#its angsty buddie hours

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

most nights kinda suck. but sometimes youre relaxing in a nice motel and one of the tv channels is playing 9-1-1 episodes <3 and everything feels like it'll be okay for a few hours <3

[steeb-stn]

Tbh i would love to see omega go through tEenAGe hORMonEs

just. Getting a little bit of an attitude. Chafing at hunter‘s usual protective thing bc im not a kid anymore hunter!! we ‘re on pabu for crying out loud!!! Getting really upset about something and crying and yelling about it and then an hour later shes like, im fine its whatever. I dont wanna talk about it anymore. Slamming her bedroom door. Listening to loud angsty music on blast

hunter is just like. Perplexed bc what happened to his sweet little girl??? And wrecker is like what happened to his best buddy???

Meanwhile crosshair is LIVING listening to omega complain about everything complain about HUNTER hes on cloud nine. Shares his emo music playlists with her

[arlowthenacho]

that funny feeling

(carmen berzatto x reader)

summary: you thought carmen berzatto was just a hookup. a fuck-buddy. key word, you thought.

warnings: cursing, allusions to sex but not really? its only mentioned a couple times. no smut, intended lowercase, if theres anything i missed plz let me know !!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: arlow thought about carmen spoon feeding them and made it angsty lol. this is rlly short but fret not !! i think this is gonna be a 2 parter, possibly 3 parter? idk, but i think its gonna be a series lol. anyway, enjoy my lovelies !! 🫶🤍

it started as a one time thing. a one-night-stand. a meaningless hookup. something that would and could only happen once.

until it happened again. and again, and again.

because carmen berzatto was a drug, and you were addicted to him. you craved him like lungs crave oxygen, but you weren’t sure that the feeling was reciprocated.

because if carmen berzatto was a book, he’d be written in code. scrawled in a language you didn’t understand, in writing to confusing to decipher. because carmen berzatto was nothing if not confusing.

a sudden vibration on your nightstand pulls you from your thoughts as you swipe open the screen. a text from carmen. shit.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

you up?

fuck. shit, shit, shit.

you quickly sit up and type back a response.

yeah.

you hold down the backspace button. too simple.

i wasn’t until you woke me up

pop. too accusatory.

i am now. whats up?

good enough.

you click send and set your phone back down on your bed, waiting for a response.

bzz.

the reply was almost instant. maybe that scared you a little bit.

your finger hovers over the screen, debating whether to open the text now, or just forget about it until the morning.

the former won.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

can you come over?

oh. oh.

you don’t know why you expected anything different. it’s not like you were dating him. even though you wish you were. in his eyes, you were just a casual hookup who he occasionally called for something not relating to sex.

you heave a sigh and shift your eyes back over to the phone in your hands.

yeah, ok.

sent.

you don’t really care if it sounds passive aggressive, or angry, or disappointed or whatever else it could sound like to him. to be quite honest, you just want to get this over with.

you quickly change out of your pajamas into something more presentable. a white sweater, blue jeans, throw in some lacy undergarments and you’re heading out the door and into your car.

you turn on the ignition and start the short drive to carmy’s apartment. you have his address memorized, (which you will deny is creepy until your dying day) so you don’t need to use a gps.

you turn on some music and try to distract your racing thoughts. its not like this is the first time you’re meeting him. no, far from it. but you don’t think your brain has processed that yet, because your heart is pounding and fluttering like a bird caged within your chest.

you finally make it to his apartment after what feels like an hour, and you’re standing—quite awkwardly—at carmen’s door, your fist hovering over the wood hesitantly.

after a full minute of standing at the door with your arm raised, you decide to bite the bullet and knock on the damn door.

so you do.

and he answers instantly. like a fucking gentleman.

his hair is tousled, and he runs a hand through it nervously. his eyes somehow look even more blue in the shitty light the hallway of his building provides, and it’s driving you crazy.

he is gorgeous. he is perfect. he’s all the synonyms for beautiful you can cram into one human being.

“hi,”

carmen’s voice is deep and gravelly, still thick with sleep even though he’s probably been awake for some time now.

“hey,”

a beat passes.

“can i-?”

he jolts up from the doorway he was leaning on.

“oh, yeah. shit—yeah, come in. sorry.”

an apron is tied around his waist, a gray sweater fitting loosely around his frame. it makes his eyes appear bright, like gleaming pools of sapphire that you want to spend every pretty penny on.

nonetheless, you smile politely and step into his apartment.

no matter how many times you’ve been here, the first thing you notice is always his bookshelves. more so, the books. cookbooks, magazines, culinary textbooks and newspaper articles litter his floor and decorate his walls.

the second thing you always notice is his ever-growing collection of denim. jeans and jackets make up most of his wardrobe, and are crammed into whatever space he could find.

after looking around his small apartment, a smell hits your nose.

its…pasta?

no, that can’t be it. you were just here to fuck, right? the food was probably for someone else. for work, or somebody he wanted a real relationship with. not you.

the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you sigh, disappointment crashing into your heart like waves against rocks for the second time tonight.

despite that, you’re the first to break the silence.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you cringe at the tone of your voice. it sounded exactly how you felt. disappointed, hurt, maybe a little bitter.

“what? sorry, couldn’t hear you.” carmen leans down to you to hear better, his breath a faint whisper against your skin. your breath hitches.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you repeat, a tad louder than before.

“oh. no, no, no. no, that not—that isn’t—” carmen seems to be at a loss for words, and he feels like a total dick.

“we aren’t?” you’re confused, but hide it well. you raise a brow pointedly. “then why’d you ask me to come over?” for the first time in a couple of minutes, you notice where you followed him.

“i—just,” he searches around for something.

a spoon, full of some kind of red sauce. he cups his hand under the utensil to catch anything that drips, and urges you to come closer.

you’re in his kitchen. his safe space. his fucking sacred space.

and suddenly a wave of confusion and frustration and hope is erupting within you. so many emotions and so much fucking hope. hope that this could be something more. hope that maybe you were wrong. silly, foolish, childish hope that enthralls you completely in its deceitfully warm embrace.

he’s still holding the spoon to your mouth when he speaks.

“can you try it? it’s something for the bear. for the new menu. wanted your opinion on it.” he looks nervous, like he wasn’t the one who invited you over. like he isn’t currently the one lighting your cheeks ablaze and causing your to heart implode under the sheer force of your adoration for him.

“oh, um, yeah. of course.”

he smiles. a close-lipped thing that makes you want to kiss it off of him.

you move to take the spoon from him, but he gently shoves your arm down against your side, says “open up,” and puts the spoon in your mouth.

the food is great. more than great. but you’d be lying if you said you were paying attention to that.

because carmen fucking berzatto just spoon fed you. like a couple.

and now the domesticity is crushing you, mind, body and soul.

because you’re in love with carmen berzatto.

and by some miracle, he might be in love with you too.

[flemingsfreckles]

Pretend We’re Good

Niamh Charles x Reader

Synopsis: based off this request!

Warnings: toxic behavior from both Niamh and Reader, suggestive at the end, fighting, angsty

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written for someone other than Jessie, but I follow Niamh as a player so idk thought I’d give it a go.

Also shout out to whoever this anon was, this song is a banger and has found its way onto my driving to work playlist which I am extremely picky about, so thanks for the indirect song suggestion! 🫶

Seeing the match announcement was one thing, actually showing up and playing it was another.

Playing England was good preparation for the Olympics, they were a quality team, you knew that, but that meant you’d have to see Niamh. That meant you’d have to mark Niamh on the pitch. It meant you’d have to give her a silly handshake before the game and wish her good luck.

You and Niamh had a complicated history. You played at Liverpool together for a season before she left for Chelsea. You had always had a flirty friendship as teenagers but it never amounted to anything.

Then when she left for Chelsea, it broke your heart. Which made you realize how strong your feelings were for the girl, bawling when she said goodbye and then again at home in bed. For hours at a time you would remain motionless on your mattress, wishing she’d come back. You had been a mess for a couple weeks not knowing how to handle losing your best friend and the girl you had seemingly fallen in love with. The two of you kept in touch but it wasn’t comparable to seeing her everyday, to being her travel roommate, to being her bus buddy.

Then you got a call a season later. A call offering you a spot at Chelsea, you barely thought about it, the club's reputation, plus being back with Niamh, you easily said yes, signing your name on the line to become a blue.

Niamh was your first call, she was ecstatic about you joining the club. It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your friendship and with the friendship came the oblivious flirting.

“You two are insufferable. Will you just admit you want to makeout.” Erin had teased the two of you. Her teasing, while not appreciating in the moment, had forced you and Niamh to actually sit down and talk about your feelings. You both admitted to wanting more than just a friendship and you went on your first official date after.

The next two years with Niamh were pure bliss. You played well together, you’d spend your holidays together, you met her family and she met yours.

Everything was good, until you became unhappy at Chelsea. You were progressively losing playing time to new signings, only seeing the pitch as a sub, it was impacting you heavily mentally and hurting your playing time internationally as well.

So when you got the offer to move to the NWSL, you took it. You took it and you didn’t tell Niamh until the day you confirmed the transfer.

You had broken the news at dinner in your apartment and an argument had quickly unfollowed.

“I can’t believe you’d just leave like that!” Niamh stood from the table grabbing her plate, not offering to clear yours like she typically would.

“I’m not happy here Niamh!” Niamh would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t know you were unhappy. She’d heard you rant and complain about your playing time, your struggles in training, and she had been supportive thought it all. She just never imagined you’d go as far as to leave her, to leave her and leave the country, the continent behind.

“What? I don’t make you happy?” She screamed across the room at you.

“You do! You’re the best thing I have here!” It was all you could yell back.

The defender grew quiet, looking at you with hurt eyes. “But I’m not enough, am I?” She asked quietly.

“Niamh.” You wanted to scream at her that this had nothing to do with her, she was the only reason you had stayed at this team so long. You had been given other offers but you thought maybe, somehow you’d end up with more playing time again and you’d go back to being happy where you were but that day never came.

“No, you should go, enjoy New York. Go where someone or something is enough for you.” She slammed the door behind her leaving you alone in your apartment.

The next day, your final day at Chelsea, you showed up, puffy eyed from crying instead of sleeping all night. It was quickly picked up on by the other girls, especially when Niamh didn’t come in with you, and she didn’t show up to training.

You gathered everyone in the conference room before film review. You stood up, explaining that while you loved the friendships and connections you’ve made here, to better yourself as a player it was time to move on. As you spoke you noticed Niamh slip in through the door, she looked just as rough if not worse than you did. Red cheeks, bloodshot eyes, her hair was a mess, she wasn’t dressed for training. You finished your speech before quickly saying goodbye to everyone all the girls lining up to hug you and wish you well, all the girls except Niamh who remained seated in the back of the room.

You left the facility shortly after, taking all your belongings with you before hurrying home. You were set to leave early the next morning, your belongings to be packed up by hired movers, anything you shared to be left with Niamh. You packed up just the essentials, enough to get you through the first week of your move before you could get settled.

You sent Niamh a text, asking if she wanted to come over for a bit, thinking you could talk it out, but you got no response. The next morning you hopped on a plane, having no idea if you were even still in a relationship with the girl.

It took a few weeks until you heard from her. A drunken phone call after they had won the league. A phone call that part of you wishes never came. You could tell from her first words that she must’ve been hammered, standing outside a loud nightclub or bar. Her voice brought back all of the feelings you had managed to push down for the past few weeks. Her proclamation of love over the phone, begging and pleading with you to forgive her for her stupid behavior. She begged to have you back in her bed, saying she missed the intimacy with you, the connection. She begged for a chance at long distance, to still be the one you wanted.

You never called her back. You weren’t even sure if she remembered calling.

And now here you were, standing less than an arms length away from her as you both stood waiting to enter the pitch. When you had stopped next to her, she had looked at you, when you made eye contact she gave you a small “hello” with a look of guilt across her face.

The game was easier, it was easy to forget she was there. She just looked like any other England player. You were able to push her from your mind, putting you more at ease than you had expected to be being this close to the woman after all that had happened.

It was after the game where you found yourself in uncomfortable waters with her. You had shaken her hand last, avoiding all eye contact. When Niamh tried to speak to you, you quickly dropped her hand and then made a b-line for the locker room.

“Please wait.” Her voice pleading with you as you heard her follow you down the tunnel.

“Niamh, no.” You don’t even turn back to look at her. You couldn’t, if you looked at her your body might convince you to hear her out.

“I don’t need you back, I just want closure, you deserve closure, I didn’t give you that.”

“Do you want closure or do you just want to feel less guilty for what you did to me?” You spit back at her, turning around you watch as her already guilty looking face twists into one of anger.

“You left the country with one days notice! Don’t blame this all on me!” She shouts back at you.

You sigh, you couldn’t believe this was happening. You and Niamh, standing less than three feet from each other, face to face for the first time since she left your apartment. You couldn’t determine your feeling, half of you wanted to grab her, kiss her hard and make up for all the time you two had missed out on. The other half of you was ready to shove her out of the way, leave here and hope you’d never have to play the Lionesses again. “And you walked out! You didn’t even try Niamh!”

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know where to start! It was such late notice. I didn’t know what to do, I loved you, I still love you.” She’s making eye contact so intense you can’t look away. This is exactly what you feared. Unable to hold back from the girl you start rambling.

“I still love you too Niamh, you think I don’t? You’re the only reason I stayed Niamh, because I loved you so fucking much, I couldn’t leave you, until playing for Chelsea became so unbearable, I had to leave to save myself, I was ready to quit.” You feel the tears on your face, suddenly very aware that you were crying.

You had only expressed how miserable you were to Niamh on the day you told her your contract was signed. She didn’t know you were on the verge of quitting, giving up on your love for the game.

You notice some of your teammates starting to filter into the tunnel. You and Niamh both stop talking as they pass by. Catarina slows down as she walks by, you try and duck your face to hide the tears. She looks between you and Niamh, giving you both a sympathetic smile before she moves on.

“Quit?” Niamh's face matches the look of your empathetic teammates in the tunnel.

You nod, avoiding making eye contact with Niamh, not wanting her to see right through you. She could always read you, she knew, you expressed your emotions too well through your eyes.

“I didn’t know it was that bad. Why didn’t you tell me?” Niamh grabs your hand, you start to pull it away but the feeling of her hand in yours again makes your stomach flutter so you leave it. “I don’t know what I can do. But,” you feel her squeeze your hand. “I want you back, or I want you again, I’m not sure I lost you, ever I don’t know what we were doing for those few months. Please?”

“We weren’t together during those months.” Sure you never confirmed a break up but you had decided not hearing from her meant you were no longer a couple. But you also hadn’t started seeing other people, the feelings of Niamh still too fresh.

“No, I know, it’s just we never broke up.”

“Niamh, I don’t know.”

“Please don’t make me beg. Even if it’s just a night? Just dinner or drinks, I’ll pay, or we can go to my place and I’ll let you yell at me, or tell me everything I did wrong, or we can just sit, whatever, just one night, me and you can we pretend we’re good? Pretend we’re something again? Go back to how it was?”

“Niamh.” You breathed out. You knew you shouldn’t. You knew both of your behaviors were toxic, you leaving with little notice and her storming out and drunkenly calling you begging for you back. You two shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. You loved her still.

You wanted to have a night with her, a date, an afternoon, something! In reality you wanted her for the rest of your life. You missed her hugs, you missed the way she kissed you, you missed the way you’d sing in the car together despite both having less than excellent voices. You missed falling asleep next to her. You missed her body on yours. You missed getting up early to make her coffee or tea and bringing it to her in bed, the way she’d sit up to sip it with crazy bed head. You missed everything about her.

You missed her and this was your chance to have her again. Even if it was just to pretend, for a night.

Niamh must’ve been able to tell you were pondering. She didn’t plea with you anymore, she didn’t beg again. She just waited patiently, studying your face, the face she’s been longing for.

“Okay. One night, like we used to be.” You finally give in.

“Really?” Niamh’s face lights up at your answer. A smile across her lips. “Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel? Can we have dinner? Or just drinks? Or I don’t know.”

“That sounds good.” Drinks and dinner would be harmless, a good way for the two of you to talk, in public, keep it civil.

When Niamh picked you up she was dressed up. You thankfully had dressed up as well. Subconsciously when you packed, you threw in a nice matching lace set, which you had put on underneath a simple shirt and nice pants. She had gotten out of the car to open the passenger side door, something she did when you were together.

“Thank you. Thank you for agreeing to this.” She said one back in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah.” You clasped your hands in your lap, when you were together you’d have your hand on her thigh or her hand in yours, today you kept them to yourself.

“I was thinking dinner?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I haven't eaten yet.”

Niamh nods before starting to drive to dinner. She pulls into an Italian restaurant, one the two of you had frequented while together.

When you sat down Niamh ordered a glass of wine, before looking at you. “Would you like one?”

“Yeah that'd be great.” you order the same wine as Niamh. When the glasses come Niamh holds hers up, tapping it to yours before you both take a sip and fall into silence.

You break the silence first.

You apologize for leaving on such short notice. You apologize for not telling her that you were considering leaving. You apologize for not expressing how you were feeling, truly upset at Chelsea. You apologize for never calling her, for never reaching out. You apologize for everything.

Niamh just sits, listening to you, really listening. She doesn’t interrupt, she just sits, making eye contact when you look at her. You find yourself looking away most of the time, feeling embarrassed as you list all the poor behavior, all the places you went wrong.

When you’re done, you sit back looking across the table at Niamh. Thankfully your food had arrived just as you finished apologizing and you were able to occupy the silence by eating. As you start to eat, Niamh begins to speak. She hasn’t started to eat and she’s hardly looked at the pasta in front of her.

“Niamh.” You interrupt, it was rude but you wanted to ensure she knew she could eat. “Please eat, we can talk after, don’t let it get cold.”

She nods, picking up her fork and swirling it into her meal. You eat for the most part in silence. Niamh asks a few questions about your new place in New York, your new team. When you tell her it’s going well, you’re playing more, you are often in the starting IX she replies with “I know.” When you told her you scored in your first game with them, she replies the same “I know.”

You look at her. “You keep up with me?”

“Of course I do.” She says. “I watch your games, I keep up with you, you have me rooting for you all the way across the pond. I, uh, I have your jersey.”

“Really?” You definitely didn’t expect her to own a jersey of yours. You had a couple of her Chelsea jerseys and you knew she had a couple of your old Chelsea ones as well, you just didn’t expect her to buy a new one, for your new team after what happened.

“Yeah.” She sighs.

She then begins an apology list of her own. She apologizes first for the drunken call. She had remembered doing it. She apologized for storming out on you, she apologized for ignoring you when you said your goodbyes to the team. She apologized for not reaching out, something you were both guilty of.

“I do still love you.” She ends her apology with those words.

“I still love you Niamh.” You can’t help it, you loved this woman, everything about her.

You don’t get to follow up on what that meant for either of you as the waiter comes with the bill, Niamh grabbing it before you can, when you let out a pouting huff, she just gives you a glance.

“Please it’s the least I can do, plus I asked you to this.”

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “But I get the next one.”

“The next one?” Niamh’s face breaks into a small smile, just creeping on her lips. “As in, another time?”

“If that’s something you want to do?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Does that mean, we’re…” she points a finger between the two of you.

You knew it was maybe too soon to let her back in, too soon for both of you but you really didn’t care. Sitting here being able to see her, hear her, admire her, made you miss every inch of her. You wanted her back, you needed her back. Long distance would be something to figure out, but not right now, right now you had her in front of you, within reach.

You’re not sure what to call yourselves yet, so you nod. “If that’s something you want too.”

“Yeah.” The waiter comes back to the table to give Niamh her card back. You both thank him before leaving the restaurant and heading to her car. Niamh goes to open your car door, just just barely cracks it when you push it closed.

“Hey!” She turns back to scold you, coming face to face with each other.

“Hi.” You breath out practically whispering, this was the closest you two had been in a non-match situation in months. Your faces inches from each other. You look at her eyes, temporarily getting lost in their beautiful blue color. Your trance is broke by her blinking a few times. Your eyes fall to her lips and then back to her eyes. Niamh gets the hint and brings her hands up around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer.

“Is this okay?” She asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You find yourself leaning in, pressing your lips to hers, they feel better than you remember, you can feel your love for her flooding through your body, your hairs standing on edge, its electric and soft and it feels safe. You were kissing Niamh. Your Niamh. The love of your life, the girl you had waited for, the girl who was with you through your teenage years and into young adulthood. This was your girl, she was yours, you promised to never let her go again.

You kiss for a second, your front gently pressed to hers as her back is leaned up against the car. It’s a passionate kiss, both of you pouring months of built up feelings into it. When you break away you can’t hide the smile across your face and by the looks of it neither can Niamh.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you.” She then turns opening the door again, you let her this time and you get into the car. When she climbs in the drivers seat she asks where to.

“Yours?” You suggest. “I can think of a few more ways we can make up for lost time.” You give her a wink and Niamh gets the hint, quickly starting the car in the direction of her apartment. It only takes a few turns before her hand finds its way to your upper thigh, giving it a hard squeeze.

Sure it wasn’t the healthiest way of working out your problems together, but it worked, you both got your frustrations out, you were able to express your emotions, show how much you missed each other, how much you loved each other, and by the time morning came the two of you had decided you were back together.

Girlfriends, just long distance ones.

[in1-nutshell]

Concept, mtmte Megatron accidentally adopts young human buddy.

Like there's basically just a teenager on the lost light, and because teenagers have no fear of death, they go out of their way to interact with the ex-warlord.

Time goes on, and eventually, when Megatron realizes the dynamic he has, he goes into a typical angsty brooding session. Bonus points if it has Brooklyn 99 energy of Peralta accidently calling holt 'dad' energy.

I really do enjoy your blog because a lot of the stuff is either platonic or familial, and that's my favorite shit. Hope you have a good day and drink water.

Thank you for the compliment! I have been drinking water and been having a pretty decent day. Now, Human Buddy who knows no fear is about to strike the fear of their well being upon others! Megatron is their prime target...

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron 'accidentally' adopting human Buddy who fears nothing

SFW, familial, platonic, mentions of injuries but nothing graphic or in details, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

Oh, Buddy starts off as the bane of his existence.

Buddy joins the lost light before the events of Delphi happen. Meaning they have been dealing with everyone’s problems since a little over day one.

Let’s give Buddy some context.

By sheer luck, Buddy managed to enter the Cybertronain/ Human Liaison program and was now the proud representative in the Lost Light.

Many bots on the Lost Light thought that this would be a little liaison and would be a bit fearful of the hulking giants around them or some sleazy politician. Some were just curious as they had never seen a human until that moment.

Rodimus is preparing for a Prowl like or Magnus like person to board the bridge. That’s usually who they send when it comes to relations, except Marrisa Fairborn, she was an exception.

At first Buddy did come off as someone overly polite… that was soon going to change.

“Welcome Buddy aboard the Lost Light.”—Ultra Magnus

“Thank you, Ultra Magnus sir.”--Buddy

“And I will be your Captain! The names Rodimus Prime.”--Rodimus

“Well, I’m just Buddy. Sorry but I should be entering my room now before take-off. Thank you again for the introduction sirs. I hope to find you soon?”--Buddy

“Absolutely, we will start the meeting in an hour in the meeting room down your hall.”—Ultra Magnus

“Thank you.”--Buddy

“…Great another stick in the mud…”--Rodimus

“Oh, hush they seem like a nice human.”—Ultra Magnus

A week later

“Hey Rodimus, I bet you can throw me into that mattress over there.”--Buddy

“Oh? You’re on!”--Buddy

“I have the reports ready—OH SWEET PRIMUS! BUDDY!”—Ultra Magnus

Timeskip

“So let me get this straight… You bet Rodimus, one of the most impulsive and childish bots on bourd—”--Ratchet

“Hey!”--Rodimus

“To THROW you across the room to a small mattress and it didn’t occur to you that you could bounce off the mattress!?”--Ratchet

“Well at least all the blood is internal right? That’s were the blood is supposed to be?”--Buddy

“…”--Ratchet

“Oh Primus…”—Ultra Magnus

“Oh, Primus indeed.”--Rodimus

Buddy does not know what ‘self-preservation’ is. Its not in their vocabulary. Ratchet has lost count of the amount of times that Buddy has come in the med bay with an injury that was caused by some atrociously dumb plan.

“Alright… what’s the damage today? Whirl brought you in this time so it must be bad.”—Ratchet

“Rude.”—Buddy and Whirl

“Well, I’m waiting. What happened?”--Ratchet

“Well… I was trying to follow Skids trails through the vents, which is so cool to visit—”--Buddy

“Kid.”--Ratchet

“Right. Well, I thought I could jump across the vent opening and kind a didn’t…”--buddy

“What?”--Ratchet

“Good thing Whirl was there to break my fall! Sorry again Whirl for the glass.”--Buddy

“Next time you bust my glass at least do a flip next time you fall on your back.”--Whirl

“What you fell on your back?! You have glass imbedded in it!”--Ratchet

“Huh? That explains why my back hurts so much.”--Buddy

“…”--Ratchet

Rodimus takes it back he loves this little human. Buddy is his best human friend. Whirl wins this though, he already asked Buddy to be his Amica Endura, and they accepted!

“Hey Ratchet—”--Drift

“Shh!”--Ratchet

“Rude—”--Drift

“No. It’s quiet… to quiet…”--Ratchet

“What do you think we are going to get attack?”--Drift

“…No, it’s something much worse.”--Ratchet

“What could be worse—”--Drift

“Its Whirl and Buddy! They haven’t made noise in about 10 minutes!”--Ratchet

“Ratchet I think that them not making noise—”--Drift

BAM!

“Eat floor Cyclonus!”--Whirl

“Whirl! Run! He’s gaining on us!”--Buddy

“I stand corrected.”--Drift

They make friends with a lot of bots on board. Many are happy to meet an individual such as Buddy. But this also comes at a cost. Many bots have to watch for Buddy in case something bad happens to them. They are so small and they keep getting into dangerous situations!

Rung has a line of bots that express the same worry for Buddy one day doing something dumb and not being able to come back from it.

Buddy knows no fear.

How does the crew know this?

Buddy made it their life job to make Megatron uncomfortable when they found out he was going to be the Co-Captain.

“Hey! MegaDork!”--Buddy

“Hmm?”--Megatron

Bucket of oil falls from door.

“Theres more were that came from Bucket Head! That’s for Earth!”--Buddy

Megatron can’t do anything about it. He hates organics and he can’t kill this one, not without causing another war. When Ravage shows up, he thinks that Buddy might back down a bit. I mean what human in their right of mind would try and continue to prank him when ravage is around? Buddy takes this as a challenge that needs to be beaten. If anything, Ravage helps a bit.

“He slipped on the paint! Go! Go! Go!”--Buddy

“Ravage!?”--Megatron

“All is fair in music tapes and war Megatron.”—Ravage

Buddy has the ring tone of Megs comm to “Be Prepared” from the Lion King. Swerve helped them put in the music. He laughed nonstop when it first worked.

They are petty.

Everyone is on edge whenever those two are in the same room.

Half ready to shoot Megatron down the other half to get Buddy to safety once they manage to trigger Megatron.

Is there any chance that Megatron will get a break?

Yes, yes, he does.

He managed to finally get a place holder for a poetry night in one of the classrooms. Not to his surprise no bot shows up. He is about to leave when he hears the quick little sets of footsteps coming in.

“Wait! Wait! Hold the door! I’m here! I’m here!”--Buddy

“Buddy?”--Megatron

“I’m not late, am I? I just saw the flyer from Swerve. And—hold on—sprinted from my room back here.”--Buddy

“Oh, umm, no one came…”--Megatron

“Oh, okay then its just us two them Big Guy?”--Buddy

“Wait—”--Megatron

“Call dibs on the chair on the left.”--Buddy

Megatron never pegged Buddy to be into poetry. He is also floored with Buddy actually talking to him and giving pointers on how to improve his own pieces of work. Even referring to other poets’ works so he could get some inspiration!

He nearly misses the shy look Buddy gives when he compliments their work.

He thinks that this is a onetime thing.

He is deeply mistaken.

“Hey Megs! You ready for today’s meeting?”--Buddy

“Oh, yes I am.”--Megatron

“Good! I have a bunch of works that need to be peer reviewed and I can’t trust Rodimus to look over these; and Whirl sadly isn’t an option for these either.”--Buddy

“Why don’t you ask Magnus? Surely, he could also help?”--Megatron

“And have him explain to me the importance of an Oxford comma when I forgot to put one in my writing? Yeah no, I need your optics for this.”--Buddy

“…Me?”--Megatron

Buddy no longer causes too much trouble for the Ex-warlord. Still trouble but not as much as last time. They always come to the poetry club and even managed to snag a couple of their friends to come with.

He is not going to admit to anyone, well maybe Ravage, that he started growing a soft spot for them.

“Ravage… I think I might be growing fond of Buddy…”--Megatron

“Congratulations! You’re officially the last one to know.”--Ravage

These little interactions begin happening more and more, Megatron is just happy that things are finally going well.

Then it happened.

It was at Swerve’s.

He was sitting at the bar looking over Buddy’s latest writing with Buddy, themselves sitting patiently. He gives a compliment and gives them back the writing.

“You’ve improved Buddy. These are getting better with more time.”--Megatron

“Thanks Dad.”--Buddy

“…”--Everyone

“Why is everyone so quiet?”--Buddy

“You just called Megatron here, ‘Dad’.”--Whirl

“What’s a ‘Dad’?”--Tailgate

“No! I didn’t say ‘Dad’! I just said, ‘Thanks Man!’”--Buddy

“I don’t know Buddy. It sounded a lot like ‘Dad’ to me.”--Whirl

“Seriously, what’s a ‘Dad’?”--Tailgate

“Well, you heard wrong Whirl!”--Buddy

“Do you see me as a father figure Buddy?”--Megatron

“No! I see you as a bother figure if anything.”--Buddy

“Hey respect your Dad!”--Ratchet

“Is no one going to tell me what a ‘Dad’ is?”--Tailgate

After that interaction, Buddy begins to avoid Megatron after the confrontation and nearly shuts down when someone brings up the event. Megatron really wants to talk to buddy about the incident but decides not to. Maybe it was a mistake.

He broods over it for a while.

He finds Buddy again at Swerve’s where a rather drunk bot was making fun of Buddy for their little ‘slip up’.

“Wow Fleshy. You messed be so messed up in the processor to call Megatron your Dad.”—Drunk Bot

“Hey drop it.”--Buddy

“Oh, look at me! I’m so scared of a human how I could flick across the room if I wanted to.”—Drunk Bot

“Oh, please I know that barely existing processor of yours isn’t that dumb. But even then, I hope Natural selection takes you if you follow through that threat.”—Buddy

It was getting to the point where it was becoming insensitive.

Bots around were getting uneasy at the conversation and some looked like they were going to come over and do something.

Megatron is quicker.

As he strides over, he is met with the infamous brick of parenthood. Should he really take up such a mantle?

He takes that mantle by the horns and makes it his.

“My child, is something wrong?”--Megatron

Voice crack “Nope. Just Peachy.”--Buddy

Everyone looks over.

Buddy is just beaming.

Megatron has no regrets saying what he said, he lets Buddy know this.

No, Buddy isn’t crying. You’re the one crying.

[blackdollette]

THUNDER. - jack thurlow

✩♬.ᐟ now playing: thunder. - blue banisters

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: if you're on fire, just keep burning...

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly

female!reader x jack

word count: 531

contents: angsty, toxic relationship, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes

lightning flickered through the windows of the ghastly eerie house, jack’s voice coming out as booming thunder as his explosive nature broke free once again. your eyes scanned the room as you sat in front of him on the bed, your heart sinking at the cruel words he spoke. 

there were broken picture frames, shattered bottles of alcohol, cigarette butts decorating the room, making it look like the worst storm hit it. 

but jack hadn’t been this stormy a few hours ago. you and him had been at the bar with a few of his friends. ones that you never liked much. you sat at the counter, fidgeting with your thumbs as you listened to him chat away with his buddies. you glanced over at him, seeing the way he beamed with joy as bright as the sun. but nobody knew of the rainy day that would arrive after the party.

you were counting down the days until he would finally strike a bolt through your weary heart. until the day he would roll to the next girl and rain on her parade instead.

his harsh words cut through your thoughts, making your blood curdle. “you just have to be all gloomy everytime we go out, huh?! i have no clue what to do to get a goddamn smile out of you!” you looked down sadly, knowing that he was right. you had left the bar at midnight to go smoke a cigarette in the parking lot, needing to get away from the buzz. 

he met you out there, a bottle of alcohol in his hand glinting from the moonbeams. and just like that, his sunshine was gone. you saw the rage flicker in his gaze, a storm brewing in his mind. 

every argument led to a breakup that lasted as long as a shooting star. he would send you back home, saying that he never wanted to see you again. then he’d show up at your front door in the middle of the night, dressed in a suit with a bouquet of roses in his hand as tears flowed down his hollow cheeks.

the night would end with you two cuddling in bed, his head on your shoulder and his arm wrapped around your waist as if losing you was the scariest thing in the world to him. and as much as you loved to see the rainbow after the storm, you could never manage to find the pot of gold at the end of it.

you could never tell what was going to be on the forecast. he had always been wild and unpredictable like that, but you love that about him.

he had a burning fire inside of him that made him unlike any man you’ve ever known. he kept you ablaze, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were the one that burnt him out. and that was the last thing you ever wanted to do. 

you and him both knew that the end of the relationship was inevitable, but you wanted to hold onto the warm of his flame for as long as you could before this wild candle of yours stopped burning for good...

author's note: this isnt the fic that I promised yall! its just a short little one that ive been meaning to get out :))

[wazzappp]

So you know your green lantern milagro au. What am I saying ofc you do it’s literally your au. I’m imagining like, Movie Milagro and Jaime here, for starters, just cause funzies. Anyways. I think it would be SO FUN if Milagro learns about the Reach and their whole deal while like, training or smth, and halfway through she’s like ‘Holy shit. That’s my BROTHER you’re talking about.’ And she has to deal with the knowledge that at any point her brother might just get possessed by galatic supercolonizers and start enslaving / murdering people. And she gets home and tries to explain it to jaime and he’s not having any of it (he and khaji are best buddies, duh, khaji would never do that but would they? he doesn’t know.) Oh and at some point it would be really fun and angsty if milagro has to actually fight jaime while he’s being possessed because what’s more fun than the crisis of ‘hurt my family to save the world or hurt the world to save my family’

YESYESYES THAT FUN ANGST IS WHAT GOT ME THINKING ABOUT THIS AU IN THE FIRST PLACE!!

I love the idea of her fighting possessed Jaime. Milagro has to try and convince the other green lanterns that NO its actually NOT really Khaji Da its those BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKIN REACH BASTARDS. Milagro strikes me as the kind of person who would kill if she ever heard an 'I told you so' which, like. same honestly it makes me murderous. So stop being so 'green lanterny' and fight the reach mothership so she can focus on only mildly beating the shit out of her brother while also staying alive.

I think Milagro would have some difficulty listening to the lanterns AT ALL about this honestly. Girlboss is LOYAL loyal. I think she would need some reminding about exactly WHAT Khaji and Jaime are capable of together. Remembering that he was very very close to just straight up killing Carapax (should have turned that man into a blood fountain honestly. Jaime, puncture his jugular and watch that shit become the centerpiece of a fucking royal garden) might get her to go 'yeahhhhh. ok yeah I could kind of see it'. But I think for her to REALLY believe them she would have to see Jaime being particularly ruthless. Like if he was going after someone who came after their family. OHHHHHOHOHOHOHOHO PRIME SCARY BEEBLE HOURS FRFR. Don't get me wrong, Milagro would go after any motherfucker that threatens her family, its the fact that JAIME. Peacemaking, understanding, kind Jaime is ready to beat this guy into the ground, that troubles her (especially if its presented as evidence by the lanterns).

Honestly if you could convince her that her brother is mostly replaced I think you might even get her to work with other lanterns on some kind of capture mission. The council is like 'The scarab on earth must be eliminated' and Milagro finds herself in a position where she can say 'thats BS he's my brother I know him'. Then they can bring up all the violence he's been engaging in and she can propose that they should at least do a capture mission instead of like. an execution. She really is doing everything she can and staying loyal to her brother, but HES NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THAT. OHHHHHHH HEARTBREAK. OHHHH PAIN AND SUFFERING AND BETRAYALLLLL <3

I also have just. the CLEAREST fucking mental movie of them working together after getting the lanterns to just chill the fuck out a little bit to evacuate a planet. Jaime keeps trying to approach the people on this alien planet so he can direct them to evacuation ships but they just. Keep running away from him. Doesn't matter what he says doesn't matter what he does, they think he's going to kill them. Milagro flies in and the kid Jaime has been trying to convince to come with him runs behind Milagro and BEGS her to fight Jaime and "make the scary reach soldier go away". Idk where these ideas come from but I put them on repeat so often girl help the daydreams are becoming sentient.

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

Stay

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] sorry for the lack of posts for valen-cries I’m still working on my requests but I thought I’d finish this wip. Also if it wasn't obvious this is a songfic based on stay by Colorblind

[warnings!] self deprecation, metaphorical abuse? Implication of drugs but not actually taking any cause it’s also metaphorical. Its just angsty and ambiguous, feel free to interpret the ending how you wish.

Valen-cries masterlist available here!

Abuse me, I like the punishment

You keep me focused, I don't need no Ritalin

I like when you keep me guessing, its alright

Its alright

It was only supposed to be one night but one night turned into two., two to three until there were too many to count. It had started with just some light flirting and the odd touch yet it quickly became so much more, so much so that you weren’t sure where you stood anymore. 

Steve was so persuasive with his sweet whispers and cheeky looks, how could you refuse? It didn’t help that you had a major crush on him back in high school and the moment he’d so much as looked your way, you’d fallen again. 

How pathetic, here you were fighting off your feelings for a guy who only ever saw you as a fuck buddy. Just another toy to warm his bed like numerous others before you, as if you even stood a chance. However, saying that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Can we turn our feelings off?

I need you baby, just for one night,

One night

He’d call at the same time every night you spent apart, his gravely voice sending chills down your spine in the silence of your bedroom, where the boundaries of friendship and romance blurred across the distance. Some nights you’d talk for hours and hours, others simply bask in each others silence finding the need for words overrated.

In the darkness of the night you’d find yourself tracing over the freckles and faint scars that kissed his skin, trying to memorise every inch of him as if he would disappear at any second. If you could contain this memory forever you would, alas that would only make the pain harder when you inevitably parted.

I know what you’re looking for,

You make it feel like its the first time, every time

Every time

Coming down from the high was always difficult, doubt crippling you as you lay cold and empty. You tell yourself it will be the last time and it never is, the unhealthy hold he has over you enticing you back again and again. Unsure of wether you could do this anymore and chest tightening with every breath, what other choice was there but to run?

I don't really wanna fight right now,

I don't really see the point right now,

And if the love wasn’t real enough what the hell we gonna do when the truth comes out?

Steve wasn’t really one for commitment, you both knew that, so why did it hurt so much watching you leave each time? Would you stay if he asked? Or were you only in it for the sex? He had no right to ask, his reputation made sure of that but that didn’t stop the conflicting feelings threatening to spill with your presence. 

I’d rather start it on a blank page,

I think I like it with a new face

You dont wanna wait for me, its safe to be

Stuck inside this place where we keep faking things,

Running in circles looking for an end that didn’t exist seemed pointless but anything was easier than confronting your feelings, even uncertainty felt more stable than the mess you were floating in, head barley above water and still refusing to swim. You hadn’t realised that in the ocean of your mind Steve had been searching for you, begging you to stay afloat with him. 

I think you’re finally breaking me,

The way it seems you’re making me,

Stay 

[batty4steddie]

@spicycinnabun and I expanded the friends prompt. Hope you enjoy the angsty fluff from us ❤️️

My Buddy, My Bro, My Pal The party had been going on for about an hour or so. Steve was hosting. He didn’t know when Eddie had arrived but could hear his voice, and then he saw him chatting with Jonathan and Nancy. Steve shot him a smile from across the room. He was so happy Eddie was there. It’d been a long work week, and they hadn’t seen each other since last weekend. He couldn’t wait until they got a moment to greet each other. Chrissy and Robin were there, too, so Eddie had plenty of people to talk to while Steve was making the rounds.

Steve was just catching up with some of his friends who had gone off to college. Everyone was back home visiting their own families during the school break. It’d been a perfect time for a party with his parents out of town. 

When Steve finally broke away from the conversation, it was to refill some of the snacks and drinks. He ran into Eddie in the kitchen. “Hey, man. Happy you made it.” Steve went in for a half hug and gave Eddie’s back a few hard pats as he pulled back and smiled at him. “How’s my good buddy doing? Did you get a drink?”

There it was again. The word Eddie so loathed. Buddy. 

Eddie thought that shit was going to stop once they’d started fooling around together, but if anything, it had only increased. Buddy this, bro that. Once, Steve had even called him pal.

Eddie should have grinned. He should have played along like he usually did. But he was four vodka Cokes in, and his feelings were more feelingy, weeks of pent-up frustration hitting its peak. 

So, he did something monumentally bold and got into Steve’s space, putting his (fifth) drink down and backing him up against one of the counters. “You know what? Buddies don’t kiss each other,” Eddie said, breathing the word harshly between them. His fists clenched at his sides. “Yeah, you… You’ve definitely had a few.” Steve could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was worried they were standing too close to the gas stove. Eddie saw Steve’s eyes widen, his head twitching like he was just barely concealing the urge to look around and make sure nobody had heard that. Eddie barrelled on. It was a courtesy that he was even lowering his voice. He didn’t have to. “If you want to keep on pretending that’s all we are, you go right ahead, Steve. But I won’t be.”

Steve’s heart sped up like it normally did when Eddie got close to him. His eyebrows rose as the counter dug into his ass. This would’ve been really fucking hot if Eddie wasn’t so angry at him. He was surprised that Eddie had that reaction to his comment. He thought it was an innocent enough statement, but clearly, he had struck the wrong chord. 

Steve’s eyes were doing all the reacting, looking at Eddie but dying to see if anyone had overheard. If they had, it probably wouldn’t have made sense to them anyway. No one knew he’d seduced Eddie into more than just kissing him. Friends didn’t kiss or fuck each other like wild rabbits, either.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not pretending. I didn’t know that you wanted this to be an official thing. I thought you wanted to keep things casual,” he said coolly, even though his heart was beating out of his chest. “I’m open to something more exclusive if that’s what you want.” 

They hadn’t talked about what they were, but if Eddie was gonna call him out so aggressively and publicly at his own damn party, he was going to get Eddie to admit that he wanted to be his boyfriend. What he had been doing was bullying him about being friendly and excited to see him. Wasn’t this a mutual decision they needed to come to before feelings got involved? It was too damn late for that, apparently, with Eddie’s alcohol-induced liberty.   

Eddie was short-circuiting. Thrown completely off. “Excuse me, what?” 

Heat rose to Eddie’s face with the speed of a Nascar driver, leaving a burning trail up his cheeks. He had been… like, one hundred percent sure Steve was deeply in the closet, and that was why he kept insisting they were friends and not, you know, fuck buddies. More than dudes who spent time together. Steve didn’t call any of the chicks he slept with what he called Eddie, right?

“I—I never said we have to be official,” Eddie finally said. His face was blisteringly hot at this point. Had Steve actually said he was open to it? To him? To dating Eddie? Fuck. “I just thought…” Eddie swallowed (fuuuuuck), “…you wanted to hide me under the rug like some bro. So I was pissed about that.”

Did Eddie want to go steady with Steve? 

Hell yes!

He had been infatuated with the hairy bastard long before they’d started sleeping together.

“I would be amenable to. Um. To being exclusive. With you. Yes.” God, he was usually way smoother than this. His fists finally uncurled. He looked at Steve uncertainly. “Do… you want to?” 

Steve had said he was open, but what did that mean? Open wasn't really yes.

“I invited you here.” Steve wanted to end the night alone with Eddie. 

They’d spent the last few weekends in his bedroom, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. (Steve didn’t even know he had that many moles and that there really was one there. He’d laughed like a hooligan, and it felt like he was gonna break his neck trying to find it in the mirror. Eddie had helped him find it eventually.)

Steve hadn’t been exclusive with anyone since he’d gotten with Nancy, but the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie made his stomach hurt. 

“And we hadn’t talked about it yet,” Steve pointed out. He wasn’t lying. He was open to it because he’d been thinking about it. He saw the way Eddie’s demeanor changed from hurt to hopeful. “I brought it up, didn’t I? Yes, Eddie, that’s what I want. I promise not to refer to you as my friend, without boy in front of friend ever again.”  

Steve wanted to prove it. It was his party, and he could kiss who he wanted to. While Eddie had been so concerned about being a secret hookup, Steve was only concerned about what would make them both happy. He knew kissing each other did, so to hell with what everyone at the party thought about Steve “The Hair” Harrington kissing Eddie “The Freak” Munson. They could get the fuck out and leave them the hell alone if they didn’t like it. 

Steve smiled and kissed his boyfriend for the first time. Eddie, still stunned but quickly getting with the program, clutched Steve’s hips and kissed him back.

In the background, they heard Robin and Chrissy cheering. “Nancy, you owe us twenty bucks!” Robin yelled.

[ladylooch]

The Spiral [Lio Meier] - Part 1

A/N: I have been working on this for weeks. But this past weekend this was the only WIP I worked on. I ate, slept and drank Lio Meier’s downfall. It dominated every waking hour. But I am really proud of this one. Whew! I was in the writing trenches bbys! But here it is, in all its glory. The time when everything in Lio’s life blows up.

I have some very specific warnings below. This is a deep one, layered, and may be difficult to read for some. Please consume your content carefully 😘

Warnings: Childhood trauma (mental/psychological), a lot of mentions and insinuations of abortion, VERY angsty, drinking/ drunk Lio.

Word Count:4.1k

Crackles and pops of the bonfire embers are highlighted by the inky Swiss night surrounding the Meier and Hischier families on a cool summer evening.

“Maybe like thirty seconds left.” Timo murmurs to Lio as he turns over the marshmallow hanging from the fire stick.

“LuLu and I are going to eat these in the tree house.” Lio announces, leaning back into his dad’s chest.

“Okay.” Timo chuckles, squeezing his son tight to him for a hug. “What do you think now? Is it done?”

“It’s gonna fall.”

“Yeah, we should pull it out.” Timo agrees. “Can you get the graham crackers and chocolate?” Lio does. Together, they work the marshmallow off onto the awaiting ingredients. Lio loves summer in Switzerland. He eats his whole body weight in s’mores with Swiss chocolate. His mama is right. American chocolate is not the same. 

“No Reeses cups today?” Timo asks. 

“No.” Lio says, pressing the crackers together, careful not to break them. 

“Mmm, who are you? Mama usually can’t keep Reeses stocked for you.” Timo chuckles. 

“That’s only in Jersey.” Lio says, bringing the s’more up to his lips. He bites into the gooey and delectable treat. He grins at his dad, having no idea his face is already covered in chocolate. “Best one yet.” 

“Good. Enjoy, buddy. Livy, come here and daddy will make a s’more with you.” Lio books it off to the back corner of their spacious yard in Switzerland, where his best friend and cousin, Lucie Hischier, awaits for him.

“You take too long.” Lucie quips, annoyed. 

“Your marshmallow is burned to a crisp.” Lio scoffs in response

“I like it!” She grins holding up her sticky fingers. She already ate one of the two she made. They both giggle as Lio sits down next to her. They eat in content silence. From their spot in the tree house, they can see down to their whole family mingling together around the warm fire.  Mack and Livy are with Timo making s’mores the long way like Lio did. “When we grow up, are we gonna live by each other?” Lucie wonders. 

“Yeah, LuLu. Maybe by then you’ll have patience.” Lucie may be Uncle Nico’s daughter, but she is nothing like him. Lio thinks if Lucie played hockey, she would spend most of her time in the penalty box. 

“I have patience.” She squints. “Maybe we will live here full time.” If Lio’s mama had it her way, they already would. Lio shrugs. He likes both places they live, but it would be nice to see their grandparents more. “I wanna grow up and have lots of babies after I get married.”

“Yeah. Like our parents.”

“Well, like my parents” Lucie shrugs. Lio licks the bit of marshmallow clinging to his fingers. 

“My parents are married?”

“Yeah, but your parents had you before they got married…” Lucie tilts her head at him.

“Well that’s cause they couldn’t wait to get married to have me.” Lio says matter of fact. “They wanted me first cause they didn’t want to have a baby during the season.” 

Lucie anxiously bites her lip, glancing again at where their parents are sitting by the bonfire. 

“That’s not what I heard.” Little Lucie doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. So she says “I heard my dad tell my mom that Auntie Em only moved to Jersey because of you. That she didn’t want to leave her life in Switzerland and he isn’t sure they would have ever gotten married or been together without you.” 

Lio stares blankly back at Lucie. His little blue eyes lift beyond his smaller cousin where she munches innocently away on her s’more. His eyes crawl up the wood boards to where they had carved their initials inside on the first day they were allowed up here. From there, he moves to his parents laughing together at the bonfire. His mom is holding Livy’s s’more as she takes cautions bites. They never told him that. Lucie must be wrong.

“No, I don’t think that is what happened. You heard wrong.” Lio tries. His voice sounds small and far away to him because his heartbeat is pounding so hard through his head.

“I guess Uncle Timo had told daddy he didn’t want any kids.” Lucie didn’t hear her dad say the full sentence- Uncle Timo didn’t want kids without Emma. So her innocent repeat paints a different picture. “Guess he had to change his mind.” 

Lio Meier is only 10 years old, but the whole world shifts under him from that moment forward.

- - - 

A decade and a half later, Lio Meier slumps low on the couch in his parent’s living room in Switzerland. His right hand rubs at the splitting headache in the center of his forehead, while his left holds a glass of expensive whiskey from his dad’s collection. If his parents are going to sit him down for an intervention, he is not doing it sober. He brings the glass to his lips, sucking down a big gulp as his mom and dad walk into the room. They’re already on their good cop, bad cop shit. Lio sniffs, rolling his eyes as they sit down in front of him.

Emma purses her lips at her son’s obvious contempt at being called home. But what she is hearing around town is concerning. Rumors swirl in their little mountain village that he has… followed in the family footsteps? Maybe? That some nice, Swiss girl he went to school with has wound up pregnant after a night with him. Apparently, when the girl told Lio, he tossed a few bills of cash at her and told her to take care of it. Emma isn’t quite sure how things came to be this way with Lio. She hopes to find out in this conversation.

Timo sits next to his wife, fingers clasped together, silent as he stares at his son. Lio is unrecognizable today, really since he returned home from his last season. Him and Emma knew something happened in Jersey. Lio didn’t elaborate and Lucie was vague to Emma when she asked. The other concern is this being a reaction to his lack of success so far in his professional career. A Stanley Cup seems lightyears away for the franchise again. 

“We just gonna stare at each other all day?” Lio turns his hands up in annoyance at them.

“Lio.” Timo warns. 

“What? You two called me here and now you’re holding me hostage in silence.”

“Honestly, I’m trying to find the right words to say to you.” Emma begins, shaking her head. “I’m hearing things.” She finally settles on. “And I’d like to hear from you if they are true.”

“Depends on what you heard.” Lio reaches for the whiskey glass again. Timo’s laser blue eyes watch him gulp down the brown liquid. 

“Why don’t you put that back down.” Lio pauses with the glass on his lips. His dad stares him down. Timo wasn’t asking; he was telling. Lio puts the glass back on the coaster with a loud ping.

“I heard… someone in this town may be pregnant with your baby.”

“Maybe she was. I don’t know.” Lio waves it off with a flick of his fingers. He puts those same fingers back on his splitting headache. 

“What do you mean maybe and I don’t know?” Timo asks. “Those seem like things you should be pretty fucking sure about.”

“Her and I talked a few days ago. I gave her money to take care of it. It’s handled. You aren’t grandparents.” Emma’s spine snaps to attention. 

“What?”

“I told her-“

“I heard what you said.” Emma seethes, getting visibly angry. “So your approach was to tell her to take care of it? Instead of taking ownership of your choices?”

“Look, I’m not having a kid. I know you two made the choice to ruin your lives by having me, but I’m not following in your idiotic footsteps.”

“Excuse me?” Timo scoffs at his son incredulously. “You’re going to judge our choices right now?” He doesn’t see the way his wife is retreating in on herself. It has been over 15 years since Emma last felt judged about getting pregnant with Lio. But her son is now facing a similar situation and his contempt towards her stings. Small tears fill her brown eyes as she watches Lio and Timo jaw back and forth. Timo gets louder. Lio sits up in the chair. Soon, they’re both standing. This is not how she saw this conversation going.

“We are so disappointed in you right now.” Timo shakes his head, exhaling heavily. His cheeks are tight, lips pursed angrily. Emma stands, dashing between the men, one hand on each of their chests. 

“Disappointed?” Lio spits, lip curling in disgust. “She was trying to ruin my life by getting pregnant. All she wanted was my money and to take away the best years of my career like mom did to you, by turning you into the family man you didn’t want to be. I had to protect myself and I would do it again in an instant.”

Shock stills the living room. Timo forgets his son completely. His hands go to Emma, wincing as she retreats from his touch. 

“I never said that.” Timo says immediately to his wife. “Those are his words, not mine, baby.” Timo turns, snarling back at Lio. “Where do you get off?”

“Me!? You made a mistake having me!” Lio screams at his dad. “It’s why you lied to me about it for so long! So I fixed that for us by not doing it all over again!” Angry tears wreak havoc in Lio’s blue eyes. Timo’s face collapses into a twisted frown at the obvious, intense pain on his son’s face.

“Lee…” Timo trails off. 

“I know all about it. I’ve known since I was ten years old that you two didn’t actually want me. You didn’t plan for me or pray for me or wish for me. I was a mistake.” Every moment Timo and Emma uttered their little white lie runs through each of their minds. They never wanted Lio to feel unwanted. They didn’t think the fudging of the truth was hurtful or would cause any damage. But they also didn’t realize their son had known the truth since he was ten years old. Each lie for the last 15 years has chipped away at Lio. Now, being in the same circumstances as his parents, he has reached his boiling point in their living room.

“No. Lio-” Emma starts, voice shuddering with her emotions.

“You shouldn’t of had me.” Lio looks directly at Emma. “You should have pulled the plug when you had a chance and lived your life here the way you wanted to. You ruined everyone’s lives. You choose to have me and dad felt obligated to take care of us.”

“You don’t get to speak down to me about choices that gave you life because your recklessness is trying to make you accountable.” Emma’s previously silent rage explodes through the room as she steps around Timo. “Get out of my house.” She jabs her pointer finger into Lio’s sternum.

“Fuck you guys.” Lio spits out at them. 

Timo leans forward to go after their son for his disgusting display of disrespect. But Emma’s shocked whimper stops any more forward progress. The house shakes at the timber of Lio slamming door.

“We wanted him.” Emma whispers to Timo, big tears raining down from her brown eyes. “We never lied about that. He thinks…” She puts her hand over her mouth and begins to sob.

Timo doesn’t say it, but he knows what Emma would say if she could speak.

Lio believes his parents love him out of obligation. 

And he has for the last 15 years.

- - -

After the fall out with his parents, Lio heads into town and grabs a post-shift beer with Liv, who obviously has not heard from their parents about what is up. Quickly, Liv leaves to head back to her and Luca’s place for an at-home date night.

“We are going to paint headshots of each other.” Liv giggles, knowing Luca is a shit painter. She can’t wait to see how wonderfully bad it is. Lio would rather burn his eyebrows off than do dopey shit like that with a girl. 

Lio sticks around town, ignoring the looks and whispers that follow him. He’s had people talking about him in some way or another his whole life. He not going to start giving a shit about it now. 

One beer turns into 6, which turns into 3 shots of whiskey too, until he is drunk enough to relax from the confrontation with his parents. He wanders his way back towards home, stopping at Lucie and Connor’s lake house to check in on his favorite little girl. Stella Wood sleeps on her dad’s chest in the living room where he is continuing to watch mindless, toddler TV. 

“The show getting good?” Lio quips.

“Fuck no. But the remote is tucked into the cushion and I can’t get it without waking her up. She’s been a Tasmanian Devil today.” Lucie snorts in the kitchen where she is wiping the stone counter off. “And if I wake her up, hot stuff in the kitchen is going to be very unhappy with me.”

“You were the one who gave her cotton candy.” Lucie calls.

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. You were right, baby.” Connor looks at Lio. “Fun though.” Lio chuckles, collapsing into the big reclining chair across from them.

“You want a beer?” Lucie asks, walking in with three beer bottles. 

“Yeah.” Lio sighs, happy to have the coldness in his grip. He pops the top, taking two big glugs. Lucie goes to sit between Connor’s thighs curling her legs up to her chest as she takes a sip of beer.

“So… what’s new?” Lucie asks with insinuation. Lio looks away from where he is stroking his thumb over the raised words of his bottle. Their eyes connect and he knows Lucie has heard the same rumors his parents have. Probably from her parents. 

“Same shit, different day.” Lio takes another pull from the bottle. Lucie, ever the mom now, holds her calm presence. “Had a little fun last month that caught up with me.” He widens his eyes, thinking again of the conversation with Isabella a few days ago. His stomach had dropped from his body and he choked on his beer. He thought they were going to have a drink and head back to his place. Not have a bombshell explode his whole life in three words. 

“What are you going to do?” Lucie asks.

“Nothing. She did something about it.”

“Oh.” Lucie takes another sip of her beer. A slight crinkle appears in her forehead.

“Yeah and apparently now I’m not welcome at my parents’ house.”

“Really?” Connor asks as he smooths over Stella’s wild, brown curls.

“Yeah… things got a little heated today and they didn’t like what I had to say. Apparently holding a mirror up is not appreciated in this family.” Lio takes another sip. “Like, I get they made whatever decision they did with me, but I didn’t ask to be born, and they shouldn’t get pissed at me for not wanting to continue in their bastard child tradition.” Lucie flinches at the harshness of his comment. She’s never liked that word, especially not now after having their child before her and Connor were married.

“What mirror?” Lucie inquires.

“Just that my dad didn’t want kids and was forced into it when my mom got pregnant with me. Or that my mom wanted to stay in Switzerland and couldn’t because of her choice to have me. My dad’s career was never the same after I was born, so that decision cost them a lot career and money wise. This was a mistake I could fix so I did. They could be more grateful for preventing a rinse and repeat.”

The room is silent for a moment as Lio’s words fall between all of them. The TV is the only disruption. Lio tilts his beer bottle back, hoping the liquid will wash down the awkward air in the room.

“You are a fucking moron. Your parents are doing really well and your family is great, Lee. Happy and healthy.” Connor shakes his head. Lio’s out-there way of thinking about being domestic in any situation is once again rearing it’s ugly head. No wonder he lost Savannah. She’s better off without this version of Lio anyway.

“LuLu gets it.” Lio motions to his cousin.

“No, Lee…. I don’t think I do.” Lucie straightens. “Because from what you’re telling me, I’ve also ruined an NHL player’s life, and stole his best years from him, by getting pregnant with his baby for the money.”

“Luc.” Lio chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s not like you were playing baby roulette with just anyone. Connor was already a millionaire.” Lucie instantly looks taken aback, which confuses Lio because the three of them have definitely joked about this before.

“Oh, so that’s what all the girls in your life have in common? We’re all just gold-digging whores? The girl you knocked up who you told to take care of it? And your mama who wrecked your dad’s life by choosing to have you? And me who found the most expensive rookie in the league to knock me up?” Technically Lio was that year, but that is neither here nor there. Lio is frustrated by the way Lucie is stuffing words into his mouth. 

“At least the one that stuck wasn’t Marco’s. But I’m sure you would of taken care of that one. Not enough commas in his bank account.”

“Alright. Time out.” Connor shakes his head, recognizing how drunk Lio is. Things are about to turn ugly and he doesn’t want to have to time his catch of Lucie’s hand when it inevitably winds up to slap her cousin.

“That is so fucked up, Lio.” Lucie snaps, putting her beer down on the end table with a slam.

“No what is fucked up is that you didn’t take my advice after you two broke up.” He gestures between Lucie and Connor.

“Oh my god.” Lucie gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. The room goes still as tears fill her big brown eyes. She winces, like she is realizing something she never has before. “When I came to stay with you, you told me you would take care of everything. That if Connor and I couldn’t work it out, you and I would figure it out. All this time, I thought that meant you would take care of us. We would be our own family….” Her eyebrows furrow. “But you hoped I wouldn’t pick this at all.”

“Wait, what?” Connor asks, turning to his wife. He looks across the room at Lio who’s eyes are widening.

Of course Connor knows it was Lucie’s choice, always her choice. It was early in her pregnancy when the infamous hit happened. Lucie could have… made a different choice. Connor thinks about how safe it felt for her to be with Lio during that time. Then a cold shiver rolls down his spine, wondering if Lio was really in Lucie’s ear telling her not to go through with it. Did he give her money? Offer to drive her to the clinic? Promise to never tell Connor what happened? It was a miscarriage, Con. I’m so sorry. Connor’s blue eyes darken with storm clouds as his daughter stirs slightly against his chest. What lengths would Lio have gone to cover up their mistake like he is trying to do with his right now?

“Did you tell Lucie to get rid of our daughter?” Connor’s voice is tight as he asks the words he has to. Lio flinches.

“What?”

“Did you tell Lucie to not have Stell?” Connor repeats louder, more firm. Lucie glances nervously between the two men. Connor laughs in disbelief at Lio’s panicked face.

“I told Lucie I would support whatever choice she wanted to make… that she didn’t have to do this if she didn’t want to. She was really scared.” Lio points to Lucie generally like she isn’t in the room. She is hearing his words from a completely different perspective than three years ago. “I know that sounds bad now because Stell is here and we love her, but at the time, Lucie needed to hear that she had options.”

“Yeah and the option you proposed to her was to end her pregnancy.”

“It was mentioned, yes. But there was also adoption or raising Stell alone or… this. What you two have now.”

“Alone!?” Connor stutters out. “So, what if she wanted to raise Stell without me?”

“As I said, I was supportive of whatever Lucie wanted to do.” Connor inhales sharply. 

“You need to leave, Lio.” Connor stands, passing their whole world over to his wife on the couch. He smooths Stella’s hair down as she cuddles into Lucie’s shoulder. Connor feels his knees almost give out in pain. What would life be like without Stell? Without her soft kisses and baby giggles and huge hugs when he comes home from the road. How could Lio have supported a life for Stell without Connor? Or a life without her ever existing to begin with? 

“I just wanted to support her! Why is that bad?” Lio’s heart is in his throat now, as Connor slowly steps forward.

“What would be good about Lucie wanting to raise Stella without me? You were going to be daddy to my kid? You are right about one thing tonight, you’d be a shit fucking dad, Lio.”

“I…” Lio never thought about any of these scenarios in depth. He really just wanted to show up for Lucie. And Lucie chose Connor so quickly it didn’t seem to matter.

“Would you have told me?”

“W-what?” Lio puts his beer down, moving to sit up straighter. He swallows nervously.

“Would you, my best friend, have told me I had a daughter?” Lio is silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he would have. Lucie was so scared and had held so tightly to his shirt those two weeks she had lived with him. He would have protected her, but that doesn’t feel like the right answer to reiterate now. Lio looks at Lucie, needing her to step in and say something. Her eyes are lined with betrayed tears, looking at him like she isn’t sure who he even is. Why have people been looking at him like this lately? What the fuck is going on?

“Luc…?”

“You’re a fucking coward, Lio. Anyone who thinks our daughter shouldn’t be here doesn’t get the privilege of being in our lives. Get out. You are no longer welcome here.” Lio tries to speak.

“Get. The fuck. Out!” Connor bellows, hands tightened into fists at his sides. Stell startles. She wakes up, immediately sensing the tension in the room and begins to cry. Connor turns away from Lio, rushing back to his wife and daughter. 

“It’s okay, Stell. You’re okay. Mommy and daddy are here.” Connor gathers her back from Lucie. He turns back to Lio. “I’m not fucking asking you again.” 

Lio stands, leaving his half full beer bottle. He rips the front door open and leaves the second home he’s been kicked out that day.

- - -

The next morning, a ping wakes Lio. He wants it all to be a bad dream, but the raw realness of what happened yesterday mars his body with physical aches and pains, including a hell of a hangover. He groans as he grabs his phone, pulling it to his face. He squints, seeing a new text awaiting him from an unsaved number.

Hi Lio, It’s Isabella. I went to the clinic and they told me I’m not pregnant. It was a false positive. Guess we dodged a bullet.

Lio stares at the text, watching his cursor blink in anticipation of him responding. He doesn’t.

Dodged a bullet? Then why does it feel like he is still bleeding out.

Continue reading: Part 2

[wesslan]

20 questions for writers

thank you @adelfie for the tag<3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

18! (and one hidden). i did not think it was that many??? thought it was 10 tops, lol

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

272,860

3. What fandoms do you write for?

batman, used to write some dsmp, but now im kinda eeh about it. i also (for some godforsaken reason) have a harry potter WIP thats been sitting in my docs for like two years that i kinda wanna finish, kinda not (jk r*wling suck my dick challenge)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

cards on the table

when in gotham: don’t drink the water

robin radio

o bury me not on the lone prairie

and their dreams they dreamed awake

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try!!!! the number overwhelms me sometimes, but i try to answer when i have the energy! :,)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh god, i mean… i pretty much only write happy/hopeful endings🤠 mayyyybe ‘you have (1) new message’? its not all the way angsty but it’s kind of?? angsty??

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

gee whizz buddy see above and take your pick, really

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have gotten one (1) hate comment and i treasured it dearly until the person that posted it deleted it😭 other than that, nawt really. some people give unsolicited advice/critique, but thats about it

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

nope. not really my thing

10. Do you write crossovers?

again, not really my thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of! sure hope it stays that way

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yesss!!! so cool! they asked permission, and now my fic exists in a whole other language!!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, and i think i’d be really awful at it. i cant say no to stuff, i cant keep deadlines, and i dont enjoy people being in the kitchen when i cook, so to speak

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

BAYBEY!! you KNOW i was a klance shipper first and a human second when i was like? 14? now tho? i’m shipping myself with sixteen hours of sleep and financial freedom. but also, deep in my heart,,,, charlie and carlisle from twilight. you could have been so beautiful.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

man at this point, who knows what i’ll finish. maybe instant repeater ‘99. i LOVE the concept and the world building. but also i kinda left the fandom,,,

16. What are your writing strengths?

people (including my interactive storytelling teacher) have told me im good at writing distinct characters/realistic dialogue! so i guess that! :,D

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

CONSISTENCY. finishing things. ending up hating what i’ve written like 3 months after it’s done.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

well,,, that’s what i always do. english is another language to me! cop out answer, lmao. but other than that, i guess i could be persuaded to write a few lines in spanish here and there. did study it for 7 years, after all.

overall, i thinks it pretty cool! as long as there is an ez translation somewhere, easy to understand without a translation, or if it’s not done in a way that bi/multilinguals absolutely would not speak B)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh god. percy jackson. it’s still out there somewhere. i forgot my username and password so i’ll prolly never find it (thank god) but yeah. it was solangelo bc i was closeted and emo.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

probably ‘mothman is real and he wants to kill me’. i had a lot of fun with it! i also really like ‘*cocks gun* manor’s haunted’ just because i based it off of the haunting of hill house which is like, one of the best books ever.

that was fun!!! thanks again for the tag! <3 i’m tagging whoever wants to do this, and also (no pressure) @quotidian-oblivion

puss å kram, skumbanan!!❤️

[abubblingcandle]

The eating disorder fic!!!!!

Pls 🙏

Of course! This is pretty angsty so I'm sorry in advance and will put it under the cut for tw eating disorder and tw child abuse/neglect

So it is one of my fills for Bad Things Bingo based on the prompt Denied Food as Punishment and it screamed Jamie Tartt to me.

It's a fic surrounding the concept of problems Jamie would have with food after being a child in poverty with an abusive father in a high pressure sports environment. When I started thinking about this prompt and talking it over with some writing buddies it formed into this idea that James Tartt Sr had managed through his actions to embed the idea that Jamie needs to score goals or win to earn food. And he doesn't even realise he's doing it anymore, whenever they lose or he doesn't have a good game his appetite disappears and so he doesn't eat.

He doesn't really notice it while he's at City as when he does play he does well and City are always winning. But when Zava comes ... it all spirals into Jamie collapsing at practice and his weight being well below his weight range. It follows Jamie through the trials and tribulations of basically trying to deprogram his brain and develop a more healthy relationship with food.

A little snippet for your Tuesday!

Jamie flexed and bent the notebook in his hands. The cartoon Earl on the front was taunting him with its joyful smile in the face of his misery. The darkness settled over him, Jamie must have been sat on the floor in front of his fridge for hours. Even the rhythmic beeping reminding him that the fridge was open had died a sad death. It was lucky that he had the money now for the electricity bill because there was no ounce of energy in Jamie’s limbs to spare to close it. Jamie tucked his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on the bony joints as he exhaled. It was fine. He came back to his after the meeting with the physios with all the intentions in the world to open his fridge, pull out one of the nutritionist approved meals, stick it in the microwave, sit at the table, eat it while doom scrolling on his phone. He had succeeded at the first step. And then fallen at the hurdle after that. Who knew that having a meal was so many steps? Jamie didn’t notice until the weighted fog settled over him and he couldn’t move any further.

[rodolfoparras]

I'm honestly not surprised that you like romance and soft stuff and that happy ending is a must. You come across as such gentle and kind soul and so sweet and soft-hearted (I mean it in a good way ofc!) and your presence is so genuinely comforting?? The only other person who has those vibes to me is my best friend so I feel like I'd trust you with my life.

I am such a sucker for angst tho- I like when story rips my heart out and stomps all over it. Yes hurt/comfort but 90% hurt/10% comfort. Someone better be getting kidnapped or tortured or is in danger or someone must be arguing and shit needs to be going down 😭 and I do like hurt/no comfort but not with my favourite characters. If its my babies then we must have happy ending.

(and I know you already responded to anon but I love trope talk and I love discussing this)

-🔮

Sugar you are way too kind with your words thank you so much!!😭 I really appreciate it! Best believe I’d do anything to protect you if you trusted me with your life 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Tbh I think that a big part as to why I love love? Are my parents! They were 18 when they met each other my dad saw my mom in the streets while driving by in a car and he jokingly told his buddies “that will be my future wife” and hours later he ends up meeting her in a bar and they were married for 15+! Years before my mama joined the heavenly palace and ever since then I just love love and I believe we all have soulmates not always romantically but definitely people who are made for you in one way or another!

Also I am 100% on board with the 90% angst 10% comfort for me it’s important there’s a happy ending I know when I’d accidentally come across an angsty fic I’d make up the ending in my head just so I wouldn’t feel upset over it 😭

But I absolutely understand needing action in a fic! I know when enemies to lovers get together I go welp now I’m bored onto the next story bc there isn’t much that happens once ppl get together 😭 but I can definitely read hurt no comfort if it’s not my fav character like u said! That’s usually when I indulge in fics i usually wouldn’t read like cheating death etc

[hella1975]

Hella something incredibly traumatic just happened to me.  I cannot find the original list thingy i have for chapter 42.  (i was like half way through and then stopped i dont remember why) so i have to start over which isnt a bad thing because i get to reread ittt

Your getting 42 and 43 in one thing 

“It had been one day and one night since they left the Western Air Temple and Zuko had a headache.” sme one get this poor boy some tylenol

Bros extremely overstimulated

“Nanook expected they’d arrive at the White Lotus camp-”  i forgot theyre going to the white lotus camp again and if irohs there still thats going to be really fun.  (probably not for zuko though)

I love your sokka so much its insane.  

It always takes me so long to read your chapters and write these and stuff not because of the length of your chapters (i love long chapters) but because i always try to process every single little thing because its so good and a lot of the stuff doesnt even make it into the list because i dont know how to put it into words and thats how i feel about the dynamic youve created around zuko and sokka.  Like how you took Sokkas canon traits and magnified them to accommodate the traits zuko got threw taob perfectly and theres something so artistic about it and i wish i had the words to better explain how in awe of you i am every time i read a new chapter.

Anywho

“If he spoke them, if he let them out, his friends would snatch these birds from the sky and beat them to death, and they would call it salvation.” oh my fucking god hella what the fuck

Zi Se <3

Oh jeez now he’s hallucinating

I love Zi Se.  Having Zuko take care of a small child is such a unique thing to have in a fic and you make it work so well.  Every scene between them is immaculate

The way you portray trauma is incredible.  The ‘two steps forwards one step back’ ness of it, and the way different peoples traumas rub against eachother and the lashing out and guilt and stuff its really so good.  

I think its funny to think about external zuko in taob.  Like a wet dog growling at everyone and pushing itself into a corner.  A little tragic, a little pathetic.  And then in his head he’s having some of the most profound, angsty thoughts.  And the transition between those scenes is also entertaining.  

I also really like the dynamic Zuko has with the entirety of the gang.  Like it’s not just sokka going ‘i can fix him’ and doing it, its a group effort and the different peoples individual traits work well with helping different parts of zuko heal.  When he needs sternness and bluntness, theres sokka, when he needs something more gentle, theres tomnook, and when he needs something in between theres katara.  

I saw your authors notes that was like ‘i’m writing another zukka fic!’ and i was so confused for a moment and i was like ‘wtf is she talking about’ and then it was like ‘you can read it here!’  and i was like ;holy shit its already posted!?  Why didnt she tell tumblr about this and then i was like ‘oh shes talking about tams.’  i forgot it was a zukka fic.  

That took me 3 hours.  

Anywho 

Chapter 43:  : )

“Gradually, things got easier and they fell into a routine.” well thats a relief i hope nothing bad will happen ever again : )

“Suki wasn’t far from him, dipping her water flask into the current,”  of topic but i dont get how people didnt just drop dead from drinking random ass water like how is suki not going to get dysentary.  Sokka needs to invent these people a water filter.

Im carefully treading ocross this chapterbecause of the stuff ive seen from tumblr and discord and while i guess i trust you not to kill tomnook *this chapter* im still very weary and terrified.  

Being american means that you might not be able to afford to read taob bc of the inevitable therapy bill

If i get ptsd from this i quit

Anywho

““Zuko, dude, buddy.” Sokka appeared from where he’d been washing his frankly disgusting tunic, now leaving it to drip around his neck, shirtless as he clapped a hand to Zuko’s shoulder. “If a girl calls you roguish, it’s a compliment.”” Bros projecting

“ this seemed to bother Sokka more than anyone. Hot stuff was one of her favourites, which Zuko thought made sense. He was a firebender, after all. It really didn’t warrant the spluttering and indignance Sokka met it with, stomping over to Suki and kicking water at her while she cackled.” Still projecting

If Tomnook becomes canon i will personally see to starting a movement across all social media platforms similar to the november 6th destiel thing

“He was still smiling. Always smiling. Nanook let him go.” THIS IS THE PART THAT DESTROYED ME????????????????????????????????????? IT WAS ABOUT HAIRR????????????????????/ im actually going to kms oh my god im suing

I experienced so much turmoil for it literally to just be tomkin walking away

Im so insulted

Also nanook definitely has a crush on him just in case you didnt know 👍

Now Kataras overstimulated

“Zuko had taken the carrots.” God dammit Zuko 

If Sokka or Katara find the carrots that wont be good

I dont trust you anymore

““There’s something you’re not telling me,” she said, staring out at the grass around them, the stars in the inky sky. It was the exact same as when they’d sat together the other day, hand in hand, when she’d first admitted to this anger.

Zuko was tense beside her, before sighing in defeat. “This is about the carrots, isn’t it?”  This is so funny for no reason 

““I could probably help you find those men, if you wanted,””  you fucking idiot i cant believe him

“He liked liked Zuko, with his stupid, roguish hair and his muscles and his gentle way of handling Zi Se and his stupid sense of humour and his sheer, stubborn will to keep going. How could Sokka ever talk to Bato again? This was the worst thing to happen ever,”  ITS HAPPENING 

I NEED THAT ONE GIF FROM THE OFFICE JFC

OH MY GOD

I CANT BREATH

The fact that he immediately thought of bato is so iconic i love that for him

The whiplash sokka must feel from coming to terms with his feelings for zuko and that he’s able to grieve his mom and then katara coming out like ‘yeah im going to murder him’ must be insane its like that cat in the hat meme where hes going to hit the dude with the bat

I dont think that conversation went like suki planned for it to

Zukkkaaa fight

THEYRE HUGGIN THIS IS NOTA DRILL OGM

“Katara wouldn’t kill those men.” oh thank fuck

“. local boy discovers the uno reverse card immediately makes it everyone else's problem.”  Lmfao 😂  💀

You have never written a bad anything hella lm tell you.  2 10/10 chapters good job, that was fabulous, i love it.  

Im in a class this semester that deals with analyzing literature and reading a lot of like ‘classic’ books.  And the entire time im reading these books some that are considered to be from some of the best authors of all time is that im comparing them to the things youve written and when ive said that your such a talented writer before, i dont know how much ground ive had to stand on but now that i have like a (very small) reference point for that stuff, holy shit you are such a talented writer.  

Like i know its not your major and that youve never studied it and stuff and the fact that you can produce all of that based on pure talent is honestly incredible.  Im constantly in awe every time i read anything of yours its insane.  I really do hope your as proud as you can be of yourself, you deserve it. 

~list anon~

list anon i get such a little smile on my face when i see ur asks come in like i get comfy and make sure i have time to go through the whole thing in one go and it just warms my heart that someone so consistently makes time for me and my silly stories. thank you x

[little-peril-stories]

🌹Romance Snippets Tag🌹

I was tagged by @starlit-hopes-and-dreams to share some romance snippets from my writing.

I had way too much with this so I'm sorry in advance.

Please enjoy this OPEN TAG :) because I think my friends have already been tagged lol

From The Prince of Thieves

Kisses in the driving snow were not nearly as pleasant as kisses in warmer, cozier scenes, but Jamie found he couldn’t regret it too sorely as Geoff’s warm lips pressed against his. ... Her body is flush against mine, separated only by her woollen dress and my snow-damp coat, layers that may as well be nothing, the way I can feel the heat of her against the heat of me. The way I can feel every beat of her heart.

From the Breanna Hatchett AU

He kissed her again, but did not stop at her lips, rather trailing down her neck, teasing as he went, the stubble along his jaw pricking into her skin and making her shiver.

From the angsty heist wip

What I see of it seems lovely, but she’s already peeking through the now-disorganized pile of papers, leaning right over me to find the one she’s seeking. This close to her, I can see the dusting of freckles on her cheeks and down her neck, the glistening of sweat on her skin, and the fine details of lace around the collar of her dress. For some reason, my heart is racing. ... Her cheeks are so pink, just like the sunset in her poem—like the sky at dusk. Like sprays of light as the sun and its brilliance vanish below the horizon. Becoming. Endearing.

Bonus Ash/Laramie and Fen/Freddie nonsense below but under the cut bc I'm kind of embarrassed by those stories 😅

From The Curiosity Collector

Laramie fought to keep his legs steady, tried to ignore the fiery throbbing of his head. Ash had been fine when he left the previous day. More than fine, really. They’d spent the afternoon in the company of only one another, hours of lying in the sun, staring up at the clouds and treetops. Brushing hair out of each other’s eyes. Running fingers up and down the other’s body. Pressing their lips together in lazy, love-drunk kisses as if they had all the time in the world.

...

“I love you.” Ash repeated the words he had spoken before, words uttered like an incantation. He watched Laramie’s face, tracing every line, every hint of grief behind his eyes. Committing it to memory in all its perfection. “I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will.”

From Fen & Freddie

lol there was nothing cute in F&F except them cuddling at the very end lmao. so have Freddie obsessing about saving Fen

He could die here, Freddie thought, if it meant Fen could live, somehow. If in the grand scheme of the entire universe, the loss of Frederic Howell would balance out to allow Fen Bailey-Song to keep breathing, to keep living— He was okay with that. ... “I’d do it again,” he said, “if it meant it wasn’t you.”

bonus bonus: this July I'll be rewriting my novel affectionately known as "Book 2." Here's a snippet from the first draft (written last summer), taken from a scene that will not make it into the rewrite. [poor buddy's POV got cut entirely]

What was she doing right now? Was she sleeping soundly in her borrowed bed, blissfully unaware of the way she made his blood scream through his veins? Could she know how the very thought of her made him feel as if he were gasping for air? ... Even with the hope that she might accept everything he had to say, even as he clung to its fragile wings like delicate drops of drew clung to blades of grass in the morning sun, he couldn’t dispel his fears—or everything else that had crossed his mind since the night before. In his sleepless stupor, he had allowed himself for the first time to imagine kissing her, and the thought had sent shivers down his spine.

here have a scene that will make it into the new version but who knows what it'll look like

She leaned into another kiss, letting her hands explore some more, one hand cupping the back of K's neck, the other running down her arm. To her surprise, the soldier let B gently push her down, let her hands roam more freely, let her lips and her tongue explore the soft skin of her neck. “You’re not that tough at all, are you?” she whispered. Below her, K laughed. “We’ll see who’s tough.” B nipped at her ear, taking delight in the little startled gasp it elicited. “Is that a promise?” With what seemed like hardly any effort at all, K rolled over, taking B with her so she was on top, staring down right into B' soul with a smile on her face. “Do you want it to be?” “Yes.” B reached up and landed another kiss, soft and full and slow. “Gods, yes.”

[drabbles-mc]

Promise Me

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Whumptober 2022: No.12 What Could Go Wrong?- "Mayday, mayday!”

Warnings: angst, no use of “y/n”

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Soooo this is my first Top Gun fic, and by extension my first Bob fic. I didn’t plan for my first fic for him to be an angsty one but it lined up so nicely with the Whumptober prompt. I picture this fitting into canon so things do work out fine I just don’t go into it in this fic. Anyway! Hope you enjoy and please take it easy on me as I get used to a new fandom/new characters lol

You had been on-edge from the second he told you about the mission. He knew that it was going to be hard to hear, but he also wasn’t going to try and hide things from you either, the downside of that is that he wasn’t going to water things down about his job. So he told you as much as he could. He told you what he could about the mission, he told you how insane the training exercises were going to be.

You knew his job was dangerous, no matter how much his buddies tried to make it seem like he had the dorky end of things. He was still up in those planes just like everybody else. If things went sideways, he was just as much at-risk as anyone else. You knew that. You’d known that from the second you met him all dressed up in his uniform. It was an unavoidable fact. But you could tell from the way that he talked about it that the stakes with this were different.

You’d been walking around with a knot in your gut for days. You had barely seen Bob because of how busy they’d been with training. You understood that, you knew the stakes were impossibly high. But it didn’t do anything to soothe the anxiety you’d been dealing with. It didn’t help that the few times you were able to talk to him, he seemed stressed out and nervous too. He told you about the push-ups, and you could only imagine the toll that was taking on everyone on top of everything else that was happening.

Your bed always felt empty whenever he wasn’t in it. You hadn’t expected to get so wrapped up in someone so fast, but it happened so naturally. If that hadn’t been the case, you wouldn’t have been up tossing and turning so many nights in a row as you worried about him.

Finally, though, you body gave into its own exhaustion. Even though your arm was dangling off the bed, and one leg was kicked out from underneath the blanket, you were still fast asleep. After a few nights in a row of only getting a few hours at a clip, your body was in heaven.

Your mind, however, was not.

Dreams and nightmares had never really been something you had to contend with as you got older. You hardly ever remembered your dreams or your nightmares. Sometimes you would remember them for a couple minutes after you woke, but then they’d be gone and you would just go about your day as usual.

If this was what your other nightmares felt like, you were glad that you never remembered them. It wasn’t even really about you. You were watching it all happen, but you weren’t really part of it. There was nothing you cold do about any of it, and that made it so much worse. You were stuck watching the horrendous scene play out in front of you with no power to stop it. It all looked so real, felt so real. The sound of Bob and Phoenix screaming for help that wouldn’t come rattled to your core.

“Mayday, mayday!” was still ringing in your head as you shot upright.

You were fighting to catch your breath, heart beating harshly against your ribcage. Tears stung at the edges of your eyes as you ran your hands over the top of your head, fingers raking along your scalp. Pulling your legs closer to you, you rested your head against your knees as you tried to talk yourself out of the meltdown that you were on the brink of.

It was just a nightmare. You weren’t a psychic. There was no reason to believe that anything your brain had conjured up was actually going to happen. But there was a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach that you just couldn’t shake. This nightmare wasn’t quickly fading away like all the others had in the past.

You reached over, grabbing your phone from where it was charging on your nightstand. You checked the time, and you knew that for anyone else, it would be an obnoxious time to call. But you also knew that Bob would be waking up to get start training relatively soon. You were tempted to wake him up a little before his alarm just to soothe your own frayed nerves. It was selfish, and you knew that you shouldn’t. You procrastinated by going back and rereading all of the texts that the two of you had been exchanging over the last few days. There weren’t many because of how busy he had been, but he always made a point to reach out and check in.

You looked back up at the time on your phone. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that by now at least his alarm had gone off. He might’ve hit snooze, he might not be out of bed yet, but you weren’t going to be the first thing waking him up. You had that going for you.

Hitting the call button, you brought the phone up to your ear. It rang a few times and you thought you were about to go to voicemail when you heard Bob’s drowsy voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

The relief that went through you just at the sound of his voice had you melting back down into your mattress, no longer pinned back anxiously against your headboard. “Hey.”

He hummed in recognition, letting you know that he clearly hadn’t been paying attention to the name that was flashing on his screen when he answered the phone. He probably figured that whoever was calling at such a ridiculously early hour had a good reason. Suddenly you felt a little silly for calling.

“Everything okay?” He was clearly biting back a yawn as he spoke.

You didn’t want to admit why you called, but you had never been a good liar, either. “Um. Yea. I just…I needed to hear your voice.”

He was still speaking quietly, but he was fully awake now. “What happened?”

The concern that you could hear in his voice made your tears start to reappear. You took a deep breath, shaking your head at yourself. “It’s stupid.”

He let out a tired chuckle. “I doubt that.” He paused, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he repeated his question. “What happened? Talk to me.”

In the entire time that you’d known him, Bob had never said or done anything to make you feel self-conscious. You still found it difficult to tell him the reason behind your early-morning phone-call. He waited patiently. Finally, you just came out with it.

“I had a, uh, a nightmare.”

“Oh?” He hadn’t been expecting that. “About what?”

“Um. Y-you.”

“Me?”

You hesitated, feeling bad for even mentioning it now. “Yea. You…you and Phoenix.”

You could hear the small sigh that he let out. He wasn’t frustrated with you—that’s not what it was about. He just knew how stressed the whole ordeal was making you, and he felt bad. Part of him wished that he could take it back.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, even though he had nothing to be sorry for.

“You don’t have to be,” you felt your bottom lip quivering, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just, you know, I worry.”

“I know. But it’s all gonna be fine. Me and Phoenix, we know what we’re doing, right?” his usual lightness was starting to come back to his voice.

It got a smile out of you. “Yea, you know what you’re doing.”

“I mean, she at least knows what she’s doing. I’m along for the ride.”

The knot in your gut was slowly starting to loosen the more that you talked to him. Something about the ease with which he talked to you, the tiny hint of humor in his voice even at the absurd hour made you feel better. Remnants of the nightmare were still there, but they were at least being balanced out by what you were currently hearing now.

“You’re not half-bad either, so I’ve heard. I’ve got it on good authority that you’re actually pretty good at what you do.”

“Whose authority?”

“Phoenix’s,” you said with a tiny laugh.

“Guess I can’t argue that,” he chuckled. You could picture him rubbing his eyes, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to gear up to start getting ready for the day.

“Promise me you’ll be safe?”

He paused, but he still told you what you needed to hear. “I promise.”

You knew that there was only so much that he could do to ensure that, but even just hearing him say it made you feel better. You let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’m…I’m sorry for calling you so early.”

“I can think of worse ways to start my day.”

You smiled at that, picturing the little smirk on his face. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You chuckled, always getting a kick out of it when he said that to you. “Alright. I’ll let you go.

“How about I give you a call when we wrap up with training today? I can come over for a bit?”

“Yea?” the hope in your voice was palpable.

“Yea.”

“I like the sound of that.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Good. I’ll call you later then.”

“Be safe,” you reminded him one more time.

“Always.”

When you hung up the phone, you felt so much better. You were still nervous—that wasn’t going to change until training and the mission were done and over with. But you felt a little more in control of your own thoughts and feelings just from the quick conversation with him over the phone. You trusted him. You trusted Phoenix. You trusted the two of them to look out for each other to the best of their ability. They were one of the most solid duos that someone could ask for. You tried to find comfort in that.

There was no going back to sleep for you after that, despite the fact that Bob had put you at ease. So instead, you slowly started to go about getting ready for your day, not caring how far ahead of schedule you were going to be. You took your time, replaying all of the things that he had just said to you. You focused on that as much as possible as you got to work and settled in. It was the most reassured that you’d felt about everything since the day he told you what he was getting called in for.

When your phone started buzzing on your desk later that afternoon, you didn’t think too much as you reached for it. Flipping it over to see who was calling, your heart dropped into your stomach when the called ID said it was the hospital. Your hand was trembling as you went to hit the accept button.