#AND HE SAID THIS SHIT AFTER A YEAR OF KNOWING BUCK. A YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!! HES INSANE

[p4nishers]

why cant gay ppl just say "i love you" tf is "there's nobody in this world i trust with my son more than you" ???

[raythekiller]

I love the masky nsfw alphabet It riled up my imagination.. soo can i request for a hoodie one?? Thank youu

🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ NSFW ALPHABET ❛ ✧

Featuring: Hoodie/Brian

# Notes: its that time of the year again where i make 1 post and disappear for the next seven months <3 also DAYUM new post format?? (also also theres a new toby drawing on the way stay tuned)

A - AFTERCARE

Surprisingly soft. Wants to hold you close and maybe take a shower together. Don't get things twisted though - it's so he can keep feeling your body against his instead of to comfort you. Call it possessiveness or an ego stroke, maybe.

B - BODY PART

Thighs man through and through. Thigh highs drive him up-the-wall insane. Will also just absentmindedly knead them if you're sitting next to him, especially if you're wearing shorts or a skirt/dress.

C - CUM

Oh he likes it messy. Just enjoys having his cum on you in general - backshots, face, dripping from you after he came inside, you name it.

D - DIRTY SECRET

None. He has no shame and is very open about what he likes.

E - EXPERIENCE

Not as much as you might expect, given his demeanour. Don't get me wrong, it's still a lot, but he makes it seem like he worked as a pornstar for a few years with sheer cockiness.

F - FAVORITE POSITION

If you ask him, he'll say "all of them". But if you put a gun to his head and tell him to choose, he'll settle for doggy. Just loves grabbing your hips and ass while he's pounding into you.

G - GOOFY

He doesn't exactly make jokes, but his teasing might be a bit funny at times. He doesn't mind making things more silly or lighthearted as long as you still cum at the end of it.

H - HAIR

Usually clean-shaven, but he might get a bit lazy with it occasionally. Always at least well trimmed though.

I - INTIMACY

Usually adapts to what you like best. If you just want to get your brains fucked out and keep romance out of it, he'll happily do it. If you like something more tender with lots of "I love you"s, he doesn't complain about it either.

J - JACK OFF

A lot. This guy has crazy stamina (we'll talk about that later), I'd say maybe five times per week or so.

K - KINK

A lot but mainly: CORRUPTION!! I've said it before and I'll say it again he wants to bring the worst out of you. If you're a virgin, he wants go be your first. If you're not, he wants to see just how wild things can get when he pushes you a little.

L - LOCATION

Literally anywhere. He is a fan of semi-public sex, though. In the woods, living room of the manor when (you think) there's no one else home, in a busted alleyway, you name it.

M - MOTIVATION

Oh it's very easy to turn him on. Here's a huge one though: when you take iniciative. He's used to being the one starting shit. When YOU do it, though? When you make it clear you want him to wreck you? Fucking hot.

N - NO

Very short but obvious list: anything to do with piss, shit or vomit. Other than that, I think he's pretty open. Not even averse to being submissive every now and then.

O - ORAL

HELL YEAH BABY! Giving, receiving, whatever, he doesn't care. His mouth isn't just good for talking shit — he knows how to use that tongue. When he's getting head, though? He looks so pretty — head thrown back, moaning and whimpering with a grin on his face. Might buck his hips into your mouth for giggles (and because you sound hot choking on him).

P - PACE

Again, he'll go for whatever gets you off. If you like it rough and fast, he's in. If you prefer slow and sensual, that's also hot.

Q - QUICKIE

Biggest quickie fan in the manor. He just can't help himself most of the time and he doesn't really try to, either. If his horny, you best bet he knows how to get you horny as well and things just go from there.

R - RISK

Loves experimenting and finding new ways to make you moan. Doesn't mind getting a bit freakier every now and then.

S - STAMINA

Jesus christ what are they feeding this man. Y'know when guys are like "I'm gonna fuck you all night long" and stop after two rounds max? This motherfucker is serious about it.

T - TOYS

I don't think he'd go out of his way to buy them, but if you already have them you best believe he's using it to his advantage. Big fan of vibrators.

U - UNFAIR

This guy is MEAN. He doesn't make you wait for too long before fucking you but just those few minutes feel like an eternity with the atrocities he's whispering in your ear.

V - VOLUME

LOUD. He moans, groans, whines, whimpers, you name it. Not ashamed to make some noise and LOVES if you're loud as well.

W - WILD CARD

Likes having his hair pulled— WHO SAID THAT???

X - X-RAY

7.4 inches, cut. Not too thick, just the right girth.

Y - YEARNING

Can't go like, a week without having sex or at least jacking off. Homeboy has a lot of steam he needs to let out.

Z - ZZZ

Only god knows how he doesn't pass out immediately after. Chances are you'll fall asleep before him.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | March 25th-31st 2024

Happy late Easter if you celebrate! I had four days off soooooo as you can see, this is a long one 😆 (honestly feels like I spent the entire fucking day working on this!!)

OMG those stills last week? That episode synopsis? can't WAIT for 7x04 !!!!

(There's a couple of people not tagged, if you know them, please tag the min the comments!)

Complete

🔥 A Million Pretty Pieces by ShesLikeTexas / @shesliketexas-17 (Sentinel/Guide AU, Canon Divergent, SEAL!Buck | 251K | Teen): After enduring countless procedures to save his older brother, Evan Buckley is only four-years-old when he manifests as the youngest Guide in human history. The Global-Sentinel-Guide-Association brings one of their finest mentors, Bobby Nash, out of retirement to help train the young Guide.

When You Gimme Those Ocean Eyes by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Post-Tsunami, Mermaid!Buck | 5K | General): The loft was dark and stilted like Buck hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights when he got home but the air was thick with moisture. Maddie heard the shower first and then the pitiful, pained whimper next. “Buck!” Maddie moved in through the loft to the bathroom and pushed open the door. She was met with a face of trapped steam that seeped into her skin and made her lungs release a tension she didn’t know she’d been holding. But that tension returned tenfold as she flipped on the light. Buck stared up at her, tired and scared, from where he was slumped in the corner of his shower. (Part 1 of 🔥Mermaid AU)

Fallin’ Into Your Ocean Eyes by Princessfbi / @princessfbi (Mermaid!Buck, Getting Together | 21K | Mature): “Do you trust me?” Buck asked, as he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s. “You know I do.” “Good,” Buck said, pecking him on his lips again before he pulled away and kicked off his boots. “I need you to hold my pants.” Buck hooked his thumbs in the waistline of his jeans and pushed them down in a blink of an eye. If Eddie’s face could get any redder, it would, but the heat of his gaze had Buck shoving down a shiver that raced up his spine. He handed Eddie his jeans and pulled off his shirt. “This is weird,” Eddie mumbled as Buck handed his clothes to him. “I hope you realize this is weird.” (Part 2 of 🔥Mermaid AU)

A Diamond Mind and Those Ocean Eyes by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Mermaid!Buck | 35K | Teen): “Buck…” Eddie wheezed, his eyes rolling in his head. Maddie snapped her gaze down to look at him and almost burst into tears at the sight. Eddie’s sun kissed skin was deathly pale, with blue tinging his lips and dark circles under his eyes. Buck never would’ve left him. Not like this. “Eddie!” Maddie said, shaking him herself. “Where’s Buck?” Eddie wheezed and said, “… boat.” Then Eddie stopped breathing and Chimney started CPR. (Part 3 of 🔥Mermaid AU)

Work It Like The Rent's Due by Loverlylo/ @theloverlylo (Stripper!Buck | 4K | Teen): Look, the cost of living in Los Angeles is insane, and public servants make nothing. Lacking savings, an inheritance, or a spouse with a high-earning job, Buck turns to a side gig to help pay is rent. And what side gig is perfect for a gorgeous man with no shame? If you guess stripping, you win.

the music moves me (right onto your lap) by KaztielCS118 (Stripper!Eddie | 4K | Mature): Eddie used to be a strip dancer, he shows Buck just how good he is.

🔥 I want to be your fantasy (maybe you could be mine) by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Bachelor Party | 7K | Explicit): Eddie stopped just outside the doors, a hand on Buck's arm to stop him from going inside. “Buck I have to tell you something and you’re not allowed to say shit about it okay?” “Of-of course,” Buck was a little worried at how serious Eddie was being, but it probably wasn't anything that bad if he was going to tell Buck something and then go into a pole dancing class. “I’m going to be really good at this class,” Eddie said, his voice low. “Because one of my jobs before moving to L.A. was stripping. You’re the first person who didn’t work at the club or go to the club to know that and I’d prefer if it stayed that way.”

pauses, then says by vstars (S7E4 Speculation | 1K | Teen): or, Eddie checks up on Buck after an accident at the basketball court

Wrong Side of Heaven by TearsThisSideofHeaven (MCU AU, Post-Snap | 8K | Mature): In the moment, Buck wonders if this is the end of the world. Later, he’ll find himself wishing it had been. Or: the post-Thanos 9-1-1 AU that's been rattling around in the author's brain for literally years.

too tired to keep lying by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (S7E6 Spec, Madney Wedding | 1K | Teen): “But someone has to tell everyone that there’s—” Buck’s voice cracks. A shudder wracks him and Eddie’s hold tightens. “—that there’s not going to be a wedding today.” “There could be.” “What?” Eddie swallows hard, pulling back enough that his eyes can meet Buck’s. “There could still be a wedding today.”

do you want to know a secret by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (S7, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck overworks himself and his family worries. When Eddie overhears a conversation between Maddie and Chimney, he learns he might just have caused Buck’s change in behavior. The good news is – there’s something he can do about it.

🔥 If I Never Hear Your Voice Again by actualalligator/ @actualalligator (Canon Divergent, Post-S3E1 Kids Today, Online Friendship | 21K | Mature): After the pulmonary embolism, Buck starts to experience nerve pain and intermittent weakness in his leg. He undergoes another surgery, but when it does not help, he is medically retired from the LAFD. Chimney gets him a video game so they can play it together, but one night it leads him right to Eddie, a single dad from Texas, desperate to make ends meet. They strike up a friendship that eventually leads to more while they work through depression, a move, some new jobs, and a lot of other life stuff.

The One Where The 118 Play "Never Have I Ever" & Chaos Ensues. by dylaesthetics (S7, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Or playing Never Have I Ever during a slow shift goes as well as you can probably expect.

Warmth of your Gratitude and Appreciation by Wildgirl93/ @wildlife4life (S7E3 Coda | 1K | Not Rated): Buck is coming down from the rush of the cruise rescue and Eddie takes him home.

Buck the Bachelor by terranobis (S7, Bachelor!Buck | 41K | Not Rated): When an emergency at the Bachelor mansion leads to Buck becoming the Bachelor, Buck and Eddie begin to realize that there might be more to their friendship than they thought.

you've ruined my life (by not being mine) by ummrys (S7E4 Spec | 2K | Teen): Or, Buck gets a little (a lot) jealous of Eddie's blossoming friendship with Tommy Kinard, and makes some bad decisions about it.

🔥 Racing with the Brakes Cut by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Fast&Furious AU | 61K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz is offered an undercover job by the LAPD, he takes it so the money will take care of his son. But his mission to infiltrate The 118, a group of street racers suspected of hijacking trucks and selling the goods on the black market, goes awry when he meets Evan Buckley. The more time Eddie spends with Buck and his family, partnering with Buck to win the dangerous Race Wars, the harder it is to remember why he's really there. As the police breathe down his neck, Eddie will have to choose exactly which side he's on, and where his loyalties lie.

of epiphanies by tawaifeddiediaz / @tawaifeddiediaz (Post-S7E3, FWB Buck/Tommy, Buddie Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Or, the one where Buck doesn’t know what to do about Tommy, but somehow, he finds the love of his life anyway.

oh i wonder who i'm looking for by ipretendtobesane/ @useramor (Post-S7E3, Buck/Tommy | 2K | Mature): after 7x03, buck and tommy go to a bar

if i died last night (it would haunt me forever) by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (Post-S7E3, Love Confessions | <1K | Teen): Or, the one where Buck can't go another night without telling Eddie how he feels.

i love you if you even care by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (S7E4 Spec | 3K | Mature): 7x04 speculation where Buck gets jealous of Tommy, but hits Eddie with the basketball instead.

🔥 because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 75K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.

a matching pair (we go together) by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (Getting Together | 1K | Teen): Or, the one where Eddie makes the team friendship bracelets.

be there on the next train by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Getting Together | 1K | Teen): or, painkillers, pet names, and other sure-fire ways to finally tell your best friend you’re in love with him

slowly getting sober from the taste of your skin by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (S7, Getting Together | 11K | Teen): Or, the one where Eddie gets drunk and pines. Includes Maddie & Eddie friendship, lots of miscommunication, and a happy fluffy ending. 

Left Unsaid by C_M2 (Post-Tsunami | 33K | Mature): The discovery of a small facebook group full of tsunami survivors rocks station 118.

it’s just the thought of you and what I leave behind by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Alternate S7E3 | 6K | Teen): As the cruise ship starts to sink, Bobby and Athena aren’t the only ones in desperate need of saving. The 118 goes on a high-risk mission and a close call brings Buck and Eddie together. 

🔥 miracles under your sighs and moans by napricot (PWP, Post-S6, Sex Pollen | 21K | Explicit): When Eddie gets exposed to an experimental aphrodisiac on a call, he realizes there’s only one person he trusts to help him get through it: Buck.

chafe the skin (you know i like it rough) by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Getting Together | 6K | Explicit): Buck had a problem. A very, very big problem. Eddie hadn’t shaved in two days.

Love's No Pressure by kittyeddie (PWP, Established Buddie | 7K | Explicit): 5 times Buck and Eddie try to have sex but don't, and one time they finally get to

baby, can i hold you? by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S7E1, Hurt/Comfort | 3K | Teen): or, eddie panics. buck holds him.

WIP

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 13/? | 113K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 29/? | 19K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

29. 71. Lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other to the point of barely having strength enough to breathe

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 123/? | 379K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Podfic

🔥 Still Waters by MilenaDaniels [Podfic] (@milenadaniels) by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 (Post-S4E14: Survivors | 45-60 minutes | Explicit): As Eddie lays on the hot pavement bleeding out, his eyes locked on Buck’s bloody face, his hand reaching out towards him, what washes over him isn’t his hard-earned stillness nor is it shock. It’s clarity, edging slowly into focus from off-stage. And when he wakes up in the hospital bed and registers a soft, slim hand in his, he thinks, "no, that’s not it". Or, Five Ways Eddie's Body Feels Different After the Shooting

🔥 Nights are mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day by HMSLusitania [podfic](@hmslusitania) by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 (Camping Trip, Getting Together | 20-30 minutes | Not Rated): Coincidentally lacking children for a week, the firefam go camping together. Eddie would have a better time with it if he wasn't hiding a major secret.

🔥 What's Died Will Never Stay Dead by HMSLusitania [Podfic] (@hmslusitania) by Rhea314 (Rhea)/@rhea314 (The Old Guard AU, Bobby POV | 45-60 minutes | Teen): Bobby's family died in an apartment fire in St Paul, he was honest about that much. But it was in 1904, not 2014.

🔥 Which Witch (series) by HMSLusitania [Podfic] (@hmslusitania) by Rhea314 (Rhea) / @rhea314 (Witch!Eddie | 1-1.5 hours | Teen): It starts as a stupid conversation at the station. Chim, overly credulous, kicks them off with a quick, “Hey remember when we were jinxed because Probie said the q-word? Do you guys think there’s such a thing as actual magic?” In his defence, Eddie guesses, it really is a …q-word… shift and they don’t have anything better to do, everyone sprawled around on various pieces of furniture in the loft. Eddie had been playing a round of pool with Buck, but if they’re going to get into this conversation, he’s got to nip it in the bud. “Nope,” he says.

🔥 The Best Lie is a Truth (My Best Mask is My Face) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [podfic] (@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels) by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 (Post-S5, Fake Relationship | 4-5 hours | Explicit): The Buckleys are celebrating their 50th Anniversary, and Maddie and Buck are both expected to come. To take the heat off Maddie, Buck impulsively blurts out that he's seeing someone new. Obviously, there's only one solution: bring Eddie as his fake boyfriend, pretend to be in love with him, and survive the weekend with minimal bloodshed. No problem, except for the, uh. "Pretend" part. Oops.

🔥 right in front of your eyes by rainbow_nerds [podfic] (@rainbow-nerdss) by Rhea314 (Rhea) / @rhea314 (Fake Relationship | 1.5-2 hours | Teen): Buck offers to fake-date Eddie so Pepa will stop setting him up on dates.

🔥 Lifelines by hetrez [podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 (Canon Divergent, Tsunami | 2 hours | Teen): Buck said, "Look, I'm sorry I overheard that because it's personal, and you should be able to decide who gets to have that part of you." Eddie came out of his hunch a little and looked him in the eyes, and Buck felt a zing of giddy accomplishment. It maybe made him stupid. "But to be honest, I'm really flattered that Pepa thought a punk like me could get a guy like you." Eddie's eyes went huge, and under the sodium lights Buck could see his ears turning red. Just two strangers hanging out after a tsunami, talking about being in the closet.

🔥 Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania [Podfic] (@hmslusitania) by Rhea314 (Rhea) / @rhea314 (Post-Lawsuit, Time Loop | 2.5-3 hours | Mature): “You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.

[roosterforme]

Hello, I Love You | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.

Warnings: Pure fluff, adult banter, some cursing

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Love Is In The Air playlist challenge! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

Bradley strolled into the Hard Deck, got a beer from Jimmy, and then made his way to the pool table to join his friends. 

"What's up?" he asked Phoenix when she eyed him a little nervously.

"Now, don't get mad, okay?" She set her pool cue down and patted his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Bradley asked, frozen with his beer halfway to his lips. 

Phoenix smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt across his chest and shoulders, and then she took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "Yeah, okay, should be fine," she muttered, examining his appearance. 

"Nat, seriously, what did you do?"

"Well.... I signed you up for speed dating," she informed him, wincing before he even responded.

"No," he said, adamantly shaking his head. "Nope." Bradley sipped his beer and turned to grab some darts.

"And it starts in thirty minutes," Phoenix added, her eyes going wide as Bradley glared at her.

"Natasha, I'm not going."

"But you're lonely! And it's Valentine's Day! You need a girl!"

Bradley scoffed. "I'm not lonely. I'm... picky."

"Too picky, Rooster. Just go to the speed dating thing, please? I already spent twenty bucks to sign you up," she pleaded. "It comes with a free drink!"

Bradley chuckled. "You think I'll find a girl there? You're insane, Nat. It's going to be the weirdest assortment of people under the San Diego sun. Crazy people who collect cats and probably a bunch of basement dwellers."

But as he watched his friend's face fall, he felt a little guilty. "I just thought you might have fun, you know, putting yourself out there. It's been a year since you dated anyone," she said softly. 

Bradley took a sip of his beer and ran his hand over his face. "Fine. I'll go, but only to prove to you that I'm right and you're wrong."

He watched her jump up and down a few times and clap her hands. "Yes! It's at the Surfside Tavern, and if you leave now, you'll arrive just in time," she said, taking his beer from his hand and pushing him toward the door. "Text me later and let me know how it goes... unless you know, you're busy getting hot with a basement dweller."

Bradley just rolled his eyes and headed toward the Bronco. 

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

"Let me get you signed in! What's your name?" asked a young man with Connor on his name tag. He was seated at a small table at the front of the bar, and now Bradley was getting a little nervous. There were a lot of people here tonight.

"Bradley Bradshaw," he replied, taking a name tag sticker from Connor. 

"Just grab your drink at the bar and head on back to the area where the tables are set up. I'll get everyone started soon," said Connor with a smile. 

Bradley took a deep breath, half tempted to bail, but then he thought it would be worthwhile to get his free drink since Nat stole his other one. He got a beer from the bartender and then turned toward the back of the room, where there were a bunch of guys were wearing suits. 

"Shit," he muttered, glancing down at his own jeans and bright shirt. 

When he looked up, he quickly braced himself as you accidentally bumped into him, the drink in your martini glass sloshing precariously close to the rim. "Sorry!" you gasped, looking up at him. 

He steadied you, wrapping on big hand around your waist as you regained your balance. And Bradley instantly knew there was no chance he would be bailing early tonight. 

"Thanks," you whispered, tapping your martini glass to his beer bottle with a grin.

You took a slow step away from him as Bradley whispered, "Damn." You looked like a real treat, with bright eyes and kind of a shy smile. And as you walked toward all of the guys in suits, you turned to smile back at him over your shoulder.

"Okay, let's get started!" Connor announced, pulling your attention away from Bradley and toward him. "Let's have the ladies each take a seat at one of the tables, and the guys will rotate around the room. You'll have five minutes to get to know each person, and then I'll tell you to switch. You can grab a notepad and a pencil if you want to keep track of names. Let's go!"

Bradley watched you take a seat and cross your legs, subtly glancing at him again. He was pulled toward your table like a magnet, barely able to control himself. But it looked like he wasn't the only one. 

"Fucking suits," he groaned when another guy sat down across from you. Bradley doubled back and chose a table with someone else, practically tripping since he could barely look away. 

"Hi! I'm Bridget!" said the bubbly woman now seated across from him. 

"I'm Bradley," he replied with a smile, trying to discreetly count how many tables away you were sitting. 

"Oh my God! We both have B names! That's insane!" Bridget gushed.

Bradley laughed nervously. "Both are BR names, actually," he muttered. Then he watched her scribble down his name with KEEPER next to it. 

Oh shit. He had to endure five minutes of Bridget listing off potential names for their theoretical future children. Bruce, Brandy, Bryce, Brinley, Brooke and Brynn were apparently all viable options, and when Connor announced that five minutes was up, Bradley launched out of his seat. 

He tried to hustle over to your table, but Connor was on him right away. "We're rotating in order. Remember?" 

Bradley looked over to where you were sitting, shaking hands with your second "date". But you were looking at Bradley and smiling. It looked like you were trying not to laugh. 

Bradley glared down at Connor, towering over him. "Come on, man. See that one over there? I wanna talk to her." 

But Connor was not deterred, and rather showed Bradley to his next table with Angie. "What do you do for a living?" she asked, smiling at him across the table.

"I'm a Naval aviator," he replied, trying to get a peek of you talking with Mr. Suit. 

"Oh," Angie replied, and her smile turned into a frown. "I'm in the Army." Bradley watched her jot down his name and write NO next to it. Then she took out her phone and started to play Candy Crush. 

Once again, when it was time to switch tables, Bradley jumped up and rushed toward yours. 

"Sir, we've been over this before," Connor called after him, but Bradley made his way to where you were sitting with a different guy who was wearing a full-blown tuxedo. 

"Hi," Bradley said, reaching out to shake your hand. He checked your name tag this time; he just fucking knew you'd have a pretty name. And your hand was so small and soft, he held onto it for a moment. 

You looked up at him, and an adorable giggle escaped your lips before you also said, "Hi."

"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm coming up in two more tables," he told you very seriously. 

You nodded your head and pressed your lips together to try to stifle your smile. "Yeah, I noticed that when you tried to knock several people over a few minutes ago."

Bradley smiled at you, already loving your sense of humor.

"Don't write down anything flattering about him, okay?" Bradley nodded toward the guy in the tux who just scowled in response. 

Your shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I'll see what I can do."

"Sir!" Connor scolded. "This is not your table!"

"Yes, Connor, I know," Bradley grumbled, heading over to sit with Michelle.

Michelle eyed him cautiously. "I take it you're only interested in her?" she asked, gesturing toward your table.

Bradley shrugged. "Sorry, Michelle."

She shrugged too. "That's okay. I really liked Simon. Want to hear about the novel I'm writing?"

Bradley was enthralled after five minutes of Michelle explaining the intricate plot of the detective thriller she was working on. "Damn it, Michelle. I need to know how it ends."

She smiled and jotted down his email address. "I'll put you on my mailing list."

Finally Bradley was seated at the table next to yours, just a few feet away from you. "Hi," he said again, and he could tell he must have the dumbest look on his face. 

He watched your lips curl into the most radiant smile. "Hi, Bradley." God, he felt light headed as soon as you said his name. 

"I'll be there soon," he promised, and you blushed a little bit as you turned toward another guy in a fucking suit.

Bradley turned toward Cara and asked, "Has every other guy been in a suit?"

She nodded. "One was in a tuxedo."

"Huh," he grunted, trying so hard not to focus on you while Cara asked him questions about himself. 

"Bradley, where do you work?"

He shook his head, "No... I'm originally from Virginia."

"That's not what I asked."

But Bradley couldn't help it. You were sipping your martini and re-crossing your legs. And the guy you were with sounded boring as hell.

"Are you even listening to me?" Cara asked, breaking his concentration 

"Oh, uh... sorry, no," he replied, smiling at you as you glanced at him.

"Rotate!" Connor called, and Bradley was practically shoving the suit guy out of his seat at your table. 

"Finally," he muttered, smirking as he sat down. Your cheeks were a little flushed as you spun your martini glass on the table by the stem. When your gaze slid up his chest and neck and landed on his face, he asked you, "You've gotta tell me, what are you doing here? You could get a date just walking around Target in your pajamas."

You laughed and bit your lip, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "I don't wear pajamas," you told him with a smirk of your own.

Bradley sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I rest my case."

"What about you, Bradley? You're cute. I like your mustache. And thank God you're not wearing a suit. You could probably get a date just by shoving the previous guy out of his seat and asking me."

He nodded his head and tried not to smile. You were so fun. And you were quick on the draw. "We'll get there, babe. But actually... my best friend made me come tonight. She thinks I'm too picky when it comes to women."

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you like?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips again and taking another sip.

"So far, I like you. A lot."

Your cheeks were even more flushed now, and Bradley wanted to talk to you all night long.

"What do you look for in a guy?" he asked, leaning his forearms on the table to get a little closer to you.

You leaned a bit closer as well as you told him, "I need someone who can make me laugh. It doesn't hurt if he's handsome. And I think mustaches just moved to the top of my nonnegotiable list."

Bradley licked his lips. "And what's your ideal first date, babe? I'm planning on making it very memorable for you; already hoping for a second."

You laughed again. "Padres game. Complete with beer and ballpark nachos."

"Seriously, why are you here?"

You nibbled on your lip for a beat before you said, "My sister made me come. She said she's so tired of listening to me complain that there are no cute, funny, single guys with mustaches who aren't afraid to wear a green and yellow Hawaiian print shirt in public."

Bradley's entire body was humming. "There's nothing about you that would turn me off, is there?" he asked, and his voice was raspier now. 

He watched you lick your lips and shake your head. "No. Unless you can't stand smart girls who like to be a little sassy when they aren't wearing any pajamas."

Bradley audibly groaned and you giggled. 

"Rotate!" Connor called, and everyone was up and moving around.

"Fuck, no. I'm not moving, Connor!" Bradley called over his shoulder. Your eyes were glittering with amusement, and Bradley was going to leave this bar with you if it killed him.

Connor walked over and sighed. "You've already had five minutes together."

"That's not long enough. Have you seen her, Connor?" Bradley asked, nodding at you. "Fifty bucks if you tack on another five minutes, my man," Bradley promised him, making you crack up across the table. 

Connor just muttered, "Before he wouldn't sit down, now he won't get up." 

Bradley felt you take his hand in yours, and his eyes were immediately on your face. "Let's get out of here, Bradley," you suggested. "Go to another bar? Or go for a walk?"

"Absolutely," he replied, hopping up and pulling you to your feet.

You led him through the bar, smiling at him over your shoulder as you laced your fingers through his, and Bradley could already tell you were his perfect match.

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

Natasha was still shooting some pool with the guys when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to read a text from Bradley.

Rooster Bradshaw: YOU WERE RIGHT.

"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and down again.

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

Thanks for reading! There are plenty of other love song themed Top Gun: Maverick stories available here!

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[rustedhearts]

but i love him to death (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve harrington is only known for one thing around this part of town: being a low-life piece of shit. but you love him, and there's no coming back from a love as bruised as this.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ main masterlist ✶ hunger

tags: insanely toxic relationship (these people should not be together!); mention of suicide; oral (m!receiving); talk of stab wounds and other cruelty; steve is deeply deeply troubled; depraved behavior honestly; reckless behavior; actually a whole lot of knives.

“white trash dick, but i love him to death. he’s so good to me, and to nobody else, so you can fuck yourself.”

—inbred, ethel cain

rural midwest. winter, 2007.

Steve Harrington knew what a cell looked like by the time he was twelve. How to handle a switchblade, how to gut a buck, how to step on another boy’s chest and hold a lighter to his cheek until he was squealing and whining like an infant. His first trip to juvie came the day after he turned twelve. The second came at fourteen. “That Harrington kid” could’ve been stamped across his headstone.

The big house came when he was eighteen. A six month sentence spent like a small town prince in iron bars. He reappeared with a cross tattoo on his left knuckle. God’s justice, he’d say. As if God would ever grant such power to a boy the likes of him.

The second stint at twenty-one was nine months and a year probation. The inked serpent slithering the inside of his forearm served as another parting gift. By the time you came to know him at twenty-four, he was a blackened, scarred version of the boy he used to be. You never knew that bare-skinned, freckled, lanky kid his mama talked about.

You only ever knew the man with the buzzed head, and a fistful of justice.

Twenty years old and still clinging to girlhood naivety, you walked into his world thinking it would be a short trip. You thought the date at the diner with an apple pie dessert and a kiss against the truck bed would be just another diary entry. Hearts around his name and a lipstick kiss across lined paper, you wound your diary up, tucked it under your head, and waited for his call the next day.

But by the time you were twenty-two, you had bookshelves full of diaries, all branded with Steve’s name.

September 2005

Steve picked me up in his truck. It’s old and beat up. I imagined it might’ve been a nice green color back in the day, like the color of the pine trees in his backyard near the property line. He held my hand the whole way to the diner. He’s so warm and rough. You can tell he’s not like those other boys I went to high school with, all soft and lotioned and cushioned with office life. He’s a working man. He’s not afraid to get dirty.

I guess I slammed the door when we were getting out. He said: “hey, don’t slam the truck.” I thought he was joking. But he just stared at me. He kinda does that a lot. Under a set of furrowed brows, eyes all serpent like. Matches his tattoo. Something about that look makes my insides skitter around. I know it’s wrong to get a thrill out of being afraid, but I think I do.

I don’t really care that he’s been to jail. I don’t care about the talk that follows him like a fly to shit. I only care about the way he kissed me tonight. Like being devoured whole. The way he holds me makes me feel so small.

God, I think I love him.

✶ ✶

April 2006

All he ever does is yell these days. At me, at his crew, at anybody that looks his way. It’s blown past cranky and stumbled straight into crazy. Mama says she doesn’t know what I see in a “piece of shit” like him. She said if Daddy were around to see that “low life white trash I walk around with” that he’d blow his head off all over again. I think he’s turning in his grave just hearing her say that kind of stuff.

And I do hate the way Steve gets mad like that. How he yells at me for slamming the truck even when I don’t, and how he pulls me a little too hard and fucks a little too mean. But he loves me. And I love him. More than I’ve ever loved anybody. We’re getting a place together this summer. Nobody’s ever asked me to move in with them before. Hell, nobody’s ever asked me to be their girlfriend before Steve.

But Steve wants me. He wants me to be his and all his and nothing more. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Those other people just don’t know him like I do. They don’t know how sweet he can be. How on Thursday nights he brings me sunflowers. How on Fridays we rent a movie and order takeout, and he kisses me and kisses me until he’s tired. He’d do anything for me.

✶ ✶

December 2006

If Steve keeps up like this, he’ll go right back to jail. My mama said it, the sheriff said it, even Steve’s fucked up daddy said it, and that man hasn’t had a single brain cell to fry sunny-side up and eat for breakfast since Desert Storm. But anyone can tell Steve is heading down a dark road again.

He loses wads of cash, only to show up with a heap more a few days later. Things are going missing. He comes home late. Sometimes I swear his hands smell like the burn of gunfire. I try not to get too curious because I know he hates when I pry, but I can’t help it.

I just hope whatever he’s doing, he doesn’t get in over his head.

✶ ✶

August 2007

Steve and I had a terrible fight. I think that’s all we do these days. Fight and break things and scream at each other until I feel like I can’t even breathe. Sometimes I swear he’s gonna pop a vein. Sometimes I wish he would, just to watch him bleed all over the fucking house. Sometimes I hate him so much I think about killing him with my bare hands, and sometimes he says he hates me so much he wants to do the same.

But then he comes back from wherever he runs off to, softer and quieter and soaked in Menthol smoke. And he kisses me. So sweetly, like how he did outside the diner on our first date when his lips tasted like brown sugar apple and pie crust. And he traces my body with his mouth and those rough, hot-plate hands, and I feel like nothing bad has ever happened to us. Like we didn’t just smash the kitchen up, and he didn’t just break my favorite vase. Like he didn’t tell he me he fucking hated me and wished I was dead, and I didn’t just tell him he was a no good son of a bitch.

I know this can’t be good. But I love him.

✶ ✶

When winter came, the cops were knocking almost every weekend. Huffing and rolling their eyes about another noise complaint, a call for a welfare check, or more “domestic disturbance” calls. Steve would shove the door open and roll his eyes, motioning toward the familiar-faced officers leaning in the doorway scoping out the mess.

“It’s for you again, sweetheart. Wasting everyone’s time.”

And you sent them off with a promise of wellness, assuring the officers that knew all too well the kind of man “that Harrington kid” was, that you were perfectly happy.

“I didn’t call them, Steve,” you muttered, following the stomp of Steve’s work boots toward the bedroom.

He flopped down on the end of the bed, reaching for the muddied laces. “Yeah, whatever.”

The room was freezing. You only used the heat when absolutely necessary—nose about to fall off necessary. But right now, you could manage through the frigidity with one of Steve’s old flannel coats and a sweater, feet bundled in thick wool socks. You gazed down at them as you leaned in the doorway, arms crossed tight to capture heat. Steve’s huffed breaths shuddered white phantoms against the old bed quilt, colors faded and torn from time. It belonged to your grandmother.

The house you shared with Steve, tiny and rundown and something your mother pursed her lips at when she came around, sat on the edge of town. The highway was a shout away. Sometimes you hated the sound of cars whooshing and semis blaring. But when the house grew lonely on long, cold nights without Steve—the noise was all you had.

“C’mon,” you whispered, fiddling with the frayed cuff on your wrist. “Let’s just go for a drive. Clear our heads. Like we used to, you know?”

Steve set his boot on the floor, shoulders hunched over his lap. He steadied one hand on his thigh, inhaling sharply. You peeked up to watch him stare off at the wood paneled wall, fixing on the cross above your shared bed. You glanced at the matching one scrawled on his fist in black ink. Shuffling a little closer, you watched his throat bob with a steadying swallow. Your finger reached out to touch it, running down the blue vein throbbing through the side of his neck. His skin was so warm. You brushed your other hand over his head, a little sweaty from its confines in a black beanie all day. But you loved the feel of the short, wiry hair fibers against your nails. The buzzing sound it made when you scratched.

“C’mon, Steve.” You kissed his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

You slid to your knees when you got to his throat, nose slipping through the grooves, feeling every breath he swallowed. Inhaling a highway cigarette, a whip of cold air and how it sharpened his skin, a spritz of cologne, a hint of gasoline. Hands gliding over the stiff canvas on his thighs, into the tough interior of his starched camo jacket. The outline of his pocketknife nudged your knuckles as they traveled to his ribs. You knew there was another tucked somewhere in his boot, one more in the pocket on his left calf.

The thought of his body's sharp silver blades had you trembling with hunger.

Steve eased back onto the mattress, eyes sinking closed. The utility pant zipper needed a little tug to come loose. His belt, sturdy leather recently purchased to replace one worn and cracked from wear, became a frustrating task to undo. But he didn't help you. He barely moved, stoically stagnant on the center of the quilt with shallow breaths.

Dipping your hand into the opening made by the release of his belt and zipper, your fingers closed around the length of his cock. He shuddered, a low groan echoed from his mouth with another puff of white cloud across stained ceiling tiles. His brows pinched together when you closed your lips over the pulsing head, welcoming in the warmth of his blood rushing all to one spot. The hot, wet cavern of your mouth had his hips shifting, shimmying against the bed until the springs yipped where iron rusted. They dug into your chest when you pressed into the bed, bookended by his thick, sturdy thighs against your shoulders—caging you in.

But you loved to be trapped. By his body, by his hands, by his kiss. Captured against him, knowing no other warmth but his, throbbing in your mouth.

Steve grunted and groaned like a boorish beast, fists curling and slamming into the bed as he swelled in your mouth and pushed your lips apart. And your hands roamed his thighs, nails scratching up the muddied canvas, clawing for more of him under the thin cotton of his t-shirt. The skin there was warm, too, and you sought every inch of it with greed in those wandering palms. You took special care of caressing the scar sliced across his right rib—a gash once nasty and bloody healed into something jagged and crude.

A parting gift from prison, a cellmate's final well wish.

With a sharp gasp, Steve spilled into your mouth. Hotness burst like a bad pipe, leaking down your throat and slipping past your lips onto his lap. When you had it all down, sliding its way to your stomach, you scooped your tongue over the wet spot on his crotch until it was gone.

And Steve lied there, heaving for air and squeezing his eyes closed, waiting for your final apology.

You tucked him back into his pants, zipper and belt secured, and climbed over his body on the bed. One kiss, two, three, pressed firmly over his eyes, his cheeks, his jaw. Every inch of him coated in your mouth and the aftertaste of his seed, teeth carefully scraped across his throat.

He pulled his eyes open when you were done, hazel boring into the heat of your face. His fingers smelled like the cold when they swept over your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You could feel every piece of skin breaking away from his hand, unmoisturized and overworked.

"I love you," he mused. He said it with the sugar coating of a piece of candy.

This was the sweetest he ever was.

"I love you, too."

"Let's go for that drive."

✶ ✶

He rolled the windows half down in the truck. You slipped a cigarette from the pack squished between the seats and lit the end off his, sucking in the taste of his tongue with one drag. You never knew what the true taste of Steve was like—only Menthols and whatever else lingered on him. Never him alone, never just Steve.

He rubbed warmth into your denim thigh with his wide palm, mindlessly caressing and squeezing through whitened roads. It hadn't stopped snowing for days. The roads, though recently plowed, were gritty with blue salt and rough to roll over. The truck's monstrous tires rumbled through town with the same difficulty as the little Honda chugging behind. Whatever song he had groaning on the radio sounded like gravel in a blender.

Glancing between your wind-blown cheeks and the blinding white world in the windshield, Steve silently tapped his ashes toward the snow and pulled drags with stiff lips. He licked them before tugging you by the collar of his coat, still buttoned around your body, until you toppled into his seat.

"Gimme a kiss."

You planted a sweet one on his mouth, inching away when you were done. But he kept you close, fist squeezed around the coat, chasing after your mouth with sharp teeth and tough lips. You giggled, careful of where you held your cigarette as you gave into his demands. He was driving blind now.

A few more pecks and licks and you tried again, nudging back toward your own seat near the frigid window. His hold was iron.

"Mm—Steve—"

The sound of a horn blaring had you rearing back, his grip loosened with surprise. Steve quickly veered back into the right lane, acutely missing the clip of another truck's bumper as it sped toward you in the oncoming traffic.

"Jesus, Steve!" you gasped, a cold sweat settling in your bones as the truck jostled on the snowy asphalt.

But Steve just laughed, carelessly reaching for his cigarette as it sizzled on the rubber mat near the brake pedal. You swiped your hand over your face, rubbing at the itch in your skin from the blood rush of near-death adrenaline.

"What the fuck?"

"What?" he muttered, mouthing at the butt for what was left of the cigarette.

Huffing, you squished yourself against the window and gazed out of it at the empty cornfield to your right. All it appeared as in the death season was barren land. Tufts of blanched grass poked through mounds of ice. A tire turned over on the side of the road where shattered glass exploded. The splintered wood fence of someone's farm abandoned by time. The water tower a few miles out, an unbelievable figure in the grey sky, stamped with the town name and bruised with decades of rust.

The cold that settled in your body numbed.

"What?" he pressed, tone tighter now. "You gonna fuckin' cry now? Jesus."

You swiped at your cheeks with your sleeve, ignoring the sting of broken skin where the weather broke it open. "Whatever, Steve."

His tongue clicked against the back of his teeth, withered cigarette chucked out the window. You shoved your fingers under your thighs to keep them breathing.

"I gotta make a stop."

You pressed your head to the window, ignoring the rattle of glass with every rotation of the tires and the icy chill it gave you. "Fine."

The stop was the gas station up the road from town. The first inkling of civilization in a stretch of void land, owned by a no good daddy that passed it down to a no good son. It was something of a tradition in this part of the country, you supposed. To keep businesses rotted with the cavities of crime in the family. To pass the sins of the father down to the son.

Steve whipped the truck into the lot and parked behind the ice chest, giving perfect view of the neon window and the liquor aisle.

"Can you roll the windows up while you go?" you murmured meekly, watching him reach for the ignition.

He rolled his eyes, but cranked his side up without word. He leaned over your lap to do yours, breath coated in Menthols and rage. He didn't kiss you before he pulled away, and you tried not to let the sting settle for too long.

"Stay here," he barked, the truck rocking momentarily when he stepped down.

He slammed the door, effectively trapping what semblance of heat you could manage with your own breath inside and giving you some sort of relief. Short-lived relief, of course.

Steve's hand disappeared into his camo jacket as he yanked the door open, only to come away with a blade. You straightened in the passenger seat, every nerve ending and vein boiling in anticipation for the first scream. They came, however, in muffled shouts. Shattering, smashing, the familiar sharp crack of bone on bone. You hunched your shoulders close to your ears and shut your eyes, holding your breath in your throat.

The world always stopped when Steve got in a knife fight.

It came rushing back in bleached colors and white sounds when the truck teetered violently. Steve flopped into the driver's seat, slamming the truck door with a cool ease. Peeking your eyes open, you gauged the extremity of the assault by the state of his knuckles. Swollen indigo where flesh split apart and cried red across the steering wheel. Shaking a little as they swept his hat off his head, revealing pink ears and a flushed neck. Steve wiped at his face and cleaned away the sweat.

You watched him sigh and shove the keys into the ignition, shuffling in his seat to get comfortable for the ride back. In a matter of minutes, sirens would start wailing. And Steve's wallet would sit a little thicker on the nightstand nonetheless, waiting for his return.

"Let's go home," he said, passing you a tight grin.

He kept the windows rolled up, and let them fog with the whir of heat from uncleaned vents.

These little affections, you took as I love you's.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

breathe friend you know tommy is bones in s8, he's not bucks endgame the reliable leaker has literally been clear about that. don't believe anything that psychopath on twitter says, she's literally insane.

oh trust me i don’t believe anything she says lmao

and i know the leaker said that about tommy but tbh that dont mean shit about whether or not they are actually going to fix any of the fuckery they pulled in s7

just because they are allegedly giving tommy the boot doesn’t mean they’re going to actually get their shit together and stop ship baiting us; so like i said until they actually start to give us any indication that they’re going to stop mistreating poc characters for cheap drama and that storylines are actually going to be thought out beforehand rather than thrown together because “ehh, this is good enough” i’m not going to be wasting my time. these shows are meant for entertainment. if i am not being entertained by what’s being done, why am i going to waste my energy on it?

i dont say this to sound snippy or rude, anon, and it is NOT directed at you specifically (and i really hope it doesn’t come across that way i am just bad at emoting through screens 😭😭), i promise, but sometimes it feels like people who try to “talk me off the ledge” in these anonymous asks don’t really look at what i’m actually saying and they jump to the conclusion that i’m just making shit up to panic about, but the fact of the matter is that everything i talked about in that post is something that could feasibly happen… all of buck’s love interests up to this point have not been narratively satisfying; developed or not. so even if tommy does end up going like the leaker said (again not getting my hopes up because things change at the drop of a hat in this business) that doesn’t mean they will actually follow through with queer eddie or that any other potential love interest for buck will be in any way narratively satisfying. i’m not saying i’m closing on buddie, because i will love them and ship them together when my body is six feet under, but after the burning dumpster that was s7 post the cruise ship arc, i don’t have the faith in tim that i had before.

at the end of the day, yes abc is a more accepting and inclusive studio, but it is still that: a studio. a corporation. a money maker. they don’t actually give a fuck about the fans. i have seen time and time again that these shows do this cat and mouse shit with a queer ship and then never follow through, even if one of the characters involved does end up being confirmed queer. maybe it was a little harsh to say that tim is only interested in money, but after how little thought and care he put into last season it’s hard not to feel like he actually cares about the fans who have stuck with this show since the beginning.

i’ve mentioned before that i have stuck with this show for seven years. i have shipped buddie since s2. i witnessed the s4 buildup and subsequent letdown in s5 and 6. I know that was not tim’s fault specifically, that KR and Fox both fucked the show over

but that does not mean that tim won’t also change his mind— we saw evidence of that last minute with all the rewrites that were happening post mid season hiatus with s7. he found out he’s getting another season so he changed the plot of 7b, and if they get a season 9, all the more reason to keep dragging the buddie bait hype along with now true intentions to follow through?

i reslly really reallly wanted to trust tim again especially after the potential he had with the shooting arc in s4, but sometimes it feels like he himself has closed on buddie since then unless it’s done as a last-ditch effort to save the show… again, i’m not saying i think bt is going to be endgame, but just because they aren’t endgame doesn’t mean buddie is and that is what pisses me off. that we will have been waiting for nearly a decade for this ship to go canon, we will have gone through so much hate and vitriol from the bt stans, we have been teased and built up time and time again (even in s7), we have been bait and switched with no satisfactory outcome, and we have been laughed at the entire time, and there is a possibility that none of it will actually pay off, all because some white man gets to call the shots and he’s shown that all he cares about is melodrama and trolling people online to stir up shit.

anyway, i didn’t mean to hijack this post, anon, but i wnated to further expound upon what exactly my point was in my original post, which was not that i believed Bree’s delusions or that the helicopter pilot is buck’s endgame, but that i won’t trust tim to actually go through with anything promising until i start to see actual concrete irrefutable evidence of it.

[nashidakyouko]

Moving Forward ~ Resident Alien ~ D'asta

Also on Ao3.

Ship: Asta Twelvetrees and D'arcy Bloom

Summary: Asta does not see a spaceship the night she leaves Jimmy, but instead runs into D'arcy and their relationship begins to change

// Domestic abuse warning because of Jimmy // T // MULTICHAPTER. This chapter word count: ~1275

AN: Aliens probably exist somewhere but are not involved in this fic. -

Break Away

That last black eye was the end of it. For real this time. Asta knew that Jimmy would wait, assuming she'd be back. Expecting her to fall back into his arms as soon as he cried wolf about how very sorry he was and it wouldn't happen again. Screw that. Asta had put up with it for many years too long.

Tears flowing down her face, she slipped on the thick ice in front of their—no, his—house. It took all she had to snap back up and dash to her car before Jimmy could catch up. She would escape. She threw herself into the driver's seat, speeding away as Jimmy shouted about how she'd be back—and if she was lucky, he'd still take her.

Some luck.

The night was as dark and murky as her mood. Not a light shone in the sky as she sped off to god knows where. Her cut lip throbbed. A gnarly gouge on her cheek screamed for relief that wouldn't come easy. A few ribs felt like they were being stomped on. Her eye was swelling up, too. Jimmy had been vicious.

The image of a buck permeated her mind. Protection. Protection had to exist somewhere. Dan would take her in, no question. But Asta felt guilty bringing her shit to him again. The guilt of turning her back on him and her people as a teenager still gnawed at her. And all in favor of her abusive husband.

But where else was she supposed to go, anyway?

As she neared the town, she sped so recklessly that she had to screech to a halt when a woman staggered halfway in front of the shoddy little car. An insane action. Before Asta could even wonder who could be that stupid, her eyes met with D'arcy's in the flickering light of an old streetlamp. Asta huffed at her friend's drunken behavior. She begrudgingly pulled over and started to climb out of the car.

Of course, she barely cracked the door open before D'arcy was climbing in through the passenger window. Damn thing never would stay up, some mechanism long since broken. D'arcy grunted as she tried squeezing in. Her ridiculous effort eased some of Asta's tension. She pulled the driver's side door closed and helped drag D'arcy the rest of the way in.

Once she was in, D'arcy laid across the controls and put her head in Asta's lap, awkwardly twisting her neck to face her. Her feet were still halfway out the window. She put on one of her fake accents and said, “What is pretty lady like you doing in place like this? I was sure tonight was going to be a bore, then sweet thing like you shows up!”

Asta rolled her eyes, but there was no denying the smile creeping onto her lips. Before she could tease D'arcy back, however, the redhead's eyes caught on Asta's wounds and a feral snarl erupted from her. In a second, she was sitting upright and gently touching Asta near the bruises and cuts. She didn't touch directly for fear of increasing Asta's pain. Her eyes filled with tears. “What the fuck did Jimmy do to you this time? I swear to God, Asta, when I see him—“

Asta cut her off in a hurry. “I left him.”

Silence.

D'arcy gave her best friend an incredulous look. She'd heard this before, time and again. “I wish you really would... That dick never deserved to lay eyes on you, and you have to fucking know that.”

It was probable—if upsetting—that Asta wouldn't keep away for more than a few days. The pattern followed. Asta pulled away from D'arcy's fleeting touch and looked out to the road. It was such a cold night. No one else passed them by as Asta pondered how she could convince D'arcy she was serious this time. Nothing came to mind.

After a long silence, Asta sighed. “You're right.” A beat later, she surprised D'arcy by continuing, “He never deserved to lay eyes on me.” Asta locked eyes with D'arcy. “And I've stayed with him too long. I'm done.”

Their fingers met on the console, brushing past each other. A thrill shot up D'arcy's spine, and she wanted to scream at herself. Even if Asta left Jimmy for good, it didn't mean anything for D'arcy's fruitless crush she'd harbored forever. Plus, Asta needed a solid friend right now, not a pining loser. So D'arcy folded her hands in her lap.

“Okay. What are you going to do, then?”

“I know my dad would take me, but—“

“Move in with me.” D'arcy interjected, quickly adding, “Well, actually, my lease is almost up. You could stay for a few nights. Then maybe... we could go in on a new place together?” D'arcy looked away for a moment, embarrassed by her own clumsy suggestion.

Asta laughed. “Let me guess, you need someone to cosign on a nicer place so you can spend fewer nights sleeping at The 59.” D'arcy frowned, and Asta realized the suggestion was serious. “Oh. Yeah, okay. Thank you... I guess we'll go to your apartment and figure things out from there...” Asta wasn't sure she was ready to commit to renting yet, but she wasn't going to say no to a place to sleep until she figured things out.

She knew she'd made the right choice when D'arcy grinned at her, twirling the ends of her bright hair.

--

D'arcy's tiny apartment wasn't far. Since she'd wisely left her car at the 59, her parking space was empty. Actually, most of the spaces were empty—people didn't like living in these run-down apartments. It had been a while since Asta had been here, since D'arcy spent most of her time at The 59.

D'arcy ran around to the driver's side and held out her hand to help Asta out. “Allow me to escort you.”

The smile quirking on Asta's lips burned where they were split, but she didn't mind it much. Smiling was worth a little pain. She winced as D'arcy pulled her arm a little too quickly, a pain shooting through her side. Those ribs needed to be iced. When D'arcy hesitated, Asta waved it off. “Don't worry about it. I'll be fine after some rest. Promise.” Asta offered the pinky on her free hand.

D'arcy knew better than to suggest Asta get looked over at the clinic. The only time Asta had let herself be patched up after a Jimmy thing was when he'd thrown a glass at her and she needed stitches on her arm. She never wanted to answer questions about how she'd been hurt, so she never gave Dr. Hodges a formal occasion to ask. D'arcy unhappily twined her pinky with Asta's.

As soon as they got inside, Asta made a beeline to the freezer for ice. From the nearby coat closet, D'arcy grabbed an old water-proof bag she used for especially bad hangover headaches. She promptly took the ice from Asta and filled the bag with cubes. There were medical supplies in the bathroom, and D'arcy hurried to grab them. She gestured for Asta to take the bed in her little room. In her current state, Asta wasn't foolish enough to protest the courtesy.

Within minutes, Asta was as fixed as she could be tonight. She fended off a sigh, knowing her ribs couldn't handle it. There was only silence as she iced them, giving herself time to brood about a future she suddenly couldn't see the shape of.

D'arcy solemnly watched her from her sleeping bag on the floor until they both drifted into fitful sleep. They'd deal with everything later.

--

AN: I'm not sure if I'm going to have Sam Hodges die yet. Either way, there won't be as much focus on Asta's work life as on the show. Also I'm just having D'arcy have red hair from the beginning for simplicity.

Comments and reblogs are love! Thanks for reading!

Updates will be irregular but will happen.

And because she asked me to, I'm tagging my friend @specialinterestshows

[petedavidsonscock]

The first time it happens is after a game. It's still early in the year, one of their first wins with Dex as captain, and Nursey had scored a goal and gotten an assist. Afterwards, in the locker room, Dex was keyed-up and overwhelmed; Nursey watched from the side, grinning, as the other players on the team swarmed him, clapping his back and yelling and celebrating in that uniquely SMH way—by analyzing and reanalyzing every play.

Of course there was a kegster after that. Nursey helped set up, making sure the speakers were working, dragging tables around and taste-testing the tub juice. Around eleven, people started streaming through the doors in earnest, and Nursey made his way to the living room slash dance floor. He was looking forward to the party, dancing and getting a little wasted—or at least he had been until Dex appeared next to him, somehow already flushed, and whispered, "Upstairs?" in his ear.

So now they're in Nursey's room, Nursey's back to the door while Dex seems to be trying to consume Nursey's soul by way of his mouth. Not that Nursey’s complaining: Dex is, like, really good at kissing. He does this thing where he moves down from Nursey’s mouth to his jaw to his neck, and it always makes Nursey feel insane, wanting, always on the edge of something he can’t quite reach. When Dex gently bites Nursey’s bottom lip, he lets out an embarrassing little whine, and Dex does it again, a little harder.

"You played so fucking well," he pulls back to pant in Nursey's ear. His hands are fisted in Nursey's shirt, as if there's any possibility of Nursey ever wanting to leave. "That check in second period, on #45, god. And you—I hate this fucking tank top." Though the way he shoves a hand under it to feel up Nursey’s bare stomach contradicts his words. "Shouldn’t be allowed. I almost jumped you in the fucking living room. Did you know that was the hottest fucking goal I've ever seen." (Nursey is too turned on to chirp him for that, unfortunately.) Dex pulls away abruptly to stare into his eyes, and Nursey struggles to catch his breath. His boyfriend is so beautiful. "Fuck," Dex adds fervently, "I love you. Gonna suck your dick now."

He drops to his knees and reaches for Nursey's fly; Nursey is too stunned to stop him.

"Wh-what did you say?" he manages after a moment.

Dex looks up, and the sight of him on the floor is almost enough to derail Nursey.

"Hm?" Dex asks.

"You said," Nursey says, and has to look away so he can finish the sentence. Dex presses a palm to Nursey's dick, still covered by his underwear, and Nursey's hips buck forward even as he clutches desperately as the thought. "Uh, um, you said, you said you lo—”

He breaks off with a whine: Dex has pulled down Nursey's underwear and licked a stripe up his dick. Nursey squeezes his eyes shut, and then Dex mouths at his tip, and he gives the fuck up. "Fuck,” he says instead. “Fuck, Dex, please."

Dex glances up at him, then back down. Normally he'd say something smug here, a quick chirp or an inside joke. That makes it somehow way hotter that he doesn’t this time; just nods, eyes dark, and wordlessly swallows Nursey down.

Nursey doesn't have much brainspace for questions after that.

***

And, okay, it’s at least partially Nursey’s fault for forgetting to bring it up. But Dex doesn't mention it the next morning, and Nursey—oh, shit, Nursey has to be in Boston by ten for Lardo's art exhibit. He staggers desperately around his room—where are his pants, where are the car keys, where is his fucking phone—until Dex appears in the doorway to shove Nursey’s miraculously-charged phone at him, along with Dex’s truck’s keys and a waffle wrapped in a paper towel.

It’s not until he’s on the highway that Nursey has a moment of recollection. He blinks, trying to reach past the fogginess of an exhausted night’s sleep and remember. Didn’t Dex say something about… about loving him? Nursey frowns slightly to himself—and then frowns much harder when a BMW switches into his lane without signaling, because fuck Massachusetts drivers.

Once he’s done cursing out the driver in his head, the thought feels even fuzzier. Dex was saying a lot of things last night (Nursey has to concentrate to force some of them down; now is not the time). And Nursey was so tired; surely Dex wouldn't have dropped the l-word like that. Yeah, Nursey decides, he definitely misheard. And then he's taking the exit into the city, where he has to simultaneously find parking and not crash Dex's fucking car. The art show is great; lunch at Haus 2.0 is great—by the time Nursey gets back to the Haus that afternoon, he's forgotten entirely about the previous night.

***

The next few times sort of blur together, because Nursey isn't sure about any of them. Sometimes, when he's falling asleep, wrapped around Dex in his too-small twin, he thinks he hears Dex whisper, "I love you." But sometimes he also thinks he hears Dex say things like, "I'm the muffin man" and "Walmart is underwater again." The last two are almost certainly inventions of Nursey's half-awake mind; why couldn’t the first one be?  

***

The first time he's certain is on a phone call. Nursey's at the racist Stop-N-Shop buying tampons while Dex is laid up at home. Nursey had called because the store is out of the ones Dex usually gets, and while he knows the answer is probably, "Just buy whatever, Nurse, I don't fucking care," he hates getting it wrong.

Nursey’s prediction turns out to be right, but they end up talking for a few minutes more while Nursey wanders around the store. Then someone overhears that Dex is on the phone, and it turns out that everyone at the Haus has urgent shopping needs that absolutely can’t wait for someone else to make a grocery trip.

"Okay, see you soon," Nursey says once they've handled the main issue (and his cart is too full of protein powder (Tango), frozen vegetables (Hops), and ice cream cake (Ford, for some reason) to handle any more requests.

"Yeah, love you," Dex says casually, and hangs up.

Nursey stares in disbelief at his now-dark phone screen. “What the fuck?” he says.

"Dex, what the fuck," Nursey repeats when he gets back. He's distributed the goods, and now he's in Dex's basement bungalow, brandishing a box of tampons like a weapon.

Dex stares at him blearily from his bed. He'd sounded fine over the phone, but in person he looks like a sweaty rat, hair mussed up and obviously overheating from the hot water bottle he's got on his stomach. "What?" he croaks.

Nursey realizes suddenly that this might not have been the best timing on his part. He lowers the box sheepishly and comes over to the bed.

"It's nothing," he says. He puts the box on the floor. "It's nothing. I got the stuff."

Dex has to crane his head back to look at him, which seems to take a lot out of him; Nursey has to wait for Dex’s eyes to refocus on him.

"Cool," Dex says after a moment. "Thanks."

"No problem." Nursey gives in to impulse and pats Dex's head a few times, and is surprised when Dex leans into it. "I was gonna—give you some space?" he adds, now more of a question.

Dex frowns a little. "What? No, stay."

Nursey stays.

***

When he wakes up the next day, squinting because the overhead light is on (cons of a basement bedroom), Dex is fully dressed and apparently ready for class. Nursey takes one look at him and shuts his eyes again; he doesn’t know the time, but he can tell somehow that it’s too early.

"Hey," he hears Dex say quietly.

Nursey makes a vague noise of discontent at the hour, and feels more than hears Dex’s answering huff of amusement. He hears some movement, and a moment later, there’s a soft kiss being pressed to Nursey’s forehead. "Thanks for yesterday,” Dex whispers. “I love you."

He kisses Nursey's forehead again, and Nursey’s eyes fly open, only to watch him turn away, apparently content with the interaction. Nursey has to push his brain forcefully into wakefulness to stop him from leaving.

"Hey!" he manages, struggling to sit up. "Wait! No!"

Dex stops, looking amused. "Yeah?"

"You—" Nursey takes a moment to rub his eyes, then sit up fully. "You said you love me. What the fuck, man?"

Dex pauses, tensing. “Am I not supposed to? We're dating. I'm allowed.”

"Stop being deliberately obtuse," Nursey says. "Was the plan to just keep sneaking it in so we'd never have to talk about it?"

"Keep sneaking what in?" Dex says, obviously shifty. "Look, I have class now, so—”

“Sit down.”

Dex sits.

Nursey smiles at him, then leans forward and takes both of Dex’s hands in his own, maintaining eye contact even while Dex looks anywhere but at him.

"Look, we have to do this," he says.

Dex bites his lip and sighs, like a kid being dragged to the dentist. "Do we really?"

Nursey barely manages not to laugh. "Yes. Look at me, Poindexter."

Dex drags his gaze reluctantly to meet Nursey's.

"Dex," Nursey says, "I love dating you." Dex immediately turns pink, which is great. "You're smart, and kind, and caring, and really fucking hot. You make me really happy. You give incredible head." Dex rolls his eyes even as he turns redder. Nursey considers dragging this out more, but Dex really does have class soon. "Will Poindexter, you're my favorite person in the world, and I love you."

There's a pause as Dex visibly struggles against the urge to set himself on fire.

"Fine," he grits out finally. "Fine. I guess that's fine."

Nursey grins at him, his stupid, ridiculous, wonderful boyfriend. "And is there anything you have to say to me?"

Dex gets the dentist-face again. “Do I have to?”

"Don’t hurt yourself," Nursey tells him.

Dex grasps for a pillow and shoves it in Nursey's face. Nursey sputters through a mouthful of cotton, then pulls the pillow away to smile at Dex some more. He knows he’s radiating smugness right now, which is both a good way to irritate Dex and a factor of how happy he feels. Dex, still red, glances at him and then away.

"Fuck you," he mutters. "I'm gonna be late."

But he leans over to kiss Nursey properly first. Nursey arches up into it, getting a hand around Dex’s neck and another one under his shirt. When they separate, Dex is breathing more heavily than he was a minute ago.

"Fuck you," he says again, a little breathlessly. "I love you. I have to go."

"Mm," Nursey says, and pulls him down again.

In the end, Dex is only, like, ten minutes late to class.

Practically on time.

***

thanks for reading! 

here are ao3 links for this fic if you want to leave me a kudos/comment, and my account if you want to read more short, funny nurseydex fic.

[twogeeseinatrenchcoat]

Spiritfarer Rant (It's Long)

Yeah. It's what the title says. I've been playing Spiritfarer a lot more recently, just wanted to share some shit my brain thought of. As a reminder, this is random shit I think of as I'm writing it and essentially rambling. Take all of my game analysis with a grain of salt. That said, play the game and be absolutely destroyed emotionally by the frog uncle.

(Putting the tldr here so people don't have to scroll)

Tldr: Spiritfarer is an excellent game that you should absolutely play. It pays attention to detail, has amazing characters and storylines, and is never boring for more than a few minutes (in my experience).

Holy shit this game is good. If you haven't played it yet (and don't mind getting absolutely destroyed emotionally by a cozy game) absolutely recommend. Absolutely. Play it. And face the consequences dear god this game is sad.

And that's coming from a person who is just so emotionally detached to media. I cannot remember the last time I cried over a book. (it was years ago, I remember exactly, I'm just a liar. Long story short, Xan from She Who Drank the Moon) The only spirits I cried over were Gwen and Stanley. (I think I cried over Stanley? Not sure.) But if the standard of the game is "I only cried twice playing this," you know that's sad. And honestly, It's kinda expected, what else can you really expect with a game about ferring spirits to their death while simultaneously being their therapist and friend?

But it's done so well. So well. I think this concept is so hard to pull off, and to pull it off to the degree that Spiritfarer does is insane. The attention to detail, the meticulous story-crafting, the way they made sure that every single character gets a backstory---even Stella's (the player) backstory is played out so well.

MINOR SPOILERS

Like, who came up with the genius idea of her sister coming on board and them traveling around and going through a photo album of Stella's life? Give that person a raise. And the way that the backstory isn't even revealed until relatively late in the game? I loved that. It's not thrown in your face, it plays out at your pace, and the whole shit with the owl and Lily and just ahhhh I loved it! Play the game.

SPOILERS OVER

Also, the way the game is interesting even when you aren't actively doing anything? There's almost always something to do. If there isn't, they give you something to do. You can always redo your boat design to eliminate those gaps again. You can always build more farms, you can always fish more, you can always do more.

And yes, it could get repetitive after a while, but they have quests! They have so many different and unique storylines for each spirit! And there's unique houses and flowers and likes and dislikes and preferences and personalities and gifts and emotions and moods and they even have different fucking hug animations! It's not just "oh there are people on the boat but they're just kinda there." NO. They are present at all times!

You'll be flying by and see someone call out to you. You'll be on your way to grab some crops and Beverly will give you some fireglow and tell you to make something spicy for her! You go onto an island and you see Atul picking berries! You go talk to Gustav, give him some food because he's hungry, hug him, talk to him and he gives you a vase! They are present, at every moment. Even with a large ship, an endgame ship with only a few spirits on it, it still feels full because you talk to them. You interact with them. You give them food---and you better not give Buck milk, because he's lactose intolerant, or Bruce and Mickey, well anything aside from junk food really, or Elana fine dining food---and you talk with them, and you share moments with them, you bond with them, and then suddenly they're gone.

Suddenly they're asking to be taken to the Everdoor because their time has come and you're devastated. Because now the character that you've spent so much time talking with, bonding with, enjoying talking to and interacting with, whoever it may be, is gone. And holy shit if that isn't one of the best representations of grief and loss that I've ever fucking seen I don't know what is. This game knows what it is, it knows what it wants to do, and it does it so fucking well. It lets you bond with these spirits, let's you get to care about them, learn their backstories, see how it affects them, how they change, and then you have to lead them to the afterlife, where you'll never see them again.

When playing the game, it really feels like every single detail is thought out, planned, cared about. The islands are amazing, the scenery is beautiful, have I mentioned the art style? It's amazing. I think the only game that could really beat it in terms of stunning art is Gris, but Gris belongs in a fucking museum sooooooo...

One big reason that I stopped playing Animal Crossing was because I felt like I was progressing too slow, wasn't getting enough done, or there wasn't enough to do. (Not saying Animal Crossing isn't a great game, just that it's not for me) Spiritfarer never has that problem. If a character storyline isn't progressing, work on another one! Stuck making a material? Move onto another project. Have too much time on your hands because your boat moves too slow? Gather more materials, talk with the spirits, make sure to stock up on their favourite foods so they're happy, or even take a break. There's never much of a lull, and while there are moments---mainly when sailing between islands---in which you can be bored, log off! Or just wait it out, it's never really more than a few minutes. For every quest that wants you to go somewhere and do something, there'll probably be one that wants you to make something: make a house, upgrade a house, make a production building, make this or that for one of Francis's errands, the list goes on.

And if you ever get bored with the main quests, or they're too complicated, or you can't find something (Henry the Acetate, I'm looking at you) (but I googled it for that), then there's civilian errands! You can do shit for the people in the towns if you want. Deliver records to these places, go through this mine, deliver a letter from Hummingberg to Nordsee. One of my favourite pastimes is cooking. I don't know why, but I just love cooking in this game. So, I've been trying to completionist it. (I won't, I'll give up 3/4 the way through and call it good enough) But even so, it just goes to show. There's really never a long period with something to do. The game stroked just the right balance between giving you things to do and giving you free time to do what you want.

I think I should end it here before this gets too much longer. But yeah! That's pretty much all of my thoughts on Spiritfarer. (Not really, but all of the ones for now) Amazing game, 5/5, absolutely recommend.

[ifidiedinadream]

prompts? how about joeleksi except joel is awake at night and hears aleksi moan in his sleep and starts blowing him, and after aleksi's awake and has cum, joel teases him and tries to weasle out of him what he was dreaming about and gets more and more confused why aleksi's so hesitant and embarrased to tell him because usually he's happy to tell joel about all his fantasies and dreams, but somehow he manages to convince him and aleksi admits he had a dream about robin, or robin and joel together 😏

disclaimer: i think ale's piercing is fake but in this fic it's real 😌

also on ao3

It's the middle of the night. 

Joel can't sleep, which doesn't surprise him; he can't sleep in his own bed, let alone a random hotel room in a foreign city. Having Aleksi next to him usually does the trick, at least at home, but tonight even his presence doesn't seem to help. 

Joel is listening to music on his phone. It's the only way he can lie awake without going insane - a method tried and tested a few years back he's been faithful to ever since. The volume is low, so he's sure the sound won't disturb Aleksi's peaceful slumber. Joel likes to listen to his slow breathing in between songs, it's grounding, so he never puts his AirPods in sound cancelling mode. 

Time is dragging along the way it always does on nights like this - slowly (in an agonizing way at that), four minute song after four minute song, and Joel is starting to feel like dawn won't come this time around. 

Then, when Linkin Park's Lost ends, before the next song can begin, his boyfriend lets out a sound that's different; it's not as quiet and soft as the light snoring from the past couple of hours, it's louder, it's... guttural. 

It happens again. And then once more. 

Joel stops the music, going to inspect Aleksi. Maybe his new piercing is bothering him, making it difficult to breathe (how would Joel know, he's never had his septum pierced), or maybe Aleksi is having a bad dream. Did Joel wake him up? 

Without his AirPods on it's clearer; those sounds aren't pained, aren't strained, Aleksi is just obviously enjoying himself a lot. 

A grin spreads on Joel's lips as he turns on the lamp on the bedside table. The little shit is having a dirty dream and it's even more obvious when Joel figures out his agitated movements, realizing he's thrusting his hips into the air. Joel checks under the duvet. His cock is rock hard. 

They had this conversation before. Aleksi said he likes the idea of waking up to a blow job, and Joel couldn't think of a better moment to make his dream come true. 

Quite literally. 

Joel goes under the blanket, presses his hands to Aleksi's hips to keep him still, and Aleksi responds to the touch like he were alert - a brief struggle and a whine. Joel takes him out of his boxers and puts the tip into his mouth. 

Aleksi moans. Joel lifts the duvet to check if he's still asleep, and he most definitely is, even if his eyes roll back behind his eyelids when Joel flicks his tongue. Aleksi's lips are parted and the rhinestones of his piercing catch the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand. Joel shouldn't find it half as sexy as he does. 

(But then again it's Aleksi, everything he does is hot.) 

Joel stops observing him and puts his all into the blowjob then. He closes his eyes as he takes all of him in, allowing him to go past his throat, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Aleksi touches his head. Joel can't help but notice his moans are way less restrained than when he's awake, like he isn't trying to be cool and strong (as if Joel could ever think Aleksi is not cool and strong), and Joel is losing his mind about it just a tiny bit. 

He comes up for air, throws the blanket out of the way because he needs more oxygen, and then he's mouthing at Aleksi's tip again, sucking the drops of precum directly from the tiny hole as they form. Aleksi bucks his hips with a groan when Joel takes the whole head in again and his tongue finds the most sensitive spot on the underside. Joel's tongue brushes against the whole underside of Aleksi's cock as he takes him deeper, and when he starts bobbing his head up and down, Aleksi's hand presses harder into the back of his head. 

Aleksi comes into Joel's mouth. He opens his eyes wide, suddenly awake, panting. He looks down at Joel and his features soften. 

"Oh, hi, baby." Aleksi's voice is all raspy with sleep and Joel's own cock twitches. 

"Good morning." Joel sits up, then leans in to leave a kiss to Aleksi's lips. "Seems like you were having a hell of a good time in dreamland." 

Aleksi blushes and looks away. 

"Was this okay?"  

"Yeah, I loved it," Aleksi says, then he's lost in thought again and brings the duvet closer to his chest. 

"So, what is it you were dreaming about?" 

Joel moves to lie beside Aleksi. He kisses his temple but his boyfriend seems tense. 

"Uhm, you know how dreams just don't make sense sometimes..." 

It's not like him to be reticent about his fantasies, and this only makes Joel more intrigued. 

"But you obviously really liked this one." 

"I mean, yeah..." 

Aleksi doesn't continue, despite Joel giving him plenty of time to explain himself. Joel, however, is too invested now and won't give up this easily. 

"C'mon, it can't be worse than me wanting to be called little cockslut princess while you twist my nipples." Okay, maybe saying it out loud when they aren't in the middle of sex does feel a little embarrassing, but Aleksi has always been nothing but welcoming when Joel tells him about his most shameful desires, and he wants Aleksi to trust him just as much. "Should I be ashamed when you find me wearing pink lace lingerie when we come home after a whole day at the studio?" 

"What? No, of course not. It's hot as hell." 

"Then you can tell me what you were dreaming about. I won't judge." 

Aleksi brings a thumb to his lips and bites at the fingernail. Joel can tell he's trying to find the words. 

"I was dreaming about..." Aleksi pauses, exhales, "Robin's cock in my ass. While you sucked me off. The way you were actually doing, as it turned out." 

Joel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Aleksi never talks about Robin like that. 

"I didn't know you liked him." 

"Me neither, as it's probably obvious." Aleksi's face is as red as a tomato, and when Joel grabs his hand to get him to stop biting his nails, he finds that it's cold and sweaty. It's fucking cute when he's embarrassed like this, especially considering he's the confident one in the relationship, looking all badass with his new septum piercing. 

"It's okay, babe," Joel says, taking his boyfriend in his arms and kissing his forehead, "let's give him a call when he comes back from tour, mh?" 

Aleksi huffs a laugh. "Joel, we can't just call someone and ask them to have sex with us." 

"But you like the idea of it, don't you?" 

Aleksi considers it. "Yeah. I mean. I think so, yeah." 

"Then I wanna do it. You always make me happy in bed and indulge all my fantasies. I wanna be that for you, too." 

Aleksi smiles and kisses Joel on the cheek. "We need to think of a plan, then. For now, though," he continues, running his hand down Joel's body, "let me return the favor." 

[pumpkinsy0]

Headconnos about

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The gang + the Shepards & Buck in a snowball fight!

Darry would make hot chocolate for everyone "since he is the mature one"

Tim and Dally would use ice instead of snow on eachother lol

Johnny,pony and curly would probably build a snowman or snow angels

Buck would probably join in on Dally and Tim (or maybe stop them/why not both lol)

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That's really what I can think of...if you have more that's perfect! I would love to see what you come up with I love your headconnons!

Its fine if you don't like the ideas I put down, I just thought they would be funny :D 🍀

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TAKE YOUR TIME, THANK YOU! 🌸

MY BAD IM ANSWERING THIS LATE I KEPT FORGETTING TO BUT YEA HCS OK LETS GO

•lets just say that this winter in tulsa it snowed a lot bc of like idk global warming or somethin, it rlly doesnt snow THAT much in tulsa from what i remember

•darry and angela r inside bc they absolutely hate the cold

•tbh it probably started off so innoccent like pony and johnny were just throwing snow at each other, curly saw and chucked snow at pony, pony through snow back but curly ducked and it missed and hit steve and it absolutely snowballed from there

•theres entire teams being built of this shit, whos on whos team is up to u its rlly not THAT important, all u need to know is that its getting absolutely insane out there, theres forts built, man even the snowballs r getting a bit much bc y did a snowball get thrown at curly and it had pebbles inside

•that shit stung like it had splash damage ill tell u that much, so despite much of curlys protest, pony, curly, and johnny just quietly snuck off to do whatever

•they did build a snowman but it took a while bc curly was just trying to make the biggest snowball for the bottom section and that was a whole issue in and of itself

•and boy oh boy were they lucky they left when they did bc while they were doing that tim said “did u know that 15 americans die every year from icicle related incidents” and just smacked dally in the head w an icicle

•after that they were just wrestling in the snow, buck pulled up bc he had to give tim something, saw them n just,,,stared

•soda, two bit, and steve were right there w him and asked if they should do something and buck just went “nonono let them have this”

•meanwhile angela and darry were inside making hot chocolate bc it is getting somehow even colder, darry was just actually making it meanwhile angela was decorating them bc shes just a festive gyal

•day ended w everyone damn near getting frostbite and or hypothermia but hey they got hot chocolate and theyre doin a ok rn🤞🏽🤞🏽

[insomnia-productions]

i don't know if anyone remembers that teen apocalypse show Daybreak that Netflix cancelled after one season but im rewatching it while i wait for Yellowjackets s2 and i just transcribed turbo's entire on-screen-text speech from episode 6 and im going a little insane. i love him sm

anyway here it is:

You all. Every one of you. My legion, my friends, my tribe. I see you. I know your names and I know your heart. I know who puts in an honest day’s work. And I know who slacks the system. You know it, too. You know who you are. I SEE YOU. And it’s to you, I say, I’m lowkey-not-lowkey ballistic. You trust me to give you everything, yeah. Food, shelter, warmth, weapons, leadership, safety. Even a beer every now and then. And in return, you know what I ask? It’s pretty fucking simple. I ask that you don’t murder-kill me. That’s how this shit is supposed to work. Fair exchange, right? I mean, after everything I’ve built here? Look around you. This is our school. Our public school. And a public school takes in anybody. I take in anybody. There’s always a seat for you on my bleachers. Doesn’t matter your former tribe. Doesn’t matter who you used to be. You’re safe here. I’m the eye in Hurricane Nuclear Fallout. I’m the SPF-120 protecting you from the heat-blasting sun. And once it sets, I’m the only warm blanket you got on these bitter-ass nights. I give you all this, and I ask the simplest thing in return. Loyalty. Loyalty and trust. Loyalty and trust and like an inch of respect maybe. But mostly, loyalty. And would it seriously hurt you to pick up the trash every once in a while. This place is a mess. And it’s starting to smell like foot cheese. Again: I SEE YOU. A quarterback can’t make epic plays without knowing where every single lineman and running back and receiver is. Same here, with you. My job is impossible unless every lieutenant and soldier and kitchen scut right on down the line is is doing their fucking job. Vibe me? Am I getting through? Well, guess what? Y’all betrayed me. Why? I didn’t build all this so you fucks could just take it from me. No way. You don’t own this. The second you do is the second you make it toxic. I’m reminded of the immortal words of that guy who said whoha in Any Given Sunday. [HE GOES ON TO QUOTE THE ENTIRE SPEECH. IT’S LIKE… REALLY LONG.] Yeah. That’s right. I memorized that whole speech. Took me a whole year. I also memorized the speeches from Hoosiers and Remember The Titans and Rocky IV and Cool Runnings and The Mighty Ducks and She’s The Man and High School Musical and Friday Night Lights, both the movie and the television series. So I know about inspiration. I’ll tell you this story. It’s something I didn’t understand at first but now I’m coming around to it. It’s a story my dad told me. There was this guy who used to make vases. I don’t know what they call that? A vaser? Maybe? No. That’s wrong. A sculptor. I guess that could be right. A potter? Maybe a potter? I wonder if that’s why the kid is named Harry Potter? Because he made magic. Like made it. What was I saying? Potter? The vase! Right. Those vases were beautiful things. And check this out… the guy would wrap and unfired vase in horse hair — then put it in his kiln. The horse hair would burn off and leave these black, charred scars. But to get the horse hair, the guy would have to pluck it straight from a stallion's tail. How baller is that? And every time he did, that stallion would buck. The vase-maker, vaser, potter — he was pretty good at dodging the kick, cause he knew it was coming. But more than once, the horse would get him. Knocking him in the face and shoulder. Nasty shit. He still had rolling shards of broken bone you could feel, where the horse shattered his clavicle. But Christ in a halo, it was worth the pain. Those vases, man. I know you think I’m a dumb jock, but I can appreciate a thing like that. Well, I look out at you all, and I think that’s what I have here. You’re the bucking horse. I’m the sculptor. And the beautiful vase is all this, Glendale High. Look what we have. But you fuckers broke the vase. And I’m not sure we can ever glue this thing back together. But I’m gonna try. I’m really gonna fucking try. 

[scattered-winter]

in honor of s6 returning tomorrow, here's a collection of highlights from the 911 annotation doc feat. season 2 finale and tsunami arc (transcript below the cut)

hen sees a chance to make buck’s life living hell and she always takes it <3 older sibling behavior

chim: [hands buck a sledgehammer]

buck: >:D

I FORGOT [maddie] CAME INTO THIS EPISODE <33333

not to be dramatic but if my brother almost walked into the shower with me absolutely ass-cheeked naked i would simply require him to give me financial compensation

buck automatically assumes maddie is talking about eddie when she says someone’s cute

sir. buddy old pal.

press f to pay respects to the new ladder truck that lasts all of like 3 episodes before blowing up

these detectives are stupid as FUCK godbless <3

MADNEY

THEY’RE DISGUSTING. WHEN IS THE WEDDING <3

damn i wish it would rain money where i am rn

a guy comes falling onto a car out of a window and my first thought is “it’s raining men hallelujah”

EUEHHH ITS MAGGOT LADY ALSO

not the hair maggot lady. the other one.

the fact that i have to specify WHICH maggot lady it is. evil.

lmao i forget that. most 15 year olds dont have learner’s permits

i was driving farm equipment when i was 10 so im an outlier i guess

oh my god the hand on buck’s waist

homosexuals

[ID: a close-up screencap of eddie and buck hugging, with eddie's hand on buck's waist and buck's hands on eddie's shoulders. end ID]

do u see this shit mr krabs

[eddie] looks soooooooooooooo slutty in that white shirt oh my god

spiritual successor to the slutty black tank top

WOOOOOO HERE WEGO <333 MOST INSANE FEW EPISODES TO EVER GRACE NATIONAL TELEVISION <33333333333333333

i was a different person before watching the tsunami for the first time btw. after finishing this arc i was a Changed Man.

DO NONE OF THESE PEOPLE KNOW WHAT NO WATER MEANS. Y’ALL LIVE IN LA. YOU SHOULD KNOW.

WHY AREN’T YOU RUNNING

GET THE HELL OUTTA DODGE

GO GO GO GO GO GOG OG GO GOG OG GO GOG GOGOGOGOGOGOGOGO

ghlsdkjfskg this guy wanting A Sign … my brother you got a fucking tsunami

poseidon said Fuck this guy

fuck it

au where the greek gods are real

i mean we already know zeus has it out for buck and eddie

it aint much of a stretch <333

LENA <33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

i think she and lucy should have met onscreen tbh

or maybe not because the sheer dyke energy would be too powerful for the show to handle

and yes i know this show has a canon lesbian couple. irrelevant <3

ghlskdjg buck’s look of absolute shock after eddie looks him in the eye and says That….bitch me too the fuck

MAN AND [athena] HAS TO AMPUTATE A GUY’S ARM….

major props to her because i could NOT do that

i’d simply say Sorry bro i just. yeah i have a uh. thing. with a guy. i gotta go. bye <3

ghslkdgj [chim] makes a quip as he’s pulling up <333 ofc he does <33333

i fucking love him btw. in case u couldnt tell.

“we’re gonna need a bigger mail truck” the way you just KNOW he’s seen jaws

[phanfictioncatalogue]

History/Math/Science Geek Masterlist

Beauty And The Geek - amazingdanielhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil are both fairly popular but in different clicks and the school ships them.

Chemistry (ao3) - howelllesters

Summary: Based on this prompt, ‘sporty!dan is lab partners with computergeek!phil and magic happens.’

Color Me Shades of Smitten (ao3) - andedan

Summary: High school au in which Dan is an introspective poet, and Phil is a quiet math geek. One day their paths cross, and their lives both change for good.

crayons and constellations (ao3) - howelllesters

Summary: “I’m the shy, quiet art major in our painting class and you’re the insane math major who’s always raving on about how the universe is full of dimensions that 3D can’t capture and how beautiful that is" AU. Or, the one where Phil takes Dan stargazing, and shows him the beauty in not knowing.

DBC - full-dark-no-starss

Summary: It’s 1995 and five kids are stuck in detention the night of year eleven prom. There’s the bad boy; Dan, with his battered leather jacket, bad attitude and lame crush on Phil, the hot-headed geek who hates him. Then there’s Emma; the strange red-head with no voice, Louise, the pretty rich girl and Joe, the guy who’s captain of every sport in the school, but his only interest is drama.

How to make a star (ao3) - okasennascribe

Summary: Space is amazing, there are planets, galaxies, and stars made out of pop cans?

In The Area (ao3) - Elleberquist6

Summary: Excerpt: Dan admired him for a moment, running a hand down his milky thigh before paying him the compliment he was due, “You’re a marvelous specimen of humanity.”

“You too,” Phil whispered, but then said louder, “I can tell that you’re a testament to your kind, too.”

Dan noticed where Phil’s eyes kept flicking and he laughed. “Want something?”

Phil’s cheeks got pink and he was having trouble maintaining eye contact, but he said, “Um, well, are you ready? To study me I mean…”

Pastel Princess - analphancones

Summary: Phil is at a loss for what to give Dan for Christmas. He doesn’t have the money he wishes he did to give Dan the best Christmas gift ever. Dan is a poetry geek, a pastel boy with a passion for being a teen poet. Phil is a punk with no clue how to write, but for Christmas Phil gives it a shot and writes Dan a love poem. In return Dan does the same and in way of a gift, they recite their love poems to each other while having sweet, slow, and romantic sex on Christmas eve.

Science Projects And Bullies (ao3) - Angel_Of_Darkness1

Summary: Dan Howell is one of the popular kids who is invited out to parties all the time and is every ones friend. Phil Lester is one of the losers who is hated by everyone and beaten up everyday by Dan and his friends.. So when Phil finds out that he has a science project, and his partner is the one and only Dan Howell, you can only imagine why he is so absolutely terrified and done with life.

Teach Me How To Kiss (ao3) - cityscaped

Summary: Dan is a typical notorious bad boy smoker who couldn’t give a shit about anything. Phil is a quiet librarian nerd who spends too much of his time in an abandoned tower in school. After rumours were spread that Dan had slept with many girls, and his two friends finding about it, Dan’s dirty little secret is exposed. Dan has no idea how to kiss. And what does he do? He gets kissing lessons from Phil.

That Damn Project (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: "I love you," Phil purred softly before he slowly pushed into Dan, taking his sweet time to ensure he didn't hurt his boyfriend. He let out soft grunts and moans as he used all of his willpower to not buck right into the younger boy, but his tight slick heat was almost too much around his cock and he knew he wasn't going to last as long as he usually could.

~*~*~ aka: the sequel to Class Partners that literally no one asked for featuring punk!virgin!bottom!Dan giving all of himself to geek!top!Phil with lots of fluff and some p great love making.

The Partner Project - fakecouple

Summary: The AU in which Phil is the nerd, and Dan is the rebellious bad boy with witty quips.

You're As Cute as 3.142 (ao3) - phanetixs

Summary: “Dan, sweet sweet Dan. All the girls in our class are mad about Phil Lester with his blue eyes and cheekbones and what is he doing about it? Dan, all he’s doing is staring at you,” Louise raises an eyebrow whilst saying this and Dan’s mind becomes increasingly fuzzy in connecting the dots.

or, the story of Dan & Phil, Math rivals, who are secretly into each other.

[honestlyeddie-im-bi]

About the discussion we've been having on my post about Eddie still having guilt over the tsunami, I think it makes a lot of sense with the way their characters are built, Buck might feel guilt over the fact that he couldn't control his reaction and alerted Eddie of Shannon, Eddie still carries the guilt of forcing Buck to get out of bed and accidentally sending Buck and Chris to the tsunami, Buck never got over anything in his life so he definitely still feels bad for losing Chris, and the fact that they never talked about the well actually infuriates me. The well was such a defining moment in their relationship and they never talked about it. Even without the way the team was treating Buck as a victim's spouse and the way Buck was completely irrational by trying to dig Eddie up, being down there made Eddie decide to give Buck his son. The fact that they never really talked about it is insane, because Eddie changed the very nature of their relationship after that, you can't just offer your kid to some guy you've known for a what? 2 years tops at the time? And never discuss the reason behind the decision (Eddie say i love you like a normal person I'M BEGGING YOU) and they keep going around the edges of the situation without ever looking at it in the eyes and I think they really need to sit down and just... Talk. About everything. Shannon's death, the tsunami, the lawsuit, the well and obviously the shooting and the lightning but also focusing on the feelings that come with watching someone you love going through trauma, not just supporting someone you love through their trauma. I think Buck would even benefit of talking about how he felt when Chris called him when Eddie took a baseball bat to everything he owns. They need to deal with the guilt and all other underlying feelings that exists there.

But since Buck doesn't believe his own worth and thinks he's not allowed his feelings, he thinks he just needs to shove it away (and he is shoving it away per Eddie's request because he focused on his hurt and what he got was everyone he loves mad at him and Eddie basically calling him selfish so he stopped asking in a way, and the grocery store fight is fueled by anger and I don't really think Eddie meant it, he just wasn't used to not have Buck prioritize him and lashed out, but Buck internalizes this stuff, like when Bobby says Buck calls him pops but we never see Buck calling him that because Bobby said they're not a family and Buck internalized the shit out of that) so he won't feel like he's making it about himself and Eddie overcorrects, so when he forced Buck to deal with something, the tsunami happened, he took a step back and Buck filed a lawsuit so dude probably thinks he needs to wait for Buck to come to him with it if he needs to, but Buck won't so they just... Don't do anything about it.

(bottle episode but it's just Buck and Eddie trapped in an elevator discussing their various shared traumas when)

YES THIS!!! EXACTLY THIS!!! I think you summed up pretty much everything I feel about Buck, Eddie, Buddie and guilt.

And you’re right about something else! The thing about them is that they don’t talk - ever - not about the important things, not about the things that matter, not about the things that could potentially unmake them!!! And they know!!!! Like, they must know, right????? That they tip toe around the big things.

So yeah they need to talk! Absolutely, big bottle episode with them trapped somewhere and just unleashing everything they need to say!

[calyssmarviss]

Okay i got obsessed again with star wars here for a minute, legit started working on tthat one fic again because my vpn was making the episode charge dreadfully slow but now i turned it off and BUCK WHAT ARE YOU DOING I MEAN YEAH I MEAN WHAT THE HELL IS EDDIE DOING THERE I MEAN GO IT FOR KING I MEAN NO YOU DON’T DESERVE IT AFTER THAT CATCH YOU LATER BUCK that was bitchy as fuck wow they’re both jealous and it’s incredible

(Much later: well this has turned into a whole ass shoke full of spoilers reaction post didn’t it)

That’s insane dialogue, what do you mean “jumping ship” and “keeping options fluids”, mhm, boys? Like on a surface level Eddie’s asking if Buck is thinking about a new career option, and the metaphor makes it not even sound that deep, but you know they have some history with the concept of leaving the 118 and it either did not go down at all or didn’t go well. So Buck’s answer is like, probably not the best one to hear if you’re Eddie Diaz, but it’s banter in front of a thir party so even if he’s thinking about that he has to let it fly. Then if you put your buddie goggles on, it can be him asking, are you interested in that guy?

HE’S TAKING UR MAN TO VEGAS of all places

*

That’s not Harry. Aintnoway he went through his whole ass puberty in less than a year!

Look, Bobby can spot the impostor too.

*

Ravi!

OH THIS IS SO HAPPENING

Hey girlies how does it feel to be so right and never lose? Ngl feels so good to me.

He’s so revolted this was the perfect moment to pause at

Oh god the next frame tho.

The rope going down the pipe exept they’re both on top now

Eddie now you’re doing it on purpose. Buck just said “you never have enough friends” and you just… piled on top of it. Like. I get you, i really get you. All’s fair. But that’s Buck and you know he has abandonment issues, man.

OH NO

oH NO

oh Nooo

Oh you didn’t didn’t edmundo diaz

WHY ARE YOU BEING SO MEAN TO HIM LOOK AT HIS FACE

Oh god i stopped to type and didn’t hear the dialogue yet this is insane Eddie you babby trapped him and he was your second choice and it’s your third date with Tommy already. *cough*whore*cough*/affectionate

No fr real Eddie Diaz pettiest bitch in Los Angeles. He’s gonna make Buck come to his senses the haaaaaard way.

Insane shit.

You bet he’s bothered and bewildered.

*

BITCHING TO HIS SISTER he’s so precious (Eddie it’s working)

Revenge of the Sith is the best Star Wars tho Buck, I’m in Tommy and Chris’s camp on this. Guess you’ll have to be the babysitter from now on.

“I didn’t have to (in the bitchiest tone Oliver Stark has ever used). Eddie, on his fridge (!) has a day calendar, under a take out menu: Thursday: BBPU, Double-U, back slash(okay you insane man), Tommy. And it’s circled.”

I’m dying and it’s from pure glee.

“Is it circled with a heart around it?”

*

“We have a problem.”

Yeah, that kid’s not Harry!

Lmao he’s on the run from the cops!

Yeah she can’t recognise her son because that’s not Harry!

Why is the show encouraging me???

Okay, that’s Harry, fine.

*

Oh now who’s inside looking in, looking through the glass closet locker room no less

Wait, isn’t that what leads to those stills i’ve seen of that convo? Are they gonna have a serious talk?

I need all the gifs from that episode.

Making sure he’s in line of sight, uh.

You’re not the one he wants Ravi, sorry.

IS HE FOR REAL

asdfghjkl evan buckley you got it bad

Eddie stop it, you’re not looking but I’m going to have to look at Buck’s face next frame

Bros when no hoes i guess

*

Okay that faceblindness case is genuinely awful

*

Lmao are Eddie and Tommy gonna be there?

Oh yeah, here they are

This is about to get bloody

“So I’m your basketball beard. I feel so bonded.” pffFf

Oh this is both hot and kind of embar at the same time

So, what do you thought of that chest Buck, did it give you insecurities

Ooooouch

You knkw what Eddie, you kind of deserved it FOR ONCE you shouldn’t play with the feelings of a guy that huge

Oh this isn’t good and I’m not talking about Eddie’s foot here

*

“So how’s he feeling?”

“I don’t know.”

That’s what i though you were going to say.

“I felt left out. I was trying to get his attention.” 😭

You know, he’s so valid for that, because Eddie’s attention on him is just… it’s always there, you know? And seeing it being, well, not there, it’s reall day and night. It feels unnatural, which is why i can’t think it’s genuine (but off brand haha). Whether it’s fully intentional on Eddie’s part or not.

*

Where the hell is this going. I mean the one spoiler i saw makes me think Tommy is coming onto Buck, but… look that episode went places that…. Okay I’ll just press play and see!

Buck now you’re the stop stepping a bit too close.

What is this episode guys.

Basically every line is taking me at the knees, this is so awesome.

That’s his flirting smile and i don’t know if i love or hate to see it rn.

They are so petty,

Evan Buckley you liar.

ON MY FUCKING SCREEN

ON MY FUCKING SCREEN

O ye of little faith

911 is delivering

“Please call Eddie.”

And then his face did something complicated idk Buck’s got kissed by a dude and he liked it and we just got delivered an absolute mess of a situation in 42 minutes and i can’t fucking wait to see what’s next oh my god.