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kittyball23 · 2 months

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I made myself laugh thinking about Broppy first time. I can see Branch and Poppy talking about it with each other and wanting to do it so they have plans on doing the deed the next day or so.

What made me laugh is that I can imagine Branch panicking and planning everything out like doing research like “how to pleasure your girl in one thousand ways” or “how to dirty talk” when the day comes, he definitely has the rose petals all over the place, mostly surrounding the bed, and the most comfortable sheets then he try’s the dirty talk but failing badly.

Then Poppy’s reaction be like: 😍🥰🤭😊🤨☺️😊🥹

I can see her start getting confused then get happy cause she knows Branch is trying then she tells they don’t that ‘How To’ stuff and let it happen naturally.

I loved this Ask so much I made it into a little Valentines Day fic :3

...Are You Ready for It? (a Trolls fanfic)

This is it.

This was it. This was really, really it.

Branch paced around, thinking, rubbing his hands together anxiously. After a moment, he took yet another glance at the watch in his Hug Time bracelet.

She’s coming soon.

Soon was right. Soon was in about ten minutes or so. And once she was here…

Branch gulped. Then he took a deep breath. Easy does it. There was no reason to panic… was there? No! his brain sternly reminded him. You’ve got everything ready. The blue Troll, however, didn’t listen. He had to do one last check. Plus, the pacing back and forth was driving him nuts.

He hurriedly scrambled back into his room, only to find it as ideally arranged to the setup he wanted. But with the way he was feeling, rationality was thrown out the window. He needed a distraction, or surely, the waiting alone would only continue to make him restless. So out went perfectly lit candles only to be relit, stopped was the record he had on only to be replayed, sheets that were already smoothed out were attempted to be smoothed out even further and -

Wait, what’s that?

Branch perked an ear, hearing the distinctive whirring of the elevator platform, and its light clang as it reached the bottom. Then -

“Branch?”

Trolly moly… she’s here!

Branch abandoned his doings and quickly dashed back out, meeting the pink Troll.

“Oh, hey, Poppy!” He tried making his voice cheery, hoping she wasn’t seeing through it and noting the undertone of unpreparedness he felt.

I’m SUPPOSED to be crazy-prepared.

“Hey, Branch,” she cooed, almost shyly, hands behind her back and foot shuffling on the floor. “I, um… hope you don’t mind me being early?”

Early? Branch peeked at his watch again. Oh. She was early. Six or seven minutes. “What? Of course, not, Poppy,” he assured.

Oh my hair… does she want to get STARTED early??

“Oh good,” she said, sounding relieved. Then, her expression changed to curiosity as the trail of red on the floor caught her eye. A trail, she realized of rosepetals.

Branch saw her looking, and, putting on his most suave voice, extended an arm out and asked, “Do you want to know where it leads?”

She looked even more curious with Branch’s offer, and accepted. “Indeed.” The Pop Queen smirked, following him to what turned out to be the bedroom….

… one flawlessly decorated to fit their needs.

“Wow,” Poppy breathed, because, it sure was a breathtaking scene. She felt like she had walked onto the set of the most romantic movie being filmed. The natural earthen brown of the room was a lovely shade with the way that the glow of the various candles cast soft beams, the scent of warm lavender and vanilla wafting gently in the air from them. There was some music gently playing from the record on the nightstand, playing a slow, serene tune. But the bed stood out the most, though, with its plethora of roses and rosepetals alike. Branch plucked one of the roses off the sleek, white comforter and popped it into his mouth. “So,” he asked, “do you like what you see?” (Only, with the rose already in his mouth, it sounded more like “Sfo, fu you ike fut you fee?”)

Branch slapped himself mentally. This is probably too much anyway! he scolded, the way Poppy was carefully considering everything she was seeing.

“Well… this is really nice,” she finally commented, turning to him with a soft smile. “So… should we, um… just do it?”

Branch didn’t know why the question surprised him so much. That was the whole purpose of why they’d set aside this specific time on this specific day. Why wouldn’t they get on to doing it? He removed the rose and wrung it in his hands. “S-sure,” he stuttered, scouring his brain to remember every detail of Spice Up Your Life: Tips and Tricks for Bedroom Beginners, and the copy of 1001 Ways to Pleasure Your Lady from which he’d borrowed from Clay.

So, as Poppy went over to sit atop his bed, he blurted out the first turn-on he could think of.

“So, ya like jazz?”

When Poppy gave him a baffled look, Branch realized his mistake. Oh, I’m so, so, so, so STUPID! What was he thinking?? Jazz was what almost had them done for on their journey touring to the other tribes!! Now his hand was really itching to slap himself in the face.

He tried correcting himself before she replied. “I-I-I mean… um, forget I said that,” he tittered, pulling something out of his vest pocket.

Poppy raised a brow. “Is that soap?”

“It sure is,” he said, placing the bars down on the counter. “Figured we’d need it, you know, with how down and dirty we’re getting tonight…” Believing his props were cleverly used, Branch licked a finger, touched it to his bum and made a pssst sizzling sound, as if he was waaay too hot and bringing sexy back.

The pink troll was quite confused. Then, she burst out laughing. She laughed so much, tears formed at the corners of her eyes!

Branch pouted. Gosh, that was horrible. He already blew a corny pickup line, and now he gave her that cheesy display? If an award for the most mood-killing boyfriend existed, he was certain he would be the one to receive it!

“Oh, Branch,” Poppy giggled. “You are so…so… ”

“Dorky? Ridiculous? Unnecessarily-over-the-top?” he suggested. She may as well say it. It was true.

Poppy held onto his hands. “I was going to say precious,” she said. "I appreciate it all. And... I don't know much about how exactly the build-up and stuff to this kind of thing is like, but something tells me that we just kinda let it happen. You know… naturally."

"Ah, right," Branch agreed. "I'm kinda guessing that too." Then he also had a good laugh. After that, Poppy switched the classical record to one that played BroZone songs, made enough room for Branch to sit next to her, and talked and laughed all evening with her boyfriend. Neither engaged in the activities that they'd originally intended for that night, but Branch and Poppy still enjoyed themselves fully, simply for the company they found in having each other.

__________________________________________ A/N: Happy Valentines Day folks :)

#trolls #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes #kittyball answers #thanks for the ask!#grown up stuff fanfiction #valentines day

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years

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Looking forward to the “Gerald plays it cool but secretly loves Jaskier’s singing” I can’t believe it’s not Fanon. That’s my favorite trope! :D Also who wouldn’t think Jaskier sounds amazing based on his Netflix voice at least!

Ask and ye shall receive!

I Can’t Believe it’s Not Fanon

Facts that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but are in fact, book canon.

Geralt plays it cool, but he secretly thinks Jaskier has a beautiful voice.

We know Dandelion is famous and renowned. But singers aren’t always necessarily famous because they have the most beautiful voices. They can have decent voices and just be good entertainers, very attractive, have catchy songs, etc. But we actually know that Dandelion’s voice is enchanting. In fact, it is so beautiful, it has saved his life multiple times.

One time, it soothes a werewolf.

Right before dawn, while it was still dark, a hungry, vicious werewolf crept up to their camp, but saw that it was Dandelion, so he listened for a moment, then went on his way.

The Sword of Destiny pg 246

Another time, it keeps the dryads from killing him. The dryads, who kill any man on sight without mercy, spare his life because as soon as he is in arrow shot, he sits down and sings. Instead of killing him, a group of dryads emerge and listen to him sing. Then they demand that he sing more.

Geralt however, won’t openly express admiration of his voice. When he finds Dandelion serenading the dryads he says:

“Dandelion.”

“Geralt!”

“Yes, it’s me. You can stop that racket now.”

But later, we see that he knows which ballads are Dandelion’s and which belong to other people. So we know he pays attention.

“The concert you gave was clearly to their liking. Now you’re ard táedh, “the great bard.” They’re waiting for the next part of ‘The Flower of Ettariel’. Do you know the rest? It’s not your ballad, after all.”

Time of Contempt, p210-212

In Season of Storms, Geralt also stubbornly refuses to express admiration for Dandelion’s voice. It’s a hilarious passage.

“You know, you've never congratulated me on my ballads," Dandelion suddenly spoke up. "I've composed and sung so many of them in your company. But you've never said: That was nice, I'd like you to play that again. You've never said that."

"You're right I haven't. Do you want to know why?"

"Yes."

"Because I've never wanted to"

"Would it be such a sacrifice?" asked the bard, not giving up. "Such a hardship? To say: Play that again, Dandelion. Play As Time Passes."

“Play it again, Dandelion. Play As Time Passes."

"You said that quite without conviction."

"So what? You'll play it anyway."

"You'd better believe it."

--Season of Storms, pg 351

However, despite Geralt’s protests (honestly he probably just thinks that Dandelion has a big enough ego already lol), the narrator tells on him.

In Sword of Destiny, Geralt is listening to Dandelion and Essi sing and the narrator tells us how he really feels.

"Geralt lay on a makeshift bed of spruce branches with his hands under his head and thought he had never heard such beautiful voices or such beautiful ballads.

--Sword of Destiny, pg 245

So there you have it. Canon confirmation that Geralt thinks Dandelion has one of the most beautiful voices he has ever heard.

And I like to think that Dandelion’s music is one way he makes Geralt’s life that much better.

In stories set in medieval times with no tv, movies, or recorded music, storytellers and troubadours are luxuries.

So Dandelion is a luxury that Geralt can afford because Dandelion just needs some love and the odd adventure, and Geralt has plenty of both of those things.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #i can’t believe it’s not fanon #canon or fanon

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springbloggy · 10 months

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Springys guide to finding new songs (spongs)

I was inspired by @pastamansta's post on finding new movies and according to my last fm account I have 24,576 scrobbles which is quite a bit. So I will give some tips on how to find new stuff as well as general tips to listening to music. Note I am more of a songs guy than an album/disography guy but I will try to give tips for that kinda stuff too.

Finding new music

Spotify

Most of my music discoveries come from spotify, so I will list tips for that first.

First, don't limit yourself to discover weekly/that weird AI DJ thing they have now. Find some more playlists to listen to! Here's ones I have saved on my discover folder, for example.

As you can see, not only do I have spotify's Discover Weekly, but I also have three based on record labels, one based on a random radio station I once found, two reddit ones (rip reddit), and one based on a music review website I like.

There's also websites that can hook into your spotify account and make your music discovery more interesting.

Skilley is a website that has sadly locked a lot of their functions behind a paywall over the years. But the functions that are still free are very good, most importantly, the search function to find new songs based on old favorites.

Obscurify is a website that checks how obscure your tastes are, then recommends a few songs based on your tastes. Pretty fun.

Radionewify is a website that claims to find new songs you haven't heard yet based on your tastes. I think its pretty accurate.

Sort your music is what I use for my discovery playlists. I like to first make things alphabetical, use sort your music to make each alphabetical playlist go from most energetic song to least, then save it all in one big playlist. Because I'm too organized for my own good.

Spotify dedup finds duplicate songs in your playlists so you never have to listen to a duplicate song ever again.

I also suggest making one playlist for your "top favorite songs" to add and remove from over time. This has helped tremendously in my discovering.

(Online) radio stations

Sometimes old school is cool! If you don't know where to start listening to radio, see if you can listen to your local college's radio station. Somehow, colleges tend to have the best stuff.

But if that isn't an option, online radio stations are your next bet. There's a ton of databases where you can search and gain a ton based on your favorite genres. A lot of them are local radio stations!

I curated a bookmarked folder of some databases/stations, so I will list some links of ones I checked out and can confirm have good stuff.

Now you may wonder "why not iheartradio/siriusxm"? I can't tell you to not listen to those, since I tend to default to iheartradio when I am doing chores and I am unsure what to listen to, but their selection tends to be extremely limited compared to the indie stations you can find online. Plus they are huge companies, so it's good to branch out and listen to the smaller stations.

Listen to some stations! You may find some songs you love, or at least have an interesting experience by the end of the day.

Youtube/Xite music

What the hell is xite music, you may ask. Well my friends xite is...vevo's app on roku. Why they renamed their app is anyone's guess. Besides iheart, when I am cleaning, and don't know what to listen to, I default to Xite and have found some good stuff from it. They tend to repeat a lot of the same songs, a ton, but also come out with the occasional surprise.

TV Shows + the shazam app

TV series writers know their BOPS. I found so many songs off of shows it's insane. Even my guilty pleasure America's got Talent got me some bops. Rarest event of all 4 of these those.

Listening Tips

Don't be afraid to admit you no longer like a song/artist/genre

As I get older, I realize I like a lot of songs/genres/artists a lot less than I did when I was younger, and that's ok! For example, I used to be really into vaporwave during 2018 - 2019, but now I can't stand most of it. I wonder why I liked it a lot of the time! There's still some vaporwave songs I still cherish, but most of it is not for me, and that's okay!

2. Don't be afraid of getting outside your comfort zone

Initially, I stuck to only indie/alternative/pop music, but decided to branch out to other genres I knew very little of and found myself surprised by how much I either liked what I found or how much influence those genres had onto other genres. Try to find music from different eras and different genres, you may like what you hear, or at least learn more about the music you do like from the experience.

3. Don't be afraid to take "music breaks"

It's okay to not listen to new music for a little while to relisten to old favorites or listen to things that aren't music such as podcasts, youtube videos, tv series, or nothing at all! Sometimes I have troubles with this mindset myself, but I found taking music breaks makes me more excited to find new music later on rather than feeling like I have to like it's my "job".

4. Spice up listening to albums to make it more fun

When discovering new albums or relisting to old favorites, find ways to spice it up to make it fun and invigorating each time. My favorite things to do are take walks, do chores, or mute a movie or tv series and see how that album syncs to what's on screen. I found it a lot more fun to listen to albums this way than to scroll mindlessly online and listen to them. Plus it helps add more perspective to the activity your doing while your listening, especially if its a movie/TV series. I am not sure how, but it helps me find little details or figure out weak spots in movies.

5. Don't be afraid of being a "songs guy" like me.

I love songs more than full discographies most of the time, and that's ok. If you find discographies tiring like I do, don't feel left out because everyone's doing tier lists and stuff. Instead share your favorite songs with others, talk about them, and maybe if you have enough songs that share an artist, then try to see if their discography is worth it. If you decide you like their hits more than their whole, that's okay! At least you gave it a decent chance, and hey, maybe some of their fans might agree.

So there you have it. Feel free to ask me if you have questions. I will try my best to answer, usually I am not this wordy, but I like songs lol.

#music #music discovery #guide #springy thoughts #yeah #q #long post #life tip

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manicpixxiedreambitch · 4 months

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Qualities that make a guy attractive, a mini list/essay/guide written by a bisexual girl who has had enough.

I am sick and tired of straight dudes doing the bare minimum and then getting confused/upset when no girl wants to date him or stay with him. Like literally talk to any woman and ask her what she looks for in a guy. There are so many easy things a guy can do to make himself more attractive to girls.

So, without further ado, I give you a list of things a “dream guy” does that you can try doing to impress women before complaining about how you have no rizz.

Keep a good appearance. That’s like…almost the bare minimum. You don’t HAVE to be Christian Bale to be attractive. Hell, a lot of the celebrity guys girls find attractive are average looking guys (like David Tennant, Tom Holland, etc) who just take care of themselves. They shave, they wear clothes that look nice on them, they make sure to have a good haircut, they brush their teeth, they shower often and keep good hygiene and use a face wash that isn’t literal dish soap. And being broke is no excuse for this one. There a girls out here keeping good hygiene and looking great using things from Dollar Tree and thrift stores.

Get hobbies that aren’t just video games. I’m not here shitting on guys who play video games at all, but if video games are your ONLY hobby, please for the love of humanity branch out. You don’t even have to be into sports. It’s 2024. Poetic guys, guys who can sew, artsy guys, authors, nature lovers, animal lovers, photographers, history buffs, hell, even guys who simply have a social life and know their way around are attractive. You can’t just sit on your crusty ass all the time and ignore your girlfriend while playing video games. That’s the bare minimum. At least invite her to play with you. If she sucks at video games, help her out and give her encouragement. Include her, damnit!

Consider her feelings and emotions and listens to her. Again, bare minimum. If she explains to you she doesn’t like something or she expresses that something that is going on is giving her negative emotions, FUCKING LISTEN TO HER. Don’t brush it off!!!! Don’t say she’s just “on her period”. It makes her feel like shit when you dont make sure she’s happy.

Respect her boundaries. Literally, you’re not five, no means no, if she tells you she is uncomfortable with something don’t do it.

Do nice things for her. Surprise her, take her out on dates, cuddle with her and try to be thoughtful. Once again, bare minimum. If you see a piece of jewelry you think she’d like and you can afford it, get it. Learn her favorite song and sing it to her. Save up some money on the side and surprise her with a night out. Learn to cook and make a nice meal for the two of you with some romantic ambience like candles and music. This is not expensive either. Candles at dollar tree are cheap. Get a Spotify account and make a romantic playlist, or go get a CD or record and put it on. Dance with her. Get her some flowers (or grow them yourself!). Write her a love letter. Take her for a bike ride. Surprise her with tickets to see that movie that she expressed interest in last week. Annotate a book or a poem just for her, and circle words and letters to make a cute little note for her. Go stargazing. Put together a picnic. Say nice things to her and be romantic. Don’t be scared to be a “simp”. If a girl rejects you for “being a simp” trust me, there is another girl out there that would appreciate it and be just as amazing to you. Love her openly.

Show interest in her interests. Don’t shut her down when she is talking about something she is passionate about. If she is obsessed with a book or a show, offer to watch it with her or ask if you can read it. Ask questions. Research what she is interested in. Take part in her hobbies. Don’t call her childish or obnoxious or obsessive. Have conversations over her interests with her. Now of course, you are not expected to make everything about her. But try to show interest in more than just her beauty.

Make her feel included in your life, and include yourself in hers. Keep a few pictures of her. Send her funny photos that remind you of her. Keep a spare toothbrush for her in your bathroom with a spare towel. Add some of her favorite songs to your playlists. Keep some of her favorite snacks around. Keep one of her claw clips on your desk. Give her a couple of your hoodies. Keep a hair tie on your wrist in case she needs it. Keep some pads/tampons in your bathroom. Give her a stuffed animal or a blanket of yours. Introduce her to your friends and family and make sure she feels included with them. Get along with her friends and family.

Respect women. And no, I don’t mean “respect women to get laid” or “act like you respect women to make them like you” or be one of those “nice guys”. That’s not respecting women. Educate yourself on womens history. Go on YouTube and watch feminist video essays. Learn about how fucked up the patriarchy is. Help your mother around the house. Be nice to your sister. Learn about menstruation and how it works. Ask for consent before doing anything intimate. And don’t get pissy when she says no. To respect consent you have to respect rejection. Check in on her consistently to make sure she is still okay with and enjoying whatever you are doing. Call your friends on it when they are being misogynistic. In fact, respect people in general. Don’t be fucking racist, don’t be fucking homophobic, don’t be fucking transphobic, don’t be fucking ableist. Overall, don’t be a dickhead.

Be present in her life. Call her just to say good morning. Face time to say good night. Text her randomly throughout the day to tell her you love her. If she is in any extracurriculars, go to her events and support her. Cheer for her when she is being amazing. Comfort her when she is sad. Listen to her vent about her shitty day. Compliment her.

Clean up for her. If you know she’s coming over and your room/house is a mess, clean up. Start the laundry, make your bed, put things away, vacuum, tidy up.

Don’t try to control her. Don’t tell her what she can and can’t wear. Don’t tell her what pictures she’s allowed to post. Don’t tell her who to hang out with. Its fucked up.

Don’t be too clingy. Despite everything stated above, everyone needs some alone time. Give her space when she needs it.

Try to be financially stable. You don’t have to be a billionaire. But learn to balance your funds and create budgets.

Check yourself. If you can afford it, try therapy or counseling. Make sure you are okay. Try to recognize any toxic behaviors you might have and see what you can do to change them. Same goes for her. If she is being toxic, talk to her about it. If she is going through something, talk about it. Communicate.

Say nice and romantic things to her. And not just over text. Be brave. Say it to her face.

Don’t lie to her. Unless it is for a surprise, tell her the truth. If you want to go hang out with a friend, tell her you and your friend are hanging out. Don’t make up a lie. Just be honest.

Just by doing these things alone not only can you improve your chances of getting a girlfriend and keeping a good relationship, but also you can significantly improve your own life.

#straight boys #listen up #no bitches?#no rizz?

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lovely-menza · 1 year

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It's me (again) tag!

Tagged by @blackccelebration to do this thingy, thank you so much!! I sort of remember of doing a tag like this long ago but now we can update it yay!1!!!! 💜💜

1 - Are you named after anyone?

Not really, after a song yes, the other one is just because mum liked the name and I like to think it's because a medieval weapon but that's just me ksjdksjs

2 - When was the last time you cried?

Uhm I cry all the time, but last time it was last tuesday at the bus stop 💀💀💀

3 - Do you have kids?

Nope fortunately, but I do have a dog who is just like a kid! (just turned 1 this month) and the other one is just like an old man (turned 15 this month) but I love them

4 - Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not all the time, I come as pretty sincere even when it's the perfect moment to let out my wittiness, but that's when I pay a lot of attention, I suck at being witty sometimes :')

5 - What's the first thing you notice about people?

I remember writing something like 'their face expression when I'm talking to them' which still stands today xD no but seriously, I'm still insecure and sometimes worry about how do people perceive me, but I think it also has to do to the fact that I like face expressions and structures a lot lol

6 - What's your eye colour?

Brown, even if the sunlight flashes in it goes from dark brown to light brown and no other variation, some of us are boring asf okay?

7 - Scary movies or happy endings?

Idk what is this supposed to mean but I like scary movies with any endings!!!

8 - Any special talents?

Obsessing over dead pe- Okay actually I think drawing portraits or faces (once again me looking at people's faces) and uhm... instruments count? I just play bass as you've seen jmhskdhsksj but then again I'll keep with art and maybe my good interaction with any pet

9 - Where were you born?

Argentina WORLD CHAMPION PAPÁ ⭐⭐⭐

(in Buenos Aires btw)

10 - What are your hobbies?

Playing bass lmao, also drawing since I went on and off by MANY YEARS ALREADY it's frustrating but I'll work on that!! and uh, collecting vinyl records? I don't go out and hunt that much but when I do I don't buy literally anything, I have a little collection of things I adore rather than just keeping lots of records I won't listen to that much

Btw my last finding was Reggatta De Blanc 1986 press record kajskahskajd

11 - Have you any pets?

As I already mentioned two dogs with their respective ages! the baby one is called Bonita (or Bonnie/Lola for the friends) who I adopted 6 months after my doggie Lila passed away :( and the oldie but goldie is Ciro, who's still alive after the fucking mess he was all his life, I adopted him as a weeks-old puppy but he's stray at heart lol

12 - What sports do you play/have played?

I only played volleyball and softball at school, I didn't like softball a lot but volleyball is always fun

pity I dropped out because I couldn't play with my mates - as an outcast myself they'd always play with their friends except me :]

13 - How tall are you?

I'm around 1,65 or 1,68 idk I wish I was a tiny bit taller sometimes hhhh

14 - Favourite subject in school?

Either was the music-related subjects I had in highschool (I don't even remember the names now but it were two branches of it) or history, philosophy... can't think of any other

15 - Dream job?

Living off from art I think, any lol

Now I have to tag 15 blogs? damn okay here you go: @the-rippers, @lil-melody, @outlandos-d-amour, @l0st-d0gs, @crampdown, @thespiritofvexation, @dy3rs3v3 , @viktoria-sob, @larsgoingtomars, @musicrunsthroughmysoul, @themagicalmysticalboy, @jeffament, @princessleiaqueen, @overthinkinks & @itbe1964 Of course you know this is optional so you can ignore and go on with yer life :D

#maiden's tags #what a fucking mess and it's just january you all

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twistnet · 2 years

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twistnet’s five year anniversary

going to pin this for a while, so if you’re looking for the navigation ⇢ go here

“ellie, i think somethings wrong with shimmer...”

this is a small requesting event to celebrate my fifth year being on this hellsite. a big thank you to anyone who’s managed to stick around with me this long, or had recently just joined me on this wild adventure. please enjoy to your hearts content!

⋯

SEND ME A ARTIFACT FROM THE LIST UNDER THE CUT and i’ll write you an imagine with a character of your choice! each artifact has a small prompt to go along with it, and if you played either of the tlou games, you may recognize some of the listed artifacts

RULES — please read through; rules not followed = request being denied

example ask — [ can i please request riley’s pendant with matt casey and a female reader? ]

general blog rules apply; please read before requesting ⇢ rules

specify gn!reader or female!reader; default is gender neutral

please state character’s full name when requesting

a character can only be requested twice! for example -- matt casey can only take up two separate prompts; no more than that!

prompts are first come, first serve ⇢ there are 30 slots [ listed under cut ]

please read the bonus listed on some of the prompts; you have the option to add those in

as a prompt is taken, it will be crossed out ⇢ i will answer asks as they come in to verify placement

FANDOMS — arcane, csi miami, dazed and confused, marvel, mayans, narcos, one chicago, prodigal son, resident evil, riverdale, soa, star wars, stranger things, swat, tlou & 911 ⇢ any of the characters on my fandom + character list

EVENT OFFICIALLY CLOSED

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ONE. riley’s pendant [ ellie williams ] ⇢ your lover can’t help but look at the ring on your finger; “i can’t believe you’re really mine”

TWO. joel’s watch [ antonio dawson ] ⇢ your lover gives you something to remember them by

THREE. sam’s robot [ tig trager ] ⇢ your lover comes across an old childhood toy of yours while unpacking a box in your first house together

FOUR. walkman [ jim hopper ] ⇢ listening to your favorite music with your lover -- bonus; you provide your favorite for them to listen to

FIVE. switchblade [ chris alonso ] ⇢ your lover finds a knife in your bag / pants pocket; chaos ensues

SIX. joel and sara photo [ ethan choi ] ⇢ you and your lover take pictures in a photobooth to mark the end of an amazing first date

SEVEN. no pun intended [ adam ruzek ] ⇢ you tell your lover a joke, which results in them laughing so hard they begin crying

EIGHT. lab recorder [ steve harrington ] ⇢ your lover listens to a voicemail you left them on their phone -- bonus; you can pick angst or fluff

NINE. tess’ list [ nathan drake ] ⇢ you send your lover to the store with a list of things to get, they end up bringing home more than you had asked for -- bonus; they got a few things because they knew you’d like it

TEN. wanted poster [ jay halstead ] ⇢ your lover accidentally stumbles across your arrest record -- bonus; they are surprised because you are the sweetest person they know

ELEVEN. savage starlight comic [ eddie munson ] ⇢ you show your lover your favorite book / comic and somehow manage to get them hooked on it -- bonus; they totally started reading it because they wanted something to talk to you about

TWELEVE. engraved ring [ dmitri antonov ] ⇢ your lover proposes to you in the heat of the moment; this wasn’t how they planned it going at all

THIRTEEN. map of seattle [ matt casey ] ⇢ you and your lover go on vacation, and your lover insists the two of you aren’t lost

FOURTEEN. street drawing [ steve harrington ] ⇢ you find your lover’s drawings / paintings of you

FIFTEEN. raul’s olive branch [ hondo harrelson ] ⇢ you or your lover apologize after a fight

SIXTEEN. programme for cassandra [ victor tan ] ⇢ you and your lover go to see a late night movie

SEVENTEEN. tara’s invitation [ evan buckley ] ⇢ you go to stay at your lover’s place after learning you are unable to stay at your own -- bonus; you get to pick why

EIGHTEEN. join wlf note [ hunter ] ⇢ you or your lover are apart of an underground resistance, and it’s one of your jobs to recruit the other -- bonus; can be au or canon depending on the character chosen

NINETEEN. pharmacy note [ jim street ] ⇢ you or your lover come down with a sickness, and one of you runs to the store to get them anything they could possibly need

TWENTY. bookstore note [ brian zvonecek ] ⇢ you or your lover reassures the other of their love after a bout of self-consciousness

TWENTY-ONE. arcade flyer [ peter parker ] ⇢ you and your lover go to the arcade -- bonus; you pick who beats the other’s high score

TWENTY-TWO. strange artifact [ malcolm bright ] ⇢ your lover gifts you something odd they found at a secondhand store simply because “it reminded me of you” -- bonus; you get to pick the item

TWENTY-THREE. hospital supply list [ erin lindsay ] ⇢ you or your lover end up in the hospital after doing something idiotic -- bonus; you get to pick what happened

TWENTY-FOUR. zoo holiday brochure [ kelly severide ] ⇢ you and your lover go to the zoo -- bonus; your kid(s) convinced you to go

TWENTY-FIVE. prayer for victory [ carlos oliveira ] ⇢ you or your lover suffer an injury, and no one knows if you are going to make it out alive

TWENTY-SIX. failed truce [ jay halstead ] ⇢ you or your love fall out of love with the other -- bonus; the person you now love is something the both of you know

TWENTY-SEVEN. survivor plea [ jay halstead x kim burgess ] ⇢ you or your lover is in danger, and the other would do anything to make sure they are safe again. even at the risk of their own life

TWENTY-EIGHT. young seraphite’s journal [ connor rhodes ] ⇢ your lover finds an old journal of yours full of love confessions and odd secrets you held onto from before the two of you began dating

TWENTY-NINE. rattler’s note [ rafe adler ] ⇢ you find out your lover did something horrible -- bonus; you get to pick what they did and whether you forgive them

THIRTY. runaway warning [ sam drake ] ⇢ you or your lvoer go missing, and it’s up to the other to find them and bring them home -- bonus; you pick angst or fluff for ending

happy requesting! tagging some mutuals!

@libraryofloveletters // @blathannabeaga // @nightlywords7 // @mirabee // @purplerain85 // @cherieann-2001 // @shebemyne // @leopardprinthearts // @ggrayyxx // @wanderlust-and-poetry // @burgstead // @halsteadswhore22

#twistnet celebrations #twistnet's 5th anniversary

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onlyswan · 2 years

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art, i’m so excited for tomorrow the 18th.

a fun fact about me is that i’m a huge coldplay fan. their music truly saved me and helped through tough times in my life. seeing bts and coldplay working together was just as seeing your two worlds collide😭 i swear when i saw jin’s single and him attending to the concert my heart dropped bc i am literally going to see the concert broadcasting live from the movie theater!!😭😭😭 if i have the chance to record jin’s performance i will record and share it with you💗💗💗💗

much love, art. i hope you’re doing well. sending you all the hugs and cuddles from here💗💗💗

a picture of namjoonie and jimin through the screen when coldplay performed “my universe” at their concert i attended earlier this year💜

omggggg 🥹 in the darkest points of my life from when i didn’t even know bts yet i would always listen to coldplay’s music too. i’ve never tried getting to know them more but after seeing them work with the tannies in my universe, and even more with the astronaut, they are truly kind people and i can see how it reflects on the music <3

i hope you are doing well too ^^ have fuuuun at the movie theater i’m jealous the nearest branch of the local participating theaters is two hours away >:( counting on y’all for the hd vids hehehe

OMG MINIMONI <333 SO PRETTY :(

#<love3

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motownfiction · 1 year

Text

trap

Charlie is too old to be the tagalong kid brother. He’ll be fourteen in July, and he can’t expect to hang around Sadie, Sam, and their friends all the time and call that friendship. Sam assures him that he’s not a tagalong kid brother, that they all like him, that they all want him around, but he doesn’t believe them. He’s not sure he really wants himself around.

The trouble is that Charlie doesn’t really like the kids in his own class. Compared to him, they just seem so … immature. There’s Carrie, sure, and she’s great. But there’s nobody else. Nobody else listens to Louis Armstrong or even Stevie Wonder, and they’re in Detroit. They’re all about the songs you hear at the mall. A Flock of Seagulls and The Human League and all that. If they’re only into things from the past couple of years, they could at least get into The Psychedelic Furs or something. But they don’t. They don’t, and try as he might, Charlie can’t make it happen. So he spends most of his time alone, surrounded by his records, until the twins knock on his door and tell him to come out. That’s the only way he’ll come out anymore. He doesn’t want to piss them off … doesn’t want them to resent him.

Somewhere, in the way, way back of his mind, Charlie knows that he’s working overtime to convince himself that they do resent him, that they should.

But when he’s scared and worried, it just doesn’t seem to matter.

Sam knocked on his door in the late afternoon to ask if he wanted to come see Return of the Jedi with him, Will, and Daniel. They went once last week already (with Charlie), but Sam insists they need to go again this week, too. Apparently, Will and Lucy slept together for the first time after the Memorial Day barbecue, and this is their way of celebrating. Charlie, who knows he’s pretty nerdy himself, thinks this is a whole other level of lame. He’s not even that into Star Wars. Not like Sam and his friends, anyway. They used to paint tree branches like lightsabers and swing them around the backyard like they were really fighting in space. But Charlie comes along, anyway. He ignores the voice of that fishy alien from the movie (“It’s a trap!”) in his head and comes along, anyway.

He tries to have fun. He tries to laugh at the gags he’s seen and heard once before, and he tries to enjoy his cold Coca-Cola. Daniel shares his popcorn with Charlie, too, all without being asked. It should be a good time. But as Charlie looks around at his brother and his friends, he can’t stop thinking about it.

They’re his friends.

Sam’s friends.

Never Charlie’s friends. Just people Charlie knows. People who will probably wave to him in the hallway when he starts high school in the fall, but not people who will go out of their way to sit with him in the cafeteria. After all, why would they? He’s still a kid, and they have driver’s licenses, beards, and girls.

Charlie’s just nobody. He’s nobody wherever he goes.

And as the lights go up in the multiplex, Charlie decides he won’t be just nobody anymore. He doesn’t know how. Just that he’s going to do it.

He’s going to do it, and he’s going to do it right.

(part of @nosebleedclub january challenge -- day xxvii!)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: charlie doyle #year: 1983 #it's like. this one. this one is obvious lol

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myswipefile · 2 years

Text

Saturday, 07/02/2022 part two

Journaling is supposed to help my recoveries, so here we go.

I learned about this today:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethyl_Corporation

I also changed my wallpaper and lockscreen tonight.

Let's read my favorite book.

"It's one of my theories that when people give you advice, they're really just talking to themselves in the past." — Austin Kleon

This blog is me giving advice to myself in the future.

"Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But, since no one was listening, everything must be said again." — André Gide (жид)

"You don't get to pick your family, but you can pick the music you listen to and you can pick the books you read and you can pick the movies you see. You are, in fact, a mashup of what you choose to let into your life." — Austin Kleon

"We are shaped and fashioned by what we love." — Goethe

"Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your. imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work will be authentic." — Jim Jarmusch

"Chew on one thinker--writer, artist, activist, role model-you really love. Study everything there is to know about that thinker. Then find three people that thinker loved, and find out everything about them. Repeat this as many times as you can. Climb up the tree as far as you can go. Once you build your tree, it's time to start your own branch." — Austin Kleon

"Whether you're in school or not, it's always your job to get yourself an education." — Austin Kleon

"It's not the book you start with, it's the book that book leads you to... Collect books, even if you don't plan on reading them right away. Nothing is more important than an unread library." — Austin Kleon

"Carry a notebook and a pen with you wherever you go. Get used to pulling it out and jotting down your thoughts and observations. Copy your favorite passages out of books. Record overheard conversations. Doodle when you're on the phone." — Austin Kleon

I've wanted to do this for years and never knew how to start. How does one bring a notebook wherever they go? How does one find the time in the moment to stop and record? Sure, it can be messy and it doesn't have to be in-depth, but most of my inspiration and things I long to record occur while I'm at work. Who stops on the job to write things down? How does one gain that freedom?

"Keep a swipe file. It's just what it sounds like—a file to keep track of the stuff you've swiped from others... See something worth stealing? Put it in the swipe file. Need a little inspiration? Open up the swipe file. Newspaper reporters call this a "morgue file"- I like that name even better. Your morgue file is where you keep the dead things that you'll later reanimate in your work." — Austin Kleon

"Do you ever have moments of imposter syndrome?" "I almost asked what you think of 'fake it 'til you make it,' but I thought this was more intriguing."

"In the beginning, we learn by pretending to be our heroes. We learn by copying... Who to copy is easy. You copy your heroes—the people you love, the people you're inspired by, the people you want to be... What to copy is a little bit trickier. Don't just steal the style, steal the thinking behind the style. You don't want to look like your heroes, you want to see like your heroes." — Austin Kleon

I've unintentionally adopted this habit in my life.

"Bradford Cox, a member of the band Deerhunter, says that... he had to wait until the official release day to hear his favorite band's new album. He had a game he would play: He would sit down and record a "fake" version of what he wanted the new album to sound like. Then, when the album came out, he would compare the songs he'd written with the songs on the real album." — Austin Kleon

"Just watch someone at their computer. They're so still, so immobile... We need to move, to feel like we're making something with our bodies, not just our heads... You need to find a way to bring your body into your work... if we strum a guitar, or shuffle sticky notes around a conference table, or start kneading clay, the motion kickstarts our brain into thinking." — Austin Kleon

"I have stared long enough at the glowing flat rectangles of computer screens. Let us give more time for doing things in the real world... plant a plant, walk the dogs, read a real book, go to the opera." — Edward Tufte

"When I was making the poems, it didn't feel like work. It felt like play." — Austin Kleon

Never work a day in your life. Find something that fulfills you. Insert your meraki into it. Indulge your passions and show the world what you're made of, and show them what makes you.

"Stand up while you're working. Pin things on the walls and look for patterns. Spread things around your space and sort through them." — Austin Kleon

"The work you do while you procrastinate is probably the work you should be doing for the rest of your life." — Jessica Hische

"'When I get busy, I get stupid.' Ain't that the truth. Creative people need time to just sit around and do nothing... Take a really long walk. Stare at a spot on the wall for as long as you can... Take time to mess around. Get lost. Wander. You never know where it's going to lead you." — Austin Kleon

"When you love different things, you spend time with them." — ? Tomlinson

"The thing is, you can cut off a couple passions and only focus on one, but after a while, you'll start to feel phantom limb pain. I spent my teenage years obsessed with songwriting and playing in bands, but then I decided I needed to focus on just writing, so I spent half a decade hardly playing any music at all... I started playing in a band again. Now, I'm starting to feel whole." — Austin Kleon

"You're very good at recalling lyrics, stories, anecdotes, and quotes, and I, for one, really enjoy hearing them."

I'm at 83% sleep now. Goodnight

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

Text

Stormbreaker Thor Axe Metal | Etsy

This isn't a bad replica it shows that it's pretty heavy and people who will try and pick it up will find a new Chevy I think it said 4.5 kg I'm not sure what the conversion is and it's long it's 37 in which is about right it's supposed to be about 42 or 44 in total they could take the ENT look and mailed wire bands around it and put a attachment plug on the inside the thickness of the handle quite easily it's kind of how they did it in the old days but not even metal bands someone with skill could actually wrap it like they did in the old days you could come up with the smaller branches and molten hot and form them right to the handle and then and then up and over right to the handle again and then wrap them and having a plug-in already it goes through it and it would look a lot like it cuz you could wrap it with what look like branches but it's not a bad replica and it'll show you what it does it's really for forging stuff and it's battle ax I mean forcing things like small missiles and tips of actual rockets go through old fashioned armor back in the day and you'd form it and you'd use the ax that cut the excess off the mold that's one major use and Thor Freya say yes and you can see me hurl this particular object at two morlock and valley center and it had two of them in the head and they killed them instantly and PGA and his sister ran they look the same it's threatening me and threatening my life in the library and Max knew the object was there and wanted to see what I could do with it and I didn't see them either I looked for him there's some cameras I found a couple he knows it cuz I was staring right at the cameras I guess it's homicide but I was defending myself cuz they're going to get in the car and try and run me over Sunday I go to court with you Clark and you'll lose you'll go to jail for attempted homicide and attempted kidnapping

Zues Hera

I understand something else that's what we were doing and we were yelling it and saying it and it would be on tape and we were getting into a car to try and run them over so he's treating us out on it through it and hit us and he ran at us says it couldn't see what happened and he left this guy is dangerous and the max are having to do it and he can't tell if he can do it or not without them around let's see bullets bounce off of him that maxfire, the realistically we want them for inventions and we messed up our whole presidential career was a farce the last one we did nothing

Bha

You were hit too no I always see what you're saying and trying to kidnap him and he stopped you and stomps the ground and we listen no but this is how it is find someone to see a rock in his hand he's doomed and he says if I have a rock in my hand for a reason near you I'm going to kill you and I'm not doomed trying to read my Lord you have a record and you're stalking me and they have record of you doing it you're the first person to die without even a trial happening but but it's known CAA ads I guess it's true and I'm stupid when you keep doing it and I'll probably get iced every day like I am

Trump

Every single day you turns like this you give up or he was right then you try and grab him we can get rid of you and in a few days all of you are gone cuz that's all it's going to take to get those places up there everyone sees what they have to do

Thor Freya

Olympus

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Lost in Your Current (P.2)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,044 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always For this chapter specifically: FORCED. MATING.

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“He’s probably gotten cabin fever and the opportunity for bonding drove him to this,” Carol said, trying to be diplomatic.

“It is alpha arrogance is I what it is! I thought they – Steve and Tony and every other man I worked with that have been afflicted – were insufferable before. This just makes it all that much worse! Thinking they know what’s best and the fucking obnoxious over confidence!” Natasha spat.

Her and everyone else had woken up hours after Tony had left with Y/N. She had immediately gone to the security recordings and saw Tony entering Y/N’s room, cornering her, and knocking her out. As she fell, he activated his suit, holding her up until he could pick her up when the suit was done building around him. He used the suit to blow a hole through the wall with one of his repulsors and left the building that way, cradling Y/N. ‘He couldn’t have used a goddamn door like a normal person?’ Natasha had spat when she saw that.

She turned away from the security recordings and took a deep breath.

“Maybe it’ll be fine. Y/N was on her way to weaning off,” Carol pointed out. “Not the most chivalrous ways to go about collecting her but when she wakes up, she may be comforted by Tony’s presence. That’s the way with Omegas isn’t it? Just having him nearby will calm her.”

Natasha shook her head and pierced Carol with a stony look. Carol closed her mouth, seeing that.

Natasha started firmly, “He should have listened to me! What is more likely to happen is that he’s going to fall into a rut and then he’s going to lose control. Which means he is going to hurt her if she struggles which she is likely to do considering she is not in heat! Or off her suppressants completely in the first place, so even if she’s drawn in by him, it’s not going to be the same as if she was presented to him clear and clean. It’s not going to be good!”

“It worked out with Steve’s omega.”

“Steve locked her away – just like Tony is going to do – and I’m sure the coupling was not gentle. I saw the ghosts of bruises on her cheek and shoulder!”

“Oh…”

Carol had not gone with Natasha to check up on them and Natasha had refrained from divulging those details before.

“Should we go up to his place?” Carol asked quietly. “Get her back?”

Natasha sighed, leaning against the desk, her eyes fixated on the replay of Tony taking Y/N, seriously considering it.

Finally, she admitted, “No. That’ll just make it worse.” She slammed her hand on the desk and stood up straight. “That stupid son of a bitch! The only good thing is that we know she’s going to be safe up there in general with him because he won’t let harm come to her.”

<><><>

You woke in a luxurious bed, stretching out. Your face rubbed against the silk pillowcases, and you sighed in contentment. You sat up immediately realizing you were in a room you did not recognize. Eyes darting, you took in the wall of windows, spotting the tall trees outside and evening fog. And the large flat screen television mounted on the wall across from the bed. It was a room of wood, you realizing you were in a cabin.

The room seemed familiar though.

More accurately…. The scent was familiar. It was all over the bed.

You looked down, pulling the covers completely back, finding yourself in a t shirt and boxers. That was not what you had been wearing. You had been wearing a hospital gown…

The hospital.

It came back to you.

Not a hospital, a facility. Government secret. Natasha Romanoff, along with SHIELD, had had you under surveillance as you came off your suppressants. And then… Tony.

Your eyes looked around the room again, nervous energy thrumming beneath your skin. Where was Tony? And more importantly, where were you?

Slowly pushing the blankets back, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and your feet hit the sheepskin rug running along the side of the bed. You nestled your toes into the softness as you pushed yourself up.

A thought came to you suddenly and your hand slapped up to your neck. No. It had not been penetrated, your mating spot. You thought again of how you were in different clothes and what strength that must have taken him to dress you without taking you. Yet, you could scent him on your skin. He had not resisted touching you.

You stepped off the rug and the hardwood creaked. You grimaced but what did you expect? You took more steps towards the windows, looking down out over the yard. Dusk would fall soon. There was a vast lake, partially hidden by large trees further out. Some deer were grazing in the yard. There was no one in sight and that set you further on edge. You did not want to be alone.

Pulling away from the window, you turned to go towards the bedroom door.

Halfway down the staircase, you saw Tony sitting at the table. And he was already looking up at you, eyes piercing. You stopped on a dime, straightening up, hand gripping the iron railing. He was waiting and you took the bait.

“Where are we?”

“Our cabin.”

“‘Our’ cabin?”

Tony did not miss the resistance in your voice. He closed the hologram he was working on, fully focusing on you. “Yes. Ours… now.”

You scanned the rest of the ground floor, what you could see of it. It truly was just the two of you. You descended the rest of the stairs, keeping a wary eye out. Tony could sense your unease.

He gestured at the seat beside him. “Here. I’ll get you something to eat. Sit.”

You slowly sunk into the chair watching him as he got up and went towards the fridge. He was tense, you could see that in his shoulders. Both of you were on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the tenseness in him… that was setting the hair on your arms on end. He was worked up… too worked up.

Still, you sat still, not wanting to antagonize him any further.

He brought back a plate with hardboiled eggs and fruit, placing it in front of you. He must have peeled the eggs beforehand in anticipation of feeding you.

“Thank you,” you said gently, pulling the plate towards you.

Tony’s hand reached out, brushing yours, tracing up. And you froze. He merely inhaled deeply as his hand fell away. He had scented you again.

Oh. He was most certainly worked up about you. You knew your cycle was due, the worst time for you to be coming off of your suppressants. And he had put you in his bed, scented your skin with his sheets and his own hands to mark you as his. A warning if there happened to be any Alphas around, which you doubted. But he was possessive. You were destined to be his after all.

“Toast?” he asked.

You gave a curt nod. He set to make that for you, and you kept your eyes on his back as you bit into the egg.

<><><>

He fell asleep later in the evening and you pulled yourself off the couch. He had insisted you sat close as the two of you watched a movie. He was trying to court you, something unnatural for him you assumed having known his reputation throughout the years. He was a celebrity, how could you not know?

He did not stir, and your eyes went to the door.

<><><>

Moments after the screen door closed, FRIDAY piped up on Tony’s watch, startling him awake.

“Sir, your guest utilized the front door.”

Tony turned towards the door, shaking his grogginess. Y/N was indeed not in the cabin, and he got up from the couch quickly, moving towards the door. Rage was quickly overtaking as he thought of her trying to leave him.

<><><>

You were bolting towards the dock and came to a stop at the end of it. It was vast. And you could not spot any other houses along the lake from here. You had no hope of escaping this remote place without his help. He held the keys to the boat in the boat house and to his car.

You were truly stuck here.

“Y/N!” you heard his voice bellow across the yard.

Whipping around, you saw him quickly closing the distance.

Your heart started to hammer, realizing what you had probably done to him. You had come out to check your surroundings without him watching over your shoulder. But by sneaking off, you had certainly flamed his Alpha, causing him to fly into a rut at your absence. Even further than it had been before. You had been warned about this in the underground; it was dangerous to do this, especially to your Alpha you had been destined with.

Without much thought, you dove off the dock and swam to try to hide yourself in the brush along the lake. Hoping pathetically that the scent of the water would do some to hide you from him until you could find a clear path back inside and lock the door until he calmed down.

Your lungs were bursting but you did not surface again until you were beneath the branches overreaching the lake to the right of the dock. You did your best to keep quiet. You heard him calling your name angrily, his pacing on the dock. He could not tell which direction you had swam to, the right or to the left to the boat house.

Through the branches, you clung to one, watching him as you floated.

He looked furious, territorial. His eyes were searching for the lake and in the succumbing darkness, you knew it was harder for him to see if you had surfaced anywhere.

Stupid.

You should have waited longer to go wandering.

But if you had waited longer, you may have also been mated. You had been stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Tony started storming back up the dock towards land and went to the left towards the boat house. When he disappeared inside, you crawled out of the lake, your bare feet sinking into the mud as you made your way back through the shrubbery and back into the yard.

You gasped when you set off a motion sensor light and your head whipped towards where the boathouse was. It was only a split second before he emerged again, eyes directly at you.

“Y/N!” he called out threateningly as he took off towards you, his tone woven with his Alpha tone.

It was powerful. You felt your knees go weak upon hearing it. He must have studied up, practiced. Tony Stark was not a stupid man by any means, and he had no doubt been given intel about how the Alpha and Omega connections worked. Or maybe he was just a natural.

Regardless, you fought against your jelly legs as he was gaining on you. He was getting close and you swore at yourself loudly in your head, tearing away from the spot as you gained control again. He let out a roar of frustration as you sprinted away from him.

You tried to run back inside. You flew up the stairs, breath short. You felt his hand at your back, grabbing hold of the fabric. You stumbled as he yanked, and it slowed your movement. With a rough tug, you lurched forward though, and your hand was on the screen door, throwing it open. You did not care to try to close it as you came into the cabin, hand landing on the edge of the door. You went to slam it closed.

Tony was too quick though, barreling straight into it, coming in through the still wide-open screen door.

You were sent spiraling onto your backside with his force. Tony was on you in the blink of an eye, pawing. His knees were on the outsides of your thighs, holding you down to the ground.

“Y/N! Stop it!” he demanded, his hands gripping your wrists painfully to stop your thrashing.

Panting, you stared up at him, stilling your movement. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, eyes blown wide from lust. At the sight of you still, a possible sign of acceptance, he ground his hips slightly as he tested your temperament out. He was so close. And he smelled so good and was holding you so tightly. It was what he was supposed to do and what you were supposed to do was obey him. He wanted to mate.

Supposed to.

You took the opportunity that he was distracted to yank a hand towards you, and you bit his hand roughly.

He shouted angrily, letting go, pulling back. It gave you the momentum to toss him off of you and you scrambled away from him. You almost lost your footing on the hardwood, but you regained it quickly. Another Alpha roar tore from his throat, sending a wave of dismay through you that your Alpha was upset and upset with you specifically. You were panicking as you heard him following you. Circling the stairs, you went to go up them. You could lock yourself in the bedroom. The door was heavy and that could hold him until he calmed down enough.

Tony’s hand closed in on your calf as you took to the stairs, and he yanked you back. You collided with the stairs painfully on your stomach and elbows, the air forced from your lungs on the impact, and he was holding you there suspended on the bottom of the stairs.

“Making me hurt you,” he snarled as he struggled with you. “Why can’t you just be good like you’re supposed to?”

“Alpha!” you begged pathetically.

That only drove him more insane. Tony groaned, tearing your boxers down your thighs, and yanking them off from around your feet.

You tried to scramble away again, a hand slapping on the next stair up, but he barked, “Omega!”

That caused you to freeze, your hormones overwhelming you. It was so hard; your soon-to-be mated brain was clashing with you. You were in pain, fighting him. Not just physically but mentally. Your body wanted to give in so badly; you were already wet. But your sensible side was pleading with you to fight back.

Tony’s fingers were in your pussy and your sensible side was quickly becoming overshadowed. Alpha was holding you tightly, working you up, prepping you like he should. Just so he could take care of you. You were safe in his embrace. You felt his hard cock pressing at your thighs.

No no no no. You were pulling away again. Or tried to.

Tony hiked your hips up and he drove himself home. You squirmed, trying to get away from his grip, to pull away so his cock was not in you. Tony responded angrily. He fought you, pinning you tighter against the stairs with his weight.

“You want this Omega, you need this,” he breathed shakily, his cock pulling slowly in and out. You were becoming more wet, giving him lubrication. It felt like you were adjusting specifically for him, his cock fitting perfectly inside you, no matter how deep he went. Your body was betraying you, responding to him and not yourself. And he was taking advantage of it to the fullest. He groaned as he buried himself again to the hilt this time. “So tight, Omega. You’re mine. All mine. Always going to be mine.”

The sound of your slick and his pelvis bouncing off of your ass filled the space.

Yes. Yes. You arched your back and it allowed him to drive deeper, drawing a groan of approval from him. You melted underneath the sound of it.

His. You were Alpha’s. You were sinking beneath the fog that had threatened to overtake you. You were desperate to please him. Your fingers spread out on the stairs as you relaxed ever so slightly, letting him drive easier up into you even further.

Alpha was happy with that.

“What did I say? See? You want it. So badly. Mine. Mine,” Alpha was giving broken husks of praise as he drove himself into you. “Perfect for me.”

It felt so good, you were drowning in his scent.

You pressed back onto him for more, but he took that as a threat and he let out a low, rumbling growl. You stopped the pressure, whimpering in submission.

Alpha was not having it though, his hand holding tighter. You felt the tightness in your core and you were quickly becoming breathless as you felt the oncoming wave.

<><><>

Tony’s hold on her neck was going to bruise, he sensed that even above his Alpha rut. But he simply did not care. She had fought back, tried to run, disobeyed him above everything else. She was never going to do that again. He was going to make sure of that.

His teeth dug into her mark, and she cried out. She tasted as sweet as she smelled to him. His cock brushed her sweet spot and she whined. It was a siren song and he fell under the wave of it.

She went lax, whimpering. He practically purred at the physical submission.

Finally.

“So good, Omega. Taking me so well,” Tony praised against her neck, much to her pleasure. She loved praise, that much he had discerned. He kissed roughly as he worked her up. Her breath was becoming short, and he knew she was close. He was so eager to fill her up.

He moved quicker feeling her so close now that he had bit. And she fell quickly, quivering around him, crying out in release. The tightness was too much. His cock was thickening, and he moaned.

“Gonna breed you, Omega. You’re going to be so beautiful, round with my child,” Tony husked against her neck. She whined needily and he let go, fully seated inside her, coating her walls. His groan was loud and long.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #alpha tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

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omnitf · 3 years

Photo

Credit for this image goes to @dissolving-time. Story is mature for some language. This is another story from the Coach Stone universe. I hope you all enjoy it. :D If you’d like to see more of these stories, please join my Patreon.

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

Stone Cold

“Coach said you have to get your shot, bro.”

I gazed at the meathead that had once been my fellow prisoner. He’d already donned the dog tags that were locked in his footlocker. Muscle rippled over his body as he gazed at me holding one of the biggest rifles I have ever seen in my life.

“Chapman, do you know what that is?” I asked as I eyed the gun warily. The caliber alone would be enough to splatter my brains all over the wall.

“The name’s Champ, bro.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-factly. Had they really brainwashed him so thoroughly?

“Your name is Lance Chapman, from Enfield, North Carolina. You specialize in computer programming, like me. We were brought here against our wills, remember?”

“Nah, bro.” “Champ” let out a deep vapid chuckle. His camouflage draped over his legs, but I could see the hints of growing muscle bunching, just waiting for a good pump to press them tightly against the confines of the cloth. “Coach wants my bod first, my brains second. Huhuh.” He grinned at me, revealing perfectly white and straightened teeth.

I’d hoped to reason with him, but it was clear he was beyond that. I brandished my own pair of dog tags. Like I said, computers were my thing, both programming and the hardware. It took me a while, but I managed to get my lockbox to open, too. And without reducing myself to a wannabe army poster boy. “I have my tags, Champ. You can’t keep me here. You know once I get my tags, I’m supposed to leave. I’m supposed to report to Coach, remember?”

“But you’re not gonna, are you, bro?” he asked seriously as his brow furrowed. “You just wanna get out.”

“I have to get out to see Coach, now don’t I?” The exit was right there in bold black lettering. The lock had already disengaged on cue when I seized my tags. I just needed to get past him. If I could distract him somehow or incapacitate him, I could run.

Chapman spread his legs in a broader stance as he planted himself firmly in front of the door. “You’re not ready to see Coach yet, little bro. And Coach hasn’t called you.”

“I am ready.”

“Prove it.”

I knew a few basics from martial arts training in my youth. I’d been fortunate enough to keep up the practice in my free hours. The meathead in front of me may have had a weapon, but we were in tight quarters. It would be difficult to get that barrel pointing at me if I could stay close. And while he may have had raw strength, I had experience. I also still had my wits about me. I sighed and let my shoulders droop as I approached him. “Look, Champ, just ... let me go, okay? You and I both know this is wrong. It’s against the law to kidnap someone.”

“No can do, little bro. Coach says we need more training. Coach says we have a project to help with. Coach says muscle CHAMPs like me need to train and obey. I listen to Coach. I obey. This Champ o—”

The mantra was what I was waiting for. It doesn’t matter how big you get if you haven’t got the trained reflexes to deal with a sudden change yet. And Chapman’s mind had been either short circuited or rewired to reinforce his thuggery. I’d heard it enough times through the door. It wasn’t soundproofed. I think that was deliberate on the part of this “Coach” to give us a taste of what’s in store. Demoralizing a captive is a large part of ensuring that he or she remains compliant, after all. And I’d heard enough, “This meathead obeys,” to know this was a fulltime operation made heavy on the brainwashing. It had to be to change someone so drastically. This wasn’t just a sign of subtle change. This was downright breaking them and building them back up again into the equivalent of obedient machines.

In this case, it played in my favor, and I hate to think of it this way, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was grateful for it. The mantra made him vulnerable. I laid a hand gently on his shoulder, being sure to get close enough that he couldn’t put the barrel against me. His eyes were glassy and unseeing as he uttered the mantra that he and everyone else like him had been conditioned to speak.

Then I took him down. It was simple to sweep his feet out from under him, and the move flowed like water. Bruce Li would be proud. I followed up with a heavy blow to the side of his head with my boot. Part of our imprisonment had included removing our personal affects, so I had no idea where my street clothes were. I didn’t give the blow enough force for any serious damage, but it would be enough to daze him, maybe even knock him out if I was lucky.

I threw the door open while he groaned on the floor. I managed all of maybe two steps before my arms was seized and I was slammed against the wall. I swear, my bones vibrated from the impact. I saw a helmet with a reflective visor and the broadest chest I had ever seen in my life. This man was huge. And unfortunately for me, he was also very skilled. My arm was yanked behind my back faster than I had time to process. He pulled, and I felt my socket strain to send stabs of pain through my arm and neck. Another faceless mook strode forward. But unlike Chapman, this one was decked in full body armor.

“Well done, recruit. You’ve passed Coach’s test. You will serve in Coach Stone’s cyber unit and in Research and Development. You will obey.”

“Like hell, I will,” I swore. That rewarded me with another painful jerk of my arm while a targeted blow forced me to my knees.

“Meathead recruit will comply.” The man withdrew a syringe from a side pocket and tapped the chamber to dislodge any air bubbles, then pulled off the protective cap with a deliberate casual air of the well-practiced. The substance was green, and the soldier had no qualms over pulling my sleeve up. I squirmed, but a yank of my other arm followed by a crushing iron grip on my free arm left me tense as he stabbed the needle into my arm and depressed the syringe. He removed the needle casually and replaced the cap, then inserted the syringe into another pouch.

The two visored faces stared at one another for the briefest of moments in a silent exchange. Then they nodded as the one who injected me rose, turned and entered the room where I had been held prisoner. A low groan emanated from the space, followed by a series of loud cracks.

“Rise, meathead. Follow.”

The voice that emanated in reply was deeper than I remembered. “This meathead obeys...” An even greater shock greeted me when the lumbering brute emerged. Chapman’s muscle mass had increased dramatically, and the man’s skull had completely reformed. Sharp, angular, square features blunted his face now, and his eyes were a vivid shade of green. The oversized gun didn’t look so ridiculous for him anymore.

“What the hell...?” I murmured.

“Meathead Champ will listen to orders. Meathead Champ will obey. Meathead Champ will fire on his roommate on command. Meathead Champ will prepare to fire now.”

“What?” I balked. I wanted to squirm again, but once more, my captor brought me to heel. I tried to shift out of his grip, but the hold was too strong. Even if I went limp, he’d still be able to haul me back up again. That didn’t stop me from trying, however.

I heard a whine not unlike the sound you hear in a sci-fi movie when a blaster is being charged or a bomb is being primed. The barrel was soon directed at my face. My heart hammered as Chapman uttered his mindless acknowledgement.

“Meathead Champ obeys. This meathead is ready to fire.”

“Fire.”

There was light, a strange tingling that bordered on the pleasant, and then blackness. I came to in an empty barracks. When I rose, everything felt ... heavy, awkward. The sight of the muscles bulging against the fabric of my shirt was more than enough to unsettle me as my throat clenched and my mouth went dry. I wanted to scream, but at the same time I knew better. I journeyed over my torso, my arms, everything. All of it felt in order, albeit significantly enhanced. It was my face I dreaded the most. And true to my fears, I could feel each sharply defined contour from my own transformation that was doubtless facilitated by the rifle. As a test, I ran through pi to see just how far in the infinite decimal sequence I could get. Then I searched through the other parts of my brain. I felt no compulsion, no absentmindedness, no blank emptiness or cotton or wool. I was clear, surprisingly so, given how quickly my mind seemed to jump from place to place.

“Comfortable?”

The question came out of nowhere, and I balked and bawled as my body sent me crashing into another bunk with the increased force of my new mass.

“Well, clearly not anymore,” the voice replied urbanely. I rounded on the figure only to see a man standing at least a head taller than I. His manner was relaxed and composed. His blond hair flickered like silver in the light. And though he was completely relaxed, his body oozed that smug command and intimidation that subconsciously demanded respect from those around him. “Please, take a moment to acclimate yourself. I find a blow to the shins is never pleasant.”

I decided to stick with sitting, rather than rick another launch with a body I had absolutely no experience with. “Who ... are you?” I winced at the depth of my voice. Logic only dictated it would have changed with the rest of my physique, but I had hoped it wouldn’t.

“A scientist of sorts. Biochemistry is my specialty, though I’ve branched out into many other fields.” He chuckled. “Why don’t you just stay there and we’ll have a nice chat between the two of us?” He lowered his broad frame onto the bed I had just launched myself from and gazed at me with vivid blue eyes. “My name is Stone. And you doubtless have many questions and expletives you want to voice, most likely not in that order.”

I felt like a broken record as curse after curse and swear after swear flowed out of me in an invective tirade. Denunciations and questions boomed from me like the retort of a cannon, emphasized by a number of curses and swears until that was all I heard winding down ... and down ... and down....

“Are you finished?”

A plaintive, almost defeated, “Fuck,” hissed from me as I rested my head in two massive hands.

“Glad you could get that out of your system. Now, do you have any real questions you wanted to ask me?”

“Why?” I finally managed to ask.

“You’re a programmer. You should understand. If a program doesn’t work the way it’s intended, you go into the code, find the bug, and fix it. Sometimes it’s messy work, but the end result is worth it. I’m doing that on a global scale, or at least I will in time. Getting rid of bigotry, erasing the divide between the strong and the weak to produce a better world for everyone.”

“You broke Chapman.”

“Champ is happy where he is. He chose it. He wanted it. You two had virtually the same IQ scores and talents, at least when it came to computer engineering and programming. Unlike you, though, Champ was fighting conditions that would make it so that he could never enjoy the same level of fitness and activity that you do. Such a lack eventually results in fantasies, a longing to experience what one never has had. Chapman threw it all away because he reveled in the chance to grow and swell. And, I admit, I fed that desire while he tried to hack the mainframe. I let him see where he would ultimately end up. And I gave him a simple choice. He accepted my offer to obey. He lied to you, pretended to fail, and complied with everything I told him whenever he signed in. He is living his fantasy now, and is deliriously happy to be receiving training as a part of my Meatheads.

Rage curled my lip, but I couldn’t do a thing. I wanted to lunge at the man, strangle him, but my body wouldn’t comply. All I could do was sit and watch.

“You may have noticed by now, but my meatheads can’t do anything against me. I’m their authority figure, their alpha. Or as they like to call me, Coach. You can’t attack me because I told you to stay there. And though you may want to deny it, I know that deep down, you’re enjoying the sensation of your new body just as much as Champ is.”

“How?”

“My formula.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “It’s not perfect yet, but the iterations I’ve produced from my original notes have been very useful in extending my control. I don’t want to be a dictator, but I’m not about to let the world stay as it is either. Shadow politics, assassinations, pointless bombings and wars, genocides, suicides. This world is a mess. I have the tools to fix that mess once and for all. And I intend to do just that. To sum it up for you, I’m my original test subject. And the formula worked wonders for me as a result, but it also rendered me ... incapacitated for a time. As a result, much of my research was lost, and I’ve had to rebuild using different iterations of my creation until I can find that special mix. On the plus side, as derivatives of my original formula, it seems that anyone exposed automatically becomes subservient to me. It makes things much simpler when dealing with intruders and espionage. It also helps with recruiting.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Because I wanted you to sample the goods. That, and because there are still those who can resist the full effects of my injections and other sources of integration for a certain period of time. As I said, the formula still needs work. But I like to use the less effective iterations for special cases like you. Your specialty in coding and computer engineering is something I need right now. And I want you to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, rather than on weights and muscle. That’s why I’m assigning you to our MEAT department.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I think we both know you can’t.” Stone smirked. “For the record, MEAT stands for Muscle Enhancement and Accelerated Transformation. You’ll be helping us to design and improve a number of methods and technologies to help smooth subject transitions into becoming Meatheads. And more importantly, on how to preserve their skills and knowledge while still incorporating them into the collective. In other words, research and development. Your specialty, if I recall correctly.”

“I don’t want to.”

Stone chuckled. “On the contrary. I think you do.”

“I do—” My tongue stuck. My jaw locked. I tried again. “I do—” Again, I had the same problem. Again, I couldn’t finish. “I ... do....”

Stone’s smirk widened into a sneer. “Glad we got that settled. Oh, and for the safer ones, I want you to experiment on yourself. I’m intrigued to see just what a smart obedient Meathead will look and act like.

I groaned another curse, which only further emphasized my captor’s glee. “Spoken like a true Meathead.”

“Whatever....”

“That’s right. Whatever I say, Meathead.” The cocky arrogance was gone, leaving behind a chilling glare that could cut through diamond. “And you will address me with respect as either Coach Stone, Coach, or Sir. Do I make myself clear?”

I clenched my mouth shut.

“Answer me,” Stone demanded.

“Yes, ... Sir.”

“Good.” His eyes flashed as he rose from his position. “Now follow me. I’ll guide you to your lab. You have a lot of work ahead of you, don’t you, Meathead?”

I couldn’t stop myself as I rose to follow him. “Yes, Sir, Coach.”

“That’s right.” He chuckled. “On second thought, let’s get you dressed first. Then we can visit the lab.”

“Whatever you say, Coach.”

“Good boy,” he purred. I shuddered in revulsion, both at his cold dominance and ... at the jolt of pleasure that surged with that acknowledgement. If that was how it felt now, how would I feel after a few months or years of working under him? Would I be able to resist?

...

Would I even want to?

I shuddered again. Hopefully, I would be able to find a solution before Coach made me a permanent team member. Or worse yet, before I did.

#coach stone #meathead #transformation #muscle #bro #dumber #dumb #musclehead #programming #computers #science #sci-fi #fiction

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ererokii · 3 years

Text

Line without a Hook || E. Jaeger & J. Kirstein

➳ Jean Kirsten x Fem Reader x Eren Jaeger

Word count: 4,517 Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, cursing ➳ note: this is based off the song Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery! I’ve been thinking this for a long time and I’m super excited by how it came out! Also big thanks to @reddriot for betaing!

➳ Synopsis: is love really worth it? Let me say, it’s not always worth it.

You can hold my hand if no one’s home.

Do you like it when I’m away?

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

It starts out simple really. A boy and a girl. Childhood friends, to be precise. Those two are inseparable. Nothing can tear the friends apart, besides their parents, of course. Like two peas in a pod.

Jean says he knows you like the back of his hand. He truly means that. He knows your favorite boy bands from when you were younger, how many terrible phases you’ve gone through, favorite foods, and places. If he wrote a novel about the things you told him, he would be a renowned author.

Since kindergarten to now, in the middle of your junior year, you and Jean have been side by side. You told him everything. From random vents and gossiping about the rude girls in your class to how horrible your period cramps were— even though Jean hated hearing about the last, he stuck through it for you.

Only you.

The pavement that followed the street your house was on is memorable. Jean can recall the amount of times you’ve had races, chalk scribbles covering the grey that would be washed away by the angry neighbors.

He listens to you as you talk about a kid getting in trouble in your Calculus class, watches how lively your motions are as you speak. Jean can’t help but smile when a laugh slips past your lips and you glance at him. There’s an unknown sparkle in his eyes, one filled with love.

You haven’t changed one bit, he thinks as he faces back forward, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His mind begins to wander as you both continue down the pavement, part of your routine when school ends.

Your houses are right next to each other. You’ve been with him since you were in diapers. He was there when your first tooth came out, congratulating you, and you were there for him when he finally learned to ride his bike with two wheels instead of three.

The bubbly lovable five-year-old back then is the same as you are now.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Oh all my emotions

Feel like explosions when you are around

A sigh of disappointment leaves Jean’s lips when he listens to Connie talk about something he has learned over the weekend (something completely stupid— he just doesn’t care). Currently, the students are at lunch, the cafeteria full with loud shouts and random noises.

“Connie, shut up,” Sasha groans, placing her water bottle on the table, wiping her crumbs off. “No one cares that you finally figured out how to stick a spoon to your nose.”

“What do you mean?! You were the one who showed me!”

The brunette gasps and looks over his way, cream cheeks tinted with an adorable shade of pink, pointing a finger at him. The bickering between the two commence as Jean listens, slightly amused.

As much as he indulges in their argument, he can't help but wonder where you are.

It’s not like you to skip lunch, especially without at least letting him know. Did you stay behind to talk to a friend? A teacher? Maybe you went to the bathroom.

But it’s at least 15 minutes in.

“Sasha,” he speaks up, slicking back his hair. The sound of her name catches her attention, making her look at him. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“Y/N?” she asks in a whisper before her lips curl in a grin, already knowing why he asked. “Do you miss her?”

“Just answer my goddamn question!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Connie asks, looking between his friends before stopping his gaze on Jean. “Why do you need Y/N?”

“Oh, you know! He lik-”

“Shut up!” Jean shouts, catching the attention of nearby students, his face heating up as his cheeks turn a darker pigment. “Just answer me!”

“If you must know,” she taunts him, twirling a strand of hair from her loose ponytail. “I saw her talking to someone in the hallway. Must be important, she’s been there for quite some time. Might want to be her knight in shining armor and saving her, huh?” she cocks her head to the side, staring at one of the windows in the room, watching as the branches of trees sway from the harsh winds.

The atmosphere outside was cold, breezes rushing down on anyone who was not inside. The sun was hidden by the thick grey blankets filled with rainwater, waiting to shower the world. The temperature recently has been dropping, mid 50’s at least. The weather was a shock, to say the least.

“I didn’t know Jean likes her!”

“What do you mean?!” Sasha gasps, turning her body to face her small-minded friend. “It’s only obvious! You must be really stupid then!”

“Well, how could you tell?!”

Before Jean has a chance to interrupt Sasha, she begins to rant. He prefers to stay silent, clasping his hands together in his lap as he lowers his head, finding interest in the marbled tiles of the floor his feet rest on.

The words that slip past Sasha’s lips reach his ear and out the other.

It’s easy to tell, Connie. Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything? Here you guys are, two close friends, I thought you would have known about his crush. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on every time he ditched plans with us to go hang out with her. He’s whipped, and you’re too stupid to know it.

His cheeks turn a shade of pink as his eyes squeeze shut, her words replaying in his head like a broken record player. Each sentence is like a knife stabbing away at his brain, causing the slightest ache to form in his frontal region.

She’s right. Anything she just said five minutes ago, is completely and utterly correct.

He can still hear her talking about it to Connie, but he can only focus on three sentences that stick to him like glue.

Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything?

Memories of him helping you in any possible way come to mind. He can’t recall how many times he has entered class two minutes late because you had so much to carry.

He stares at you like you’re the only thing worth looking at. It reminds him of those cliche animated movies with hearts in the character's eyes. He’s blinded by his love for you, that he never noticed any signs that you don’t feel the same way about him. His heart races miles per hour when you’re around. Sometimes he worries for himself that maybe, his heart might explode within him.

“Anyway, lunch has about 20 minutes left...where is she?” Connie mutters, scratching the top of his head.

“I don’t know, but,” Sasha grows quiet, listening to the ongoing thunder from the outside. The lights flicker for a second, a couple of yelps emitting from other students, slightly afraid that the power might go off while school is in session. “The storm is almost here.”

“Y/N!” Connie suddenly yells, pointing in the direction of the door, your body jogging closer to the table. “Where have you been?!”

“Sorry!” you laugh, out of breath as you drop your things on the bench, taking a seat beside Jean. “I got caught up in a conversation with someone! I guess I lost track of time for a bit.”

“I messaged you like four times,” Jean mutters, glancing over at you before looking at the table, playing with the plastic straw that he used to drink out of.

“You did?” you ask, pulling your phone out from your pocket, lips puckering when indeed he did so. “I’m sorry, Jean. I didn’t even feel my phone vibrate.”

“Oh, whatever, who cares! Eat! Or I’ll eat your food!” Sasha yells, pointing a finger at you, a smile gracing her features.

You laugh along with her as you converse with your peers, the conversation you had replaying in the back of your mind. Jean chooses not to intervene, instead would rather listen.

The roaring thunder plays in the background, everyone paying no mind to it. What he doesn’t know is that the storm is much closer than Jean could have thought.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Listen close, it’s a no

The wind is a pounding on my back

And I found hope in a heart attack

Oh at last, it is past

Now I’ve got it, and you can’t have it

Another evening, another study session, another day of bottling up his feelings until he can no longer hold them inside.

The storm made its way to shore, raining pouring down and even some hail; not what anyone was expecting.

Jean mindlessly flips through the pages of his English book, not even paying attention to the words as he checks how many pages are in chapter five.

“This seems pointless,” he adds with a sigh, tossing the book on your bed along with his highlighter he uses to annotate with. “I should just find a summary online or something, I don’t want to read this.”

“And why is that?” you ask, looking up from your book, placing the hardcover against your thighs. “Is it boring to you?”

“No,” he mutters, rolling onto his back. “It’s stupid. This love crap.”

“Well...it is a romance story, the teacher told us when we got the book. But why do you think it’s dumb?”

“He writes letters for her, and in the end, she ends up rejecting him. I don’t think that’s romantic.”

“And? It’s beautiful on his part,” you close your eyes as you stretch your arms over your head, letting out a grunt. “It’s the fact that he wrote to her every day. It’s like he poured his soul into every word. The words he uses are..literally everything. It makes me swoon over him, and he’s not real. Makes me wonder if someone would do that for me.”

Jean’s head perks up at your words, one of his eyebrows raised in curiosity when he notices the bashful look on your face, eyes averted to the comforter on your bed. “Why do you have that dopey look on your face?”

“Huh?!” your eyes are blown open as you look over at him. “What are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about that, idiot,” he points at your face, watching your eyes cross faintly to stare at his finger. “You’re acting about that guy in the book.”

The patter of the rain is the only noise that fills the void called silence in your room. His warm eyes don’t leave your face at all, waiting for your answer. You’ve been acting weird ever since you were late to lunch this past week.

He watches your mouth open as if you’ll say something but close it right away, like you were concealing anything you had to hide.

“...well? Y/N? Are you there?”

“Yeah!” you cough into your elbow, running a hand down your face. “I-- you can’t tell anyone.”

“You know I never tell anyone what we talk about.”

You’re silent, a bit too quiet than usual. You fiddle with your fingers before blurting the words that have been eating away at you.

Jean’s heart stops for a moment, eyes wide in shock when he processes it. His blood runs cold as he’s unable to move, frozen like a statue. The signals in his brain begged him to respond, but he couldn’t. He could hear the faintest sound of bells ringing in his ears; all noise surrounding him was now drowned out by his thoughts.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

“You like someone?” he asks in a whisper, barely audible to your ears, but you heard as you nod shyly, biting down on your lip. “Well... who is it?”

“That’s...I can’t say it.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I’m afraid to say it out loud because I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him.”

Friendship? That could be anyone at this point.

I have to figure out who, he thinks as he draws random patterns into the sheets. “Well, tell me about him then. Is he in our grade?” he asks.

“Yeah, he is. He’s in four of my classes.”

Jean was in four of your classes. Math, English, Foreign Language, and Science.

“That’s it?”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Can I finish before you interrupt? Thank you.”

You pause momentarily before speaking again.

“He’s stubborn. I’ve noticed that his demeanor changes when it depends on who he is with. He seems like a hardass and looks like he doesn’t want to be bothered, but he seems like a total softie when he’s with people he loves. Not to mention he’s hot...and tall. He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.”

Jean takes every word you say into consideration. He’s stubborn, it seems that he doesn’t like to be around people he doesn’t know but loves those he does know. He knows he’s hot. Practically every day he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks about how good he looks.

He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he really seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.

Jean can feel his doubt and worry turn into happiness and confidence as you keep on ranting, to which he’s not fully paying attention anymore. He knows it's him. It has always been him.

No one else.

Jean likes you.

And you like Jean, that’s all there is to it.

“Do you want to tell him?”

“Yeah...” you trail off, scratching the nape of your neck. “I want to tell him on Friday after school. Do you think he’ll like me back?”

“I think he would. How could he not? He would be a total idiot to reject you.”

You hum at his reassurance, placing your hand on his, squeezing gently.

“Thanks, Jean.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Darling when I’m fast asleep

I've seen this person watching me

Saying, “Is it worth it? Is it worth it?”

Tell me, is it worth it?

Friday comes, and Jean can hardly wait for school to end. He’s not paying attention, his eyes constantly staring from the whiteboard in the front to the clock that tauntingly ticks slower than usual.

He bites down on the pink end of his pencil in anticipation, tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor, the noise resonating through the classroom.

Maybe I should just keep my eyes off the clock, he thinks, lowering his head back to the worksheet their teacher gave the class.

Econ class was a drag. He could care less about the differences in macro and microeconomics, the same with Communism and Capitalism. It’s just a bunch of words that don’t make sense to his brain.

This was one of the classes he didn’t have with you, the last class.

Instead of doing his worksheet (luckily, the teacher said it would be for homework if it wasn’t finished), Jean proceeded to think about ways he could tell you his feelings.

He could be old fashioned, tell you how much he adores you and how happy you make him feel when you’re around. How his heart can be heard from the outside of his body, how his hands got warm and clammy, maybe sweaty when he became too nervous.

He could ask you out on a date. Take you somewhere, one of the places you’ve told him in the past that would make a great date for you. He smiles when he thinks about taking you downtown at night, looking at the soft lights that would brighten the streets; loving the sparkle in your orbs as you look around in awe.

He hums, pleased with himself when he figures out what he’ll do, scratching the back of his ear.

He wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

You glance at your table partner, looking at his piece of paper before looking down at yours, displeased how his is able to look better than yours. You pick up your eraser, gently wiping the shadings away from your drawing, careful not to crease your paper.

“It’s not that hard you know, you just don’t know how to shade.”

“I know how to shade, Eren,” you reply with a huff, placing your eraser back down. “It’s just...this is a bit harder than usual.”

“All you have to do is follow the markings,” he presses the edge of his drawing pencil against the reference photo both of you are using, tracing the shape of it. “You could honestly just copy the photo, I doubt this woman would even notice.”

You chuckle at his choice of words, shifting in your seat to get comfortable. “I don’t think she would anyway. She just stares at it and calls it an A. I bet for our expressive project, she wouldn’t notice if we copied each other.”

He shakes his head with a smile, the loose strands of his hair swaying with his head movement. “No, she wouldn’t,” he rolls the sleeves of his hoodie to his elbows, grabbing his pencil again. “Then again, we are working on it with each other.”

“Speaking of that, what should we do?”

“Up to you, Y/N. I don’t mind. I’m just trying to pass this stupid class anyway.”

You relish in the silence between you as you gaze at him from your peripheral. You take notice how his hair frames his face effortlessly to the dip in his nose. It’s perfect how it forms to his cupid’s bow to his lips; not too big nor too small either. Just right.

You clear your throat, scratching at the nape of your neck. “Why not do...stages of love?”

That catches his interest.

“Stages of love?” he asks, moving in his chair to face you, a hand propping his head up. “Elaborate?”

“Like you know...how we gain a crush on someone. We like how they make us feel, and soon we think about them some more. Maybe make little scenarios in our head. Then we gain the crush and want to be around them. You know what I mean, right?”

He’s silent, hues that represent the blue of rivers, boring into your own. At first, you think he hates your idea, but then the corner of his lips curls into his infamous grin. “Yeah, I like that. Did you have anything else in mind?”

“Maybe...rejection?”

“Rejection?” he repeats, a bit shocked at how romantic your words were, to something filled with sadness. “And why would you want to do rejection?”

“W-Well,” you stutter, unsure how you should put it. “Everyone always talks about the good in love but never the bad. And I think it could be done good, you know?”

He hums, scratching away at his chin before nodding. “Yeah, alright. That sounds oddly specific, but I like it. We can honestly get started soon, that way, we can finish faster and not worry about it.”

His smile throws you for a loop, your face heating up as you pick up your pencil, trying to distract yourself.

“Say, Y/N?”

“Yes, Eren?” you reply a bit too quickly, cursing yourself out internally for sounding too desperate.

“Can we talk?” his cheeks are a shade of pink, his eyes averted as he plays with one of the strings of his hood, reminding you how a child would distract themselves. The tips of his shoe nudge against yours, barely kicking gently.

“Aren’t we talking right now?”

“No, I mean after school.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

And in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer

Watching over me, he’s singing,

Jean storms out of his Econ class with a grin, hands gripping onto the straps of his backpack as he looks down one end of the hallway before going down the other direction. The art room was three classes down his. Usually, Jean will wait right there by the door for you since you take ages to finally leave the classroom.

When Jean finally reaches the room, he sees that the doors are locked, and the lights inside are off.

Huh, that’s weird, you’re always one of the last to leave, nor are you ever this early.

He stands there for a few more seconds, peering in through the small glass, and sees nothing before taking a step back and quickly continues to walk down the hall. His legs are quicker, going down the two flights of stairs.

His eyes frantically search for the yellow shirt you wore, unable to find you anywhere.

“Sasha!” he calls out once he reaches the end of the stairs, running towards the girl and their friend, who was at the lockers, pulling things she needed to take home for the weekend.

The brunette looks over her shoulder, stopping her conversation with Connie as she shuts her locker. “Yeah, Jean?”

He pants, leaning on his knees before letting out a deep breath and standing straight up. “Have you seen Y/N?”

She ponders for a while before shaking her head, looking over at Connie, who shakes his head, shrugging. “We haven’t seen her since Art class.”

“You didn’t see where she went at all?”

The events before class ending play in her mind before she gasps, snapping her fingers, pointing up at Jean. “Yeah, I know where she went!”

“...are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to guess?!”

She mocks him for a second before pulling her phone out. “I could have seen her leave with Eren. I think they went to the bench in the back. You know the one I’m talking about?”

He’s taken aback for a moment before shaking his head, retaining the information. “Alright, thanks.”

Why would you even be with Eren right now? You never meet with him after-

“Are we still on for this weekend?!” Connie yells when Jean is making his way down the corridor.

“Yeah, we are!” Jean's voice travels through the air, reaching both of his friends, hands clammy as they’re shoved in the front pocket of his pants.

The walk to the back courtyard was tiresome. His feet seemed to drag behind him, an aching feeling forming in his gut. Thoughts pounded against his skull repeatedly, trying to force him to stop. He wants to stop, but he has to go.

He has to tell you he loves you.

He can’t help but smile when you describe the boy you like this week. In his mind and most certainly his heart, he was the king of the world sitting on his high horse as he screamed in victory, letting the whole world know that the person he likes, feels the same way about him.

The fresh air from the outside meets his nostrils as he deeply inhales, allowing it to enter his body before exiting. The sun is the first thing he meets with as he exits the building, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes away from the harsh light. He mutters something under his breath as he looks around for a second.

“She’s a,

She’s a lady and I’m just a boy”

His honey orbs finally stop on a bench where you and Eren are seated, that’s not too far away, but his body is hidden from your view. He lets out a sigh of relief, leaves crunching underneath his feet as he walks, not taking long strides, rather walking slow to rethink what he’ll say.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you for a long...no,” he mutters, stopping in his tracks as he looks down at the green grass and leaves, kicking away at them. “I’ve loved- no, that sounds a bit aggressive, goddammit,” he groans, tugging at the roots of his hairs. “Why is this so fucking hard?!” he growls underneath his breath, leaning against the brick wall.

He never was anything else but honest with you. How could he say it?

What if this ruins your relationship?

...what if you liked Eren?

His breath hitches in his throat when realization dawns on him. His lips part, a soft exhale releasing from within him. His fingers curl around nothing, as if he was holding the air’s hand. The tips of his fingers shake, his whole body stiffening as he stares hard at nothing.

How could he be so stupid?

It all made sense now. How you stayed behind during lunch that one time without saying anything; in the back of his mind that day, he knew that someone had to be a boy, maybe a girl. Even then, you would always let him know.

Jean should have known from the beginning that you only saw him as a brother.

His chest aches as his vision goes blurry, biting down on the inside of his lip to the point where he can taste the bitter metallic on his tongue. He squeezes his eyes shut before opening, wishing he hadn’t at that moment.

He’s singing

“She’s a, she’s a lady and I am just a line without a hook.”

His heart breaks, stomach-dropping when he sees Eren’s hand brings you closer to his body, lips pressed up against yours; your hand placed on his cheek, cradling his face. Even from where he stands, he can sense the urgency in the kiss, how your bodies move together as one, how your fingers grip onto him like he’ll leave any moment.

His lower lip quivers for a second, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. Jean cranes his neck upward, looking at the sky, muttering the words, “Why him?” over and over like a mantra, no other words coming to mind.

When he closes his eyes, all he can see is you. Not Eren, just you. Those moments where you laugh, cry, or stay silent, those are the moments that flash in his head.

Did he do something to you? Was it something he said?

Did you ever like him at all?

“It’s pointless,” he whispers, pushing himself off the brick wall, immediately making a beeline for the doors. He swallows harshly, legs moving faster than ever, wanting to get out of this hell hole called reality.

Like every day, you’ll walk down the same pavement you’ve been walking on for years.

Only this time, he’s walking alone.

Oh, and if I could take it all back

I swear that I would pull you from the tide.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

taglist: @sleepysnk @jaegerbomb20 @reddriot @kkiimmberly @kingtamakimurder @tamasoft @byougen @spike-this-ass @crimsonbows-and-arrows @squidonmywall @thicmitten (message me to be apart of it!)

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #attack on titan imagines #shingeki no kyojin imagines #eren imagines #eren jaeger imagines #jean imagines #jean kirstein imagines

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kiwixlime · 2 years

Text

Finders Keepers - Chapter Six

A/N: The tumblr app sucks. But thanks for reading!

“What do you know about Esther?” Ellie asks one afternoon as she’s draped over Bay’s bright blue futon. She has a comic in her hands, some retro thing Bay suggested, and she hums along to whatever song is coming from the record player.

Over the weeks, Ellie has made herself quite comfortable at Bay’s place. When she’s not at her own little garage, or hanging out with Cat, she’s at Bay’s, either watching old movies or listening to really emo records. At first Bay was uncomfortable with the company, but Ellie eventually grew on her and she’s heard Joel mention once or twice just how much the teenager loves hanging out with her.

On the television, one of those old movies plays. It’s something that Ellie chose, becoming bored with it before it was over. She then decided to raid Bay’s comic collection and kitchen. So that’s how she ended up in Bay’s living room, happy as a clam, asking about some woman named Esther.

It takes Bay a minute to try to rack her brain for someone named Esther. Then it hits her, she’s a woman around Jackson who spends most of her time between the greenhouses and working at the bar. She doesn’t know much, but she knows enough to recognize a face. That’s it.

“Uhm,” Bay shrugs. “I really don’t know a lot about her,” she says. “I’m not a very social person, Ellie. I pick like three people at a time to bond with and that’s enough for like, a year.” Her admission does make her think for a second, and only a second, that maybe she needs to branch out and get to know the town she’s lived in for a year.

Meh.

“Why do you ask?” She questions, scooting from one spot on the floor to another. She places herself in front of her coffee table, making an attempt to organize the mess Ellie created in the short hour that she’s been there. She hears the younger girl sigh dramatically and scoffs when she drops the comic she’s been reading back into the pile Bay just cleaned up.

“Joel said that Tommy’s trying to set him up with some woman named Esther,” Ellie says and Bay stops what she’s doing, dropping some of the comics back down. Her mind blanks and a weird feeling settles deep inside her. Joel and Esther. She wrinkles her nose. She doesn’t love the sound of that.

“O-oh,” Bay says, attempting to keep her voice uninterested when all she can think about is Esther and if Joel likes her.

“I don’t know,” Ellie says, interrupting Bay’s mental pity party. “Joel says he’s not interested, but Tommy’s really pushing it. And I thought maybe you could tell me about her.” She states, hopefully.

“You’re acting very protective,” Bay points out with a smile. It’s something she’s noticed about Ellie. She’s very loyal and defensive of the people she loves.

“I am,” Ellie admits in a serious tone. “Joel’s always looked out for me. And I’ve done the same for him.”

“I suppose it’s up to your dad,” Bay says, noticing the way Ellie flinches when she says the word dad. “I haven’t met Esther. I’ve only seen her a handful of times. But I’ve heard she’s cool. I don’t know what Joel’s type is…and I’m assuming you don’t either?”

Ellie laughs and makes a face of disgust. “Definitely not,” she says as if it's the most disgusting thing in the world to think about.

“How would you feel about him dating someone?” Bay asks. She’s just curious since Ellie seems less than thrilled with the idea of Esther joining their little family. Is she closed off to the possibility of Joel dating anyone, at all?

Ellie’s quiet for a minute, a pensive look on her face as she thinks of how to word her answer. “I mean, I’d love it for him. If he found someone to make him happy,” she says. “I know he has a complicated past, but I think he deserves to find love..or whatever people have these days.”

Bay nods, biting back a smile. Ellie’s very eloquent.

“Have you ever been in love?” The teen asks. The question shouldn’t have surprised Bay, but it does. It’s not something she’s ever talked about…with anyone…ever.

Bay shakes her head, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips. “No,” she reveals after a moment of silence. “I was just a kid when the virus hit. And then when I got older, I mean…I had relationships…” she says, careful not to mention her very brief history with Tommy. “But I never loved anyone I was with…”

“Hmm,” Ellie hums, and Bay swallows the lump in her throat, shifting her eyes away from Ellie. There are some pretty intense feelings swirling around her stomach right now. She needs the attention off of her. Now.

“What about you?” Bay asks, taking the spotlight off her own love life. “Is there anyone here you’re interested in?” She asks, knowing that she’s seen Ellie and Cat spend some time together. It’s totally innocent, but there’s fliration there and long glances. It’s definitely not nothing.

Ellie blushes, but changes the subject. “Hey, we’re talking about Joel,” she smiles, but her face gives her away, cheeks dusted with a bright pink.

“Okay, okay,” Bay grins, but she keeps that look locked away for a future time. “Listen, Tommy always has everyone’s best interest at heart, El.” She says. “And I’m sure Joel is capable of leading his own life. But they’re brothers. That’s what brothers do. He’s just looking out for him.”

“Yeah, but,” Ellie says, “I don’t know. I’m looking out for him, too.”

“I know,” the other girl says. “But behind these walls, we have a sense of normalcy. And that means anything can happen, even relationships, just like before.”

“I guess,” Ellie sighs, but she’s not done. “They’re going on a date tonight, you know?”

“What?” Bay blurts out, obviously stunned. She’s trying really hard to keep her cool, but she doesn’t know how much longer she can fake it. Why is she feeling like this anyway? Not once has Joel ever expressed any interest in her. And she’s certainly never said anything to him.

“Yeah,” Ellie scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not supposed to say anything,” she adds. “It’s some secret setup, dinner at Tommy and Maria’s and Esther is a special guest. Joel doesn’t know and if I’m being honest, I think he’s gonna be pissed.”

“Tommy,” Bay curses with a shake of her head. “Always putting himself into everyone’s lives whether they want it or not.”

“Yeah,” Ellie mumbles. “Anyway, I should get going. I told Cat I’d meet her in the square.” She sighs and stands up, walking to the front door, Bay following behind. “Thanks,” she says. “For listening to my bullshit and for letting me crash here for a bit.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” Bay mentions. “I’ll see you around.”

--*--

“Tommy, I told you,” Joel snaps angrily at his brother. “I’m not interested!”

The two of them are standing in front of Tommy and Maria’s house, Joel seething with rage. After their patrol shift, Tommy invited Joel over for dinner, saying that he and Maria wanted to have him for a chat and to catch up. Of course, Joel agreed. Though if he knew what the two other Millers were planning he would have said no.

“Well,” Tommy sighs with a small smile on his face. “She’s already inside. So just be nice and get to know her.”

“Maybe I don’t want to!” The older brother grunts. “I don’t like bein’ ambushed, Tommy, and that’s exactly what you and your wife have done.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, pacing back and forth. “I could leave right now.”

“But you won’t,” Tommy challenges. “You know that’d disappoint Maria.”

“I don’t give a damn,” Joel says, dismissively.

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Tommy counters. “Now, get over yourself. Put a damn smile on your face and at least pretend to have a good time. If you’re absolutely miserable, I won’t do it again. You have my word. But just give her a chance, Joel. I’m tellin’ you, you won’t regret it.”

After a few moments, Joel stops his movements. Hands on his hips, he sighs, defeated. “Fine,” he says, but not without another warning. “Don’t ever do this again,” he says. “I mean it.”

“I swear,” Tommy says, gesturing for Joel to go inside. “Dinner awaits.”

With a groan, Joel leads the way, opening Tommy’s front door; the door to Hell. As he steps inside he can smell the spices, the sauces, that carry through the house in a delicious chorus. The house is warm and comfortable and his stomach betrays him, growling lowly at the smell of a roast and vegetables. Okay, so he’s not thrilled about the date portion of the evening, but he’s more than ready to eat.

The brothers make their way deeper into the house, rounding the corner into the dining room where four placements are set neatly. A set of candles sit in the middle of the table, flames dancing and illuminating the area around them. It’s a nice setting, almost romantic. And Joel cringes at the thought.

Behind them, two female voices carry, getting louder with each passing second. Joel tenses, eyes glaring daggers at his little brother. He hates everything about this right now.

“Be nice,” Tommy whispers, punching Joel’s shoulder a little too hard as he walks past to greet his wife. “Hi, honey,” he grins. “Smells delicious in here.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” she hums, nodding to the woman standing next to her. “Esther helped. She’s very good in the kitchen,” she adds, as if that’s some selling point for Joel. He is -- was -- a single father. He’s good in the kitchen, too.

Still, he puts on his best smile, though forced, and greets his sister-in-law warmly. “Maria, thanks for having me.”

“It’s our pleasure, Joel,” she smiles and sends a knowing look to her husband. She sets the casserole dish down on the table and motions to the only other woman in the room. “This is my friend, Esther.” She says.

“Hi,” the woman, Esther, says with a bright smile, outstretching her hand for Joel’s. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Maria and Tommy have talked about you so much, you’re practically famous.”

“Oh,” he chuckles, feeling like he doesn’t know what to say. “Uh, well, you can’t believe everything you hear.” He glances to Tommy and Maria then back to Esther, who’s smiling uncontrollably.

Joel shifts in his place, feeling warm under her stare. Okay, so she’s quite pretty, nice smile, contagious actually, friendly. And she’s clearly loved by his brother and sister-in-law, so what’s the problem?

“Come, you two!” Maria chimes, taking her place at the table. “Sit, sit,” she encourages. “Let’s get this night started.”

--*--

It’s awkward. It’s very awkward. Joel feels like he’s an animal on display at a zoo. All eyes are on him, all conversation is about him, and he doesn’t like it. Not at all. He can’t begin to explain how much he’d rather be at home with Ellie watching some corny horror movie instead of at this exhibition.

But Tommy was right, Esther is funny. Joel can admit that she’s made him laugh a few times this evening. And he appreciates that. However, it’s not enough. Sure, Esther would make a great friend, someone to have fun with and have the occasional chat, but Joel doesn’t feel anything more than respect.

He respects that Esther is devoted to life in Jackson, she’s very much active in the community, loves working in the greenhouse, and can make a killer cocktail at the bar. She knows just when to laugh, proving that she’s fun to joke around with, and doesn't take life too seriously. She’s sweet, kind, mature, all things that Joel is attracted to and yet, nothing.

Esther, however, is just smitten with him. She wants to know everything she possibly can. She asks questions about his life before Jackson, but not before the outbreak and he opens up a little, but not much. He thinks of life before Jackson and he thinks about Sarah, and his ex. He thinks about the people he’s met in the new world and he thinks about Tess, about Ellie, and for some reason, he thinks, momentarily, about Bay.

And Esther is different from his ex. She seems loyal. She’s different from Tess as she’s soft. And most of all, she’s different from Bay, who once again enters his mind, as Esther is, well, age-appropriate.

He thinks this through most of the dinner while he answers questions from Esther, and ignores the looks from Tommy. He knows his brother wants the best for him, and he can agree that maybe it’s time he put himself back out there, but that’s a serious discussion he needs to have with himself.

After eating, Esther says her goodbyes. She hugs Tommy and Maria and shakes Joel’s hand, saying she looks forward to getting to know him more. He nods, gives a polite smile, and tells her it was nice to meet her.

Once she leaves, the three Millers sit in silence, just staring at each other. Overall, the dinner was a success. The conversation was nice, light. Joel was able to let loose a little and Tommy and Maria are always a fun time.

“I should help you clean up,” Joel says, breaking the tension. “It was a lovely dinner, Maria, thank you.”

“Nonsense,” she waves him off. “You’re a guest. I just hope you had a nice time. I know this was a bit of a shock for you, but I think it went really well.” She stands up, taking her plate with her. As she passes Tommy, she leans down and kisses his head. “Help me out when you two are done,” she whispers.

Joel nods without saying a word and Maria heads into the kitchen, leaving the two brothers alone. Once she’s out of earshot, Tommy clears his throat. “You seemed to have a good time,” he says to Joel.

Grunting, Joel stands up abruptly, his chair screeching against the hardwood floor. “Please tell your wife I said goodbye,” he states as he makes his way to the front door.

“Now, hold on a second,” Tommy calls out after him, but he doesn’t stop. “Joel, wait!”

“I have to get back,” Joel snips. “I’ll see you tomorrow for patrol.”

“Joel, come on, you were havin’ a nice time,” Tommy insists. “You really gonna stay mad at me? I know what I saw…you two were bonding.”

“Tommy!” Joel shouts, losing his cool. “I’m not talkin’ about this now. I said I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

Nodding, Tommy sighs and lets Joel leave, hoping that his older brother knows that everything he does, comes from the heart. He just wants Joel to be happy.

--*--

After leaving Tommy’s, Joel decides to take the long way back home. He just needs some time to think, to calm down. He’ll apologize to Tommy tomorrow morning, knowing that his brother’s intentions were good. It was just a lot to take in for one night.

As he passes the square, he notices Bay under the faint street lights. She’s not alone; there’s a man with her, someone Joel’s never seen before. To be fair, he hasn’t met a lot of the Jackson residents yet. He’s only been there about a month.

Still, he can’t help but feel just a tad bit jealous. Was Bay also on a date tonight? Sighing, he slows his pace as he walks closer to where they stand. He feels like a creep, quietly watching the two of them. He notices the way the man's hand runs down Bay’s arm and the way she laughs when he whispers in her ear.

Joel feels jealousy in his veins and in that moment he realizes he feels more watching Bay and this guy than he did all evening talking to Esther. Possessiveness burns in his stomach, but he can’t tear his eyes away. This is a new feeling for him.

Luckily, that feeling fades and a sense of relief washes over him when the man steps back and away from Bay. Closer now, Joel can hear as the man says goodbye and Bay does the same. Once he leaves, she turns around, a smile on her face, and spots Joel. Tilting her head, her smile widens and she walks over to him.

The older man stops where he is and waits for Bay to reach him. The way all the negative feelings vanish from him the second she steps in front of him is concerning. But he doesn’t think about that now. He can’t afford to.

“How was your date?” She asks with a cheesy grin.

Confused, Joel stutters. “How the hell did you know about that?”

“Tommy,” she laughs. “Plus, earlier Ellie asked me everything I knew about Esther. Said you had a date. She was really grilling me, by the way.” She discloses.

“That kid,” Joel scoffs, but he can’t help but feel a little proud of Ellie.

“She cares,” Bay replies. “She’s a good one.”

“I know,” he agrees. He changes the subject, glancing behind Bay for any sign of that guy she was just with. “Looks like you were on a date, too?” He asks, trying to be subtle.

Bay turns around, looking for whatever Joel is looking for. “Oh, him?” She snorts. “That’s just Johnny. He’s kind of like, one of my regulars? He always asks me to find the most bizarre things. If I didn’t know that he had eclectic taste, I’d assume he was doing this shit to test me.”

“Oh,” Joel sighs in relief. He won’t lie, he’s pleased to hear that.

“So?” Bay pushes. “Tell me about your date!”

“Nothin’ much to tell,” he admits. “It was fine, I guess. I’m not…”

“Go on,” Bay encourages. She doesn’t really want to hear about his date, but they’re friends, right? And friends support one another.

“She’s nice,” Joel manages to say. “I don’t see anything happening there, though.”

That’s all Joel says on the matter. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it, so Bay doesn’t ask anymore questions. She knows better than to push, especially when Ellie said that the whole setup pissed him off.

“You headed home?” He asks her.

“Nah,” she shakes her head. “I’m on watch duty tonight with Ronnie. Dreading it, but doing it,” she says rather unenthusiastically.

“Ronnie’s always a laugh,” Joel offers and Bay nods.

“What about you?” She wants to tease him about his date, but she knows Joel has a temper and she’s been on the other side of that before. She’s not looking to go for another round anytime soon.

“Got a woodworking shop set up in the house,” he tells her. “Might work on somethin’ tonight. I’d love to get a guitar--”

“I’m sorry,” Bay cuts him off. “Did you say woodworking? And guitar? Excuse me?” She laughs.

“What?” Joel defends.

“You woodwork? You play guitar? Why don’t I know this?” She asks. “What else are you hiding?”

“I’m not hidin’ anything!” He chuckles. “Jesus, girl.”

“You’re full of secrets, Joel Miller,” Bay tsks and shakes her head. “One day I’m gonna figure them all out.”

Joel snorts. “I’ll be waitin’, sweetheart.”

Do you want to be on my tag list? Let me know and I’ll set one up!

Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel tlou #kiwi fics

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docockbrainrot · 3 years

Text

i think i want you (to leave)

Summary: We’re all running from something. Sometimes, metaphorically. Sometimes, literally. Literally running, from the very strangely hypnotizing supervillain that seems hellbent on ruining every bit of your life he can get all eight of his limbs on.

Pairing: Doc Ock X Reader/ Otto Octavius X Reader

Content: Slow Burn, NSFW eventually, 18+

AO3 link here.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

anathema// former vandal

The next several days are an uneventful blur. You barely leave your apartment, except for brief dog walks and grabbing food from the bodega across the street.

It’s 9 pm on Saturday and you’re fresh out of the shower, tucked away in a very fuzzy robe, lounging on the couch and watching YouTube on your television. You almost miss the subtle taptaptaptap sound coming from your window, you're so engrossed in the cooking show you’ve been binging. Gotta fill the void somehow, right?

You can’t see anything outside from where you’re sitting. The lights are on and make it impossible to peer through the reflections on the glass. Maybe it’s a bird. Or a branch is caught on the fire escape. Either way, you certainly can’t be assed to check it out and you take another sip of your chamomile tea- you’ve been trying everything under the sun, just about short of literally snorting lines of melatonin, to try to sleep better at night. Nothing’s been working. But you have been making a very valiant effort.

A few moments go by and you forget all about the window disturbance until,

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP.

It’s jarring. It’s loud. Above all else, it’s annoying. Chekov spares you a look, like you’re the one making a racket. Effectively exasperated, you make an effort to set, not slam, down your mug, feeling decidedly not Calm and Relaxed as the tea promised. Suppose it’s not miracle shit though, is it? You would not be a good candidate for a horror movie because you fearlessly storm over to the window and throw it open (it wasn’t locked in the first place; you’re quite terrible at remembering to). You stick your head out and glower at whatever irritating mischief is happening out here, ready to rip the fire escape off the side of the brick building.

You’re greeted by something cold and hard (and indubiously metal, judging by how it felt against your sternum) shoving you back into your apartment, sending you sprawling unceremoniously to the hardwood floor. A string of profanities ready to leave your tongue, you sit up and adjust your robe in an attempt to preserve a modicum of your modesty. The rant dies in your throat as red eyed claws grip the threshold of your pre-war window and it’s almost comical the way He maneuvers himself in, far too large to be making these sorts of entrances. Standing up to his full height before you while you’re still sitting dumbfounded on the floor reminds you of just how impressively built he is. You manage to pick your jaw up, but your ass remains firmly planted on the wood.

“Uh… you could have just used the buzzer, dude. I have a front door, you know,” you sputter out, brain blitzing in pretty much every way possible. Your thoughts are racing and eventually they settle on the most important thing you can think to ask in that moment: “... Why aren’t you wearing a shirt.” You can't help the way your eyes are drawn to his broad chest, gaze lingering on the vast scarring that spills out from the metal contraption clamped around his midsection.

Otto very graciously closes the window behind himself. Or at least his little robot accomplices do it for him. You still aren’t sure what’s going on with that- the whole AI thing. Not even a blip on your radar of concerns at this point. “Didn’t want anyone to see me come in. Your building has a camera on the front, facing the street.”

“That’s why you’re shirtless?” You ask dumbly. Interesting method of camouflage. “What? No- what? It doesn’t matter- listen to me. I need you to do something for me. A small favor.”

He doesn’t seem to notice the compromised position he put you in. Typical. Gathering up your broken pride, you get up and tighten the tie of your robe a bit. It isn’t until then that he has the decency to look a smidge embarrassed and you hope you didn't just give him a free show on your way to getting to your feet. “You literally just broke into my apartment and now you’re asking for a favor? We barely know each other!”

“Less complicated when there's nothing personal involved yet, plus- you let me in,” he corrects you. You wish he would stop doing that. You wish he would stop meeting with you like this, under weird and mysterious circumstances. Even though it's only been like twice. You're already over it.

“You threw me across the room!”

“Touche.”

Otto does not apologize and you did not sincerely expect him to. The look on his face reads more like the cat that got the canary than regretful. You feel as though you’ve come to recognize that expression on his face and you also feel as though you don’t much like the fact that you’ve enough encounters with this man that you can recognize a damn thing about him. “What… could you possibly need me to do for you? I am not robbing a bank.” You just want to get that out into the open as soon as possible.

“I don’t need your help robbing a bank,” he snorts as if the idea is preposterous and you take a moment to feel insulted. Wow. Okay. You could totally rob a bank if you wanted to. Deciding to not comment on your wounded ego, you let him get to the point. Otto pulls something out of his inner coat pocket. It's some kind of rolled up paper and you think at first maybe it's a newspaper or magazine. He unfurls it onto the coffee table and holds it open with two metal claws on either side so it doesn't ravel itself back up.

You realize it's a blueprint. "This is… Oscorp," you point out stupidly, brow furrowing in confusion. There's levels to what's happening here. Layers upon layers, melding together with rot and decay and you can all but smell it. But there's something missing, something that would tie all of the wackjob shit that's been happening to you and around you together. It feels like when you have a very particular thought and then walking into another room makes it dissolve from your head. You're trying to grasp for it, to fit the puzzle pieces together, but it's just out of reach.

"Yes. It is. I have a small task I need you to do," Otto starts off, metal phalanges pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head as he looks over at you. For the first time, you can see his eyes in the light. The warm amber feels like a mockery- you have seen his cruelty in action.

"Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" Of course he'd say that.

Your fingertips brush against the metaphorical wayward chain link. It's right there. You just have to grab it and pull it back to you, like the anchor of a ship before it can set sail.

He's talking. You aren't listening. He's tracing a finger over the schematics. You don't see it. Realization washes over you in a heart-dropping tsunami. The voicemail you got from Oscorp plays like a broken record in your mind. 'Hello, Y/N. We're calling in regards to your employment status here at Oscorp. Unfortunately, due to a breach of security, we are having to make staffing cuts and are going to have to let you go. We appreciate your time and effort and wish you the best of luck in your next endeavor.' It didn't make sense at the time. A lot of things didn't. You replay the scene of poor David, desperately pleading for his life at the hands of the man hunched over here, just in your living room. You mentally re-run it over and over like bad 80s sitcoms on late night television.

"Lab Coat Guy…"

You don't realize you whispered it out loud until Otto goes silent.

"What?"

You slowly look at him and take a single step backwards, shaking your head. The company embroidered on David's lab coat hadn't been clear to you in the moment- but it's crystal in hindsight. Oscorp. "You got me fired." Your tone is flat, until anger flashes through you, like a streak of lightning through a dark, moonless sky, illuminating all of things that didn’t make sense before.

"It doesn't matter. What I need you to do-" He's so nonchalant, so blasé that it only stokes the embers of frustration until there's a roaring blaze burning beneath your skin. It's all about him, what he needs, what he wants. He has the nerve, the audacity, to keep traipsing into your life, kicking you while you're down and then ask for favors? You want to say all of that to him but unfortunately for you, you're an angry crier. Your outburst of bravery at him the last time you saw each other had surprised even you- but now there's so much more emotion roiling around inside you.

"No. No, no. Fuck you. You got me fired! I can't- I can't not have a job, I have to pay rent! You could get me arrested for just talking to you!" Oscorp had you canned to tie up any potential loose ends before anymore Davids could slip through the cracks. You think about how scared the poor dude must have been, threatened into stealing blueprints from the biggest corporation in the city, for one of the most infamous criminals. You don't know how they found out you were even remotely involved and you don't want to know.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks and once the floodgates have opened you're very familiar with how long it's going to take to close them again. After all you've been bottling this up since you found out, too disappointed to even tell any of your friends or family.

Otto appears taken aback, to say the least. He even looks like he's at a loss for words; that's a first. You know he could kill you where you stand in the blink of an eye, but in that moment you don’t even care. You’ve been trying so hard for so long to get on your feet, to do things for yourself and get away from the past. You moved across the country, you left everything behind, you got a damn dog. It seems like every time you manage to take a step forward in life, you’re knocked flat on your ass, apparently literally sometimes. It isn’t fair. Things don’t come easily to you, you’ve always had to work for them. You aren’t wealthy, you aren’t a supergenius, you’re just… you. The job at Oscorp was good money and you really felt like you were getting your shit together for a while.

“They’re not who you think they are,” he says finally, so calmly, with such carefulness about his words, that you sniffle pathetically and look up at him. He doesn’t look nearly as pleased with himself as you thought he might. And here you’ve been, under the impression that he gets off on hurting people. “Oscorp. I’m not… I’m not just doing this for me. You have to understand that.”

The schematics are furled up and tucked away. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Maybe it’s just the tears that blur your vision, but you swear you see a softness there before they’re hidden away again by his glasses.

He lingers at the window.

“I hope you’ll reconsider.” And then he was making his exit, even taking care to gently close the window on the way out. But he raps on the glass with his knuckles from where he stands on the fire escape and you know the look of confusion on your tear-streaked face speaks for itself. Otto points to the latches on the window. ‘Lock it.’ He mouths before he’s gone, presumably to wreak havoc and harass other unsuspecting young women that don’t want anything to do with him.

You thought everything had come together- but the more sense you make of it, the less you seem sure of the bigger picture. You aren't even sure exactly what he wanted you to do.

You’re left with an endless bounty of questions, and not enough answers to satisfy any of them.

#otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #fanfiction #otto octavius #doc ock

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