully, I confessed how he had broken that trust he’d worked so hard to build and silently cursed myself for letting the tears fall.

When he reached out, wiping the droplets away before they could slide down my cheek, I cried even harder because truthfully, there was no way I could ever be certain he’d stay this time, and I knew my heart couldn’t take a sudden disappearance once more. Even knowing all this, I couldn’t help but embrace his touch, finding comfort in it as I waited for his reassurance.

“I don’t have an answer for you,” he admitted, pulling his hand away, “All I have to say is that seeing you cry right now made me damn sure I never want to be the cause of it again. I swear, this time it’ll be different. I swear it.”

Pete was a man of his word and from then on, he stuck true to that promise. People say promises are meant to be broken, but then again, they also say people can’t change. And I had witnessed the purest form of change in front of my own eyes, witnessing Pete go from someone I would have hated to the only man I’d ever truly loved.

[sansa-hand-of-the-king]

So according you Tyrion, aka the Lannister man who molested and lusted after his child bride and her claim and is currently a dark mess obsessed with his first wife Tysha while thinking his second wife had a hand in Joffrey's death and is pretty fucking bitter about it, will have a "tragic love story" with Sansa Stark. lol ok, sure. I can see D&D's flawless, Nice Guy™ version of Tyrion falling for her and vice versa maybe. But in the books? Nope. Most likely Sansa would have a romance w/Sandor.

Anon, first things first: Hello to you too! 

As for the ask: 

I think tyrion in ADWD is at this bottom, he is upset  with the world and himself. Just like Sansa/arya/dany/jon/bran. In the books they are left at their lowest point in their narrative. Sansa seems to be following littlefinger steps (not a good thing), Arya seems to be deep in her “no one” training, dany is embracing her “fire and blood” stuff (which seems to lead her to the path her mad father has taken), Bran is losing himself becoming the three eyed raven and doing awful things to Hodor, and finally Jon has died (betrayed by his own brothers). So its not just Tyrion who is in a “dark mess” as you put it, its every main character in the story. 

As for any Sansa and Tyrion possibile connection (or as I said in my tags) “tragic love”. I dont mean to imply it will be a passionate romance, my theory (well more like ramblings really lol) its that the relationship between them will be based on an understanding of sorts, a comfort betweeen the two of them, not sexual at all. 

For me Sansa and tyrion have many parallels (and anti-parallels) with another (not really loved for a good reason) couple: Dany and Drogo. Both Sansa and Dany are forced into this marriage, they are afraid of the consumation of the marriage. Both these women later understand that they were lucky, and they were (are) worst men and even miss their husbands (this is a coping mechanism for both girls of course, just like the unkiss was for Sansa) 

 For me they will have the same ending: tyrion dead to defend Winterfell (his by right because he is married to Sansa), like drogo died after promising Dany the Iron throne (her (and his) by right). 

Let see the  quotes about dany  wedding night, and Sansa’s:

“No, my -if �� He pushed himself to his feet. “Don’t lie, Sansa. I am malformed, scarred, and small, but…” she could see him groping “… abed, when the candles are blown out, I am made no worse than other men. In the dark, I am the Knight of Flowers.” He took a draught of wine. “I am generous. Loyal to those who are loyal to me. I’ve proven I’m no craven. And I am cleverer than most, surely wits count for something. I can even be kind. Kindness is not a habit with us Lannisters, I fear, but I know I have some somewhere. I could be… I could be good to you.”   He is as frightened as I am, Sansa realized. Perhaps that should have made her feel more kindly toward him, but it did not. All she felt was pity, and pity was death to desire. He was looking at her, waiting for her to say something, but all her words had withered. She could only stand there trembling.   When he finally realized that she had no answer for him, Tyrion Lannister drained the last of his wine. “I understand,” he said bitterly. “Get in the bed, Sansa. We need to do our duty.”   She climbed onto the featherbed, conscious of his stare. A scented beeswax candle burned on the bedside table and rose petals had been strewn between the sheets. She had started to pull up a blanket to cover herself when she heard him say, “No.”   The cold made her shiver, but she obeyed. Her eyes closed, and she waited. After a moment she heard the sound of her husband pulling off his boots, and the rustle of clothing as he undressed himself. When he hopped up on the bed and put his hand on her breast, Sansa could not help but shudder. She lay with her eyes closed, every muscle tense, dreading what might come next. Would he touch her again? Kiss her? Should she open her legs for him now? She did not know what was expected of her.   “Sansa.” The hand was gone. “Open your eyes.”   She had promised to obey; she opened her eyes. He was sitting by her feet, naked. Where his legs joined, his man’s staff poked up stiff and hard from a thicket of coarse yellow hair, but it was the only thing about him that was straight.   “My lady,” Tyrion said, “you are lovely, make no mistake, but… I cannot do this. My father be damned. We will wait. The turn of a moon, a year, a season, however long it takes. Until you have come to know me better, and perhaps to trust me a little.”

His smile might have been meant to be reassuring, but without a nose it only made him look more grotesque and sinister.   Look at him, Sansa told herself, look at your husband, at all of him, Septa Mordane said all men are beautiful, find his beauty, try. She stared at the stunted legs, the swollen brutish brow, the green eye and the black one, the raw stump of his nose and crooked pink scar, the coarse tangle of black and gold hair that passed for his beard. Even his manhood was ugly, thick and veined, with a bulbous purple head. This is not right, this is not fair, how have I sinned that the gods would do this to me, how?   “On my honor as a Lannister,” the Imp said, “I will not touch you until you want me to.”   It took all the courage that was in her to look in those mismatched eyes and say, “And if I never want you to, my lord?”   His mouth jerked as if she had slapped him. “Never?”   Her neck was so tight she could scarcely nod.   “Why,” he said, “that is why the gods made whores for imps like me.” He closed his short blunt fingers into a fist, and climbed down off the bed.

 and here we have dany (the same fear that Sansa has but a total different ending…)

Khal Drogo stared at her tears, his face strangely empty of expression. “No,” he said. He lifted his hand and rubbed away the tears roughly with callused thumb.

“You speak the Common Tongue,” Dany said in wonder.

“No,” he said again.

Perhaps he had only that word, she thought, but it was one word more than she had known he had, and somehow it made her feel a little better. Drogo touched her hair lightly, sliding the silver-blond strands between his fingers and murmuring softly in Dorthraki. Dany did not understand the words, yet there was warmth in the tone, a tenderness she had never expected from this man.

He put his finger under her chin and lifted her head, so she was looking up into his eyes. Drogo towered over her as he towered over everyone. Taking her lightly under the arms, he lifted her and seated her on a rounded rock beside the stream. Then he sat on the ground facing her, legs crossed beneath him, their faces finally at a height. “No,” he said.

“Is that the only word you know?” she asked him.

Drogo did not reply. His long heavy braid was coiled in the dirt beside him. He pulled it over his right shoulder and began to remove the bells from his hair, one by one. After a moment Dany leaned forward to help. When they were done, Drogo gestured. She understood. Slowly, carefully, she began to undo his braid.

It took a long time. All the while he sat there silently, watching her. When she was done, he shook his head, and his hair spread out behind him like a river of darkness, oiled and gleaming. She had never seen hair so long, so black, so thick.

Then it was his turn. He began to undress her.

His fingers were deft and strangely tender. He removed her silks one by one, carefully, while Dany sat unmoving, silent, looking at his eyes. When he bared her small breasts, she could not help herself. She averted her eyes and covered herself with her hands. “No,” Drogo said. He pulled her hands away from her breasts, gently but firmly, then lifted her face again to make her look at him. “No,” he repeated.

“No,” she echoed back at him.

He stood her up then and pulled her close to remove the last of her silks. The night air was chilly on her bare skin. She shivered, and gooseflesh covered her arms and legs. She was afraid of what would come next, but for a while nothing happened. Khal Drogo sat with his legs crossed, looking at her, drinking in her body with his eyes.

After a while he began to touch her. Lightly at first, then harder. She could sense the fierce strength in his hands, but he never hurt her. He held her hand in his own and brushed her fingers, one by one. He ran a hand gently down her leg. He stroked her face, tracing the curve of her ears, running a finger gently around her mouth. He put both hands in her hair and combed it with his fingers. He turned her around, massaged her shoulders, slid a knuckle down the path of her spine.

It seemed as if hours passed before his hands finally went to her breasts. He stroked the soft skin underneath until it tingled. He circled her nipples with his thumbs, pinched them between thumb and forefinger, then began to pull at her, very lightly at first, then more insistently, until her nipples stiffened and began to ache.

He stopped then, and drew her down into his lap. Dany was flushed and breathless, her heart fluttering in her chest. He cupped her face in his huge hands and she looked into his yes. “No?” he said, and she it was a question.

She took his hand and moved it down to the wetness between her thighs. “Yes,” she whispered as she put his finger inside of her.

In the wedding night  of drogo and dany there was passion while in Sansa and tyrion night there was pity and awfulness all around, and yes I agree with you  tyrion bahaved badly  in that charapter. BUT later tyrion was way (WAY) better to sansa than Drogo was to dany. (LIKE MILLIONS TIME BETTER…) As these quote show: 

Khal Drogo ignored her when they rode, even as he had ignored her during their wedding, and spent his evenings drinking with his warriors and bloodriders, racing his prize horses, watching women dance and men die. Dany had no place in these parts of his life. She was left to sup alone, or with Ser Jorah and her brother, and afterward to cry herself to sleep. Yet every night, some time before the dawn, Drogo would come to her tent and wake her in the dark, to ride her as relentlessly as he rode his stallion. He always took her from behind, Dothraki fashion, for which Dany was grateful; that way her lord husband could not see the tears that wet her face, and she could use her pillow to muffle her cries of pain. When he was done, he would close his eyes and begin to snore softly and Dany would lie beside him, her body bruised and sore, hurting too much for sleep.

This is NOT ok! Drogo was an brute and yes he assulted her. Lets see tyrion what does: 

Sansa’s misery was deepening every day. Tyrion would gladly have broken through her courtesy to give her what solace he might, but it was no good. No words would ever make him fair in her eyes. Or any less a Lannister. This was the wife they had given him, for all the rest of his life, and she hated him.   And their nights together in the great bed were another source of torment. He could no longer bear to sleep naked, as had been his custom. His wife was too well trained ever to say an unkind word, but the revulsion in her eyes whenever she looked on his body was more than he could bear. Tyrion had commanded Sansa to wear a sleeping shift as well. I want her, he realized. I want Winterfell, yes, but I want her as well, child or woman or whatever she is. I want to comfort her. I want to hear her laugh. I want her to come to me willingly, to bring me her joys and her sorrows and her lust. His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. Yes, and I want to be tall as Jaime and as strong as Ser Gregor the Mountain too, for all the bloody good it does.- Tyrion about Sansa.

No. He was only… he was…” Kind? She could not say that, not here, not to this aunt who hated him so. “He… he had whores, my lady. He told me so.”- sansa about Tyrion 

As for Sansa and Sandor, I love thier relationship, how Sandor is (like Tyrion) a way  for Grrm to make her face that awful truth and stop lying to herself. He is (much like tyrion) disillusioned about life and songs. He wants her to wake up and finally understand that life is not a song, that knights are about killing and that she needs to be more mature. 

Sansa inspires to Sandor a sense of chivalry, but thats her character. Sansa is the maiden in the tower, the survivor, her “power” is her compassion, her vulnerability, her charms. She brings out this sense of protection from people, she make man want to defend her, to be honorable: she does it with Dontos, with Tyrion, and with Jaime too. Its how she goes on (and how i think she will make it to the very end). 

As for Sansa she in no doubt attracted to Sandor, she admires how strong he is, how fierce (and the unkiss  proves that). But no I dont think Grrm will make them endgame. Sandor destiny for me is to die saving one of the stark girls from the others  (a dog will die for you, but never lie to you) (my theory: Sansa). 

Besides Sansa is too much like her father, she is too dutiful to ever marry for love. She will do her duty until the very end. (her relationship with Sandor is the opposite of Dany relationship with Jorah: there is attraction but not trust). 

In conclusion imagine  tyrion like Icaro (the myth) flying (with his dragon Rhaegal) and falling  down. Think of the roles both had in the battle of the blackwaters: Tyrion the (unexpected)  commander and Sansa the one who consoles and protects the civilians (the women and the children), but in Winterfell fighting the others. It will be their moment to shine, without Cersei around or tywin.  But no sexual relatioship between the two, just a union based on two  hurt and vulnerable people who lost a lot and need someone who understands.