#OKAY! THANK YOU TESSA

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It's Not My Fault My Elegy for a Hockey Team Turned Into an Everlark Porno

Sometimes your hockey team loses and it puts you in such a Mood that you start writing and then suddenly you've got the strangest little slice of Everlark smut that has ever been crafted by your own two brain cells.

This is kind of niche, and full disclaimer it has been done with zero research and almost zero thinking and is in more than one way just my own therapy because god fucking dammit Toronto can you please just win one playoff series FOR ONCE PLEASE

but also I love my boys and wish them all the cheering up in the world

So yes, proceed with all this in mind. And uh, enjoy?

~~~ 

Just like that, another season was over. 

Peeta sat in the dressing room, helmet on his knee, eyes fixed on the edge of the blue carpet beneath his skates. He’d been here before—too many times—and knew that facing the summer on the heels of playoff elimination was always tough. But something about tonight’s pain felt different, somehow fresh, raw, and sharp. It didn’t make sense—the Miners had lost in every way imaginable in the past: they’d deflated before teams half as good as they were, they’d lost key players to injury, they’d collapsed under the pressure and made too many bad plays, they’d let bad reffing get to them… they’d done it all. 

But tonight hadn’t been like that. They’d played really well, made a number of excellent plays, and finally managed to keep their penalties to a minimum. In the seventh game of a close series, they’d held the Peacekeeper’s lead to one goal, keeping the threat of a comeback ever-present, looming over their opponents’ heads, dangling before their own eyes. They’d lost for every reason imaginable, but tonight they’d lost for what seemed like no reason, and it was the worst feeling yet. 

Last year, after losing in the first round, Peeta had made the mistake of checking Twitter, where he was greeted by half a dozen would-be sports journalists asserting that in life there were three certainties: death, taxes, and the Miners losing in the first round of the playoffs. He didn’t need to check tonight to see that’s what people were saying again. He couldn’t blame them. It was how he felt now too—devoid of answers, with nowhere helpful to lay the blame except at the feet of some curse that made their failure a cosmic inevitability. They’d only made it to the finals twice since Haymitch Abernathy had been the fresh-faced rookie who unexpectedly led the team to the cup, and that was over thirty years ago. 

Now Abernathy was their bitter and barely-sober head coach, somewhere north of fifty, a former player who’d fallen victim to injury and vice and had never reached his full potential. He was a brilliant coach in spite of all that, or perhaps because of it, and as he stormed into the dressing room, yanking off his tie and rubbing a hand over his jaw, scanning the room with his sharp grey gaze, Peeta was glad that he was also a coach on intimate terms with disappointment. Abernathy met each of their eyes with that unflinching stare, harsh, but clearly also stung by this latest defeat. He felt it too. He’d wanted this as badly as any of them.  

Abernathy just stood there in the corner of the room for a long moment. He had used up all of his pretty mediocre oratory skills during the intermissions, trying to encourage and even threaten them into being the team he knew they could be, the team they had been just a few weeks ago in the regular season, the team who won. 

He had nothing more to say now, but he was the coach, and he had to say something. Peeta knew it wouldn’t be the usual taunts he threw at them during humiliating losses in the regular season; there would be no “well boys, looks like it’s all over now but the crying,” and no barbs about booking tee times for next Saturday, since they were clearly no longer serious about hockey. Grumpy old codger that he was, even he wouldn’t make those jokes tonight.

After all, it was over, and they were crying. 

He started with something about a good effort, and while Peeta did his best to look like he was paying attention, he didn’t catch more than a word or two. He kept his eyes down, focusing on unlacing his skates without ripping them to shreds in frustration and heartbreak.

So close. He yanked on the waxy strings. His eyes felt hot. So fucking close. 

He’d been over the moon ten years ago when it had been the Miners who drafted him. One of many hockey players born and raised in District Twelve, the Miners were the team he’d been cheering for since birth, the team he’d begged to watch even when it was well past his bedtime, the team whose blue-and-white logo was stamped on the flannel pyjamas he couldn’t sleep without. He’d been a Miner at heart long before the draft, donning the vintage Gray Baird jersey his grandparents gifted him for Christmas and imagining he was one of the greats every time he and his brothers stepped onto the ice. Their family often joked about just setting their address to the ODR in the winter, since Peeta and his brothers practically lived there anyway. They used to wake up before school to get ice time in, layering up until they were stuffed like pillows on ice in the sub-zero weather, hollering about which legendary player they were that day. Getting to be a Miner for real seemed like everything Peeta had wanted since he first became capable of wanting anything. 

His desires had grown up as he had, and by the time he joined the lineup he felt that he’d become more reasonable in his hockey ambitions. Still, like most young players joining a struggling team he’d dreamt of being one of the instruments who turned their game around, who started the momentum that wouldn’t let up until the Miners won and he was holding the Stanley Cup in his own hands. He dreamed of being so good the team would have no choice but to get better too. 

And get better it had; the room he sat in now housed the best roster in the last thirty years of Miners hockey, and certainly a far better team than the one Peeta had joined as a rookie. Several trades and new acquisitions had transformed them from a team better known for its passionately loyal fanbase into one of the best in the league. 

It hadn’t been enough. The bad luck that had hounded the team for decades had not gone anywhere, not with trades, not with new coaches and GMs, not even when they’d drafted what might be the best player in franchise history four years ago in Gale Hawthorne. 

Peeta looked up. Rosie, as the boys called him, was sitting in his usual spot several seats to Peeta’s left, silently undressing as Abernathy wrapped up his speech. Like Peeta, he knew that the media room was waiting to hear from him especially, wanting their star to explain exactly why the team had lost yet another elimination game. Rosie had played well all series, though he hadn’t quite managed to put up his usual numbers. He and his line led the Miners in points, with Rosie and Thom having just beaten a franchise record for points between a pair of teammates, and Rosie himself finishing the season with more goals than any other player in the league. They were the stuff playoff dreams were made of, but Peeta knew that the pair hadn’t been as dominant this series as the fans would have hoped. 

Looking at the pair of them, red-eyed and dejectedly picking at their equipment, they knew it too. 

Neither of them had scored tonight, though they’d both gotten assists on Peeta’s goal—the only one of the night. Peeta was going to have to face the music in the media room too, though he knew he would have an easier time of it than Rosie and Thom; it had been a good goal, and as a defenseman no one was even counting on him to score it, not like they were with the forwards.

He realised he was still staring at Rosie when the centreman raised his head and met his gaze. Peeta couldn’t find it in himself to smile, as he would have done after a win, or even a less crushing loss, but gave a small nod, which Rosie returned. They knew what was waiting for them, and they would face it together. Win or lose, they were a team. 

He was glad to have teammates like Rosie and Thom. He was glad for all of them, honestly; they were a great group of lads and there was no one better to be miserable with than them. 

But as if to add insult to injury, as his eyes traversed the rest of the dressing room, Peeta found himself bitterly wondering which of his boys wouldn’t be back next year. This was the end of the line for some of them, it was just a matter of who, and when. 

Morph was a likely candidate, if Peeta was honest. Morph was a fellow defenseman who’d had a pretty shit season, and whose interference penalty had resulted in a no-goal call on a goal which would have tied the score back in the first. Peeta liked the guy, but mistakes like that were hard to shake, and while he and the other players knew that there was a fine line between stating a fact and placing blame, management tended to see things a bit differently. He wouldn’t be surprised to see a new face sitting in Morpho’s spot next season. 

Then there was Foxy, who was practically good as gone, though for very different reasons than Morph. Foxy had had such a good season he’d effectively played himself right off the team, thanks to a salary cap that meant the Miners could no longer afford him. Young and hungry, he’d be a valuable addition to any team looking to plan for the future and lock in some fresh talent. But players like Foxy brought character to the team, and gave it some much-needed depth. Peeta would be sad to see him go. 

Foxy looked maybe a little less sad than the rest of them now, already mostly undressed, green eyes skittering about the room as he stripped for the shower. Maybe he was already thinking about another chance with a new team, maybe he was trying to detach early to avoid feeling the same pain as the rest of them. One thing was certain: he’d do well wherever he found himself come autumn. 

Then there was Finnick, the veteran player they often called Vintage. Another lifelong Miners fan, Fin had been drafted second overall to their rivals, the District Eleven Maize, when Peeta was only seven years old. Peeta could still remember watching the TV in utter devastation as one of his local heroes was sent to “the enemy,” and had been overjoyed nearly twenty years later when Fin had signed on with the Miners. Vintage was a living legend, playing for the team he loved at a huge discount because he was close to retiring and could afford to play for fun if he wanted to. Maybe a chance at the cup had been a bonus, but with another of those chances come and gone, retiring had to be looking pretty good right now. They often joked that the old man still had it, exaggerating their surprise any time he made an especially good play, but the truth was Finnick was still better than many players ten years his junior. He’d earned his position on special teams and on key faceoffs, and with thighs like tree trunks he was frighteningly fast for a thirty-eight-year-old. But Fin also had a wife and four kids who were growing up at breakneck speed. He’d had a great career, had made his mark on the game and was destined for the Hall of Fame; maybe this latest disappointment would convince him that it was time to move on from the league and start the next chapter.

The thought of playing without Finnick only worsened Peeta’s already foul mood. He was a pillar of the team, with experience and wisdom that they all looked to, leaned on, and at times even craved. He’d forgotten more about hockey than most of them ever knew, and while he was fun to tease—whether it be for how often he switched sticks in a game or for how worked up he got when it was three minutes until they hit the ice and JoMas was still practically naked, shooting the shit with Thom and Briz—they knew how lucky they were to have him. The Miners may have had their reliable stars sticking around—Rosie, Thom, JoMas, and fearless leader Mattie Undersee to name a few—and much of the rest of the rest of their roster would be back in the fall as well, but the team would feel off-balance and adrift without Vintage, and Peeta dreaded the possibility. 

Having nearly completed his scan of the room, Peeta turned to his right, locked eyes with Carty, and deflated. It was hard to be in a bad mood any time the goalie was around, and especially when he looked as much like a kicked puppy as he did now. It had taken JoMas all of a week to dub new goalie Dale Cartwright “Mr Right,” an appropriate nickname for the nicest, most selfless, salt-of-the-earth kind of guy anyone could hope to meet. It was a nickname quickly picked up by their fans, who chanted it—no, screamed it at the top of their lungs—every time he made a save. 

Carty had played well tonight, only allowing two goals and earning every roar from the supportive home crowd, but Peeta knew he was his own worst critic. Carty would be beating himself up for the loss, even if objectively there was little he could have done differently. Worse, he’d be thinking back to previous games, to every goal allowed, to getting pulled back in game four, asking himself “what if” until he dug himself a hole it would be hard to climb back out of. 

They couldn’t lose Carty. As far as Peeta knew he wasn’t a trade risk, but they’d sure been having goalie trouble this year, and who knew what the solution to all that would look like? 

But they just couldn’t. Losing Carty would be taking the heart of the team and ripping it right out, it would mean losing the sweetest guy not just on their team but on any team. Not to mention it would start a fucking riot with the fans, who were head over heels for the guy. 

Some players—goalies especially—got nothing but chirps when they went through rough patches, with assholes trolling the comments of their instagram telling them to just quit already and stop bringing the team down. But not Carty. Carty got comments from old ladies saying they were praying he’d feel better soon, and tags from hockey bros saying they knew he’d find his stride again and just to hang in there. Peeta had even heard one announcer say that if anyone didn’t like Dale Cartwright, they were the one with the problem. He’d never seen anything like it, but he couldn’t agree more. Everyone liked Carty. And in a sport where things could get heated, where tempers often boiled over and where anger not infrequently cooled down through your fists, someone so good and level-headed was rare and precious. Especially now, the team needed Carty.  

Peeta finished undressing and stood, his legs aching, heading for the showers. He stopped by Carty’s spot on his way, finally finding the little smile he couldn’t earlier. Carty seemed to perk up a little to see it, offering one of his own in return.

“That was a tidy little goal, Peets,” he said. His voice was warm, though his eyes were glistening. “Perfect spot.”

Peeta smiled a bit more. “Thanks Carty. You’d have had it though.”

Carty ducked his head, like he always did when offered praise, no matter how well-deserved. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m glad it wasn’t me you were up against.”

Peeta almost mentioned that Carty had let in fewer goals in the series than Marvel Quaid, the Peacekeeper’s goalie who had some of the best stats in the league. He didn’t. It felt like a trite consolation, since Carty knew as well as he did that the only stat that mattered in the playoffs was the final score, and they were the ones who were going to be golfing next week. 

“I’m glad it wasn’t you too.”

 One by one the boys headed for the showers, the room quickly filling with steam and the sound of a sniffle or two over the rush of water. No clothes were hidden, no ice water was dumped on anyone’s back, no pranks of any kind were played as they dragged their feet through the post-game routine. It was clear that they were all just going through the motions, just trying to get to the next step, and then the next, and then finally they could go home. 

But first, interviews. As they shuffled out of the dressing room, towards the media hell that awaited them, Peeta took one last look at his boys, examining every face in case this would be the last post-game with them. Rosie, Thom, Mattie, Beets, JoMas, Cheese, Morpho, Cinner, Blight, Briz, Carty. He felt Finnick step up beside him, squeezing his shoulder and smiling at him in a way that forced Peeta to stare up at the ceiling to keep his eyes dry. 

“Fuckin’ thought we finally had it,” JoMas said from Peeta’s other side, shaking his head. “I could fucking taste it, Peets. Like everything was finally coming together.” 

Peeta nodded, wishing he’d worn a hat like Rosie and Thom—it might be nice to be able to cover half his face right about now. “Me too, man.” He sighed, opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it. What was he supposed to do, encourage Joey and Fin? Grin and tell them “there’s always next season” like they could just come back and try again any time they want? Remind them how close they’d come, how hard they’d tried, how high their hopes rose? Should he say that they should be proud of themselves for a good season even if it had a bullshit ending? 

All that hope, and here they were, about to dump bullshit on it before the press and then try to explain why it died. Putting on their Professional Athlete hats and carrying on like they were all fighting the good fight, playing the game as it was meant to be played, acknowledging that the game as it was meant to be played involved losing sometimes. But don’t worry, they didn’t like losing, and they would try even harder next year; they would lose less. They would remember that every loss was one step closer to the next victory, and that winning was what they did. 

Bullshit. Pretending they weren’t just grown-up boys playing a young boy’s game, feeling the heartbreak and anguish of defeat as acutely as they had at ten-years-old. Bullshit. All that hope, all that sweat, every expectation, every injury, the speckling of puck-shaped bruises on the soft insides of their legs and the bony edges of their ankles, their pulled groins and tweaked knees, the hits that knocked the breath out of their bodies and rattled their brains like jello in a goddamn bucket. Every foot of kin tape, every ice bath, every smack on the ass from Briz, every arena-rattling chant of “Mr Right,” their own voices screaming from the bench, Thom’s broken-toothed, mouthguard-dangling grin after he took a high stick to the mouth, every penalty kill, power play, every goal, every celly. Finnick’s dad laugh going on long after the joke, making them all crack up anew in the dressing room. Abernathy’s rare smiles behind the bench when the smell of victory was in the air. Morpho piping up that the smell wasn’t victory but just Blight’s nervous gas. The breakaways, the turnovers, the show-stopping saves and heartbreaking chances. Their three postseason wins, giving them more hope, painting a picture of round two, of the conference finals, of playing for the cup. Of winning it all, like they knew they could, because they were a good team and this is what they’d been working toward for years.

All of it. Bullshit. Not enough. 

Peeta sighed again. He took another step toward the door. I thought we had it. “Me too,” he repeated. What else was there to say? 

~~~

The post-game interviews could have been worse, all things considered. Peeta didn’t usually hate them, and even when they were a bit of a hassle he always tried to give reporters his best because he knew he was a sought-after subject. Plus… well, that’s just who he was. He didn’t like to brush reporters off, didn’t like coming off as the stereotypical inarticulate hockey goon whose brain was just a plate of scrambled eggs and fibreglass splinters, who spoke in sentences that spiralled into meaninglessness and regurgitation because that’s all he was capable of. 

But tonight that’s all he was capable of, and he didn’t even have the energy to be disappointed in himself. He gave his perfunctory answers, avoided snapping or making excuses, and tried not to look at his watch more than once a minute. It was like getting teeth pulled, but at least now he could go home. 

He may have driven a bit quickly on the way back, but he was exhausted. He was sore in every part of his body, and he was sore in someplace inside him, somewhere deep and soft and fragile. He needed to sleep for fourteen hours straight. He needed a cold beer, or a plate of salty french fries, or a hot bath. Or all of the above, at the same time. 

For far from the first time he was glad to live in a little spot off the heart of District Twelve, on a street where the neighbours were quiet and in a house where there was no lobby full of people lingering to watch him crawl back home with his tail tucked between his legs. Maybe they’d want to cheer him up, maybe they’d want to commiserate, maybe they wanted to tell him he should have scored two goals instead of one. Peeta wanted none of it.

He was surprised when he pulled up to see Katniss’s car parked on the street—he’d thought she was out of town until tomorrow morning. The heaviness in his chest lifted a little at the thought of her, probably already in bed, asleep or maybe reading, her hair pulled back in one long braid as it always was when she was home. Her outfit for tomorrow morning’s workout would be in a neat pile on the counter in the bathroom, where she’d get dressed quietly to avoid waking him before heading out for her morning run. The ingredients for Sunday brunch would be in the fridge, on the bottom shelf: eggs and turkey bacon and maybe even waffle batter. The barest trace of a smile had formed on his lips as he unlocked the front door, stepping quietly inside. He really did enjoy their quiet little routines, and the particular shade of domesticity that came from life as a pair of professional athletes. 

Peeta’s surprise doubled at the signs of life that met him in the entryway. She was very much awake, it seemed, loudly listening to that band from her university town that she liked so much, and… baking, by the smell of it. “Katniss?” he called, toeing off his shoes. Was that cake? 

“In the kitchen!” she called back. 

He guessed as much, and followed his nose, picking out vanilla, a hint of orange, and maybe some lemon in the mix? He’d been in the mood for something greasy and salty, but he wasn’t picky, and he could just as easily eat cake in the bath—

He almost slipped on the kitchen floor as he crossed the threshold, and only partly because she’d managed to get flour on the tile all the way across the room. His girlfriend—his beautiful, talented, beyond sexy girlfriend—was in the process of icing a plate of cupcakes, wearing a coy smile, an apron, and nothing else. 

The piping bag hit the counter, and she was across the floor before he’d picked his jaw up off of it. Then she was in his arms, her mouth pressed to his, hungry, sweet—definitely lemon—warm, gentle… the best balm for a bad night. Forget the french fries and the bath and the beer; she was exactly what he needed right now. 

His hands ran over the smooth skin of her back, travelling down to cup her ass, prompting her to hop up and wrap her legs around his waist. Decades of figure skating made it as easy for her to hang off of his body as it would be for most people to stand on their own two feet, and fuck he tried his best to appreciate that particular talent of hers as often as he could but he would never be used to it.

She pulled away, one hand massaging the damp curls on the back of his head, the other brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. She watched him for a long moment, grey eyes silently probing his blue ones. Looking back at her, it dawned on him that she understood. Maybe she could feel it all through his body, maybe the years they had been together had forged between them a connection that transcended the physical, or maybe it was just that she too knew what it was to lose when you knew you had it in you to win. There was a silver medal from 2014 hanging up in a glass case downstairs that proved it: she knew. She understood. 

And like him, Katniss knew when there was something to say, and when there wasn’t. She brought her mouth to his once more, her free hand moving from his shoulders to her apron strings, deftly untying them all while kissing him silly in this disaster zone of a kitchen. 

He walked over to the counter, clearing a space an appropriate distance from the food to set her down, watching as she pulled the apron over her head, tossing it onto a bar stool. He just wanted to get a look at her, wanted to thoughtfully decide where to begin, but then she was landing soft-footed on the tile and looking up at him through her eyelashes and grabbing him by the belt and suddenly he was incapable of making any decisions whatsoever. 

“Peeta,” she said, her voice a low purr. “You know I had a lot of time to think about what I wanted to do to you when you got home.”

She’d never been able to fake sexy, even on the ice—she had to really feel it in order to play that part convincingly. Knowing this just made it so much hotter to see her like this now, knowing this seductive confidence was one hundred percent genuine. 

“What did you think about?” he asked, fighting to keep his hands still at his sides, his whole body alight with the thrill of letting her have her way with him. “What did you decide?”

Katniss smiled, crouching down to unbuckle his belt. “All of it.” The button followed, then the zipper. “And I’m not stopping until we get a noise complaint.” Her hands stilled for a moment, and when she looked up at him, she looked just like her everyday self again, the mesmerising temptress vanished. Temporarily, he hoped. “Except I know you’re tired, and my alarm is still set for six-thirty, so that noise complaint may have to come soon.”

Peeta laughed, wanting to kiss that shy smile off her face as she bent back to her task, tugging at his waistband. “I think we can manage th—ahh!”

She was fucking quick, that minx. All business once more, her eyes narrowed to something feline as she traced her tongue experimentally along the underside of his dick. 

Fuck, he was tired, but it was a tiredness growing so distant it seemed irrelevant. What was tiredness up against Katniss Everdeen, gloriously naked in their kitchen with his cock in her mouth? 

She had him hard in seconds flat, one hand grabbing his ass, the other working his shaft in a way that had his head rolling back on his shoulders and his own hands reaching out blindly for support, fumbling for the counter, turning awkwardly so he could lean against it and let her work. “Fuck,” he gasped. His entire existence seemed to be rapidly narrowing to a single point, to the warmth of her mouth, the softness of her lips, the bite of her short fingernails against the back of his thigh. 

“Katniss,” he moaned, feeling like he was at risk of breaking the granite countertop he was gripping it so hard, struggling to stay in place as his hips twitched, trying to push him forward, seeking more. 

At this rate the noise complaint wouldn’t be the only thing coming soon. 

“Fuck, Katniss,” he released his death grip on the counter, resting one hand on the top of her head. He wouldn’t pull her hair—he didn’t want to hurt her, and at this rate his muscle reactions were not wholly voluntary. If she did that swirl thing with her tongue again he might just—

His moan was half a shout, pulled from the pit of his belly with a force that left him breathless. It was like she could read his fucking mind, and she was not taking it easy on him. “Katniss—”

There was something gooey underneath his hand. Peeta opened his eyes, not realising he’d closed them, and looked down. The remains of a cupcake, which was now a mess of icing and crumbs, covered his hand, squishing up between his fingers. He must have leaned back and put his hand on the counter again, only apparently he’d landed on the cupcake she’d been icing when he came in. 

Katniss straightened, laughing. “Honestly Peets, if you don’t like my baking, you could just say so, you don’t have to squash it.”

He was a little too dumbstruck at hearing his nickname on her lips to respond verbally, and just grinned back like an idiot. Katniss always called him Peeta—it was the boys who’d taken to calling him Peets. Something about the combination of the playful moniker and the sound of her voice was turning him on in a way he really didn’t have time to examine just then; he was rather enraptured by her as she lifted his wrist, took his fingers in her mouth, and sucked the icing right off. 

It was just his fingers—it had been his actual dick two seconds ago—but still it felt so fucking hot, so fucking good it almost sent him over the edge. He really shouldn’t be this close, but goddamn—

That mischievous look was back as Katniss pulled his fingers out with a pop. She kept her eyes locked on his as she reached for the plate of cupcakes, not breaking eye contact as she took one, crouched back down, and smeared the top across his cock, leaving a thick trail of icing in its wake. 

Had he died? Had he taken a hit from one of the Peacekeepers that had knocked him clean into the afterlife? Who was this woman and what could he have possibly done to deserve her?

Katniss closed her eyes, finally breaking the spell that had struck him still as a statue, and took him once more in her mouth. Peeta shuddered, fighting to keep control as she sucked him clean, her tongue almost scraping his skin as she slowly and with painstaking thoroughness licked off every mote of icing. 

It was going to be too much, he could feel that tightness forming, that tug in his belly that he could try to resist but wouldn’t, not when any sort of thought had abandoned him and the edge of ecstasy was right there. Not when she was coaxing him toward it like a siren to a doomed sailor, relentless, almost demanding.  

“Katniss,” he warned, almost whimpering when she didn’t stop. “I’m almost… Katniss I’m there.” 

She didn’t pull back, but doubled down, one hand scratching gently at his stomach as the other dug into his backside, her mouth wrapped around him as he stuttered and came. 

His knees nearly buckled, and he might have been able to blame it on tiredness from the game but right then he couldn’t even have said what sport he played. Katniss’s grip supported him for the split second he needed to find his balance again, the counter unhelpfully slippery under his sweaty palms. 

“Holy shit, Katniss,” he said, catching his breath, wiping his hair out of his eyes. “Holy shit.”

He looked down when he felt a small hand on each side of his face, meeting the tender eyes of the love of his life and feeling like he was going to lose his balance again. She rose on tiptoe to kiss him, and his brain might not have been working and he might still not have breath in his body, but muscle memory brought him down to meet her. It didn’t matter the circumstances, he could never get enough. 

This kiss was hopelessly soft, almost chaste in spite of what had just happened, and Peeta felt himself melting into her arms. Suddenly his head was on her shoulder, his face buried in her neck, his arms encircling her small, warm body, finding comfort in her that he couldn’t put into words. Maybe he was just a little boy who’d lost a game. Maybe he was a man beaten down by failure. But she knew. And gods above, she was just what he needed. 

“Peeta,” she said quietly. “I love you so much.”

He squeezed her tight. “I love you too.” He pulled back reluctantly; his heart felt a bit raw again, but his brain had finally rebooted and it was beginning to come up with an idea. He ducked to grab her behind her knees, hoisting her up, bringing her back to that spot of clean counter they’d abandoned earlier. He set her down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he leaned close. “So. How’d I do?”

Whatever she expected him to say, it wasn’t that. She frowned, confused. “How’d you do? What—in the game?”

He frowned back, trying to look equally puzzled. “Was there a game tonight?” She started. “I meant just now.” He grinned as she rolled her eyes. “Do you think I got us our noise complaint?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I doubt it. These walls are pretty thick, and you weren’t as loud as I know you can be.” She thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t think I heard you say ‘Katniss’ half as loud as I’ve heard you shout ‘Mr Right’...” 

He laughed, kissing the tip of her nose. “Well you’ve always been the loud one,” he quipped. Katniss scoffed. They both knew that wasn’t true. 

Or at least they knew it wasn’t true in most situations. But there were some, if you knew just what to do… 

He dropped to one knee, shuffling her closer to the edge of the counter. He didn’t break eye contact either as he rested his cheek on the inside of her thigh, winking up at her. “I’m sure we can get that noise complaint yet.” 

#this one's for my boys #particularly to Soupy and Spezz and Aussie and Mo #thank you Soupy for being maybe the best person ever I hope you have had lots of Red Lobster #thank you to Spezz for your thighs and for helping me help Finnick O'Dair realise his full DILF potential #thank you to Aussie for making me realise Gale Hawthorne absolutely DESERVES to have that dirty dirty mustache #and finally #thank you to Mo #(and to Tessa Virtue) #for being a VERY convenient candidate for Peeta Mellark #please understand that allowing you to be Peeta for this one hot minute is the greatest honour of which I am capable of bestowing #besides of course the honour of saying you're maybe the only man besides Scott Moir who I would allow to date Tessa Virtue #Okay I'm done now this has been a strange production but somehow a very on-brand way for me to welcome myself back to Tumblr #The Hunger Games #The Hunger Games fic #a fic... of mine??? #Everlark #Everlark fic #should I tag all the gender bending that went on here? Maybe. But no

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sanctuary

words: 900

warnings: scary movie, small mention of sex (actually to say nothing sexual lol), first kiss <3, soft!rafe

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you curse quietly, trying to find some way to get out of the situation. “how about the hunger games?” you interject into the conversation, kelces new girlfriend tessa shaking her head no.

“if we watch one, then we'd have to watch catching fire, then…” she trails off. “i think we all agree on hereditary.”

you simply swallow hard. you don't want to admit how much you truly hate horror movies, especially when the room is filled with your friends and their boyfriends.

you take a seat on the couch, schooching yourself as far away as possible. maybe you'll fake being asleep to get out of having to watch the scenes unfold.

you pretend to be very interested in the thread on your pants as the opening credits begin, blinking up when the spot on the cushion next to you is taken.

rafe gives you a soft smile. out of everyone in the room, he's the one you know the least, despite the movie night taking place in tanneyhill. he's friends with all your friends, but you've never made a point to hang out with him, mostly due to the crush practically every girl has on him, his charm and good looks not making you immune either.

“hey.” you say softly, smiling at him, noting that there's various other seats open, but rafe chose next to you.

“are you sleeping over?” rafe asks. a majority of the group planned to disperse among the many tanneyhill bedrooms, as the following day rafe is throwing a party, with the rest of his family being out of town, theres no reason not to take up residence inside on of the mansions many rooms.

“um, if there's an open bed.” you shrug. you drove yourself so you had the choice to go home at any moment, just in case you needed to back out.

“ill make sure there is one for you.” rafe whispers as the movie starts. you nod and give him an appreciative smile as his eyes turn towards the screen.

the opening of the movie is slow, building up to the scarier parts. you pull your knees in to your chest, trying to watch out of only one eye as the scenes get creepier and creepier.

you jump at the first scare, along with some other people but your reaction gets noticed by rafe, who places a hand on your shoulder. it almost makes you jump as much as the movie does.

“you okay?” he asks, moving closer to you.

“not a big scary movie fan.” you admit, looking rafe in the eye to avoid looking at the screen.

“oh.” rafe smiles slightly, hand going from your shoulder to wrap around you, pulling you into him in an unexpected move.

“you're not gonna make fun of me?” you question, the words slipping from your tongue before you can think out of sheer surprise.

“of course not.” rafe says, hand squeezing gently, comfortingly. “just… hide against me for the scary scenes.”

you manage to make it through the movie ducking your head against rafe, pressing your squeezed shut eyes into his chest, eventually relaxing into his grip, cuddled together on the couch as the movie finishes. his presence next to you keeps you from freaking out at the scary scenes, his strong arms never wavering from their place wrapped around you, even when popcorn is brought out and drinks are passed around. 

“thank god.” you mumble when the lights get switched back on. rafe chuckles lightly, pulling you closer once more before letting you sit up with a stretch.

the couples rush quickly to their rooms, leaving a few stragglers to pick off the remaining bedrooms.

“i might just go home, rafe…” you look around tanneyhill, it's mostly dark, a majority of the lights shut off, giving the historic house a scary feel.

“ill drive you home if you want to, but if you don't want to sleep alone, my bed is open.” he says it so casually you're worried you misheard him.

“huh?” 

“nothing sexual.” he shakes his head. “just sharing a bed. ill even keep a nightlight on for you.”

“really?” you giggle. you only want to go home so you don't have to be in total darkness.

“yeah.” rafe places a hand on your upper back, guiding you towards his room. there's already a light on, but he clicks an extra lamp on, illuminating the room even further.

“thanks.” you mumble. “for during the movie and for this.”

“it's my pleasure.” rafe smiles, climbing into bed, everyone having changed into their pajamas before the movie. he flips the covers back, gesturing for you to slide under them.

you keep yourself towards the edge of the bed, not wanting to invade rafes space when he's already done so much for you.

“oh come on, get over here.” rafe opens his arms up, and you smile, shuffling over to place your head on his chest, legs tangling together. the steady beat of his heart relaxes your own as you place a hand on his torso, holding back your gasp when you realize how prominently you can feel his muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

rafe kisses the top of your head. it's sweet, so different from what you're used from him. you pick your head up to look into his blue eyes.

“thank you.”

rafe leans down, pressing your lips together in a soft kiss. “i mean what i said.” rafe gives them another peck. “nothing sexual tonight. but if after the party when you've had some time to think about it…”

you nod enthusiastically, a smile on both of your faces. “im sure ill find myself in your bed tomorrow night as well.”

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[fictionalgap]

Roommate: Too sick (chapter 1)

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x Reader

Summary: Hazel, you, PJ and Josie got accepted in the same college and were living together. You didn't know that Hazel was such a mother hen till you became roommates. You tried not to get too flustered while she took care of you.

Warning: 18+ Themes

Warning: Swearing. Mentions of vibrators and alcohol. This fic most likely contain smut scenes in later chapters.

Other Chapters: Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5

Song Recommendation: Crush - Tessa Violet

PJ, Josie, Hazel and you all wanted to go to same college and accepted which you all were super excited about. It has been months since you share the same place. Four rooms, living room and kitchen are combined and two bathrooms. Of course only one has a shower. But still thank god It's two bathrooms.

It has been a real experience living with them for you.

It's usually Josie and you who cooks. PJ and Hazel were officially banned from the kitchen. Well, not the fridge. But you know, the stove…

It was decided by Josie and you when Hazel and PJ tried to make Hazel's grandmother's recipe. They were alone at home when it happened. PJ wanted to help Hazel to cook, for the first time in forever and it did not end well. You were the first one who found out this incident. You were going to a friend's to study but you realized you forgot your phone at your guys place so you went back and saw the the huge ass smoke and firefighters and a frantic Hazel and PJ on the street.

Sundays were cleaning days. Everyone cleaned their own room, except PJ. Her room was the messiest and most dust producing room which made the whole place worse. All of you argued with her regularly about this but she swore that she cleaned it regularly.

One time she took Hazel's shirt to wear it for a date which she never asked Hazel If she could take it and of course PJ being PJ, forgot to give her shirt back.

"Ugh, I couldn't find it, okay. Just look into my room."

"What do you mean look into your room? If I go there, I don't know If I will be able to come back! Have you seen your room?"

"It's literally a black hole that is disguised as a pile of stuff." You stated with a smirk.

"It's a PJ hol-" Josie was about to smugly say,

"Okay! That's enough! I got it, okay!" until PJ interrupted Josie.

You told Hazel you would help her looking for her shirt which was an encouragement for her cause God knows, It takes lots of courage to go in that room.

You and Hazel started to look for the shirt in PJ's room.

"Oh…Oh my god! OH MY GOD!" Hazel shouted. Hazel put her hands onto her head and moved backwards with worried eyes.

"What? You found i-, Oh my god! What is this!" Hazel gagged as she sat down on the floor and you looked at the thing for a while, not believing what you see.

You snorted and laughed hysterically. "Josie! Josie, come here!" You screamed and held your stomach as Hazel groaned as she was in pain.

"What? Guys, why are you-, Hazel are you okay?" Josie kneeled down next to Hazel.

"I wish I never came here." Hazel's bottom lip quiverred as her eyes got teary. She layed on the floor in fetal position, color drenched out her skin.

Josie left Hazel's side to see what you were trying to show her and she saw the 'thing' and froze in her place like three minutes then PJ came into the room.

The 'thing' was a vibrator. A baby blue vibrator with a silicone layer which was covered a mild green to a dark green mold. Plus tiny flies were on it. You didn't know how many.

"What's this all fuss about, huh? My room's messy I got i-. Hey, I was looking for this… I guess I have to get a new one." she sighed and got out of the room with a moldy vibrator.

"You guess?" you aand Hazel shouted at the same time.

We all got out of her room. Hazel recovered from this incident once she calmed down. As for Josie, we all knew she would never be the same after this incident. Except PJ, who thinks vibrators getting moldy is only natural so she didin't understand the trauma she caused.

Hazel never found her shirt as PJ never cleaned her room. You thought she wouldn't want it back anyways.

You would still laugh whenever you remembered this.

College was never really boring with your roommates. You thought your friends at college were cool but your roommates were TRULY one in a million.

For you, Hazel was one of a kind.

You knew you needed to wear something more suitable for autumn but you didn't want to look like a buritto, going to the parties. It had a cost.

You coughed and it sounded like as If you were an animal who's in pain and about to die. You sneezed into the poor napkin as you layed down on your bed. 'How It was possible to be tired while you were laying down all day?' you thought as you sneezed again. You got up and opened the window. It was cold but you needed fresh air too.

You were upset that you missed your classes. You mailed your professors and they let you know It's okay. You would take your notes from your friends anyway.

You thought of last night. PJ interrupted Hazel's studying last evening, again. You were glad that you studied at library earlier. It was quiet and PJ-free. You liked your friend but she usually would convince you all to watch a movie, play a board game or go to a party. Or she would simply talk to you not caring If you listen or not.

Flashback

"Come on! Barry is giving a huge ass party. There is booze, there are girls, there are-"

"PJ, you are with Brittany. You remember, right? " Josie interrupted.

"Yeah…but no one says you can't look. I am not gonna eat them. I'll just… observe them. Just a small feast for my eyes since she decided to went to a college far away." PJ crossed her arms with a frown.

"You can always video chat with her." Hazel pouted.

"It's not the same thing, Hazel!" PJ yelled, frustrated.

"Yeah but what would she feel If one of us accidentally told her what you have said about party and girls and observing them…" you said with a playful smirk.

PJ raised her brows. "I'd probably beat the shit out of you."

"Ugh, that's harsh." you scoffed.

"Anyways, we should get ready. Move your asses, now!" PJ said as she walked to her room to get ready for the party.

"Are you going, Y/N?" she looked at you with puppy eyes.

"Yeah… I would try to convince you to come but I don't want to interrupt your studying." you said with sad eyes.

Hazel played with her rings. " I had swimming practice. If I wouldn't, I could study with you earlier."

"Study with me?" You raised brow. How did she knew you studied? Did she saw you?

"Yeah…library is on the way to pool so… a-and you always study on the same corner next to window." She played with her rings nervously.

'She saw me all the times...' you gulped to the thought. You looked at her hands, not being able to face her. She was playing with her rings nervously until she catched you watching them. Three, maybe four seconds passed when you realized she saw that you were looking at her hands. It could be just because you liked her rings.

In a totally straight way, obviously.

You averted your gaze and got up from your seat. "I didn't realize you saw me." you chuckled nervously.

"Yeah…I never told you and you look very focused during studying so…" she nodded her head to herself.

"Hm…we can always study another time If you'd like… Well, not here though, cause-"

"PJ?" she smiled widely.

"Yeah." You answered her smile with yours.

"I am going to change now. Have a good study session." you said and walked to your room to change your clothes.

You walked to your room and after spending five minutes in front of your wardrobe, you wore a white crop top, black baggy jeans, black converse and a black denim jacket. You left your hair down.

"Nice…" PJ said with a smirk.

"Thanks. You too." You checked her clothes.

"Isn't that a little bit thin though? You might get cold." Hazel said pointing your crop top. You blushed at what she said.

She was changed her clothes as well.

Josie pointed at Hazel. "Are you coming?"

"Yep."

PJ smirked coyly." That's the spirit!"

"Weren't you going to study?" you raised a brow.

"I'll study tomorrow. I'm not gonna drink much tonight, anyways." she said, looking at your clothes. "Really, Y/N, you'll get sick. "

"It's fine… We have a ride." you sighed.

"Even I don't worry that much for my girlfriend, Hazel." PJ wiggled her brows playfully with a smirk.

You couldn't help but blushed at what PJ said. You saw Hazel was looking down at her shoes and Josie was smiling at both of you.

Josie's smile ended with her phone ring. "Our ride is here. Let's go."

End of the flashback

You didn't know If this was cold or flu but Hazel was right.

You got sick and everything hurt. Moving hurt. Your head hurt. Your eyes felt like they were pierced. Your ears hurt. You could hardly breathe. Whatever this was, It was draining the shit out of you. You hated that you were wrong but you loved that Hazel was all around you. You also felt guilty about it cause she was interrupting her studying by checking up on you, getting you water, food, making you herbal teas every half an hour…

The thing about Hazel, she turns into a mother hen whenever someone gets sick. Especially when you were sick. You thought it was because you were closer with her than PJ and Josie.

You still rememeber the first week of moving here, you had a migraine attack. She went to the pharmacy without anyone noticing and came back with painkillers and a migraine stick.

And she massaged your temple till you fell aslept. You didn't know If you imagined something touching on your forehead. Preferably her lips. But you thought It was probably a fantasy of yours or a dream.

Of course, you were very pleased with her taking care of you. So you didn't mind getting sick. Maybe even It led you to wear thinner clothes. Not on purpose though.

Subconsciously.

You didn't really wanted to admit it but the idea of someone taking care of you, turned you on a little bit.

The idea of Hazel taking care of you, burned and twisted the parts of you, which you never knew that existed because you had a slight crush on her.

Just a tiny one…

Hazel knocked the door three times.

"Come in." your voice came out shaky.

Hazel came into your room with a smile.

"Hazel you don't have to check up on me every hour." you coughed as you said.

Hazel grabbed a chair with her one hand and placed it next your bed with a smile. She became more musclar and the veins on her arms looked like they were going to pop since she decided to join the college's swimming team. You were very enthusiastic about her decision.

She had a bowl in her hand. You looked up to her and saw her pouting.

"I'm so close thinking you don't want me here, Y/N."

'Well, fuck me!' you cursed to yourself for making her think that. You didn't think she was joking.

"Of course I want you here, Haze. It's just you couldn't study last night and now you can't study because of me." you explained quickly.

She grinned. "I know you do. And I am studying very well and I need breaks too, you know."

She usually took things at face value so It made you shocked to see her saying something without meaning it.

"Well you said it seriously so I thought-"

"I was joking." She took the strand of hair which was front of your nose and placed it behind your ear.

She beamed at you for a half a minute. You felt your heart beating very fast.

"Yeah… What's that?" you pointed to the bowl in her hand.

You noticed a spoon in Hazel's hand and the bowl was smelling really good.

"Chicken soup. I squeezed some lemon in it too."

Your eyes widen at what she has just said.

"No, no, no! I didn't make it! I ordered it. Don't worry. I made a promise to you and Josie and I remember." Her eyes widened as well.

You chuckled. "Okay. Cool. Uhm,… thank you Hazel." You sit up staright in your bed and you were going to took the bowl from Hazel's hand but she didn't give it to you.

"Ugh…?" You have her a confusing look.

"Let me feed you, please. " She made a puppy face.

"Y-you don't have to." you stuttered. Honestly, even your arms hurt when you moved them. And you would definitely not mind her feeding you. It was just you were afraid to make a fool of yourself.

"You seem really tired. Come on. " She pouted again.

"Ugh…okay but stop making that face." you said you averted your gaze.

"What face?" she grinned. Maybe she actually knew what she was doing.

"You know what you're doing, don't you?" She ignored your question and sighed as she blew the soup little to make it colder.

"Open up." she smiled as she held the spoon full of soup to you.

You drinked the soup and It was delicious. You would drink whatever she gave anyway.

"Thank you Hazel. Soup felt really good." you smiled gratefully to her. Your cheeks burned but It was okay that your cheeks were pink because you were sick so she wouldn't think it that way.

"Of course. Least I can do." She smiled at you for a moment as you held eye contact with her. "Oh, I forgot the vitamin!" she said as she got up and left your room.

"What? You ordered vitamin too?" you yelled for her to hear you from the other room.

She came back with a vitamin c supplement in her hand.

"No, I went to the pharmacy."

"Hazel you spent too much time. You go study now!" You scolded her.

"Okay, okay! And It was a ten minute walk. It's not much. Plus walking in fresh air is a good break time."

"Here." She held the vitamin your lips and you felt bold and took it with your lips while keeping eye contact with her.

It was awkward.

In a sexy way.

Her body froze except her eyelids, they blinked a couple of times until she gave you a glass of water to swallow the pill.

She cleared her throat. "So, I'll go study now. If there is anything you need-"

"I'll tell you. I know."

"Okay." she said as she rushed out of the room.

'Fuck.' you told yourself and laid down on your back as you wait for sleep.

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan #bottoms movie #bottoms hazel #bottoms 2023 #lgbtq #sapphic

[jazzyblusnowflake]

OKAY SO

since yall wanted me to talk more about this Demon!Uzi and Hunter/Exorcist!N,V,J au I'm just gonna write down my ideas here just to get them out of my head-

thanks to @purrple-bat for helping with some of the ideas :D

some details may be nsfw cuz i mentioned it previously so that's your content warning🔞

also there may be plot holes and its not fully complete or whatever im just trying to get this out of my head 😭 main ship is NUziV // ViolentBitingBiscuits

the Au is an urban setting- not a forest and fantasy dnd kinda thing-

Tessa is the leader of several groups of teams that are demon hunters and exorcists.

J, V and N are in the same team and those are their codenames.

Uzi is a halfie, with Khan as the human parent and Nori as the demon parent. they are referred to as "Changelings" too.

Uzi cannot be exorcised from her demon side or she will become a mindless unresponsive zombie. methods have still not been found on how to exorcise these demons and disabling their powers without killing them, mostly due to the lack of anyone caring.

Demons feed on different things related to humans, mostly their emotions, with a heavy preference on fear, pain, anguish and etc

some more bolder demons will kill or drink blood of humans but even in the demons society that's a taboo and if any leads are traced back to you being a demon, you will be eliminated by your own kind before the humans can get to you.

Uzi was caught by accident, fully blended in as a human.

She's cheeky and likes making humans miserable and playing around with them, but she's not really one of the threatening ones, she doesn't want to or care about hurting them.

Doll is a full demon and is kinda like a sister figure to Uzi, always advising her to get away from humans and she might end up getting hurt or some shit.

Nori has multiple lovers, she feeds off the love and lust but she considers it a just a treat, she's actually one of the most powerful demons around and absolutely loves feeding off of nightmares, trauma, horror and dread. she does have a soft spot for khan tho as her only human lover. khan is generally just dumb for loving a demon as his wife. smh

Nori is a high ranked demon meaning she could share her energy with other demons if any of them would want to pass as normal humans and just live in society. also could send out demons to capture or punish one of their own for breaking rules.

Uzi starts out weak but upon capture, bluffs a lot about how powerful she is and that she likes to play around with them.

They keep Uzi to get information out of her about other demons.

On attempts at getting away she does end up getting closer to N.

Uzi likes feeding on misery and angst but the genuineness of Ns affections made her thirsty for more.

She ends up also getting closer to V from bantering and sometimes talking about stuff and etc and sometimes sparring and fights when she attempts to escape. N saves V at one point before Uzi did some real damage. V grew to actually respect her more after that.

Uzi was let go after a while since they checked and she wasn't really at a power level to threat anyone [much to Uzi's resentment that she could be powerful if she wanted to >:( ]

Hunters and exorcists have magical seals hacked into their bodies for protection. their arms have these symbols that can be used as weapons that appear in translucent shapes like claws and shields and swords. 5 pair of vertical eyes appear above their heads and a glowing X marks their face when they are using their powers- marking that the demon cannot get into their heads. their eyes glow gold once using their powers despite the original color of their eyes.

the same kind of powers and seals appear on demons but they don't hack it into their bodies, they gain it with ranks. demons have human forms and demon forms, changelings are just weaker from the beginning. unless they are possessed...

V and N start giving Uzi "treats" whenever she helps them out in catching more dangerous demons. this ranges from kisses, bites, their blood toooooo more intimate stuff :3 at first this starts out as an idea to get her to talk but after a while V couldn't help but to feel affection towards this pint sized little gremlin.

Uzi gets overwhelmed when she is showered with affection by being in the middle of V and N, she is touch and affection starved and she gets easily addicted to it, wanting to claim the two as her own.

V and N putting seals on Uzi that makes her enjoy their touches and intimacy more but edging her and keeping her from releasing until she gives them the info they need. Uzi probably would tell them the info anyway- she just likes to see how far she could handle the two before she breaks into a begging, pleading mess.

Uzi purrs and does everything in her power to keep anyone from finding out...

Drinking demon blood makes Hunters gain more power, and drinking human blood makes demons feel pleasure and ecstasy as well as gaining more power, especially if the human is a hunter/magic user.

Uzis wings are sensitive and she likes to clean them with a wet cloth. N and V like to help her with this. and her tail mouth too lol.

The demons have a hellish demon sect that even they all fear... i think you can guess who the head of it is...

Aaaaand i think thats all for now idk. bye- //exploads

#snowballflo #murder drones #nuzi #vuzi #nuziv #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v #serial designation j #tessa james elliot #nori doorman #khan doorman #murder drones doll #md doll #doll md #doll murder drones #envuzi #biscuitbites #violetviolence #violentbitingbiscuits #enzi

[eveledoze]

spoilers for ep7 ! things about N and Uzi i wanted to point out 1/? I may sound stupid and naive going into all these details, so I'm sorry

we all thought that he was looking at Uzi worriedly, but in reality he was shocked because the elevator was broken and because now the path to V was blocked. he's really worried and angry about it (and it's so unusual to see him like that)

Tessa tells him to look back and at first he looks angry, but then his face softens. for a moment he simply forgot what state Uzi was in cuz he was worried about V (we know that now this Tessa is not exactly Tessa, but I will call her that cuz it’s convenient for me and so as not to get confused)

Uzi realizes that she has poor control over her powers and bitterly admits that she cannot do anything. she sincerely apologizes and you can hear that she feels guilty from her helplessness + exhausted from pain this short moment honestly killed me- their voice intonations, words and music, it hits so hard (thank you AJ Dispirito! /mega pos) also i find it strange that at first there was no blood, then it appeared cuz of something (even though she doesn’t even have a crack in her visor like Doll) and then the blood disappeared

but well okay-

he sincerely apologizes, feeling guilty for his inattention to her well-being, and he comes to comfort her, his body language shows this but Tessa interrupts them

Tessa calls him to explain to Uzi what's going on (lmao his face)

he rubs his hands together, which indicates his nervousness, as he realizes that his words will make her more worried and terrified of what they might find out and see, so this will make the situation worse

you can hear from the tone of Uzi's voice that she is beginning to suspect that they know more than she does, and for some reason they are not telling her this. she seems annoyed at the withholding of information, causing her to lose trust in Tessa and N

he looks at Tessa as if doubting whether he can be frank in his words, since in essence Tessa is still his boss and he should not contradict her (why does the reflection of his eyes in her spacesuit look funny to me lol)

he says this in a determined voice, while frowning. the words “we're not gonna hurt you” are addressed to Uzi while N’s gaze and gestures are interpreted as “WE'RE not gonna hurt HER” (while pointing his hand at Uzi) and this is addressing to Tessa. he clearly expresses his position and does not intend to obey Tessa in this in fact (he is rebelling)

with this "Okay?" he tries to reassure Uzi that they really won't hurt her honestly, the tone of voice with which he said it reminded me a lot of the way he said "we'll ask Tessa, okay?" in ep5, when he addressed Cyn. in both cases, his "Okay?" sounds sincere, kind, letting them know that he will keep his promise

she is scared and barely audibly says it, losing more trust in them while the fear grows

Uzi is nervous, she loses control and creates a null, everyone moves back, by the way Tessa takes out her sword

they repel each other. despite the falling stones, N reaches out to take her hand and pull her towards him

he takes a step forward, "we'll figure this out, together?.." but she steps back, losing trust in him

stones fall and block the passage, separating them from each other she closes herself off from him in every sense

when he woke up, he immediately called her and it sounded quite desperate and creepy cuz of the echo

N sees that his hand is crushed by stones. with a cold look, he takes out the blade and approache it to the hand, saying that he "deserved this", since he offended Uzi and believes that it would be right if he was punished for it. she experienced pain - he will experience pain, justice

#NUZI ANGST GOD DAMMIT #murder drones #murder drones ep 7 #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuit bites #evele stuff #my kooky rambling

[gardens-light]

Undercover

In order to find something worthy of blackmailing not just the K.S.I but also the government. All agreed on a simple plan. Divide and conquer. Knowing the next moment's were critical, as it was going to test the bonds of loyalty and trust... Yet, in the midst of chaos and serious planning. Bumblebee and Drift decided do a side mission of their own- involving you and Optimus...

Content: Course language. Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Major spoilers in this and in upcoming chapters.) Heaps of fluff. Optimus Prime x Human F/Reader.

Word count- 5k (roughly)

Sparkmate Series- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"We're back!" Tessa's voice echoed throughout the main hall of the empty cathedral.

Bumblebee gave a little wave, while your attention didn't move from his thigh. Focusing on adjusting a couple of bolts, that the yellow scout has been complaining about for the past couple days.

"Hey." Cade greeted from the makeshift table. "I found a whole bunch of boxes of clothes. So Tessa, sweetie. You can find some long pants. Nice loose-fitting ones, and lose the short-shorts, okay? What you guys get?"

Tessa and Shane emptied their backpacks onto the table. Various fruits, long life items and random tools spilled in front of Cade.

"It's protein." Tessa simply said, placing the container in front of him.

"Look, I said the essentials, okay?"

"It wasn't easy." Tessa sighed, "we almost got caught."

Cade raised an eyebrow, as Shane placed a bottle of mouthwash onto the table. "You stole mouthwash?"

"I like to be fresh, when I'm making out with your daughter." Shane spoke with a smug smile.

Tessa chuckled, while you and Bumblebee looked away. Trying to hide your cheeky smiles, as the pair of you giggled under your breathes.

Cade's brows knitted together, reaching out for the bottle and throwing it across the table. "Yeah that's not happening. Ever!"

Tessa and Shane gave each other awkward smiles.

"A little bit late for that." Your teasing tone whispered to Bumblebee.

---

Walking into the main hall of the cathedral with laptop in hand. The sound of small giggles caught your attention, your movements coming to a halt as your eyes looked away from the screen. Your soft gaze falling onto Tessa and Shane whom cuddled in their little ‘love nest’ corner. Her head resting against Shane’s chest as they sprawled out on the couch, the gentle glow of the dusk sunlight bathing them in a soft colourful glow, as it streamed through the stained-glass window. Numerous candles surrounding them setting the scene just right.  

A small smile tugged the corners of your lips, I’m glad they’ve found some calm before the storm.   

“Ah-hem. Excuse me.” Cade’s voice echoed throughout the hall, “there’ll be no smooching in front of me. Thank you.” 

Speaking of storms... 

The couple broke apart, feeling Cade’s disapproval stare upon them. 

“You’re so old, Dad.” Tessa complained, “who even saids ‘smooching’ anyway?” 

A small prickle of envy crawled in your chest, as you hugged the laptop. Lowering your head a little, attempting to hide your suttle frown.  

“It can be so difficult sometimes.” Cade sighed, while drinking a protein shake. His annoyed stare looking  up at Optimus, “I’m telling ya. No respect these days.” 

Optimus nodded folding his arms across his chest, “I went through something similar with Bumblebee.” 

The small prickle of envy snipped your yearning heart, like a flower's thorn upon your skin. Bringing the laptop a little closer to your face, as your cheeks grew a little warm. As the ‘almost kiss’ between you and Optimus replayed in your thoughts.   

“Afternoon, Y/N” the sound of Crosshairs' voice caused you to jump a little.  

“Cr-Crosshairs? Sorry, you startled me.” 

“Really?” you felt his green optics study you. “Something on your mind?” 

“Just... running through the plans.” You spoke with a fake smile, “making sure everyone knows the drill, and what not.” 

You raised an eyebrow as Crosshairs briefly turned to Drift. Glancing over his shoulder at the blue Autobot, whom gestured in your direction, then to a set of stone stairs.  

“Is everything alright, Crosshairs?” your puzzled tone caught his attention.  

“Yea. Yea.” he assured with a teasing smile, “just remembered that the Big Boss wants to see you.” 

You tilted your head a little. Pressing the laptop harder against your chest, as your heart skipped a little. 

“Optimus?...” your voice was low, trying not to sound too surprised.  

“Yeah. He said it was something important, or whatever.” 

Your confused gaze switched between Optimus, whom still muttered something to Cade, and back to Crosshairs who just stood beside you. Fidgeting around his pistol.  

“Ok... well um... I guess I should head over to him-” 

A small yelp escaped your lips as he quickly got in your way.  

“No! No!” his whisper-shout came out a little louder than intended. “I-I mean...” 

Crosshairs gestured you to come a little closer, as he squatted down to your level.  

“Crosshairs, what’s going on?”  

The Autobot sighed, as his optics fell onto your unamused and confused expression. “Look... I don’t know what the Big Boss wants to discuss with you. Honestly he was very vague about it-” 

“Optimus is rarely vague about anything-” 

“My thoughts exactly. So I’m assuming it’s something important but also private.” 

Crosshairs attempted to hold a convincing smile, as your eyes studied his features.  

“Okay...” raising an eyebrow again. Your expression matching your unsure tone, “where do you think he’d would wanna talk?” 

“My best guess would be the tower behind you.”  

You briefly followed his gesture, pointing at the stone stairs behind you.  

Crosshairs shrugged at your silent question. Your eyes studied him one more time, before hesitantly approaching the stairs. 

“Well, you almost fucked that up.” 

Crosshairs glanced up at Hound, giving the Autobot daggers as he came out of hiding, once assured you were out of earshot.  

“Shut up.” Crosshairs hissed, standing to his full height. “I told you, I’m not good at this mushy stuff. If you’d ask me, I think this whole plan is pathetic.” 

“¬ you can’t handle the truth!¬” Bumblebee buzzed. His blue optics narrowing at his comrade.  

  “Autobots?”  

All froze as the sound of Optimus’ voice interrupted them.  

“What’s going on?”  

“¬Y/N wants¬ to see you¬ outside¬ Sir.” 

Optimus’ titled his head to the side, his optics giving Bumblebee a questioning gaze. “Why?” 

All speechlessly shrugged. But a annoyed whirl wheezed out of Bee, rolling his blue optics at his comrades, while impatiently grabbing Optimus’ servo.  

“Bumblebee? What?-” 

“¬Outside!¬” Bee simply repeated. Pulling his leader towards the large arch, which lead towards one of the cathedral’s courtyards.  

Optimus looked over his shoulder, giving a confused expression to the rest of the Autobots. Drift looked away, trying to hide his knowing smile. While Crosshairs and Hound simply sighed and walked away.  

--- 

Approaching the small stone balcony, a gasp left your breath as your wide eyes fell upon the most curious of sight.  

A mixture of fairy lights and string lights lit up the courtyard below. Hanging upon trees and their overhanging branches, dancing up the stone pillars which held the dome roof of a small gazebo. Delicate white lanterns lit by candlelight, was suspended above the gazebo. Their strings stretching from the balcony’s stone frame, to the nearby fence.  

Roughly potted flowers lined the courtyard’s flowerbeds, matching the drooping flowers in the large stone pots upon the balcony. A small chuckle escaping you, as your eyes fell upon a bench. Clearly from inside the cathedral, but broken down to fit upon the balcony’s edge. Dressed in loosely thrown flower petals, as it rested against the iron railings of the balcony. 

This is by far, better than Tessa’s love nest.  

Placing a hand over your mouth, attempting to hide your shy smile. As the sight of Bumblebee dragging Optimus by his servo came to you.  

The prime muttered something to the yellow scout, but Bumblebee only shook his head. Optimus’ optics tried to avoid your soft gaze, as Bee turned and went behind him. Giving the leader one final push against his back, before scuttering away.  

“This is... unexpected.” 

Your sweet tone caught his attention. Optimus’ shy gaze slowly left the floor and onto your blushing face.  

“As it is for me.” He spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “A thousand apologies, Y/N. This isn’t- I-I mean, it isn’t my intention-” 

“It’s alright, Optimus.” you assured.  

Your warm smile made his spark skip a beat. A gentle hue of warmth returning to underneath his metal plates.  

“It’s makes a lovely change from seeing graffitied walls and boarded up windows.” 

Optimus returned your warm smile, “indeed it does...” 

You clutched onto the laptop tightly, holding it against your chest. As though it would somehow stop the rapid beating of your heart. Warmth came to your cheeks, as you shyly looked away from him. 

His scanners picked up your pulsing heart and shaky breath. 

Say something! His processors commanded. Anything! 

“The laptop in your hands? I um... do not remember you having it before.”  

Idiot!  

“Um... yeah.” You begun to fiddle with it. “I found it in the station back in Texas. I’ve been going over the plans for tomorrow.” 

Optimus nodded, “familiarizing oneself of the strategies and plans, is highly wise. That way you’d most certainly be prepared for anything.” 

You awkwardly nodded. Your foot slowly tracing invisible circles upon the balcony floor.  

I am going to whack Crosshairs with a wench next time I see him! Your thoughts scolded.  

Optimus’ digits became fidgety. His servos clenching and unclenching, as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other. Edging a little closer to the balcony which came to his chest plate. 

His optics widening a little, as you prepared to turn away from him. 

Please don’t leave... 

“I-I would like to hear the plan.” his voice spat out. 

You gazed back at him with a raised eyebrow.  

Optimus cleared his throat, “please... I would appreciate if you’d ran a few details by me again.” 

“Sure... of course.” 

--- 

A sad whirl wheezed out of Bumblebee, lightly slapping the palm of his servo against his face plate. As him and Tessa moved away from the closed balcony doors.  

“I agree.” She muttered, “it is painful.” 

Her eyes watched as the yellow scout slouched against the bricked wall. A warm smile tugging at her lips, as Bee’s optics gazed down at his peds. 

“Hey. We can still help move things along.” 

Bee perked up at her cheerful tone. His hopeful gaze returning to her. 

“I’m pretty sure I saw a basketball downstairs-” 

“And I saw~ broken bits~ of mirror!” the Autobot buzzed. 

“Perfect!” 

--- 

“And with that, we should be straight in, straight out.” 

You looked up at Optimus with a soft smile. His gentle expression smiling back, as the redness of your cheeks never faded. His optics finding difficulty to look away for your soft lips. 

His spark tried to drive his body towards temptation, while his processors teased him with the ‘almost kiss’ back at the station. 

“I cannot help...” Optimus spoke, requiring more focus upon his words than usual. “I cannot help but be concerned for your safety. As if anything were to happen...” 

His sentence trailed off into silence, as his optics slightly widened at the sight of you reaching out to him. The cooling fans within his vents working overtime, as the Autobot tried to regulate his climbing body temperature. Your cool, soft touch sent volts of electricity through him, as your fingertips lightly brushed the back of his servo. Not knowing that you made his Spark yearn for you even more.  

“You shouldn’t be worried about me. I can take care of myself.”  

Your voice sounded like a sirens song, to Optimus’ audio receivers.  

“Perhaps something like this would ease your mind.” 

Butterflies tangled your nerves, as they fluttered in your stomach. Your heart skipping a beat, as the bazaar idea came to you. Your cheeks radiating similar warmth to Optimus, as you felt his gentle yet lingering gaze. Concentrating on each breath you took, as his optics memorized every detail of your body. How your hair subtlety moved in the cool night air, how your clothes loosely hugged your figure. Yet also leaving each curve of your hips and thighs to one’s imagination.  

“Here.” you shyly spoke. 

Taking off the ring upon your finger, and placing it into the palm of his servo. Optimus briefly studied the simple iron band, before returning his gaze to you. Your sweet smile making his breath get stuck in his throat.  

“It’s my ‘Lucky Ring’- stupid I know. But it was the first thing I ever forged with my Dad, it’s... not perfect. But I feel like it’s brought me a lot of luck, so I was thinking... perhaps... you could have it.” 

Optimus gulped, “Y/N... I-I can’t-” placing his free servo over his aching Spark. 

You slowly skootched over to him, closing the gap between you.  

“Please, I want you to have it.” You carefully guided his digits to enclose around the ring. The small item simply getting lost in his closed fist.  

“So whenever you see it, you’d think of me. And that as long as you carry this, a part of me will always be safe with you.” 

Optimus caved in to his body’s temptations. His servo leaving his chest, and quickly wrapping around your waist, gently pulling you closer.  

“I do not require an item to think of you. For you are always running through my processors.” 

The blush across your features spread towards your ears, your face never felt so warm. As the wires within the Autobot’s abdomen crossed and entangled themselves. His Spark’s rhythm matching your pulsing heart.              

Optimus’ servo gently retracted from your waist, allowing his index digit to trace your curves before holding it out in front of you. 

Your starstruck gaze trailed down from his loving optics, a breathless gap escaping your lips, as the metal plates around his wrist shifted. Thin cables slithered out like snakes, as he brought your iron ring towards them. Immediately threading themselves through the band, securing it tightly against his metal plates, only allowing the ring to dangle a little.  

Placing a hand over your silent gasp, as Optimus opened his chest plates. Reveling his pulsing energy core, blue sparks zapped away from his Spark. His hopeful optics watched his core glow brightly in your eyes, his chest raising and falling, while his vents worked overtime.  

This... vulnerable feeling? His processors questioned. Is this how it feels to find... a Sparkmate?  

Your eyes widened as a glowing shard left his chest, it center glowed slightly dimmer than his Spark.  

“This is the Great Matrix of Leadership.” Optimus explained, as the ‘S’-shape shard dance and hovered in the palm of his servo. “It’s the only thing in this universe that can revive the Spark of a Cybertronian.” 

“Optimus... it’s beautiful.” 

The Matrix rapidly spun in his palm, a blue flash bursting from it’s center, as it shrunk to the size of a small pendant. Optimus gently threaded thin copper wires, which braided themselves together, through the tip of The Matrix  

Your heart jumped into your throat, as Optimus guided the necklace towards you.  

“It is my gift to you. So a piece of me is always with you-” 

“O-Optimus?-” 

“It will protect you from any harm. And if should anything ever happen to me, you’d be the one to ignite my Spark. For it’s you, who makes it pulse through my wires.” 

While the familiar sensation of a loving bond enveloped the pair of you. His knuckles caressed your cheek, as he gently placed The Matrix necklace around your neck.    

“Y/N... believe me, this is not something I do, nor say lightly." Optimus gently admitted, "I can’t give you normality, or anything a regular human could offer. But what I can give, is everything that I am.” 

A loving sigh escaped his lips, as you briefly caressed his cheek. Your hand trailing towards his neck, and your fingers tracing the back of his helm. Optimus’ chest closed again, as he placed his free servo around your waist again. Gently sweeping you off your feet, and bringing you closer to him.

"By my Spark, I would protect you. Adore you. Cherish and support anything that's important to you. If doubt ever aches your heart, I will not rest till I can do everything I can, to free you of such feeling."

He placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead, running a digit through your hair. As his optics shined with hope and love.

"And if you ever wished for a piece of the night sky. I would go to its depths, and bring you back the brightest star." 

--- 

“What are you two doing?” Shaned asked raising an eyebrow. As his puzzled gaze fell upon Tessa hoisting up a mis-shaped, makeshift disco ball, while Bumblebee helped guide it. Attempting to not allow the object to knock against the broken window. 

“~Kiss the girl~” the Disney song buzzed from the scout’s radio. 

“Their leader has fallen for my sister.” Tessa briefly explained, “something about her being Optimus’... what did you call it, Bee?” 

“A~ Sparkmate~” 

“Yeah... that...” 

Shane placed his hands upon his hips. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “and that explains the uh, disco ball, how?” 

“~setting the mood~ for ~true loves kiss!-” 

“What racket are you two making now?” Crosshairs sighed.  

All three turned to the green Autobot, as he crouched near the landing of the stone steps. 

“Her sister, your boss.” Shane briefly spoke. 

Crosshairs folded his arms across his chest plates, “you two still wasting time with that nonsense? I told you, there’s no such thing as a ‘Sparkmate’-” 

“~what would~ you know~ about~ Sparkmate’s?” Bee challenged, letting go of the makeshift disco ball. 

“Bee!” Tessa cried, as the rope almost lifted her off the ground. 

The scout quickly grabbed the mirror coated ball, saving Tessa from flying a tall height. 

“It’s a interspecies relationship.” Crosshairs groaned, “such thing has never been heard of back on Cybertron.-” 

“~Love~ comes in~ different shapes!-” 

“Ugh, guys.” Shane’s small voice interrupted, as his surprised expression gazed out of the window. “You should take a look at this...” 

--- 

Eyes closed and embracing one another. A satisfied hum rumbled in the back of Optimus’ throat, as his lips mimicked yours.  

Your heart fluttered, as The Matrix necklace rested against your chest. Your free hand trailed down from the back of his helm, towards Optimus' chest plate. Feeling the vibrations of his Spark, as it burst like small firecrackers.  

A muffled moan slipped from you, as his glossa entered your mouth. Deepening the kiss and exploring your flavour, he gently bit your bottom lip. Encouraging your tongue to enter his mouth.

The desire of wanting more knotted in Optimus' admonian, as one of his servo’s explored the curvature of your back. Reaching down towards the waistband of your trousers, slipping his digits underneath the fabric. Butterflies in your stomach, caused the lowest pits to do backflips. As you felt Optimus' servo play with the lace of your undergarments, before giving your ass a cheeky squeeze.   

A warmth built up within your core, as your body pressed against Optimus’ chassis. Small volts sparked throughout his wires, as your bust pushed up against him. Taking a moment to pull away from the kiss, as his optics took a cheeky sneak at your cleavage.  

S-Sweet Primus! 

A flickering flame built up within his core, as dirty thoughts intrude his processors. 

His servo cradled your back, as you leaned back a little. Allowing the prime to plant soft kisses along your collar bone, and up towards your neck. 

“Y/N... my Sweet Spark.” His toned rippled against you, causing excited shivers to run up your spine. 

“Optimus-” 

‘Crash!’ ‘Shatter!’ 

“Bumblebee!” the sound of your sister’s voice interrupted the silence. Followed by a sad whirl wheezing from the yellow Autobot.  

You and Optimus looked at the window, which overlooked the balcony. Just seeing a glimpse of Shane and Crosshairs ducking out of sight.  

An awkward chuckle erupted between the pair of you, as you and Optimus slowly broke away from one another. Your fingers and his digits tracing each others arm and down towards the palm. 

“We uh... should head back inside.” You lowly spoke. Cheeks blushing from the afterglow.  

Optimus tenderly kissed your cheek, before returning to his full height. “Indeed... perhaps, we could continue this another time?” 

Next Day

“Calm down. Calm down.” Shane nervously muttered to himself, as Bee slowly rolled up to the back entrance of K.S.I. 

“Y’know... in times like this, the idea is to keep cool, not look cool.” Cade sighed in the passenger seat. “So why don’t you lose the sunglasses?” 

Shane removed the item as Cade briefly glanced at him. 

“About a month ago, I thought I heard noises in the middle of the night. Was that you?” 

Shane gave him a wide eyed stare, “what? You’re asking me this now?-” 

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You see that guy with the gun out there?-” 

“There’s so many guys with guns!” his panicky tone hissed.  

“Let’s get out the car and tell him we’re about to break in.” Cade’s voice kept it’s calm and collected tone, “we could admit it was your idea. Cause I don’t care, I’m old, I’ve already lived long enough-” 

“You have a real bad habit of having these conversations at the wrong time, man!-” 

“You wanna come clean, or you want me to make a mess?” 

Shane’s heart leapt into his throat, as Cade cleared his throat. Attempting to politely get the attention of one of the guards, “Sir, can I talk to you for a second please?” 

“It was me. It was me” the Irishman lowly repeated, as the guard forced Cade’s door shut. Giving Cade a stern expression while shaking his head.  

“Taking it in for scanning?” another guard address Shane, while Bee rolled down the driver’s window. 

Shane silently nodded, holding up the forged K.S.I staff badge. The guard scanned it, looking over the pair before approving them to go ahead... 

The Camero rolled through a hanger of polished concrete floors, and wooden walls painted black. Shane and Cade scanned their surroundings, avoiding eye contact from passing staff members.  

“We took old, alien technology and made it better in every way.” A feminine voice echoed over the P.A system, “introducing Stinger.” 

Bumblebee rolled to a gentle halt, as Cade’s wide eyed stare glanced up at a pink Transformer. Which was displayed in the middle of the hanger. 

“That’s a bad-ass robot.” Shane admired, leaning closer to the windscreen. 

“Kinda looks like you, Bee.” 

Bumblebee revved his engine, disagreeing with Cade’s observation. 

The Texan got out of Bee’s passenger seat, slowly approaching the display. He looked around the hanger, before activating the video recording system, that Crosshairs’ hid into Cade’s smart watch. 

“Can you see this, Sweetie?” Cade whispered to you through his ear piece.  

“I see it, Dad.” Your polite tone confirmed. “What the hell are these guys doing?” 

“Looks like, they’re trying to build their own versions of the Transformers-” 

“Well, at least they’re picking cooler cars than this.” Shane interrupted.  

Bee revved his engine again, pushing his stirring wheel out of the dashboard and into Shane’s face.  

“¬You talk to me like that?¬” the yellow scout buzzed angrily.  

“Dad? What’s going on?” your voice scratched through Cade’s ear piece. 

“Nothing, Sweetie. I’ll send more stuff your way if I find anything.”  

Cade quickly deactivated the recording, approaching Bee’s passenger door again.  

“See what happens, when you try and be a smart-ass?” he hissed at Shane.  

Shane crawled out of the Autobot’s altmode. As an advertisement projected itself onto a screen, behind the Stinger display.  

“Inspired by Bumblebee. But better in every way” the femiline voice continued through the screen. 

“~What?~” Bee’s radio harshly buzzed. “~Son of a-” 

“No! No!” Cade yelled at the Autobot, whom decided to do burnouts in the hanger. Marking up the polished concrete floor, “you gotta calm down!” 

“Bee! Stop messing around!-” 

All froze as the sound of voices filled the hanger, Cade and Shane’s nervous stares glanced up at a group of people walking through doors on the opposite side of the hanger.  

“Hey!” one of their voices called out. “You two! Grease moneys!” 

"Oh shit..." Shane muttered. "That's Mr Joyce, the CEO of K.S.I." He nervously tried to hide behind Bumblebee, as the individual dressed in a fine tailored suit, and glasses approached Cade.     

“What the hell is going on here? And what’s with this vintage crap?” He hissed in an hushed whisper.   

Bee revved his engine as Mr Joyce gestured towards the Autobot.  

“We’re not scanning collector junk.” Joyce's tone held an amused tone, matching his expression. As he continued to talk to Cade, “what is it that you think we make here? Hmm? We make poetry here! We’re poets! When you work for me, you get to make one mistake. One. Understood?”  

“Yes Sir.” Cade professionally spoke, “understood. It won’t happen again, Sir.” 

“It certainly won't.” Joyce sighed, “now... let’s get this pathetic thing out of here. And you, too.” 

Cade silently nodded, feeling Joyce's stare look over him again. Before returning to the rest of the group, and escorting them out of the hanger.  

Shane released a heavy sigh of relief, that he had been holding in the whole time. 

“You and Bee leave here quietly.” Cade spoke, as he looked at the Irishman over his shoulder. “I’m going to try and have a look around. Hopefully Y/N is doing better than us...” 

--- 

Your heels clicked along the marble floor, as you walked across the lab of the basement level. Scientists, engineers and various staff hovered around tables. Your hand clenching into a fist inside the pocket of the lab coat, while your free hand fiddled with The Matrix necklace. Your eyes looked at the multiple pieces of alien tech, which scattered across the metal tables throughout the lab.  

Your saddened gaze fell onto the heart-wrenching sight before you. A small gasp getting trapped in your throat, as your heart sunk deeper into your chest.  

You poor darling. You thought, as the lab-techs melted and pulled parts off, of a decapitated green Autobot helm. What have they done to you?-   

“Metal.” A blonde woman wearing a smart three-piece suit approached your side, her blue eyes following your gaze. As you played with your smart watch, discreetly sending the video footage to Drift.  

“Just metal. Well, that’s what I always thought of them.” 

“You’re wrong.” She gave you a puzzled side glance, as you tried to hide the breaking of your voice. “They’re more than that. They’re living beings with souls- like you and me.” 

You pulled a weak smile, “I uh, spoke to one... once.”  

“And you’re working with Transformium?” 

She studied your silent nod, before turning her attention onto a clear canister filled with a gray substance which looked like sand.  

“I’m out there digging for it.” She sighed, “there’s just not much left to find.” Her eyes flickered back to the Autobot’s helm, “so that how badly you guys need more, huh? Reduced to melting old Deceptions?” 

“That’s not a Deception.” You corrected, “that’s an Autobot. The ones who fought for us-” 

“They slaughtered Ratchet!” Optimus’ angry voice yelled through your ear piece. Almost hurting your ear drum. “I’m gonna tear them apart!” 

A loud sound of something falling echoed throughout your ear.  

“Excuse me.” You kindly spoke to the blonde woman, as you took a few steps towards one of the exits. “Optimus? Can you hear me?” 

Only radio static responded to you. 

“Crosshairs? Drift? Can any of you hear me? Please! Don’t do anything rash.” 

More static. 

An uncomfortable knot twisted in your stomach.  

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?- 

“Security to Level 3, please. Security to Level 3.” A voice echoed over the P.A system. 

Now what?    

--- 

Shit! Shit! Shit!                

Cade ran across the third level of the K.S.I building. Alarms going off over the P.A system, as security followed him. 

Dodging between frozen staff members, and bursting through random doors. Cade almost made it back to the lift, which lead down back to ground level.  

But he had to come to a skidding halt, as more security guards cut him off. Aiming their weapons in his direction.  

“Up against the wall! Hands behind your head!” 

A heavy sigh left Cade, as he peacefully co-operated. As the security grabbed his arms, placing them against his back and pinning him against the window.  

“Corporate espionage.” A familiar voice caught Cade’s attention. Looking over his shoulder to see Mr Joyce, “that’s a very serious crime, Mr. Yeager. How I didn’t recognize you before baffles me, but no matter-” 

“Look! Before this goes any further, I want a lawyer!” Cade protested. “Th-The Justice Department. Somebody I can trust! I’m just trying to protect my family, okay? Not from your company! From the government!” 

“I can take it from here, Mr. Joyce.”  A new individual entered the scene, Joyce studied the new stranger before walking towards the lift at the end of the hall.  

Cade studied the new individual. A middle age man stood before him, well dressed like Mr. Joyce but his scalp reveling a receding hairline. Firm yet studious eyes hid behind thin glasses. He made a simple gesture at the security. Allowing Cade to face him fully, while rubbing his wrists a little.  

“My name is Attinger, Mr. Yeager.” He introduced, “and who do you think I work for?” 

Cade studied Attinger’s sly smile. 

“You’re trying to protect your family, that’s admirable. And I’m trying to defend the nation from a alien war, we’ve had a taste of what that looks like.”  

He carefully approached Cade, “and we’re certainly not going to tolerate another. Now... there is a version of this conversation, where you get to back to your barn. Your youngest daughter graduate with honor's, while your oldest gets a full-time position with any company within the U.S.A. I’ll even advocate for her personally for a six-figure salary, should she choose to work with me. And life as you know it, goes on.” 

Cade raised an eyebrow, as Attinger continued. 

“You and your daughters have no idea, what you gotten yourselves into.” 

“And what’s the other version of this conversation?” Cade challenged, bring a frown to Attinger’s features. “Sending in your ‘hired help’ to murder my little girls? Or are you going to man up and do it yourself?” 

“Depends on your preference, Mr. Yeager... I don’t ask much. You can still turn things into your favor. All you have to do, is convince your eldest to tell me where Optimus Prime is.” 

A cheeky smile came to Cade, as the reflection of Bumblebee in the nearby window caught his attention. “I didn’t raise no snitch-” 

‘Crash!’ 

--- 

Screams echoed throughout K.S.I as Crosshairs and Hound accompanied Optimus. Bursting through high windows, showering everyone below in a rain of glass, as the Autobots made their way through the lower levels. 

Crosshairs raised his pistol above his helm, firing warning shots as the trio entered the lab. 

“Get out! All of you!” Optimus roared, as people scattered away from him.  

“Science fair’s over, meat-bags!” Hound’s voice thundered.  

“Destroy the lab!”  

The Autobots happily carried out their leader’s orders. Crosshairs and Hound fired at the piles of alien technology, kicking tables and igniting all manner of equipment.  

“Excuse me!” You squeaked, trying to push through the flood of people exiting the lab. “Out of my way, please!” 

“Destroy it all!”  

Your pounding heart ached a little, as Optimus’ rageful voice yelled commands. 

“Hey!” Joyce's voice roared over the gunfire, storming over to the Autobot leader. “Hey! Stop! That’s company property!” 

“They’re not your property!” Optimus challenged, as he stood over Joyce. Allowing Hound to satisfyingly kick a table filled with alien parts.  

“They were my friends!” 

Joyce’s studious gaze analyzed the situation.  

Finally pushing through the crowd, your eyes widened as Hound clocked his cannon. The weapon releasing a humming sound, as he aimed it at Joyce.  

“Oh, you not talking so much now!” a smaller Autobot teased. “Not so tough when Hound is in front of you, huh?” 

You watched the small Cybertronian climb onto the barrel of Hound’s cannon, his optics glaring daggers at Joyce.  

“Go ahead.” Joyce calmly taunted, “show us your true colours, once and for all-” 

“Just give me the word.” Hound smiled, “I’ll splatter him-” 

“No! Don’t!” you cried.  

“Why don’t you tell Itchy Fingers here, that this is all the spoils of war?” Joyce challenged, “dead metal. Innovation. That’s what we do here, it’s simply science! Because if we don’t do it, somebody else will! Because you cannot stop technology!-” 

“We’re not your technology!” Optimus roared.  

You ducked as the Autobot blindly kicked machinery into your direction. Causing sparks to erupt from power-ports, and machinery bits fly over your head.  

“Optimus! Stop!” you begged.  

“Let me vaporize his ass!-” 

“Don’t do it, Hound!” 

You quickly approached Joyce, standing between him and the barrel of Hound’s cannon.  

"Out the way, Y/N." Hound's tone of voice sounded more like a warning, than a pea.

"No, I wont." You gazed into his green optics, range faded as sorrow filled them. "You're better than this Hound. Please... lower your weapon."

Hesitating for a moment, the Autobot grumbled. His cannon slowly shutting down, placing the weapon over his shoulder.  

“I broke the code. I own your whole genome.” Joyce spoke with a smug expression. Confidence returning to his tone, since you've became his 'shield.'  

“Keep digging your grave!” You hissed turning your whole body to him. “I’m not here for your sorry ass!” 

Optimus crouched down to your level, lowering the barrel of his weapon. As his servo went from the weapon's trigger, and reached out for you.

“Y/N...?”  

“We’ll tell the world what’s happening here.” You promised. Looking up at him, giving his index digit a comforting touch.  

Your voice almost soothing Optimus’ rage filled Spark.  

“Interesting... you allied yourself with them?’” Joyce questioned, gesturing at you and Optimus. His curious gaze switching between the pair of you, "or... am I sensing something, a little more?-"  

"I'm giving you one chance." You firmly spoke, turning your attention back onto Joyce. "Stop doing this. Or the whole world will know what's happening here! What you're doing them!"

Joyce snickered at your words, “the world? The world would approve, my dear. We can make them now. Don’t you get it? Humanity doesn't need the Transformers anymore-” 

“You’re wrong!” You said, shaking your head. “Humanity will always need the Cybertronians.” 

A weak smile came to Hound, “you tell him Y/N.” 

Optimus studied you and Joyce, puffing out his chest and releasing a unsatisfied huff.  

“Autobots... we’re done.”  

Tag List

@ursamajor17 @crowleysthings @k----a27s @lainekyuu @manticcashew @goreismyforte @imachaoticghost @person101lol

#optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #bayverse optimus x reader #transformers x reader #bayverse transformers x reader #transformers x you #optimus prime x you #optimus prime #optimus prime bayverse #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic writing #bayverse x reader #transformers #gardens light #x y/n #x fem!reader

[cassandraclare]

I still have some questions about Belial:

1) How did Belial make Tessa with his curse?

2) Was Belial's debt to Jem originally planned as something other than passing on a message?

3) Why would Belial give powers to James and esp Lucie when they could use them against him (and in the latter's case, he didn't care about her)? I just still can't understand why they would be taken away with his death or why he'd intentionally bother with that.

Thank you in advance!

Okay! I would say strap in for some boring technical the-nature-of-fantasy-writing stuff.

How did Belial make Tessa with his curse?

We already know Belial can, in fact, walk on the earth if he possesses someone. In the case of possessing an ordinary human, the body falls apart quickly. If he possesses a demon it lasts longer, and he could wander about for a while as a demon if he liked, he's just not interested. He's obsessed with the idea of being on the earth in a human body: i.e. James. Anyway, he possessed the Eidolon demon that took the form of Richard Gray, Tessa's father.

2) Was Belial's debt to Jem originally planned as something other than passing on a message?

It took me a while to try to understand this question, and I'm still not totally sure I do. I thought it was a question about what the favor was, but I think it's "Did you ever plan for Belial to owe Jem for some other reason?"  To which the answer is no. It was always planned to hinge on the deal that is made re: the Herondales. While Jem frames it as "passing on a message" that is in fact, not what the favor was.

3) Why would Belial give powers to James and esp Lucie when they could use them against him (and in the latter's case, he didn't care about her)? I just still can't understand why they would be taken away with his death or why he'd intentionally bother with that.

These seem like two different questions, so for the first one: Belial didn't give powers to James and Lucie in the way you seem to be framing it. He gave a specific power to Grace, which is why Grace, you know, remembers that happening. James and Lucie just have powers because they are related to Belial. Same reason Tessa has her power. Belial had no idea what the specifics of all his mortal descendants would be—how could he? Shadowhunter/demon hybrids had never existed before. He may have thought they might have powers of some sort, but he did not handcraft them and send them to James and Lucie for Demon Christmas. :-)

As for why, I guess, Belial didn't kill them in the womb or something (assuming he could have done that) — this seems to be the question, "Why would Belial ever make a mistake or take a risk?" And the answer is, "Why wouldn't that happen?" Being a demon doesn't insulate Belial from having flaws or being in error (some might say that's the essential nature of demons.) It's a bit like asking why Satan made war on God in Paradise Lost when he was certain to lose because you know, God. Milton kind of wrote his entire epic poem to answer that question. And (Cliff Notes): the answer was pride. Pride blinded Lucifer, and if Lucifer can be blinded by pride, then Belial can also be blinded by his own flaws, specifically hubris and a misunderstanding of the nature of human beings. While Belial knew James and Lucie had powers, he never thought those powers posed a significant risk to him and he wrongly assumed he would always be more powerful than they were and easily able to turn their powers to his advantage. Jem explains Belial's error fairly plainly:

"There was also the great weakness of demons: they did not understand either love or faith. Belial had underestimated not just Cordelia, Lucie, and James, but also their friends, and what they would all do for each other."

As for why J&L's powers vanished with his death: I think there is a confusion here between two kinds of magic. Rules-based magic, and numinous magic. Rules-based magic being what it sounds like, and numinous magic being magic that has an almost mystical element that cannot be explained like a math problem but is rooted in the resonance of human experience, of myth and fairy tale. Rules-based magic needs to be explained to us in fiction. Numinous magic we understand because we're human and we know. (Jo Walton has a good essay on the two kinds of magic and the ways they work together and apart here.)

Neither is a better kind of magic in fiction than the other and most good fantasy contains both. An example: The Ring in Lord of the Rings. It has a numinous power: it exerts an evil influence, but that evil influence doesn't work in a specific, ordered way, and it works differently in different situations and on different people, often without an obvious reason why. But it makes sense, as long as you keep the essential nature of the Ring in mind. The Ring also has another power. If you put it on, you become invisible. The end. Works the same for everyone. The Ring has both numinous and rules-based powers.

If you are looking for a math-type answer to why James and Lucie's powers vanished with Belial's death, there is not one, as their powers were inherently numinous to begin with, and we already have both rules-based and numinous magic in the Shadowhunter world. In fact, we already have examples of magic coming apart when the magic-creator dies in the Shadowhunter world. When Sebastian dies, the Endarkened die with him. When Johnny Rook dies, his wards fail.

To go back to Lord of the Rings, when Sauron dies, his fortress of Barad-dûr collapses. This is not because it was architecturally unsound. It is because we understand things like Sauron's fortress to be the expression of someone's will in the world, and when they die, their will is broken.

The breaking or undoing of that will is concretized in fiction (just like all metaphor is) — so while James and Lucie couldn't have predicted that their powers would vanish with Belial's death as their situation (being a Prince of Hell’s Shadowhunter grandchildren) is literally unprecedented, it makes sense to them that their powers would go when he went. They don't seek a rules-based explanation since 1) they already live in a world where magic sometimes disappears or collapses when the magic-creator dies and 2) they don't need one. As James says, "Not because [the gun] no longer fires at my command, though that is true—but because it only ever worked for me because of Belial, and Belial is gone."

#the last hours #tsc #shadowhunters

[the-mighty-e]

Okay new theory while I make both my drawings and another analysis!

To make it easier for everyone, I'll just call Cynessa "Tessa" for this post

Okay so, we know that N, V and J have clones, main source of information was J with this line

But, of course, Cyn too with these two lines, that were more specifically about N

So yeah, we know J has clones, N has clones, so V probably has clones too. Where am I going with this? I actually have no idea.

I think that V is way more important than she seems. She was the first to get experimented on by the solver, the first to become possessed (not turned into a host) yada yada.

Tessa always specified that they're gonna save V, both in ep 6 and in this new episode. But here she sounds way more pissed

With even the after being italic. V must be really important.

This is actually the first time we've seen Tessa being so "pissed". She probably wasn't expecting V, the one that should hate anything related to the solver the most, sacrifice herself for Uzi. As I said in my Vuzi post, she entrusted her whole life to her.

That's why Tessa was so pressed about V at the start, and used that fake sweet tone with Uzi, telling her to sit, saying that "Robots like boxes" that's definitely out of charactet for Tessa, someone who loves robots.

It's possible that Tessa didn't want to lose V because she knew she couldn't get a clone immediately. As far as she knows, as I said in another post, N still has a crush on V.

She probably wanted to use V as a way to "calm him down" or, idk, basically telling him "oh yeah, your friend is dead, but you have your crush!"

She even tried to use V to lower N's guard. She really thought that V was important.

Now tell me, if V was there with them, would the Solver had to create a worker V illusion? She would've just went with Cyn, or something else. But it chose V, because she's gone. So that would've made N vulnerable.

And later on it found out N's real weakness: Uzi. But that's already discussed.

Long story short: Tessa NEEDED V there, was pissed by her sacrifice because she couldn't get a clone and her plan was forcibly changed.

Thank you for coming to my kooky ramblings :)

Next analysis will be on Thad and Lizzy per request

ALSO very random but my spider senses (I'm a joke to humanity) told me that ep 8 will release on july 17th, so if I'm actually right then I'll ascend to godhood

#murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones v #murder drones tessa #murder drones cynessa #amber's theories???

[hockeybabe]

mitchie marny please n thanks 🙏🏼

Photoshoot | M.Marner

Not my gif

Pairings: Mitch Marner x fem!figure skater

Summary: you get an offer to represent leafs merch with Mitch

Warnings: swearing, make out session, fade to black smut, Mitch’s a nice guy

Word count: 612

Note: first off I choose a cute imagine. But I really want to thank you guys for the appreciation on Sneak Away like lots of love. Also major thank you for the 300 followers. Love you all so much.

When you had first got the call to do the shoot, you were over the moon. You’d been living in Toronto for as long as you could remember and living there also meant living so close to a rink to practice for all competitions. To most countries you were another figure skater, but to Canada you were a sensation, very close to Tessa Virtue. 

When your coach told you that the leafs wanted to partner with you, you couldn’t help but be excited. So here you were walking down a tunnel following your stylist and a leafs representative. “Okay so Y/N, you’re going to change into these and we’ll see you back in that room.” They told you, handing you a jersey.

It was a regular leafs jersey with the blue being the prominent colour however, this jersey had the All-Star patch on the shoulder. You examined the jersey, looking at the back number, number 16, Marner. Your heart gushed and a blush rose to your cheeks.

You walked out of the change room and headed to the studio for where you’d be taking the photos. “You look great!” Your stylist gushed. “So we’re gonna have you stand there and Mitch over here will be right behind you.” The photographer said, pointing to Mitch who was beside him.

You nod your head, allowing the stylist and photographer to walk away, leaving you alone with Mitch. “Hey, sorry about the late notice. I thought they would’ve told you,” Mitch says nervously while shaking your hand. “Oh, no it’s fine. Makes me feel less nervous.” You say, giving Mitch a bright smile.

“This makes you nervous?” He motions to the photoshoot going on behind him. “Not all the times you perform in front of hundred of people.” You laugh at his exaggeration. “between you and me, the ice is my home. There’s no fear, there is only peace.”

Mitch looks at you with such adoration. All the words you were saying to him about skating are just what he felt when he played hockey. Although no one enjoys losing, he still felt better on ice than walking on concrete.

“Okay, you two lovey eye makers, time to do the shoot!” The photographer shouts. You and Mitch both blush but comply. The photoshoot went on calmly. You felt more comfortable knowing Mitch was in the room and the fact that he was whispering nice things in your ear and some poses being of him holding your waist and you two smiling at each other.

“Last shot. Mitch, I want you to point to y/n’s back while she stands facing you. So her face won’t be in shot.” The guy explains. You turned around to face Mitch to see him already staring at you before posing for the camera. You stared at him during the time and you could see the smirk growing on Mitch’s face.

“That’s it, folks! Good job everyone!” The photographer yelled out, already putting his equipment away. “Well, that’s it.” You say, facing Mitch, fiddling with your hand. “Maybe it can be a bit more.” He says confidently.

A half an hour later, you back at Mitch’s apartment and you back against his door and your lips attached to one another. You moan into Mitch’s mouth as he runs his hands over your body, feeling very curve. “Good, you’re so beautiful.” He groans, looking up and down your body.

“We should probably take this to your bedroom.” You suggest playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. “Yeah, one hundred percent.” He says, trailing kisses from your neck to your lips. “If we make it there.” He mumbles before crashing his lips to yours.

#hockey #hockey players #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #imagine #nhl smut #fluff #toronto maple leafs #hockey smut #mitch marner blurb #mitch marner fluff #mitch marner #mitch marner smut #mitch marner imagine #mitchell marner #16 #marner16 #nhl blurb #nhl x reader #mitch marner x reader

[artificial-transmutations]

Pirate Birthday Party

Zander was 28 years old when he entered a boat for the first time. It was not that he didn't have the chance before, but he was simply afraid of it. The way the waves broke over the bow, the way the wind whipped across the deck... and of course the constant movement of the sea and the ship itself. He had always thought of himself as a land person, someone who preferred to be on solid ground, or at least on dry land. The idea of being tossed about like a rag doll, unable to do anything about it, terrified him.

Naturally, this fear of the sea was nothing Zander liked to discuss much. It wasn't a topic that came up on its own, and he certainly didn't want to bring it up on his own.

So there really wasn't any bad intention involved when Zander's friends set up a surprise party for his 29th birthday. The problem was that it wasn't just any surprise party: Zander's friends had gone out of their way to rent a small boat so they could celebrate on the ocean.

When they arrived at the beach, where the small ship was towed on a pier, Zander froze in his step. They wouldn't have, would they?

"We're celebrating on a ... boat?" he croaked.

His best friend, Jasper, laughed. "Yes! It's going to be awesome, dude!" He put his hand on Zander's shoulder. "Come on, you'll love it."

Zander looked around. All of his friends were in high spirits, both the boys and the girls. This was a difficult situation. He really didn't want to board the ship, but he couldn't very well say no now. Renting the ship must have been expensive, and everything was looking forward to a big party now.

"Who is going to drive the ship?" Was 'drive' even the right word? Probably not.

"That's the best part, come on!" Jasper said excitedly.

The other guys and gals were already climbing on board of the ship in the bright afternoon sun. Zander could already see the ship swaying from left to right and felt another wave of discomfort. But there was no turning back now. Gathering all his courage, he walked down the pier and stepped onto the ship. The wooden planks creaked underfoot as he climbed aboard. When he reached the top deck, he saw that the circle of friends was waiting for him. There was Jasper, of course, but also some of his other friends, including Tessa, the girl he had dated last year. It didn't work out between the two of them, but they decided to stay friends regardless - Tessa was a really cool girl.

"So, the big surprise is that..." Jasper made a dramatic gesture before continuing: "You will be our captain tonight!"

Zander's jaw dropped open. He didn't know what to say. What did this mean? Was he supposed to steer the ship? That seemed like an impossible task.

"Don't worry," Jasper assured him. "The guy who owns the boat is really cool. He said it's really easy and a baby could do it. He will be here later tonight to help us tow it up again and everything in-between shouldn't be a problem!"

Zander nodded, still not fully convinced. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on what Jasper was saying. He was probably right, he rationalized. Technology was so advanced nowadays, the boat would pretty much drive itself. Or steer, or whatever the word was.

"Okay. Wow, guys! Thank you so much!" He almost believed the joy in his words. He needed to. He wanted to have a nice party, and sometimes he just needed to take a leap of faith.

So, with the help of his friends, he managed to figure out the basics of controlling the ship rather quickly. Jasper had been right: It wasn't too complicated.

As the engine sprang to life, all of his friends cheered. Encouraged by their good mood, Zander steered the ship out to the open ocean until they couldn't see the beach anymore and stopped there.

Climbing back on deck, he was in quite high spirits as well. Being on a ship wasn't so bad! There was no one else and they could party all they wanted. When everyone was looking at him, he shouted:

"Alright! Thank you so much for the great idea, guys! You are the best! Now, let's get the party started! Did you bring beer?"

Laughing, Jasper pointed at a sizable cargo of different alcoholic beverages, including a keg of beer. However, something else caught Zander's eye. He turned around and shouted at his friends: "We're starting with the rum today!"

"You heard the captain! To the rum!" Tessa yelled back, quickly filling up her glass filled with rum.

"To the rum!" Everyone raised their glasses and drank down the sweet liquid.

It tasted surprisingly good, actually. Maybe it was because it had been so long since he last drank alcohol, or maybe it was simply because he liked it. Still, he felt somewhat dizzy after downing the glass. His head was swimming and he had to grab on to the railing to keep him on his feet. Of course, he tried to regain his balance at once. Being the captain, he couldn't very well fall to the deck like a landlubber, could he now?

Zander felt his body changing as he stood upright again, now towering a good ten to twenty centimeters higher than before. As he looked down on himself, his shirt dissolved, exposing his increasingly muscular build. His chest grew into solid plates of pecs, tanned from the sun on the sea and kept naturally hairless by the salty air. His abs formed a cobblestone road down to his pants that shifted as well. The light white material of his shorts grew more sturdy in the matter of moments, extending down and forming brown leather pants. A complicated double belt materialized into existence on his waist, holding both a saber and a pistol. It was held in place by his butt, which became way more muscular and fuller, perfect not only for holding belts in place.

Meanwhile his arms and legs thickened with raw muscle. The sea was no easy place to live, and when he needed to wrestle down nature in thunderstorms on the open sea, he needed all the strength his massive body could provide. Still, he was more than a mere sailor. He was a captain! The ornate leather coat rested on his shoulders for a reason. His cloak, his necklace, his wristbands and his hairband - all of that was his personal style and that was what his enemies feared. He was not just a captain, he was a great captain, a great pirate captain, he recollected as his hair turned a dirty blonde and his eyes a piercing black.

Over him, the jolly roger rattled in the wind and the planks of the ship under him creaked. There was really no place he would rather be than on his ship.

When he looked up again, he saw his crew standing in front of him. All buff men, of all colors and from every country. That was of course no coincidence, since he hand-picked his crew with great care. Seeing the glistering sweaty bodies of his men standing in front of him often made him hard, and today was no exception.

"What is it boys?" he asked with a smile.

One of them, a massive Black guy named Tess- no, Tyler, Zander corrected himself, stepped forward.

"We know it's your birthday today, captain!", the brute said. Zander could already see the massive python of the man twitch in his pants, as he continued. "And we're here to give you your present!"

Zander smiled and massaged his dick, as his men began to get rid of their pants quickly. It was no coincidence either, that all of his men preferred the company of men. He hand-picked them himself, after all.

"Let's party then!" he shouted and threw himself amidst the buff and sweaty bodies of his men.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #racial transformation #straight to gay #female to male tf

[lu-vin-it]

Luck | 2

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Part 1

Summary: Life with Coryo in the districts is hard.

Pairings: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Pronouns used: Gn! Use of “Mx.” and “Mxs.”

Word Count: 4,448

Warnings: Death, depression, use of morphling (but only as a pain medication.)

A/N: Okay so pt 2 is here! I am willing to do a part 3, but I wanted to leave that up to you guys cause if I do a part three then there will be a major falling out between Tigris and R, and if you’re anything like @lunatiqez and I, you are probably dreading it. Up to u guys!!

Also thank you to @/lunatiquez and @lemkay-luminary for proofreading! Ilysm!

“Coryo?” You ask as line breaks up. 

“Hm, yes?” You let out a relieved sigh. You hate when you lose connection, because Coryo only gets one call a week, and once it ends, it ends.

“Sorry, you cut out, what were you saying?” 

“It’s fine, I said I miss home.” He pauses with a small sigh. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Coryo. It’s not the same without you.” 

“Sejanus says hello, by the way.” 

You roll your eyes. “Tell him I said hi.” 

Coryo’s laughter fills the line. “I’ll make sure to say it with more enthusiasm.” 

“I’m sorry! I just don’t care for him. Though, I imagine he’s better than the District 12 idiots you have to slum with.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Tigris says she misses you.”

“I miss her too.” 

You hum. “Tessa’s been learning how to play the violin. She’s finally given up on the guitar. Thank goodness for that, too. Ever since Lucy Gray’s interview she’s been non stop playing it, and it’s like nails on a chalkboard. The violin, on the other hand, is gorgeous.” 

“That reminds me, I’ve been going to this bar called The Hob with the other Peacekeepers, and as it turns out, Lucy Gray sings there.” You always knew it was a possibility he’d run into her again, but you hoped it wouldn’t be this soon. 

“Really?” 

“Mhm. She asked about you, and she seemed almost upset when I told her we were together.” 

You smile and bite your lip. “You told her we were together?”

“I tell everyone we’re together.” Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Wouldn’t want anyone coming for what’s yours, right?” 

You smile, though you have to swallow a lump that forms in your throat. “Yeah.”

You cherish every single phone call you have with Coryo. He’s been gone for a month and a half now, and you miss him dearly. The weekly calls you were able to secure were great, but it’s not the same as seeing him every day. 

You’ve found other ways to fill the void though. You still ate most meals with Tigris and The Grandma’am, but you also started to hang out with your sister more. You brought her shopping with you a few times, and she started playing songs for you as soon as she learned them. 

“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

You sit up straighter. “What is it?” 

“I think Sejanus is getting into some bad stuff..” You bite back the urge to say ‘Of course he is.’ “He’s been hanging around this guy named Billy Taupe. Whenever I ask about it he changes the subject.” 

“Well considering the arena...” You reply, coolly. 

“My thoughts exactly. What do you think I should do?” 

“Report him.” 

“I don’t have any proof, and I can’t go tell Commander Hoff, because he will tell Sejanus’s parents.”

You curse. “Yeah.. Yeah you’re right. I don’t imagine you have anything to record him with, do you?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” He sighs. “If he gets caught he’ll drag me down with him.” 

“Then make sure he doesn’t get caught.” You can hear a faint buzz from the other side of the line, and you frown knowing it means he has to go. 

“It’s time.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you next week. Goodnight, Coryo. Miss you.”

“Goodnight, I miss you too, Y/N.” The line goes dead and you put the phone on the receiver. The minutes following your phone calls with Coryo are always the loneliest. You hunch over with your hands over your face and sigh. 

You thought everything was perfect when Lucy Gray won The Hunger Games. Now you weren’t sure if anything would go to plan. 

“Y/N?” You glance at your bedroom door to find Tigris looking at you confused. 

“Hey. I forgot you were coming, ‘m sorry.” You rub your face. 

“I always come over on Fridays.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’m really not sure how I forgot.” You're occupied, that’s how. Occupied with the reality that maybe your life isn’t so perfect. 

“Did you just get off of the phone with Coryo?” 

“How’d you guess?” You glance at Tigris, her features haven’t changed much since the dark days. Back then, you dreamed big. You dreamed of a future where you and Tigris had your own fashion line, that you ate however much you wanted, of whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted; and that you were married to Coryo. It was actually Tigris’ idea originally, because she wanted you to be her cousin too. It took about two years after she initially suggested it for it to grow on you, but once it did, you never changed the plan. 

She sits down beside you. “You have that look on your face.” 

“Remember when we used to talk about the future together? How we’d have our own fashion line? Or how I was going to marry Coryo so we could be cousins finally?” 

Tigris laughs. “Yeah, that was forever ago.” 

“Yeah. It was.” 

Your best friend places a hand on your back. “There’s still time.” 

“Twenty years.” You lean into her. “Things are so different.” 

A few days later, on Monday,  you sit in the same spot, with the same red phone in your hand, and dial the same number. 

“Hello?” 

Hearing his voice never fails to put a smile on your face. “Hey Coryo. How’s everything going?” 

“Good actually. I took the Officer’s test yesterday.” 

“Really? That’s amazing, Coryo!” You breathe a laugh. “What happens if you pass it?” 

“If I pass I can start climbing the ranks, if I ever become a commander we could see each other again. Commander Hoff goes to the Capitol for meetings all the time.” 

“Seriously? You might actually get to come here?” Your voice is shakey. 

He laughs a little. “A little less enthusiasm, please.” 

“I’m sorry! I just.. I was coming to terms with the fact that we won’t be able to see each other in twenty years—“ 

“Do you not want to see me?” He interupts.

“Of course I do! Coryo, I’m over the moon.” You laugh. “This is amazing.” 

“I know. Tell Tigris for me?”

“Of course. She’s going to be so happy!” 

He chuckles. “I know. Also.. I got a recording of Sejanus.” 

“How? On what?” 

“Jabber jay. A messed up mutant that Dr. Gaul made. We were caging them when he started telling me about his plans.. so I recorded him, and I sent the bird off with the rest of them.” 

“Where are they being sent?” 

“Back to their creator.” 

“To Dr. Gaul.” 

“Will you tell her to expect something from me?” 

You smile. He trusts you. “Yeah. When’s our next call? I’ll make sure to do it before.” 

“No, I need you to do it now. The Jabber jays will be there tomorrow.”

You widen your eyes. “Okay.. yeah, I can do that.” You glance at the clock on your bedside table, if you’re going across town to speak to Dr. Gaul, you have to do it now. “I have to go now if I’m going to make it.” 

“Oh of course, thank you, N/N.” 

“Always. Miss you.” 

“Miss you too.” You hang up your phone and rush out of your room. 

As you put on your shoes at the front door, Tessa calls out for you. She sits in front of the coffee table beside your Mother in the sitting room.

“Where are you going in such a rush?” 

“I have to speak with Dr. Gaul.” 

Your Mother furrows her brows. “It’s so late. Can’t this wait till the morning?”

You shake your head. “It’ll be too late, it’s about Coryo.” 

Your Mom sighs. She’s known for a long time not to get in between you and the Snow’s, it never ends well. You’re hit with the memory of being fifteen and told that you couldn’t sleep over at their penthouse because your Father was having coworkers over for a big dinner, and in retaliation, pouring out every spice in the kitchen so that all of the food tasted awful. “Okay. I love you.” 

You open the door. “Love you too.”

“Be safe.” You nod and walk out. 

Your driver is waiting for you with your car at the bottom of the stairs. You spend half a second wondering if he just waits there for you, but then shake the thought out of your head. Why should you care? He’s being paid. 

“Take me to the Games’ building. I need to speak with Dr. Gaul.” The driver nods, and you give him a curt smile before lifting the privacy screen. You look out your window, taking in the Capitol. Sure, it was beautiful all the time, but at night, it was something else. The golden lights illuminating the streets, the people dressed to the nines, the dark blue sky that was once filled with stars— though not in your lifetime— now just an empty void with the moon in the middle. You feel compelled to smile as you absorb everything. 

The car slows as it comes to the front of the Games’ building. Your driver rushes out to get your door for you. As you step out, you look at the front doors, where Dr. Gaul stood. 

“Well, if it isn’t Mxs. Coriolanus Snow.” She greets.

You walk up to her. “Dr. Gaul, I’m here to bring you a message.” 

“Oh? And what would that message be?” 

“Listen carefully to the Jabber Jays from 12.” 

She looks at you incredulously. “12? I expect this message is coming from Mr. Snow, then?” 

“It does, but it’d be in your best interest to keep that to yourself.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “Was that a threat, Mx. Rose?” 

“No, of course not. Just… a suggestion.” 

Dr. Gaul smirks, crossing her arms. “It’s not safe to be out alone around this time.” She looks around. “Are you alone?” 

“No, I was driven here.” 

“Well, be driven home. We’re done here, Mx. Rose.” The woman looks you over before walking towards the parking lot. You turn around and walk back to your car, where your driver still stood holding your door open.

The next morning, you get up early and head to the Snow residence. Thankfully, it was the apartment connected to your own, so you didn’t go far. You don’t stop to knock, either, just walking in and going straight to Tigris’s room. 

“T?” You call out as you enter her room. 

“In the bathroom!” You go to your best friend’s bathroom, where she is taking her hair out of rollers. 

“Hello! Don’t you look gorgeous this morning.”

The blonde smiles. “Stop it! I don’t even have all my rollers out yet.” 

You reach up and start pulling one out carefully. “Coryo called me yesterday, he took an officer’s test.” 

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Well since he graduated from The Academy, he can get a job as an officer, and maybe eventually even a commander.” You place the roller down on the counter. “And if he becomes a commander, he’ll be able to make trips here.” Tigris’s neck snaps towards you. “He could see us again, T.” 

“You’re lying.” She shakes her head. 

“I’m telling you the truth, he’ll be able to come back.” 

Tigris grins and wraps her arms around you, pulling you in for a big hug. “This is the best news! I’m so happy!” She squeals, causing you to laugh loudly. Not at her, but with her. You’re both over the moon. 

Later, you and Tigris walk through your favorite fabric shop, your driver trailing behind you with your full cart. You pick a few yards of fabric, and you are still browsing. Tigris also picks out a fabric she likes, so you pile in some of that. 

“Do you think we’ll ever actually start our own line?” 

Not a beat passes before Tigris nods. “I have no doubt that we will.” She gives you a smile. “And you will be married to Coryo, and I will be married to some rich man, and we will be next door neighbors just like we are now but in bigger houses—“

“Don’t you mean mansions? Isn’t that how we always said it?” You ask with a smile.

She rolls her eyes. “The point is, our dreams will come true. I mean, you’re already with Coryo, that dreams come true. Why shouldn’t all of our other ones?” 

You nod, not utterly convinced. “It’s just.. me and Coryo get together, and a day later he’s banished from our home for 20 years. That seems like a sign.. right?” You feel crazy admitting that out loud. You’ve never believed in “signs”, just unfortunate fate, but this one is too big to ignore.

“Maybe it’s a sign that you guys can get through anything. Don’t give up on him, N/N, my cousin is stupid, but he loves you, anyone with eyes can tell you that. He’s not going to let anything get in between you, you shouldn’t either.” You bite your lip and nod. “Plus, when he becomes commander he’ll visit us. You just have to hold on a bit longer.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I love him too— you know that— I guess I’ve just been overwhelmed.” 

Tigris places a hand on your arm. “You don’t have to act like that with me. You can talk to me, N/N, you always have.” Her face is full of concern. 

You smile. “I know. I’m fine, I promise.” 

She smiles and nudges you. “Good! Now,” Tigris hooks your arms together. “What colors should our shop be? I’m thinking orange and red, Tigris and Rose, you know?”

 You grin. “That sounds perfect. Our first line could be fire themed, too.” 

Your best friend gasps. “That’s perfect! I can see the silhouettes now.” 

You give her a knowing look and nod. “Once I get out of University, let’s swear to start.” You offer her your pinky, which she wraps with her own in a swift motion. 

“Deal.” 

You and Tigris went to your home after you were done shopping. You sew for a while, and then eat dinner next door with The Grandma’am. 

You wake up the next morning with a sick feeling. Your gut is yelling at you, and you have no clue why. You lay in bed for half an hour before you get up to find your Mother, thinking that maybe she could give you morphling for the pain, but the second you leave your room, you’re so anxious to get back you feel like you're on the verge of a panic attack. You continue anyway, counting each step to ground yourself. 

It takes you 56 to finally find your Mom. She’s sitting in the library with a book, a different one from last night.

“Y/N? Honey, are you alright? You’re trembling.” Her voice  fills with worry. She immediately comes to her feet and stalks over to you. 

“Yes— Maybe. I don’t know. I-I woke up really.. scared? I need.. something, I don’t know.” You’re not sure you’ve ever sounded so pathetic. You feel so vulnerable. 

“Of course, come, I’ll give you some morphling.” She grabs your hand, and for the first time in a while, you’re grateful she’s so affectionate. She wraps her other arm around your back, and slowly takes you over to the desk in the middle of the library. Your Mother helps you sit down and then starts rummaging through the messy drawers. “I keep some in here for my headaches.” 

You nod. “You read a lot.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself.

She laughs. “Yeah.. nearly one book a day.” She pulls out a small vial, definitely smaller than what Dean Casca Highbottom drank from. “Bottoms up. It’ll only take a second to kick in.” You take it and quickly swallow the dark liquid, grimacing at the taste. This makes your Mother laugh again. “Better yet?” She asks after a beat.

At first, you go to say no, but then a warm feeling swarms your body and you can no longer feel the terror or vulnerability. “Yes, actually.” You smile. “Thank you, Mother.” You lean down and kiss her cheek, something that leaves your Mom glowing. 

“You’re very welcome. If you ever need any more and you can’t find any, let me know, I have some vials in my room.” You nod and stand up. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” You give her another smile before walking back to your room. As soon as you walk in, your eyes snap to your phone. The bright red plastic phone that has become your favorite thing since Coryo left, yet as you look at it, your heart starts beating fast. You can’t figure out what’s making it beat so fast, probably due to the morphling. 

You shake your head and walk into your closet, everything is red, black, or white. Your shirts, your pants, your shoes. You run your hand over the hanging clothing. You stop on your favorite shirt, pulling it out, and then grabbing pants that look the best with the white top. After you change, you toss your pajamas into the hamper, and then grab a pair of shoes, before walking into your room. You set the shoes down beside your sewing desk which you sit in front of. You start going through your notebook to find a design to work on. 

Hours pass, and before you know it, it's dark out. You stop sewing when you hear your Dad come home, a clear sign it’s 7:15, since he never comes any earlier or later. You slip on your shoes and stand up to stretch. With a sigh, you gaze at the dress you’re working on. It’s going to be beautiful when it’s done. You plan to give it to Tessa, thinking that the purple on the trim would compliment her skin. You pull it over your mannequin and pin it in place. 

You’re admiring your work in full scale when your phone starts ringing and your stomach drops again. You can tell that this is it. This is the reason you’ve been so anxious. You walk over and pick up the phone. 

“Hello?” You can hear music in the background, and lots of voices. The call is obviously being made from a public place.

“Y/N?” It’s Coryo. 

You smile. “Hey! How’re you calling so early? I thought that you could only call onc—“

“Listen very carefully, okay? I don’t have much time, so I need you to listen. Okay?” His voice trembles. 

You furrow your brows. “Okay.” 

“The rebels Sejanus was helping bought guns with the money he gave them. Last night, I had to shoot two of them.” You gasp. “One of them was the mayor's daughter.” 

“Oh Coryo..”

“And this morning Sejanus was hung for treason.”  You widen your eyes. 

“What?”

“The other rebel hid the guns, but if they find them, I’m dead, Y/N.” Tears pool in your eyes. “So.. I have to go.” His voice breaks. “Lucy Gray and I are leaving at dawn.” 

Something inside of you breaks. Your stomach hurts, you feel nauseous, and tears are falling from your eyes faster than you can stop them. You sit down on your bed. “Coryo.. What do you mean?” He doesn’t answer. “What do you mean?” Nothing. “Coryo?” Your voice breaks. 

“I’m so sorry.” Pain laces his voice. “I want things to be different. I want to be there with you, but Sejanus messed everything up, N/N. I’m sorry.”

“Y-You can’t… What about Tigris? The Grandma’am?” Your lungs feel heavy. 

“You’ll take care of them, I know you will.” 

A sob racks your body. “I-I can’t.. Coryo, please.”

“I love you.” The line clicks and you fall forward onto the ground. Sobs rack your body, one after one, until you can’t take it anymore, and you just scream. He’s gone. Coriolanus Snow, the man you thought you would marry, the man you grew up with, the man you loved more than anything, is gone. 

You don’t know how long it is before your parents run into your room and fall to your sides. You can’t hear them over your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t catch a breath, either. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see a servant ushering Tessa away. For a moment, you feel bad she’s witnessed you like this, but then you remember why you’re like this in the first place, and it doesn’t seem so important. You hold onto the phone tighter as you curl into the fetal position. Your Mother lays her body over yours, and your Father runs off. 

You stay like that for a while, you think. Just curled up under your Mother, screaming and hyperventilating. Coryo is your everything, and with one phone call, your world is shattered.  

Your Mother moves and Tigris crouches beside you, helping you to sit. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” 

No. No. You shake your head. The realization that you have to tell everyone is deafening. You stare at Tigris through your tears, the memories of the three of you together crushing you. You clutch your chest with your free hand before bringing your knees up to it. “Coryo..” Is all you can mumble. 

Her face drops. “What about Coryo? Is he okay?”

You nod, not wanting her to worry while you gather the strength to say more. “He’s..” You swallow a lump down. “Leaving.” Suddenly, you can hear a pin drop in the room. Everyone stopped moving, stopped breathing. 

“What?” 

You hold up your phone. “He called.. said he had to go.” 

A tear falls down Tigris’ face. “Did he say why?”

“No.” Is your immediate answer. Maybe it's a little obvious you’re lying, given the speed, but no one presses further. 

“So what.. he’s just going to try his hand at surviving out there?” She brings a hand to her forehead. “He knows nothing about the woods.” 

“Lucy Gray is with him.” Normally you’d be mad she was able to be so close to him, but honestly, you were happy he at least has her, a shot at surviving out there. 

Tigris seems confused. “They’re running away together?” 

Hurt swells in your stomach again. Were they? Was everything Coryo said to you a lie? You break down crying again. You’re disappointed about it, you hate crying, but it was foolish to think you were done mourning the love of your life after one good cry. “It’s not like that.” You shakily explain to her. “He wouldn’t—“ You interrupt yourself with a sob. Tigris wraps her arms around you and pulls you into her. You both lean back against your bed, holding each other, and crying. 

Hours later, Tigris sleeps peacefully beside you, her arm draped across your stomach. You were turned on your side, facing her, and quietly crying. As you look at her, you note all the similarities between her and Coryo. You think about how you will never get to see him grow old, how he will never become the President of Panem, how you will never get married to him.

You fall asleep sometimes around midnight, you dream of a life with Coryo. 

The next day, you stay curled up in your bed as Tigris goes to work. You get out of bed a few times to use the bathroom, but you have all your meals brought to you. Though, you barely eat anything. A few bites but that was it. You went in and out of consciousness, crying for a moment every time you woke back up to reality. You aren’t sure how you can sleep as much as you are right now. It seems impossible. But you do.

You hear your Father come home, and deja vu hits you like a brick. You glance at the clock, 7:23. 8 minutes late. Weird. You close your eyes again, hoping for more sleep, for more dreams of Coryo. But moments after, your bedroom door is opened and shut without a knock. You glance at the door and the breath is knocked out of you. It’s Coryo. 

He rushes over to you and scoops you up in his arms. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I don’t.. Coryo?” You start crying again, thinking that he has to be a hallucination. A sick trick your own mind is playing on you. “You’re not here.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck. It smells sort of like him, though. This is a really, really good trick. 

“I am, I’m here. I’m not leaving you again.” He pulls away from the hug and holds your face in his hands, a gesture so normal it hurts. “I’m here, okay?” 

You surge forward and kiss him, you can’t make up what you feel when you’re kissing him, joy like that can’t be forced, so when you feel it, you know he’s there. You gape at him when you pull away. “But I thought you had to leave?” You ask, forming a small smile, though tears still fell down your cheeks.

“I found the guns and destroyed them. And I passed the officer’s test.” He hesitates. “Yesterday Commander Hoff offered me a spot in district 2, I went back and took it. They sent me here instead and Dr. Gaul met me at the train station. She’s going to tell everyone I was in 12 as part of my internship.”

“Internship?” 

He nods. “Dr. Gaul offered it to me. I start next week.”

Your smile widens. “That’s.. I don't even have words, Coryo.” 

He smirks slightly. “Well, good thing we don’t need words.” He leans down and kisses you again. It's a long, sweet, kiss that you savor. When he pulls away, you’re left wanting more. “I meant what I said when I called you. I love you.” Butterflies erupt in your stomach, the ones only he can cause. 

You grin and wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you too.” You finally take him in, his  appearance has changed slightly. He’s wearing a white t-shirt with gray cargo pants, and his beautiful blonde curls have been buzzed. You bring a hand up to his scalp. “Your curls!” 

“I know, weird, right?” He smiles and brings a hand up to his head too. 

“A little bit, but you look so handsome anyways, I can hardly be sad.” You bring him in for another kiss, your favorite thing to do ever since the first one he gave you. 

For the first time in months, you don’t doubt that everything is okay. 

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Taglist: @ems-alexandra , @becauseseaotters

#coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #lucy gray x reader #tigris snow x reader

[winterrrnight]

BESTIE, CONGRATS ON 300 !! i’m so freaking happy for you. you deserve this so so much 🤍. i’m so in love with all of the fics you’ve written so far.

i’m here to request: meet me in the hallway. choose out of drew, rafe, & zach + a prompt.

ofc i’m gonna choose my bby zach with #29

i luv uuu 🤍

thank you so so much anna!! I love you so much, thank you for all your love and support <3 this request has me on my knees with how cute it turned out to be, I hope you love reading it!

a beautiful, drunken mess

PAIRING: zach maclaren x gn!reader

SUMMARY: your best friend needs to call your knight in shining armor when you get a little too drunk

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption

EDITH SPEAKS: OH MY GOD yes we're kickstarting my 300 celly fic requests!! I've gotten so so many requests and I swear I'm so excited to write each one of them. I got late to starting on these because my hectic schedule and my writer's block got the best of me, but I'm back :))

Please reblog if you liked this!! feedback is always appreciated 🫂

PROMPT REQUESTED: "you sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?" "of course."

300 followers celebration || navigation

You've never been one to party hard and get so drunk you can't see clearly in front of yourself. But when you finally pass some of the toughest exams you've ever had to give, you knew you wanted to party till you can't breathe.

And that's what you did. The biggest frat party happening in a rich kid's home from your university has adrenaline coursing through your veins as you don't think twice before taking a shot.

In fact, you got carried away so much, that your best friend Tessa who is literally known to be the biggest party animal in your whole university, is concerned for you.

"Give me that," she grunts, taking the millionth cup you were about to down. You pout, trying to get it back, but the alcohol has made your mind all fuzzy and you aren't very sure what exactly you're trying to do.

"Who knew you had this hidden side?" Tessa says, shaking her head as she takes your hand and leads you out to the garden of the big house. You try your best to stop her from dragging you, but your drunken power is no match for her quite sober one.

"Tess come on! I'm not done yet," you huff, your arms crossed across your chest as you see Tessa is basically blocking the door.

"Nuh uh, not today," she says, pulling out her phone. "You need to get home, like right now,"

You groan out loud, and you attempt to simply walk on the lush grass you're both standing at, but you greatly miscalculate your steps and fall on the grass, head first.

Tessa rushes up to you, asking you over and over if you're okay. You just look up at her and start giggling constantly.

"I'm okay," you say in between your giggles, your own mistake having you amused. Tessa sighs at you and quickly finds the contact in her phone she was trying to find, before you decided to take a fall.

She impatiently taps her foot, waiting for the person who's supposedly on the end of the phone to pick up.

"Hello?"

Finally.

"Zach hi!"

"Tessa, you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need you to come and get your... thing," she says, looking at you lying on the ground and looking up the stars as you hum to a melody.

Zach laughs on the other end. "What happened?"

"Too drunk, can't even see straight," Tessa groans. "You need to come over right now."

"I'm on my way."

Tessa lets out a sigh of relief on hearing those words. She turns towards you, and lets her hand out for you to grab onto.

"Come on, Zach is coming to pick you up," she says, helping you stand up, in a not so graceful fashion.

Hearing the word 'Zach' lightens a light bulb in your head. "Zach? Where's Zach? I need my Zach," you slur, trying to run around the garden, as if he's standing right there and you just can't see him. Tessa has a hard time but she finally catches up to you, firmly grips your hand to make sure you don't run off and do something stupid again.

"He's coming, okay?" She huffs out, holding onto you tightly. She's expecting you to throw some sorts of tantrum, to complain how your boyfriend actually is here and she's just hiding him on purpose, but instead, you only nod obediently.

Tessa hears footsteps approaching you both, and just as she turns around, she swears she could've have cried out of happiness.

Zach is standing there, looking at the two of them with a smile on his face.

"Zach!" You yell excitedly, as you run (or, try to run) to him. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Hey baby," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you on your lips. You sigh at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, your eyes fluttered close and a million butterflies prancing around in your stomach.

"Thank you Tessa, we'll be going home now," Zach acknowledges the girl standing at the back, letting you both enjoy your moment. She nods with a smile on her face and goes back inside to the rest of the party, and Zach leads you back out to his car.

He definitely has a struggle settling you in the car seat and buckling your seat belt, as you've never been this drunk before and it's also his first time taking care of super-drunk you.

But, he doesn't hate it or finds it to be a difficult task. You're sitting in the seat next to him, saying little cute things that have his heart racing.

"You're so cute Zach, you always take such good care of me," you pout, poking his bicep. He laughs at you, and you continue to praise him.

"You're just," you sigh, "perfect. I couldn't have someone as perfect as you."

You definitely weren't aware of what you were saying, but Zach knows you being drunk isn't the only time you'll say these words to him. You love to constantly drop little phrases to let him know you do appreciate him and every single thing he does for you.

Both of you being relatively a new couple, it does take a big toll on you both because you aren't used to saying or listening to such kind words so often, but you both also know you wouldn't want to share this with anyone else.

"We're home," he looks at you with a smile on his face, as he gets out of his car, runs up to your side and helps you out. With an arm looped around your shoulders to help you maintain your balance, he leads you in to your home.

He takes you in to your room, and gently lets you lay down on your bed. It's a bit of a struggle, but he finally gets you to remove your outfit and replace it with a more comfortable one.

"Thank you Zach," you say, as he tucks you in your warm duvet. He leans in to press a kiss to your nose, and makes a mental note to leave a glass of water and an advil on your bedside table before he leaves.

As he is about to walk out, you call him out and stop him from leaving.

"What happened?" He asks, his hand on the light switch.

"I, I need Arlo, can you find him please he isn't here," Zach is confused on hearing these words, but when he sees tears starting to brim in your eyes, he knows this Arlo is important.

"Arlo? Babe I'm afraid I don't understand," he asks you, walking closer to you.

"Can you check under the bed please?"

Zach isn't sure what he's looking for, but he'll do anything for you. He leans down on his knees and looks below the bed, and of course, he makes out a silhouette of some stuffed toy under the bed. He reaches his hand out to grab onto it, and when he sees it, he realises he knows exactly what it is.

For one of your first dates, Zach took you to your local city carnival. He was determined to get you a good toy from any game, just like any good boyfriend would (his words, not yours), and after loads of struggle, a lot of pennies and many comforting hugs and words from you, he finally wins you one.

It's a little brown colored dinosaur stuffed toy, and Zach had no idea how attached you would get to it.

"You sleep with the stuffed animal I got you?" He asks, handing it to you as you take it and brush off the dust off it.

"Of course, I love it," you smile, tucking in the dinosaur with you. Zach can't help but give you another kiss, gently caressing your cheek as his lips trace yours.

He leaves the room to get the water and the pill, and when he comes back, he sees you already passed out. Arlo is tucked safely under your arm, and Zach knows he can watch this for hours on end.

Because you're his beautiful, drunken mess, and he wouldn't want you in any other way. (Well, maybe not this drunk, but you know what he means.)

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

#zach maclaren #zach maclaren imagine #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren fanfic #zach maclaren fluff #zach maclaren fic #the other zoey #zach maclaren x gender neutral reader #zach maclaren fanfiction #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x yn #zach maclaren oneshot #written by edith! 🪄 #edith's 300 followers celebration! 🪄

[denaliwrites]

On the Brave Shit

Tenth Doctor x Genderfluid!Reader

Summary: Coming out is almost never easy, but with the Doctor everything is just a little bit easier.

Soundtrack: Bad Bitch by Tessa Violet

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Coming out. Some light anxiety. (I think it's light, anyway, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong!)

"Did you know," the Doctor started carefully, leaning back against the TARDIS console and crossing his arms over his chest, "that Time Lords and Time Ladies regenerate?"

You closed the TARDIS door behind you, tilting your head as you paced up to join him at the console. "Okay?" you said as you reached him. There was a touch of fear in your voice, but mostly you were just confused.

"See, when Time Lords are hurt... hurt badly. When they die. Instead of dying, they -- we -- well, we sort of just. Don't."

You were trying so hard to follow him. You really were. "You... don't die?"

"We... we change. The old us dies, sort of. We keep all the old memories and all that, but our faces change. We become someone new." He scratched at the back of his head, before the same hand trailed over to rest over his mouth as he looked at you. Watched you.

"... Oh. So... you're not... you're not dying, right?" you asked in muted panic.

"What? Oh, no! No. Not for a long time yet, I should hope."

The sigh of relief you released was dramatic.

"See, the thing is... all that to say. Well. One of my friends in school. The Historian, we called him. Well, he got hurt one day. Very badly hurt. He would've died. Is the thing."

You stepped closer to him, taking his hand in yours comfortingly. "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry."

"No, no -- none of that! That's not the point." When he saw your stricken look, he softened. "Thank you, though," he said reassuringly, though you were still utterly confused by all this. "See, when Historian changed, he... was no longer a he."

Oh.

How the fuck did he figure that out?

"I... I, erm... Oh." You weren't exactly sure how to process what he'd said. How to proceed.

"Humans are different, obviously," he said casually, though you could feel his eyes watching you, gentle and caring. "But... I think it's probably the same principle, essentially."

"How did you..."

"Know? Oh, well.. I notice things, you know. That's -- that's what I do. Notice things."

You swallowed in dread. "Like what?"

"Well, for one, you spend an awfully long time in the TARDIS wardrobe," he said with a playfully annoyed sigh. "I didn't think much of it at first, but then I saw you dressing up in, well..."

Oh. Oh, no...

"Anyway. The point is. I think you're neat. As you are. Whatever that means."

You felt a tear streak down your cheek, and the Doctor gave your hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Now that that's... you know. Erm. I've been calling you the one thing all this time. Is there anything else you wanna be called?"

You blanched, somehow not expecting him to A. be so chill with all this, and B. so willing to just go straight into it.

"Erm... yeah. I guess. Yeah. She, her, he, him... please."

"Applicable to presentation or regardless of?" he asked, and you felt another tear fall.

"Er... I think regardless of."

He nodded, pulling you to his chest in an impossibly gentle embrace. His lips pressed to the top of your head in a soft kiss, and his thumb wiped away your tears. "You're wonderful. And brilliant. And incredibly brave."

On your next adventure with the Doctor, you were pleased indeed when he effortlessly switched between pronouns, never missing a single beat, never faltering, never hesitating.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #queer reader #genderfluid reader #trans reader #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant

[cybertroniannugget]

What if… Sam had a sibling who is very chaotic!!!! And they survive through out the Bayverse movies and when they meet Hound, Crosshairs and Drift, how would those 3 react to the crazy lil human?!? ;-;

(Could you possibly add Optimus Prime and Bumblebee!?)

Okay this is the first ever request I answer, kinda nervous tbh.

Hope you like it, and thanks for requesting^^

It's called Haiku...

Also, I don't know what pictures to add lmao

About this fic: sfw, gn reader, takes place in aoe

901 words

Sitting in the passenger's seat, squished next to Shane, you look out the window.

Sure, it was uncomfortable, but there were only 3 seats for the 4 of you.

You didn't say anything though, after they had just lost their friend, complaining would be of no use.

So you watch the wide desert landscape going by.

A white truck drove by on the other side of the road, but you didn't pay that much attention to it.

That's when the truck you four were in started rumbling. At first you didn't know what was going on, but when the seats shifted back roughly, the worn down leather replaced by more comfortable fabric seats you kind of got an idea.

"A man of taste I see. Western Stars are pretty nice.", you complimented, after seeing the symbol on the steering wheel, before the autobot logo took its place.

You opened the window to take a look at the Prime's new altmode.

Red flames across the blue paintjob, and everything was just so shiny.

"I must say, you looking good Prime!", you laugh, sticking your head back in.

"It was awesome but it was insane!", you heard Shane yell out excitedly.

The Prime's deep voice echoed over the radio, calling for his Autobots.

"I wonder If I'll see Bumblebee again. I missed that guy."

"Bumblebee?", Cade asked.

"Yeah, he's an Autobot don't worry. He's no giant insect, if that's what you thought about."

The man just raised an eyebrow at you, making Tessa chuckle in amusement.

After a few more minutes of driving you all got out of the truck, after Optimus opened the doors for you.

"Your dad is nice, but he needs to relax a lil...", you whisper to Tessa.

"He sure does, but he's trying his best."

"Never doubted that, don't worry.", you add, nudging her arm gently.

Optimus transformed, being greeted by his bots.

"Mr. free leader of the galaxy. I knew you'd make it. I never doubted it."

"Just who are these guys...", you mumble, looking around.

The green one with what looks like a cape suddenly turned to point his guns at you.

"Oh okay, that one feels like killin today...", you say, raising you arms sarcastically.

When the biggest one started lifting his guns was when you started sweating though.

But having fate on your side, like always, Optimus stopped them.

"Thanks Prime, I thought I was done for this time."

"🎶...Survivor! 🎶", Bee's Radio echoed.

"What's he mean by that now?", Hound asked, adjusting his cigar.

"We go way back. I saw Megatron so many times already. He nearly killed me twice but meh, still alive and kicking"

"Wait, aren't you that human from the fight in-?", Drift turned to ask.

"Chicago? Yeah, I've been there. Threw a brick at Megs myself.", you interrupted, proud of your past actions, arms crossed before your chest. "I've been there since the beginning. When it was just about a pair of glasses from my crazy great grandfather."

"They have fought with us. They're the only human I know I can trust."

"Rude...", Shane mumbled under his breath.

"I mean, how'd a squishy survive all that?!", Hound asked into the round of Cybertronians and humans

"Who you callin squishy?! I'm not the big one here."

"Pff, that's just armor. I'm as fast as a horse!"

"Well first of, it's as healthy as a horse. And also, it's none of your damn business how I survived all the shit I've been through. Because honestly, I don't even know myself. Maybe I'm just lucky"

You shrug, looking up at Optimus, who's serious demeanor made your heart sink.

He's always been serious yes, but a kind soul. Always open for questions.

Now he's just, well... dark.

"Well, but I'm sure as hell gonna survive this, so when we startin?!"

"Enthusiasm, I like it.", Crosshairs mentioned, spinning a gun in his servo, before tucking in back into his belt.

"🎶Where have youuuu been?!🎶", Bumblebee sang over the radio.

"Oooh, Rihanna, you got some mad taste Bee!"

Sticking your hands into the pockets of your worn down jeans, you look up at the yellow and black bot, who's optics were fixed on you.

"Well, after Chicago I needed a new place to stay. So I applied to work in a different hospital. And it led me to Austin, Texas."

You laugh

"In the good ol' south", you say, mocking the southern accent.

"I think I like that one", Hound says, leaning back against a rock wall.

"They have what it takes, like sunset colors on blue,

strength guts and virtue.", Drift added.

"If this is another hiku I swear Imma blow you to shreds...", Crosshairs murmured, turning to walk away.

"It's called Haiku!", you correct him.

"What?", he mumbled annoyed.

"I don't care what it's called. I just want to leave this place."

"Well, I like it, thank you.", you say to Drift, smiling at the bot.

In this moment of peace, it was of course Crosshairs who needed to add something unnecessary.

"Nah, it's lame"

Without warning, Drift jumped at him, swords drawn, ready to attack.

"And I thought I was crazy...", you whisper to Bee, rolling your eyes.

The bot snickered.

"Lord may you give me strength to not make anyone here short circuit on purpose..."

You squint your eyes, thinking.

"I don't even know their names yet... Wow"

"🎶Still don't know your name🎶"

"Oh you're right tho Bee.", you laugh

#transformers x reader #request #bayverse drift #bayverse crosshairs #bumblebee #optimus prime #Bayverse Hound

[ghostlystyles]

𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

anthony lockwood x gn!reader

anthony lockwood can definitely be a drama queen

request: Hi, could you do an Anthony Lockwood x reader where the reader is extremely exhausted and ends up passing out during a mission and Anthony gets really worried about the reader? Thanks :D

tessa’s notes: thank you anon for sending in the first request i’ve ever gotten, i hope this is what you had in mind :)

warnings: fluff, swearing, blood, sleep deprivation, fainting, a bit of angst?, canon typical violence, comment if i missed any <3

word count: 1,5k

— YOU OPENED THE door of 35 Portland Row in the middle of the night for what had to be the twentieth time that month and saw a middle-aged couple standing on your doorstep. “Lockwood & Co?” the man asked. “Yeah, that’s us. How can we help you?” you yawned, leaning against the open door. “Our house is haunted and it’s keeping us up at night. We figured you might be able to help us.”

You led the couple towards the kitchen and made them a cup of tea. “Oi, get up! There’s people here!” you called and not long after your three friends joined you at the dining table.

“So, tell us about what’s haunting your house,” Lockwood started, placing his ankle on his thigh. He wore a black, graphic jumper, joggers and his hair was messy. Although liking it, you’d been begging him for months to lose the suit every once in a while and usually midnight was the only time you got to see it, so you couldn’t help but grin.

“Well— we don’t know. We know there’s two but we’ve never seen them, only heard,” the woman explained. “And what did you hear?” you asked, leaning your head onto your hands with your eyelids heavy.

“Just— knocks on the walls and, we constantly have this feeling of crippling anxiety and fear and— we always feel like we’re being followed,” the man answered in detail. “Okay, that sounds like a Type One, so you don’t have to worry. We could get the job done tomorrow evening.”

“We actually don’t have a place to stay, we assumed you could just get it done right away.”

“That— okay. It might be possible, but it will cost significantly more as it’s extremely last minute.”

“That would be great, thank you so much. Money’s not an issue, we’ll pay you any reasonable price.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with my partners, if you’ll excuse us,” Lockwood nodded professionally as the four of you got up and walked into the corridor.

“What do you guys think?” he asked. “I think I could do it, they’re only Type Ones,” Lucy shrugged. “Well, I’d prefer it if I had time to research, but I guess it could work,” George added, rubbing his eyes. “And you, Y/N?”

“I— yeah, sure. I reckon I just need a coffee and then we can get to work,” you yawned, leaning against the wall to support your legs. “You sure? You’re not sleeping well as it is and you’re starting to look like a ghost yourself,” Lucy frowned worriedly. “A friendly ghost, I hope, but it’s fine, it’ll earn us some good money,” you joked. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N, we should just tell them no,” George added. “Yeah, are you really sure? We can wait until the morning. We don’t owe those people anything,” Lockwood pitched in. “Yes, Lockwood! I promise it’s fine! It won’t take long anyway.”

— THE FOUR OF you slowly entered the house that belonged to the couple. “Lockwood and I will take the upstairs, you take the downstairs?” you whispered as you looked around cautiously. “You two gotta stick together, huh?” Lucy nudged you playfully. “Oh, fuck off,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. You always got the same response, but it just made sense. Lockwood had excellent Sight, and you were a pretty good Listener, George was average on all talents, but Lucy was an outstanding Listener.

“Does everyone have all their stuff?” Lockwood asked, with his hands in his pockets and you all nodded. “Okay, then let’s stop fucking around and get this done.”

Lockwood quickly walked up the stairs and you followed him, frankly a lot less quickly, as your limbs felt heavy on your body. “Y/N! You coming?” Lockwood stopped at the top of the stairs when he noticed you weren’t next to him anymore. “Yes, just give me a moment,” you muttered, stifling back another yawn. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Lockwood asked once more, his face coated in worry. “Yes, Lockwood, how many times? Just, stop worrying about me for a second!” you grumbled as you strolled further onto the first floor.

“I— Jesus, I was just making sure you weren’t gonna faint or something,” Lockwood muttered, slightly taken aback. "Wait, shh—," you whispered as you covered Lockwood's mouth with your hands. "I hear something."

You closed your eyes and focused, so you could hear the sound better. You heard the soft shuffling of bony feet and echoing sighs, but you couldn't quite tell where it came from. "I'm pretty sure it's a Stalker," you concluded. “Where is it?” Lockwood asked. “I don’t know… I can’t tell,” you said, you squeezed your eyes shut, but it felt like your head was stuffed with cotton. Likely because of the sleep deprivation, but you’d never admit that, of course. The two of you started walking in the direction of one of the rooms and warily looked around. You closed your eyes, but you’d lost the sound of footsteps.

“I think we chose the wrong direction,” you muttered and Lockwood nodded in agreement. You walked out of the room and back into the corridor, when you were suddenly overtaken by dizziness and a sick feeling. You halted for a moment and took a deep breath, but the feeling didn’t go away. Instead, black spots started filling your peripheral vision and slowly spread their way to the center of your gaze. “Lockwood… I don’t feel so good,” you trembled, before everything went black.

“Y/N!” Lockwood exclaimed as he heard your body collapse with the ground and he rushed over to you, cradling your face in his hands. “Y/N?” he croaked as he brushed your hair out of your face. After about half a minute, your eyes fluttered open and you saw Lockwood’s face hover over you. “Hi,” he gave you a watery smile and his expression shifted from anxious to relieved.

You slowly sat up and immediately felt like vomiting, as your limbs were aching and your head was pounding from the fall. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Lockwood whispered tenderly, “how are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts,” you said, when you felt something warm dripping down your cheeks. Lockwood’s gaze slightly shifted and he gasped when he saw the huge gash across your nose bridge. “What happened?” you winced, feeling the wound sting. “I don’t— you must’ve hit your head on the banister or something,” Lockwood worried with wide eyes, “we should take you to the hospital, that probably needs stitches.”

“No way! I’m not letting someone sew my skin like it’s a piece of fabric!”

“It’ll be okay, I promise. George, Luce and I wil be there the whole time and besides, it’s gonna leave one badass scar.”

— A TRIP TO the hospital and a fuckton of stitches later, Lockwood was carrying you bridal style down the streets of London. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get this injured on a Type One mission,” Lucy chuckled. “Be nice to me Luce, I fainted and smacked my head into a banister,” you laughed, hitting her shoulder. “I suggest we all just listen to me next time, because I get really scared when people faint,” George sighed. “Oh, you should've seen Lockwood, Georgie. He looked at me as if I was dying.”

“Look, in my defence, I didn’t know what happened. For all I knew, you could’ve had a knife in your back and were slowly bleeding out,” Lockwood scoffed. “I’m just kidding, it was very sweet of you,” you reassured him as you patted his cheek. “You’re always so dramatic,” Lucy smiled, as she nudged Lockwood with her shoulder and he gave her a side-eye. “Anyway, when we get home, you’re going to bed and you’re not coming out of there until I say so,” Lockwood started, looking down at you, “and I’m going to find those people and try to rake up the price by a lot, so we don’t have to open the door in the middle of the night again.”

“That seems like a good idea, I’ll go with you,” George said and Lockwood nodded approvingly. “Why did it take me nearly perishing at the hands of a fucking banister for us to realise that taking clients in the middle of the night is a terrible idea?” you laughed loudly, throwing your head back. “Aha! So you do admit that you very nearly died and I have the right to be concerned about you and your well-being!” Lockwood exclaimed as he slightly swung you, making you scream and tightly hold onto him.

Lucy caught George’s gaze and shook her head with a smile, “we really should’ve waited until the morning.”

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood blurb #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood fluff #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood & co #lockwood & co netflix #lockwood & co x reader #cameron chapman #x reader #x gn reader

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

i think you're onto something with the romance novels world and plot points needing to mirror the kind of outlandishness of the love story. bc the main characters are already inherently acting absurd just by falling madly in love in a month or whatever and then if you add in the contrivances of romance tropes, it starts to feel like whiplash trying to pretend the characters live in any sort of grounded "normal" world. Like when the author adds in a family conflict subplot where the MC is like in absolute shambles because her mom said something slightly passive aggressive at lunch. that reads as more jarring to me than like conflict being something ridiculous that her mom doesn't want her being a marine biologist bc they come from a long line of fishmongers. Give me absurd drama to match the over the top dialogue and character emotions, I knew it would be unrealistic it's a romance novel! I guess this applies more to romcoms, but the same would apply I think to an analogous serious scenario. Or at least that's my take on it

okay so having just finished genuinely the most boring romance novel I have ever read in my LIFE I'm going to expand on this a little so thank you for sending an ask that gives me such a great platform to do that

I personally generally prefer a romance that just gets fucking silly with it, like really outlandish. A Lady for the Duke (Alexis Hall) is obviously the dream, being a whole swoony historical trans-affirming fantasy, but contemporary fake relationship stories can also be fun in their sheer ridiculousness, like Love, Hate, and Clickbait (Liz Bowery), which I actually liked, and Unfortunately Yours (Tessa Bailey), which I did not like but was very funny. and let's not forget queen Helen Hoang's Bride Test, which has a premise that dances perilously close to human trafficking but all works out in the end!!!

BUT HAVING SAID THAT. I don't think that something needs to be totally implausible to be a good romance. two of my very favorites romance novels anywhere ever are Helen Hoang's Heart Principle (no one should be surprised Hoang is on her twice I adore her) and Akwaeke Emezi's You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty. both of these books are very grounded in reality but with very uncommon situations to heighten emotions and add urgency; in Hoang's case it's a character's adult autism diagnosis + death of a parent and in Emezi's case it's a very sudden and #problematic attraction coming out of absolutely nowhere. the stakes are very real, mostly centering around being true to yourself v disappointing your family, but the circumstances are still wild enough to make you say "god DAMN" and keep turning pages. hell, I'll even be extremely generous and include Mistakes Were Made (Meryl Wilsner) which is kind of a flop but does have the intriguing premise of "what if you were fucking a milf but her kid was YOUR BEST FRIEND and it was a secret?"

those are like the two sweet spots TO ME, and this book I just read (which was Thank You for Sharing by Rachel Runya Katz, I feel so bad putting it on blast but I know people are going to ask) really solidified it for me because TYFS didn't fall into either of those categories. I'm going to say something absolutely insane, which is that multiple times while I was reading it I found myself wishing that the book was fanfic, because on its own it just... didn't bring a lot to the table? it falls into the grounded category but doesn't really bring any of those heightened stakes to the story, it's just 330 pages of people in their late twenties complaining about dating and their office jobs. if I wanted that I could just ask my group chat! there's nothing particularly particularly gripping about watching made up strangers do it!

but then I was like oh hang on... if this was two fictional characters who are usually fighting with swords or throwing cars at each other or something this would be so gripping. it's literally the coffee shop AU principle, right? like seeing people in a very mundane setting having an office job and going to a bar is very shrimpteresting when they're normally defusing space bombs. I was explaining this to my housemates and I couldn't think of a straight couple to apply it to (the book is m/f) so I said Naruto and Sasuke, which is crazy because I've never seen a single episode of Naruto, but like. idk Naruto being a museum curator who has to work with Sasuke, a marketing specialist who he had beef with a summer camp 14 years ago, sounds kind of compelling, right? definitely more than just two people I don't know.

there's a post on here that I think about a lot that talks about why advertising a story with tropes doesn't work for original fiction as well as it does for fan fic because knowing the tropes is more helpful when you already have a sense of investment in the characters and their personalities, and I think this is related to that! I think sometimes you NEED to have a wider sense of scope for the characters for them to be interesting in a very mundane setting!

ANYWAY. much to consider, etc.

#bookblr