#I played the first game like 2 months ago and it has not left my brain since | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missjomarch · 1 month

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Josephine - Luke Hughes

A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.

Word Count: 3.7k 😳

Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.

(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)

Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight.

The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks.

He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you.

“Luke.”

His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips.

“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?”

Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?”

With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile.

“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…”

“Luke.”

Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance.

“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat.

“Fine, Jack.”

“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.”

Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed.

“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place.

He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl.

“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months.

His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving.

“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him?

“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.

“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…”

“Luke.”

Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked.

“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.”

Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?”

Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window.

Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.”

“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest.

“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare.

“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.”

“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh.

“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.”

“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it.

“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face.

“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke.

“How long have you been following behind me?”

“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face.

“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left.

“What’d I miss?”

“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you.

“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you.

“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away.

“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.”

You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.”

“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face.

You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.”

“Lukey!”

John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on.

“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?”

“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment.

When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates.

Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage.

“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors.

“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother.

Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you. So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone.

Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less.

Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent.

“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned.

Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.”

“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back.

“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”

Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.

“Alright. Night, Luke.”

“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone.

“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?”

It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates.

“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house.

“Someone hit me.”

Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?”

“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck.

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern.

“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”

This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option.

“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you.

“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke.

“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”

Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand.

“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center.

“For what, love?”

“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?”

Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way.

“Mhmm. Lukey?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.”

Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster.

“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?”

Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand.

“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear.

“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.”

Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead.

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey.

“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.”

“Luke.”

Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’ Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’

“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality.

Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.”

Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything.

“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.”

Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself.

“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.”

“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.”

Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him.

“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?”

“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.”

A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?”

Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself.

“Even Secretariat.”

So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now.

#jay writes #luke hughes #nj devils #hockey

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runa-falls · 11 months

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scratches and bites - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Could be a little off-canon for some characters, lots of plot, slight angst, Miguel is an helicopter mom, reader just wants some friends :(

a/n: ok. i didn't realize how much i wanted to put into this chapter so spicy stuff is coming NEXT chapter. promith. i've already written some of it. anyway, i'm glad y'all are enjoying my O'Hara content. I hope this lives up to your expectations lmfao

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. This is what you've been doing since he swept you away.

w/c: 2.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

So being “Spider-Woman” turned out to be harder than you thought. It’s not all swinging from and shooting webs like you imagined. Apparently, there’s a spider-specific physical regimen you’re required to keep up with. Every day.

You’re almost convinced that you’re being hazed into the spider-verse community because you are yet to see anyone else doing upside-down web squats on a 100-story building. Not to mention the life-threatening training simulations you were thrown into as soon as you arrived in Nueva York.

“They can’t hurt you, Kid. They’re holograms.”

“Yeah, that’s what they want you to think O’Hara, but my ass has been kicked enough to prove differently.”

“Alright, well they can’t kill you.”

Miguel has been “training” you for the last few months to become the best Spider-Woman you can be, pushing you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. Though these days, this “training” is actually just him telling Parker to drill you in whatever he thinks will work.

O’Hara attempted to do it himself for like three days, and it turns out he’s too impatient to take in a spider apprentice or even be in a room where you do anything but exactly what he commands.

You should’ve expected it.

Sure, Miguel is a naturally grumpy man, but you swear he has it out for you. He literally tenses whenever you enter the room and makes sure to barely meet your eyes when he’s forced to talk to you.

Actually, ever since you were dropped in the middle of Spider-Central, O’Hara has been ignoring you. Treating you like the plague. Always making the excuse that he’s too busy with things that are far more important than anything you’d ever have to say. As if he wasn’t the one who forced you to come with him in the first place…

It’s not fair. He was literally all you had.

Months ago, he showed you a side of him, the one that convinced you that he actually brought you here for a reason, but now he can’t even look at you. Sure, you’re a particularly slow learner, and one that never really liked PE, but you deserve some slack. You left everything for him – for them.

Meeting people who’ve gone through similar circumstances as you was quite interesting, to say the least. And it doesn’t stop at people either. Spider cars, dinosaurs, and cats were just the beginning.

You’ve made a few friends. There’s Gwen, a 15 (or was it 16?) -year-old who mostly talks about her friend Miles, music, and…uh, Miles. It’s sweet how she gushes on about some guy without fully realizing how into him she is. Miles sounds great, really great, but you’ll probably never get to meet him because of the number of restrictions placed on your watch. Fucking O’Hara and his parental controls.

Gwen is cool, she plays the drums and can do a bunch of acrobatic things that you’d never even attempt, but she’s also almost a half-decade younger than you. There’s only so much you can talk about before you start getting homesick. Of course, despite her young age, she’s still given more responsibilities and missions than you. If Miguel has one hobby, it would be undermining everything you do.

“She’s been in the game longer than you have.” He always makes that excuse.

And you always counter it with: “But I’m older! I can do more than just scream for help!”

“This isn’t a discussion.” That honestly might be his favorite phrase to shut you up these days. “You’ll be called on when you’re ready, Kid.” And that.

“I am ready. And stop calling me that. I’m not a kid, I’m 20 years old!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

There’s also Peter Parker, your reluctant coach. He’s…something else. Sure, he’s your friend, but he’s more like a substitute teacher and crazy uncle type of guy. Usually, he listens to everything Miguel says, acting like a glorified babysitter, but sometimes, he’s up to bend the rules on some things.

Once he let you visit his dimension, claiming you’d need some real-life experience as a “friendly-neighborhood spider-woman”. You spent that day chasing down petty robbers and helping old ladies cross the road. Sure, it was a small field trip, but that was only the third dimension you’d traveled to at the time.

Parker is also always trying to get you to hold his daughter whenever she comes to work claiming that “it’ll be good for your mental health, trust me.” Of course, for Parker, every day is “bring-your-kid-to-train-the-new-spider-woman-day”. And really, you don’t mind holding her, but not when you’re in the middle of sparing 5 of Doc Ocks tentacles.

The baby is adorable, but you do worry about how she crawls up the walls. Parker doesn’t seem fazed. Actually, neither does O’Hara.

Sometimes you wonder if O’Hara wants kids one day. He certainly handles Mayday like a pro, letting her crawl over his shoulders and paperwork. Would he possibl– No, actually, it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he left you. He’s not – couldn’t even be an option. – Anyway…

Parker and Mayday are nice company and the only real constants in your life, but you really just want to be a consistent part of the team. You don’t know how much longer you can spend your days doing swinging drills and spider crunches (don’t even ask). But Parker has actually been your rock these past months, to give him credit. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel like you belonged in this distorted array of spiders and dimensions.

Then there’s Hobie.

The first time you met him you probably had literal stars in your eyes. Donned with a spiked vest and several facial piercings, he caught your attention right away. He catches everyone’s attention. Even his suit is cooler than everyone else’s with a spiked mohawk that surely gets in the way.

Unfortunately, just as you were hoping to take on the Brit as your mentor for all things spider, he was decidedly off-limits, courtesy of O’Hara. Apparently, his rebellious nature and brash energy make him a “bad influence”.

“Seriously? You should be glad that I’m taking a bigger interest in my training.” You have your hands posted up on your hips, trying to make yourself look bigger than you actually are. Damn, O’Hara and his domineering presence!

He rolls his eyes openly, genuinely already done with the conversation. “Yeah…your ‘training,’ sure.”

“What is that supposed to mean!” You practically whine it out.

“Don’t get distracted gatita, just do as you’re told.”

“Ok, what does that mean? I don’t speak Italian.”

“That was Spanish dumbass.”

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with him anyway (though he’s not around as much anymore). Who knew making friends as Spider-Person would be so hard. You’d think you’d have a lot in common with everyone around you, but really, you’re all alone. Sometimes you think the spiders actually resent you deep down because you’re the only one that has never lost anything. Or had anything to lose in the first place.

For now, you’re just moving through a sea of spiders, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re supposed to be doing here. Trying to figure out why you were chosen over the infinite other versions of you in the multiverse.

—

So far you’ve been on 2 and a half missions. The half was when you were forcibly sent home and effectively grounded for a week. Apparently, talking to civilians while standing guard is prohibited, even when they’re selling dip’n’dots. What? It was a long ass mission. And it was hot!

This one is your official third mission. It’s quite simple, in theory. Just travel to Earth-275A, infiltrate a tech lab, pick up some – worryingly volatile – equipment, and go home. Easy.

Except, it didn’t exactly go that way.

It’s just you, Miguel, Gwen, and Jess on this mission. You and Jess were placed on lookout duty (you on the roof and Jess on the ground with her bike), while Miguel and Gwen broke in and out of the building. It was all running smoothly, each spider occasionally muttering quietly through the radio whenever their positionings changed. Otherwise, it was silent. And frankly, a bit boring.

You idly kicked around some pebbles that somehow found their way onto the roof of this tall ass building, sometimes smacking them against the half wall separating you from falling a thousand feet downwards. You were actually dying to get back to HQ because you briefly spotted Hobie talking to Parker and Mayday before you had to go. He’s been quite absent lately, and you want to show off some of the new moves you learned this week.

Then, there was suddenly action.

A huge explosion surges out the right side of the building that O’Hara and Stacy were infiltrating. That mission plan was not kidding when they described the ‘volatility’ of the shit inside of those supply crates. Deep creaking and smashing objects follow the blast. You watch as the tallest building in the city starts to tilt. Shit, the explosion must’ve taken out some of the support beams.

You hear Miguel yelling your name through your earpiece, as well as heavy breathing and crumbling concrete in the background.

“Y-yes? Copy–”

“You and Gwen collect the crate and get out of here. I already called for a portal. Jess and I will get surrounding civilians away from danger.”

“Understood, sir.” You don’t usually call him anything like ‘sir’, but the stakes are high and complete compliance is needed at this moment.

“Crate is located on the top floor, Stacy is already there waiting for my word.” You briefly shake yourself out, mentally preparing yourself to scale the larger building in front of you.

With a quick fwp, you attach your web to the nearly as tall building next to your target to give yourself some leverage. You jump without even giving yourself time to think about it, tugging slightly at the web, making sure to collect as much kinetic energy as possible. You release the web when you get to the highest point and spit out another web to get you to the top floor of the building. Luckily the blast took out the windows so you could easily enter the floor.

There, Gwen stands next to a crate with several scientists and guards nicely pasted onto the walls with perfectly placed webs on each limb and over their abdomens.

“Took you long enough.”

“It’s been 30 seconds!”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” She shoots out a couple of webs and connects them to the crate. “Here, help me out with this.” You follow her movements, pulling at your webs slightly to get a good evaluation of its weight. Surprisingly, it moves quite easily, almost three inches from your soft tug.

“Why’re we both doing this when it weighs 100 lbs. We have super strength.”

“I dunno, Miguel just gave us the orders. There’s probably a reason. It doesn’t really matter.” You frown realizing you could’ve been down there helping O’Hara save actual lives but instead, you were ordered to assist a teenager on a one-person job. “The portal is opening in a few seconds on the roof of the building behind us.” Gwen doesn’t seem phased. “We can just swing it with us.”

“Isn’t this shit going to blow up if we move it too harshly?”

“Not when it’s in this protective crate.” She steps closer to the broken window, mentally measuring and planning out the escape route. “That explosion earlier was from an open container.” You hum, still torn over leaving Gwen to do the delivery so you can help people get out of the way faster. “You ready then?” She’s been watching you. Clearly, your thoughts are painted on your face.

You nod briefly, “Let’s go.” Together you take each side of the crate and use your other arms to swing yourselves over to the portal that magically appears. This time, that odd purring sound of the portal is completely blocked out by the chaos going on around you. Somehow the building has still only tilted a little bit since the explosion.

As Gwen pushes the crate into the gateway, you look down at the streets, watching as Miguel and Jess work impeccably together as they save hundreds of civilians from falling debris and the inevitable demolition of the building.

Then you look back a Gwen, who’s ready to head home. Then you look down at them again.

Then your eye catches on a red sedan sheltering a terrified family that sits under the chaos.

Gwen catches your eye. “Don’t.”

“I have to.”

“Migu–”

“Would do the same.”

“--Will mur-der me.” You sigh, but quickly shoot a couple of webs downwards without looking. Gwen has her arms folded, sharing that unamused expression that Jess loves to sport. Her feet are now temporarily stuck to the floor. You’re sure she could get out of it in a second, but you can tell, she’s not going to stop you. ��Don’t die.”

Right before jumping off the ledge, you send her a cheesy smirk, “Me? Never.”

----

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @danaeaurelia @reuxxi

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #spider-man

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someplace-darker · 8 months

Text

In The Static | Ted Lasso

Pairing: Ted Lasso x reader (no y/n) Wordcount: 2.1k Warnings: panic attack/talks of panic attacks, vague mentions of trauma. That's about it I think, it's a touch angst and hurt/comfort I suppose. Fluff. Summary: Ted thought he was past his panic attacks until he encounters another, and you follow him to make sure he's okay. A/N: "now jay" you might be saying "wasn't the last thing you posted smut almost a year ago?" and the answer is yes. But i've recently become insanely attached to Ted Lasso, and I dipped my toe into writing more than a wip. SO here's my middle aged white man of the month. Enjoy :)

“REFEREE!!!” Keeley stands with a force that causes her to latch onto your arm to keep from falling forward. It continues to astound you that for such a tiny lady, she really contains an insane amount of spunk. One of the opposing team’s men had just slid Sam’s legs out from under himself, causing him to land hard on his shoulder. The game had been a rough one so far, more aggressive and bitter than most. Richmond had been respectful at first (as per usual) but the second their opponents had started playing violent and dirty, that changed.

Roy and Beard were obviously shouting and pointing angrily, though you couldn’t make out what they were saying from your seat in the box. Ted, however, was standing stiffly with his balled fists shoved into the pockets of his Richmond zip-up. You can feel that something is off. Even if you can’t see his face, you know him well enough to read his body language. There’s mere minutes left in the game and the teams are tied.

Rebecca is already standing and gathering her belongings to head back in, gesturing for the lot of you to follow. That’s exactly what you begin to do before the crowd goes ape-shit, jumping from their seats and screaming so loud it makes your head thrum.

“ROJAS INTERCEPTS THE KICK AND PASSES TO TARTT AND JUST LIKE THAT-”

You turn just in time to watch Jamie kick the ball into the net, the stadium erupting in cheers that shake the ground.

“AFC RICHMOND TAKES ANOTHER VICTORY 2-1 IN A SHOCKING LAST SECOND SCORE”

Keeley, Higgins, and Rebecca rejoice, grabbing at each other in shock. Placing your fingers between your lips you let out a piercing whistle, jumping up and down as thousands of chants echo. You look down to your coaches, expecting to see all three soaking in the sweet relief of not gaining another loss. Instead, you see Ted darting for the locker room, head down with his phone held two inches from his face. It was obvious to you that he was trying to use it as a cover.

“I’ll meet back with you guys later, I’ve gotta check something real quick.”

They smile and wave you off, relishing in the buzzing excitement clearly felt throughout the facility. As much as you wish you could join them in celebration, you were pretty sure Ted needed you more. So you slip through the small crowds with ease, having much practice during your time with Richmond, taking the back staircase to the locker room hallway.

At first you check his office, finding only his jacket laying on the floor. The second spot you search is the right one, opening the door to darkness. You almost turn and leave but a staggered breath gives him away.

“Ted?” you whisper, stepping into the boot room and closing the door gently. He sniffles almost silently and hums in response, curling in on himself when the lights flicker on at your touch.. You’ve never seen him look so small before, his entire body condensed into half of his height in the corner of the room, the sight moving you to shut the lights back off for his sake.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, walking over to kneel in front of him. He has his head placed between his knees, hands on the back of head with his fingers intertwined tightly. As much as you know of his panic attacks, you’ve never been present for one. Something tells you he tends to keep it that way with everyone around him.

However, you’re well versed with them yourself.

“I’m gonna sit beside you, but I won’t touch you unless you say it’s okay.”

You lower yourself onto the ground, the floor cold beneath your already freezing ass. England's weather was not kind to the warm blooded. Ted doesn’t lift his head all the way, simply angles it towards you just enough for an eye to peek out from behind his arm. He looks at you with the gaze of a wounded puppy, eyes red and wet, smeared with warm tears.

The silence that follows is deafening, a faint ringing the only thing you hear. Ted looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. It’s not like you can blame him. The last time he opened up to someone he considered close about his panic attacks, it ended up plastered on every magazine and tabloid across the country. Trust within himself and others had been fractured- not broken. No one could ever betray Coach Lasso enough to break that within him, it was fundamental to who he was as a person.

After a few more minutes of silence his foot slides over to yours, just barely nudging it. He lifts his head and sniffles, using his sleeve to wipe the mix of tears and snot off his face.

“I want to tell you about it, I do. I’m just… stuck. Feels like if I tell you, it’ll be too much,” he murmurs, keeping his foot pressed to yours.

“I understand, Ted,” you whisper. “I started having panic attacks before I was even a teenager. I’d been through things- rough things -and they plagued me for years.” He begins to unfurl himself, listening intently to every word you say, the blatant honesty and vulnerability easing his anxiety. “It took me a while to open up to anyone about them, let alone a therapist. I spent so long trying to hide them, that when I finally did get help I felt like a fake.”

Ted adjusts himself to sit up straighter, shimmying closer so your shoulders touch. You can tell he’s trying to be inconspicuous about it, but the man is known to be anything but subtle. Outside you can hear the boys begin filing into the hallway, headed for the locker room surely for some type of victory activity. Their shadows dance across the wall in the darkened boot room, slashed into segments by the blinds slanted slightly open. Both of you seemed to have held your breaths as they passed, because as soon as they’re gone there’s a simultaneous exhale of relief.

An amused breath comes from Ted, palm pressing from the corner of his eye to the tip of his cheekbone to wipe away the stray tears. He knocks his knee against yours and dares to glance at you, opening up enough to make eye contact. Here in this room, he looks more human than you think you’ve ever seen him. For the most part he keeps his mood insanely optimistic, tending to care more about others happiness than his own. It gave him an almost otherworldly bounce to his step and light to his eyes.

But now that he’s sat no more than two inches in front of you with puffy eyes and a chewed lip, Ted is just… a broken man.

“You’ll never be too much, Ted. It’s normal to feel stuck, and it’s okay to not be able to talk about it yet.” His eyes flick to your hand when you lift it towards him, a lifeline of trust, openness in the form of warm skin and an upward facing palm. Internal conflict tugs at his lungs, his breath hitching as he weighs his options for all of five seconds before taking your hand. You are someone Ted knows he can always find solace in.

Someone who he could spot in a crowd of thousands, someone who he will always seek out.

His other hand reaches to pat the top of yours, rubbing his thumb against your skin in soothing circles. A shuddered breath begins to pass his lips, but he smothers it to ashes with the cool press of a kiss to your wrist.

Humming amusedly at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, you lean your head on his shoulder, moving slightly as they lift with the intake of air into his lungs. “I suppose you’re right. I just feel bad that I haven’t spoken to you ‘bout it,” he tsk’s softly to himself, carefully navigating his brain for the right words.

“I was fine out there, y’know? I’ve been doin’ better, Sharon’s helped a lot. But it just got so loud, and everything felt out of my control- out of any of our boys’ control and I- I just couldn’t breathe. Tunnel vision, boom, just like that.”

You whisper encouragements softly under your breath, murmurs of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘you can keep going’ pushing him gently in the right direction. Voices can be heard from the locker room, loud cheering and chanting from the team acting as muffled background noise for Ted’s moment of vulnerability.

“After everything that happened with Nate, I learned to mask it a bit better I guess. That’s the fancy word Doc told me about,” the corner of his lips quirks up “I figured I’d be okay in here for a bit anyway, then you walked in.” Your brows furrow and you pull away from his shoulder, opening your mouth to apologize for intruding but he beats you to it.

“No, no, that sounded different than I meant. I am very glad that you found me here. I needed you even if I didn’t know it,” he traces the details of your face with his eyes, not stopping you when you move your head back down to his shoulder.

“I think you’ve worked on it so much quicker than you realize, Ted. It wasn’t that long ago, yeah? Healing and improving takes time, and it’s okay that it takes time. I certainly took my time,” you muse, channeling your own therapist’s word. “But I think it’s right on par with who you are, who I know you to be, that you got on it as fast as you did. Even if it was begrudgingly at first.”

“Yeah, Doc definitely had her work cut out.”

You laugh, normally at first but then Ted snorts and you both lose it, bodies bumping against each other with the shakes that come with post-meltdown laughs. Soon enough you’re both wiping away tears of a different variety, the air in the room much lighter than before. You take that moment to push yourself up and off the floor, lending a hand to Ted to pull him up.

“I am immensely proud of you, Coach Lasso. So is the team. You have a very large family backing you up, as unorthodox as said family is.” You take one step closer, hand still holding onto his, pressed between your bodies. Taking your free hand, you hold the side of his face and lean in to kiss his cheek, thumb stroking his jaw.

Ted presses into your lips, chasing your touch even when you turn to the door. Twisting the knob open you find Will standing there, boots tied by their laces hanging over his shoulder, hand outreached to grab the now absent handle.

He blinks at the two of you for a second, gaze one of vague shock, before curling his lips in an embarrassed smile and stepping out of the way.

“Not a word, Will,” you sing-song when he opens his mouth, pulling Ted down the hall to stand outside of the locker room door.

You can hear Roy in the middle of a somehow happy/angry sounding congratulation speech that only he is capable of, grinning and turning to face your Coach once more. “Now, get your butt in there and relish in the sweet taste of winning.”

“I mean, relish is pretty tasty-”

“Ted.”

“Yep,” Ted takes a deep breath and nods, squeezing your hand “you coming in with me?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your moment, Coach.”

He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and pushes the door open, dragging you with him. The boys’ faces light up, immediately rushing to storm him, all reaching to touch him and jumping up and down. Their team song buzzing and bouncing along with them.

“WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE, WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE, WE KNOW WE ARE, WE’RE SURE WE ARE, WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE”

You slide past the group, safely reaching Roy and Beard without your feet being stomped on. The smile on your face is one of pure joy and contentment, not faltering when Beard slides to your side, bumping your elbow.

“Thanks,” he speaks, nodding towards Ted. It’s easy to know what he means immediately, always one to be of few words.

“No need to thank me,” you reply easily, watching your family bond even more “it’s what we do.”

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 days

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AITA for being a ....homewrecker? (🏝 for later)

I'm not sure that's the right word, but whatever. Basically, I (FtM) met this guy (cis M, we'll call him M) over a year ago and we hit it off pretty quick. It was under extremely unusual circumstances, but for the sake of anonymity, I'll be vague and just say: it was 3 AM, Denny's, T.E Lawrence was involved. Now, I'm pretty wary of most guys who go to my school, given I'm trans and unfit to defend myself for various would-break-anonymity reasons, but M is just the best and is incredibly sweet. Days are easier when he's around, even if it's just through a Discord call playing video games. I started harboring feelings for him pretty much immediately, but didn't plan on acting on them for two reasons:

1) I've yet to be in an actual committed relationship (nobody's wanted to stick around, or we both realized quickly we weren't dating material) and I'm terrified of fucking anything up. 2) ....M has a girlfriend. A super long-term one, at that. Like, they met when they were kids, he's been romancing her for ages, they're going to get married and both openly agree they'd be shells of people without each other. Soulmate shit. She's awesome. She's the sweetest, too. Very thoughtful, and soft-spoken, and so so smart. So, no, I didn't plan on doing anything about my feelings. I'm not the type to hide who I am, so I wasn't going to hide anything, but I certainly wasn't going to DO anything either. That's not my place.

Until, one school break, M comes to me and admits he has feelings. And he's wrecked about it. Tells me I'm the only other person he's really had this for, because it's always been his girlfriend. He's a mess. I thought we communicated pretty well, and we'd both made it clear that nothing was going to happen unless Girlfriend knew about it and approved, because she comes first above all else. (I was the one to say this before him, and he was relieved that I understood.) She is priority. She will always be priority, and I totally get that. I'm just some guy, you know? But the conversation ended with me telling him he should probably let her know about this, regardless of how scary that was, because he's an incredibly touchy-feely guy and if I was her I'd like if this was on my radar. New player: M's best friend. very by the book christian guy. Not at all stuck up, but he abstains from worldly pleasures or something like that! He's cool, we're cool.

Except after break, M's best friend makes a few confusing comments, and suddenly, there's now never been a time when just me and M have hung out since. Girlfriend hasn't acted any differently and is still incredibly warm and wonderful, so I'm pretty sure she still doesn't know. I'm a very giving person and like to shower my friends in gifts, so I was undeterred in giving them both valentine's gifts I had bought them months in advance (extra hand wringing on my part.) Girlfriend was ecstatic, loved her gift, and M loved his too. But then he left to go Cry??? Because he hadn't gotten her anything (I'm the only one with a min $ job). I'm not sure where I stand with him or with either of them, and i'm just so confused. I'm 🤷‍♂️ about poly, but with the way they were raised (see M's best friend for reference), their feelings are more muddy about it. I want to talk to M, but being alone in the same room is impossible. I don't know if M has been intentionally making sure we're never alone together, I don't know if Girlfriend knows, or what M wants, what Girlfriend would want or even what I want, because I don't know what's on the table. I don't even know if we're in the same restaurant. Girlfriend is going to find out. M is way too touchy feely even with "supervision". (Granted, he is with everyone, I'm pretty sure I'm just the only person who lets him get away with it.) At this rate, somethings going to give, and i'm honestly just waiting for it to happen now. 🤷‍♂️

#aita #am i the asshole

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coeluvr · 2 months

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You're so wonderfully devious. Your IF is so well written. I've played through it once several months ago, lost track of it, then found it again 🤗 but seriously, the complex emotions you pull out of me is what makes me keep coming back.

There's no time to not grieve for the MC. And your time jumps make it so no matter how much time has passed for MC, we don't get that relief. It makes me wonder if the MC feels that way all the time for the last 9 years if the grief we experience is just as intense. So I absolutely adore how you give MCs the ability to name a journal Alistair and to have a tattoo to keep them with you.

I don't know what to do with Rosea. I think the only way to hurt Luceris is by hurting the ones they love, Lancelot and Helios. But then this cycle of revenge continues and warps, and it's this massive spiders web because when you hurt Lancelot and Helios, then you hurt Farah, Vincent, and Hunter. It makes even more people want to put a stop to MC's machinations.

I know we're going to see it in writing, but the generational guilt on these kids [cause fuck they are basically still kids] heads is crushing.

The adults trying to alleviate guilt by saying "Mc is protected as consort" and has the "freedom to do what they want" is a poor consolation prize. They can't get rid of how they were complicit in MCs trauma.

Somehow, you have me litterally insane, tinfoil hat and all, do you play a kind MC so everyone can see how unhinged Luceris idea was? Because I'd love to play this game as quiet and kind MC, one who's forgive and try to move on, but when MCs twin died, I became just as crazy as Luceris. Now I have to be okay with the fact that I'm playing the long game of revenge and whatever that looks like.

Anyway, thank you for your work. It's amazing and I can't wait to see what happens next.

My toxic trait is I like being called evil or devious or anything insane. 🥰 Thank you for your kind words! 💗

Honestly, the time jumps do serve that purpose. Mainly because I think MC gets a little better each time jump but then something happens and it brings back what they felt that night in Vesphire.

For example, the time jump to meeting Fadiya is kind of supposed to be like "well at least someone wants to be friends with our baby" and that feeling is kind of hopeful, at least to me. With the 1st short story, I wanted to cement that feeling since it's like "world against MC but this little kid is here!!" and again it's hopeful. Chapter 2 is softer too with Fadiya, there isn't much angst until the very end where it's like "ah right, shit still sucks." and a part of the healing that the player might have felt just dies lol.

Chapter 3 is kind of different but technically MC is doing "better" or well coping better so there has been some progress on their part albeit it can be unhealthy.

I've gotten the "Oh this is kinda rushed" comment a few times but I don't think I could've taken these first few chapters more slowly since it is supposed to be kind of like a blur to MC. In my head, chapter 3 is when things are more slow for them but now they're leaving on a trip so...

I think revenge (that isn't like "get power throw him into jail") will always come with the loss of people. The only reason Luceris didn't lose people is because he didn't really have anyone to lose except for Lancelot and we all know how that's going. (Ikram doesn't count, if she refused he could just get another military general and been like okay. Don't be friends with your boss people. /j)

A Luceris that had Farah wouldn't have done that ever because she would have left him so yeah! It's normal to be stuck between what to do when you have people you care about who actually have somewhat of a normal moral compass.

Easiest way is to simply not have anyone (unless they're 100% in love with you and would throw away all their morals just for you ofc) and well maybe I can help with that! 🤭

The adults are insane and the kids are burdened with the problems that their parents are to blame for. I love the whole "burdened by the sins of your parents" trope. ✨️

God this got a bit too long lmao 😭 it was fun discussing some of the points. 🤝

#coe answers #coaaf if: mc #coaaf if: luceris #crown of ashes and flames #coaaf #diebytheshield

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

Text

TEENAGER IN LOVE — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem! hughes!reader

pt. 2

request: “hi! can i request something with trevor zegras with the prompts 20 and 23 please? thanks sm!! 💗”

20. “can we stay like this forever?”

23. “sleep over? please?”

summary: in which y/n reminisces on how her and Trevor started their secret relationship.

notes: i changed up prompt 23 a little bit to make it fit better, i hope that’s okay!

i was listening to Teenager in Love by Madison Beer quite a bit while writing this so…

Trevor and y/n are in an established relationship during the first little “present” scene.

reader is 20 in the present and 19 in the flashback.

**PRESENT**

i’ve never felt comfortable on planes. it doesn’t matter where i’m sat or what i’m wearing or who i’m with, i don’t like planes. my family knows this, my friends know this, anyone who will listen to me talk knows this, my brother however, simply does not care. and now i’m stuck on the Devils charter plane, not even sat next to Jack because he’s busy sat next to Dougie, talking about some video game they both play. so i’m left beside Jesper Bratt, who’s already asleep after only being in the air for maybe half an hour.

i didn’t intend to even tag along on this road game to California, but i moved in with Jack a couple months ago and he apparently didn’t trust me to stay in New Jersey by myself, citing his reasoning as “i don’t want any chance of you having boys in this apartment.” but the joke is on him, because he’s really just providing me with a trip to see the only guy he should be remotely worried about, Trevor.

as the only girl, growing up with three brothers, they’ve always been a bit overprotective. and by a bit, i mean a lot. even Luke, who’s a year younger than me, has had his fair share of threatening guys “in the name of my safety.” all of their friends have gotten the “if you even so much as look at my sister, i’ll make sure you never see anything again” spiel, and for a good nineteen years, their friends respected that. until Jack’s best friend, Trevor, and i were left alone for a night at the lake house last summer.

**FLASHBACK**

all the guys have left for a party down the road, they even took Luke along with them for his first party as an eighteen year old, and i’m looking forward to a quiet night of watching romcom’s on the couch with no judgment and no one complaining that “that would never happen in real life!”

decked out in one of Quinn’s oversized Canucks shirts, pajama shorts, and some fuzzy socks; i’m lounged on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket burrito. i’m just about to hit play on a movie on netflix when the front door opens and shuts and i hear footsteps getting closer to the living room. averting my gaze from the tv, i look over in time to see Trevor freeze in the doorway to the living room, and i become acutely aware of my current state of no makeup and probably looking like a dork with my blanket draped over the top of my head.

i’ve never had a problem acting normal around any of my brothers’ friends. usually, they’re all just like extended family, unwanted additional older brothers. except Trevor. when Jack first brought him home during their USNTDP days, i immediately got a schoolgirl crush. and unlike usual crushes, it’s only gotten worse with time. luckily, Quinn and Jack have never seemed to notice my awkward and shy behavior when Trevor is around, but Luke has and he’s made it his mission to send me scowls and snicker at my misfortune whenever it happens.

“oh hey.” he cocks his head in one those ‘sup’ nods and takes a glance towards the tv screen before fixing his gaze back on me.

“hey. what are you doing back already? are the others coming back too? i can go back into my room. i don’t wanna be a bother or anything.” cue the embarrassing rambles.

“nah, it’s just me. feeling kinda homesick, i don’t really wanna be at a party tonight.” he shrugs his shoulder and sits on the arm of the couch next to me. “whatcha watching?”

“oh, i was just gonna watch a romcom, but it’s fine, i can watch it in my room. you can have the tv if you want.” i have to crane my neck some to look up at him from my spot. “i can leave you alone.”

i start to stand up, still wrapped in my blanket burrito when Trevor grabs the back of the blanket and tugs me back down onto the couch. he stands and walks in front of me before taking a spot on the cushion next to me.

“so, what romcom are we watching?” he asks, kicking his legs up on the coffee table in front of us.

“you don’t have to watch it. we can watch something else, if you want.”

trevor’s only answer comes in actions, grabbing the remote from my hands and clicking play on the movie. i don’t bother to fight him anymore, allowing myself to get sucked into the movie instead.

i’m sat rigid throughout the entire movie, keeping aware of my limbs, not letting any stray too far towards the cushion beside me. and about halfway through the movie i remember how weird i must look and move the blanket onto my lap instead of wrapped around me. i can barely focus on anything other than the fact that Trevor is sitting next to me. the fact that i can smell his sandalwood cologne. that if i were to lay my hand next to me, i would almost be touching him.

once the movie ends, i expect him to put on something for himself or even just go to his room, but instead he turns to look at me.

“you okay?” he asks. my eyes widen slightly before i catch myself and revert them back to normal.

“yeah, why?” i try to sound calm, but my voice is slightly shaky, and i’m just hoping he didn’t notice.

“you seem uncomfortable. did i make you uncomfortable? did i do something?” i shake my head a little too violently for someone who’s supposed to be calm.

“no! i’m not uncomfortable! why would you think that? i’m cool.”

oh my god people who are cool do not say ‘i’m cool’, what is wrong with me? he chuckles and i can’t help the small smile that breaks out on my face at the sound.

“i was just checking.” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “we should play a game.”

“what game did you have in mind?”

“truth or dare? i don’t know, i’m just bored.”

“sure.” i have a feeling this will not end great for me, but i’m not about to let him know that.

“okay. truth or dare?” we turn and sit criss-cross on the couch, facing each other properly as i weigh my options.

“truth.” safest option. he takes a second to think about his question.

“okay, i got one. does it ever annoy you, how overprotective your brothers can be?”

“oh yeah. one hundred percent. they have all these rules for me; don’t drink unless we’re with you, no dating until you’re 30, don’t leave the house unless you tell us where you’re going, don’t crush on any of our friends. it’s overwhelming sometimes. and i can never stick up for myself because they’re so quick to hurt whoever hurts me, which is nice, yes, but it’s definitely taken a toll on how i present myself. it’s made me shy and my friends say i can be a crybaby sometimes because i’ve never had to handle problems on my own. like, don’t get me wrong, i’m grateful for my brothers, they’re always there for me, but sometimes it’s just too much. ya know?”

he nods, genuinely seeming interested in what i had to say, and my heart flutters.

“i can’t say i understand because i’m the older brother in my family, but i can imagine it can be difficult sometimes.”

“anyways, truth or dare?” he ponders his options before choosing dare. “i dare you to text the guys and tell them you just watched a romcom. and you CAN’T say it was with me.”

he groans and lets his head drop back for a few seconds before pulling his phone out of his pocket and typing for a minute. turning the screen so i can see what he just wrote, he lets me press the send button.

To: Jack-Attack, Huggy Bear, Moosey Hughes

just watched this great romcom on netflix called Set It Up. you guys should watch it. 10/10

i let my own head drop back in laughter and let out an ugly cackle.

“truth or dare? you evil little witch” his mocking insult rolls straight off my back when i see the smile on his face.

“truth again.” i shrug when he raises an eyebrow at my safe choice.

“have you ever broken any of your brothers rules?” my mind short circuits. there’s only one rule i’ve broken, and that’s by liking him. do i admit that? or do i just say no? technically, he didn’t say i have to say which rule i’ve broken, so-

“yes. but you can’t tell them that i have! it has to be our secret! they’d pester me to no end until they found out which one i broke!”

“okay, our secret. promise.” he holds his pinky out, waiting for me to link it with my own. a pinky swear. how adorable. fuck. i bring my own hand up, linking my pinky with his before breaking away and setting my hand back in my lap.

“truth or dare?” i ask.

“truth.” i take a few seconds to think of a question. how is this harder to think of than coming up with a dare?

“what’s your favorite part about the off season?” it’s a relatively boring question, but the first one i thought of.

“oh that’s easy. coming here. i love spending time with you guys.” more heart flutters, i may need to get that checked out. “truth or dare?”

“don’t kill me; truth.” i joke and he laughs again.

“i should’ve expected that, shouldn’t i? alright, if you wanna keep doing truth, i’m just gonna dig deeper and deeper until you tell me your darkest secret, y/n. which rule did you break?” my stomach drops. can i forfeit? can i plead the fifth? is that a thing that you can do in truth or dare? i wouldn’t know, this is my first time playing. i think i’m just gonna have to say it. it’s not like he’ll ever know it’s him.

“you can’t tell them! remember that!” i remind him before admitting- “having a crush on one of their friends.”

his jaw drops and he lets out a completely fake gasp.

“that is not what i was expecting. i expected you to say the drinking rule or the telling them where you go rule. how scandalous, y/n! a forbidden romance!” his jokes make me feel slightly better, at least he’s not judging me.

“yeah, yeah! it’s not like i’m dating the guy.” i defend myself. “truth or dare, Zegras?”

“dare, i’m feeling adventurous.”

“i dare you to go in Jacks room and steal my book back for me. he took it away from me because he said reading was boring and this trip isn’t allowed to be boring.” he bursts out in laughter, barely able to form words for a few minutes before he speaks again.

“oh you’ve got me doing your dirty work for you! i respect it!” he leaps up from the couch and within a couple minutes he’s back on the couch, my book in his hand. he tosses it on my lap and throws a wink my way. “one book for the lady.”

“my sanity thanks you. i can’t start another book until i’ve finished this one and it was killing me slowly.”

“truth or dare? although, i don’t know why i bother asking at this point.” i roll my eyes at his sarcasm and decide to throw him a curveball. mostly for myself though because i have a feeling i know what his next question would be if i pick truth.

“dare.” he grins, and for a second i regret my choice.

“i dare you to tell me which friend you were or are crushing on. c’mon, i can keep your secret.” he asked it anyways. what the hell. i don’t think you can do that. can you do that?

“that’s basically a truth! i picked dare! that’s cheating!”

“it is not!” now it’s his turn to defend himself. “i DARED you to tell me! i promise i won’t judge you, or laugh, or tell your brothers!”

oh god, i’m gonna have to tell him, aren’t i? i mean, i could always just say one of the other guys. i could say Alex, he’s always been the sweetest to me, so i’m sure Trevor would believe it. but then he might say something. it’s not that i wouldn’t trust him to keep it a secret if i say someone else, but Trevor has a big mouth, and sometimes he talks without thinking. he could slip up. so it’s smarter not to lie, to avoid any trouble or confusion. so i close my eyes and count to ten before i say it. here goes nothing.

“you.” i still don’t open my eyes. too afraid of his reaction. but now he’s quiet and i don’t like the silence. oh god, is he disgusted? is he trying trying to figure out how to let me down gently? “don’t get weird. you don’t have to say anything. you can just forget you heard that. pretend you didn’t hear any-“

i’m cut off by his mouth crashing down onto mine. i freeze, overthinking everything, before eventually melting into the kiss. moving my lips against his. it’s slow and sweet, and not at all the reaction i was expecting from him. we pull apart and i allow my eyes to flutter back open, watching his face as he slowly breathes in and out. he catches my eye and a wide grin spreads across his face.

“i’ve wanted to do that since high school.” his hands grip my hips and i let him pull me onto his lap, straddling him. butterflies are flying around in my stomach and my heart is pounding against my chest, but i let my body relax into his.

“really?”

“yeah.” he confirms, leaning his forehead against my own. “the first time Jack had me over to your house, he gave this whole lecture about how you were off limits. and i thought ‘no problem.’ but then i saw you, and i got to know you, and it turned out to be a big problem. you’re so beautiful, and then you turned to be this sweet, funny, amazing girl. and god, i could not get you out of my head. i still can’t.”

this time it’s my turn to plant a kiss on his lips, this one a chaste peck. i slouch down and lay my head on his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“can we stay like this forever?” i ask, but before he can answer, his phone buzzes on the cushion beside us, and he picks it up and curses.

“Jack just texted to say they’ll be home soon. he said Cole is wasted and they need to put him to bed.” i pull back and nod my head, moving to get off him. but he wraps his arms around my middle and holds us chest-to-chest. “do you want me to tell him you’re asleep? you can come in my room. we can just cuddle, nothing else necessary. but i just got you, and now i just wanna hold you.”

i smile and nod again, silently saying a thank you to whatever higher entity above granted me such luck as to have him like me back.

“yeah, i’d like that.” we get off the couch and make our way to his room, remembering to turn the tv off on our way out of the living room. he opens the door to his room and allows me to enter first before he comes in.

“you can go ahead and lay down, i’m just gonna change into some sweats first.” he walks over to his opened suitcase on the floor and pulls out a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt before leaving the room, going into the bathroom across the hall. i do as he says and lay down on his bed, on my side facing the door.

it’s not but a moment after he gets back into the room and shuts the door, that we hear the front door of the house open and shut, followed by multiple pairs of footsteps and some mumbling.

“jesus Cole, you could help me out here and actually move your feet.” i can hear Quinn say as he passes by Trevor’s door, i’m assuming helping Cole to his room. Trevor snickers and comes over to the bed, clicking off the lamp before laying down behind me and putting his arm around my middle, pulling me close against him. after about 15 minutes i can feel his breath start to even out, and i look over my shoulder to see his eyes fluttering open and shut, obviously having trouble staying awake.

“you can go to sleep, Trev. i’ll go to my room once i know they’re all in theirs.” i whisper.

“no. sleep over here? please? i wanna hold you tonight.” his voice is soft and low so we don’t get caught, but also laced with sleepiness. i shake my head.

“what if one of them finds us in the morning? you know how my brothers will react.” at my words, he pulls his phone out of his sweatpants pocket and taps a few times before leaning over me and plugging it in on the nightstand.

“there. i set an alarm for 7am. you know the guys won’t even wake up before 10, so that gives us plenty of time for you to go back to your room before they can catch us.” i sigh and snuggle back into him.

“alright. i’ll sleep in here.” he plants a kiss on an exposed spot between my neck and shoulder and i can feel his smile on my skin.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders #anaheim ducks #teenage dream au <3

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teetlezhere · 5 months

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RISE OF THE TMNT: Homecoming GAME REVIEW SO FAR:

The more I play the Rise of the TMNT game from china (for those who ask: I found it as an APK TMNT: Homecoming), the more I realize this is the game Nickelodeon should have given us from the very start.

The first picture reads Beta, but it's an old pic and they've made some upgrades as the newer version (or at least, the one I currently play) features Mikey.

It's kinda of a long review so, if you're interested, read under the cut:

Brief resume: China got to be a lucky bastard on Rise because not only they had the movie stream in cinemas, they also developed a game around it! I'm sad this game has been pretty much left obscure to the general public. I've only found out by accident on twitter months ago. So I've decided to try and play it to see if it's worth it.

In my opinion. Yes. It is worth it!

Sure, it took me a while to get this working, mostly because China put game restrictions of some kind and region-locked it, but today I've finally made it work correctly and it was all worth it!

The game has sooo much more than what Nickelodeon's games ever gave us! The amount of content and show references and Backgrounds for this game is insane!

It features different modes: Story, Player vs Player and Online Team play vs Boss fights.

Main Story mode follows season 1 and 2, with fights against baddies like Draxum, Big Mama, the Foot Brute and Foot lieutenant and minor villains like Hypno, Warren, Ghostbear, Meat Sweats, Repo Mantis, etc.

Beside story mode, the game features a PvP with it's own league rank system (I played a round as Leonardo against another Leonardo player and I won, lmao). There's also a feature to play as a team vs bosses. Basically, here you can team up with other players (again, I played as Leonardo and was paired with 2 Raph players vs the Purple Dragons. It was fun!).

April and Splinter are heavily featured as secondary characters and don't seem to be playable, but there are plenty of illustrations of them in-game.

Great news? We have Cassandra as a boss fight!

I've not spotted Casey II or Krangs so far, but I'm still on the first few levels and I'll keep an eye out.

All the turtles seem to be playable, with Leo being the first you get to play, followed by Raph. I've unlocked Mikey, though I can't read chinese for the life of me and I hope he'll stick around as playable in the future and not just momentarily. Donnie for now is still locked for me, and I've yet to understand if He's unlocked as a daily reward or not...

All turtle come with their own special slots for upgrades, and at least one for special cosmetics (Leo got some sick tech gauntlets, and Mikey gets a cool nifty cape like his future self for now).

There's also options for skin change and Outfits that include the Hamato Ninjas outfits from Insane in the Mama Train, Big busters suits and a few other like Pirate Leo's outfit and Red Reign Raph from Shell in a Cell.

For the rest, it's pretty much like the other games that include daily rewards and missions, objectives to clear, etc. It also features a three-option gacha system to obtain resources useful to upgrade gear, obtain rare items (blue, purple and gold usually rank from common to rare) and make the turtles stronger.

So yeah. Downloading and playing this is a bit of a hassle, but after cracking the code, it's a really cool game and I absolutely love it!

#rottmnt #tmnt #tmnt homecoming #rise of the tmnt #riseofthetmnt #save rottmnt #saverottmnt #rottmnt movie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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roamwithahungryheart · 10 months

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15 questions and 15 mutuals

I was tagged by @mexicangela @boobiebaguettebouquet @hart-kinsella & @movrings 💖

Were you named after anyone?

I was almost named after someone but it changed because the name 'sounded too old'. I was almost an 80 year old baby 😂

When was the last time you cried?

Full-on cried? Probably months ago. I got a little teary watching Black Panther: Wakanda Forever recently though.

Do you have kids?

No, but I'd like to one day. But that's a whole other complicated issue.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yep. If I ever stop being sassy, assume I'm dead.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Physically? Their eyes. Personality-wise, their sense of humor and the way they laugh.

What's your eye color?

Blue.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Both. Both is good. I like being scared, but I also hate being scared...and I think I speak for everyone when I say you can't beat a good rom-com!!!

Any special talents?

Hmmm, apparently I can throw my voice and it freaks people out - that's my theater training in action babyyy!!! 😂

Where were you born?

In the words of Bruce Springsteen, I was born in the USA (sorry).

What are your hobbies?

I hate this question so much because I always have this moment of staring wistfully into the middle distance like 'what is a hobby?' lmao BUT I guess I'd have to say writing, playing the piano, video games (just finished Resident Evil: Village and about to get onto the DLC)

Have any pets?

Three chaotic dogs - one of them has emotional problems so fireworks are his arch enemy (but so are trucks, the doorbell, wine corks, balloons, the vacuum....I could go on)

What sports do you play/have you played?

Tennis, badminton, lacrosse, hockey, but not anymore! I'm more of a yoga/pilates gal these days.

How tall are you?

5 ft 2. SMOL.

Favorite subject in school?

English & Drama.

Dream job?

Writer for TV & Film, although I have a few novels left in me yet - although I do think about getting into interior design staging every now and then. Either way it comes down to something creative & flexible (like me 😏)

I'm tagging (if you feel like it!): @existential-labrador @biscuitboxpink @stephaniejuhnay @angelofmusings @targaryenvampireslayer @babyjakes @winter2112rose @cardierreh15 @whiskeyncoke-redux @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @sarcastic-coffeedrinker @thelastsock @sillyrabbit81 @inlovewithhisblueeyes @gyllenhaalstories

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lokiondisneyplus · 7 months

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Potential spoilers below the cut, but a super interesting article.

Some non-spoiler pull quotes:

Tom is my producing partner in a true sense. Before we had any writers or directors, it was Tom and I for months building this story out. We had a 30-page document that was like, This is what the show is: TVA, He Who Remains — even Victor Timely was in that first document years ago. And it’s just carried through. -- This is maybe — not maybe — this is the first Marvel series to never have any additional photography. The story that is on screen is the story we set out to make. -- We were casting, and “Everything Everywhere All at Once” was playing in L.A. and in New York, but it hadn’t gone nationwide yet. I think it was going the very next week. We had gotten a call from our casting director who said, “Hey, I’m about to put together a list for OB — just initial thoughts. But before I do that, I really think you guys should meet Ke, and I think it should be Ke. I think you guys should meet with him quick, because probably by Monday, he’s going to have a lot of offers for different things.”

Of the eight live-action TV shows that Marvel Studios has produced for Disney+ to date, only one has concluded with the explicit promise of a second season: That would be “Loki,” the outrageously entertaining series about Tom Hiddleston’s god of mischief and his metaphysical exploits in the Time Variance Authority.

It turns out, those plans were already in the works before a second of “Loki” had ever streamed. As executive producer Kevin Wright explains to Variety, he and Hiddleston began talking about Season 2 of the show while in production on the third episode of Season 1.

“As we were shooting the ‘Lamentis’ episode, Tom and I started having lots of conversations about how this world could build out, how we dive deeper into it,” he says. “A large part of what we wanted to do was not trying to repeat ourselves, and not try to play the hits.” At the same time, he adds, they also wanted to make sure didn’t start Season 2 by “fast-forwarding through the drama” of the Season 1 finale.

And so much happened in that finale. To recap: Loki and his variant-turned-potential-soulmate Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) arrive at the end of time, where they meet the creator of the TVA, He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors) — the variant of the supervillain Kang who won a massive multiversal war. To prevent future Kangs from emerging, He Who Remains has used the TVA to maintain a single, sacred timeline — pruning away trillions of potential lives in the process. He gives Sylvie and Loki an impossible choice: Replace him as the head of the TVA, or kill him and bring forth an infinite number of Kangs.

Loki wants the first option; Sylvie wants the second. She wins, kills He Who Remains, and boots Loki back to an alternate version of the TVA, where previous compatriots Mobius (Owen Wilson) and Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku) don’t remember ever meeting him.

Variety has screened the first four (of six) episodes of “Loki,” and without spoiling anything, Season 2 picks up pretty much exactly where the first season left off — before then charting its own storytelling path. The full cast has returned, including Gugu Mbatha-Raw as former TVA judge Ravonna Renslayer and Eugene Cordero as TVA functionary Casey. And Majors returns as well as He Who Remains, in addition to another Kang variant, a 19th century inventor named Victor Timely. They’re joined by new actors including Kate Dickie (“Game of Thrones”), Rafael Casal (“Blindspotting”) and recent Oscar-winner Ke Huy Quan as TVA technician Ouroboros, aka “OB.”

Behind the scenes, there have been some changes from Season 1. The series’ original director Kate Herron and head writer Michael Waldron both stepped back to focus on other projects. In their places, “Moon Knight’s” Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead have stepped in as lead directors, and Season 1 writer Eric Martin stepped up as head writer for Season 2.

To delve into the second season of “Loki,” Wright talked with Variety about casting Quan just before his performance in the multiverse spectacular “Everything Everywhere All at Once” changed the actor’s life forever; what the future of “Loki” the show and Loki the character might be following Season 2; and how Majors’ arrest in March for assault did (or did not) affect their plans for Season 2.

What were the discussions like about how to approach Season 2?

I think we had to just keep reminding ourselves that the TVA is a great world, let’s live in the drama of what we’re creating there. Which means not fast-forwarding through the drama that they just decided to stop pruning timelines, but also staying in the emotional turmoil that Loki and Sylvie are coming into this season with.

Also, there were certain things in Season 1 that felt like they were maybe a risk, and we didn’t know how the audience would respond. Once we realized that they embraced it, it felt like a lot of freedom to go further.

What did you feel was a risk?

In a very early draft of the script that Michael Waldron had written, that first Time Theater conversation between Mobius and Loki was maybe a couple of pages. And then a lot of other big Marvel-y action things happened afterwards, and we all went, “That’s not the interesting stuff. This Time Theater conversation is interesting. That’s what the show could be.” If we are really diving into the character-driven philosophy and introspection of self, that’s quite different than the last 10 years of Marvel movies. Would the audience follow us along on that?

Tom Hiddleston famously held seminars on the character of Loki for Season 1. Did he do anything like that for Season 2?

No, because we tried to bring back as much crew as we could from Season 1. It was largely the same team. Obviously, we went from Atlanta to London [for production], but a lot of our department heads carried over, so there was an institutional knowledge that was built in. And Tom is my producing partner in a true sense. Before we had any writers or directors, it was Tom and I for months building this story out. We had a 30-page document that was like, This is what the show is: TVA, He Who Remains — even Victor Timely was in that first document years ago. And it’s just carried through.

So even as Kate Herron kind of handed the reins over at the end of Season 1, there is an institutional knowledge that comes with us being the glue between the seasons.

You mentioned He Who Remains and Victor Timely. You finished shooting Season 2 in 2022, but did Jonathan Majors’ arrest for assault in March resulted in any changes to the show?

No. This is maybe — not maybe — this is the first Marvel series to never have any additional photography. The story that is on screen is the story we set out to make. We went out there with a very specific idea of what we wanted this to be, and we found a way to tell it in that production period. It’s very much what’s on screen on Disney+.

It’s clear that Majors plays an integral role this season, and you just alluded that Marvel usually does additional photography on all its titles. So was there any discussion about making changes to the show, given the uncertainty about what was happening with Majors?

No. And that mainly came from — I know as much as you do at the moment. It felt hasty to do anything without knowing how all of this plays out.

How early into the writing of Season 2 did you decide to cast Ke Huy Quan as OB?

We were in London, so I had at least some version of our scripts. The way the process works, they’re always being rewritten, but OB was in there, and his introduction scene was almost exactly as originally written. I would like to say it was in early spring, which was maybe just two months before we started shooting. We were casting, and “Everything Everywhere All at Once” was playing in L.A. and in New York, but it hadn’t gone nationwide yet. I think it was going the very next week. We had gotten a call from our casting director who said, “Hey, I’m about to put together a list for OB — just initial thoughts. But before I do that, I really think you guys should meet Ke, and I think it should be Ke. I think you guys should meet with him quick, because probably by Monday, he’s going to have a lot of offers for different things.”

So that that Friday, myself, Justin and Aaron, two of our directors, had gotten on a Zoom with Ke. We pitched him the show and this character. We shared that introduction scene with him and maybe the full script. And then we called in the big guns that Monday; Kevin Feige got on the phone with him and said, “Ke, I know you read the script. I know you talked to the guys. We really think you should do this. I really want you to join the Marvel family.” And he had already made up his mind over the weekend. It was like, “I’m there. I’ve been a huge fan of this for a long time.”

In Season 1, the show explored several time periods and locations outside the TVA, but in the first four episodes of this season, you stick to just 1880s Chicago, 1970s London and 1980s in the Midwest. How did you come to that decision to focus more on the TVA and building out its history?

Because that felt like where so much of our core character conflict was going to come from. There was so much intersectionality of our characters and what they think of the TVA. Sylvie wants to burn it down because the apple is rotten, as she says. Loki sees it as potentially the only form of defense against whatever else is coming in a war with Kang. Mobius and B-15, they’ve dedicated their whole life to it. They’re not quite ready to give it up. Renslayer feels like she’s been keeping it together, and you get a real understanding of why she thinks she should be the one to get this thing back on track.

We want everybody to be in the gray area — they’re neither good nor bad. They might make bad choices or heroic choices, but they are trying to figure out who they are. The TVA felt like the place where we could maximize that storytelling and learn more about those characters through that. But also stay tuned, because we are going to more places [in Episodes 5 and 6].

Do you think the TVA could start to appear in other titles in the MCU?

I would love that. Look, I’ve been siloed in on “Loki” for almost five years now, by the time this show finishes, and with every filmmaker who has put their hands on the show, we’ve all had the same conversations: It feels like the TVA could really be this exciting connective tool for all of this storytelling. And we’ve only seen a fraction of it. We’re dealing very specifically with this one smaller department with Mobius and B-15 and Renslayer, but you look out at those vistas — this place is infinite. The exciting thing to us is there certainly are more stories to be told there. We’ve carved out our own little corner of the sandbox and built something cool. We’re hoping that other people want to come and play with it.

One of the things I’ve most enjoyed about “Loki” is how it’s telling its own story, but have you considered bringing more of the MCU into it?

Yes, in both seasons of writers’ rooms. It always felt wrong to go too far outside of the box of things that would directly contribute to Loki’s character arc in these two seasons. So that’s why we get [Jaimie Alexander as] Sif in there [in Season 1], we play with the variants in the void and various levels of Asgard-specific storytelling. But while we’ve had nearly 12 hours of storytelling, it never feels like we have enough time. Eventually, just handling the stories of our ensemble and not shortchanging them has always been priority number one.

Now, Season 1 and 2 were always built to be two chapters of the same book. The hope would be going forward, there are more books that we can tell these stories with. I certainly think that we could start doing that.

Would there be a Season 3 of “Loki”? Is the future of the show finite or more open-ended?

I think it’s open-ended. We certainly did not develop this season going, “We have to tee up Season 3” — in the way that we did with Season 1, where there was a very specific, “Hey, we’re coming back.” But I also think that where this show goes, there certainly can be many, many, many more stories told with Loki in the “Loki” world, and in other worlds connected to Loki, the character.

Do you think Loki would ever rejoin the larger world of the MCU?

That’s the hope. I don’t want to — yeah. I think the the sun shining on Loki and Thor once again has always been the priority of the story we’re telling. But for that meeting to really be fulfilling, we have to get Loki to a certain place emotionally. I think that’s been the goal of these two seasons.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

#loki #tom hiddleston #kevin wright #ke huy quan #season 2 #spoilers

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choicesficwriterscreations · 7 months

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October 2023 WOTM: peonierose

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @peonierose. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: peonierose Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Peonie or PR is fine 🥰

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

Way back when Choices first launched. My first book was The Freshman Series - book 1. It was so fun to play the books and get super excited for new chapters. I was waiting until midnight for new chapters. It was the first time I’ve played an app where I could make decisions and use diamonds for VIP scenes 😍

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the Choices fandom back in 2021. I really missed Open Heart after book 3 ended (and left me wanting more) So I wanted to see if there were any more stories I could binge, and that’s how I stumbled upon Tumblr 🥰

3- How did you pick your blog name?

It may sound weird but it just came to me. Peonies are my favorite flowers. As soon as I thought peonie I quickly added rose and I was like that sounds so cool and it’s unique which I love 😍 And that’s how peonierose was born.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

Gosh. This feels like forever ago. When I first came on tumblr I didn’t post or reblog much 😅 (too shy to interact with anyone 🙈)

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

It has been 2 years in August this year since I’ve actively started writing fanfic 🥰 (I still can’t believe I actually made the leap and decided to post any of my stories).

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

You’re really going to make me choose? There are so many good ones 😱

I love to write for two of my favorite books which are Nightbound and Open Heart. Those are the ones I feel most connected to 🥰 Though I’d love to venture out and make edits or social media posts for other choices books too.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

I wrote Robin‘s Tell-All from TNA, and it was the first fic I’ve ever shared. I really wanted to write a story from Robin‘s POV and how all that happened in TNA affected him and all the mistakes he made.

I wanted to showcase his inner struggle.

I remember how nervous I was to post something that I’d written. I thought to myself, will people even like my story? And if they do like it, then what? It was a great rush to see the reblogs, and the love for my first-ever posted fic.

If I could change one thing, it would probably be the moodboard 😅

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

That is a tough question, because to me every fic I‘ve written has a special place in my heart. So every story reflects the feelings I’ve felt while writing my story.

Buuuuut if I had to choose: It would be a tie between By a Landslide (Bryce and Luna), the 3rd chapter of my Nightbound series - Unexpected and Go with the Flow (Luna & Bryce)

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

I actually didn’t think I’m a sucker for you, A Pinch of Pink and Blue…This one‘s for you, Cinnamon Sugar and Wildflower, to be as well received as they did.

However, I think Bittersweet Symphony and Losing Game (1 / 4) could use some more love.

Both stories are amazing and I think you’ll love both my pairings. Luna & Bryce and of course Maxine and Adam.

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

I am by no means a smut writer 😅 Maybe I’ll get there 😅 But I’d go with a mix between angst and fluff. I think a nice balance between these two would be good.

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yeah. Tons of times. Take Luna for example. She has anxiety like me, and her appearance, such as her blue-green eyes and dark blonde hair, are like mine. But character wise we’re complete opposites. I wish I’d be more artistic like her 🩷

And Bryce is an Aries like me, and so many things he says or does make me go back, and I’m like, yeah, I would say something like that. Other than that, I’ve learned to give my characters real flaws and make them human, if that makes sense. But it does happen that they end up with character traits that are mine, and then I lean back and realize I’ve given my characters some of my weird and quirky character traits 🤣

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Damn. Umm…I struggle with a lot of things. Finding the right words sometimes because English isn’t my first, not even my second language. I speak six languages, so it's sometimes hard to find the words to describe things.

Showing, not telling that’s another thing I struggle with.

That and if I have to keep a deadline to post something 🤣 Because it takes me forever to post anything I’m not 100% behind and happy with.

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

How much time you’ve got? I have over 30 wips, that want some desperate attention, and I always keep adding new wips, whenever something inspires me to write 😅

I’ve found some new inspo for Somewhere Only We Know 🥰 Apart from that I’d love to take another look at my two AU‘s Amber & my Nightbound series. So we’ll see what wips I can manage to finish 😅

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Sure. I’d love to get an outside opinion of my work and my characters that are so beloved and close to my heart 🩷

I actually tell people that I write fanfic and original work. And I’ve sent some samples their way and they liked it. Which makes me feel more confident in my writing (not saying it’s perfect, there’s always room for improvement, but it’s getting better).

As for which story to start? I’d say start with Only Love for Bryce and Luna. That was my first story of them and I consider it their start.

Then continue with Always & Forever and Go with the Flow.

Those were my first posted stories about Luna & Bryce and I think you’ll like them. It would give you a good understanding of my storytelling and my characters.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

There are a couple of authors I admire - Chloe Neil, Elise Kova, Nalini Singh, Rachel Caine (R.I.), Rebecca Yarros, and many more. They have influenced and shaped my writing, my fantasy world-building, and, of course building my characters. These authors know how to tell great stories, which makes me admire them so much.

As for fanfic writers who’ve inspired me? I’d love to give a special shoutout to one of my closest friends who’s been my beta reader for almost anything @annieruok She’s an amazing person and writer. Thanks so much for all the times listening to my ramblings about scenes and characters 🩷

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

My Nightbound series hands down. That is a story that really deserves to be on the big screen or as a Netflix show. I’m not picky.

I’d love to see Grey, Gretel and Hänsel kick some ass. It’s a unique enough story to garner some attention 🥰 I’ve worked really hard to write it and it took me a year to come up with chapters, character names and so forth.

Also Somewhere Only We Know would be cool to see on the big screen. I’d probably weep from joy if any of my stories were ever developed as a movie or series 🥰🥹

17- Do you write original fiction?

Yes, I actually do. I have several original works in my Google docs. And just recently, I had an idea for another original story (I don’t feel comfortable sharing it yet) 🥰 But let’s just say it’s fun to come up with the characters and world-building and everything in between.

18 - What other hobbies do you have?

Reading books, trying out new recipes in the kitchen. This also reminds me I need to exercise more 🤣

Taking walks & going shopping.

Hanging out with friends and binge watching shows and movies on Disney+ and Netflix. Just trying to enjoy every single moment that every day has to offer 🩷

19 - What’s your favorite emoji?

It’s a toss between these three 🥰😍🩷 (What can I say I love pink 🩷 not just because of the new Barbie movie and the pinkmania 🩷)

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

First, I wanted to say thank you to everyone. For being picked as writer of the month is a huge honor 🥰 Thank you to everyone who has ever taken the time to read my stories, reblog them, and leave some unbelievably nice words.

I’m very grateful that you guys took the time to shower me with love. Sometimes, I wonder what I did to deserve some of your nice words and love. I also wanted to give a special shoutout to some of the people who are very dear to me. 🩷

Thank you guys for supporting me. Being there for me - through great and not so great times - I‘ll never be able repay your kindness 🩷 You guys make me strive to be a better version of myself and I couldn’t be more happy to call you my friends 🩷

@annieru0k @cariantha @txem @doriopenheart @mysticalgalaxy @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads @heavenssexiestangel @socalwriterbee @secretaryunpaid @ofmischiefandmedicine @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @takemyopenheart @quixoticdreamer16 @princess-geek @eleanorbloom

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc writer of the month #playchoices #choices the stories you play #writer of the month #peonierose #october 2023 #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic

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shepscapades · 2 months

Note

not you coming back just to remind me of my old pokemon obsession/j

I remember watching Pokemon XYZ series when I was younger (probably the closest thing to anime I've ever watched) I used to be a hardcore fan back then, used to watch many gameplays theories stuff and all...-

Pokemon were like,,, my only interest back then? Damn I used to be crazy about those creatures, still remember how whenever I was playing a Pokemon game my team was almost exclusively flying types (birds! I love them!) and an Eevee (later one of the eeveelutions, probably vaporeon)

I don't recall watching your animatic in the past but it feels very familiar to me like some kind of deja vu so it's possible I've actually seen it before! And I must say it has a very nostalgic feel to it! I can see how much you've improved since then but the animatic still is very cool! I love it <3

(ALSO I almost forgot how much I loved Sycamore's design back then ghghhghghgh he's such a pretty man)

Welp, now I go back to watching Welsknight and some other Pokemon animatics because you messed with my algorithm and led me into diving into an old obsession -

LMAOOO MAY <3 I’m so sorry for the YouTube algorithm that’s so funny XD yeah idk, Pokémon’s one of those things that never left me— mcyt has been at the forefront of my hyperfixations for a very long while but I still always play the new games and have brief Pokémon obsessions every now and then hehe (also!!! flying pokemon and eevee beloved!!! <333333)

Funny enough, it always happens at times like these when most of my Drawing Brain+Brainrot is taken up by school or professional work, bc my free time is instead spent playing games I can zone out to like Pokémon :>

About 2 months ago I picked up Legends Arceus for the first time since I didn’t get to finish it two years ago, and seeing cheeky references to the characters I grew up with + the insane plot that is this game gripped me so tightly that I’ve kinda been in a Pokémon spiral (/pos) ever since LOL. I’ve been a submas freak lately and if anyone who has ever been into the funny train men has me on discord they’ll know that my status is very telling <3 maybe I’ll post some of the background doodles I’ve been doing lately!! I’m such a freak about minecraft idk why I’m embarrassed to be equally freakish about the other ““game for children”” LMAO

#1-marigold-1 #ask #Pokémon #I also would like to stream sometime soon just to hang and work on my exhibition… that would be nice #I just gotta pick a day and stick to it bc whenevr I think about streaming i always psyche myself out #despite loving it every time once I actually get going #you know how that tasty executive dysfunction is <3 #anyway. touched and very happy that so many of u guys love Pokémon stuff =w=

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darkdarkroom · 2 years

Text

~ Don’t Get Me Wrong ~

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Every Saturday for the past three months, Eddie Munson has been dropping in to the record store where you work. And for the same amount of time, you’ve been pretending not to notice he’s just there to see you. It’s a game you’ve both been playing, but today is the day you bring it into the endzone. It’s a classic idiots sort-of-friends to lovers thing, with Eddie at his most adorably oblivious.

No warnings, just fluff and a very small hint at a sexy dream.

Author’s note: this is my first fic in over four years and I’m only too happy to be back on my bullshit for Eddie Munson - shame it’s the night before part 2 comes out. i like italics a little too much and can’t write kisses to save my life, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless. reader is as gender neutral as i can manage through editing - angel as a nickname is the only vaguely gendered term used. In a bid to get this out before part 2 drops I did not proof read - it is 2:45 am, i am not sorry. MASTERLIST

---------

No one could say that working at a record store is the greatest job in the world, but it certainly has its moments. Getting your hands on the latest tapes first? That’s pretty cool. Playing your favourite tracks whilst you work? Another great perk. Working the Saturday shifts? Mmm, not so hot.

At least they weren’t so hot, until one morning three months ago. After the Starcourt Mall had that freaky fire, Hawkins locals had needed to look elsewhere for their retail therapy. So, you’d been getting a lot of new customers in the weeks that followed, which was excellent for business, but less so for your peace of mind. Eventually things settled down, and you've been left with a few more regulars – including one particularly striking regular you’ve come to know very well.

The first time you’d met Eddie Munson, he spilled an entire blue raspberry slushie down his front upon tripping through the door. Naturally, he was mortified, but you?

You were enchanted.

Maybe it was the way he spoke at a hundred miles per hour as he tried to mop himself down with a single black handkerchief, or maybe it was how every time you told him it was okay, his cheeks would colour just a little bit more. Perhaps it was something in his eyes – oh, those eyes. Eddie’s eyes still stop you in your tracks every time, something in those soft pools of molten brown drawing you in like a magnet. It’s so unfair – one look and you were entirely done for.

Anyway, you’d felt incredibly sorry for the poor guy, insisting he take whatever band tee he desired as a gesture of goodwill - “The step is totally uneven, it’s an accident waiting to happen. Not your fault at all”.

Eddie had picked Metallica, doing his best to hide his delight at expanding what you now know to be an extensive collection. “This place is pretty cool,” he’d remarked, ducking into the backroom to get changed. “Might come in more often”.

And come in more often he did – every single Saturday since then. It hadn’t taken you long to start expecting his arrival, and then anticipating it. There’s a difference between the two states, you realise; expecting just means you know you’re gonna see him. Anticipating means you’re actively waiting for him.

This is exactly what you’re up to now: actively waiting for Eddie Munson. It’s close to 5:30, about the time he always shows his face. He’s only been late once, a few Saturdays ago – very late. You’d assumed he was out of town for some reason, but two minutes after closing time, you’d heard a frantic tapping at the window. How could you not take pity on him, standing with his gut wrenchingly sad face pressed against the glass and a fistful of dollar bills meant for the new Rolling Stones single. Letting him in had been a no brainer, though you’d gotten shit from your manager the next day.

The following week, after giving an entertaining and animated monologue about his band's latest gig, he’d suddenly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a can of soda – your favourite soda. It was going “spare”, you see, as he’d “accidentally” bought it but didn’t like the flavour. He'd sheepishly pushed it across the counter, heading out of the store in a rush before you could thank him.

He’s funny like that; cocky and attention-grabbing one second, and painfully self-conscious the next. The slightest compliment can reduce him to a blushing, stuttering mess, something you discovered when you told him you liked how his hair looked one morning. His eyes had widened, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his ripped jeans. “Uh, I, uh... I brushed it” he’d admitted, shuffling his weight from foot to foot. “Don’t always remember to do that”.

He remembers now. At least, he does every Saturday, but you’re careful not to draw attention to it.

After three months of regular conversations, the two of you have built something closely resembling friendship. Since day one, though, there’s been something else there. Something exciting, something electric.

Something impossible to resist.

Waking up for work has never been easier – you're not even thinking about work, you’re thinking about Eddie Munson. He’s in your daydreams, and your night dreams too, for that matter. There was that one particularly good dream, where you found yourself by lover’s lake and he had his van and -

Yeah, you can dwell on that one another time. Can't have anyone catching you with that faraway look on your face and asking what you’re thinking about now, can you? It’s hard to focus, though, when you know he could appear at any minute.

Oh.

There he is.

Eddie approaches from the other side of the street, his standard uniform of denim vest over leather jacket making him impossible to miss. You wonder what band tee he’s got on today – last week it was Dio, and the week before it was Ozzy... and why exactly have you remembered that, hmm? It seems that no matter how cool you play it on the outside, your mind is brimming with information about the gorgeous metalhead you can’t get enough of. Yeah, it’s clear as day – you've got it bad for Eddie Munson.

But if your judgement is correct, Eddie Munson has it just as bad for you – and today is the day you’re gonna do something about it.

He pauses at the roadside for a moment, looking from left to right as if deciding where to go next. As if he hasn’t done the same thing every Saturday for the past three months. You suppress a smile and pretend to look busy, shuffling a stack of tapes into place as you await his inevitable arrival. It’s a silly little game the two of you are playing, but it’s one you enjoy – he pretends he’s not there just for you, and you pretend you haven’t noticed.

You don’t have to look up to know he’s approaching. The jingle of those metal chains hitting his thigh with every step gives him away, and you risk a sideways glace as he stops to browse near the entrance. He has his back to you, thumbing through a stack of records as he stalls for time. Walking straight up to you would give the game away, so he always puts a little effort into his whole “just passing through” routine. It’s probably very convincing to the untrained eye, but you know him and the store a little too well: that’s where you keep the week’s top charting singles, and Whitney Houston has been number one for the past three weeks. He’s looked at exactly the same thing for the past two Saturdays, and unless his taste has drastically changed, there’s nothing remotely interesting to him there.

Still, you respect his commitment to the bit, keeping up your side of things by letting it play out however he chooses. A customer approaches the desk with an armful of tapes, and Eddie takes your distraction as an opportunity to move a little further in. He’s in the rock section now, this time rifling through the stacks with purpose. You know what he’s looking for, but he’s a little too late – the new AC/DC album sold out two days ago. You watch him realise this as you hand the customer her change, and he tries to reign in his obvious disappointment.

He waits for the customer to depart, before making a leisurely turn towards the counter. He’s now the only person in the store besides you, so it would be pointless to pretend not to notice him; you look up and smile warmly, his deep brown eyes meeting yours instantly.

Magnetic.

No matter how many times you play this game, you can’t help the way your heart jolts and your stomach twists at that first second of eye contact. Eddie Munson does something thrilling to you, something more addictive than anything you know he sells. It clearly has an impact on him also: he swallows hard, barely maintaining his attempt at a cool façade as he approaches you.

“'Afternoon, angel” he begins, placing his palms flat on the countertop as he smiles winningly at you.

Angel.

Now it’s you who’s trying the hardest to keep cool. He uses nicknames so breezily, but the effect they have on you is almost embarrassing – like he steals a little bit of your breath with every angel, sweetheart, or darling he tosses your way. One word from Eddie could reduce you to a daydreamy disaster on an off day, but today you’re not gonna let him win that easily – this is a game after all, and it’s time for your next move.

“Hey, Eddie! How’s it going?” you reply brightly, noting the flicker of delight in his eyes at the mention of his name. The first time you used it had him visibly flustered, seemingly surprised that you even knew who he was. God, how could you not? He was by far the most interesting person in this otherwise dreary town, but that fact seemed to be lost on him entirely. He’d written himself off a long time ago, but every time you use his name you remind him that you see him. It didn’t take you long to notice the effect it has on him, that little thrill never seeming to wear off.

Excellent.

“Ah, y’know, not too bad” he grins, before glancing over his shoulder to the rock section. It gives him a second to compose himself, a little more relaxed when he turns back to face you. “You don’t happen to have any more Who Made Who’s around here, do you?”

You pretend to think about this for a second, as he watches you hopefully. “The AC/DC record? Oh, I’m so sorry, it sold out like two days ago”

Eddie’s face drops, and he steps back from the counter slightly in his disappointment. It's like kicking a puppy, but you’ve gotta get him down a little further before you bring him back up again. “Yeah, it was gone waaaay quicker than we thought. Can’t even order in a new batch just yet, it’s impossible to get hold of a copy if you haven’t got one already”.

He seems genuinely put out, nodding in resigned acceptance as one ring-clad hand comes up to rub at his cheek. Music is the very blood that runs through his veins, so it makes sense that he’d be so deflated. You can’t bring yourself to drag this out any longer, so you move into the endzone with a tone of airy nonchalance. “Unless, of course, you happen to be friendly with the salesperson, who’s nice enough to keep a copy behind the till for you just in case you don’t come by in time”.

His head snaps up, eyes wide with renewed hope. “No way, you haven’t... have you?”

Without breaking his gaze, you reach behind the till and slowly reveal the cassette box you've kept hidden since the day the shipment arrived. Sure, your colleagues had teased you mercilessly about it ever since, but the sheer relief and delight on his lovely lovely face could make any amount of ridicule worth it.

Eddie pushes himself back from the counter, arms thrown above his head as he stares at you in wonder. His mouth gapes open, lips forming shapes that don’t quite make it into words; you’ve rendered him speechless, something which you – and anyone else who knows him, for that matter – would think to be impossible. Fighting to keep a victorious grin off your face, you tap at a few buttons on the cash register. “So should I ring this up, or...?”

“Yes, god yes” he manages finally, the words coming out in a breathless flurry of excitement. He approaches the counter once again, dipping a hand in his pocket to withdraw a beaten up leather wallet. “You... you’re something else” he adds, seemingly without thinking; the second the words leave his lips he falters, cheeks colouring and gaze dropping as he counts out a few bills. Before he can place them on the counter, though, you reach out your hand until it’s a fraction of an inch away from his.

“Seven dollars then, please” you tell him, palm open. Physical contact: it’s an unexplored frontier in your little game, and you’ve cornered him into making the icebreaking move. You’re on fire today, not least because of the heat you feel as his fingertips brush against yours for the very first time.

Hello.

It’s a gentle, innocent touch, but you can tell by the way his lips press together that it means as much to Eddie as it does to you. He lets his hand linger much longer than he probably should, those beautiful eyes flicking up to meet yours as he studies your response.

One heartbeat, then two, then three pass as you draw the moment out. Loud, insistent heartbeats that he’s probably close enough to hear, maybe even feel -

That’s enough now.

You grasp the bills and draw your hand away, turning to the cash register and away from his burning gaze. Try to calm down a little. You’re almost at the home stretch. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him compose himself, flexing the hand that touched yours as the other tugs self consciously at a lock of his hair. You count the bills into the cash drawer, exactly the right amount. No need for change, thank god; the last thing you need right now is more physical contact to addle your brain, if you want to bring this game to a perfect finish.

You slide his purchase across the counter, setting an easy smile on your face. “All yours”.

All his.

The tape, and you.

Have been since the first day you locked eyes across this damn record store.

“Thank you, so much. You’re a wonder” he says, sliding the tape into his pocket. “Honestly, I owe you one”.

Here we go.

“Oh yeah, you definitely do” you reply, leaning casually against the wall behind you.

Come on, Eddie, take the bait.

He takes a few steps back, and then one forwards, brow furrowed as if contemplating something.

You know you want to.

Eddie nods almost imperceptibly, decision made. “How about... how about dinner? I mean, how about I take you to dinner. Dinner with me. Obviously!” he rambles, eyes darting from side to side as he tries to regather his words into something far smoother than he’s currently managing. “That is if you’ve not got plans, or like... you know, if you even want to...”

As much as you’re enjoying him adorably losing his cool over finally asking you out, it’s time to land this thing.

“I’d love that!”

Eddie freezes, tongue poking out from between his blush-pink lips. “Really?”

“Yeah, dinner would be great”. And then, just to drive the point home: “Dinner with you. Obviously”.

He lets out a deep breath, unable to stop a beauteous smile from lighting up his entire face. ‘Okay, cool. Excellent” he says, a hint of relief mixed in with the joy he’s clearly feeling.

“We could do tonight, if you’re not busy? I finish here in like twenty minutes”.

Scheduled it two weeks ago, just in case.

How you’re still managing to keep it this cool on the outside is beyond you, your mind racing as you consider just how perfectly things have fallen into place. Dinner with Eddie. A dinner date? Shit’s getting real now.

“Not busy at all”.

He thinks for a moment, and you can almost see the moment an idea clicks into place. “Weather’s nice, don’t think it’s gonna rain tonight. You fancy heading up to the lake for a picnic?”

He watches you carefully, still slightly unsure of himself. So oblivious – there’s no chance in hell you could ever say no to that offer.

Hang on, the lake?

Don’t think about your dream, do NOT think about your dream.

“That would be perfect!” you smile warmly, doing your best to offset his nervous energy.

It seems to have worked; he settles into a laid-back stance, head cocked to one side and arms folded across his chest. “Yeah, cool. My van’s parked round the corner, I’ll be the guy with the sweet tatts in the driver’s seat” he quips, taking a few steps backwards. “I’ll grab some food and see you in twenty, angel”.

Eddie turns and strides out of the store, shoulders back and head held high. Ahh, he probably thinks this is all his idea. That’s cute. He’s cute, the boost of confidence looking good on him. God, if you’re this caught up in him already, how are you gonna make it through dinner?

The next twenty minutes pass all too quickly and yet maddeningly slow at the same time. You have a change of clothes in your bag, and make sure to give your hair a quick seeing to before you head out.

A date with Eddie Munson.

A date, with Eddie Munson.

Not that he’d called it a date, of course. Maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself here, maybe you’ve got the vibes wrong, maybe -

No, come on. You can read that man like a fucking phonebook, and every number in there is yours. This back and forth can only go on for so long – you're both ready for something more now.

--------------------------

You see him the second you round the corner, leaning up against the van with his shoulders hunched. His left hand plays with the rings on his right, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It takes a few moments for him to realise you’re there, but when he does his demeanour changes entirely. He stands up straighter, puffing his chest out as he gestures to the van. “Your carriage awaits” he says, opening the passenger side door with a flourish. Showmanship – that’s something he’s always excelled at.

That same gentlemanly spirit emerges once you arrive at the lake, with Eddie rushing out to open your door before you even have a chance to unclip your seatbelt. He reaches out to take your hand, steadying you as you hop down into the meadow. Like earlier, you let your hands linger just a little longer than necessary.

The catch in his breath is audible, and sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

He has to let your hand drop as he closes the passenger side door, lips pressed together as he regains his composure.

So, here you are.

Lover’s Lake.

It’s a still night, with the soft spring breeze pushing ripples across the dark water. Quiet, too; you look around for signs of other late-night picnickers, but it seems you’re the only pair around. Eddie stands and observes the scenery for a moment. From the corner of your eye can see his attention turning back to you, his hands diving back into his pockets as he takes it all in.

You know exactly what he’s feeling – this is unfamiliar but exciting territory. Being alone together in the van was something, but now you’ve got this beautiful view and the promise of an entire evening for just the two of you. A picnic was a bold idea. A romantic idea. He has to know what he’s gotten himself into, and you’re certainly not complaining. This is definitely a date, and Eddie’s definitely keen to get things going.

He rifles through the back of the van, letting out a victorious “Ah ha!” when he emerges brandishing a rolled-up tartan blanket. “Knew this would come in handy someday”. A paper grocery bag is next, which he tucks under one arm, before turning to flash you a winning smile. “Wanna pick a spot?”

You nod your head to the left, where the bank starts to slope towards the water. “View looks good from there”.

“Over there it is!” he declares, before marching over to get set up. He’s diligent and thoughtful, smoothing out the creases in the blanket before laying out the food with great care. Once he’s satisfied with how it looks, he turns to you for approval.

He needs that, you realise. His stance is confident, but his eyes betray a hint of uncertainty. “I’ve never actually had a picnic before” he admits, messing a hand through his hair. “There’s some bread and stuff for sandwiches, and I grabbed some strawberries for something sweet... sorry, I should’ve checked what you like”.

Mentally he’s kicking himself right now, and you’re only too quick to ease his concerns. “Eddie, this looks perfect, thank you!”

The compliment hits the spot. Eddie relaxes instantly, allowing himself a satisfied smile as he surveys his work. “You’re very welcome, angel. Hungry?”

“Starving!”

-----------------

Any worries you may have had earlier are washed away before you’ve even moved onto dessert. Conversation with Eddie flows so easily, the two of you laughing and talking like this is the most natural thing in the world. Without the barrier of a counter between the two of you, you find yourself moving closer to him without even realising it.

He talks at great length about his band, throwing his head back as he mimes a guitar solo that’s totally gonna bring the Hideout roof down on Friday night. “You should come!” he exclaims, swaying a little as he speaks. “It’s not the biggest of crowds, but we always make sure it’s a rad night”.

“I’d love to!”

He seems genuinely surprised by your enthusiasm, leaning back on his hands as he studies you. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“No, I mean it. I’ve heard so much about your music, I’d love to see you perform” you assure him, tucking your legs up under you. “Why are you so surprised?”

Eddie hesitates, one hand tugging up a clump of grass as he ponders over the answer.

“You’re just... you’re just like, the coolest person in Hawkins” he says, looking away from you to stare out at the lake. “It’s kinda unexpected that you’d wanna spend time with me”.

Honestly.

How oblivious can one guy be?

“Eddie... I need you to really think about this right now. Why are we here tonight?”

He turns back to face you with a frown, unsure of where you’re going with the question. “Because I asked you?”

“Yes, and why did you ask me?

“Because I owe you one”

You’re getting closer to the point now, more insistent even as he remains utterly clueless. “And why do you owe me one?”

“Because you kept back a tape that...”

Eddie falters, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Because you kept back a tape for me. One you knew I’d like”. His voice is quiet, eyes narrowed at the ground as he considers the sequence of events.

“And why would I do that?”

The pause that follows your question is drawn out, but you don’t rush him. His eyes widen, as if seeing the situation clearly for the first time. The hesitation you see in them is replaced by something stronger, something brighter:

Hope.

“Because... because you like me?”

He phrases it as a question, but the emphasis on the like tells you he understands perfectly.

“Because I Like you” you confirm.

He lets out a gentle breath, cheeks colouring as he lets his knees drop. The smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth is irrepressible, but his shyness won’t let him meet your eyes just yet. His voice comes out as little more than a whisper - “I like you too”.

Just saying the words out loud embolden him, and he finally manages to bring his gaze up to yours.

How do his eyes still get you so soft, every time? Little creases decorate their outer corners as he smiles, shuffling closer to you on the blanket.

“I really like you” he continues, “Like... seeing you in the shop is the highlight of my week. Yeah, the music’s cool, but I only really care that you’re there”.

“So it’s not the Whitney Houston records you keep coming back for?” you tease, and he nudges you with his shoulder in response – he’s that close to you now, your knees touching as you let yourself lean into him.

“Oh, Whitney’s a babe, but you... you’re really something special”.

He means it, not looking away like he did when the words slipped out earlier. Eddie owns the compliment, swallowing hard as he reaches out to rest a hand on your waist. “Knew from the first moment I saw you, angel. Just didn’t think I had a hope in hell of getting you”.

You can’t suppress the smile his words provoke, moving in closer as he pulls you into him. “Eddie, you had me from day one”.

“Day one?! Why did we wait three whole months then?” he asks, mock incredulously. His voice is still soft, though, and his face is barely two inches away from yours. When you don’t answer, his other hand comes up to brush across your cheek. The touch is featherlight, the callouses on his fingertips a reminder of exactly who it is you’re so close to right now.

A moment passes, as the two of you let the tension build as high as you can take it. It’s Eddie who relents, his heavy-lidded gaze soft and filled with desire. “No more waiting” he breathes, before he gives into the moment and closes the gap between you.

Eddie Munson is kissing you.

His lips move fervently against your own, warm and soft but more and more urgent as the kiss deepens. Your hands are in his hair, and the hand on your waist pulls you into him, your bodies pressing close together. Breathing becomes irrelevant; to kiss and only to kiss is the all-consuming thought.

You’ve both been waiting for this moment, and are making the most of every single second. It doesn’t matter that you’re in the middle of the meadow in full view of anyone who may pass by. This kiss is intimate, euphoric, everything you’re thinking conveyed better in actions than in words.

You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing for, and you don’t care. When your lips finally part, Eddie holds you close to him, unwilling to let you go just yet.

“Wow” he whispers, his breath ghosting across your lips.

“Wow” you agree, as you smile up at him. He looks perfect, softly lit by the moon as he holds you against his chest. Neither of you speak for a moment, basking in the glow as your breathing slowly returns to normal.

Who needs that dream when this is what reality gives you? Granted, it didn’t end here, but -

“What are you thinking?” he asks suddenly, his voice snapping you back to the present.

“Oh! Nothing”

It comes out a little higher pitched than you’d aimed for, and Eddie notices. He leans back a little to get a good look at your face, curious eyes searching for clues. “Everything okay?” he says, the hand on your back moving to stroke up your arm. “My jacket is all yours if you’re feeling cold”.

He’s too sweet for his own good, honestly, the concern on his face plucking at your heartstrings. Those puppy dog eyes are hard to resist for too long, and you let out a deep sigh before attempting to explain.

“I’m fine, it’s just... I had this dream...”

You let your words trail off, unsure of how to continue. Eddie’s eyes light up as he leans in closer, head cocked to one side. “A dream, you say?”

“Mmhmm”.

“And was I in this dream?” he asks, his tone playful as he leans ever closer. Embarrassed, you move to bury your face in his chest, but his hand comes up to gently but firmly cup your chin. He holds you there, eyes searching yours with a molten intensity. “Was I, angel?”

“Yes, Eddie, you were” you say, enjoying the glint of delight that appears in his eyes. He makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, thumb stroking your skin as he revels in your closeness.

“You gonna tell me about this dream?”

It's tempting, it really is. Eddie could get anything out of you if he really wanted, but you know he’d never push it. This is information for another day, so you smile softly and let your hand come to rest on his shoulder. “Eventually”

“Eventually?” he echoes, amusement playing across his lips. “I can live with eventually”.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture so sweet and full of adoration that you can almost feel your heart skip a beat.

Dreams can wait; how you are right now, with Eddie Munson? This is so much better.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #joseph quinn #x reader #edited to add the formatting tumblr killed #mine

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dameronology · 1 year

Text

you and me [joel miller] - 1/2

"now i've had time to think it over, we're much older and the bone's too big to bury" - jaded, miley cyrus. a.k.a the one where you and joel see each other again and don't know what the fuck to do

warnings: angst, swearing, break-ups, swearing again because my god there is a lot, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, no tlou 2 spoilers but probably some spoilers from the show. ok i think that's it.

this is my first full length joel fic and tbh i'm not even sure i've got the hang of his character lol. also, it's been about four years since i played the game and i'm writing this from memory of that and the show so pls forgive any inaccuracies. hope you enjoy. xx

jazz

p.s there will deffo be a part 2 to this lol dw

2 0 1 8

Life outside the Quarantine Zone was different.

It was both better and worst; better because there was no military breathing down your back, but worst because the Infected roamed free. It made Joel more tense - even when he kept you firmly behind him, rifle ready to go and finger itching on the trigger - to know that they could be anywhere. Sure, the military sucked but the biggest threat now was the Infected, and you'd come to learn a long time ago that there was no point arguing with his overprotectiveness. It was warranted, after everything he'd been through, so you operated under three rules: he went first, you went second, and if anyone was going to die first, it was going to be him. That last part was the one you loathed the most but he wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

Still, there were moments outside the QZ where he could let his guard down. When you were far enough away from civilisation, and far enough away from any hoards, he would let himself exist beside you, peacefully and at rest. Those nights camping - sometimes on the way to Bill and Frank's, or on a smuggling run - were his favourite. Sometimes it was beneath the stars, or beneath a tangle of trees. It was a tiny insight into what things could have been like in another life, without outbreaks and infected and constantly being on the move. They were moments he craved but so often, you found yourself hating them. Mostly because you knew they would eventually come to an end, but also because it was proof that you could exist out of the QZ. You'd felt like the place had been suffocating you for months. For you, it felt like a death sentence. Joel didn't love them either but he liked that you were both safe there. He could easily find you amongst the walls and you only ever left together. The thing that he thought was keeping you together was actually, in your mind, the thing that was driving you apart.

You'd pose the idea to him (for the tenth time) on a cold night, about four miles outside of the Boston QZ. The two of you had set up camp in the thickness of a forest; your tent was older than your respective ages combined and the fire was dwindling, but you were both content. Joel was leant against a tree, an arm wrapped around you and keeping you firmly to his side, free hand ready on his gun.

"I don't think I want to go back."

Joel peered down at you, quirking an eyebrow. "The hell are you talking about?"

"To the QZ," you said. "I don't want to go back to the QZ."

"This again?" he sighed - but you couldn't ignore the way his grip on you grew tighter. Tenser. "We've spoken about this a thousand times. The QZ is safe. It's...it's our home."

"Just because our stuff is that doesn't mean it's home," you murmured. "After this run, we could just take our stuff and go. We know the way out, we know how to run at this point, don't we?"

"It's dangerous out here," Joel reminded you. "We know how to be out here for limited periods of time. Those routes, those safe spaces and uninfected areas will run out eventually. So will our resources."

You sighed, sniffing. "Yeah. You're right. It's a silly idea."

"Hey...look, baby, don't get all mopey on me now," he shuffled slightly to the side, gently placing his hand on your cheek. "The main thing is that we have each other, wherever that may be. We've just gotta stick to the QZ for now but I promise, I'll get us out eventually. Just hang in there."

"Of course," you gave him a smile.

"It's you and me," he quietly added. "That's what matters."

"You and me," you'd replied. "I promise."

Still, Joel couldn't deny that he'd seen the light in you withering - the light that seemed to come back every time you were outside of the QZ. He knew you were stubborn; that once you had an idea in your head, that was it.

That's why he wasn't surprised to find you gone two weeks later.

2 0 2 3

Joel, my love,

I'm sorry. I'm never going to stop being sorry, but I tried to tell you a thousand times and you never listened.

I couldn't live that way any longer. I wanted to leave the QZ the day I got there, but then I met you, and I stayed longer than I ever imagined. You made it bearable - more than that. I just couldn't carry on anymore, especially knowing that the outside world may not be all that bad. It would be even better with you, but I can't force you to do something so drastic when you don't want to. That's not fair on you, but forcing myself to stay wouldn't be fair on me. Putting myself first feels like the worst thing in the world right now, but I have to do this. For me. I hope you can understand. I love you and I don't think I'll ever stop. I hope we cross paths again one day. It's you and me, always.

Joel Miller carried two things with, always. Three things, actually; his rifle, the letter you wrote him, and the grief that you'd left in your wake. It wasn't your fault - and Joel didn't blame you, not one bit - but he couldn't help but feel like it was his. You'd told him you'd been struggling and as he often did with his own emotions, he'd forced you to swallow it down. He thought that would have kept you together but unsurprisingly, it had driven you away.

Life, as it always had, went on. People came and went - though you never came back - and before long, Joel found himself trekking through Wyoming for the second time. Ellie had consumed all his priorities at that point. She had healed more than one of his wounds, but the night she'd found that letter in his bag and began asking questions had re-awoken Joel's yearning for you.

"Joel Miller, a relationship man? I never would have thought," she'd joked. And she hadn't really stopped asking questions since. She'd wanted to know how you met, how you fell in love, and most of all, why you'd left. Though, it didn't take a genius to guess.

The first time Joel had been in Jackson, he hadn't actually spent much time in Jackson. He'd been in the workshop, then in the bar with Tommy, and then he'd left with Ellie not long after. Now that he was there for the foreseeable future, he found himself wandering one morning. Ellie was still dead to the world, and he'd taken it as an opportunity to see what the fuss was actually all about.

Joel had never believed in ghost towns; maybe that was what this place had been for a while, but most of his ghosts resided back in Texas and Boston. Not Jackson. He had no history here; no one except from Tommy knew he was. Maybe he liked it that way. Maybe that was his chance for a fresh start, for him, and for Ellie...and for you, apparently.

He felt like he had seen a ghost the first time he saw you again. Coming in from patrol with Tommy and Maria, you were leading a horse at the front of the pack. You didn't look any older - if anything, the freedom and comfort that Jackson had brought you had de-aged you slightly. You were radiant; beautiful and shining and with the spark that Joel had always feared he'd strangled out of you by forcing you to stay in the QZ.

He hadn't meant to call out your name. It just sort of happened. It had been a whisper at first, actually, growing into a shout as he crossed the town square and towards the gates. You'd recognised his voice straight away but you hadn't actually believed it to be him. It wasn't until you saw him coming towards you that you realised. It hit you like a truck; actually Joel hit you like a truck, because he hadn't really thought about hugging you, and you in too much disbelief to hug him, so you sort of just fell to the ground in a pile-of-you-and-Joel-and-snow.

"What the fuck, Joel?!" your words had been muffled, on account for the mouthful of snow you had. "What the...what are you doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"You didn't answer my question," you shot back. Joel stood up, sticking out his hand to help you up. You were happy to see him - and he was happy to see you - but before the happiness, there was the other a thousand complex emotions that had risen in your time apart. "How on Earth did you get here from Boston?"

"Couldn't I be asking you all the same things?!" he'd demanded. He sighed, then, and faltered for a moment. "Shit. I can't believe it's you."

Joel took a deep breath, anger fading; he finally held his arms open to you, taking you into a warm, desperate hug for the first time in five years. Your bodies practically thudded together, arms tangled into one as you clung onto him. You didn't regret leaving - not one bit, now that you were here, not that you were free - but god, there had been days where you would have traded all of that freedom for one more day with Joel. There were no radios here, so you'd hadn't a clue if he was even still alive.

It had been worst for him, because he did have a radio. And he spent days waiting by it, hearing story after story about people being found dead, or new Infected being found by the walls of QZ. They had matched your description on more than one occasion, and after a while, he'd just assumed the worst.

Tommy cleared his throat. "I won't ask, but if you need a moment, the bar is empty."

You glanced at Joel. "Yeah. Thanks Tommy."

Trudging to the bar, with Joel in tow, you walked in silence. It wasn't that you didn't have anything to say, it was just that you didn't know where to start. You'd gone over this scenario a thousand times in your head but now that it had actually happened, you were speechless.

The bar was, as promised, completely dead. You stepped inside and locked the door behind you, heading straight to the whiskey shelf. A double Glen Morangie for you, and a double of the cheapest stuff for Joel. That had always been his favourite.

You took a seat opposite him, sliding the drink to him.

Joel's dark eyes flickered to the drink and then back up to you. "You remembered?"

"I didn't forget a single thing," you shot back. "I promise."

"It's funny - and forgive me if I sound shitty for saying this, but I hope you can understand my position right now - but your promises...I can't say they mean much," he murmured.

You faltered slightly, heart dropping in your chest. "I don't blame for you being angry at me, Joel. I left you and obviously that hurt but can't you see it from my perspective? I was drowning. You could see that I was fucking drowning and you just...you ignored me. You brushed it aside because of what you wanted-"

"- I wanted you," he cut you off. Joel downed his drink in one gulp, slamming the glass back on the table. "All I fucking wanted was you."

"You wanted me in the QZ," you reminded him. "I told you I couldn't stay. A thousand times, Joel, and you ignored me on every single occasion."

"And leaving was the solution?"

"Yeah," you said firmly. "Yeah, it was. I wondered for a while, maybe two years or so, and then I joined a bunch of other stragglers and we ended up here."

"And Jackson isn't suffocating?"

"When I can come and go as I please? When we have running water, electricity, houses and infrastructure?" you couldn't help but let out a derivative laugh. "For what it's worth, I've missed you."

Joel's angry guard quickly came down with your admission. He reached a hand out across the table, brushing a thumb over your palm.

"I've missed you too," he murmured. "The people on the radio...they always spoke about finding bodies and Infected, ones that matched your description. I assumed after a while you were dead."

"I'm sorry," you softly said. "I wish you knew how many times I thought about turning back. Even recently, I thought about it, but I was scared I was gonna come back and find you dead, or even worst that I would find you alive and that you wouldn't want to know-"

"- you think that me rejecting you is worst than me dying?" Joel raised an eyebrow, trying to fight back a smile. "You're always so fuckin' dramatic."

You smiled. "Yeah, I know."

"It hurt, y'know," he went quieter again, voice dropping to a whisper. "You leaving...I knew you spoke about it but I didn't think you'd do it. Not without me, at least. Not when I promised to try and get us out-"

"- you hurt me too, Joel," you admitted. "It was all well and good to say one day, I promise but when is one day? Every time I tried to tell you how I was feeling, you shut me down. You shut me out and then you shut me down."

"So you're sayin' I drove you away?"

You paused for a moment; you could have denied it, you could have said it was all your own doing and that Joel's purposeful ignorance to your suffering wasn't relevant. He wouldn't have believed you. There was no point in denying what he already knew was true.

"Yeah," you shrugged. "You did. And I'm sorry about it, okay? I'm sorry that I left, but I didn't do it because I stopped loving you, or because I wanted to get away from you. I had to get away from everything and there hasn't been a single fucking day since I left that I haven't thought about you, or missed you, or wished that you'd come with me..."

You stopped then, barely able to swallow the lump in your throat or ignore the tears that had formed in your eyes. Joel was feeling a too - maybe just not as visibly - but he so desperately wanted to take his words back.

"I don't know what I'm meant to do now," you continued. "Now that you're here...I don't know how long for-"

"- for the foreseeable future," he said. "I have a kid with me. She's not my kid, but she is my kid and....she's the best thing that happened to me since you. Don't tell her I said that."

You smiled slightly. "The foreseeable future, huh?"

"Yeah. This seems like the best place to be, compared to the rest of fuckin' country," Joel replied. "Especially if you're here."

"Right," you nodded, smile not faltering. "I'm glad you're here. Despite everything."

He raised an eyebrow. "Despite everything?"

"You gotta understand, Joel, I'm over the fucking moon to see you. To know that you're alive, and well, and that..." you paused, trailing off.

One thing you hadn't expected to feel when you saw him again was hesitance. Anger, and resentment, and fucking hesitance. It was something you hadn't realised you were harbouring, but knowing that the man you loved had purposefully ignored the way you felt - even five years ago - hurt. You just hadn't realised how much til now, and seeing him had wrenched all those unhealed wounds right up, tearing them from the back of your brain and making them fresh all over again. Especially when he'd had the audacity to be angry at you - maybe rightfully so - but then not understanding why you might be angry at him.

There was an elephant in the room: what happened now? Did you get back together? Forget about everything that had happened, so that you could be happy again?

No. That ship had sailed. It had sailed, and then it had hit an iceberg and sank, and it had whatever versions of you and Joel that had existed then down with it.

You grabbed your drink, downing the whiskey in one gulp in the same way Joel had just moments earlier. "I'll see you around Joel."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joe miller imagines #joel miller #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou angst

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