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quintinh43 · 1 month
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Fucking Canada | Luke Hughes
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Summary: Luke is out with an injury, Y/n is on break from school. Obviously, the only logical thing is for them to head down to Vancouver to visit Quinn.
Pairings: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Meantions of Anxiety, Drinking (drink responsibly kids), Some light suggestive content. Use of the name Mariana. Let me know if I missed anything!
Wc: 4.9k
This one's for @toasttt11, stay awesome 🫶🏼
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Luke had been been out with an injury for a week. And it was driving him insane. He had begged and begged the trainers to at least allow him on the ice with the team. He'd batted his long eyelashes and given them puppy dog eyes and the famous Hughes pout, yet somehow they resisted and firmly told him he was not to touch a pair of skates until after his two-week check up.
And that was only if his check-up came back all ok. So in his boredom, he flew down to Michigan to spend time with you, and then decided that as soon as your break started he was flying both of you down to Vancouver for the week, because fuck he missed his big brother.
He rolled his wrist around in its brace, and you smack him in the chest. "Stop doing that. You're gonna aggravate your wrist and make it worse."
"Baby, I swear its fine," he whined, "The trainers don't know what they're talking about."
You snort, and grab his arm, pinning it beneath your torso, being careful to ensure that the strained part of his wrist was not under you.
"Baby, please," he whined, tugging his arm gently. "Let me up,"
"Only if you promise to stop rolling your wrist." You glare.
"I promise" Luke mumbles shifting towards you to run his lips along your jaw. Your stomach flutters, pink dusts across your cheeks, and you let him go immediately. He leans on his elbows and kisses down your neck.
"Luke" you whisper breathlessly.
"Hmm" he hums, nipping at the sensitive skin along the column of your troat.
You bite your lip, debating telling him off. But kissing Luke is much much better than studying physiology, and you haven't had a break in a while. You slam your textbook shut, and all but kick it off the bed.
"You're such a menace," you huff, he wraps his uninjured arm around you, and drags himself fully on top of you, kissing gently down your neck.
"You know you love me," he grins.
"You're lucky I do, Hughes. Now get back to kissing me,"
"Yes ma'am," he chuckles, lips dancing along your collarbones.
There's a knock on your door and before you can tell whoever it is to fuck off, your roommate and best university friend; Mariana barges in.
"Enough sexy time, kids!" she says, ignoring the murderous glares both you and Luke throw her way, "If you still want a ride to the airport, we are leaving in ten." She walks out, leaving the door open. You sigh, nudging Luke with your shoulder, to get off of you. He pecks one last kiss to your cheek and rolls off you, pulling you to your feet so the two of you can get all your things together.
You slide your laptop into your bag, grab all your chargers, and make sure you have an extra set of headphones. Because God knows the worst thing that could possibly happen is being stuck on an airplane with no muisc. After double and triple checking that you have everything, Mariana ushers you out the door hurriedly.
The ride to the airport is nothing special. You and Mariana sit in the front while Luke is banished to the back. You stretch an arm back to hold his hand, and he leans his head on your seat to be closer to you.
"Have fun in Vancouver Babe," Mariana says giving you a tight parting hug, and kiss on the cheek.
"Better take care of my girl Hughes, or I'm coming for that other wrist" She threatens, giving Luke a hug. Luke laughs, patting Mariana's back.
"You know it, Mari," he grins, winking at you.
"Text me when you land, ok?" She says, squeezing your shoulder.
"I will. Thanks for the ride, Mar." You hive her one last squeeze goodbye and take Luke's hand as you head through the airport.
Everything goes smoothly, thank God, and soon you and Luke are boarded the plane. It's a fight over who takes the window seat. You think Luke should have it cause he has longer legs, and Luke thinks you should have it because you deserve the best seat.
After convincing Luke that as long as you're sitting beside him, you do have the best seat, he reluctantly takes the window seat. And makes sure to tell you that if you want to switch at any time, just tell him.
You nod, knowing that you absolutely won't be doing that, but what Luke doesn't know won't hurt him.  You're set to arrive just before Quinn's game tonight, which means that the two of you won't get to see him until later. After going through your mental checklist, making sure everything is organized, you stick your headphones in and rest your head on Luke's shoulder and promptly pass out.
Luke is shaking you awake gently when it's time to get off the plane. "Wake up, Baby, it's time to get going," he says softly.
You sigh, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, "Alright lets go,"
You grab all of yours and Lukes belongings from the overhead compartment, much to his dismay. "Baby, let me help,"
"Luke Warren, I swear if you touch any of this luggage with that wrist, I'll chop it off," you say sternly. You hand him his backpack, and he slings it over his shoulder with a pout.
You grab his injured hand gently, lacing your fingers together as best as you can with his brace on, and head off the plane. As you step into the Uber, both your phones buzz with a text from Quinn.
Q: I left a key for you guys with the front desk, Luke just has to show some ID.
Q: You guys are coming to the game right?
Luke: Yep, excited to see you Q
You: Were just heading to your place now, to get settled and then we're on our way. See you soon!
Q: Excited to see you guys too.
You arrive at his apartment, and Luke shows his ID to the front desk, and they hand over the key. Quinn's apartment is nice, but it's so clean. It looks like a place out of a modern decor magazine, except for the photos of his family scattered here and there.
There's a two jerseys folded neatly on the bed with a sticky note that says 'Don't be a little bitch' on top. "Nope" Luke says as he immediately lays eyes on it, "I'm not wearing that, nither are you."
You roll your eyes at him, but don't argue. It makes sense that he wouldn't wear it. Players have a thing about not wearing another franchises merchandise. He unzips his suitcase and pulls out two black hoodies with white stitching that says Hughes 43 on the back. Except if you look carefully, the devils logo is stitched on the sleeve.
You shake your head with a smile and take the hoodie from him. "Let me just change into something better, and we'll head out."
Luke nods, digging around for a pair of jeans for himself.  The two of you make quick work of changing, and then you're on your way to the game. Quinn, smartly left the tickets under your name, lest someone spill the beans that Luke Hughes is in Vancouver to watch his brother play.
Your seats are right by the glass. When Quinn notices you, he skates over, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Bitches" he mouths with a smile, as he takes in the lack of Canuck blue in your outfits.
You grin and flash him a heart with your fingers while Luke flips him off, making sure he can see the devils logo on the sleeve. Quinn shakes his head at Luke and skates off to finish warm-ups.
Thankfully, no one really takes note of the interaction. Luke has a cap pulled low, so unless someone is really looking for Luke Hughes, then he shouldn't be recognized. The atmosphere is electric. Canadian hockey really hits differently.
The game is nerve-wracking, and for most of it, you and Luke are on the edges of your seats, grabbing at eachother hands, and slapping eachothers knees in excitement whenever something particular exciting happens. And when Quinn picks up a goal, the two of you are jumping and screaming.
The game ends with a canuck win, and as you two make your way down to the locker room to greet Quinn, you're chattering excitedly about all the good plays that were made. Especially Quinn's. He picked up a goal and three assists, making him the top point scorer of the game.
As he walks out of the locker room, he can't keep the smile off his face as he lands eyes on you and Luke. As much as he doesn't mind being on his own, seeing his family is always the best. You've been around the Hughes boys since you were growing up. From Toronto to Michigan. Your family's were really close and still are to this day.
He pulls you into a hug first, "Good to see you Y/n" he says, patting you on the back.
He goes to hug Luke, and in true brotherly fashion, he can't help but make a jab at him as does so. "I swear to God, you get taller every time I see you." Rather than standing on his tip toes to throw his arms around Lukes neck, he hooks his ankle around the back of Luke's knee and Luke's knees buckle.
Quinn catches him in a hug before he can hit the floor. You and Quinn are laughing, while Luke grumbles. He snatches Quinns hat off his head, making his hair stick up in every which way and holds it as high as he can. Quinn rolls his eyes, not taking the bait, and starts to walk.
Luke huffs and throws his hat back at him. "How did y'all get here?"
"Uber," you say, throwing an arm around Luke's waist as you walk. He drapes his arm around your shoulder, fingers brushing patters against your shoulder.
"The team is going out to celebrate. Do you guys wanna join, or do you want a ride home first?"
"Well, come with," Luke smiles, "Good game, dude, you made some nasty moves."
Pink dusts Quinn's cheeks, and he changes the conversation. "How's the wrist?"
Luke rolls his eyes, and before he can roll his wrist, you glare at him. "It's completely fucking fine."
"It's not" you say
"The trainers don't know what they are talking about." He mutters.
"They do" You add poking luke in the side.
Quinn scoffs, "Yes, im sure the people whose literal job it is to treat your injures don't know what they are talking about."
Luke pouts, "I can't believe my girl and my brother are ganging up on me like this,"
"Well, maybe if you weren't so stubborn." You and Quinn say simultaneously, looking at each other with a grin.
Luke grumbles unintelligiblly and Quinn throws his bags in this trunk. Luke takes the front seat, and this time, he's the one reaching his arm back to hold your hand. You smile, lacing your fingers together. Quinn rolls the eyes at the two of you with a smile.
The drive to the bar is filled with the light chatter of the three of you catching up about life. Unsurprisingly, Quinn has nothing interesting happening in his love life. The man eats, breathes, sleeps, and lives hockey. Luke teases him about becoming an old spinster while he glances at you lovingly. No doubt envisioning the magnificence that your lives will be together.
The bar is absolutely packed. Not surprisingly. It's a Friday night and the Canucks won. Some of the team is already there, in a roped off Vip area. They wave Quin over urgently. He grabs your hand and you grab Luke's so as not to get separated in the crowd of drunk people.
Quinn greets his teammates with hugs and back slaps and inside jokes. Some of them grin at you and Luke, wiggling their eyebrows at you and dragging Luke into hugs.
"So why are Mr. And Mrs. Huggy Jr. Here?" Brock asks, swirling the liquid in his glass.
Luke smiles at that, tracing his finger over the back of your left ring finger. "Luke is out injured, and I'm on a break from school," you shrug, playing with Luke's hand in yours.
"I'm going to get a refill," Luke hums, kissing the tip of your ear as he detangles himself from you, "want anything?"
"I'm good for now, baby," you say, kissing him on the cheek. When you turn back to the guys, they are all leaning close to you, batting their eyelashes like a group of High-school girls waiting to hear the latest drama about your crush.
Petey is the first to speak, "So when is he proposing?"
Millsy slaps him in the back of the head, "How is she supposed to know when he's proposing dumbass?"
"That man is so fucking whipped for you," Brock smirks, and you can't help the blush that colours your cheeks.
"You guys will have some cute babiess," Garland grins, just the slightest bit tipsy.
"Alright, alright, leave her alone. That's my sister-in-law you're bullying" Quinn says, coming to your rescue. He throws an arm around your shoulders, squeezing gently.
"You ok?" He asks quietly, the guys already forgetting the previous topic of conversation.
"Yeah, thanks Quinn," you smile, squeezing his hand back.
"Well, I'm absolutely beat, so I'm gonna go home. Do y'all wanna stay, or are you ready to head home?"
"We'll stay I think, me and Lukey are having fun, and I have yet to drag him to the dance floor. Are you ok to drive home?"
"Yeah, I haven't been drinking," Quinn says, smiling softly at your concern for him. "Sorry to leave y'all hanging."
"Don't worry about it, Quinn, we'll see you tomorrow. You played a good game, go get lots of rest," you smile, wrapping him in a quick hug.
He hugs you back and turns to address the guys. "I'm heading out if anyone wants a ride," Before the sentence fully leaves his mouth, Petey is practically throwing himself at Quinn. He stumbles into the two of you, and you both reach out to make sure he doesn't eat the floor. "I drank too much," he mumbles.
You laugh, patting his back, as Quinn stabilizes him. "I'm making you do bag skates next practice," Quinn says with entirely too much joy, as he practically half carries Petey out of the bar.
With Quinn gone, you dip out of the Vip section to find Luke, you spot him sitting at the bar, cheeks flushed, empty shot glasses littered suspiciously close to him. He's holding another glass that looks like soda, and there's a girl leaning much to close to him. He's leaning back slowly, looking very unimpressed.
Until he spots you. His megawatt lady killer smile appears as he all but pushes the other girl out of the way, and practically sprints to you, as well as someone can sprint in a crowded bar. Your hands rest on his arms, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath.
"Luke, are you ok?" You ask concerned, eyes flitting across his face, "have you been drinking?"
"Y/n!" He is way too giddy to be sober, "I know we said, we weren't drinking, but then I was sad about my wrist and someone said that the alcohol would make me feel better, so drank a little teeny tiny shot, and then another one cause somone got me another one, and then this group of girls asked me if I wanted to do shots with them, and I was gonna say no, but then they already ordered the shots and then-"
You cut off his drunk rambling, your voice laced with concern. "Luke baby, do you remember how many shots you took?" You ask, the calmness of your voice not giving way to the absolutely disastrous thoughts swimming in your head.
"Four, I think!" He grins, trying to count the glasses that were littered on the bar top in front of where he was sitting. There were five. Your eyes widen almost comically. He was barely gone for half an hour. He took five shots of straight alcohol in less than half an hour. Fuck.
Now it wasn't as if Luke hadn't drank before, undoubtedly he had. But definitely not that amount of alcohol in that span of time. Plus, it wasnt really recommended for professional athletes to drink anyways, so the amount of alcohol he'd consumed since the beginning of the season probably didn't even equate the amount that he'd drank tonight alone. Double Fuck.
And on top of all of that, Quinn had already left. "My wrist feels so much better!" Luke says happily, "I can take off my brace!" As he reaches for straps on his brace, you grab his hand.
"Absolutely not Luke." You lace your fingers with his to keep him from taking off his brace while you try to figure out what to do. Before you know what's happening, there's another full shot glass in front of you, and Luke is knocking it back. Triple Fuck.
"It burns," he pouts, shaking his head like he just ate something sour.
"Luke, how did you even get alcohol? we're underage!" The disbelief is evident in your voice.
The bartender hears your statement and decides that he'd better clear up that misconception before he gets into some kond of trouble. "No ma'am," he says, leaning over the counter. "I checked his ID, says he's twenty, that's legal"
Suddenly, you are very pissed that the bartender is telling you how old your own boyfriend is. Just as you're about to snap at him for clearly not being able to to his job correctly, if he thinks twenty is legal, you remember that you're no longer in the States.
You're in Canada. Fucking Canada. Racking your brain, you try to recall the legal age in British Columbia. You feel so stupid. It's nineteen. Ninteen year olds are legally allowed to drink in B.C. Luke is twenty. Fuck fuck fucking fuckitty fuck.
Before you sprial into a full-on panic, you take a deep breath. Luke is drunk out of his mind, and he needs to get home now, and you panicking will not help the situation. You slap your card down on the bar top and tell the bartender to close Luke's tab.
You don't trust Luke to be left to his own devices, so you sling his arm around your shoulder and half drag him to where you left your phone and purse with Brock. You gently guide Luke to sit on one of the chairs. He does so shakily and wraps one arm around your chest, pulling you flush against his body.
His knees are squeezing your hips, his fingers are tracing over your collarbones, and his face is tucked against your neck.
"Woah! is Huggy Jr. drunk?" Brock asks, grinning madly as he hands you your phone and purse.
"In the span of time that he disappeared, he took six fucking shots" you grumble, as you order an Uber to get home.
Brock almsot chokes on his drink. He stares wide eyes, "oh so he's fucking blackout," he takes his phone and snaps a photo of you and Luke. The glare that you send him is so murderous that if looks could kill he'd be six feet under.
"Sorry," he shrugs with a shit eating grin that says he's not sorry at all, "I need some proof of this for when he wakes up hating his life tomorrow."
"Alright, well, at least send it to me." You grumble, Brock laughs, and your phone buzzes with a notification from him immediately after. "And hey, please don't tell Quinn anything right now. He's probably home and in bed by now, and I don't wanna stress him out unnecessarily."
Brock nods, "Don't worry, kid, my lips are sealed." He sighs like an older brother, "if I was sober, i'd be driving you home."
"Oh Brock, don't worry about it. You guys had great games, and you deserve to celebrate. We'll be fine, I promise," you smile. Your heart melts a little, you've only met the canucks a few times but from the instant that you did they treated you like family.
"Alright, alright, just let me know when you're home safe, I'll feel much better."
"You got it, Brocky," you smile, standing on your tip toes to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. Brock grins like a school boy who just got a kiss from his crush. Thankfully, drunk Luke doesn't decide to make an appearance. Otherwise, he might have absolutely decked Brock in the face.
Not that he would've succeeded, based on how drunk he is. You're almost sure he's fallen asleep. Until his lips start moving against your neck. Quadruple fuck. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud as he nips at your throat with so much care you'd think he was fully sober.
His fingers start to make patterns along your collarbones, dipping lower toward the curve of your breasts. You don't want him to stop.
"Luke," you whisper desperately, laying your head atop his gently.
His hum of response reverberates against your skin, and pleasure melts down your spine, stomach fluttering.
"Luke," you try again, voice strained as his teeth screen against the sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder, "not here baby, we're in public."
" 's go home" he murmers into your skin, "wanna fuck my pretty girl."
Your cheeks go red faster than you thought possible. What a time to find out Luke is a horny drunk.
"Luke," his name is a prayer on your lips. The fingers of his injured hand burn as they press into your waist.
" 'm starvin for you baby," he mumbles, the tips of his fingers brushing under the waistband of your jeans.
Heat coils in your stomach, and you bite your lip to keep a whimper from spilling from your lips. As if some Devine power is on your side, you get a notification that your Uber has arrived.
"Our ride is here." Your voice is practically a squeak.
"Want you to ride me." Luke says, and you can feel his lips turn up into a smirk against your skin. You have to cover your mouth with your hand. Luke chuckles darkly. "Pretty girl has to cover her mouth so everyone doesn't know what a dirty girl she is." he hums nosing at your neck. If you're here any longer, you might actually combust. You make sure you have everything because you can quite literally never return to this bar every again.
You help pull Luke out of his chair and drape one of his arms over your shoulder. You wrap your arm around his waist to keep him steady. "Gonna eat you up when we're alone," he mutters, his grin all teeth. He's so fucking beautiful it makes your troat go dry.
You're blushing like a school girl as you help him out of the bar. He's leaning most of his weight on you while he whispers dirty things in your ear. You're surprised that you even manage to get him out of the bar on your own, mainly because his comments are making you weak in the knees. And partially because he's a 6'2, 185-pound man.
You successfully get him into the backseat and give the driver Quinns address. Thank God he lives close. A ten minute drive at most. But unfortunately for you, it feels like hours.  Because Luke had been very perceptive as to how his advances were making you react and continues them with no mercy.
"So pretty f' me" he mumbles, hand trailing up your thigh, lips fluttering over your neck, "gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?"
"Not here, Luke," You whisper, grabbing his hand. You kiss the back of his knuckles and looks at you with such desire in his eyes it takes every ounce of self control not strip and let him fuck you in the back seat of this random car. Your eyes flick to the driver and you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, and say a prayer for forgiveness as your lips trail up his hand.
You close your lips over two of his fingers, and he groans, his head falling against your shoulder. "Gotta be quiet, baby," you murmer, squeezing his knee with one hand before closing your lips back over his fingers.
"m' quiet, m' quiet," he murmers against your neck. Then he's grinding his hips against yours, and there's a whimper caught in your throat. The car comes to a stop in front of Quinns building, and you are hopping out of the car like it's on fire and dragging Luke out behind you.
He stumbles into your back, an arm wrapping around your waist, his lips reattach to your neck, and you can't help the moan that slips out. As soon as the elevator door shuts, Luke pins you to the wall with a knee between your legs, and you drag him down for a desperate kiss.
He tastes like alcohol and cinnamon and home. And you never want to let him go. Then he's hissing with fire, a yearning, pleading fire as he grinds his hips against yours. All you want to do is let him have his way, but he's so so drunk. And no matter how many years the two of you have been dating, and how many times you've slept together, you made your decision way back at the bar that you wouldn't go further than kissing and grinding.
The elevator opens on Quinns floor, and the two of you stumble out. You pat your pockets for the keys to his apartment, and fuck- they aren't there. They must have gotten left in his car on the way to the bar.
You knock on the door nervously. One hand wrapped around Luke's waist, and the other braced against his chest. His uninjured hand is tracing up and down your side and in a way that makes it hard not to squirm as he places tender kisses along your jaw.
Quinn opens the door, looking oh so tired, a toothbrush hanging half out of his mouth. Clearly, he didn't expect you back so soon. His eyes go wide at the sight in front of him, and he resists the urge to gag, lest his toothbrush fall out of his mouth.
"Whad da fack!" He exclaims, spitting into the kitchen sink and closing the apartment door behind you. "Is he drunk?"
"Yes, just let me get him into bed, and I'll explain," you say urgently.
"Only going to bed if you're coming with me," he murmers, squeezing your hip, "need m' pretty girl."
"Do you have advil?" You ask Quinn, ignoring Luke's statement, Quinn wisely chooses not to comment as he grabs advil and a glass of water.
You deposit luke on the bed, huffing from his weight. He pulls you down with a smirk. "Wait, baby, let me get your clothes," you say quickly.
Luke wiggles his eyebrows and lets you undress him. You strip him of his jeans and t-shirt leaving him in his boxers. "Be good and drink this for me," you say, sliding the advil into his mouth.
"I'm good for you, baby," he mutters after he swallows.
"So good for me," you assured as he slipped under the blanket. As soon as his head hits the pillow, his eyes are fluttering. " 'm tir'd."
You stroke his hair back from his forehead softly. "I know, baby, I know,"
"Still want you," he pouted.
"I know, baby, and you'll have me tomorrow. It's sleep time now, ok?"
"Mm'kay," he mumbles, barely audible. You stroke his hair and mutter sweet nothings to him as he falls asleep. You change into a pair of sweats and one of Luke's devils' hoodies before shutting the bedroom door with a quiet click.
Quinn is sitting on the couch, with two mugs of steaming tea. You flop onto the couch, leaning your back against the armrest and tucking your feet under his legs. He hands you a mug of tea, and you take it gratefully, holding it close to your face and letting the steam warm you.
"So what the fuck happened?" Quinn questions.
"After you left, Luke still wasn't back and I went to find him, I don't know what really happened on his end, but he said he was sad about his wrist, and someone convinced him alchool would make it better." You sigh, taking a sip of your tea.
"Anyways, by the time I got him, he had had six shots in the span of a half hour."
Quinns eyes practically bulge out of his head. He looks like he's running calculations in his head, and his jaw drops. "I know," you grimace, "I'm sorry, I should've watched him better, I knew he wasn't happy about his wrist, and I let him -"
"Hush, Y/n, it's not your fault. He's a big boy he knows what he's doing." Quinn says softly, drawing you into his arms.
"How did he even get drinks?" Quinn asks, "He's not 21."
"It's Canada," you mutter like that explains everything. And to Quinn, it does explain it all.
"Fucking Canada" he mutters shaking his head.
---
Hi guys!! I was very excited while writing this, so I hope y'all like it. Comment comment comment! I love comments, I wanna hear all your thoughts! They always make my day a bit brighter.
On that note, I'm going on a bit of a writing break for a week-ish cause schools getting a bit busy with midterms and final papers and whatnot. I'll still be active, tho (unless i feel like it's distracting, then I might fall off the face of the earth for a bit).
Anyways, with that, I hope y'all have a lovely, lovely evening. Love Soph ♡
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matryosika · 3 months
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so when was i supposed to find out that hyuNJIN HAS A FUCKING HAPPY TRAIL?! '? *? #? $?? $?'? $? $? $?
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thranduilofsmirkwood · 9 months
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If Thranduil was Thranduil's guardian angel:
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Vincent Price and Mildred Natwick - ELIZABETH THE QUEEN, a play produced at Mt. Kisco's Westchester Playhouse (1937)
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starqueensthings · 6 months
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prev | next
Inner Conflict: “No, Howzer, ‘some’ isn’t good enough. I want all of Syndulla’s supporters found.” [ … ] “But, sir, if we continue rounding up peaceful citizens, it will incite an uprising.”
ragu slurpers: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dystopicjumpsuit @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @secondaryrealm @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @jediknightjana @drafthorsemath @littlemissmanga @moonlightwarriorqueen @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @vithepotato @rabbitstu99
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kriimhild · 2 years
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We gone too far #1
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The boys are up to something. 
Pages: 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11
Uncut version:
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anonfromtheflight · 2 months
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I know Omar and his team (and his friends) are all probably nursing their respective hangovers today but I'm going to need them to drop the HD videos of Omar's concert really soon, I feel like I'm losing my mind 😩 There are so many moments I need to see in the highest resolution possible with Omar's clear vocals???? Like you don't even know!!
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number one worst face arthur pendragon has ever made.
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looking-for-orion · 9 months
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YOU GUYS
It's THEM
(you already know, art by the incredible indescribable remarkable etc etc @vkelleyart)
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moplayspoke · 4 months
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Day 46 of Fourth Wing / Iron Flame hangover
I opened Powerless today. Writing pulled me in immediately until about the 2nd page in where my eyes just glazed over and my thoughts trickled back to Xaden-fucking-Riorson.
I stopped and immediately opened my graphic audio part 1 of Fourth Wing.
There is no escape. There is only cope.
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julemmaes · 3 months
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Me patiently waiting for the editors to drop their masterpieces after I just witnessed the best episode the pjo fandom will ever see:
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kissmizmf · 1 month
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Pooker pook pookie, pookie pook pook
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achasks · 7 months
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I want you all to say the word "fuck" right now.
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C'mooon Frisk. You know you want to!
no
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elliespeach · 10 months
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out of the thousands of ellie edits i’ve been consuming lately this one takes edit of the week 🫡 idk how many times i have to say I NEED HER before the universe answers my prayers
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Vincent Price - The Bat (1959)
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Fun fact! Upon rereading the rb tfwiki page, Griffin Rock is officially where the mainland sends advanced prototypes to test it, so yay! No wonder the tech is so unpredictable, Unicron's favorite island is officially a government testing ground (a big reason why the rescue bots were sent there lol)
Also I've mentioned this before but Griffin Rock has so many oddly coincidental geological features. The absurd amount of gold under the island apparently, the massive and consistent tunnel system, the ISLAND WIDE vein of reactaline cupping the island, quantum crystals (fun fact the majority of the time you see the word quantum in science fiction it's 100% used as a bullshit random science word), and a strangely easy to find amount of energon. Now, the dinosaurs can be explained by the tunnels (though i have so many gripes about the dinosaurs and the fact that there's an entire ecosystem down there working with no sunlight??? How are those plants alive???) The artificial volcano is sadly explainable as simply a bad idea. wHAT IS THIS PLACE
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