#and I can't watch the noah scene

[a-lil-strawberry]

What are y'all's methods of.... Sailing the high seas, per se? You know..... Doing a real.... Jack Sparrow type deal...... One Piece, perhaps?

[earl-grey-crow]

✨pond theories✨

[thelightsandtheroses]

everywhere, everything | jm x female reader [au]

Summary: In recent months, the bar your family has owned for generations has changed. Now it can't keep a bouncer beyond one shift, attracts the 'wrong' crowd, and is an albatross around you and your cousin's neck. Your cousin's latest hire, Joel Miller, seems like he might just survive the shift and as time passes, you can't help but want to know him more. AKA the Bouncer!Joel fic Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of canon typical violence, RoadHouseBouncer!Joel AU, no outbreak, no specified age but reader has a cousin and inferred (not detailed) family deaths in the past, flirting, smut (p in v, and fingering), Joel Miller is his chaotic self, mentions of death of a child (canon), many scenes set in a bar and mentions of alcohol or drinking, your standard lolabee flangst and introspection, reader mentions music, singing and playing guitar. Notes: So much love for this fic goes to @trulybetty for encouraging my ideas and @rhoorl. Watching the new Road House movie at the same time as starting TLOU games created this concept in my head I couldn't let go of. Fic title from the Noah Kahan song of the same name.

It’s starting to weigh on you.

You see it in your cousin more though; the weariness in her eyes as the local gangs come in and inevitably cause trouble. Both of you know where it comes from, the reasons behind it, why it’s so much worse for your roadhouse than anywhere else in the town.

Most days, you want to leave and sell up. Sometimes a fight is too much, it isn’t worth the cost, there’s too high a loss, too tiresome a battle. Everything your cousin possesses is tied up in the bar though. It’s not that simple for her and you won’t walk away from your family. You can’t.

The two of you cannot be the ones who let decades of your family’s legacy just wash away to nothing.

That was why your cousin had started with the bouncers in the first place. The two of you can only afford one, but it’s a small building, a small town.

“This one will be different,” your cousin says with a firm nod and smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “I just know he will. He’s new in town, he starts tonight and he - when you meet him, you’ll see what I mean.”

You don’t say that she said the same thing about the last bouncer - what was his name? Dave, or Frankie, or something like that. You’ve stopped learning their names now - it’s pointless when they never last longer than a few days.

The bar is still quiet; tinny music coming through the speakers as you finish unloading the clean glasses from the dishwasher.

“Are you playin’ tonight?” she asks.

“Might do. If the crowd let me,” you say, smiling at your cousin gently. It’s a joke now; the bar hasn’t been safe enough in months for that.

It used to be your favourite thing about this place; the music, the ability to perform songs and transport yourself to what could have been, what could be. It might not be Nashville, or the Sofi stadium, but it’s the closest you think you’ll ever get to feeling like a real musician. And now you don’t even have that.

“Good, they will. It’s going to be a good one tonight, you’ll see.”

The new bouncer is called Joel but your cousin calls him by his surname: Miller.

He’s quiet, not like the other one. Instead of stalking around and flexing, Miller sits in the corner of the bar, perched on a stool and staring into a cup of coffee as though it would answer all his queries about the universe.

You feel bad about the coffee; you should have warned him that it’s truly awful, pointed him in the direction of the small diner ten minutes away that serves some of the best coffee in the whole state. You think your own coffee isn’t too bad either; perfected and tweaked over years to figure out the perfect combination of beans and grind to bring the best out of your worn moka pot.

“Next time, I’d go for water,” you say lightly as you approach his side of the bar. It’s still quiet for this time of the evening but the trouble doesn’t usually start until after ten anyway.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’m not sure we can even legally call this coffee. I think there’s more caffeine in the Kahlua.”

“You have Kahlua?” Miller asks.

“It’s a very old bottle, I really wouldn’t risk it.” You try and remember the last time someone ordered a drink with it here but it’s hazy. The Bar doesn’t exactly attract people for its cocktail list anymore.

“Pity.”

“I can get you a water if you’d prefer. Or something else?”

“It’s fine.” You notice Miller has pushed the cup slightly away from him though. He eyes it with mild disgust and you feel suddenly even more worried for him. If he can’t handle the coffee, he surely won’t be able to handle the patrons.

“You’re Joe, right?”

“Joel,” he corrects instantly.

“Joel, right. Sorry.”

“Are there that many of us passin’ through, that you don’t learn the names properly now? Is that why your boss calling me Miller?” He doesn’t know who you are, that’s clear. He doesn’t know it’s your family’s legacy here too and you’re not just a bartender. This place matters to you.

“It’s only your first shift.”

Joel sighs and meets your gaze. His eyes are deep brown and you take in the slight salt and pepper to his stubble, the surprisingly comfortable looking plaid flannel he’s wearing. At the same time, you notice the stoniness in his posture, the wariness in his eyes.

He isn’t spoiling for a fight because he lives for them, not like the other bouncers your cousin has hired.

You’ve already realised that Joel Miller fights in an entirely differently way to his predecessors. You can tell his biggest battles aren’t the ones in a bar like this. Without projecting too much, you think they’re probably inside his mind. No one has haunted eyes like that without a story. You’re a bartender, you can just tell.

“What have you have been told about this gig? Do you know what you’re getting into?”

“I know this place has some troubles,” he says carefully.

“I’ll say.”

You remember when things were different in the town, in the bar. It wasn’t like this back then. It used to be for families. Your aunt once joked that your dad’s cooking could bring the entire town together. It’s been a long time since the place was known for a family meal though.

You grew up with laughter and joy inside these walls. Now, it feels like it must have happened somewhere else entirely. This bar is still where you ran in after being asked on your first date ever, where you opened your SAT results, studied while the bar was closed, had every family significant gathering or event you can remember.

This isn’t just a job for you.

“How long have you been here? No offence, but you don’t seem the type -”

“It’s my family’s bar. Your boss you mentioned, she’s my cousin. The two of us run it these days, well I mean, I only help out. It’s her bar now more than mine but it’s been our family’s place for generations. We’re what’s left.” All that’s left.

“I didn’t know. I wasn’t - I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“Of course, Miller.” His words weren’t meant with offence but he had still managed to pick at your vulnerability that you don’t truly belong and cut at your soul.

Your family never thought you’d keep up with the bar, your cousin was the clear front runner to inherit it and you supported that. You wanted to leave your hometown, that had never been a secret and your childhood bedroom had been covered in posters and postcards for exciting and different places.

Once, you dreamt of Nashville, of music venues and guitar calloused hands playing idle melodies as a tour bus drove you to your next city across a starlit sky.

Life had different plans for you thought.

“This town didn’t used to be like this,” you add, “We’ve had a lot of bad luck and - the whole town is suffering. You wouldn’t have recognised this place if you passed through even just a few years ago.”

”I’m -“

The door to the bar crashes open before Joel can finish his sentence. You notice the first of the regular troublemakers walking in and warily look around the bar. You can tell by their posture, the look on their face exactly what type of night it’s going to be.

“Looks like your work will be getting started soon, Miller. I’d drink up.”

He might just survive his first shift. That’s annoying - you have five bucks counting on him either walking out or be stretchered out like any of the bouncers by the end of the night.

You try and pay attention to your surroundings. It’s sensible in your line of work. For so many people that line between a good night and becoming the worst version of themselves is wafer thin and you’re often the first line of defence, you’re the one who has to say when someone’s not being served anymore.

Your cousin is in the back office, trying to sort out the multitude of paperwork that comes with owning a bar or business that nobody ever thinks about.

He’s calm, polite even for the most part.

He doesn’t escalate the situation, not like some of the bouncers who have spent a shift here recently. Mostly he sits and observes. His calmness is almost disconcerting and contrasts sharply with the danger in his posture, the readiness to move he’s concealing.

There hasn’t been too much trouble so far tonight; a mild fight which was easily taken outside but you can feel the tension in the air.

“Can I get ‘nother whiskey?” Robert slurs. He’s a regular to the bar now and has a particular penchant for not being able to handle his alcohol, being very resentful at being cut off, and worse of all never has enough money to cover his bill or damages.

“I think you’re done for tonight,” you say lightly.

“Nah, I say when I’m done.”

“Not according to the liquor licence,” you snark back.

“Look, just pour me -”

“You’re done.”

“You’re such a fucking bitch.” Robert slams his fist down on the bar.

“I think it’s time to go,” Joel says politely, suddenly standing next to Robert in the bar. You’re not sure if he’ll last as a bouncer here but you’ll give him points for stealthiness. You hadn’t even heard him approaching.

“I think -“ Robert starts before pulling a sloppy punch. Joel easily dodges it, raising his eyebrow incredulously at Robert.

“C’mon, now, it’s time to go.”

He places a hand on Robert’s shoulder and guides him out. You’re struck that he didn’t escalate the situation - that was the last bouncer’s mistake. What he hadn’t counted on was what Robert is a mean drunk and often gets a second wind of energy.

Joel walks back up to you at the bar. “The way people talk about this place. That wasn’t so -“

“That, Miller, that was nothing.”

You watch as another troublemaker, Owen, walks in, all biker vest and swagger. It’s never a good night when he’s here. Usually his presence signals a full moon style night of fights, shouting and misery. He hasn’t been in for weeks to your joy; you’d heard a rumour he was in jail. Not any more though.

“Miller you see now the trouble’s really going to start. That wasn’t even your warmup.”

Sunlight streams through the window as you finish wiping over the table. It’s your favourite time of day in the bar. Your cousin is catching up on admin, sleep and supplier deliveries, the bar is empty and it’s just you, the stereo and sunlight.

You can’t help but lose yourself in the music just for a moment. You love this song, the beat, the lyrics, the way it ebbs and flows in all the right places. Music is magic.

You’re not in a rundown bar, not weighed down by obligation and memories and self-doubt. You’re not here, you’re somewhere else. In a city, in a crowd, on a stage or even just dancing around somewhere else. You’re lighter and freer and desperate for the song to continue just a little more as you spin around, humming along with the lyrics.

You hear the door open and turn around quickly. You heard about the diner getting robbed a couple of weeks ago. You should have locked the door.

Miller’s there, some light discolouration to his jaw from the one punch he didn’t dodge, but otherwise intact.

“You seem surprised to see me,” he says.

“You’ve cost me five bucks,” you reply simply.

He raises an eyebrow, “Didn’t think I could hack it*?*”

“The odds are the odds.”

“Well, I’m sorry about your money.”

“Yep, that five bucks was my ticket out of this town,” you joke.

“Not sure that would even cover a bus ticket,” he replies dryly.

“Maybe the coffee for on the bus?”

“Maybe.”

“So, day two,” you say awkwardly, swinging your arms around you and then immediately wondering why on earth you did that. You busy yourself by turning down the speakers.

“Yep,” Miller says casually, sitting on a bar stool.

“Have - are you hungry?” you ask, suddenly conscious that it’s lunchtime and Joel not doubt has another difficult day ahead.

“I could eat.”

”It’s nothing fancy, because the kitchen’s not open, but it is homemade - well, it was. I froze it but it’s defrosted and it’s really good. Also, frozen food still retains its nutrients well, and in the case of cake, freezing it makes it even better.”

“I see.” Miller pauses, “It’s not cake, is it? I don’t think I can eat frozen cake before a shift. ”

“No,” you argue, “it’s Tuesday, that’s what we’d do on a Wednesday! Today it’s lasagne.”

Miller smiles then. It’s a good smile. Slightly crooked and his eyes crease a little, the way you always associate someone smiling when they mean it. His deep eyes are momentarily lighter, there’s a change in him.

You want to tease more smiles out of this man, want to identify each and every changed in his face or the way his hands tap against the old bar. You want to keep him like this, bask in the glow that you’ve bought that expression to his face.

“Lasagne sounds great,” he says after a moment.

“Sure, okay, Miller. Coming right up.”

“Call me Joel. Please.”

“Okay, Joel.”

You like how his name sounds against your teeth, the way he smiles once more when you say his name.

It becomes a habit. Joel survives shift after shift and inevitably turns up to the bar early the following day when you’re there.

He’s lasted longer than fourteen bouncers now. He might just make it. He’s quiet, yes, but you’ve seen the violence in his movements when needed, the way he tries to be polite and then it’s over, then it’s a line. There’s something that compels and terrifies you about the violence he holds, its contradiction because he speaks to you so softly and how can a man be capable of both?

“You need a second bouncer,” he says one morning as you’re trying and failing to sort the back door out.

The employee room in the bar is a barely functioning space. Cliche after cliche with the cheap red IKEA futon, mismatching furniture and chairs and elderly microwave and kettle. The air conditioning has never worked in the room and now the back door is jammed too.

The place is falling apart.

“Can’t afford it,” you reply nonchalantly. “We’re doing our best.”

“I know. But then someone could try and watch at the door, stop some of these people coming in.”

“I know. But no one’s coming in because they’re there so we can’t afford a bouncer. It’s uh, a catch 22. Can’t even afford to replace the damn -” You shove your weight against the door to no avail.

“I can fix that,” Joel says softly as you kick the door one more time.

“The gangs? That’s ambitious.”

“The door.”

“Oh, it’s just the weather and it always gets stuck now. Replacing it would cost-”

“I can fix it. I uh, used to be a contractor.”

“A contractor?” Joel hasn’t talked about his past much before. You know he has a brother, he’s the oldest and that he’s from Texas. Joel carries that

“Did you have to say that with the air of a cowboy in an old movie?”

“I wasn’t aware I did,” he replies, cocking his eyebrow in a way.

“What sort of contractor were you?”

“Building, just the general type.”

“Oh, okay. So you could actually fix the door?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“How do you get from contractor to bouncer?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’d expect so.”

Joel squirms awkwardly. You’ve watched him easily apprehend aggressive gang members shouting the vilest things to Joel and move them outside. You’ve seen him barely blink over ill drunks spilling their souls on his shoes. You’ve seen him so strong and resolute.

He looks at his watch which, for the first time, you notice is broken and then at the ground.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you say, “you don’t need to tell me anymore.”

He keeps coming back, night after night and things start to change. It’s small, a fixed door and then a window catch replaced, the fact the gangs start coming around less. It’s change but the quiet type of change you only discover through previously entrenched routines.

You’ve spent time cataloguing his details, each scar or line, the way he takes his coffee (black, but a two to one ratio of sugar that makes you wince a little). Joel Miller has a sweet tooth.

You’re used to Joel now, you like talking to him in quiet moments in the bar, before or after shifts as he hangs around just a little longer. You tell him about the town, about how it was growing up, he lets it slip he’s from Texas, mentions a brother, Tommy, and you want to unpeel his secrets more and more.

You proudly place the slab of cake in front of him. Rain hammers against the windows and roof, creating great echoes as it sounds like the bar will come down around you. It’s unseasonal, the rain, an omen of quiet days. Today you don’t mind.

“What’s the occasion?” Joel asks, looking at the cake curiously.

“It’s a Wednesday.” You take a bite of your own slice, savouring the flavours, the delicate balance of sponge and icing. If you can say so, it’s a pretty great cake. You really have improved over recent months and while this was experimental, you’re happy with the result.

“Ah. Say no more.”

“Also, congrats, you’ve officially been here for eight and half weeks.”

“I pass probation then?” Joel looks around dubiously, clearly concerned your cousin or others will suddenly pop out in some surprise party or sense of occasion.

“Pretty much passed that by coming back on day two, but that’s my cousin’s domain. I just pour drinks.”

“And provide frozen food to the bouncers.”

“Only the ones who come back. Besides, it’s defrosted. I can take that cake back you know.”

“No, don’t you dare.” Joel takes a large forkful of the cake. “So why the cake though, sweetheart?”

“You, Joel Miller, are officially our longest standing bouncer.” You clap lightly in mock celebration as he cocks an eyebrow in response.

“What an honour,” he replies sardonically.

”You’re welcome.”

“Do I need to make a speech?”

“I think it was the speech that bought the previous record holder down.” Clint had lasted forty-five minutes after that speech. It was a bad night - a particularly nasty gang fight.

“Hubris,” Joel says lightly.

“Exactly.”

“Not bad for a contractor turned bouncer though.”

Joel laughs. “You going to tell me that story one day?” you ask, hoping your teasing expression hides how genuine your question is.

“Maybe,” he says. “You’ve not hit my records yet.”

“That a challenge?”

He shrugs and walks towards the door to ready the bar for opening.

You hand Joel the frozen peas wrapped in an old cloth. After the commotion, your cousin’s closed the bar early. It’s hard to recover the night from a scene like that and you’re pretty sure the broken table and glass amount to some sort of safety violation at the least.

“Thanks,” Joel says gruffly.

“You could have a concussion.”

“I'm fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

Joel looks at his cracked knuckles and raises a finger to the cut on his head, lightly touching it and observing the blood that comes away on his hand. “’m fine.”

“You hit the bar.”

“Standard night on the job.”

“You hit it with your head.”

Joel shrugs, nonchalance and mischief at once.

“How’s the idiot?” Owen had come in with the intention of causing trouble; something about the rival gang, or his girlfriend, or something that would never justify his trail of destruction. Joel had maintained his usual rules; polite, carefully moving Owen outside the bar, even as he tried to fight back. You’re not sure how it went so wrong, how instead of getting Owen outside suddenly there were more of the gang, broken tables and chaos.

It’s been weeks since a night like that. It makes it feel brand new, the hurt starker somehow.

“He needs to go to hospital,” you say, wrapping your jacket around you after you lock the bar door, keys heavy in your hand.

“Oh.”

“He’ll be fine. His friends are taking him. You probably need the hospital too, I’ll drive you.”

“’m fine.”

“You’re not. Get in the damn car, Joel.”

“I’m -”

“The car, Joel. Don’t make me start calling you Miller again.”

Joel holds his hands up and shakes his head. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Excellent,” you say with a sweet smile.

You drive in near silence but once you’re both in the hospital waiting room, he talks. He talks more than he ever usually does.

“I didn't need to come here,” he grumbles.

“Are you on the lam?”

“What?” He asks incredulously.

“You seem reluctant to be in a hospital that takes down personal information. It’s a reasonable question.”

He sighs, pinches between his eyebrows. “No, I’m not on the damn lam. I just - I just don’t like hospitals.”

“I don’t think a lot of people do. I guess it’s an occupational habit with your work.”

“I patch myself up usually. Last time I was in one of these places, it was … I was …”

“Joel, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” You reach for his bloody hand and squeeze, unsure if the blood on it is from his own split knuckles or the fight. The violence of his body contrasts so much with the man you talk to, the friend you’ve made.

“When I told you it was a long story, how I went from a contractor to this … it’s, I don’t know.”

You shift so you can face Joel and try and model your best supportive expression. Joel and you talk about everything now, but he’s guarded and this is the first time he’s volunteered this story to you.

“We can talk about it later.”

“I had a daughter,” he says so quietly that you can barely hear him. “And then I had a chance, a second chance to - but it’s been a mess. I’ve been a mess. I’ve got a lot wrong.”

So much of Joel Miller makes sense to you know and you can understand the sadness that crosses his eyes sometimes, the reluctance to talk about his past.

“Haven’t we all?” You pause. “I’m really sorry about your daughter, Joel.“

“I don’t know how to make it right now though.”

“I think,” you say gently, “all you can do is try. For what it’s worth, you’re making a difference here, you’re making a difference with me.”

“Really?” He glances up at you, suddenly years younger and as you nod a slight smile light up his face briefly.

“Why don’t you tell me about her? If you want to.”

He smiles. “I do, but not tonight, but I will.”

“Joel Miller,” a doctor calls.

“C’mon, you’re up.” You squeeze Joel’s arm before standing up.

The balance has shifted and something’s changed.

The bar changes gradually like the way spring teases itself for weeks. It’s all subtle shifts, blossoms of hope and shoots of a future you didn’t dare think of too much. The bar might survive, your cousin is smiling again.

And then there’s you and Joel. Joel, who still pops in to talk to you even on his days off. Joel, who you sit out with after the bar closes and drink beer and play guitar to the stars.

“You should play here,” he says, taking a sip of his beer, “you’re good.” “You’re better. I can’t play guitar like you.” “Nah. Just had more practice at best. Your voice is pretty, so pretty.” “Oh, I’m not so good at playing. I’m better at singing,” you say. “Four basic chords are about my limit on the guitar.” “Don’t do yourself down.” “Trust me, I’m not.” You pause. ”Joel, you could - you could play with me. If I ever played here. it’s probably stupid.” There’s something unreadable in his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “No, I’d like that.”

You’re accustomed to his presence, his low but grounding voice, his calm demeanour throughout all chaos.

He’s told you more about his past now. About Sarah and how her loss tore him apart for years, and also about the foster daughter he took in, Ellie. He won’t tell you much about Ellie though, except they stopped talking around about the time he became a bouncer. He once asked you if you would do anything to save the life of someone you love and you said yes. He nodded and moved on. You think it’s connected, you’re not sure.

You’ve worked at a bar long enough to know when it’ll be a bad night. There’s an electricity in the air, a tension that is so tight anything could snap it. You look over at Joel to see if he’s picked up on the same energy.

He’s sitting on the stool, observing quietly, but you notice the slight furrow in his brows. He looks at you and his mouth twitches into the smallest of smiles, but there’s anxiety in his eyes.

“I heard that Owen’s gang declared war on the Rattlers,” you say in a low voice. You don’t like Owen, or his friends, but the Rattlers are worst. Owen’s gang is the typical cliched grouping of a small town that’s become lost. They drink too much, throw punches without thinking and cause trouble. They’re not evil though.

The Rattlers are.

“Didn’t hear the Rattlers came through here,” Joel says in a low voice. “I heard of their reputation at a previous gig.”

“Their uh, second in command, is that the term? Anyway, he’s had a thing with someone in town for years. On and off. Guess it’s on again.”

“They cause trouble when they’re here?”

You scoff. “This was starting to feel like -”

“It still is, it still will. Let me do my job,” Joel says firmly.

You want to trust him; you do trust him. It’s the Rattlers that worry you, the feeling in your gut that this hard sought over peace is threatened, the deep and terrifying fear that this bar can never change. Not now. Not even with Joel.

Joel smiles at you, the picture of reassurance. “Owen might not come in here. This is hardly a welcome environment for his group anymore.”

“Joel,” you say nervously, “I just … I have a feeling.”

Joel doesn’t laugh or dismiss you; he straightens up and nods.

You’re not sure how things fall apart so quickly. One moment the bar was quiet, then Owen was there and before Joel could get him to leave, the Rattlers were here too. Maybe it was planned, maybe it was what they all wanted.

“Evening, unfortunately I need to ask you all to leave tonight,” Joel says politely, standing from his barstool. “I’m afraid the business is at capacity and we have a private function on.”

“Well,” Owen begins.

“Leave.”

“Look, Miller, it’s not -”

“I’m not asking, Owen.” Joel’s voice is low, deadly, the tone he uses when polite words fall flat, when it’s time to not be nice. “That goes to all of you.”

Owen falters slightly at the sound of that, you wonder if he remembers how things went the last time Joel used that voice.

“Y’all got a function on?” one of the Rattlers asks you. He’s covered in tattoos and is wearing a leather vest with numerous patches with no other top underneath. You wonder if he based his outfit on the existing tropes, if he’s intentionally as cliched as possible or if it truly is just an unspoken truth now. His hair is slicked back into a ponytail that highlights his receding hairline and a puckered scar that runs from his brow to his nose.

“I’m afraid so, gentlemen. While we, uh appreciate the desire to visit, I’m afraid Mr Miller is correct.“”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. It doesn’t look so-”

“Please,” you say quietly.

For a moment you wonder if it will work, you’re on bated breath as the Rattler steps back and moves to say something to his gang. However, that’s the very moment Owen smashes a chair on his back and hell breaks loose.

“Oh, thank you so fucking much for that,” Joel says in an irritated voice, immediately pulled into action to try and get the situation outside, away from the patrons, from you.

You step backwards, hoping the protection of the bar will be enough.

People are running out of the bar as the chaos unfolds. It’s a flood of sound,

Someone pushes Owen onto the bar, pummelling him as you try and back away. “Please stop,” you say.

Then a flash and searing heat.

That’s when you hear Joel swear, you notice his eyes have darkened, his entire demeanour has changed.

Your vision is blurred by something and you can feel a sharp pain on your face along with something sticky and hot when you touch it.

You shut your eyes, willing the events away and allowing yourself to crouch under the bar and wait for the noises to stop.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

You’re fine.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” a soothing voice says. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise but we do have to close early today.”

There’s a pause, noise around you and then something cool on your face. “I need to see the damage, okay? It’s me, it’s Joel, you’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

You open your eyes to see Joel crouched in front of you. He’s holding a damp cloth that is already soaked in red.

“You’ll need stitches, I’ll drive you.” Joel moves your head gently and nods. “Your eye looks okay; can you see normally?”

“Yeah. What happened?”

”Fucking - it was Owen, he grabbed a glass from the bar and instead of hitting the rattler - ”

“Got me.”

“Yeah. It’s deep but um ‘”

“I’ll live. I’m okay. Don’t need hospital.”

“Huh, you trying to prove a point here? How annoyin’ it is when someone who needs hospital won’t go?”

”It’s fine, Joel.”

“You’re hurt,” he says and he looks disappointed.

You feel a burst of shame, you should have defended yourself better.

“I’m going to call your cousin and tell her what happened and then I’m driving you to hospital. No arguments, okay?”

You try and smile weakly in acquiescence which seems to only make Joel frown more.

His hand lingers on your shoulder slightly as he hands you the seatbelt after bundling you into his truck. He moved quickly, closing the bar, making a hushed call in the corner to your cousin and then immediately guiding you out, a clean cloth placed in your hands to hold against your cut.

There’s a nodding dog ornament on the dash, something that doesn’t seem like Joel at all.

“Ellie,” he says quietly as he notices you looking at it. “Keep the pressure on that wound, okay?”

He turns out of the bar.

“Didn’t seem your sort of ornament,” you reply placidly.

“She called it Ernie, I - that kid.” Joel sighs heavily.

“You could call her,” you say, braver in the wake of your injury.

“I would. But she doesn’t want to hear from me, trust me.” He mumbles something else you can’t make out.

“You’re a good person, Joel. She -”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” you say, “trust me, I know bad men, but you aren’t one of them. Owen? The Rattlers?”

“The bar’s pretty damn low there.”

“You know the town I live in.”

Joel chuckles mirthlessly.

“I was going to play tonight,” you say quietly, “I thought it was time. That’ll teach me.”

“You could still play, maybe tomorrow though.”

“It would be harder with the blood right now.”

“Just a tad.”

“Thanks for driving me.”

“Of course.”

You wonder if he’s trying to return a favour, whether he’s the sort of person who just can’t feel indebted to someone else. Now you’ve bled on his car too, now you’re even?

He looked worried though. You think about the way he sounded too, the forced calmness when he checked on you.

You’re friends.

That’s normal, right?

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly. “You shouldn’t have got hurt.”

“Joel, it’s … you can’t be everywhere at once. It’s not on you.”

“I should have -”

“Miller,” you say sharply, “it’s not on you. Not one bit. Do you think I can bar Owen for good now?”

Joel chuckles. “Yeah, I reckon so.

“Good, well that’s something, isn’t it? Almost makes it worth it. Do you think it will scar?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.”

You pause. It’s vanity, you know, but the idea of this leaving a permanent scar on your face hurts worse than the injury itself.

“That’s not ideal. I-it’s stupid.” It feels so foolish to be worried about a scar when things could be so much worse, for your own vanity to say ‘well, now, you’ll never make it as a musician or star’ or to focus on your looks. It’s normal, it’s human, but it makes you feel guilty.

Joel looks at you carefully and he places a warm, solid hand on your hand that is not holding a compress to your face. “You’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” he says in a low voice. “This won’t change that. It couldn’t, okay?”

No-one calls you beautiful. There’s been half-hearted claims of your ‘hotness’ with exes, of your friends’ encouragement when you make a particular effort in your appearance, but nothing like this. Nothing that feels this sincere either.

He takes his hand away as the doctor joins you. You can feel the heat lingering like butterflies as the doctor attends to your wound.

Joel stays with you the whole time.

You hear the guitar before you can see him. Soft, melodic chords that reach a crescendo as you walk closer to the small cabin style house he’s renting. You’re not sure if it’s a complete betrayal of the trust from when you dropped him off after his hospital trip weeks ago, but you need to see him outside of the bar.

“Hey,” he says in surprise when he sees you. He places the guitar carefully down before standing up to greet you.

“I’m sorry to just turn up, I hope it’s okay.” You awkwardly clasp your hands and wring them together. “I was passing through and I thought - I thought I’d say hi.”

This is a complete lie; you are not passing through at all.

You’re wearing your favourite outfit and you sprayed an extra two spritzes of your best perfume on this morning. In fact, you have made considerable effort when you think about all of this.

“No, it’s great. I’m happy you stopped by.”

“You’re good. The guitar, it was … really good. I’ve not heard you play that before.”

“Oh, it’s just something I’ve been working on.”

“It’s really good.”

“Nah, not really.”

You frown, hands on your hips and he raises his own hands in defence.

“Can I - do you want a drink?” Joel indicates inside the cabin and you nod enthusiastically.

“That would be great, thanks Joel.”

There are three cabins in the area that a local businessman rents out. Joel’s cabin is the closest to the woods, the one that’s slightly hidden away. Inside it looks like a typical rental; the slightly shabby furniture and neutral demeanour that feels void of any character, the aged kitchen stove and units, an abundance of wood furniture.

There are touches of Joel too though. There’s a vinyl player and box of records on the coffee table, a plaid blanket over the sofa and a couple of photos on the fireplace mantle. You think they might be Sarah, maybe Ellie, but you don’t want to pry.

This changes things. It’s not the bar, neither of you are at work, or hanging out outside after a shift. This feels more personal, more intimate. This is Joel Miller, the real Joel, the one you can’t hide your feelings for now.

You do have feelings for Joel.

It’s funny, when he started you wanted to keep him at a distance because you expected him to leave like everyone else, you thought the bar was beyond help. You wondered if you were beyond your dreams. He’s helping bring you back though.

It’s his calm demeanour, the wry expressions and dry humour, his plaid shirts and the way when he smiles, which is rare but you’ve seen it, his whole face softens and lightens up. It’s electric.

You think about him all the time; reading articles you try and remember to bring up at the bar, when you hear a song he’d like. Joel’s found his way into your life and you don’t want to let him go.

He’ll leave though. The bouncers inevitably do, most people in your life do. You just don’t want that with him. You want him to stay.

“Are you okay?” Joel asks.

“Why?”

“You have that serious thought face on.”

“I have a serious thought face?”

Joel scoffs. “So, what’s up?”

“I just - I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here.”

Joel frowns then. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, c’mon I said I’d get you a drink, right?” Joel indicates the sturdy wooden table and you sit obligingly. “So I’ve got a choice of tea, well It says it’s tea anyway. Uh, some whiskey, beer, water …. I’m out of coffee.”

“That should be illegal.”

“Shouldn’t it?”

“I might just leave now.”

“Wouldn’t blame ya.”

He’s close to you now and you feel emboldened by the fact you’re here, you’re with him and he’s not pushing you away or looking like he wants to leave. Maybe, just maybe this is a great idea.

“Now I think about it though, I’m not sure that I’m thirsty after all,” you say boldly.

“Oh no?” He leans in closer, hands hovering just over your waist. “Look, you don’t want -”

“I do. I do want.”

Joel swallows. “Really?” He’s looking at you as though you’re something mythical, something intangible he could lose at any second. There’s reverence in his eyes and it’s overwhelming and beautiful at once.

You nod. “I’m not the only one here who - I’m not though, right?” There’s a hint of nervousness in your voice now, a sense that perhaps this isn’t the great idea you thought it was just seconds ago. It’s like whiplash. This is why you should just focus on music instead.

“No,” Joel says softly, “you’re not.”

His hands, hands you’ve seen both acts of violence and hold your injured face so gently, skim your body. Joel’s hands, like him, are contradictions. He steps minutely closer, a little more into your space and oh so welcome.

He smells like soap and coffee, with the faint hints of autumn you noticed around the cabin and there’s something magic in this Joel Miller. Something in every sense of him, the way he touches you, the sound of his voice, the feel of his skin and sound of his voice that instantly draws you closer, that makes heat pool in your stomach.

He kisses you and you reach for his hands, entwines them together. He stops, concern mounting over his face. “You’re injured, I should have -”

“Doesn’t hurt,” you say softly, drawing him close again.

You’re a mess of hands and lips, a clash of sensations and finally, finally this is happening you think as h guides you further into the cabin. Towards his bedroom.

He guides you past the kitchenette, down the narrow corridor to his room.

You want to drink him in, absorb every detail of his body and commit it to memory.

There’s a ragged scar on his abdomen, a light scattering of stories across his body from other bars, other jobs, other Joels.

There are other details you want to remember though, especially the look in his eyes right now, heavy with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. You’ve heard the words before in similar settings but it’s been clear to you it’s the lust, it’s the ‘right’ thing to say. You know when isn’t meant, the lack sincerity signalling a paint by the numbers dalliance at best.

Joel’s voice is fervent though. Honest. He means this.

The majority of your clothes are soon discarded, both yours and his in a combined mess on the floor.

Your hands are running through his hair as he guides you onto the bed, as his fingers hover over the edge of your underwear.

He pauses, just for a moment. You wonder if it’s recognition of the line you’re both about to cross, if it’s to give you the space to confirm that yes, you still want him, to offer an out just in case.

You reach for his face, run your hand down his stubbly cheek. You’re trying to sum up your thoughts, to bring everything you want to say together into a neat sentence.

You smile and gently say, “I want you, want this. I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t think you’d want me. Been driving myself crazy thinkin’ about you lately.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you show me what you thought about?” you ask.

He smiles as his fingers finally reach beneath your underwear, carefully pulling them down and then gently gliding his finger.

You’re wet, almost embarrassingly so, you think, for just making out.

“This all for me?” He asks with a devilishly teasing tone.

You don’t immediately answer, just smirk as he teases up to your clit and traces circles around it, smiling as you finally make a groan of contentment.

He slides a finger inside you, lazily moving it within you, finding that spot that makes you moan, adding another finger.

You feel close already, but he withdraws his fingers and then, looking at you, brings them to his mouth one at a time in a move that makes your cheeks heat up.

He moves to his bedside drawer, fumbling for a box of condoms you suppose. You’re still lost in catching your breath, in replaying the last few moments, in anticipating what’s about to happen.

He kisses you before positioning himself and you ready yourself for him.

You’re entwined, adjusting yourself for the feel of him, the weight of him. Hands interlocked with his as he finally moves, as he meets your kiss once again.

He adapts quickly, noticing micro=movements or sounds and changing his rhythm to draw every one of them out, to bring you to the edge once more.

You’re both a mess of rushed breaths, a chorus of names and gasps, ebbing and flowing to tease each other apart.

He’s everything and nothing like you expected. Hoped for even.

The feeling builds in your stomach, the rush of pleasure building almost unbearably.

Finally, finally you get your release. The ripples of pleasure ride through your body as the two of you lie together, boneless, catching your breath.

You usually feel a need to say something, to fill a silence, but it’s comfortable. You roll over, daringly placing an arm over Joel’s chest and leaning close. He pulls you towards you, kissing your brow lazily

You can feel his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin.

You feel like you could stay here forever.

Instead though, you’re practical. You excuse yourself to his bathroom to clean up.

You take in your reflection; the telltale signs of your exploits feel so visible to you as you freshen up.

He’s not in bed when you return. You pull your clothes on and head back into the main room of the cabin.

Joel’s wearing his jeans and not much else, humming as he concentrates on something by the stove.

“I promised tea, didn’t I?”

“We did get sidetracked.”

“Well, that was welcome,” Joel says. His voice is so much softer than you’ve heard it in the bar. There’s a vulnerability leaking through with each moment you stay here. It’s two sided, you can feel your own edges softening, a desire to open yourself even more to the man in front of you.

“I agree.”

The kettle boils and you watch Joel making the tea, try and not lose yourself in the broadness of his shoulders.

“So …” you break off, swinging your arms nervously and then wrapping them around yourself.

Joel hands you a steaming mug. “So,” he says. His voice is calm though, relaxed and somehow that helps.

“That wasn’t exactly ”

“Would you have been wearing a trench coat?”

“That a fantasy or something, Joel?”

He laughs. “Maybe, maybe it is.”

“Okay then. Logging that for another day.”

“Oh really?” Joel’s smile warms his entire face, it softens each feature and it’s something you never want to stop seeing.

It feels like you’ve known him so much longer. You feel comfortable in his house, you feel comfortable around him.

“So we’re opening back up at the weekend,” you say, “Got any plans for this time off?”

“Nope. You?”

You shake your head. “How about that?”

“Hmm, that’s not right. We should do something about that. Let me take you to dinner?”

“Dinner?“

“People still do that, right?”

“Yes, but - I’d love to.”

“Great. I’ll uh, defer to your recommendation, seeing as you know this area more.” It hits you then. Joel doesn’t have roots here and the bar, except for the Rattlers, has improved. What does this town, what do you have to offer?

“Are you going to leave?” you ask suddenly, the anxious thought you’ve tried to suppress bubbling to the surface.

“Leave?”

“When the bar’s open, when there’s no trouble.”

“There’s always some trouble.”

“Don’t. You know what I mean.”

Joel sighs and takes a sip of his drink. “Usually, I would.”

“But this isn’t usual?”

He points his hand at you and adds, “I don’t make a habit of this. I don’t …. Usually, yes I go in and out of places and I don’t stay long.”

Your heart sinks. “I understand,” you lie.

“I think, I think maybe there are some reasons to stick around here though?” It’s a question, not a confirmation. It strikes you then that maybe Joel feels just as exposed as you do.

“I think there could be,” you say.

“Good. I’m glad.“

The bar looks like the Rattlers never came through here. Everything is neat, clean and in its place. There are no broken chairs or tables. It seems almost impossible for how short a time ago it was.

Joel helped, you realise, he helped your cousin bring this place back.

“Are you okay?” she asks, “I can cover the bar if you need -”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure.”

You pause and run your hand over the smooth, clean bar surface. You think of Joel, of the conversations over so many nights about music, about what makes you happy. “Can you still cover the bar for a bit?”

“Sure.” Your cousin pauses and hesitantly puts down the crate of soda bottles. “Is everything -”

“I want to play tonight.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to stop waiting right for the right moment, right? Just do it,” you say.

“And this has nothing to do with a certain bouncer?”

“No,” you say, thinking of the scar on your face, the battles you’ve won and will win in the future. “It’s for me.”

You can feel his eyes on you. It doesn’t make you feel nervous or under a spotlight though as you carefully sit on the stool.

It’s almost as though it’s just the two of you. Another night after work under the stars and messing around with a guitar. Or outside his cabin, thick flannel wrapped around you as you both play.

The bar feels safer somehow. It’s funny considering the recent Rattlers attack. Maybe that’s why - they came in and they tried to wreck the place, you were caught in that crossfire, but you survived. The bar survived. And the locals are back, the locals you wanted back. If you shut your eyes, it almost feels like before when your family ran the place.

It’s different though, because it’s your cousins. Because even though it might not be on paper, it’s yours too. Your legacy. You don’t want to fight it anymore. You don’t want to feel cynical about this town.

You look at Joel and smile and then you start playing.

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed@pedrostories@hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[amourtoken]

as promised, here's a lil expansion on the body mod shop idea that's now a series lol

Piercer Noah x apprentice reader <3

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: same as nick there's a lil age gap between you guys (legal, don't be fucking gross), oral fixation, needles (he's a piercer ok), praise, soft dom Noah, glove kink if u squint, raw sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), much less toxic than the tattoo fic but still could technically be a toxic relationship due to the nature, nipple play, size kink if u squint harder, subspace moments

♡ to keep things relatively simple js gonna bounce off the same idea from the nicholas post. You're the shop owners daughter in this case. Noah had absolutely no problem apprenticing you, in fact he was honored because he was relatively new to the scene compared to other people at the shop and felt pretty proud that he was viewed as someone talented enough to learn from.

♡ he tries to not be an asshole, but can be kinda short if he's rlly busy and needs you multitasking. He always apologizes afterwards though if he's had an attitude with you cause he's a fucking sweetheart I need him so baD

♡ literally so fucking easy to be around, he thanks you profusely whenever you finish a task he's assigned you to and a lot of times when you're both not too busy you'll just sit and talk or joke abt things and his smile lights a bonfire in your stomach cause it's so fucking perfect.

♡ the longer you spent with him the more tense things became very quickly. It started off pretty small though. If you were standing in his way he'd gently set his hands on your hips from behind when he passed you for a moment, he started calling you little nicknames like honey, sweetheart, angel, ect. Eye contact lingered a little longer than it should've. Oh god.

♡ everything kinda came to a peak during one of your actual training days.

♡ Noah had planned on teaching you some new techniques and general anatomy things, kicking it off with watching him do a few surface piercings on clients but later in the day you got to watch him do a tongue piercing and afterwards got onto the topic of how you could never get one cause of how painful it looked. Ofc Noah went into his typical "It's not that bad, you can handle it!" Spiel.

"I'll do one free right now if you want. Just to show you it's not bad."

"C'mon, I had one for a while! It's quick."

"I promise I'll take care of you, won't hurt too bad."

♡ he was giving you the biggest puppy eyes and you couldn't say no. You weren't usually the one to be in the chair but now that you were, the nerves were getting to you. Noah was nearly bouncing around setting everything up, you were happy he was excited but the idea of a giant needle jamming through your tongue wasn't necessarily pleasant. Biting it hurts so fucking bad how does this not hurt? Was he just lying to make you feel better?

♡ once everything was set up Noah turned back to you, handing you a tiny mouthwash cup.

"Swish this. Can't clean your tongue like you do for surface piercings so this is the go to."

♡ he was basically staring at you the whole time, only breaking contact to grab some gloves. This wasn't helpful, your stomach was already in your throat so butterflies filling the expanse of your chest was a little worse than usual. Just before everything actually started, it caught on to him that you were genuinely nervous. He sat a gloved hand on your thigh to try and ease your nerves but you swore you'd pass out at the action. His hand took up most of your thigh, he was too close, your heart was already racing and him being in your space was only making it worse.

♡ you were staring up into his pretty brown eyes like a scared puppy and he could feel you nearly trembling under his hand. Were you really that nervous for a piercing? It can't be just that. You looked so pretty from this angle though...he could practically feel the heat radiating off of your body too.

♡ the hand on your thigh gave a gentle squeeze and it drew an involuntary whine from your throat. He had you fuckin hooked now, it made sense.

"Relax, I promise I'll take care of you. You trust me?"

"You trust me, sweetheart?"

♡ his free hand cupped your jaw, running his thumb across your bottom lip as he stared down at you with a half lidded expression. His presence made your brain feel fuzzy and not like any other time, this time he was drowning every sense you had and you felt like you were under an actual spell. You'd do anything for him, you trusted him. This fuzzy head space also threw out all of your typical hesitation, ready to comply to any instruction from him.

♡ the thumb on your lips turned to two of his long gloved fingers pressing down on your tongue and getting fucked down your throat. The hand on your thigh had moved up to tangle in your hair, keeping your head tilted back to give him a good view of how your pretty lips looked wrapped around his fingers and how messy you made them. He huffed a laugh when he pushed his fingers a little too far, gagging you on them before pulling them out entirely.

"If you can't handle my fingers how do you expect to handle my cock, hm?"

"so messy...look so pretty like this..."

"should've told me how you felt earlier, I could've been making you feel this good weeks ago."

"I'll let you have something else in your mouth if you say please, baby"

♡ funny how you were supposed to be getting pierced but completely skipped it to find out your mentor can send you directly into subspace with damn near no effort. Wonderful.

♡ this wasn't the only instance of you two getting into it while you're supposed to be training though. A week or so after the first time you were in his chair again, this time he came up with the excuse to talk about ripple piercing anatomy but again it ended completely different. Your head was leaned back against the uncomfortable piercing chair while he stood over you, fingers teasing and flicking at your overly sensitive nipples.

"So whiny, maybe you need my fingers down your throat again to keep you quiet."

♡ he leaned down to fucking cover your chest in love bites and hickeys, laving his tongue over your nipples when he had a chance. He loved seeing his mark on you.

♡ he really couldn't help himself you just looked so pretty and pliant for him :((( he ended up fucking you in his chair, lifting your legs over his shoulders and using your size difference to his advantage to basically fold you in half under him. He was so fucking big you couldn't help the little tears that pricked at the corners of your vision from the stretch of him.

"Awe, pretty baby...can't handle it? I'll go slow at first, promise."

"So tight for me- feels so fuckin' good"

"Pretty lil' pussy was made for my cock, wasn't it? You're all mine."

♡ Noah held a large hand over your mouth tightly while he fucked into you, trying his best to keep you quiet. He'd hate for the two of you to be found out and this whole arrangement be ruined. You yelped against his hand when he slammed into you balls deep and ground his hips against yours as he came. He stood back to watch himself drip out of you afterwards and used two fingers to fuck his cum back into you.

"Don't wanna waste any- unless you wanna suck it off my fingers."

♡ this turned into a pretty regular occurrence. You were spending 99% of your time with him, even when you weren't training you'd come in just to spend time with him or bring him snacks/energy drinks to help him during his shift. He'd spend his breaks with you in his lap, his big hands on your hips while you littered kisses across his neck and ground your hips into his. You started wearing skirts more often for easy access since you two couldn't go a day without at least a quickie between clients.

Ill write more I'm just exhausted rn and so uncreative lol I slept none yesterday but I still need this man CARNALLY.

[teojira]

I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[nhlclover]

𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

word count: 1.84k

summary: after will sees you at a party, he can't get you out of his head despite not knowing your name

warnings: one curse word, descriptions of reader having auburn hair

notes: based on 'i don't even know your name' by shawn mendes. after he came out with noah kahan in toronto, i've been listening to shawn's old albums non-stop.

The music thumped from inside the house, slightly muted to Will and the other patrons in the backyard. The warm glow of string lights overhead illuminated the scene, casting a soft, inviting ambiance over the backyard. Will lined up the shot, raising his arm and tossing the ping pong ball towards the cups at the other end of the table. The ball bounced off the rim of a red solo cup and onto the grass below.

“You are so bad at this, man.” Ryan groaned.

“Fuck off dude.” Will retorted.

Will didn’t want to be at this party if he was being honest. He had a paper to finish and a project to work on. If it wasn’t for Gabe practically guilt-tripping him into coming, Will would be sitting comfortably in their dorm and, if he was being honest with himself, he would probably be playing video games instead of doing his homework.

Gabe and the rest of the guys knew he didn’t want to be there so they goaded him into playing beer pong, hoping that by the end of the first round, they’d have convinced him to stay. However, now nearing the end of the game, Will was anticipating the moment he got to leave. Standing in the backyard, amongst the smokers and those watching their game of pong, Will truly wanted to leave.

“Will, you’re up,” Jacob said, pulling Will from his brief daze. He looked down at the table, noticing that Ryan had gotten them one cup away from a win, which would allow Will to go home.

Will lined up the shot, taking this one more seriously than any past shot. He steadied his hand, aiming for the sole plastic cup at the back of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Will spotted the sliding door open. His eyes flicked over to the entrance, stopping on your figure as you emerged into the dimly lit backyard. The soft glow of string lights illuminated your silhouette as you stepped onto the back porch, casting a gentle halo around you.

Will's hand paused in mid-air, the ping-pong ball balanced precariously on his fingertips. Gabe, Ryan, and Jacob groaned in frustration.

"What's wrong with you, Will? Take the shot!" Ryan groaned.

Will blinked, tearing his eyes away from the allure of the girl on the porch. “Sorry…just thought I saw something.”

The boys followed Will’s unwavering gaze to the porch, immediately spotting what had captured his attention. “That’ll make him want to stay.” Jacob said under his breath.

“Go talk to her.” Gabe said.

Ryan shook his head, clamping a hand on Will's shoulder. “No, no. Don’t try and get out of this right before Smitty and I are about to win.” Ryan said. “Finish the game first, then he can go flirt.”

“You’re robbing him of a chance at love.” Gabe challenged. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about being on the verge of losing in beer pong to Ryan who he knew would be bragging the whole night due to his ever-competitive spirit. However, he also really wanted to witness his friend attempt to chat up a girl.

“He can go talk to her after we win!” Ryan said.

Will cast another glance back at you on the porch, watching the shadows dance across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones and the delicate arc of your smile. You seemed to be in deep conversation with a few other girls, giving Will peace of mind that he could quickly make the shot and then go talk to the pretty girl who had completely hijacked his attention.

However, with said attention now split, when Will took his shot he completely airmailed it. The game continued, Will casting occasional glances at you, relief washing over him when you remained on the porch. His turn came once again, this time putting his complete focus on the shot. With a flick of his wrist, Will sent the ball through the air, landing in the cup before Gabe or Jacob could attempt to interfere. Ryan pulled Will in, jumping with the blond nestled under his arm. When Ryan was done with his over-the-top celebrating, Will shoved him off.

“Can I go now?” He asks his friends.

Ryan rolls his eyes, while Gabe and Jacob wave him off, encouraging their friend to talk to the girl who had captured his attention. However, when Will turned to look at you, his eyes came up empty. You had disappeared from where Will had last seen you. He scanned the rest of the backyard in hopes that you had ventured further, however, Will’s heart sank as that was also futile.

He moved inside, searching the kitchen, then the living room for your presence. Or even the presence of your friends who could potentially tell him where you were. Despite his efforts, he found no one. Not you, not your friends. Will returned to the backyard, a sense of defeat washing over him. Will found his friends in another round of beer pong, this time with a girl having taken his spot as Ryan’s teammate.

Will stood next to the table, watching as Ryan guided the girl's arm, aiding her in making a shot. “She’s gone.” Will told them, voice tinged with disappointment.

Gabe exchanged a sympathetic look with Jacob before coming over and patting Will on the back. "Sorry, man,” Gabe said, sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll see her around?”

Will could only shrug, feeling as though he wasn’t going to. Regret gnawed at him, as well as a slight sense of resentment towards Ryan, as he couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve been if he had seized the moment when he had the chance.

Weeks passed since the party and Will was genuinely considering checking himself into a psych ward over you. Ever since the first glimpse, you’d woven yourself into the fabric of Will’s thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to shake you from his mind. Will was genuinely baffled at the way you’d become a constant presence in his mind. He’d always prided himself on being a fairly level-headed and rational guy, especially on the ice. However, he now found himself fixated on a girl he had only seen briefly.

He didn’t even know your name.

Will felt as though he had to find you, had to unravel the mystery of who you were and why you had such a powerful hold over him. There’d been several times when Will thought he’d seen you. Where he caught a glimpse of auburn locks and nearly ran up to them thinking it was you. But it never was.

During an away game in Maine, he thought he saw you. He spotted a cascade of auburn hair amidst the crowd and nearly completely abandoned the play at hand to get another glimpse. When Will brought it up to his linemates during the intermission, they could only laugh at his suggestion, reminding him of the miles between them and the sheer impossibility of you being there.

Will tried his best to push the idea of you from his mind, trying to force himself to move on and forget about the girl whom he’d decidedly conjured up in his mind. Will fully focused his mind on hockey and schoolwork, which is how he found himself in the library for the first time. He wandered the rows of tables, trying to find a relatively empty spot that he could settle into and work on his assignments.

Will’s eye briefly caught a glimpse of auburn hair but didn’t pay much mind to it. Every other time he’d believed he’d seen you, it turned out to be a doppelganger. But upon a second glance, he couldn’t believe it. He blinked, almost convinced that his bogged-down mind had conjured up the image of you. But as he took a closer look, Will realized it was indeed you—your hair cascading down her shoulders, the exact smile he’d seen on your face that night was back on your lips as you talked with your friends.

Will’s heart race quickened in his chest, the sound loud in his ears. As Will contemplates approaching you, a sudden realization washes over him that he hasn’t thought about what he’d say to you. In his mind, Will envisioned countless scenarios where your paths intersected, where your eyes met, and conversation flowed effortlessly. But in none of these dreams did he consider the stark reality of the moment where he would admit his feelings without the safety net of prepared words. Will grapples with the scenario, knowing that every second of hesitation is a missed opportunity. He can’t wait like he did last time.

Will finds his feet carrying himself in your direction before he knows it. Every last ounce of courage was summoned as he approached you. Will stops at the end of your table, yours as well as your friends' attentions turning to the blond.

"Um, hi," he started, his voice betraying the nervousness he felt. Your eyes, however, were soft as you waited for the blond to continue. "I couldn't help but notice… you seem familiar. Have we met before?"

That was a lie, obviously. Will knew they’d never interacted. But it was his sole attempt at making his presence seem natural. Your lips quirked into a small smile, and he felt a surge of relief at her response. "I don't think so," you replied, your voice soft and melodic. "I'm y/n."

Will’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your name, a name he had longed to know since the moment he first saw you. "I'm Will," he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Will," you said, returning his smile. There was something about the way you said his name that sent a shiver down his spine.

Emboldened by your friendly demeanour, he decided to take a leap of faith. "Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime? Maybe we could… catch up on all the times we haven't met before," he added with a sheepish grin, hoping his attempt at humour would lighten the mood.

Your smile widened, and a playful glint danced in your eyes, appreciating the boldness of the boy who’d approached you. "I'd like that, Will," you said. "How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"That sounds perfect," he said, unable to contain the grin that spread across his face.

As you exchanged contact information, Will couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within him. Will said goodbye to you, as well as your friends that he’d, in all honesty, had forgotten were there. As Will walked away from your table, his heart felt like it was doing cartwheels in his chest. He couldn't believe what just happened — finally mustering the courage to approach you, and to his amazement, you were even more captivating up close. Will walked off, exhilaration coursing through his veins. So much so that he left the library and forgone his pending assignments, excited that he now knew your name.

[starsomens]

I'm sorry if you're not taking these type of requests or any at all, but I had a thought...

So imagine, after you and noah made one more sex tape and you're editing it he gets so turned on by watching you guys fuck, how hot you looked and how well he fucked you that he wants to fuck you right there and then.

And after ,you're just finishing editing, and you're cockwarming him for the rest of the time it takes to have a half decent tape :)

Obviously, he is a perfectionist. He'll finish the rest by himself until it looks like a movie ( playing with himself along the way because he just can't resist how beautiful you looked taking him)

Thank yooou

Kisses for you 😘 😘😘😘🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Note: I....ANON! I don't know where yall be storing these stories, it amazes me to no end!

Warnings: SEX! Unprotect PIV (protection first!!), dirty talk, creampie, rough-ish sex, recording, watching your own sex tape, masturbating, slight somnophilia (masterbating while reader is asleep),

You open the door to your room and go right to your boyfriend who sat in front of his computer. You open your bottle of water and take a seat in his lap, after taking a few gulps you off him but he declines. You set the bottle down and lean on his chest watching his computer screen. What was he doing? Well you were currently watching him edit your sex tape. After the first time you made one it kind of became a habit. The tapes became longer, the editing started taking place, and of course more rounds came when editing or watching.

"I like that shot," you said pointing to the screen "You make a good camera man babe" you compliment. The shot was set up at the corner of you bed, filming you in a low doggy position. Noah's arms caging you in, his body low to your own as he thrusted into you. The thrusts werea bit shallow but they were strong and felt amazing. You were able to see Noah fucking you so nicely, and your face while he did so

"Yeah I like it too, look how well you're taking me," he rewinds to the start of that segment to when he first pushes in "I also noticed how your eyes roll back whenever I put it in" he chuckles. Another thing he loves about sex tapes he can visible see what your body reacts to the best.

He lets the segment play to review the edits he made, the sounds of your moans and his grunts leak from the speakers. The slushes of your juices being pumped in and out of you only added to the erotic scene. Noah feels you wiggle in his lap as you watch the screen intently. He leans into yoru ear and whispers

"Like what you see princess?"

"mmmmm" you couldn't help it! At first it was a bit strange to watch yourself get fucked but after some time, to becomes unbearably arousing. Noah's hand trails down to your pussy and rubs over the fabric of your panties, Luckly you only had on one of his shirts. He could feel how hard he was getting the longer he watched.

"Tell me princess, tell me what you want" he asks as he grinds upwards against your ass. His breath becoming heavy against your neck as his digits dip into your aching pussy. His fingers dragging in and out against your sweet spot, your legs spread to allow him more access.

"Mmm I want...your dick," you moan as you grind against his hand, your moans nearly syncing with the ones on the screen.

"Use your manners princess," he kisses your skin as his other hand begins to slip his hard cock out of his underwear.

"P-please!" you nearly beg as you can feel your juices start to drip out on to his fingers

"Good girl....so good for me," he slips his fingers out and licks up your slick juices. His hands find your thighs and adjusts you on his lap, you hover over his dick, as he aligns himself with your entrance.

"Now, sit on my dick like a good little slut," you whimper as you sit down on his hard cock. You were still a little sensitive from how you were just an hour ago. You let yourself slide all the way down, his cock stretching and filling you to the brim

"OH...fuck...." "shit," you both moan out, you back arching away from Noah. Noah hits play on his computer and spanks the side of your ass

"Come on princess, fuck yourself on daddy's dick," you start to rock your hips in circles, making sure to push back a little extra for him to see. He lifts up the shirt you wore up and over your head. His large hand comes down and strikes your skin and grabs at it "yeah baby...just like that..." he watches as your hips bounce up and down his cock. He spreads your ass to watch more clearly.

"Fuck Noah....fuck so good!" you moan

"Mhm, that's right princess...tell me how good you feel..." he leans back to watch your ride his cock biting his lip hearing your whimpers and moans "I know baby, I know."

" 'S...so good! You're so....big...so fucking....good!" you lean foreword allowing more pressure against your g-spot. His arm wraps around your hip, and his slender fingers rub at your sensitive bundle. His lips kissed up your back as he rubbed with more pressure

"Good girl....good fucking girl....make yourself cum baby" he licks and bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, holding the skin between his teeth enough to cause you please. Feeling you tighten around him as you hear yourselves finish on the screen.

"Have I ever...told you...you sound like a goddess when you cum?" he chuckles into your neck "Could cum just from it...." he thrusts half way to meet your hips as your moans become louder and your breather sharper

"That's it baby..." he whispers in your ear "let me hear it again" like a prayer being answered you cum again with goosebumps covering your skin as the tremor overtakes your body. You ride him slower and slower riding out both of your highs

He could feel the mix of your cum and his rolls down on to his lap as you pulse around him "making such a mess baby, such a pretty messy pussy" you carefully stand up and whine as you feel him slip out of you leaving your empty. His kisses just above your hip and gives a gentle slap to your pussy

"Why don't you get the shower started, I'll meet you in there" his round brown eyes looking up at you as he tucks himself back into his shorts and takes a deep breath. He saves his progress on his editing and gets up from his chair to go and wash up with you in the shower.

.....

"mmm babbeee..." you roll over in bed and cringe at the light in the room from Noah's computer "come to bed" you muffled against the blanket cracking one eye to look at Noah. He spins in his chair and tilts his head

"I'm almost done angel, 10 more minuets and I'm there" he whispers to you, you simply hum and just close your eyes again. He spins back to his screen and observes the last clip to be edited. This time you were holding the camera and Noah was laying his stomach between your legs. To some this may only be arousing to women, but he loved videos of him eating you out. He's able to recall your taste, your smell, the wetness, the texture and of course the way you'd pull on his hair when he hit just the right spot.

"..oh fuck....yes noah fuck...." he hears your quiet whispers as he watches himself lap at your pussy. His shorts had gotten tighter from just the few seconds he watched, looking over to you, he felt a bit guilty...but damn this was hot. He brings himself out for one last round before his night ends and starts to pump his shaft slowly but surely.

Precum leaking from his tip and giving himself some lubrication to work with. He takes deep breaths as he watches the screen, you legs snapped against his head only for him to pin them down to the bed. He tries to keep his panting to a minimum, not wanting you to wake up and see what state he was in. He looked over his shoulder and stared at you as he slept. Peacefully me now knowing the sinful acts, he was committing just a few feet away from you.

Each curve in detail of your face, how peaceful you looked, the way your lips were slightly parted as you snore in your slumber. Just seeing your gorgeous face made him twitch his fist. The low volume of your moans and breathing brings him back to the screen. He grabs his phone and opens his camera. He knew tours to be difficult, especially when they were more than just a couple of months. He always records a few videos for you or he had to leave on his next one. Just so you can have fresh content before he leaves.

His hips start to buck and thrust up into his hand as you writhe under his hold. He fucks his fist faster and faster as he finally cums. The thick liquid coming up in small spurts as he rises out his high. He knew you loved when he came on video with his moans of course.

Grabbing some tissue he cleans himself up, saves his final edits for the video. He shows the computer down and pushes away from his desk. He crawled into bed behind you and pulls you into his body. He kisses the back of your head and snuggles into you for the night.

Little did he know that you saw the entire thing and you were sure to tease him about it in the morning. ;)

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @leneisdown @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547 @itsmrsfuentes @just-pretend-again @lma1986 @daylightlvrs @darling-millicent-aubrey

[leviathanofdeath]

rotb spoilers

watched it again. need to talk about Mirage.

im thinking abt how Mirage was peeping in on Noah's brothers room . he was just curiously watching them, trying to be sneaky but accidently crushing the car under him (of course cuz he is huge) and then accidentally smacking his head on a rail, causing his lights to turn on. very silly typical Mirage thing. He really went home with Noah and then instead of staying put he wanted to see what Noah was up to ♡ and then him promising Kris that he'll protect Noah no matter what, even receiving a walkie talkie to make sure. I fucking love that shit. even before Noah got in the car, Mirage was fucking with him by continously locking the car door. you cannot tell me its not love at first sight GRAHHH

Mirage defending Noah in front of everyone. explaining that he already likes Noah just from the little cop car chase, and that he thinks the human is cool! I love how attached he already became. and him saying "I cross my spark, hope to die" and realizing how cheesy it sounded. literally Gold

And i noticed that Mirage is always near Noah. Hes always close to him in some way. Whether it be in his garage, outside his apartment, walking/standing next to Noah, giving him the little gauntlet thingy so they can at least communicate and Noah can protect himself. They're always together, and hes always keeping his promise. hes so dedicated to protecting Noah.

the death scene. Mirage confidently saying hes going to deal with Scourge while Noah and Elena go to enter the code, even tho he knows he isn't going to win. But Noah immediately stops as soon as Mirage gets downed. And then he's there, about to get hit when Mirage covers him. Literally dying on top of him. Losing an arm and a leg just to keep Noah safe, to keep his promise. are u serious. And its not until this moment Noah realizes what's being taken from him and he begins to freak out because!! Mirage is Dying! And after he does, Noah almost gives up. He is devastated; he's lost someone. He says he can't move, he can't do anything, and its his brothers words that help him regain his composure.

And then luckily, Mirage comes back with a quip and tells Noah to take the wheel. And Noah does. And Mirage continues to protect Noah. HE CONTINUES TO SHIELD NOAH EVEN AFTER HE'S LOST SO KUCH OF HIMSELFN!@ HES WILLING TO DIE FOR NOAH!!! HE DID DIE FOR HIM!!

because of mirage, Noah was able to meet Elena and get that key. because of mirage, Noah was able to enter the temple and receive the codes for said key. because of Mirage, Noah helped save the world. all because an alien had to keep a promise and thought that Noah was cool.

now listen if that ain't complete and utter infatuation then idk what is

and Noah deciding to not sell Mirage is SO IMPORTANT. He originally went to take the key from the museum because he wanted to be able to sell Mirage for cash and save the planet, so seeing Noah go through so many changes throughout the film and then eventually changing his mind is so impactful. when he took the Mirage suit off, he was looking at it so fondly because he realized now that he can't get rid of Mirage. Mirage became special. he then began to use spare parts to build Mirage back up, stating that its his car and he's not gonna sell it no matter what because Mirage is special. Mirage saved his life and this is what Noah is doing to pay him back.

IM SOOO ILL I LOVE GAY PEOPLE !!!!

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-twenty two

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: The moment you've all been waiting for. I know I teased masked sex in this one BUT it's going to have to wait for the next chapter. TWO CHAPTERS LEFT; I REPEAT TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh @tearfallpixie @cupidsdreams

"Noah, I swear to the gods, put me down," I giggled while smacking his back.

He ignored my protest and pathetic attempt to break free from his hold as he opened the door to his room, kicking it closed behind him. My upside down view was of his round ass, which I tried hard not to take a bite out off, so I wasn't able to see what was scattered around the room and bed until Noah gently let me fall to my feet.

I brushed my hair out of my face while narrowing my eyes at him. "You can't manhandle me to get what you want, you know."

He scoffed while raising a brow. "Says the girl that just jerked me off in front of the guys."

I pursed my lips, a red hue covering my cheeks, and when I went to retort back with a witty comeback, I noticed the scene in front of me.

Behind Noah, who was smirking like an idiot, were a couple bouquets of flowers; one on his dresser, one on the table next to his bed, and one on his desk next to his computer. All black dahlia's, my favorite.

"Davis told me that back in high school you used to be obsessed with black dahlia's," Noah said as he watched me fiddle with one between my fingers.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes but I refused to let them slip.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "After the murder; call me grotesque but I'm a huge true crime nerd."

Noah smiled warmly at me when I gazed over to him. "When did you do all this? We've been together all night.

"I set it up when you ran to grab the pizza's. Although, I was hoping to have you up here a lot sooner. The playlist I made is almost over."

"Playlist?" I questioned, now hearing the soft tune of music play from his computer.

Bending over the desk, I scrolled through the entire Spotify playlist he created and titled it Angel. It had all of my favorite songs and of course, some Bad Omens songs. Between the flowers and playlist, my heart was swooning with such an intense feeling that I had to grip the chair in front of me to steady myself. Why did I feel like this? Why was this unknown feeling so intense that I couldn't breathe?

Love, you idiot. You fucking love Noah Sebastian.

I almost stumbled on my feet when the realization slammed through me like a fucking truck. There always was this sensation that lurked at the depths of my heart and soul that knew I loved Noah. With everything that's happened the last few weeks, however, clouded over those sensations until recently. The more time I spent with now, the intense those sensations vibrated throughout my veins.

"You didn't have to do all this, Noah," my bottom lip trembled.

He cupped my cheek, thumb grazing over the trembling lip. "Yes, I did. You've been going through so much lately and while I don't know what's going on in your mind exactly."

Noah's fingers tapped against my forehead causing me to let out a small laugh.

"I do know that you needed something to lift your spirits," he finished then motioned to the bed behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, a gasp fell from my lips when I saw a small velvet box on the bed, next to a piece of paper that folded perfectly in half. Noah quickly hushed my panic with a kiss to the side of my head when he noticed my shoulders went stiff.

"It's not a ring, don't worry," he muttered.

Good.

Because I only realized I loved him, the last thing I needed right now was a proposal. But that didn't mean I was opposed to it down the road.

With shaky hands, I opted in picking up the piece of paper first and seeing what it was made my stomach flip repeatedly.

"A plane ticket?" I peered up at Noah.

"You're coming with to Europe, angel. Wether its to work for Bad Omens or to be with me. I'm not letting you stay back," Noah's tucked a piece of hair behind my ears, fingers lingering on the skin of my neck.

Guilt pulled at my heart. "I think I have no choice but to work for you. I have to save up some money if I want to find a place. Although, I'm not sure how I'm going to afford anything over in Europe. Maybe I should stay back and find a job here-."

Noah hushed my ramblings with a fiery kiss, hand burying into my hair while the other grasped at the back of my neck to pull me into his chest. The plane ticket fluttered to the ground as I grabbed a fist full of his shirt and I had to stand on my toes to lean up into the kiss.

"For once, angel. Stop worrying about what you have to do in order to survive. I'm here now, let me help you with things," he muttered against my lips.

"But I-."

Once again, Noah cut off my words with his lips but this kiss wasn't intense as the last one.

"Please let me do this, okay?" He leaned back so he could look into my eyes. "Let me take care of you the way I should have from the start."

The part of me that was used to fighting help or fighting to survive screamed to decline, tell Noah to fuck off and I didn't need his help. But learning to change and heal from the trauma of my past made me eventually nod. I needed to learn to accept help because there were something I couldn't do on my own.

"Okay," I breathed. "But I still think I should start looking for an apartment. It might take a while of me working to save up."

Noah grabbed the other gift and placed it in my hands. "This might help."

I raised a curious brow at him. "What is it?"

"That's the whole concept of a gift. You open it and see," he urged me on with a nod.

I smacked his hand away as he tried to open the box for me and when I saw what was inside; I was even more confused.

"A key?" I wondered while picking it up out of the box. "What's this for?"

Noah rubbed the back of his neck."Uh, shit. I had this whole thing planned in my head but now that you're standing in front of me, I'm nervous."

My heart hammered against my chest as I waited for him to find the words he needed to say, still clutching the key tight in my hand. I knew what he was going to ask and my brain was screaming the answer already before he even asked.

With his hand in mine, the thumb that had the angel wings tattoo rubbing across the back of my hand, Noah locked his eyes with mine.

"Move in with me, angel."

The words stumbled out in one large garbled mess, and Noah cursed. "Fuck, this was a lot easier when I practiced it in my head."

Through my own nerves, I couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he was in this moment. From the second I opened the small box, I knew what he wanted to ask me but I was still very on the fence about it.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? We're going to be with each other all the time at home and at work? Won't you get sick of me?"

The corner of Noah's lips curled up in a smile. "You said home."

Fuck.

I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my own smile. "You know what I mean."

He pulled me down to sit on his bed with him and brough my legs into his lap, fingers grazing over the bare skin of my thighs. The small action did so much to calm my racing heart.

"There's no way I could get sick of you. Having you with me when I wake up in the morning or go to sleep at the end of a long day makes whatever issues we may have down the road worth it. It makes sense if you think about it. Why would I have you go find a place of your own when Jolly and I have all this extra space?"

My eyes widened. "Oh, please tell me you talked to Jolly about this? I don't want him to feel left out or what if he thinks we're going to kick him out?"

"Jolly is fine with it," Noah reassured me by pulling out his phone to show me the text thread between him and Jolly.

Of course, he was telling the truth. Jolly even called him out for not asking sooner. But when I watched Noah swipe out of the messages, I got a peak at the background on his phone and my cheeks flushed with a blazing heat. It was a picture of me, one that I posted on my Only Fans; the one of mean in their Bad Omens shirt in the tour bus bathroom.

"Noah Sebastian!" I scolded. "Why the fuck is that your background?!"

I jumped into his lap to snatch the phone from him hoping to change the background. Noah laughed while one hand kept the phone away from quite a distance and his other arm snaked around my back to keep me in place.

"It's fucking hot, angel." Noah shrugged so matter-of-factly.

"What if someone sees it?" I seethed trying to reach for the phone again. "Well, Folio's already seen those but still."

"Don't remind me," Noah grumbled, dropping his phone on his bed.

The grip on me turned possessive and for a moment, I stopped trying to grab his phone and instead, cupped Noah's face.

"You have no reason to be jealous. I deleted the page but we both know those pictures are out there. It was something I knew would happen when I started the page."

"I know," he eventually sighed.

"Why do you even want that picture as your background? You can't see my face," I wondered.

Noah's eyes darkened as he licked his lips. "Maybe you should take another one for me, this time where I can see your gorgeous face."

"Hm," I hummed while brushing my nose across his. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You don't even know."

My squeal of laughter echoed around the room when Noah flipped us on the bed so he was leaning over me, digging his hips into mine. A mixture between a moan and a whine fell from my lips and I grasped at his hips so I could keep him close. He was still wearing his sweats from earlier so I could still feel the hard definition of his hardening cock. With his face buried in the crook of my neck, Noah breathed me in while leaving pepper light kisses everywhere.

"You said home," he repeated his words form earlier.

"Yes," I breathed out a moan when his cock slide over the folds of my pussy.

I was still turned on from our little under the blanket action earlier and with everything he was doing right now; I was minutes away from coming undone.

"So you'll stay?"

Noah pulled away so he could gaze down at me, hair falling into his eyes. I gently brushed it away so I could get a good look of his face to see if he truly meant and understood what he was asking of me. This wasn't something he could take back, or well he could but it would mean the end of our relationship. That wasn't something I wanted.

But through the dark depths of his eyes, I could see that Noah meant every part of his question.

Leaning up so my lips ghosted over his, I smiled. "Only if you change your background."

"It's a fucking deal, angel," Noah said before crashing his lips to mine.

We both moaned into the kiss, starved for the desire that's been clawing at our insides for weeks. It's been an unspoken rule between us that even though we've fooled around, we still haven't had sex yet. Neither of us knew why we were waiting so long to jump over that hurdle but now that the future was bright and clear of any more obstacles, we were ready.

I was ready.

Noah's large hand spread across the skin of my stomach as he slipped it underneath my shirt, fingers pulling at the waistband of my pants, a silent question.

"Please," I begged, raising my hips up to meet his.

He made quick work of shedding me of my pants then my shirt, me now laying underneath him in just a pair of black panties. Sheer darkness filled the whites of his eyes as he cocked his head at me.

"You weren't wearing a bra all night?"

I shrugged innocently. "Oops."

Noah's savageness poured out of him through his kiss as he attacked my lips once more and now it was me who slipped him off his shirt and sweats, the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide the hardness of his cock. I ran my palm over it, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel. If you keep that up I'm going to cum in your hand all over again," he groaned while bitting my bottom lip.

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip. "Did you just bite me?"

Noah shrugged. "Oops."

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I somehow managed to flip us around so I was now straddling him. It wasn't an easy task since he was much taller than me but we made it work even though we were horizontal on the bed.

"Noah."

His name fell from my lips in a whine full of desperation. He barley touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and I needed this release so fucking bad.

"What do you want from me?" His hand slide up my stomach to cup my breast, fingers pinching and pulling my nipples.

"You. I just want you."

With his free hand, he helped me shimmy out of my panties then I hurriedly slid his briefs down his long legs, eyes lingering on the array of tattoo's. I was kneeling in front of him and leaned towards the rose tattoo on his right kneecap to pepper kisses along it before jumping over to the Japanese style mask on his left leg, purposely avoiding the tattoo of Bryan's face.

"That's so fucking weird."

"Trust me. That's not the weirdest tattoo I have," he chuckled.

My lips parted over the leaking head of Noah's cock, fingers wrapping around the base, and I licked up the bits of pre-cum that seeped through the slit. I hummed in pure delight as the salty taste lingered on my lips.

"So good," I praised looking up at him through my lashes

He groaned pleasure, or annoyance that I was taking my time, I wasn't sure. Noah sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, the LED lights behind his bed and around his room bathed him in an orange glow.

"Angel," he warned. "I'm not in the mood for games. Please."

I rose to my feet slowly. "Is Noah Sebastian begging?"

"Fuck yes I am," he sighed.

"Well, who am I to make you wait," I straddled his hips once again and gently pushed him back onto the bed, the head of his cock sliding along my folds.

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Noah guided himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me completely. It pulsed inside of me, earning a desperate groan from me. Noah's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape and hands gripping my hips so tight I was sure there would be bruises in the morning.

But I didn't care. Having him finally inside of me felt so fucking good.

I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against his warm stomach and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from earlier sent me in a spiral of pure desire and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight.

"Are you alright?" I asked when I realized Noah was barley moving.

He nodded, eyes finding mine through the messy strands of hair that covered his face.

"You're just so fucking beautiful, angel. I've wanted this for so long," he admitted and grabbed the back of my neck to yank me down towards him.

He attacked my lips with so my force I had to rest a hand on his chest, our tongues exploring each other mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Noah's hips finally moved in a slow, steady stroke and I whined into the kiss.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

"Fuck, angel." He groaned. "If I go faster, I'll-. It's too good."

I cupped his face to look at him. "Noah, please don't think you need to make this last an hour. I'm so fucking close and I can tell you are too. I have an implant so you don't have to worry about anything."

That's all he needed before his arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Noah who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along it.

My body hummed in a prayer like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure bliss.

"I love you."

The aftershocks halted, my body going rigid in Noah's embrace, who didn't bother to stop moving his hips. My heart swelled with so much emotion at hearing those three words and I brushed back the stand of hair from Noah's face, it stuck to the skin with his sweat.

"Wha-what did you say?" I stammered, breathless.

He blinked slow. "I love you, angel. I'm so fucking sorry for everything hurtful thing I've done or said to you but I promise I'll spend forever making it up to you."

"I." Thrust. "Love." Thrust. "You."

A second orgasm tore through my entire being at Noah's proclamation and my head fell into his chest, his cock twitching before he released himself deep within my walls, a low groan rumbling from his throat. We lay there tangled in each other's arms for a long moment to let our breathing calm, along with our hearts. Although, there was no way mine would ever beat normal after hearing Noah loved me.

He loves me.

I peppered kisses all along the tattoo's over his chest as I curled myself underneath his arm, exhaustion digging deep into my bones.

"I love you too, Noah."

[royalsy-queen]

I actually can't believe it, we got an HD pic of him, he looks amazing and they've listened to the shaggy wavy bowlcut prayers, he's wearing blue yellow AND green, he has a pair of headphones and the second one? Confirmed season one upside down flashback, baby Byers is back and they're gonna do the same thing they did with baby Eleven in s4, Noah is acting the scene and the kid has motion tracking dots in his face. Like, it's confirmed, we're gonna see the events of s1 as Will lived them stuck in the Upside Down and I don't think I'll be able to watch without my heart breaking. Seeing tiny Noah all wet and sick and alone in s1 hurts everytime, I can't do that again.

Back to the main pic, I actually CAN'T believe how good he looks. Like, it's so good it almost looks fanmade? It looks like people ACTUALLY predicted him to look like. I'm in love with the longer wavier bowlcut I really am <3

Also, Birthdaygate confirmed. They're saying happy birthday EVERYWHERE, saying they could never forget. So now I'm fully convinced the Duffers just lied about forgetting the birthday because it's gonna be an important plot point of s5. I'm holding onto hope that Lettergate is also real, I need to see that. Also, now that we've seen both Mike and Will, Byler is THAT couple. They're both gorgeous, they're deff sharing clothes and I'm not fully procesing that THIS Will and THIS Mike are gonna kiss, we're actually gonna see the Byler kiss with THESE looks oh my gods. I'm just gonna go stare at both pictures for an undisclosed amount of time because I need to settle in the fact that it's no longer a leak or fanart, it's real. It's happening woooow

[kaliforniahigh]

I decided to write a HC about Noah dating a girl with ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder)

This is solely based on my experience. Even though I'm not professionally diagnosed, all the evidence and my selective eating points to ARFID.

And I just know he would be the sweetest.

Let's start with the first date. They were always nerve-wracking for you, because he told you he would be picking the place. But what if it had no options for you?

Other dates had gone south because of this. You hearing things along the lines of "why are you such a picky eater?" "you're an adult, you should eat everything!"

It goes without saying you've been out of the dating scene for a while. But something told you that Noah was different. He was very kind and caring, it was difficult for you to picture him being an asshole to you like the other ones.

Once you get to the restaurant, you start to scan the menu, hoping he isn't one of those people who like to order for each other.

Salmon, fish, oyster... as you keep reading, the fear gets worse and worse, because sea food is really NOT your thing.

But then you get to the kids menu and your eyes finally land on the chicken and fries plate.

Noah obviously notices this, and he obviously thinks he fucked up because why the hell would he not ask you if you liked sea food before picking the restaurant??

"You don't like sea food, do you?" He asks with a shy smile.

"It's not that I don't li-" "You can say you don't like it, it's totally fine, I won't be upset or anything" so you tell him that it's actually not your preferred food.

He stands up from his seat and extends his hand for you to take "c'mon, let's go eat something we're both going to enjoy. I'm not gonna let us have a shitty first date"

You're honestly shocked, because he is going out of his way to make sure you enjoy tonight.

The months pass and he notices habits you have. Like pushing aside some things on your plate, or checking your burger to see if everything is ok. And he really wants to ask, but he doesn't know how. And he doesn't want to offend you.

The day he really can't help it is when he invites you backstage to a show he is performing. In the rush that is everything before a concert, he really doesn't notice you don't eat anything from the catering table.

You give him a kiss for good luck and take your place side stage to watch him.

Towards the end of the concert, he notices you're gone. But he just thinks it's a bathroom break or something of the sort.

He thanks the fans, they throw the towels and guitar picks and he heads backstage when someone stops him. "Hey, man. You should check on Y/N, she doesn't seem like she's very well"

He frowns and runs to where you are, noticing that you are, in fact, very pale, your hands are shaking and cold.

"What happened, baby?"

"I just need to eat something, I'll be fine"

"When was the last time you ate? Here, we have food around here, grab a plate" He starts to look around but notices you're not on the same wavelength as he is with this.

So you have no other option but to tell him. The hard time you had as a kid, the never eating from the school cafeteria, or your parents not being able to go to restaurants because you don't eat anything there.

The patronizing looks you got when you told people you don't eat hot dogs. Or soup. Or sushi. Or sea food.

After this, he always makes sure he walks around with a safe snack for you. He calls hotels to make sure they have safe options for you to eat for breakfast. Checks every restaurant menu beforehand. Talks to his tour management about food options for the catering they have.

But he also encourages you to eat different things. So he always buys things he thinks you're going to enjoy. He says it's a win-win situation, because if you don't eat it, then he can have it himself.

I would like to write more on this topic, so if you have suggestions, you can send them!

[fluffbyday-smutbynight]

When in Rome...

Lately I've been rotating the Rome scene in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. It's a very short one -exactly 1 minute of screen time- and yet it feels pivotal in showing the evolution of Aziraphale's and Crowley's relationship. It also includes some interesting references, and it just feels... different from the other flashbacks.

I've been thinking about it so much that I had to go back and rewatch the flashbacks leading up to it. Take my hand (take my whole life too) as I take you on a journey...

3004 B.C. - Mesopotamia

Aziraphale is the one breaking the news to Crowley: God, displeased with the humans, is going to wipe them out with a flood of catastrophical proportions. But fret not! He immediately downplays it: it's probably just the locals. And Noah's family and the animals on the ark are going to be fine. And then God will give them a "rain-bow"! Whatever that is, it's the promise it won't happen ever again.

That... doesn't sit too well with Crowley. "Not the kids! You can't kill kids!" he points out (does he mean human kids or goat kids? Probably both), and he scoffs at the rain-bow thing.

But quick comes Aziraphale's rebuttal:

You can't judge the Almighty, Crowley!

... perhaps too quick, like a line he's been fed and he internalized. Like he's subconsciously trying to justify God's actions to himself, more than to Crowley.

As it starts to rain, the crowd around them stands unaware of their own imminent fate.

2500 B.C. - The Land of Uz

Aziraphale learns, very much to his disbelief, that despite Job being a good man, his fate has been determined by a bet between God and Satan.

Here, he gets both to see Job's despair first-hand, and to exercise his own free will.

He teams up with the "enemy"; he lies to Gabriel; he gets a taste of self-agency and a taste of the oxrib (aka worldly pleasures). He gets to do the right thing and save the kids (human and goats alike), learning in the process that his and Crowley's conditions are not too dissimilar: they both feel lonely.

By the end of it, Aziraphale is sure he will get punished by God.

And then... nothing happens.

33 A.D. - Golgotha

Aziraphale and Crowley witness the crucifixion of Jesus.

"Your lot put him on there." "I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crowley."

Unlike with Job, Aziraphale has no say and no power to stop what's happening. Despite that (and in contrast to the flood scene) he empathizes with Jesus: asking if Crowley knew him; recoiling as he watches him being nailed to the cross; acknowledging that all it took was him saying "be kind to each other".

Notice how the events shown in the flashbacks get progressively close and personal.

From the undefined crowd at the flood, to Job and his family, to this "very bright young man": yes, God has honoured the promise to not wipe humanity out ever again; that doesn't make the smiting/destruction/suffering any less painful and unjust.

There doesn't seem to be any logic, nor compassion, to God's decisions. There doesn't seem to be any immediate consequence, too, to going against them (if you're clever enough about it). I think that -as much as Aziraphale wants to keep believing in God's ineffable plan- he must feel, in some capacity, that it's all rather... pointless.

I think that here, in front of the grueling, graphic death of a single man, Aziraphale's moral journey reaches its (first?) breaking point.

In fact, where do we find him next?

"8 years later" (41 A.D.) - Rome

Aziraphale and Crowley meet again very shortly after - relatively speaking, at least (even the scene's title card highlights that: just "8 years later".)

This time around, there's no grand event happening: it's seemingly by chance, they run into each other in a tavern. Well, Crowley is there for "a quick temptation", which is not out of order considering the setting: Caligula's Rome, *the* time and place for decadence and dissolution. And Aziraphale?

He's just... there.

Well, in a scrapped scene from the script book he said he was there to "influence a boy named Nero, get him interested in music". But that didn't make it on screen - though maybe it's still relevant, as you'll see in a moment.

Thing is, he's been there for a while. Unlike Crowley with his odd-looking attire, Aziraphale blends in with the locals and with their customs: wearing a rather pretty tunic; toasting with a "salutaria"; playing a Roman board game by himself. Drinking wine and planning to check out "a new restaurant".

...if he's even talking about an actual restaurant, that is. It's all in this post (check out the comment section too) - but to sum it up: the first thing Aziraphale does is inviting Crowley out (actually, tempting him!) to try "Petronius' new restaurant". Petronius, the notorious "master of elegance" at Nero's court. And by "master of elegance", we mean he was in charge of everything concerning luxury, aka making the court's parties as lavish as possible. Petronius, who was described as a hedonist and an excess seeker. Aziraphale has heard "he does remarkable things to oysters". If that doesn't sound like tongue-in-cheek for some pleasure other than just food, I don't know what does.

In short, it looks like Aziraphale is on vacation, and a rather enjoyable one.

I think he's had about four thousand years to let everything sink in: where Heaven and Hell stand, God's plans and what they mean to humanity (and I'm not even considering what we didn't see: the first war, or Sodom and Gomorrah, or any other horror he might have witnessed).

I think that after Jesus' crucifixion, he was like: fuck it, where can I take a break from all this? Where's *the* place I can most indulge in... being as much human as I can get to be?

And of course he ended up right there. And as the saying goes... when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

I think Aziraphale is having his hot girl summer, and not even God knows what he's been up to.

[queerxqueen]

unpacking the 4x08 van scene script

[The Full Van Scene]

Alrighty, let's break down all the bits and pieces we've got!

First we get this bit about Will wanting to play D and D and Nintendo for the rest of their lives. We then see him immediately catch himself with Uh... and when Mike is unexcited, it's described as "awkward, like embarrassingly so."

Then we get Will's internal, self-deprecating "What are you, like 12-years-old still dude?"

This is 1000% from Will's POV still, not Mike - I don't know why people think otherwise, but this is Will, being hard on himself for being childish, thinking that that is why Mike is not engaging when clearly his head is somewhere else.

This is probably the most interesting bit to me: Will senses the change in vibe; although oblivious to the actual motive behind the change.

Once again we get confirmation that we are only seeing from Will's perspective and that Mike's actions are meant to be a mystery to us. The vibe changes, not because Mike is judging him for wanting to play D&D, not even because Mike is worried about El as Will suspects next--but for some other reason unknown to Will and, at this point, the audience.

Then Mike tentatively goes into his talk about El not needing him. I think it's interesting they used the word "contemplatively" when he first talks about it. It makes it seem like this has been on his mind for a while, like there's in fact a lot on his mind regarding El not needing him.

This is really interesting too--"We've been over this before." Because... have they really? They've talked a bit about El previously, on the car after burying Hero Secret Agent Man, and in Will's room when they talk in 4x04, and Will offered comfort in regards to El. But they certainly haven't quite been over this before. If anything, it's interesting that Will feels that they have. Does Will feel like their conversations are going in circles when it comes to talking about Eleven?

Then Mike launches into his little tangent and Will--doesn't quite get it. He tries to understand but doesn't, not at first, with this awkward encounter, Mike apologizing, before Will shows that he does "get it" with the line: You're scared of losing her.

They lock eyes. A BEAT. I love when scripts specify they lock eyes, because it's so rarely necessary to do so that when they do, I can't help but think of the implications. The writers at this moment are trying to show the understanding passing between them.

I don't need to break down Mike's response: It's stunning. "His face can light up a room." Y'all, consider how down Mike was not two seconds ago, thinking he's worthless, talking down on himself. One look at Will's art, and his face can light up a room.

Will patiently waiting for approval and then being overwhelmed with relief--this is superbly acted by Noah, because that's exactly what we read his facial expressions as to begin with.

Then, of course, the moment he realizes or decides to lie: Act cool. No! Don't look at him. Focus on your words.

I love the line, no! Don't look at him! Like looking Mike in the eye right then, seeing his face--lighting up the van with his happiness over the painting--would make Will want to tell the truth instead of his lie.

This is also the only moment that Jonathan's POV is written into the script where he watches through the rearview mirror--and it happens right as Will tells his first lie, as if to signify that he's lying, to show us once again that Will is our unreliable narrator.

Will "nudges closer" just as he begins to explain the painting, showing how he is taking that first step, being brave, inching closer to the truth.

Then--

I think it's so interesting that it draws emphasis on "Mike turns his attention to Will" just after the first mention of "heart." As if somehow this word draws his attention in a way that's notable. I talked about this particular line having an impact on Mike in my microexpression analysis where again, the word heart seems to take Mike aback, and I think we're seeing that here as well, subtly, with the way it draws our eyes to Mike's attention.

We also get "Will retreats. His body follows." Which neatly contrasts the earlier "Will angles to Mike and nudges closer." Just as before he was being brave, taking a step, now--in turning the conversation back to El--he is doing the opposite. Taking a step back. Retreating, body and soul.

Skipping over the "being different" and "I hate who I am" because it's already been analyzed to death since yesterday and also it's too immensely painful...

Will launches into his El monologue and we get---now it's Mike who doesn't get it. And jesus christ, someone please help these poor boys communicate. Will is saying all these things that don't quite match up to El's actions, and he's clearly getting emotional, but Mike just doesn't get it. He doesn't understand what Will is really saying, doesn't understand that he's talking in code.

Last, I want to mention something that could be significant - the version of the script sent out to donors is missing the line "Thanks, I needed that," which was the only line from Mike's perspective in the preview of the script that 8flix posted on Twitter. Why was this line cut from the donor scripts? What other lines might have been cut, and why?

I actually asked 8flix Nick about this and will let you know if/when he updates, because it's a pretty big inconsistency in my opinion.

That's all for now. More analysis incoming, I'm sure. <3

[creativitysparks4everxoxo]

Nah, but for real: WE NEED AN ANIMATED SERIES THAT FOLLOWS THE ADVENTURES OF MIRAGE AND NOAH AFTER THE EVENTS THAT TOOK PLACE IN ROTB!

I need a post-credit scene animated series follow-up!!!!

I just can't stop thinking about Noah and Mirage's interactions throughout the entire movie, and how the post-credit scene leaves us wanting more. It leaves me wanting to see just how many late nights Noah spent rebuilding Mirage from scratch. I want to see Noah's frustrated moments and his breakdown moments when all the memories of Mirage going to extreme lengths to protect him during the final battle flood his mind. I want to see an extremely exhausted but very determined Noah working on rebuilding Mirage.

I want to see the moment when Noah got to watch Mirage transform into his root mode for the first time after Noah made major progress with his repairs. (Assuming this happened before the post-credit scene) If it didn't, then instead I want to see the moment when Mirage first spoke to Noah during his repair stage and how absolutely ecstatic Noah was.

✨️ I want to see Noah's face when Mirage looks at him for the first time after his repairs. I want to see all the emotions on Noah's face and all the comfort that Mirage gives him! ✨️

Gimme all of the emotions!!!!!

But most importantly, I want to see Noah and Mirage's friendship continue to grow stronger throughout a multi-season animated series. At least 3 seasons minimum. I want to see it all!

I want to see them have those intense moments where they stare into each other's eyes/optics. I don't know how bold the writers would be for a show like this, or if they would be willing to go beyond the platonic borders of Noah and Mirage's relationship. It would be cool if there was romance between them in the show, but it might be considered "too much" to some people. Honestly though, I wouldn't mind if they took platonic relationship approach. I wouldn't mind because it works just as well and the writers could still write Mirage as the naturally teasing/flirty/over confident bot that he is and it would probably go over the bigots head. But we would know what's up. 🤭 And the extra Noah/Mirage content would give us fanfic/fanart inspo. It's essentially a win-win either way you slice it.

I just want a Mirage & Noah centric show, OKAY! 🥺

Gah! Just give us a show where we get to see Mirage take Noah on long drives to calm him down and they can talk about heavy shit. A late night drive to the beach, or even a drive to some fast food joint's drive thru, and then they go back to the garage and talk. Or they go for a walk in a secluded area.

Give us a show where Noah and Mirage get to have that "closure" and a chance to really talk about the moment where everything changed between them. The original deal was for Noah to steal the transwarp key from the museum and in return Mirage would let Noah "sell" him for cash that he could use to support his family. But instead they went on dangerous mission to Peru together and now there's no way in hell that Noah would ever sell Mirage! Not after they literally fused together to become one! I want them to talk about this! I want Mirage to tell Noah why he kidnapped him that fateful day and then Noah could chime in and be like, "I thought I was going to die, man. Your driving was terrifying!" And then of course Mirage would pretend to be offended, say his piece and humour would ensue and they would both be laughing and having a good time. Gimme a scene like that!

And give me scenes when Decepticons stir up trouble and Mirage jumps to protect Noah fiercely (naturally). And don't be afraid to give us those "Oh shit!" episodes when some type of disaster happens that's like level 3 on the "Disaster Metre", but Noah is still freaking the fuck out because he's scared that Mirage is hurt/dying, but instead he's not. He's totally fine, maybe a few scratches to his paint, but he's not in severe pain or in any pain at all. But Mirage sees his boi freaking out, so he has to gently calm him down before he spirals out of control. Yes, more fluff please!

And also, I really want to see Elena in this show! She is so awesome and needs to be in this show, continuing to bring in the knowledge and her warm heart and kindness. I need to see her interact with the other Autobots and maybe even become close friends with Arcee. I need to see Elena interact with Mirage and hear the funny shit he would say to make her laugh. I NEED THIS! And of course OP, Bumblebee, Wheeljack and other Autobot characters would need to be in the show. Maybe we could even get a few episodes featuring Charlie and Bee sneaking out to see her, or maybe not sneaking out at all.

But also, I would love to see Noah and Mirage moments where Mirage tries to get out of patrol duty and essentially leaves his post to go hang with Noah. Noah would be the "voice of reason", but he will end up caving because he can't bring himself to say no to Mirage. Not after everything they've been through together. I imagine Noah would be struggling with some PTSD and other psychological trauma, so when Mirage goes on patrols or does general Autobot stuff, Noah would worry A LOT. This would lead to fluffy scenes and angst and sweet comfort. I NEED THIS!

Honestly, I just need more Mirage and Noah moments, because these two are awesome and I've just been watching Bumblebee and ROTB back to back on repeat ever since ROTB was released digitally. And now I am forever basking in the sweet glow of this Transformers reboot, that is full of action, adventure, comedy, heart and everything that we've ever wanted to see in a Transformers movie. The amount of kindness and compassion that Charlie showed to Bee is wholesome. And the amount of kindness and compassion that Noah and Elena showed the Autobots and Maximals is also wholesome. This is what being a human companion to giant alien robots should look like!

I don't know the whole creative process and other fine details that would need to be worked out in order to get a show like this on the air, but I really do think that this Transformers reboot needs to start making some post-movie shows to help fill in the gaps and give us additional content to obsess over. It's not uncommon for a movie's success to carry over into a show, so I really think we need a post-ROTB show!

~And I think that's it. For now. 🙂

I almost didn't post this 🙈

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Thoughts: The Deadline Contender Panel

Quick list of very direct, subjective, random and spontaneous thoughts I had while listening/watching the panel:

I absolutely understand that Taylor probably doesn't remember every detail of the movie off the top of his head, especially with nerves, but Sweetheart really didn't describe the played DNC scene correctly😅

That being said Taylor calling Henry Alex's boyfriend made me SO FUCKING HAPPY???? I was squealing and kicking my legs because of all the feels. On top of that, intentional or not, Taylor takes a breath so it goes "wanted to bring his... boyfriend!" and there's this subtle emphasis on the word, I am screaming

I do question why this scene though? I don't know much about this whole process, but just an educated guess, if we're trying to get an emmy nom via this panel, shouldn't we be showing a scene that's more representative of the movie's core? Like, say the New Year's scene, or Kensington Palace, or the Lake scene. If we have to include the comedy aspect, then show the freaking Red Room. I love this scene of course, but if the purpose is to nominate ourselves and show ourselves then I feel like another scene should have been picked

Why can't people freaking pronounce Nick's surname correctly? It's phonic! Ga - Lit- Zine

"Orange Guy was still president" I snorted

I heard there's stupid discourse over this minor, harmless thing, but because people are stupid, here to clarify "especially Taylor since he's here" is CLEARLY A JOKE BETWEEN FRIENDS and if you didn't pick that up then that's kind of sad :P

I'm wondering if there's still recordings of the zoom auditions/chem read. I can also imagine zoom chem read being much harder. Honestly I think zoom auditions only work with monologues.

He did the chem read in his sister's apartment lmao

THEIR CHEM READ WAS KENXINGTON????!!! WHAT THE FUCK???!!! THE MOMENT THAT MADE MATTHEW GO "there's the one" WAS THIS FREAKING SCENE??? This also implies they had to say "I love you" upon the first time meeting each other oh my god I wanna see that so bad

Also I cannot freaking imagine this intense of a scene via zoom, God I really want to see it (don't think we'll ever get it but still)

Someone ask Matthew or Nick what the other scene in the chem read is

The notebook, pride and prejudice and 10 things i hate about you mention made me happy :D

The speech thing... Kinda feel like should be a Matthew question? It's cool to hear that Taylor referenced President Obama but this is still ultimately him being Alex? Plus Taylor's a great public speaker to begin with

Did he dabble in political science? Did he ever mention that? I know he did Spanish and Community but political science?

I think the only really bad gay movie in recent years was Bros and that has a myriad of issues internally and externally, but I think it's just this one?

Why is TikTok the metric? Might write something longer in the future when I have time but the thing is with this

Speaking of Taylor and queer roles, I think I saw somewhere that Noah Torres was bi?

I talked to @pippin-katz about this but dear God, I have heard the question "What is your favourite scene" being asked to the boys at least three times now, and they always answer the cake scene. Why don't they ever expand on the question, especially since Taylor affed the Kensington scene this time, and why don't they ever ask other questions or ask about specifics? Between me and my friends, we came up with at least 40 questions that could be asked to the boys and haven't been asked yet.

Nick how the fuck did cream stay in/ behind your ear for two days and Taylor how did you spot it

I'm honestly getting really tired of the sequel question, it's always phrased the same way, and of course, the answer is gonna be the same. Even if they knew, they contractually can't tell us, the first announcement of a sequel will have to come from a bigger source like Amazon themselves.

I understand being nervous but this interviewer felt too timid and unsure of herself

Overall still very enjoyable, always more than happy to hear Taylor speak about his baby that we all love, but the question are so freaking repetitive. I said it clearer in my discussion with Pippin so here's a screenshot of that part

[chirpsythismorning]

It would appear I am indeed one of the very few optimistic (delusional?) Bylers left.

Not saying that if you feel hopeless and need to move on, that you can't. A lot of you have been through this before with other shows. Again and again. You’re tired and fed-up and you have every right to be.

Technically, Season 5 won't be out for another 2+ years anyways, which means the best thing for everyone regardless is to get whatever we need off our chests now and then to just go on a hiatus for the foreseeable future. 

When it comes to how I feel about Vol. 2, there were definitely at least a few good moments. If this season has anything going for it, it’s the emotional value. This is without a doubt the most I’ve cried ever while watching the show. One scene in particular that had me on the floor was the scene with Will and El reuniting and hugging. And of course the scene with Will and Mike in the van (DAMN YOU NOAH SCHNAPP FOR MAKING ME SOB SO HARD ALL DAY THAT I GOT A MIGRAINE!)

But yes, I am a Byler. So you could say I was a bit disappointed in that department.

And yet still, I think my take on the later part of season 4 is much different from the majority.

Because personally, I don’t think that what played out in Vol. 2 means that Byler is dead. If anything, I believe it to be more endgame than I did before (well, at least in comparison to pre-s4. There’s no denying pre-Vol. 2 confidence levels remain unmatched. Truly the best era for the Byler fandom to date).

I think my main issue is, like so many of us on here, I thought it was guaranteed we would get to see Mike become aware of Will’s feelings. 

Alas, we did not.

And to be totally clear, without this revelation, Byler can’t go anywhere. 

Neither forwards, nor technically backwards.

This means the baiting game is not over. Which as bad as it sounds, is why I’m still so optimistic…

Now, if they had made Will’s feelings obvious to Mike, or even the fact that Will is gay as being obvious to Mike, but STILL had Mike behave the way he did in Vol. 2, now THAT would have sucked. It would have been canon rejection on Mike’s end.

But we didn’t even get rejection from Mike. 

Instead, we got Will coming off as a hardcore M*leven shipper in Mike's eyes, all while the audience was getting the exact opposite interpretation of this situation; that Will is helplessly in love with Mike. 

Will is able to voice the extent of his love, albeit through advice to Mike about his own situation with El, in a way that no one else on the show has been able to. Most of the other characters need a bunch of bystanders to make them realize their feelings and push them in that direction. But Will, he doesn’t need someone holding his hand along the way, telling him what the right thing to do or say is. His love isn’t something he needs to really think about in order to understand it. It just is.

(Which is SO fucking ironic when you think about how Mike always needs help with figuring out his feelings for El and even sounds like he’s reading off a script when he’s trying to explain himself to her. Whereas with Will, s2 monologue teas, it’s the most natural thing Mike’s ever done. Unscripted, straight from the heart… And both Vol. 1-2 continued to drive home this concept, so maybe jot that down..)

It’s just that, unfortunately, in Will’s eyes, Mike will never return this love, which means his only option is to let Mike go. If supporting Mike and El’s relationship means putting himself dead last in every respect, so that his best friend and his sister can be happy, Will is going to do just that. 

But as far as Mike knows, Will holds no romantic feelings for him. I mean after all, Will is guiding Mike literally every step of the way to confessing his love to El, and that doesn't sound like the behavior of someone who’s in love with you, now does it? 

So why would Mike, throw everything on the line, including the survival of their family and friends in Hawkins by not simply just telling his gf he loves her? All while El is right there loving him and needing his love to fight (presumably), with Will beside him literally rooting for him to do just that? This is very obviously the only option in Mike’s eyes.

Which is ironic, because in a way, I think that Mike has truly never seen him and Will as an option, just like Will, but for an entirely different reason. 

Mike views his feelings for Will as childish, something he will grow out of, or at least should have by now.

“We’re not kids anymore. What did you think, really? That we were never going to get girlfriends? That we were just going to sit in my basement and play games for the rest of our lives?”

If Mike can’t love El, then how can he possibly love any women? She’s special. She’s a superhero. He HAS to love her, right? It’s the best option he could ever possibly have. Well, at least considering…

But what happens when suddenly, he comes to the realization that him and Will ARE an option? And that the only thing ever stopping them was himself and his inability to just be honest with everyone and himself?

I think the truth is, there’s a reason that they’re holding off on this revelation for Mike. 

It will be a catalyst. It will change everything.

Now, how exactly do you think Mike is going to react to this? The fact that Will was in love with him this whole time and he had no idea?

Honestly, I think he’s going to react horribly, but not for the reason everyone assumes.

Because I would argue that, if Mike was going to react badly with disgust or even just let Will down nicely to confirm it’s indeed unrequited, then the Duffer’s would have just given this revelation up by now. But they haven’t.

Once Mike finds out that Will is (probably always will be) in love with him, and that instead of telling him, Will used his love to help Mike get closer to El, even when Mike himself was having doubts over and over? That Will went as far as to lie about the painting he worked so hard on for Mike in order to rekindle their dying friendship, to instead insinuate it was commission from El, to give Mike that final push he needed to even have the courage to tell El he loved her? That all the moments like this that they shared as of late, was really just Will talking about himself? That the only reason he was able to tell El he loved her in the first place, was because he was so moved by Will’s love for him??

This is going to break Mike.

And let’s be real here, two episodes would not have done this revelation justice. 

So now, just knowing the direction they went for Vol. 2, as well as coming to terms with it, I have reached the conclusion that, despite how bleak things seem now, ‘maybe all of this is happening for a reason’ (s2 Mike Wheeler, we miss u).

Which brings me to the other most important piece of the puzzle, which is that, arguably, El needs to be the one who ends things once and for all.

The general audience has been given the impression El is head over heels in love with Mike, and so of course they were rooting for Mike to get on with it and just tell her he loved her. 

But that’s the interesting part. He finally did tell her, but her reaction in the aftermath was not something a lot of fans expected. 

It seems that she’s distancing herself from Mike, a fact that Will acknowledges to Mike later at Hopper’s cabin, with Mike genuinely confused because he thought he did the one thing he had to do. 

He told her he loved her. Which makes everything alright now, right?

But maybe it doesn’t.

Maybe the reminder we got, of that speech from Max to El, about how she didn’t need Mike or Hopper or ANY man to know her worth, was foreshadowing for what honestly needs to happen in order for El to really process and realize her own true feelings about Mike.

Because, although I do believe El genuinely thought she loved Mike, is it possible that Mike was not only having doubts about saying it because of the reasons he argued, or even because of some repressed feelings for Will, but also because El hadn’t given him what he needed to truly believe she loved him.

Mike, like a lot of people, doesn’t need to hear “I love you” to believe that someone loves him.

“I didn’t say it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He wants something more meaningful, or more specifically, something along the lines of the speech Will gave to him in the van.

Will’s confession disguised as El’s, was what Mike needed to finally say I love you to El... 

Something I think we also got caught up in, is this idea that the Duffer’s were just going to drop M*leven and throw in Byler, with everything else going on, while they still have a whole ass season to promote for another 3+ years, and to their mostly 80’s loving homophobic audience. If Byler is going to happen, it’s going to be the definition of slow-burn and endgame. That’s literally the only way. 

This puzzle is complex, which sucks if you want all the answers now, because we’re just not going to get them. If they give up all their moves, then what is the point of telling the story at all? 

Other pieces of the puzzle include things that arguably still need to happen before Byler can, even regardless of the constraints they have as show-runners who run the biggest show on Netflix’s dying platform. 

Things like Will and El’s love for each other as brother and sister. Considering all the fans that said Will hates El because he didn’t stand up to her bullies or that he’s a home-wrecker who just wants to get with her boyfriend, is why I do think they needed to debunk these insinuations within the narrative. And boy oh boy did they deliver on that front. Will is the most selfless son of a bitch on the planet, who loves his best friend and his sister so much. They made that very clear. And you can see that despite a few homophobes here and there, the general audience's reaction to Will in Vol 2 is sympathy and to Mike it's confusion and betrayal...

Hmm, making El realize she doesn't even love Mike, after making Will's unrequited feelings for Mike more clear, after making Mike behave like an IDIOT this entire time juggling these two relationships, only for him to become aware of whats going on, and to clearly be in love with Will?

Sounds like a good way to set up Byler to an audience that might not have humored it before...

And like I said, with how important I do think it was for this to happen in order for them to go the Byler route, is why I don’t necessarily see this approach as a bad thing. We even got the Will and El hug in 4x08, which maybe it’s just because Noah and Millie are so close, but I would easily rank that on my top most well-earned moments in the whole show.

We NEEDED that. Especially in terms of what is likely to come in season 5 with Byler endgame...

Also, yes the Will angst sucked and it's just trauma porn at this point. I’m not going to deny that fully. I agree with pretty much all of the criticism in regards to how they chose to do certain things when they didn't necessarily have to, but I also simultaneously am able to understand that it again, maybe this is all happening for a reason. If they are indeed going to have Will play a big role in the final season, than them forgetting his birthday, Mike being oblivious and all this other shit he's been through combined, sets up a really arc for him next season, not even necessarily a villain one, but all of this pain has the potential to lead to a happy ending. And I'm being full serious.

Like we have Finn Wolfhard saying the ending of Stranger Things will be like the ending of Schitt’s Creek??? That it will end at it's highest point. The last episode of Schitt’s Creek is literally a happily ever after gay wedding, there's no other way to interpret that…

We also know that a lot of ideas for the last seasons were planned from the beginning, with David Harbour saying that he knew the ending way back in s2 and that it's beautiful and has been the intended plan all along. That there's easter eggs that will have us going 'WOW this is what we've been watching the whole time'? That it's wonderful?

If you’re the level of Byler truther that believes they were somewhat planned all along from the beginning, then you would also know that if they plan a happy ending for Mike and Will, then they would have no problem killing us this painfully in the beginning of the end, because they know we’ll be the ones cheering on by the actual end, and it'll be the homophobes who are pissed and stuck with this result forever as endgame. 

I’m just saying, don’t be surprised when s5 gets closer and we actually see them promoting Byler… like a lot. And we actually start getting in canon hints at scenes with El herself even trying to get them together.

Groveling Mike Wheeler era?

Will finding a potential new love interest and Mike pining/jealous?

Come ONNN! You guys are way more delusional than you’re giving yourselves credit for and I urge you to join me!!!