#wow i got way more into this than i thought i would

[bigfan-fanfic]

I'd Hammer in the Morning (Male!Reader x Thor)

Part One

"What do you mean, you're quitting?" Tony practically shouts.

"Hey, hey, I didn't say the Q-word."

"But you are."

"I... I'm going to be moving to Asgard, Tony. I can't be your personal assistant from a realm away."

Tony fidgets, swinging an arm in your direction. "A 'realm away?' Look how they've got you talking - you can say 'realm' with a straight face!"

"Please don't make this difficult." you try to get that stern but kind note in your voice that Frigga gets when managing Odin or Thor, but you don't quite get there.

"Fine, I won't. Recharge, I don't accept your resignation."

"Pretty sure it doesn't work that way."

"Don't care." Tony quips petulantly. When Pepper walks in, he immediately bursts out. "Recharge is quitting!"

Pepper smiles at you. "Yes, he is, and we're so excited for you. Congratulations, Y/N."

Tony's jaw drops.

"I know it's short notice, but Tony's going to host your goodbye party before you leave, if that's alright."

"I am?"

She silences him with a look. Oh, there it is.

"Fine, fine..."

And with that, after an all-too-wild party that Pepper does her best to manage, you're ready to leave Midgard as your primary residence.

Thor meets you atop the Avengers Tower, the burning runic circle etched into the helipad, little drones already trying to clear up the ash and cinders.

You run to his arms, excited to see him.

"Did you truly think I would not wish to witness every moment of your arrival to my home? Our home, now." Thor chuckles.

"No, I actually thought I was going to awkwardly have to call Heimdall."

You notice a few other Asgardians are here, glancing around interestedly. "Father is eager for your arrival. He assumed you'd have more... luggage. Insisted I bring porters."

You don't really have much more than a couple large suitcases and a few boxes to contain everything you own. Tony had insisted on digitizing all of your books and movies and games and ensuring you'd have communication and internet even on Asgard with a tiny prism he assured you had a copy of JARVIS on it for your use.

It's his way of showing he cares, because he can't go more than two sentences without snarking, by law, apparently.

"Wait... your father is eager for my arrival? I... I kinda thought Lord Odin wasn't too fond of Midgardians."

"No, he's not disdainful, simply... he worries about me. Our... lifespans."

You balk instinctively, the notion that Thor may long outlive you a little depressing. "Oh."

"But he seems to be much more open. So either he has a plan, or you have simply won him over as a mortal that can wield Mjolnir and learn my mother's seidr."

You do recall Odin becoming more warm to your presence, especially once you got over the hump of learning magic and started to transcend your electrokinesis. Frigga, of course, loves you. "A plan? To, like... deal with my lifespan?"

"Perhaps. Mother mentioned something about a coronation gift."

"Wow, all of this for your boyfriend? They're that eager to have me?"

"All of Asgard is eager. To be completely honest..." Thor chuckles, almost nervously. "I believe they expect a proposal soon."

"Oh." You chuckle a little, almost nervous as well. "And should they?"

"My prince... my king... you know this has been the greatest year of my life. I am more than eager to share all my days with you."

"Thor... I love you too."

"Then perhaps a proposal is not far off at all." He smirks. "Now, are you certain this is all your luggage?"

"Yes. Underwhelming, I know."

"Not at all. It simply means you will have plenty of room for the gifts I will shower you with."

You giggle. And then it hits you that you are truly leaving Earth. You frown softly, looking around as nostalgia crashes over you in waves.

"What ails you, my love?"

"Just... it's suddenly very hard to leave."

Thor takes you in his arms and kisses you. "I swear that as long as the Bifrost stands, I shall take you to Midgard whenever you wish."

You kiss him back. "You're sweet. But... it's just the change. It's always a big moment. But I'm not leaving home, not really. I'm coming home. To you. To Odin and Frigga. Even to Loki."

Thor grins. "Truly, you think of my misguided brother as your family?"

You nod. "Frigga and I have been taking lessons outside his cell lately as part of his rehabilitation."

His eyes shine with something surpassing gratitude and admiration.

"My king... allow me the honor of bringing you home."

And in a flash of rainbow and lightning, he does.

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #13

synopsis: they love you but, you love their best friend.

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, sasha, connie, jean, reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin & hange

notes: i made my first ever lengthy fanfic! first 3 episodes are out so, go check it out!!

☆ eren jaeger - armin arlert

his heart is crushed to smithereens but, he’ll never ever show it because as long as your happy, that’s all he can ask for in this dreadful world plus, i’m sure armin would be happy for you so… it’s a bonus. i guess. he’ll be fine watching you two get together (no he won’t) (he’ll cry and punch a lot of things).

☆ armin arlert - mikasa ackerman

he gets it, mikasa is way better than him in several different ways but also, stronger than him. she has the resilience for what it takes to survive in this world, she’s not called a 100 man army for no reason! she can protect you and probably love you better than he could. finding out this news takes a huge toll on his self esteem to be honest 🙁.

☆ mikasa ackerman - eren jaeger

oh, TRUST ME! she’s been there and done that, she gets it, if not more than anyone. she feels very conflicted because she got over eren… developed feelings for you… now, you like eren? it genuinely just feels like someone’s playing a sick joke on her.

☆ jean kirsten - connie springer

okay this actually kind of shocked jean because he thought was IN, he was complimenting you, you seemed to be liking it and taking them well plus, you spent a lot of time together! but then, he found out from reiner that you were gossiping with the girls, giggling about connie… maybe he’s funnier? kinder to you? more… handsome?!

☆ connie springer - sasha braus

wow. he loves sasha but cmon, SHES SO STUPID😭. he starts being really mean about her, not to her face, but he’ll make a sly comment here and there in front of people. oh, she messed up on the training? god, she’s so incapable! she tripped and fell? god, she’s so unaware of her surroundings! how stupid, amirite? don’t fret, jean is always there to wack him over the head and tell him to shape up. he only does it because it genuinely really upset him. he liked you a lot.

☆ sasha braus - jean kirsten

oh! i mean i guess that makes sense, sasha is just kind of a kind of silly food lover but jean… jean is ambitious, strong and motivated. maybe that’s what you want in a partner. she definitely changes her habits just out of feeling sad, like not eating as much, being more quiet, becoming less playful etc. everyone’s super worried but she barely realises she’s doing it.

☆ reiner braun - annie leonhart

well i be damned 💀. reiner never thought he’d see the day but here we are, you like annie and he likes you. he likes annie, don’t get me wrong, and he totally sees her good traits but like… really? you have a CRUSH on annie leonhart? he’s more confused than anything. honestly he’s grateful after a while (not really) because you’re a devil (you’re not to him, you look like you’ve fallen from the heavens) and he has to kill you (he would never).

☆ bertolt hoover - reiner braun

deep sigh. deepest of sighs. QUICK EVERYONE ACT SURPRISED! bertolt has always been in reiners shadow, just because he’s more reserved doesn’t mean he’s any lesser than reiner, cmon! but, he realised that maybe you just want someone like reiner, someone’s who is extroverted and manly.

☆ annie leonhart - bertolt hoover

well then, this is quite the turn of event. annie and bertolt were so close, she can totally see why you’d like him and it’s a TOTAL weight off her shoulders. she would’ve never confessed, girls got too much going on so, thank god your eyes wandered somewhere else. but, it doesn’t make it any less harder watching you and bertolt…

☆ levi ackerman - hange zoë

yeah no, like he totally gets it 😂😂😂. you totally didn’t break his heart FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME IN THIS MANS LIFETIME. bro cannot catch a break… it’s chill though. he’s chill, your chill, everyone’s chill (i’m so upset i have to write this) although, he will act more irritated with hange, even more than usual, he’ll act like they’re a pain in the arse. but, it’s understandable hange is, after all, more fun, talkative, intelligent and an all round better person to be with.

☆ erwin smith - levi ackerman

SECOND PERSON THATS BEEN SNATCHED FROM ERWIN but, at least it’s not nile dok again. he totalllyyy gets it like, it’s the levi ackerman. the worlds strongest soldier? hello?? he may be short but he’s strong, fearless, can protect you and goodness gracious he is handsome!! it’s hard for erwin to watch however, he makes sure to bottle it all up and focus on the task at hand.

☆ hange zoë - erwin smith

erwin smith… wow. maybe hange was just too… annoying for you? that’s the only solution they can come to. you still come to visit them and ask about titans and what not, it’s so hard to hear you talk about all the time you’ve been spending with erwin when you used to spend that time with hange. they’ll divulge fully into their work and become more recluse for a while.

[wannabehockeygf]

plastic palm trees - william nylander

part of the think later fic series

"Thought that it was real, thought that it was worth it, Out the window everything was looking perfect, Caught in a dream, it's not what it seems."

*** request: "hey girl saw you wanted more maple leafs players and don’t you worry I would love some willy nylander for plastic palm trees"

summary: a whirlwind romance was only serious consideration for one of you. word count: 6.8k pairing: william nylander x fem!reader warnings: insinuation of sex (in a fade-to-black, time lapse thing), alcohol notes:

MY FIRST WILLY FIC

^ we've been getting fed such good pics of him lately

heartbreak because if i can't be happy NO ONE CAN.

i had to do hella research on the city of Toronto for this

It was one of those suffocatingly warm nights at the end of April that always managed to catch you off guard. Since moving to Tampa, you'd gotten used to the random bursts of heat and humidity, but tonight, it seemed more oppressive than usual. Maybe it was the setting—an after-party for the Toronto Maple Leafs on top of a fancy skyscraper, with a rooftop bar and pool. It was after their last regular season game against the Bolts, the one that got them to clinch the playoffs, and it was as far out of your element as you could get, especially with your best friend nowhere to be found. Typical.

Everyone here was either already wasted or riding some other high, and despite the fact that you were wearing a bikini that made you look like you fit right in with the army of models around you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn't belong. Not that anyone cared or noticed, but the nagging insecurity in your gut was loud enough to drown out the music blaring from the DJ booth.

You needed out. Immediately.

With your head down, you started pushing your way through the crowd, dodging guys in swim trunks and girls in bikinis more expensive than your rent, when suddenly it hit you—the pool deck was indeed wet. Slippery, in fact. You tried to stop yourself, but gravity had other plans. Your feet slid out from under you in slow-motion horror, and for one terrifying second, you were convinced you were about to make a grand entrance into the pool.

Except… you didn’t. Instead of a splash, you collided with something warm and solid behind you. Not too solid, though—just the perfect amount of solid that made you immediately wish you could stay there a little longer. A squeak escaped your lips, and you twisted your head around to apologize, but as if playing the role of clumsy, awkward girl to perfection, your eyes locked onto his.

Oh. Oh wow.

His eyes were beautiful—crystal blue, sharp and hypnotic. You were so caught up in them that you almost forgot how to breathe. Your jaw hung open, just a little, and his laughter was the first thing to break through the spell. God, even his laugh was attractive. Deep, yet boyish. The kind of sound that makes you feel all kinds of flustered for no good reason.

He brought his hand up to scratch at his patchy blond beard, which was—against all odds—also unfairly good-looking. And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he pulled you back onto your feet in one smooth motion, his arm still firmly around your waist. You didn’t miss how strong he was. Okay, cool, play it cool. Definitely don’t acknowledge the fact that you just fell into a guy with abs for days.

"Whoa, you alright?" he asked, voice warm and tinged with amusement. You could practically hear the smile in it, which only made your heart flip-flop even more.

You nodded quickly, trying to steady yourself. “Yeah, I’m good! I just… forgot the ground was wet.” Great. That sounded totally sane. 

“Easy to miss,” he grinned, his arm still lingering a little longer than necessary before he finally let go, stepping back just enough to give you space. “Not your fault. Happens to the best of us.”

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out more like an awkward cough. Smooth. Very smooth. “Thanks for, uh… catching me. I probably would've done a full backflip into the pool otherwise.”

He chuckled again, that sound making your stomach twist in ways you weren’t prepared for. “Glad I could help save the day.” He paused, and then as if he was actually interested in you beyond just saving you from a catastrophic splash, he asked, “I’m Will, by the way.”

Will. Of course, his name is William. Because of course, I’d fall into a guy who looks like a freaking Nordic god with a name like William. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “Nice to meet you, Will. I’m… well, I’m just trying not to die of embarrassment, so you can call me a mess.”

He laughed again, this time a little softer, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah, you’re doing fine. No more slipping, though, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” you said with a weak grin, still fighting the urge to just melt into the ground.

He took a small step closer, glancing around at the chaos of the party before turning his attention back to you. “You look like you could use a drink. Can I buy you one?”

You blinked, the words Can I buy you one? still bouncing around in your head like a ping-pong ball that refused to settle. Your heart did a quick stutter step, trying to catch up with the situation as you stared at the walking Norse god who had—somehow—deemed you worthy of his time.

A drink. He was offering you a drink. You should say something. Anything, really.

“Uh, sure,” you croaked out, before clearing your throat and attempting to sound like a fully functioning human. “I mean, yeah. That sounds great.”

His smile widened, like he found your awkwardness adorable, and you cursed internally at the fact that even his smile had to be perfect. Because, of course, it did. Of course, he had to be the kind of guy who looked like he stepped off a movie set, made you feel like a complete idiot, and was still nice enough to offer you a drink instead of just leaving you to fumble your way to the poolside bar alone.

William motioned for you to follow him, leading you through the crowd with surprising ease—probably because people just naturally got out of the way for someone who looked like that. Meanwhile, you were fighting to keep your cool, your feet somehow both heavy and light as you trailed behind, staring at his broad back and the muscles that shifted with each movement. Was it hot in here, or was that just you?

Yeah, it was definitely just you.

You arrived at the bar, and William leaned against it, catching the bartender’s attention in a way only someone with that level of effortless confidence could. “What’s your drink?” he asked, eyes locking onto yours again, and for a split second, you forgot how to form words.

“Uh…” You glanced up at the chalkboard menu, your brain desperately trying to pick something that didn’t scream I’m lost, help me. “A margarita?”

He grinned, giving a little nod like you’d passed some secret test. “Good choice. I’ll have the same,” he said to the bartender, who had the audacity to wink at Will before disappearing to make the drinks. You stood there, doing your best not to fidget, but Will’s attention was back on you, and you suddenly felt like you were under a spotlight. He leaned in slightly, the smell of expensive cologne wafting in your direction. Why does he have to smell so good?

“So,” he started, his voice smooth and casual, “what brings you to a party like this? You don’t exactly look like the type to hang around a Leafs hockey crowd.”

You nearly choked. “I—uh—I could say the same about you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Really? You don’t think I could pass for a hockey player?”

“You’re a hockey player?” you blurted out, louder than you meant to. Then you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Of course, he’s a hockey player, you idiot. He just said this was a Leafs party, and the man looked like he could bench-press you without breaking a sweat. Smooth. So smooth.

William’s grin spread wider, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Yep. William Nylander, right wing for the Toronto Maple Leafs.” He paused, leaning in a little closer as he lowered his voice. “Not gonna lie, though… I’m a bit more interested in you than hockey right now.”

Your brain short-circuited. William Nylander. Oh my god. You were talking to that William Nylander. You’d somehow managed to embarrass yourself in front of one of the most famous hockey players in the NHL. If there was a hole in the ground, you’d gladly crawl into it.

“Oh,” you said weakly. Because what else could you say?

He didn’t miss a beat. “You seem a little surprised,” he teased, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “Didn’t expect to meet a guy like me tonight, huh?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep up with the situation. “No, not exactly. I mean, I didn’t even know this was a Maple Leafs party. My friend invited me, but she’s—well, she’s disappeared.”

He chuckled, clearly amused by your rambling. “Lucky for me, then. I get you all to myself.”

The bartender handed over your drinks, and you gladly took a sip, hoping the alcohol would somehow calm your racing heart. William watched you, eyes twinkling with mischief, like he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

You could feel the warmth from the margarita sliding down your throat, but it did absolutely nothing to temper the heat already coursing through your veins. The ice-cold drink clashed with the fire igniting inside you, fueled by the fact that William freaking Nylander was standing right in front of you, smiling like he knew every secret thought you were desperately trying to keep hidden.

Oh god. He was looking at you again—those impossibly blue eyes scanning your face with a level of intensity that made your breath catch. It wasn’t fair. Not when he had that stupidly perfect jawline, the kind you only ever saw in glossy magazine spreads. Or, you know, when you accidentally fell into the arms of a guy who looked like he could bench press you for fun. The thought of it made your stomach do another one of those unwelcome flip-flops.

“So,” William began, leaning in just a little closer, his voice soft yet dripping with that effortless charm. “What else don’t I know about you, aside from the fact that you’re stunningly beautiful and apparently terrible at walking on wet surfaces?”

You blinked. Stunningly beautiful? Did he just say that? You knew it was a line. It had to be a line. But the way his voice wrapped around the words made it feel like more than that, like he actually meant it. Your brain scrambled to respond, and you barely managed to avoid a full-on choke this time. “I—uh, well, I’m usually not this clumsy, I swear.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening, that teasing sparkle still alive in his eyes. “Mm, I don’t know. You seem like you might need a little more… steadying. You know, just to be safe.” His gaze flickered to your waist, where his hand had been earlier, and you swore you could feel the phantom weight of it still lingering. “I could always lend a hand. Maybe two, if you need ‘em.”

Your laugh came out too loud—awkward, but you couldn’t help it. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” you stammered, taking another sip of your margarita like it was a lifeline. His flirtation wasn’t corny, but it was relentless in a way that left you completely unprepared. It was as though he was gently laying down brick after brick, building up the tension, each little compliment stacking on top of the last. And you? You were just trying to keep from crumbling under the weight of it all.

“You know,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, leaning into that sweet spot where a whisper might live, “you really do stand out here. I’m not just saying that.” His eyes locked onto yours again, and suddenly, the noise of the party seemed to melt into the background. “Everyone else is… well, they’re either trying too hard or not trying at all. But you…” He paused, letting his eyes roam over you in a way that felt both appreciative and entirely too intimate for the middle of a party. “You look effortlessly gorgeous. Like you’re not even trying. It’s… refreshing.”

You could feel your face heating up, and it wasn’t just from the humidity. There was no way he could really mean that, right? You felt like a fish out of water, surrounded by people who seemed to thrive in this kind of environment—women with legs for days and hair that didn’t frizz up at the slightest hint of moisture, unlike your own. But here was William, saying things that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t completely out of place.

You took another long sip of your margarita, hoping the liquid courage would do its job, but your nerves were still very much in charge. Every time you looked at him, you were acutely aware of how out of your depth you were. The man had an aura about him, an energy that came effortlessly, like he was born knowing he could make women weak at the knees with just one well-placed glance. And tonight, all that effortless energy was directed squarely at you.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” William teased, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous level again, the kind that made your toes curl. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Pretty. There it was again, another compliment dropped into conversation like it was nothing, but this one landed differently. It felt personal, like he wasn’t just throwing out lines to get a reaction. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, curious, like he genuinely wanted to know what was going on in your brain, which was a dangerous place to be right now.

You forced a laugh, trying to act like your entire body wasn’t buzzing with a mix of nerves and attraction. “Oh, you know… just wondering how I managed to fall into the arms of the one guy at this party who’s apparently allergic to shirts,” you joked, gesturing to his open button-down that was doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that his abs were, indeed, carved by the gods themselves.

He threw his head back and laughed, the sound so full and rich it almost made you forget how embarrassing your comment was. “Shirts are overrated,” he said with a playful shrug, glancing down at his chest like he was only now realizing he wasn’t wearing one. “Besides, you’re not exactly overdressed either, you know?”

Your cheeks flamed. “Touché.”

He smirked, the kind that made your heart do that stupid little flutter again. “But honestly? I’m not complaining. If I’d known falling into my arms would be part of your plan tonight, I would’ve ditched the shirt earlier.”

Okay, now you really were melting. He wasn’t just flirting; he was relentless. And worse, he knew exactly what he was doing, gauging your every reaction like he was running some kind of experiment on just how flustered he could make you. Spoiler alert: very.

You smiled, trying to play it cool, but it felt like every nerve in your body was hyperaware of how close he was standing. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his skin, the subtle scent of his cologne still teasing your senses. Focus, you reminded yourself. You didn’t want to come off as some starstruck fan who couldn’t handle a little flirting.

“Falling into your arms wasn’t exactly on my to-do list tonight,” you quipped, finally meeting his eyes again. “But, hey, accidents happen.”

William’s lips quirked into that smirk again, the one that was quickly becoming your undoing. “Some accidents aren’t so bad,” he said smoothly, his eyes flicking down for just a second before they locked back on yours, making your breath hitch.

There was something about the way he looked at you—like he was undressing you with his eyes, but not in a sleazy way. No, it was more like he was figuring you out, studying every little reaction, every shift in your body language, every flutter of your lashes. It was almost unnerving how much attention he was paying to you, like he had all the time in the world.

“Okay, now I know you’re trying to kill me,” you muttered under your breath, barely loud enough for him to hear. But of course, he did.

“What was that?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Something you wanna say to me, sweetheart?”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest at the sudden proximity, the pet name slipping out of his mouth so casually, like it was something he’d said a hundred times before. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his voice sent heat pooling in your stomach. “Just that you’re not exactly subtle, are you?”

“Why would I be?” he asked, pulling back just enough to give you that devastating smile again. “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was so goddamn confident. Not cocky, not arrogant, just… sure of himself, like he knew exactly what effect he had on you, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. And the worst part was, it was working. Every word, every glance, every laugh—he was pulling you in without even trying.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “Yeah, well… maybe I just like the view.”

His grin widened at that, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, you like the view, huh?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I meant of the party,” you corrected quickly, even though it was a blatant lie.

Willam raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Sure you did,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he leaned in just a little closer. “But I’m glad you like what you see.”

You felt the air between you shift—just a little, but enough to make your pulse race. His eyes darkened slightly, and for the first time tonight, the teasing edge in his voice softened, replaced by something more serious. More intense.

“Listen,” he said, his voice low, the flirtation still there but laced with something deeper now. “This party’s fun and all, but… I’d much rather spend the rest of the night with you. Somewhere quieter.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he’d just said. He was asking if you wanted to leave with him—if you wanted to take this to the next level.

Part of you knew you should probably play it cool, act like this wasn’t sending your mind into overdrive. But the other part of you—the part that had been riding the high of his relentless attention all night—was screaming at you to say yes.

William waited, his eyes never leaving yours, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t rushing you, but there was a heat in his gaze that made it clear he was hoping for the answer he wanted.

And honestly? So were you.

“I—uh—yeah,” you finally managed, your voice shaky but steady enough. “I’d like that.”

William’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up with that same mischievous glint as he straightened up, offering you his hand. “Then let’s get out of here.”

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the unfamiliar room. You blinked against the brightness, disoriented for a moment until you felt the weight of the arm draped across your waist. Right. William. Last night. Your mind replayed flashes of the night before—the teasing, the drinks, his relentless flirting, and then… everything else.

You shifted slightly, the cool sheets brushing against your bare skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from the man beside you. William’s breathing was slow and steady, and you could hear the faint rustle of him stirring next to you, his presence impossibly close and yet suddenly foreign in the daylight. What the hell just happened?

You glanced over at him, your heart doing that annoying flutter thing again. Even half-asleep, he looked annoyingly perfect. His blond hair was tousled from sleep, his face relaxed, and those damn long lashes—seriously, what kind of guy has lashes like that?—cast soft shadows on his cheekbones. He shifted slightly, his arm tightening around your waist for a moment before loosening, as though even in sleep he wasn’t quite ready to let you go.

It was kind of surreal, being here. In bed. With William freaking Nylander.

You closed your eyes for a second, trying to piece together your thoughts, but before you could drift too far into overthinking mode, you felt him stir next to you. His arm moved away, and the bed shifted as he sat up, the sheet slipping down to his waist. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep as you listened to him move quietly around the room. The rustle of fabric, the sound of a zipper, a soft curse under his breath as he searched for something. You could practically picture him getting ready to leave, and part of you wondered if this was the part where he would just disappear without a word.

But then you felt the bed dip again, and his hand brushed lightly against your shoulder. “Hey,” his voice was soft, huskier than it had been last night, laced with that morning grogginess that somehow made him even more attractive. “I’ve gotta head out soon. Got a flight back to Toronto in a few hours.”

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, half-dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans that somehow still managed to look designer on him. His hair was still messy, but it only added to the effortless charm he seemed to carry like it was second nature. You sat up slowly, clutching the sheet to your chest, suddenly hyperaware of your own disheveled state in comparison to him looking like he just walked off a runway.

“Oh, right,” you mumbled, your voice a little scratchy from sleep. “Back to the glamorous life of hockey stardom.”

He chuckled softly, his blue eyes catching the morning light as he glanced back at you. “Yeah, something like that.” There was a pause, a moment where neither of you seemed to know what to say next. You weren’t exactly prepared for the morning-after small talk with someone like him, and part of you wasn’t sure if he’d want to stick around for it either.

But then he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his phone and turning it over in his hand before offering it to you. “Here,” he said casually, but there was a sincerity in his voice that caught you off guard. “Put your number in.”

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “My number?”

He nodded, a small, almost boyish smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. “Yeah, unless you’d rather I just disappear into the night, never to be seen again.” His tone was teasing, but there was something genuine behind his eyes, like he was offering more than just a casual exchange of digits.

You hesitated for a second, staring at the phone in his hand. Part of you wondered if this was just something he did—collecting numbers like souvenirs from his nights out—but the way he was looking at you, waiting, made it feel different. Like he actually wanted to stay connected.

You reached for the phone, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment before you started typing in your number. “Alright,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite the nervous flutter in your chest. “But only if you promise not to spam me with shirtless selfies.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, making your stomach do another one of those stupid flips. “No promises,” he grinned, taking the phone back once you’d handed it over. He glanced at the screen, then back at you, his smile softening just a little. “But I’ll definitely text you.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you just nodded, feeling a little out of your depth again. This whole thing felt like it existed in some kind of surreal bubble—like you’d stepped out of your normal life and into some alternate universe where William Nylander was asking for your number and promising to text you like this wasn’t completely out of the ordinary.

He stood up then, pulling on his jacket and giving you one last look before heading toward the door. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You smiled, though it felt more like a question than a statement. “Yeah. See you around.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the quiet room, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air, clinging to your skin. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, staring at the door for a moment as you tried to process everything. The night, the morning, the fact that he had just given you his number.

What. Just. Happened?

You flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as a small, incredulous laugh bubbled up in your chest. This wasn’t real life. It couldn’t be. But as your phone buzzed on the nightstand, you glanced over and saw his name light up the screen.

“Talk soon :)”

Yeah. This was definitely real. And you were in so much trouble.

The days that followed that surreal morning were a blur of disbelief, excitement, and an overwhelming sense of What the hell just happened?. You spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at his name in your contacts, debating whether to text him first or wait for him to follow up on his promise. But, true to his word, he didn’t leave you in suspense for long. That very same day, your phone lit up with a simple, casual message: “So, did I pass the ‘won’t disappear’ test?”

From there, it was like a dam broke. Texts became more frequent, each conversation flowing more easily than the last. The banter came naturally, with him teasing you about your corny responses at the party, and you firing back with just enough wit to keep him on his toes. But it wasn’t just flirting anymore—it was something deeper, more meaningful. Soon, those texts evolved into long FaceTime calls that stretched late into the night, your screen lighting up with his face as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Except it wasn’t. Nothing about this was normal.

The first few calls were awkward in the way new things always are—filled with small talk about your day, what you were doing, and how many hours he’d spent training. He’d call you from all sorts of places—his car, the gym, even in between meetings with his agent—giving you glimpses into the world of a professional hockey player that still felt so far removed from your own life. Yet, the more you talked, the more he let you into those private, quieter moments. It wasn’t all glamorous; there were days he was exhausted, barely able to string sentences together, his hair mussed from pulling off his helmet, wearing nothing but his gold chain and boxers. He’d laugh at himself, apologizing for being a “boring, dense hockey guy,” but those moments, when his guard was down, were the ones that pulled you in deeper.

You found yourself opening up too. You’d show him little snippets of your life, whether it was cooking dinner in your tiny apartment or walking on your favourite beach. He seemed genuinely interested, asking questions about the things you never thought anyone would care about—your job, your friends, even your ridiculous obsession with late-night baking shows. He'd make comments like, "You bake? That’s cute. Maybe you can make me something when you're in Toronto," as if the idea of you being there wasn’t absurdly impractical.

Yet, every time he said it, that spark of curiosity flared to life. What if you did go?

There was no denying the pull. With every passing day, every call, every conversation, Toronto became more and more tempting. You could picture it so vividly—flying out, seeing him in person, experiencing this thing between you without a screen separating you. It was ridiculous, though, wasn’t it? You barely knew him. You had sex with him once. This was all supposed to be some fun, flirty thing, not a long-distance… whatever this was turning into. But when he mentioned it—“When are you coming to visit me?”—your heart would skip a beat, and the idea suddenly didn’t feel so far-fetched.

It was around the two-week mark when he FaceTimed you from his apartment. The view behind him was incredible, a sprawling cityscape with the CN Tower looming in the background. He was dressed in sweats, hair still damp from the shower, lounging on his couch like he didn’t have a care in the world. You, on the other hand, were curled up in bed, trying to keep your excitement from showing too much as he asked about your day. It was a mundane conversation, really, but there was a comfort in it, a growing familiarity that felt… nice. More than nice.

“You should be here,” William said suddenly, his eyes locking onto yours through the screen. There was a seriousness in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I keep telling you, you should come to Toronto.”

You laughed it off, like you always did, trying to mask the way your stomach flipped at the suggestion. “Yeah, because hopping on a plane to Canada is totally practical. I’ll just drop everything and come running, right?”

But William didn’t smile this time. His expression was soft, almost vulnerable. “Why not? I’m serious. You keep saying no, but you’re not really giving me a reason. I told you I’d pay.”

You blinked at the screen, momentarily thrown off by the change in his tone. He wasn’t teasing, wasn’t flirting—he was asking, really asking, and for the first time, you didn’t have a quick comeback ready. You stared at him, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

“Willy,” you started, your voice softer now, unsure of how to explain the million thoughts racing through your head. “It’s just… complicated. I have a life here, a job. And we’ve only known each other for, what, two weeks?”

“So?” His response was immediate, like he didn’t see the issue at all. “It’s not like I’m asking you to move here. Just… come for a visit. Spend a weekend. See what happens.”

Your mind spun with the possibilities. A weekend. It sounded so simple when he said it, but to you, it felt like opening Pandora’s box. What if you went, and things weren’t as easy in person like it was the first time? What if this whole thing fell apart? But another part of you, the part that had been growing more attached to him with each passing day, screamed at you to say yes. To stop overthinking and just take the leap.

“I want to,” you admitted quietly, almost afraid to say it out loud.

William’s face lit up at that, the corners of his lips tugging into that boyish grin that always made your heart skip. “Then do it. You’re way too in your head about this. Just come. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The worst that could happen? Oh, you could think of a few things. But staring at him, his expression so open and genuine, you found yourself nodding slowly, your own grin starting to form.

“Okay,” you said before you could talk yourself out of it. “I’ll come.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, both of you processing what they meant. William’s grin widened into a full-on smile, his excitement palpable through the screen. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, his voice full of certainty. “I’ll make sure of it. I’ll buy your tickets, too.”

And just like that, the decision was made. You were going to Toronto.

For the next week, your anticipation grew, along with your nerves. Every time Will mentioned it—“You’re going to love the city. I can’t wait to show you around,”—you felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. It wasn’t just the trip; it was the what ifs that came with it. What if things between you were different in person? What if this whole thing fizzled out? But the pull was too strong, the connection you’d built too real to ignore.

By the time you were at the airport, suitcase in hand, your nerves were a tangled mess. Yet, somewhere beneath the anxiety, there was a sense of thrill, a quiet voice telling you that this might just be one of those moments in life where you take a risk and it pays off. After all, how often do you get the chance to fall headfirst into something this unexpected?

The flight to Toronto felt like the longest of your life. As the plane descended, you stared out the window, watching the sprawling city beneath you slowly come into focus. The CN Tower stood tall, piercing the sky, and the shimmering waters of Lake Ontario stretched out like an endless mirror. You clutched your phone in one hand, the other drumming nervously against your knee. This was it. You were about to step into something that could either be a dream or a disaster, and the weight of that realization hadn’t fully hit until now.

When the plane touched down, you were hit with a rush of nerves. What if things were awkward in person? What if the chemistry that felt so electric over FaceTime fizzled out the second you were face-to-face? You had no idea what to expect.

But then you saw him, waiting just outside of baggage claim, and all the doubts melted away.

He stood there in a hoodie and sweats, casual yet effortlessly cool, his blond hair messy like he’d just rolled out of bed—but somehow, on him, it worked. The moment his blue eyes met yours, his face lit up in that same grin you’d seen a hundred times through a screen, and it felt like everything around you faded.

Your heart did a little flip as you approached, suitcase dragging behind you. “Hey,” you breathed, trying to sound normal, but your voice came out a little shaky.

William stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a few strides. “Hey,” he replied, his voice soft, his grin never wavering. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a hug. And just like that, everything felt right. His arms around you were warm and solid, his body familiar in a way that surprised you. He smelled like cologne and clean laundry, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it, into him, letting the reality of the moment wash over you.

“You’re actually here,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hands lingering on your arms. His eyes were bright, amused. “You weren’t just messing with me, huh?”

You laughed, feeling a little more grounded now that the ice had been broken. “What, did you think I’d back out last minute?”

“I don’t know,” he teased, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “You seem like you scare easy.”

Before you could come up with a witty response, he grabbed your suitcase and motioned toward the exit. “Come on, I’m starving. Let’s get out of here.”

The first few hours were a blur of excitement. He took you to a cozy café not far from the airport, somewhere tucked away and intimate, where you could sit by the window and watch the city move outside. Over coffee and a shared plate of pastries, the conversation flowed as easily as it had over the phone—only now, there was something more. He wasn’t just a face on a screen anymore; he was real, sitting across from you, his smile lighting up his entire face whenever you made him laugh.

And he did laugh. A lot. More than you expected. You’d forgotten how much your weird sense of humor had slipped out in those earlier texts, but now, sitting across from him, you felt freer. The walls you’d built, the ones you’d used to guard yourself from being too vulnerable too fast, were crumbling faster than you could stop them.

After coffee, he drove you around, showing you the city like it was his personal playground. You marveled at the historic brick buildings of the Distillery District, snapping photos as he teased you for acting like a tourist. You walked along the waterfront, where the breeze off the lake was cool and refreshing, and he bought you ice cream from a little stand by the pier. At the mention of grabbing lunch at St. Lawrence Market, you could only laugh—he was a whirlwind, jumping from one idea to the next, his excitement palpable.

Later that day, you met his brother, Alex, who welcomed you with a warm smile and a handshake that quickly turned into a hug. “So you’re the mystery girl,” he said, glancing between you and William with an amused grin. “He hasn’t shut up about you for weeks.”

You felt your cheeks burn, but William brushed off the comment with a smirk. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous.”

That evening, as the city lights began to twinkle against the darkening sky, William took you to a quiet rooftop bar, a stark contrast to the one you met at. The view of the Toronto skyline was breathtaking, and the mood between you shifted. You weren’t just two people exploring a city anymore—there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something you both felt but didn’t quite put into words.

You ended up at his place that night, the air thick with anticipation. His apartment was modern, sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city. But you barely noticed it. Your focus was on him, the way he looked at you, the way his hands felt on your skin, gentle yet insistent.

The nights that followed were electric, filled with quiet murmurs and heated kisses, bodies intertwined in the dark. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just the two of you, giving in to the pull that had been building since you fell into his arms. It was intense, thrilling, and everything you hadn’t realized you were waiting for.

You stayed for the full week. You explored more of the city together, visited Kensington Market, strolled through the Royal Ontario Museum, and even caught a Leafs game where he introduced you to his teammates. They were charming and funny, ribbing William for finally bringing a girl around. “This one must be special,” Mitch joked, and while you laughed it off, part of you wondered if it was true.

But as the days went on, something shifted.

You’ve been here longer than planned, each day blurring into the next in a way that feels easy, natural. But there’s something different about William tonight. He’s quieter, more distant, the usual spark missing from his eyes. You’re curled up on his couch, his arm thrown around you,  the Toronto skyline glittering through the window–-but there’s an unease hanging between you.

“I’ve been thinking,” William starts, his voice low, as if he’s trying to find the right words. He’s sitting right beside you, although he doesn’t dare meet your gaze, fingers tapping restlessly against your shoulder. “About us. About this.”

Your heart stutters. “What do you mean?”

He finally looks at you, eyes soft, but there’s an underlying tension there. “I just… I didn’t think it’d get this serious this fast. I mean, I like you. I really do. But…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect it to be this… much.”

The weight of his words sinks in slowly, a cold pit forming in your stomach. You don’t say anything at first, waiting for him to continue, to explain what exactly he’s trying to say.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I need to keep things casual. For now. It’s a lot, you being here, and I’m just… I don’t know if I can handle more with everything going on.”

There it is. The words you didn’t want to hear. The same ones you’d feared might come, lingering in the back of your mind ever since you landed in Toronto.He’s exactly like the rest of them. And believing that he was worth it?

Well, that was just gullible of you.

[twopoppies]

https://www.tumblr.com/twopoppies/762188095662735360/wow-looks-like-irving-just-made-himself-a-boat

i don’t understand any of this stuff, but i thought harry was the owner of his music? with erskine and all that. is it the distribution rights that were sold? sorry, i’m dumb when it comes to this

These questions are in reference to this anon I got last night:

As far as I understand (and please someone correct me if I’m wrong or left something out), GMR is a Performance Rights Organization (PRO) like ASCAP, SEASAC, or BMI.

What is a PRO?

The way people and businesses play, purchase, listen to, and consume music has changed drastically in recent times. Revenues related to purchases of physical media and downloads are fading. Now, the attention is turning more than ever towards other sources of royalty revenues, such as performance rights. PROs play a major role collecting these rights and they monitor the compliance of businesses playing music in public.

PROs are in charge of administering the rights of songwriters and publishers. These duties include the collection and distribution of royalties on their behalf. It would be practically impossible for these creators to pick up their royalties one by one. There are too many instances, from digital platforms to physical venues, in which where their rights are being used. This network of agencies work to make sure that people pay all the royalties. In order to do this, they have close contact with different music platforms and checking physical locations, to collect and distribute them on the creators behalf.

x

From what I understand, Azoff’s stated intention in forming this group was to make sure artists were paid their fare share of royalties, given that the rules hadn’t been updated to take into account the current ways people consume music.

From GMR’s website:

x

Basically, any business that uses music (or portions of music) in a public way must pay to license that music from GMR (or any of the other three PROs).

Who needs to buy a license?

So, if you have a restaurant that plays music in the background, if you use music when people are out on hold when they call your business, if you have a store that plays music while people shop… you have to have a license so that the artists/songwriters are paid each time their work is used.

More details here x

Are there any exceptions? Yes.

The only exception is for broadcast radio and tv in businesses under 2000 square feet (3750 square feet for restaurants). Note: this rule applies only to “over-the-air” broadcasts, not internet streams or any other source of music. You’ll also be playing any DJ banter, unfiltered lyrics, and commercials for your competitors. Plus, there may be additional fees based on your type of establishment. For example, if you own a restaurant or bar that features live music, if there is a fee for entering your establishment, or if there is a physical activity coordinated with the music (such as public skating or dancing).

x

What is UMPG?

UMPG is an enormous music publishing company that offers a variety of different services. These range from administration services to creative services and much more.

They offer their services to companies including Universal Pictures, Warner Bros. Pictures, Lionsgate, MGM, Paramount, Disney Europe (and other territories), Viacom, Amazon, HBO, DreamWorks, DreamWorks Animation, Legendary Pictures, Mar Vista Entertainment, NBC and Sesame Workshop, among many others.

Universal Music Publishing Group’s Film & TV Department creates opportunities for and licenses their catalog of songs to film, television, advertising, computer games, and stage production. This is often referred to as ‘synchronization’.

x

UMPG focuses on traditional music publishing, licensing songs for use in film, TV, commercials, and more, and handling royalties for its songwriters. GMR focuses on managing public performance rights for a select group of high-profile artists. It offers more personalized and tailored services but is invitation-only, making it more selective and exclusive than UMPG.

Harry seems to have his music listed with both companies, as they handle different aspects of royalties.

TL;DR As far as I can tell (and I'm far from an expert), this all boils down to:

Erskine Records is primarily concerned with the release and distribution of Harry's music, partnering with Sony for wider reach. This covers the production, distribution, and promotion aspects of his music.

UMPG (Universal Music Publishing Group) manages his publishing rights. They handle songwriting royalties, licensing his music for use in films, TV, commercials, and other media, and collecting royalties when his songs are performed, played on the radio, or streamed online​.

GMR (Global Music Rights) deals with performance rights. They ensure that when Styles' music is publicly performed (e.g., at concerts, in public spaces, etc., as explained above), the proper royalties are collected and distributed to him​.

Additionally, we don't know how much of the GMR catalog has been sold. Nor do we know what the private equity firm plans to do with what it's bought. From the bit of research I've done, it seems that there is a move toward selling catalogs to private equity firms. For those firms, owning these rights is about more than passive income—it's about actively enhancing the value of the music through aggressive licensing, smarter technology, and even repackaging or reselling portions of the catalog for a higher return​.

More info on that here and here

That's the best I can offer for now.

[this-is-krikkit]

And now… for your second partner! I give you the angel who graced this earth to eat curry and save orphans - Odasaku:

Like you, he’s a writer. Empathetic and a deep thinker, I’m sure the pair of you will inspire each other to dream up impressive ideas.

I can see you both relaxing in a bar and talking long into the night. Oda’s a great listener so, no matter the topic, he’ll get involved and offer his own unique insights. Even as a writing buddies/platonic ship, I can see you both setting sail smoothly 🛳️

(pls pretend i never got him as a character quizz result just like i'm doing rn otherwise this will sound super weird/narcissistic!!)

oh Terra babe i am sooooo fucking that dude, it ain't going to be platonic if i have a say in it 👀😂

obviously i am not letting him go and die for some stupid ability-related dumbass reason??? nope, none of that bullshit you self sacrificing himbo, get in the fucking car we're kidnapping adopting teen soukoku on the way and getting all of yall out of the fucking port mafia ✨💘

i totally agree that we'd have the best time drinking thinking up ideas and drinking writing together, incidentally i feel like he would be the best medicine for whenever i'd feel like strangling one of our sons (i'll let you guess which one) thanks to his blessed infinite patience with that boy. oda would be the best person to coparent with 👨‍🧑‍👦‍👦 (i made our lil family in emojis look how happy we are!!! 🥹)

ship me with a fictional character (or several!)

[rapha-reads]

To those of you wondering (aka no one), I finished both The Vampire Armand and Merrick and I have a lot of thoughts and feels. I'm skipping Blood and Gold for now to go directly to Blackwood Farm (I'll read B&G later), but first I'm going to read something else, just to take a break.

TVA thoughts: man, Armand is messed up. And extremely compelling. But so messed up. As always, the theme of faith crisis, which seriously reaches new heights with these bitchy vampires, is not something I can fully immerse myself in, but it was fascinating to see his numerous metamorphosis. I liked how he bridges Western and Eastern Christianisme, especially through art. Now I'm thinking that if Rolin Jones makes him originally Muslim in the show, that could expand even more the conversation on how faith, and especially Abrahamic faith, has been in conversation for thousands of years and could be such a rich, diverse and spiritual, intellectual and artistic theme. I can already imagine some fascinating discussions comparing (not in a superior way but in a complementary way) coming from Muslim faith to Roman Catholic faith, the way book!Armand talks about the richness of his life in Kiev Rus despite the poverty and ascetism, and the richness of his life in Venecia despite the luxury and abundance.

As for Benamin and Sybille... I don't have much thoughts about them. Sybille is one of those female characters AR seemingly favors, not so much human as a nymph or a dryad, "perfectly splendid". And Benji is a caricature of an Arab child. Nuance? 401 not found.

Merrick thoughts: David for the love if everything, shut. The. Fuck. Up. Holy moly. I like David, I do, but damn the entire recollection of his history with Merrick was looooooong. I'm here to see Louis haunted by Claudia and haunting Lestat's coma, not how hard you're pining for the kid you practically raised! Also. ALSO. You're just going to leave that whole thing with the Olmec or possibly another more ancient Mesoamerican civilisation without ever giving us more? That was the most interesting part of it all! The vodoo history, the connection between Louisiana and Caribbean vodoo and old Native South-American religions! More about this, less about Merrick's perfect breasts, I am begging you. (It is at this point that the reader of this post realises OP is 100% definitely ace and more interested in books and witchcraft than breasts and whether a 70yo man can still get it up - also, hey, Anne Rice's vampires are practically asexual and their lust and pleasure is mostly derivated from blood, with some notable exceptions like Armand and Marius, and a love relationship between two vampires is then based on romantic love and blood sharing, so can I hear a hell yeah for some ace representation or are we still conflating eroticism with sex)

Another thing I kept thinking about throughout the book is how Louis is perceived by his fellow vampires. Since basically the second book, since we've lost his own POV, everybody who's ever said anything about him (so Lestat, Armand and David) have insisted on two points: how very weak and meek Louis is, and also how irresistible, beautiful and charming. Granted, I've known Louis first through his portrayal on the show (hi Jacob you're so fiiiiiiine), and then through his own narration in the first book, but I've never had the impression that he was weak. Beautiful and seductive, yes. Weak? I see a human man going through tragedies and still enduring, going through vampiric transformation and then suffering for decades the loss of his humanity, struggling with reconciliating both sides of himself, but mostly I see a vampire who rebuilt himself after losing everything without sacrificing his sense of self. I see Louis as very strong actually (up to the point where resilience breaks, because resilience cannot be sustained on a long term, but that's another debate). He knows who he is, and don't you know how hard that is? He doesn't cling to faith or pride. He knows he's doomed, he knows he's monstrous, he knows there's nothing he can do to change that, and instead of railing against his fate, he goes on about his undead life. He gets his books and he reads them, he surrounds himself with literature and what little comforts he thinks in his shattered self-esteem he deserves (his ragged sweaters and soft trousers); let's not lie to ourselves tho, Louis doesn't like himself, or more exactly he doesn't care about his corporeal body - what matters to him is his mind, and once again, this author is extremely ace and also very aro and very nonbinary, so Louis to me is very much ace and agender coded, though really not aro, because his love for Lestat (and sometimes his fondness, shall we say, for Armand) is the only thing that can rouse him up from his literary slumber.

...

Oh, man, I have a lot to say about Louis, for how little he appears in the books so far. Still have BF, BC and the PL trilogy to devour. So I guess you can say, for as much as Lestat is occupying my entire brain, very much like him, my favorite is Louis? Yeah, that tracks. Melancholy, quiet, dark-haired green-eyed monster with more humanity than humans, preferring his solitude and the company of books to anyone else, hopelessly and helplessly devoted to one person, expert in brooding and grieving, literature specialist, not very attached to his physical self. Yeah. I'm not surprised.

[breezy-cheezy]

You are deep in the paint about One Piece and me and my datemate watched OPLA recently so I will tell you this thing I said while we were talking about Shanks.

He said something to the effect of Shanks is CRAZY STRONG, perhaps one of the strongest, and has some special ability that allows him to tell anyone weaker than him to GTFO, so it's a fucking mystery why he lost his arm when by all rights he never needed to lose the arm. He's still the strongest without it, but why'd he lose it in the first place if he didn't have to???

So I replied, after like a minute of thought, "Because he might not need the arm, but Luffy needed him to lose his arm". Luffy needed the lesson he was going to learn for Shanks giving up that piece of himself to save Luffy's life. He needed to see the stakes and be given that lesson of actions, consequences, collateral damage, giving pieces of yourself for the sake of your crew/family/nakama.

Furthermore, with Sanji and Luffy being connected through "my mentor/surrogate father literally gave up a piece of himself to save my life", stands to logic that Sanji also needed that lesson in the narrative sense. These older guard pirates passed along something vital, giving up something that they don't need to live fulfilling lives but would be seen as incredibly important, to teach the next generation something and give them tools with which to do better.

I don't go here (I don't have the spoons for the entirety of One Piece tbh), but I liked the conclusion I came up with and wanted to share it in the hopes that you might like it too. I don't think I'm breaking any new ground here tbh but as an outsider, it was neat to think about.

I SURE AM, BUDDY X'''D Thanks for popping in! 👀 I got thoughts (and manga screencaps since you won't read it anyway, FREE REIN:

Hm. I mean point taken, but I mean...even the strongest people aren't infallible? Even IF Shanks has Conquerer's Haki (the power in question) which is something very special someone has to be born with and trained to use to its fullest, that doesn't mean it'll fix everything. Also like. He's also been shown to kinda....lose control of it when nervous or on edge.

Like my dude did not have to do this. He mentions later he doesn't like being on different territory or something LOL (he's visiting a different powerful pirate leader here).

Anyway to rescue Luffy at that time, he had to act FAST and was probably SCARED FOR HIM so like. Maybe didn't have the time to make the Haki register? It came down to losing Luffy or bodily thrusting his own arm forward to block the bite from the sea king....and well. Shanks has 2 arms. Only one Luffy. The choice was easy. Even upon losing the arm he didn;t seem upset by it really.

For the sake of the new era he says....the face of it being Luffy himself. And yea the wording really is "I gave it up" and him clearly having no regrets.

STILL I think you do have a point, this was VERY important for Luffy to learn. This same kid stabbed his own face to prove he was "manly enough" to be a pirate (so Shanks wouldn't leave without him....like his brother Ace....like his brother Sabo, to an extent, through "death" in his case) so the realization that being a pirate....would not be easy. There would be sacrifice. There would be pain. But also in a way, it was Shanks showing how important Luffy was to him. This, and passing down that straw hat much to big for Luffy....yeah.

It's clear then he's not ready. Not yet. It's with these parting gifts that Luffy is finally able to let Shanks go, and improve himself so he's strong enough to protect others, so they don;t have to do for him what Shanks did. Luffy learned to live, and while Shanks's sacrifice was devastating to Luffy, he took it to heart to keep going and grow stronger. And yea, that Nakama is just that important, more than limbs. More than life.

NOW SANJI ON THE OTHER HAND....similar but different. Luffy and Sanji were very lonely kids, but for different reasons. Luffy was clingy to anyone who showed him anything close to kindness, while Sanji....puffed up like a scared cat. Without going deep into details, he's from an extremely abusive family that beat into him he's not worth anything because he's weak. Especially from his father. So when Zeff gives him all the food, and sacrifices his own leg....well...

"Why did you do that for me?! I never gave you a reason to be kind to me!!!" And Zeff responds with their shared dreams of the All Blue...but I also feel like it's just. Sanji is a kid. He's just a kid. Again a face of the new generation to come. Zeff had his chance to search for the All Blue and be a pirate, but Sanji's life is just beginning. I'm sure that fueled his decision too.

But unlike Luffy, this just made Sanji cling harder. In a way he gave up his dream to support Zeff, out of guilt, out of a sense of duty and kindness he'd....not really experienced and didn't know what to do with. And Zeff probably allowed it for awhile, because goodness Sanji is just a kid, and he needed someone to help him grow and learn.

But it took Luffy to come along, bringing "I will live for you" to challenge Sanji's "I will die for you" conclusion.

Which uh. Didn't really fix Sanji's self sacrificial nature, but it HELPED, lmao. Eventually he was able to let go of suppori=ting the Baratie to finally chase his dream...as long as he doesn't die for a crewmate in the process hsdhfhdsk

So YEA IDK how much their mentors/father figures knew/thought about their sacrifices, but there sure were willing choices to give up their limbs for the upcoming generation/era, no matter what. I loved Zeff emphasizing that to Garp in OPLA, I think that's extremely important and a huge theme to One Piece in general. Cycles, power, and how many conflicts rise from powerful forces refusing to let go of their power, thus suffocating the new generations (the World Government smacking down so hard on the age of pirates).

Shanks and Zeff gave their support and protection to ensure these kids could live their fullest lives, and I think that's beautiful!

[earl-grey-crow]

I feel like alice might've wanted to kick the pond in the shins but how do you kick an eldritch pond in the shins

[martyrbat]

so many of you talk about the cruel adults in your childhood that negatively effected you and caused lifelong insecurity yet you're still perfectly fine with being that mean stranger to any kid that has the misfortune of existing around you and thats just really gross !!!

[locustime]

Spider-people from ATSV as spiders! (Yes, I know Lyla isn’t technically a spider person, and vinegaroons aren’t spiders but you know what I mean!)

what if… instead of spider man… it was spider.

design notes and species info under the cut!

For all of the spiders, I tried to stick vaguely with the IRL colouration (albeit with more fitting patterns). Most colours are colour picked from spider photos. Miles and Miguel have human patterns instead of their spider ones, cute touch I reused from my spidersona

Miles - giant vinegaroon. This is an arachnid BUT not a spider, which I thought matched his whole “not feeling like a real spider person” arc well. I chose this species specifically because it would be a perfect fit for the prowler (spikes, scary look), so fits prowler!miles and the theory miles was going to be the prowler in his universe

Gwen - white porch spider. I really struggled picking her species lol. I knew I wanted something sleek with long legs, but specifics I didn’t really know. I ended up choosing this species because the pale colouration worked nice for Gwen’s colourscheme

Lyla - house jumping spider. I knew as soon as I got the idea I HAD to draw Lyla as a jumping spider, it fits her so well! This one I was more relax with the colours and design as she’s a hologram, I gave her an outline and lighter lineart colours to show this

Miguel - Sydney funnel web spider. Chosen because it’s the most venomous (to humans) spider in the world (and his whole thing is biting) and also because they are just so intimidating and epic. Tbh I don’t think I even did the species justice, I recommend looking them up

[brainrotdotorg]

i finally got a money order for my new passport, scheduled my appointment for tomorrow, got my auto insurance printed, and set out vinegar and dish soap gnat traps to finally kill those thangs. literally so adultcore of me. everyone clap

[branmuffins22]

Anyone who uses ao3 know how one would go about tagging a longform fic with a relationship which isn't the endgame by any means but that still briefly happens? Like, especially if the ship is called out as bad in your story, and especially especially if characters in the relationship get into other, better relationships afterwards.

[bearsace]

not the way motonari route has me by the THROAT rn... and i thought ieyasu was the one who bias-wrecked me for my ikesen replay...

[aggravates]

ironically enough hogwarts legacy is the first game i’ve ever played that 1. had a trans character and 2. explicitly mentioned they were trans (which the character tells you herself)

[nexus-nebulae]

Ive gotten so used to not being able to play most games bc of my hands and reaction time n stuff so ive basically gotten used to hitting a ceiling in a game where i can't play normally anymore and need to use assists/cheats so every time i find a game that i Don't need to do that for whenever it ends im just like wait huh thats it???

[youremyonlyhope]

Officially crying over sad Disney songs yay.