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#bc I've never seen him in anything else
tastytofusoup · 2 years
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50% of the conversations in Deadwood are awkward, and in the other 50% the swearing, yelling, and calling everyone a cocksucker is covering up the awkwardness that’d be there otherwise.
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mashmouths · 13 days
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so i started this show and it just gets worse and worseeeee not only did it lift the romance subplot directly from twilight (and not well) but they also are trying to play the forbidden love angle hard in the fantasy racism vein except it's a "cross-species" relationship between the two whitest people i've ever seen in my life and there are three people of color in the whole (first season of the) show who aren't villains and it seems that every other episode (and sometimes ebery episode and sometimes twice an episode!) there is a man physically or magically subjugating a woman and i keep waiting for the big reveal at the end to be stolen from fucking rainbow rowell
#yes i read 'carry on' by rainbow rowell in middle school what else could you have possibly expected from me. anyway she gives me simon snow#vibes and not in a good way and she's even blonde while her british vampire boyfriend has dark dark hair and just. you will never be basil.#also i hate to be that guy but the writing has made me physically recoil and the acting almost reads as silly but mostly as middling :/ and#i wanted and expected more from matthew goode bc i really liked him in downton but i guess this is a 2018 bbc modern vampire fantasty serie#like i guess.#also there's SO much shit about bloodlines and maybe i'm gay with a blood disorder amd a family history of adoption but like. who fucking#careeessssssssss it ahould not be that serious. why is it that serious.#also the fantasy racism kind of reads like it's mesnt to be? homophobic adjacent? like there's a Lot of 'love who you love' talk going on#for the single most bland heterosexual relationship i've ever seen on a screen like there is so little chemistry? so little#anyway it's called 'a discovery of witches' and i'd recommend not watching it 🫶 or if you do then watch it on 1.5x speed#it's been decent background noise for knitting bc i kinda sorta care about the plot but if miss a chunk bc i'm in the lace chart zone i do#not care and i do not have to go back to catch it bc the writing is so transparent#there was another series it stole from that's escaping me atm but when i noticed it pissed me off a touch. hmm maybe it will come back to m#a post#do not watch this show#I REMEMBERED they wanted the juliette holding diana captive moment to be joaquin's 'i want to watch you fuck her' from sense8 SOOOOO BAD bu#it WASN'T bc they were too afraid to lean into anything that would make juliette interesting at all. for being all about the world's most#special blonde woman this show does not seem to like women very much. sad! well there's other shows#OH ALSO ALSO there are 3 magical 'creature' species which are witch + vampire + femon except the demons don't seem? to have any magical#abilities that humans don't have besides sensing the species of other creatures? like witches can cast spells and vampires do their various#vampire things but demons have nothing going for them except disproportionately high rates of homelessness and suicide?? like girl what are#we doingggggggg what are we doing here !! what's their deal why does no one care !! can they do anything or no !! god this show sucks
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g0thsoojin · 2 months
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#i dont understand why he everytime has not wanted to actually tell me how he feels for me#like... ???#idk...#i feel like even as a friend if i told him abt my romantic feelings#isnt it only right to say that yes i like u too or no i dont like u that way#bc it really bothers me that he just wont talk abt it#he just wont tell me how he feels#he just says i mean a lot to him#but i need to know more and i've wanted to know that for so long#like i've told him that i love him and want to be with him and want to work thru issues together#whh cant he just tell me how he feels#why cant he just say that no i dont want u romantically anymore but i did at one point#or no i only thought of u as a potential option#like idc what it is i just want him to tell me so i can fkn know how to deal with it#but it tortures me that i have no fkn idea#and when i read back old messages#i get so confused i dont know what he means or thinks or feels#he's told me that im the 2nd closest to his heart but then when i told him i was in love he said that he couldnt make me feel seen the way#i'd need to at that time but then i wait and give him space and then he suddenly has another gf without even thinking to tell me!#idk sometimes im like yeah maybe he cares abt me thats true#but it feels like he doesnt even respect me enough to talk to me? i told him i was scared everyday for weeks after his first gf#and that i checked everyday in fear that he'd have a gf again and not tell me#and then he went and did that again... like i just dont fkn know#i dont know where tf i stand with him#and i've tried asking him but then he said that he feels close to a panic attack so i back off#and then he has a gf out of nowhere#and then i cant ask bc every single fkn time i ask him to talk abt smth#he just says he cant deal with it right now but 'now' never comes and he never talks abt anything w me#but with someone else he can be in a relationship with#the more i think the more i realize that this isnt what i want
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shellshocklove · 8 months
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lover, lover, lover | joel miller
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pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader
summary: after blurring the lines with your boss and pornstar joel in pismo beach, what happens when you come back home to LA?
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), misogyny (bc of the times™), swearing, use of pet names, oral (f+m receiving), use of sextoys, handjob, praise kink, soft!dom joel but also a hint of sub!joel, porn, degradation, no use of y/n
a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic. you should read the part 1 first or this will make no sense lmao. i know it's been months since i posted that one and i've gone back and forth a lot on if i was gonna write a second part, but here it is <3 again i wanna give a big thank you to my beloved @dustydaddyyy for encouraging me every step of the way, listening to me when i feel lost, and for reading through everything. i love you babes!!! <3
main masterlist / ao3
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.
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You jolted awake.
With a groan and a confusing squint, you sat up on your elbow. The back of your hand rubbed roughly at your eye as you looked around your darkened bedroom. The fan on your dresser huffed and swirled, blowing cool air in your direction with every pass – blowing away the memories of your dream.
You turned around to lay down again when you heard it. A distant sound of your phone ringing in your hallway. You let out another groan as you scooted out of bed, your nighty falling around your knees as your feet met the carpet floor. Shuffling down the hall you muttered a quiet “I’m coming, calm down,” to the phone.
You lifted the phone of the hook with a quiet, “Hello.”
“Did I wake ya, sweet girl?” the static voice answered.
“Joel, what time is it?” you sighed into the phone, your arm hitting the cool wall as you leaned against it.
“Um…” he started, probably checking his watch, “02.05.”
“Yes, you woke me up…” you told him, eyes tired and falling shut before blinking open in quiet panic, “Wait– did something happen? Why are you calling so late?” Fear squeezed around your heart, wrapping its cold hands around it as flashes of Joel getting arrested, or kidnapped… or something worse, played like a movie in your head.
“No,” he laughed, “No, sweetheart! I just couldn’t sleep.”
“So, you decided to wake me instead? You are aware we have a meeting with VCA tomorrow at 9am? I told you that didn’t I?” Two fingers pinched the bridge of your nose – trying to squeeze the sleep away.
You usually never forgot any of Joel’s meetings or commitments, and you prided yourself in staying on top of his schedule. You could swear you told him about the meeting the other day on the way back from Pismo Beach.
Pismo Beach.
You hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off. Two days had passed. Two days since… Since you’d had sex with Joel. Two days since he told you he wanted you to be his. Was Joel your boyfriend now? You couldn’t tell.
“Yeah, you did, you’re a good assistant,” he said, the smile evident in his voice.
The praise wrapped itself around your heart like a pink cloud of love – it made you smile.
“Thanks,” you whispered, your quiet voice making him chuckle down the other end.
You waited for his chuckle to die before you asked him, “Um… was there anything else?”
“You tired of me already, sweetheart?” he teased.
“No, never,” you shook your head, “it’s just late.”
“I know, I’m sorry baby,” the way he said it, he left the words hanging in the air.
A second passed in silence, and then another. You waited for him to say something else, but when the words never came you spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Can I come over?” he almost cut you off, his words hanging at the end of your own like a teenager on a skateboard gripping tightly to the back of a bus.
“Tonight?” you asked, front teeth digging into your bottom lip.
“Yeah, now,” he clarified, “my car’s fixed– I can be there in probably… thirty minutes?”
“Ehm…” your head bumped against the wall. Thirty minutes? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Joel – you did – but it was so late, and you had to get up so early tomorrow.
“Maybe twenty if I speed,” he laughed.
“Joel,” you chided, a smiled tugged at your lips.
“Okay, thirty,” he relented.
You pushed off the wall, a finger curling around the phone cord. “If I say yes you have to be sneaky– and quiet. My landlord doesn’t allow boys to visit.”
“Good thing I ain’t a boy then, sweetheart.”
You snorted, teeth digging into your lip to kill a smile from blooming, “I’m serious, Joel! A girl got evicted last month because she got caught having her boyfriend over.”
“How’s that even legal?” his static voice wondered.
“I don’t know Joel, my landlord… she’s this old lady– super religious and she owns the whole complex– I think she inherited it from her late husband who was a developer or something. Anyway, every time I bump into her, she always questions me about if I have a boyfriend and then gives me this speech about how premarital sex is a sin, and how I’ll go to hell–”
“Shit, baby– move out,” Joel cut you off.
“I can’t,” you sighed, “It was the only place I could afford when I moved here.”
“Ain’t I payin’ you enough?” he teased, “I’ll talk to Ronald about a raise f’you want.”
You let out a chuckle, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate– or professional, to talk about this now, Joel.”
“Alright, baby– always so professional,” he playfully chided, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
You let out a hum, though a small knot tied itself in your stomach at the thought. You didn’t want Joel to get the wrong impression; that you wanted a raise now that you’d let him fuck you.
“See ya in 30?” he said, breaking the static silence, “I’ll be real sneaky.”
“Ok,” you said softly.
You told him your address, making him repeat your apartment number back to you before you hung up. You didn’t want him accidently knocking on the wrong door, and getting you evicted.
Padding back into your bedroom, you grabbed your silk robe hanging off the door. You twisted it around yourself while you turned on the lamp over your bedside table. The light bathed your room in a soft glow. You were starting to wake up a little now. Leaving your bedroom door ajar you walked back down your hallway with soft steps. Stepping into the kitchen, you grabbed a mug from your cupboard, busying yourself with making a cup of tea as you waited for Joel.
Thirty minutes later, you heard the buzz of your doorbell. Abandoning your cup on your kitchen table, you quickly hurried to your door, buzzing him in. Your heart hammered in your chest. The risk of getting caught so late on a Sunday night was low, but you could never be too careful. You waited for him in your doorway, your finger picking at your nail bed as you looked out for him to round the corner.
You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw him, a smile widening across your face as he picked up his pace in a small jog. His grin was wide as well, all teeth and crinkles as he closed the space between you. With a small glance over his shoulder, he made sure he hadn’t been caught as you ushered him inside.
The light in your hallway was low, tinting everything in a warm yellow hue. His hands were on you in an instant, strong hands gliding over your waist from behind as you locked your door. In the next moment you felt his chest press against your back, locking you to his body in an engulfing hug. His nose dragged down the column of your neck, pressing sweet kisses into your skin.
“Hi,” he mumbled.
Leaning into his touch you hummed out a greeting. His grip tightened around you before he turned you around in his hands, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around his neck. God, he was handsome. Soft brown eyes shining under the soft light, you watched as they took you in, traveling down your bare face, down to your silk robe hiding your nighty. A sting of embarrassment panged in your chest under his gaze, maybe you should’ve changed into something else, something a little sexier. Then you realized what kind of sexy he was used to, sheer lingerie, stockings, garter belts and high heels, not whatever underwear you were hiding away in your drawers.
“Shit,” he whispered, eyes blown wide in the low light, “let me kiss you properly, sweetheart.”
His big palm cupped your cheek, bringing you closer before he brushed his lips over yours. He tasted like a mix of his last cigarette and beer. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch, his lips against yours. Joel hummed into the kiss, nose bumping into yours as he held you close, thumb ghosting over your skin. The kiss was quick, but still tender, and when you broke apart, the embarrassment from earlier had faded.
“Missed your lips baby,” he whispered against them, emphasizing his words with another peck.
“You did?” your voice was breathless, eyes half lidded from his affection.
He didn’t answer, only catching your lips in another mind-blowing kiss. His hand not on your cheek traveled from your waist to the curve of your ass, where it squeezed. You jumped a little from his touch, breaking his kiss. Immediately Joel removed his hands, catching himself as he took a step back.
“No?” he asked, eyes searching yours.
A flood of warmth filled your chest, “No, it’s okay– it’s just… late.”
His eyes softened at your words, his palm finding your cheek again to softly rub his thumb over your skin, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, “It’s okay…” you trailed off, your hand grabbing his other hand to intertwine your fingers, “Let’s go to bed?”
With his hand in yours Joel trailed after you down the hallway.
“The bathroom is just in here if you wanna use it?” you stopped at the end of your hallway, pointing to your closed bathroom door. Joel gave you a short nod and a smile, and let go of your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze.
You stepped backwards to push open your bedroom door while he vanished to your bathroom. The alarm clock on your bedside table showed 3.08 in big red letters when your eyes flickered to it as you pulled at the strings of your silk robe. You twisted out of it and hung it back on the hook on your door, before you climbed back into your bed, waiting for Joel.
He walked into your room a few minutes later. You watched him from under the covers, eyes hooded with tiredness as he shed his clothes. Naked, safe for his briefs, he haphazardly folded his clothes, eyes flitting around your room for a place to put them.
“You can just leave them on the dresser,” you said, all cozy under the covers.
Sending you a small nod he sauntered over to your dresser with his clothes half-folded in his hand, where he placed them down gently. He stood there for a moment longer with his back turned, something catching his eye.
“So,” he spoke up, “what’s the review?”
“Huh?” You were confused.
You watched how his shoulders shook, grabbing something off your dresser before turning around, hiding it behind his back as he closed the space between you. You were still confused, a furrow pulling at your eyebrows.
“What d’ya prefer? This,” he started, revealing what he was hiding behind his back, “Or the real thing?”
In his hand he held the box with the dildo he’d modeled for. You’d forgotten all about it in your back seat while you were in Pismo Beach, only noticing it again as you’d parked outside your apartment. You had been meaning to give it back to Joel, didn’t take his ‘joke’ of you keeping it at face value, but then you’d forgotten all about it, leaving you with no choice other than to bring it inside.
“Joel,” you felt a flash of heat burn your cheeks.
“What? I wanna know,” he grinned, fingers fiddling with the cardboard to open it.
You gave him a chastising kick from under the covers, trying to shut the conversation down, but it only made him huff out a laugh.
“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” you said truthfully. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.
“What? Not even once,” his eyebrows knitted together, he almost looked disappointed.
You shook your head, “I was gonna give it back to you when I dropped you off on Friday, but it slipped my mind.”
“Why? I gave it to you,” he pulled the dildo out, the supposed perfect recreation of his package.
“Joel, you couldn’t have been serious about that?” you breathed out a laugh. It was hard to take him seriously with the toy in his hand.
“Well, now I’m a little disappointed, sweetheart,” he placed the box and the dildo on your bedside table, next to your alarm clock, “I really wanted to know your thoughts.”
He crept up the bed as you shifted over to make space, holding open the duvet for him to slip under.
“I’m sorry, Joel– I just didn’t think you were serious about that… and,” you trailed off when he wrapped his strong arms around your body, twisting around in his arms as he pulled you close against him.
“And, what?” he said, his breath huffing against the shell of your ear.
“I… uh, I haven’t… since,” you didn’t know how to say it.
But Joel knew, pulling you closer to rock his hips against your ass, “Haven’t what, sweetheart? Touched yourself?”
He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t not hard – you could feel the semi he was sporting against your backside. It made you lose your trail of thought, as memories of the last time he held you against his body like this, filled your mind.
You had enough sense to shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out as words and not a strangled moan.
“No?” he teased with another rock of his hips, “Well, I have, sweetheart– touched myself thinkin’ of you.”
“Joel,” you couldn’t fight the whine from escaping as he rocked his hips against you again, his big hand slipping under your nighty.
“Touched myself thinkin’ about this beautiful fuckin’ body of yours,” his hand splayed over your tummy, traveling upwards to grab at your breast. “Thought about these pretty tits,” his voice got lower, whispering in your ear as he flicked a finger over your nipple, making you sigh. He let go of your breast, hand gliding down your body to ghost over the hem of your panties, “And this tight little pussy,” he finished.
“Joel,” you sighed, body reacting automatically to his touch. His breath in your ear sent goosebumps down the whole of your body, and a whine fell from your lips as he palmed your heat over your panties, feeling your arousal starting to soak the cotton.
“Yes, sweetheart, say my name as I touch your pussy. Tell me who’s makin’ you feel good.”
Fuck, it took all your strength to gather your thoughts, “Joel, it’s–” you let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit.
“What, baby?”
“It’s– It’s late,” you managed to breathe out.
And just like that, the spell was broken. His hand slipped from your cunt to rest over your waist. You twisted around to face him, a pang of guilt filling your chest.
“I’m s-sorry, I just–”
He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours in a quick kiss. “Don’t you apologize to me,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “If you ain’t feelin’ it, I ain’t feelin’ it, okay?”
You felt yourself nod, your chest filling with gratefulness. You wanted Joel so much, you did, you wanted him to feel good, but you didn’t want it at 3am when you had to wake up in four hours.
“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully, your forehead falling against his.
He shifted his face, cheek brushing against your forehead until you felt him press a kiss to your skin. “Nothin’ to thank me for, my sweet girl.”
You shifted closer to him, cheek boring into his naked chest, “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you told him, “I’m just so tired.”
Pulling you closer to his body, Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, “’s okay, baby, you just close your pretty eyes, okay?”
You nodded against his head before you whispered, “Good night, Joel.”
“Night, sweet girl.”
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“Hey,” you felt a nudge in your side pull you from your dream, “How d’you turn off this thing?”
Then you heard it. Your alarm. The beeping was loud and obnoxious, but it did the job to wake you, usually.
With heavy limbs you sat up on your elbow, goosebumps spreading over the newly exposed skin as you leaned over Joel’s body to press the snooze button. His big hands found your waist when you leaned back, guiding you to straddle his body.
His lips found yours in a soft kiss, then another before he mumbled, “Good mornin’,” against your lips.
He didn’t give you the chance to reply as he pulled you into yet another kiss. It took you by surprise, your hand coming up to press into the pillow next to his head, to hold your weight. Under the duvet you felt his hand travel down your body, slipping under the hem of your nighty and dragging upwards, cupping your ass as he pulled the fabric with him. His touch ignited something in you, making you whimper against his lips.
“There she is,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips with a loud smack to press kisses along your jaw. It made you sigh, your body going lax in his arms as he pulled you closer, mind going blank from his loving. Then he suddenly tightened his arms around your body, his strong hand splaying over your back as he flipped you around to lay on your back beneath him. A small yelp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, the yelp turning into a giggle when he dived into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you as he pressed small kisses against your skin.
With a hasty hand he balled the fabric of your nighty in his hands, pushing it up your body to reveal your naked body to him. He sucked a breath through his teeth at the sight, eyes hungry with lust as they raked over your form.
“Need to fuckin’ taste you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp, coated in residual sleep and arousal, “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you taste this whole weekend.”
You couldn’t hold back the whine at the back of your throat at his words, hips bucking by their own accord where he had your legs splayed open over his thighs. Arousal spread like electricity through your body, where it pooled like dripping honey in your tummy.
“Please,” you begged when his fingers found the hem of your panties, his pointer finger dipping beneath the band to run it across your skin.
“Yeah?” he coaxed, “Want me to eat your little pussy, sweet girl?” his finger stretched at the elastic, letting it slap against your skin as he pulled away. Under him you whined, frantic hands finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. In your hurry to kiss him, you missed his mouth, clumsily bumping your nose into his instead.
It made him breathe out a shallow chuckle, “Okay, baby, okay. I’ll take care of ya.”
He pulled back from you, your hands around his neck falling to your sides, and softly hitting your mattress. Grabbing at the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, he spread them wider, putting your covered cunt on display for him. His eyes drank in your body, studied how soft and pliant you’d gone from his touch.
You watched his face, his eyes, his lip twitching with a wicked smile when you jumped under his finger, starting to press slow circles down on your covered clit. He dipped his finger lower, caressing your folds over the fabric before he pressed two fingers into your covered hole as far as your panties allowed. You could feel how soaked you already were, your dripping cunt fluttering around nothing when he pulled back.
“Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said, voice dripping with pity, “My sweet girl’s just beggin’ to be touched, ain’t she?”
To your own surprise you managed to peep out an answer, “Yes.” Your voice came out strangled and begging, your mind clouded over with Joel.
“Yes, that’s right, baby, you’re such a good girl, let me hear you.” He hooked his finger under the elastic, tapping your ass lightly. You lifted up off the mattress, helping him drag your soaked panties down your legs.
Under him you felt your mouth drop open slightly, watching him as he clasped your panties in his hand, his thumb rubbing at the wetness with a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With his thumb coated in you, he dropped your panties, losing them in the sheets as he brought his attention back on you.
His eyes bored into yours as he lowered himself between your legs pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh. His big hands splayed over the back of your legs, pushing them closer to your chest to putt your naked and dripping cunt back on display. You held your breath as you waited for him to finally touch you where you wanted, but then he hesitated. The air was charged with arousal, his breath fanning over your throbbing clit. A thought of how you might die if he didn’t touch you soon, crossed your mind.
With a desperate whine, your hand tangled in his hair. You didn’t know what to do, so you begged, “Please, Joel?”
His eyes found yours immediately, where he saw how much you needed him, but he needed it in words, “Y’want me to touch you, sweetheart? To eat your pussy?”
“Yes,” the words fell from your lips so fast you almost cut him off, “Please,” you added for good measure.
Your consent was all he wanted. He dipped his head to lick ever so gently at your clit, making you mewl under him, a needy desperate sound, begging for more. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, and sucked, that’s when you turned into a withering moaning mess under him, hips bucking into his mouth, chasing more of the pleasure he was giving you.
Joel hummed against you, the bass of his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot, pulling you deeper under the blanket of pleasure.
When his hand loosened its grip around the back of your thigh to caress your folds, a moan got caught in your throat. “P-please” you stuttered, dying to have his fingers split you open and coaxing you towards your release.
But Joel removed his fingers, continuing to explore you with his tongue instead. He dipped down, tongue lapping at your folds, tasting your arousal like he told you’d he’d been dying to. With one fat lick up the length of your pussy he took your clit back in his mouth, going back to lapping and circling it just right, coaxing you closer and closer.
“Fuck.”
You were hauling quickly towards your orgasm. Your eyebrows twisted together in a tight frown, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair, your leg close to shaking with the intensity. You were right there on the edge.
Then he abruptly pulled away. The disappointing mewl escaped you on instinct, and Joel laughed. Laughed. Your heart twisted in on itself at the sound.
“W-what?” you muttered, confusion painting your features when he sat up.
Joel grinned down at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned down to your face and cupped your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin with tenderness.
“Want you to be good f’me, sweet girl, can you do that?”
Your head moved in his hand, a timid nod as you searched his face. “I–I can be good.”
His grin widened, all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, a small pout forming to kiss away.
“Good girl.”
His mustache tickled your cupid’s bow, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, taste how desperate for him you were.
He left you breathless when he pulled away, your body all loose and pliant from his touch, not registering what he was doing until he was back to sitting between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, his broad shoulders, trailing his happy trail down his torso to his waist, noticing the shape of his hard cock in his briefs, a wet spot staining them where the head was.
Fuck, you wanted him inside you.
Then you noticed his hands, and what he was in them. The dildo, of him. You shifted up the bed in surprise. Your nighty fell down over your chest as you sat up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.
He watched you too, turning the dildo in his hand to nudge at your entrance as he leaned forward to hover over your body, a big hand on your chest pushing you down.
“Are you gonna be good?” 
“Joel,” you gasped, feeling your hole flutter in anticipation.
“Are you?” he pressed, rubbing the silicone head slowly up and down your folds, coating it in your arousal.
“Y-yeah, y-yes,” you nodded, face heating from the obscene slick sounds of your arousal.
With a wicked grin, his eyes flicked back to your aching cunt, before he pushed the head inside slowly, feeding your more and more until the dildo was buried inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips, mouth dropping open from the pleasure of being stretched.
“There you go, sweetheart. ‘s big stretch, isn’t it? Doing so good for me, my good girl, honey, my good fuckin’ girl.”
He pushed the toy in and out in shallow thrusts, working you open around the fake cock. It wasn’t the same, but still the stretch was divine. With his eyes glued to your cunt he pulled the dildo all the way out, only the head notched at your entrance, before slowly thrusting in all the way. You whimpered when you felt him nudge at your spot inside, your hand desperately grabbing for his other arm to anchor you from falling over the edge too soon.
“Joel,” you whimpered, “P-please, t-touch m-my–”
Joel picked up his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with the dildo, the obscene squelching sounds of your cunt filled the air between your moans. His grip tightened in your hand, guiding it to hover over your clit.
“Touch your what, honey?” He teased, pressing your fingers down, guiding them in tight circles.
“Ah– fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten, and tighten, and tighten.
Then it all became too much. With a broken cry you came, squeezing hard around the fake cock. Joel continued fucking you, a small gush of liquid pouring down over the toy with each thrust, as you pulsed and squirmed around it.
Catching your breath, you came down from your high, while small jolts of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake like a leaf in a storm. It was like your ears were ringing, before you realized they were actually ringing.
“This fuckin’ alarm,” Joel muttered, hovering over you to turn it off.
His voice brought you back to earth, as you turned your head to look at the time. Shit, you were gonna be late!
With shaky hands you glided your hand down your cunt to grab at the base of the toy still inside you, “Joel, we’re gonna be late for your meeting,” you murmured, slipping the dildo from your cunt. Everything was sticky and messy between your legs, a big wet stain growing under your ass.
Joel pushed your hand away, like he was scolding you for touching what was his. “We can be a little late, sweetheart,” he said calmly, before ducking down to press a kiss to your clit.
You shifted up the bed, away from his touch, anxiety an endless spiral in your tummy. “No, we can’t, Joel– They told me it’s a pitch for a new movie, you’ll miss out on a big opportunity if you don’t show.”
Between your legs, Joel’s head dropped to your chest, as a pained sigh left his lungs. He went quiet for a beat as you watched the messy curls at the top of his head, then he lifted his head to look at you, “Okay, then.”
You felt bad leaving him hanging as you both got out of bed, his rock-hard cock strained desperately against the fabric of his briefs – just dying to be touched.
“Joel, I-I’m sorry,” you closed the space between you, snaking your arms around him.
“Sweetheart, ya need to stop apologizin’”, he placed a dry kiss to the top of your head, steady hands finding your waist. Your heart swelled in your chest. He made you feel so safe.
You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’, before catching yourself, “Okay,” you nodded against his chest. You basked in his touch for another minute, his strong arms around you, breathing in the comforting scent of him – the intoxicating mix of his faded cologne, cigarettes and sex.
“You were enjoyin’ it though, weren’t you?” Joel asked as he pulled away. You could see the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, “So tell me, sweetheart... it better’n the real thing?”
“No,” you said, your own teasing smile tickling your lips as you detangled yourself from him, and turned around to head towards the bathroom, “Real thing’s better.”
Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, and then Joel was pulling you back against him. He pressed himself against you so you could feel how hard he still was, his aching cock barely contained by his briefs.
“Attagirl,” he half-whispered, half-groaned into your ear, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. 
“I need a shower,” you said with a giggle, stepping away from him before turning around again, only for Joel to pull you close once more. He found your eyes, his hands barely loosening their grip on your body. You could still feel him against you, his hard cock now pressed against your stomach. “Do you… maybe,” you bit down on your bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face.
“Wanna shower with you?” he helped you with a grin, and you nodded.
Your shower was cramped, too small to fit two people, and even though you had been the one to ask, you still felt nervous under the streaming water. He looked so good; your eyes couldn’t help but trail the water droplets racing down his thick muscles. He watched you too, but more openly, his eyes not afraid to trail down your body – to glide over your tits, down your back, and over the curve of your ass.
And then there was his cock, still hard and leaking, making its presence known between you like a third person. What made it worse was that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just went about washing his body like nothing, pushing back his wet curls as he rinsed your shampoo from his hair.
Did he want you to say something? The thought fluttered in your stomach.
“Um, Joel?” your voice echoed against the tiles.
You watched as he tipped his head forward from under the showerhead, eyes blinking at you as soapsuds hit his broad shoulders and ran down his chest.
“You know– um… I can–”
Jesus Christ! Could you be less sexy.
When he didn’t say anything, you breathed out a nervous sigh, eyes flitting down to his cock, hoping he would take the hint.
And he did.
“You wanna touch my cock, sweet girl?” His whole demeanor shifted.
“Would that– would that be okay?” you said, your teeth catching on your bottom lip.
“More than okay, sweetheart,” he said, with a devilish grin.
You took a few steps closer, a shaky hand landing on his waist while the other hovered between your bodies, right above where his heavy cock twitched in anticipation.
You didn’t know what to do. Well, you did. You’d seen it enough times at work to know, but you’d never actually done it before. Another reminder of just how inexperienced you were when it came to all of this. You looked at him with uncertainty, for guidance, and without uttering a single word, Joel knew what you were asking.
He curled his fingers around your wrist, bringing it up to his face, and spat. Using that tender grip he guided your hand down between your bodies again – the back of your hand brushed against the rough hair of his happy trail – and down to the base of his aching cock.
“There ya go,” he whispered as your fingers wrapped around him, Joel’s spit smearing over his shaft as you moved upwards in an experimenting stroke, “Good girl, just like that,” he hissed through his teeth.
You tilted your head to watch his face. Watched how his eyes were so fixated on your hand wrapped around him as you began to slowly stroke his cock, familiarizing yourself with the weight and feel of him in your hand. You didn’t miss the way his breathing shifted, releasing a sound you’d never heard come from his lips before. A whimper.
“Am–am I doing okay?” you asked, your eyes following his down to your hand wrapped around him. He was so big in your hand, your fingers struggling to meet around the girth of him.
He hissed out a strained laugh. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing so good– massage the head for me a little,” Joel groaned.
You did as you were told, bringing your hand up to the tip with a tug, squeezing out a pearl of precum. It dripped down over your hand, your thumb skating over the sensitive head, and smearing it all over.
“Shit,” Joel hissed, “keep doin’ that, sweetheart, bein’ so good f’me,” he praised, encouraging you.
You’d never seen Joel like this before. So at your mercy– at anyone’s mercy – always the one to take charge. But now he was falling apart from your touch. He encouraged you further as his breath got heavier. You sped up the strokes over his cock, and his body slumped into yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he whispered breathy babblings of praise into your skin. A glowing feeling of pride grew in your chest as you brought him closer and closer to his release.
“I’m close, baby,” he whimpered in your ear, “don’t fuckin’ stop.”
So you didn’t.
With your hand tight around his cock, you quickened your pace, tracing your thumb over his slit just like he’d told you to do earlier. A slick noise of spit and precum echoed against your bathroom tiles. His thighs tensed, his hand grabbed at your waist to pin you to his body, and you knew he was right on the edge.
“Fuck, I’m comin’.”
With a string of praising curses, he came apart in your hand. His thighs clenched, his heavy balls tightening as cum spurted from his tip in ribbons over your hand. The bass of his voice vibrated against your skin, as you continued working him through his high, slicking up your hand and fingers even more.
You squeezed him until there was only a small dribble pearling at his tip. A white stream of cum ran down his cock and down to his balls, dripping down onto the tiles of your shower floor. And then it was too much, and Joel hissed, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to dab your hand away.
He didn’t say anything, only grabbing your face with both hands, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. With your hand messy from his release, you didn’t know where to touch him, opting to grab at his elbow with your other hand to steady yourself.
Out in the hallway, your phone rang, forcing you to breathlessly pull away. With a sorry smile, you ran your messy hand under the showerhead before quickly pulling at the shower curtain.
The phone rang loudly as you tiptoed down the hallway. Water droplets ran down your skin, leaving a trail of dark spots on the carpet. Your hand clung to the towel you’d wrapped around yourself while the other hurried to answer the phone.
“Hello?” you sang.
“Hi, sweetie, it’s your uncle,” a gruff voice answered.
“Oh, hi,” you said, leaning against the wall.
Down the hall your bathroom door opened, steam framing Joel’s body as he stepped out naked as the day he was born, with a towel resting over his shoulders. His heavy cock soft between his strong thighs– it was like a scene straight out of a porno, one he’d probably starred in. He caught your eye, and smiled, making his way towards you as he brought the towel up to dry his hair, his biceps flexing with the effort.
“What was that?” you stuttered, completely missing what your uncle had said on the other end.
“Almost hung up on ya, I said,” your uncle repeated.
“Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”
“I was just calling to say I’m driving a Corvette down to LA in a couple of days for a client. Was thinking I’d take you out to dinner– catch up– make sure you’re not getting up to any trouble down there,” he laughed.
His tone was lighthearted, but you couldn’t help but cringe. The trouble in question reaching his hand out to trace a drop trailing down your exposed collarbone, ducking down to place a teasing kiss to your skin.
“D-dinner sounds nice,” you managed to choke out, “Um, I know a nice Italian place down in Santa Monica.”
“Sounds great, sweetie! I’ll call ya after I’ve dropped off the car Thursday afternoon,” your uncle’s static voice replied.
“Thursday afternoon,” you repeated, “Ok, see you then!”
“So…” Joel started, his arms snaking their way around your form. “I ain’t the only man who wants a piece of ya,” he joked, after you’d hung up the phone,
“That was my uncle, Joel,” you let him know, your body melting against his touch.
“He’s takin’ you to dinner?” he queried.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “he’s driving a car down here for work, so he wanted to see me.”
Joel hummed, dropping his head to brush his lips over yours as his hand splayed over your waist slid down to the curve of your ass.
“Nonono,” you chuckled, pulling away, “Joel, we’re already late as is!”
“So what,” Joel groaned, pulling you back for another kiss, hands tightening their grip on your ass, before trailing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, “We could stay in ya know... enjoy the real thing.”
Joel’s kisses continued along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.
“As tempting as that sounds,” you let out through a small groan as you felt his tongue tickle that spot under your jaw, “We can’t cancel this meeting.”
Joel’s lips stopped their descent towards your neck, and he took a breath, the force of it tickling your skin, before he lifted his head, lips grazing across your jaw as he kissed the corner of your mouth again.
“Later,” you promise him, eyes looking into his. Joel’s smile was wistful, another small sigh escaping through his nostrils before he brushed his lips over yours.
“Later.”
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“Let’s get started? Or do we want some coffees before we start?” Ronald asked from his seat at the head of the table.
You were seated in a chair in the corner, the cigarette smoke hung low over the room. In your lap your notebook rested, cracked spine opened to a random blank page while your fingers fiddled with your pen.
All the big important men from VCA were here, eager to finally work with the infamous Joel Packer on their new big-budget project. The last couple of years had been big for Joel, multiple magazine photoshoots, longer features and obviously modeling for a sextoy, but this film would be his biggest opportunity. It would bring in a lot of money, and Ronald knew it. He couldn’t hide the dollar signs in his eyes behind his ‘friendly’ grin.
“Ey, sweetheart!” Ronald raised his voice. You lifted your gaze from your notebook, curious as to what he was yelling about.
“Yeah, you!” He looked straight at you, a hand waving you towards him. Did he forget your name? You wouldn’t put it past him.
Leaving your notebook and pen in your chair you walked over to him, hands wringing behind your back as you stood behind Joel where he sat to Ronald’s right. He looked at you with impatience, a crude finger motioning you closer.
“Why don’t you go get us all some coffees, sweetie?” he spat out the order, his sour breath hitting you in your face.
“Um, uh,” you looked to Joel for help. This wasn’t your job; this was a job for an intern. It was important for you to be here, to take notes, to know what arrangements needed to be done, and which people to call.
“Um, uh,” Ronald parroted, “just do it– isn’t it what I’m paying you for?”
It wasn’t, but now everyone was looking at you. Everyone except for Joel. His gaze bored into the teak in front of him, fingers tightly pinched around a cigarette. With no help from Joel, you held your tongue and muttered a “Yes, sir,” to Ronald before you turned on heels.
“Alright! I wanna start by introducing Cheryl here, making her film debut alongside Joel–” you heard Ronald start as you slipped through the door of the meeting room.
Outside the meeting room, you were met with a brown hallway, identical to the left and right. Wood paneling clad the walls, and you couldn’t help your eyes from peeking through the glass partition walls of other meeting rooms as you made your way down the hall. Everything looked the same. You turned a corner, and you swore you’d been there before. After walking for what felt like a small eternity, you made it to a break room with a small kitchenette.
The coffee in the pot looked old and stale, and you poured it out in the sink. As you waited for the fresh pot to brew you searched through the cupboards for a coffee carafe. The cupboards of the kitchenette were pretty empty, only filled with mugs and drinking glasses. With a sigh you kneeled to look through the cabinet below the sink.  You tried your best to be fast, not wanting to miss anything important. Finally, you found what you were looking for. With fresh coffee in one hand, and paper cups in the other, you made your way back down a hallway you hoped would bring you back to the meeting.
A couple of wrong turns later you let out a sigh of relief as you peaked Joel through the glass partition wall of the meeting room. This better be good enough for Ronald, you thought as you opened the door, not bothering to knock.
“And I think that’s about it,” one of the men opposite Joel said as you placed the coffee and paper cups on the table, “We’ll break for lunch and go ahead with the chemistry test later today.”
Did you really just miss the whole meeting?
“Sounds great,” Ronald said, pushing his chair out, and standing to his feet to shake the hands of the men from VCA. Then the rest of the room came alive as people got up from their seats and gathering their things. In front of you a chair bumped into you, pushing you a little off balance.
“Oh! Sorry– didn’t see you there.”
It was Cheryl, Joel’s new co-star. She was young, just turned twenty-one if you remembered correctly, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded down her back. Her light blue dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves while the deep v-neck showed off her cleavage.
You shook your head and put on a smile, muttering an “It’s okay,” as you stepped out of her way, and shifted closer to Joel. He was busy gathering the papers spread out in front of him on the table, tapping them lightly against the teak before gathering them in his hands, turning towards you and Cheryl.
When you didn’t make a move to leave, Cheryl cleared her throat, widening her eyes at Joel as they flickered towards you. Your heart sunk in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to take her hint – you knew when you weren’t wanted.
“I’ll uh… I’ll wait for you down in the reception,” you muttered to Joel, “Let me know what you want for lunch, and I’ll get you something.” Before he could say anything, you turned around to leave, grabbing your notebook and pen.
You knew you shouldn’t have looked back as you made your way out the door, but you did. The cold stone in your chest sank lower as you watched them. Cheryl’s body curled towards Joel as they talked, her hand landing on his bicep as she let out a giggly laugh. It made your heart sting, but maybe not as much as the ache of watching Joel’s bright smile, the one he so often gave you.
Over fifteen minutes later, Joel finally walked into the reception where you waited for him. You were hard to miss where you sat on one of the couches, reading a magazine, the only person occupying the space.
“Whatcha readin’?” he asked, slumping down next to you, so close his arm brushed against yours.
You couldn’t watch his bright eyes, and the cheeky smile tugging at his lips. So, you held up one of the porn magazines you’d grabbed off the coffee table, blocking his view of your face, substituting it with the woman adorning the front and posing seductively to the camera, showing off the biggest boobs you’d ever seen.
“Industry news,” you shrugged.
You earned yourself a chuckle, “Anythin’ interestin’?”
“Not really,” you sighed, quickly shutting the magazine, and throwing it haphazardly on the table.
You could feel his warmth beside you, his broad frame, and strong arms. The same arms who’d held you so close this morning. Still, you didn’t look at him, your gaze falling to your fiddling hands in your lap. A piece of skin around your thumb had come loose, and it burned as you pulled at it.
“Um…” you started, still watching your hands, “What’s the plan for lunch? You want me to go down to that deli you like– get you a sandwich?”
Joel’s arm brushed against you as he shifted in his seat, bucking his hips slightly to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Ain’t no need to do that for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips.
“Well, it’s kinda my job,” you mumbled, your face pulling up into a slight frown as you ripped the loose skin around your thumb.
“Yeah– but,” Joel drew a breath of his cigarette.
Now you looked at him, eyebrows pulled tight in a real frown, “But what?”
He watched you, eyes dancing over your face as he took another drag, releasing the smoke out the corner of his mouth.
“Nothin’.”
You couldn’t interpret his face with the way he was looking at you, almost as he was searching for something. A silence grew between you – it was ugly and festering, like a canyon had grown between you – it was something you’d never felt with Joel before.
“A sandwich sounds nice,” he finally spoke across the silence, and you nodded.
“Um– can I borrow your car?” you asked, clearing your throat of your anxiety.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” It was like your question had woken him.
Joel had driven you both into work today, your car sitting pretty in its parking space outside your apartment complex. He rested his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he fished his car keys from his jeans pocket and handed them to you.
“They have me set up in a trailer out on the lot next door– I’ll wait for ya there, alright?” The hand handing you his keys locked around yours, caging them between your hands.
You squeezed his hand, the familiar weight of it in your hand, the tenderness in which he held you, made you feel a little better. Shrinking the deep canyon between you to a ravine.
“Um, why exactly?” you asked, eyes glued to your intertwined hands.
“Shit– sorry,” Joel shook his head and shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours, “they want me and Cheryl to have a chemistry test before they go ahead with signin’ the contracts. It’s nothin’ big or anythin’– just a blowjob.”
Just a blowjob.
You nodded slowly. It was just a blowjob, but it was a blowjob from Cheryl. Cheryl who was younger with the perfect body. Cheryl who made him smile and laugh. Cheryl who could give him a blowjob, and not some sorry excuse of a handjob.
“Oh, okay,” you peeped, loosening your grip around his hand, clasping the keys in your hand.
You got up from the couch before he could say anything more, “I’ll go get you your lunch then.”
His cigarette resting in the ashtray had burned out, like your conversation with Joel. You bent slightly to grab your purse when his hands clasped around your wrist, bringing your attention back on him.
“’s everythin’ alright?” he asked you as he got up from the couch as well, closing the space between you.
Your lips pulled into a smile, one you hoped was convincing, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t it?”
His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, shifting your face to look at him. “’s just for work, you know,” he told you.
Your head was nodding even before he’d finished talking, your face still pulled tight in a smile, “Yeah, Joel, I know.”
“Okay,” he whispered and leaned closer. You shifted your face in his palm, his lips hitting your other cheek in a short peck before you were pulling away. His fingers like a bracelet around your wrist, fell heavy to his side.
“See you in a little bit,” you told him before pushing the door to the reception open and stepping outside.
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Some forty minutes later you were knocking on a trailer door with the sign ‘Joel Packer’ hanging on the front. In your other hand you were balancing two coffees and a bag with two sandwiches. You knocked again when nothing happened, scared you’d shown up to the wrong trailer for a second, even with the sign telling you, you were in the right place.
“Joel? I have your lunch.”
“Come in,” he answered almost immediately.
You opened the trailer door and stepped inside, careful not to spill the coffees all over the carpeted floor of his trailer as you balanced everything. With the door closed you turned around, eyes scanning the cramped room for Joel.
He was laying on the couch, one hand down the front of his pants where he palmed himself over his briefs – a lazy smile resting over his features as he took you in.
“Oh! Sorry,” you quickly looked away, scurrying to place his food on the nearest table.
Behind you Joel got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you to wrap his arms around your body, and press his front against your ass. You jumped in his grasp, your hands finding his where they rested around your waist.
“Stop apologizin’” he whispered in your ear, his teeth catching on your earlobe, “was just gettin’ ready, baby,” his breath was hot against the column of your neck, and you felt his cock grow against your ass. “Ain’t gonna have any trouble gettin’ hard now though,” he chuckled.
“Joel,” you whined, the sound pathetic at the back of your throat.
“Yes, baby, let me hear ya,” you could feel the bass in his voice vibrate against your skin.
His hands spread over your body, drinking you in with his touch, grabbing at your breast while pressing tender kisses to your neck. You melted against him, body soft and pliant. In an instant you were back in your memories from this morning, and you couldn’t fight the whimper from falling from your lips. With closed eyes your memories mixed with your present. Images of how he’d kissed you, touched you, and taken care of you this morning blended with the firm press of his body against yours and his calloused hands exploring you; like how you could still see your reflection in rippling water.
“Joel,” you tried again.
“I know, my sweet girl,” he cooed.
Behind you he bucked his hips against your ass, the bulge of his hard cock splitting your cheeks. You felt your arousal wet your panties, an ache of anticipation settling in your core.
“Fuck, sweetheart– wish it was you getting on your knees for me later.” He whispered his filthy words in your ear with another buck of his hips. “Wanna feel your tight little throat around my cock as you choke on it.”
His confession made a nervousness intertwine itself with your blinding arousal. You turned around in his arms, your face nuzzled into the dip where his neck met his collarbone, “I-I’ve never done that before.” Your confession was barely a whisper, the words muffled into his skin.
His grip tightened around you, and you felt the way his body moved under your cheek, a comforting hand landed carefully at the back of your neck. His jaw and cheek bumped against the top of your head as he dipped down to your face and his breath changed like he was about to say something, but then was interrupted by a hollow knock on the trailer door.
“We’re ready for you on set in fifteen minutes, Mr. Miller,” a voice called.
With the knock the spell was broken. You untangled yourself from his embrace, a shy smile ghosting over your lips as you stepped away.
“You should eat.”
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Again, you’d agreed to watch him film. Joel had convinced you on his way out the trailer door, his hand resting at the small of your back as he led you towards the set. It was a small shoot – only Joel and Cheryl, the cameraman, the sound guy, a couple people from VCA, Ronald, and you. In the time you’d worked for Joel, you couldn’t remember a set feeling this intimate (not that you usually stayed to watch– not unless he explicitly asked).
The only goal for the scene was to find out if Joel and Cheryl worked well together on camera – hence no specific storyline or roles they were supposed to act out. Joel was getting his dick sucked, but other than that they were free to take the scene whichever way they wanted.
The room buzzed with quiet conversation as the cameraman got the camera and film ready. Joel was already seated on the couch where the scene would take place. His legs were spread wide, his hard bulge on display as he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Cheryl had taken up the seat beside him, leaning her elbow on the back and resting her head in her hands. They were talking, but you couldn’t hear from where you stood in the corner. Every now and then Joel’s eyes would search for yours, meeting them for a moment as a small smile spread across his lips, before they would flick back to Cheryl, joining their conversation again.
A few minutes later, the cameraman gave the okay to start shooting, making the rest of the set settle down. Joel still smoked his cigarette, so you took it upon yourself to be a good assistant and walk over to him with an ashtray.
A smile spread across Joel’s face when he saw you approach. His arm came up to rest over the back of the couch, his body opening to you with curiosity. You gave him a small smile in return, presenting the ashtray to him with a teasing raise of your eyebrow.
“Just ‘nother drag, sweetheart,” he teased, placing his cigarette back between his lips.
“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, stealing his cigarette from his mouth with two pinched fingers.
The rest of the smoke in his lungs came out in small chuckles, his hands gathering in his lap as he leaned slightly towards you, moony eyes watching you. He was about to say something before,
“Quiet on set,” the cameraman interrupted with a shout.
You wanted to do something. Cup his cheek, kiss him, anything to just touch him, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep it professional. Instead, you gave him another small smile before you walked back to your previous spot in the corner.
“And… action!”
With the shout of the cameraman, the film was rolling, and the shoot had started.
Leaning against the wall again, you crossed your arms over your chest as you watched Cheryl sink to her knees between Joel’s spread legs. On her lips she wore an innocent pout while her hands caressed his thighs.
“Wanna put my mouth on it,” she said in a sweet voice.
“Yeah, baby? What do you want in your pretty little mouth?” Joel’s voice was deep and coaxing, his hand cupping Cheryl’s chin where his thumb ghosted over her skin.
Cheryl tilted her face down slightly, eyes big and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes.
“Your cock, sir,” she pouted.
You still didn’t know much of the plot to the porno they were shooting, but it was clear that they were going in a specific direction. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to slip into a more dominant character in the pornos he played in, but this new element of innocence from his scene partner wasn’t something he often did.
“You want me to teach you how to suck cock like a proper whore, sweet girl?”
Sweet girl.
You watched how Cheryl’s head nodded in his palm, teeth catching on her bottom lip, and a wicked smile tugged at the corners of Joel’s mouth. It made you shift your weight, arms tightening around your body.
“Alright…” Joel’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, “Take my cock out,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.
Cheryl obediently did as he said, her hands messing with the buttons on his jeans. Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath – it was easier that way, he’d told you earlier in his trailer. Cheryl gasped as Joel’s hard cock sprung free. Her eyes wide as she watched how his cock slapped against his lower stomach.
“’s big isn’t it, sweet girl?”
Again.
Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, pulling at the loose skin with a burning ache.
“So big, sir,” Cheryl agreed, nodding her head.
“Too big for your little mouth, sweetheart?” Joel teased, taking himself in his hand, pulling gentle strokes up and down.
Cheryl shook her head again, “No, sir! I can take it!”
Joel huffed out a laugh at that, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you can, slut.”
His degrading words pulled a moan from Cheryl, and not a second later her mouth was on him. Joel laughed again, another huffing chuckle leaving him as his heavy hand came to rest at the top of her head, guiding her down on him.
“That’s it, slut, suck that big cock– take it all the way down that whore throat,” he encouraged, head tipping back in pleasure. The wet sounds echoing through the room were obscene, pornographic. Sticky strings of spit clung to Cheryl’s chin and dripped down to her breasts where she’d tugged at the V of her neckline to expose them.
“Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that,” Joel moaned, eyes squeezed shut with a look of pleasure coating his features like he’d ascended to heaven.
My sweet girl.
The room spun, and you pressed your back harder against the wall, like it would fall down over you if you didn’t press up against it. Or maybe it was you who would cave in.
That pet name. That fucking pet name.
You needed to step out if you wanted to breathe, your throat tightening up as your thoughts drifted; to this morning in your bed and then again in the shower, to the two of you in that motel bed, to Joel’s hand on your knee as he’d knelt in front of you by the pool in Pismo Beach. Burning tears pressed behind your eyelids. You couldn’t watch any more, couldn’t hear any more, you couldn’t.
As quietly as you could you stepped out of the set. Your eyes pinched together in a squint as the hot LA afternoon sun blazed down on you. The air hot and stuffy, but not as suffocating as you felt inside.
Why did you feel this way? Jealous of another woman?
Joel wasn’t your boyfriend… at least not in so many words, but after Pismo Beach and his confession, he felt like yours. Someone you can’t help but fall in love with. That’s what he’d told you.
You couldn’t keep your thoughts from spiraling. Fall in love with? How could he be in love with you? You’d only had sex twice, never been on a proper date. You didn’t know who he was outside work. His touch and his kisses felt good, but how could you know if it was more than that – more than just something physical. He’d never called you his girlfriend. Why did you have any right to be upset right now?
This was his job. You knew that before you got involved with him. It wasn’t a problem for you, you’d told him so in the job interview. You’d spoken the truth at the time, but now you weren’t so sure.
Numbed by your realization, you stepped back inside. The scene you were met with only affirmed your thoughts.
You couldn’t give him what he wanted.
They’d moved positions. Cheryl’s head hung off the armrest, perfect boobs bouncing beneath Joel as he fucked her throat. It was lewd, and dirty and plain vulgar. With every thrust of his hips Joel earned himself a quiet gag. Under him, her body was completely at his mercy. He pulled back every once in a while, to let her breath, before plunging his hard cock back down her throat. Ropes of bubbling spit escaped her mouth and ran down her face.
Joel was completely in control, using her throat purely for his own pleasure. Groans and moans spilled from his lips in between filthy praises and ‘good girl’’s. Cheryl’s body squirmed under him, her hand rubbing quickly at her clit under her dress, edging herself towards her orgasm.
This is what Joel wanted. Someone like Cheryl– someone who was confident and skilled, someone who knew what she was doing.
You watched Joel’s thrusts turn sloppy, and that now familiar pinch in his brow let you know he was about to bust his load. With a quick motion he jerked his cock back, taking his throbbing and sensitive cock in hand, fisting himself quickly. Cheryl gasped for air, before she withered with her orgasm.
Joel groaned louder than you’d ever heard him before, his eyes flicking up from Cheryl’s squirming body to find yours. A smile spread across his face then, and then he was spilling over his knuckles and painting Cheryl’s face with his release.
“Shit,” Joel panted, coming down. His hand squeezed the last few drops of his cum out of his cock and onto Cheryl’s tongue.
“Aaaand– cut,” the camera man yelled.
Joel dropped the act immediately, stepping away from a ruined Cheryl as his cock went soft in his hand.
“Shit,” Cheryl groaned, wiping some of the mix of spit and Joel’s cum from her face.
“You okay?” Joel asked, tender hands helping her sit upright.
Cheryl giggled sweetly, big smile blossoming over her features, “Okay? More than okay, Joel– fucking amazing.”
As the gentle lover you knew him to be, Joel helped Cheryl clean up her face after getting handed a towel, but not before assessing the picture he’d painted– which wasn’t much, not compared the cumshots he usually gave out.  
“If I knew I’d be filmin’ today I wouldn’t have jerked of this morning,” he laughed, wiping her face.
It wasn’t funny.
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part three -> here
i hope this was okay? and that you liked this! <3 as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3
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© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!
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swarvey · 2 months
Note
Can you do bachelor hcs where farmer is like super hurt? Like blood gushing from their abdomen or smth?? Like basically life threatening
when they think you're not going to make it | sdv bachelors x gn!reader
summary -> how some of the boys react to seeing you come out of the mines unconscious with nearly fatal wounds. warnings -> blood and injuries, panic attacks, harsh language
a/n: basically a more severe version of this series lol, i hope you enjoy!!! <3 alex's is probs the longest bc i was inspired heh, i started with alex and shane, but lmk if y'all want more!
alex
feels like his throat is closing in on itself when he sees you all beaten up in harvey's clinic
harvey has to yell at linus to get him out of the room when he keeps trying to reach you
completely panics at the thought of losing you
he just doesn't want to be alone again
it was no secret alex hated hospitals, and harvey's small clinic was no exception. he always tried to leave his appointments with the doctor as soon as he could, and although he would accompany you to yours, he preferred to stand outside until you finished. everything about the environment was too much for him, too painful.
so when linus — the local homeless guy he never really cared to talk to — caught him on the street and practically begged him to go to the clinic, he wasn't entirely convinced. only when your name slipped off his tongue did his eyes widen, his feet moving before his mind could catch up.
alex hated hospitals, and now he had a reason to hate them even more.
"y/n?"
his voice was barely audible as the world around him began to fade, only focusing on your paled face and the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around your torso. his breath got stuck in his chest, and an all too familiar feeling began to swarm him —images of his poor mother laying in a cold hospital bed, monitors beeping rapidly as the doctors failed to save her.
not again. please, not again.
"get him out of here!" harvey demanded, pushing him away from your body. alex blinked, realizing he'd moved past the doctor and was desperately trying to hold onto you. "alex, you have to step away, or else i won't be able to help them."
"stop it, they need me! let me go," he loudly protested. he knew it was childish; he knew he sounded like the same kid he was all those years ago, begging to see his mom one last time, but he didn't care. this was you, and he couldn't lose you. he couldn't lose anyone else.
despite his efforts, alex was swiftly dragged away by linus's unexpected strength. before he knew it, he was standing outside the clinic in the cool evening air, chest heaving as he tried to breathe.
"take some deep breaths," the older man said, somehow sounding level-headed. "it'll be okay."
"the fuck do you know?" alex snapped, voice wavering. "you don't know anything about what it's like, do you? what it's like to lose someone? to watch someone die?" his voice hitched, tears beginning to well in his eyes before spilling down his cheeks. "i can't do this. i-i can't do this again, not again, not after last time — i can't—"
"hey." strong hands planted themselves on his shoulders, and his panicked gaze met linus's kind eyes. "this isn't the first time i've dragged people out of the mines, alright? trust me, i've seen worse. they'll be okay."
"you don't know that," alex replied weakly. "they might not make it."
"they're strong, you know that."
"she was strong, too. my mom was the strongest person on this planet." more tears blurred his vision. "look where she ended up."
linus sighed, dropping his arms. "she was," he agreed, and alex looked up in surprise, "but this is different, alex."
"how do you—"
"alex." he turned, meeting harvey's exhausted smile. "you can come in now." alex nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve and giving linus a a grateful look before walking in.
your face was still pale and you weren't awake, but it was clear you were much better than before. a new, clean bandage covered your abdomen, and an iv was attached to your arm.
alex let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "so, they'll be okay?" he asked, sitting on the chair beside you.
"yes, with some recovery, of course," harvey said, sounding just as relieved as alex felt. "though, i would strongly advise not letting them go to the mines for a while. an injury like this won't heal quicky, and it will likely scar. please talk to them after they wake."
"got it, doc. seriously, thank you so much." with another smile and a nod, harvey walked to another part of the clinic, leaving alex alone with you. he kept repeating the doctor's words in his head as he grabbed your limp hand, watching your chest fall up and down with each breath. "you'll be okay," he whispered, though it wasn't you he was trying to convince.
as alex drifted off to sleep next to you, he silently reminded himself to stop by linus's tent the following morning.
shane
he usually acts pissed at you whenever you get hurt, but it's only bc he knows you can handle yourself
usually you can, anyway, which is why he's worried when you don't come home when you said you would
he's quick to leave the house and immediately starts looking for you (tries to convince himself you're just running late)
in complete shock when he sees you in dr. harvey's arms as he rushes into the clinic with maru beside him
shane glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last minute, frown deepening when you still didn't appear in the doorway. he could practically hear you chastising him for being too dramatic, but he didn't care — you'd never been this late before, and a tugging feeling in his gut told him there was something wrong.
swearing under his breath, he threw on his jacket and left the farm, telling himself that you probably just got caught up at the saloon, or maybe you stopped by the community center. then again, you had mentioned you wanted to get back into fishing—
"maru, get the door!"
a cold wave washed over shane's entire body, making him halt mid-step.
all he could focus on was your bloodied face hanging from harvey's arms as he rushed you into the clinic, maru hot on his tail.
for a second, time seemed to stop.
then, he was sprinting to catch the door and run in after them, panicked words spewing from his mouth before he could even process his thoughts.
"what the— what the fuck happened? where did you even—? are they going to be okay, oh shit, are they gonna wake up—"
"shane," harvey gritted out through his teeth, "you need to leave, now."
immediately, shane stood his ground, jaw clenched. "i'm not fuckin' going anywhere, not 'til they're awake."
"shane," the doctor repeated in a softer tone, eyes pleading with him, "i can't work on them with you in the room. this wound is deep — i need to operate, and you can't be here."
"please," maru added quietly, looking more distressed than shane had ever seen the typically laidback girl. "th-they might not make it."
harvey gave her a look, but didn't deny her words. shane felt his stomach drop.
then, wordlessly, he turned and slammed open the door into the waiting room, forcing himself into a seat as he bit back panicked tears. maru's words kept playing back in his head like a broken record, and suddenly, shane realized he might have to face a terrifying world without you in it.
"fuck," he cursed, letting his head fall into his hands to hide the hot tears streaming down his face. at first, he thought he was angry — he always told you to be careful, that you shouldn't be running around so damn carelessly all the time, you're not fuckin' invincible. you never listened, of course, always spewing something stupid about doing what's best for everyone. after hearing that phrase more than a handful of times, shane thought it was pretty reasonable for him to be a little pissed.
in that moment, though, who the hell was he kidding? he was nowhere near pissed; he was scared.
you couldn't die, not yet — not when he just got better, not when he still had so much left to say to you. the thought of never being able to see your smile again made him nauseous, and he wished he could rewind back to the morning so he could tug you back into bed with him. stay, he would say. you're not leaving my side today, alright?
he knew it wouldn't have worked. he would still try, though.
shane didn't realize how long he stayed in the same position until the waiting room doors creaked open, his head shooting up at the sound. harvey greeted him with a nod, which he returned stiffly as he stood up.
"d-did everything go okay?" he asked, swallowing in an attempt to soothe his rough voice. "are they—?"
"they're fine," harvey replied, a small smile upturning his lips at the sound of shane's relieved swears.
"thank fuck, i don't know what i would've— it doesn't matter, can i come in?" he barely waited for a response before slipping past the doctor and finding your bed.
he caught maru on her way out, giving her another nod. she smiled, wider than harvey's, before making her way to the other room.
shane hesitantly grabbed your hand as he sat down in the chair beside you, scared he might break you if he held you too roughly. when you didn't stir, he laced his fingers with yours and held them to his forehead, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your hand.
"you scared the shit out of me," he sighed, shaking his head. "god, i don't know what i would've done if you— if i couldn't—" he couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence, resorting to giving your hand another kiss. "you better wake up, you hear me? i'll fuckin' kill you if you don't." he half expected you to answer. he could hear your voice in his head telling him to stop acting so tough, that you could see right through him.
instead, the sound of your steady breaths filled the room, and even then, shane felt like that was your way of telling him everything would be okay.
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causenessus · 2 months
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Hi! Congratulations on your 1K, you really deserve it! I've just seen your post about your event and was thinking of sending something. Could you write ⭐️ with Sakusa where the reader is his roommate and suffer from insomnia ? And could the reader be personality-wise like Sakusa, but the two are already close friends or whatever you want them to be ? This is maybe silly lol, anyway thank you for this event it’s really cool!
can't sleep? | sakusa k.
sakusa x f!reader
written in second person
one word prompt from 1k followers event: ⭐ -> insomnia
"maybe i'll just place my hands over you and close my eyes real tight. there's a light in your eyes and you know <3" from look on down from the bridge by mazzy star
word count: 2.8k words
anon. thank u for this. u have fed all the omi girlies well tonight <3 thank you so much for requesting and i hope you enjoy this fic!!!
notes: lots of fluff <3 THEY ARE STRETCHING!!! JUST STRETCHING TOGETHER i stress this bc i couldn't take myself seriously and even y/n has a moment of "should i ask what we are after this?" but they're just stretching okay. also i frequented this list of stretches and literally followed its order so in case you want to know what stretch they're doing LMAO THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD I'M SORRY 😭 i attempted to proofread this!!! but i'm sorry for any typos </3
THANK YOU TO @nectardaddy FOR HELPING ME DECIDE ON A COLOR AND MAKING ME VERY EXCITED TO WRITE THIS!! I HOPE YOU ALSO ENJOY IT <3
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kiyoomi likes his routines. he likes to be home by a certain time, eat dinner at a certain time, make sure the dishes are washed, and then he likes to retire to bed by a certain time. when he decided to find a roommate in order to split costs, he had been slightly worried that his routines would be ruined, but the universe had worked in his favor.
you had been his first option. he hadn’t even tried to send out messages to anyone else "just in case you declined his offer," he had just simply hoped you would say yes. you were quite frankly everything he could hope for as a roommate; he had known from the times you'd hung out throughout your years in high school that you liked things to be clean similar to him, and trying to find a time for you both to meet up throughout college meant he knew that your current schedules would line up nicely.
and luckily you had agreed enthusiastically, excited to move in with one of your closest friends. it eased your mind to know he would also be organized and keep to himself, which was not something you could say if you had moved in with someone like atsumu (would only become a reality if you had no other option) or osamu (you would consider it, after a lot of convincing and compromising).
and kiyoomi had been right. the decision to room had worked out perfectly in nearly every way. you always got home before him and would make your own dinner and take care of your dishes, leaving the place empty and spotless for him by the time he returned. sometimes, you even left notes for him, saying you had leftovers that he was free to eat if he wanted. 
and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you. you were good friends, after all, and one of the few people he found he could always tolerate even when a day had stressed him out. but you both had agreed that you liked having time in the kitchen to yourself rather than two of you trying to be in there at the same time. it wasn’t anything personal; you were both independent people who valued their alone time. and when he saw you around the apartment, he never failed to talk to you, even if it was just a small nod of acknowledgment. you always had a calm and collected kind of demeanor, which he reasoned he liked because it was similar to him, in contrast to the men who had too much energy for their own good that he was surrounded by every day.
your similar attitudes had also led to a lot of shared nights together. sometimes on the nights when you stayed a little bit later at work or school, he would come home and you’d still be eating at the counter, zoned out on your phone, not even noticing him until he placed his bag on the table.
“oh, sorry, omi. welcome back, i can leave–”
“no, you’re fine. stay there,” he’d cut you off.
he’d navigate around the kitchen, gathering what he needed while you continued eating your own meal. sometimes things were peacefully silent between you both as you resumed scrolling on your phone; you were just two roommates in their kitchen, illuminated by the warm light of a hanging lamp overhead. other times you asked him how his day was, and you would both chat while he made his own dinner, and if his day was bad, sometimes you invited him to watch a movie with you.
that was something that had confused him. he always was preparing himself to say no, that he was tired, or that he just wanted to be in bed in an hour, but instead he often found himself agreeing to the proposal. he realized after a bit of thought that it was because he liked being around you. he was willing to amend his routines to include you in them.
a friend had once warned him that he could never really know someone until he lived with them. and he had found that with you, he only liked you more once he started rooming with you. he liked how responsible and respectful you were with everything you did, aware of your surroundings and the space you shared with him. he found that he looked forward to seeing you every day, and when your door was shut, sometimes he felt conflicted. like he wanted to see you, but he didn't have the right to invade your space so instead, he was stuck alone in his own room, with you across the hall.
the only problem between you both (although he hated to call it that) was how late you stayed up. but even then, you tried to be careful about how loud you were, stepping quietly over the aged floorboards and using minimal lighting to navigate your way through the apartment. 
he wasn’t going to call you out for it. it was only a mild inconvenience, and he knew you couldn’t really help it. you had warned him before you moved in that sometimes you got restless at night, unable to sleep no matter how badly you wanted to.
he didn’t mind, he told you, and you had signed the lease. and truthfully, he didn't. but recently, your sleepless nights had become more frequent. for him, he rarely struggled with the problem. he could easily pass out on his bed at any time of the day. but sometimes he would wake up to your footsteps through the thin walls.
part of him worried for you, thinking to himself that this was what, the eighth day in a row he had woken up to you wandering around? while another part of him (a very cranky one) really wanted you to go to bed (for your sake and his own).
he stepped out of his room, blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust to the lighting of the living room lamp that was on. it wasn’t as bright as if you had turned on the overhead lights, but he’d just come from his pitch-black room.
you were curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest and biting the side of your thumb, still unable to get rid of how antsy you felt despite getting up from your bed. you looked up at him as he stepped into the room, the light of the screen reflecting against the side of your face, “oh god, omi. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you.”
the moment he sees the bags under your own eyes, any hint of irritation he felt about being woken up immediately fades. “it’s fine,” he says, coming to sit with you on the edge of the couch, “can you not sleep?”
you exhale a long breath through your nose at the question, “no. it’s been bad lately. i can’t fall asleep or i wake up a few hours later just feeling even more tired.”
“so you’re watching tv?” he says, raising his brows and looking at you. you purse your lips, pouting under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeve of your shirt.
you give him a small nod, “yeah. i mean, i’m really tired but i can’t sleep so i came out here to watch something.”
“well screens aren’t going to help you fall asleep,” he chides and you sigh.
“i knew you were going to say that. but what else am i supposed to do?” you complain.
“have you tried stretching?” he suggests.
you look at him, brows raised in confusion, “no, why would i do that?”
he rolls his eyes at your sass but it can’t be helped. he really only knows about the benefits of stretching because they’ve been ingrained into his mind from years of volleyball, “it helps relax your body, especially when you're stiff or sore so that you can go to bed. it’s what i do when i can’t sleep.”
“oh,” you reply, playing with a stray string coming out of the couch.
it’s silent for a moment. “are you not gonna do it? are we just gonna sit here in silence?”
you look up at him in embarrassment, “well, i don’t know what stretches to do! you don’t have to stay up with me, omi. you can go back to sleep. i don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.”
he sighs, laying back and sinking into the couch, “i’m not sleeping until you do.”
“well then tell me what i should do,” you say, extending your legs in front of you, placing them firmly onto the ground so you’re sitting up.
he stands and your eyes follow him curiously, unsure of where he’s going. eventually, he’s standing behind you at the back of the couch, and turns your head forward so that you’re looking directly at the wall in front of you. “what are you doing?” you ask, body going rigid.
“i’m just guiding you through some of these stretches, relax,” he answers and feels you calm down, letting him push your head gently towards one shoulder. his hand is on your opposite shoulder, keeping it straight while you feel a stretch in your neck.
“thanks,” you mumble as he repeats the movement for the other side of your neck. he gives you a small “mhm” in response, focused on making sure you’re feeling the stretch without hurting you.
he ends up leading you to the ground, modeling the stretches for you so that you can follow along. he guides you to lay on your side, with one arm extended out in front of you while the other is behind you, and you face each other as you both lay there, arms mimicking a T.
you giggle, unable to control yourself as you stare into his eyes. “what’s so funny?” he chuckles, smiling at the sound of your laughter.
“i just feel so stupid right now,” you answer, shifting slightly in your position. “but this is helping a bit, i think. i’m feeling a little better.”
he hums in acknowledgment of your words, his smile staying on his face before you switch to the other side.
“what’s next?” you ask, sitting up.
“do you know what the cat-cow is?” he asks, brushing off his arms from where they touched the ground. when you look at him, mouth agape, he gives you a defensive look back, unsure of what caused your reaction. “what?” he says, tilting his head slightly.
“omi, i’m not getting on my hands and knees,” you say, embarrassed that you even have to explain yourself, but you’d rather say it than humiliate yourself further on all fours.
“oh my god,” he rolls his eyes, putting a palm to his face, “you’re turning this into something it’s not. i’m not gonna look at you or anything. i’ll even turn away, okay? just do it, it’s good for you. i’m tired of hearing you complain about your back.”
you sigh dejectedly but comply, moving into the position. you can’t deny that you feel less stiff, but you also can’t help but overthink the entire situation. if anyone had told you a year ago that the man you had been crushing on for years was going to ask you to move in with him and months later he’d be on the floor stretching with you because he really wants you to be able to sleep, you would’ve laughed in their face.
but this was reality, and this felt like an intimate moment between you both. you were unsure of what to make of the situation; it had come as a big enough shock that he cared enough about your sleep. but you also shouldn’t have been that surprised. 'he’s just being a good friend,' you try to reason. he asked you to move in because no one in their right mind would want to live under the same roof as atsumu, and you both value a clean, organized house.
but where were you supposed to draw the line between friends and something more?
his careful attentiveness towards you had started to make you think that maybe he saw you as more of a friend as well. you never imagined that he would ever want you to stay in the kitchen with him while he was cooking when it had been a bad day, and you were even more surprised the first time he agreed to watch a movie with you. you considered yourselves good friends but you didn’t expect him to actually want to spend so much time with you on top of everything else he had going on. he never seemed to tire of seeing you around the house; instead, he always made sure to say hi or ask how your day had been.
you wanted to bring it up to him soon, you really did. the feeling was starting to eat away at you, and this night together wasn’t helping in the slightest.
after a few more stretches, you stood up, reaching your arms above you as you yawned. “think you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asks, following you up and dusting off his clothes.
the thought of going back to your stuffy room makes you drop your arms and the content look on your face fades away. you felt tired, but something about your room just felt so unwelcoming. you didn’t want to walk back in there, where the air would feel heavy, your mattress would be too stiff, your pillow too soft, and blanket too scratchy. there was always something that bothered you about your bed every night, and being alone with your thoughts again would prevent you from falling asleep. you’d be stuck tossing and turning in your bed on a bed that never felt clean or comfortable, you could already feel it. 
“what’s wrong?” he steps into your line of sight. you look up at him as a thought crosses your mind, making you immediately look back down at the ground, face turning red.
“um–” you start, and then immediately close your mouth. it was a stupid thought.
but what’s the worst he could do? say no? give you a disgusted look? kick you out into the cold after spending half an hour stretching with you? that last one was a little extreme, but maybe you’d say it and he’d laugh in your face. or gag (being dramatic, again). either way, whatever he said, if it wasn’t a yes, your life would be forever ruined.
“y/n,” he says, and you look back up at him, feeling like you’re about to collapse under the weight of his gaze. but your mouth opens, unable to keep it in.
“i just–” you have to stop to take in a deep breath, the words getting caught in your throat. he keeps looking at you the entire time, waiting to listen to what you have to say. “i don’t want to go back to my own bed,” you blurt, finally spitting it out. “it just doesn’t feel right. i don’t know how to explain it, but i know i won’t be able to sleep alone in my own bed. i’m sorry,” you add an apology on at the end, feeling embarrassed by your own confession.
when he doesn’t respond, you feel even worse. “nevermind, forget i said anything, i’m so sorry. thank you for helping me stretch, i’m going to go to bed now–” you spin on your heel, moving to run away as calmly as you can manage when he catches your wrist. you let out a small exclaim of surprise at the touch as he turns you back around.
“don’t apologize. and don’t lie to me. i want you to sleep,” he says, looking away as he runs a hand through his hair, preparing to say his next few words. “would it–” he shuts his mouth, feeling the anxiety settle in his chest, “would it help to sleep with me?”
neither of you are looking at each other. he’s staring at the wall and you’re looking at the floor, face hot and burning. “if you don’t mind, i think it would,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear and look back at you, letting out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in.
he’s still holding your wrist, too, he realizes, but he doesn’t let go. he runs a thumb along the side of your arm, grabbing your attention again. he’s looking you in the eyes, and he wants to tell you that he’s not uncomfortable with sleeping in the same bed as you. in fact, it’s quite the opposite, but he’s not sure what you’ll say back, so he settles for a neutral response, instead, “yeah. of course i’m fine with it.”
maybe in the morning, when he wakes up next to you, finds your limbs entangled with his under his sheets, and sees the sunlight peeking through the curtains and onto your skin, he’ll be able to choke out a three-word confession. but for now, he only leads you silently to his room, letting you slip under the covers first before he follows after, holding you close.
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meo-eiru · 19 days
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Breaking my lurker status (forgive my english I don't speak the devils tongue/j)
1.-I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO SO SO MUCH PLSSS-- you write so good and you draw even better it's so fun to see a notification pop up bc it also means I can see the silly people that also like your characters just as much as I do! I find it so cute to see all the different ways people live this characters I love it💥💥
2.- I beg of thee, to spare a crumb if One Eyed monster once again (when you have time bc remember to rest, eat and drink aguita💥), I've been OBSESSED with that one since I saw your first post about him, I just find him so endearing!
Like imagine scene! He is just so head over heels over by us but be doesn't have the courage to come talk to us, but oh! What's this? We are going out of our way to talk to him? HE MUST BE DREAMING! And we are just gushing over how cute he looks with his hair covering his face bc it makes him look so tiny and sweet that we can't help but reach to touch his face and in his daze we move just a little bit of his hair and he only notices that we have seen his full face when he can see more clearer (bc having so much hair in front of your only eye must never tough) and he just PANICS-- like just completely and utterly scared that he takes off running already crying and thinking that we will never wanna see him again and that we are disgusted by him, he only stops in an alley far away to catch his breath.
But in his break down he fails to notice how we ran after him, yelling for him to stop, following him to the alley and seeing in a front row seat how he is just completely broken saying between sobs how we'll hate him now.
But we never had hated him to begin with, we found him cute at the start so we got close to him, and when we saw that big doe-eye it was like staring at the most beautiful star in the sky, we would never hate him after all.
He doesn't hear our steps towards him, he only reacts when he feels our hand lightly touch the top of his hair, his head snapping up to see who it was, his heart almost jumping out of his chest when he sees it's us, both with joy and sorrow, I mean, we are probably there to mock him right? To tell him how ugly his one eye is and to tell him we never wanna see him again, after all,
¿If not for that why else would the one person he loves more than everything be there before him after seeing his one eye?
When he only manages to babble a weak - why? Here? You...Huh...? -
But we don't say anything, we just kneel down and hug him, holding him close, letting him cry in our shoulder, with one of our hand rubbing comforting circles on his back and the other petting his hair, waiting for his cries to stop.
When they do all we say is a simple couple of words, almost got loud enough but just for him to hear, leaving his once broken heart renewed and beating so fast he feels he might have a heart attack.
- You are even more beautiful than I could ever imagine... -
Something so little to anyone else, but something so big for him that he doesn't think his fragile heart could take anything else.
But he doesn't need anything else, he only needs this,
He only needs you
(I propose the name Jade for him, ¿why?, bc when I first saw him I related him with one of my favorite gemstones💥)
-Yummy-
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Oh my god this healed my soul, improved my grades, my eyes and skin are shining, world peace is happening, global warming ended and there’s no longer world hunger.
It just means so much to him, he’s so different from everyone else, he’s a monster. There’s no way you could love a creature like him who can’t even talk to you directly without exploding from nerves. He’s not handsome, he’s not charismatic, he’s not funny, he’s just a stalker who’s too pathetic to breath the same air as you.
Only thing bringing a bit of solace to him is the fantasies he has about you. Holding hands, going on dates, watching movies and cuddling, you saying you love him even if he’s a monster… Yes fantasies, such a thing can only happen in his fantasies.
So what’s happening right now? Is he dreaming? You’re so warm he can’t think straight. You think he’s beautiful? This can’t be real surely he misheard you. He can’t talk from the tears rolling down his eye. Please forgive him for getting your shoulder wet. He’s so just so, so happy right now. All he can do is hug you back and sob as he prays this is not just a dream.
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leviscolwill · 11 months
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something to give each other
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pairing: situationship!jude x reader
summary: jude and you are nothing complicated, until one night when you need him more than anything [wc:~800]
contents: angst & fluff at the same time bc why not + maybe a tiny bit suggestive ? idek if this classify as suggestive tbh
note: ikkk it's very short and that's a shit summary just read pls 😓 if u liked it, lmk by reblogging !!
now playing something to give each other by troye sivan...
you don't know what brought you two together. maybe it was the magnetic energy that he had to him, or maybe it was the way your personalities completed each other perfectly. either way, you found yourself wishing your paths never crossed a bit too often.
you and jude weren't anything serious, it was ‘less complicated’ this way according to him. you hung out with your shared friends and when everyone else was heading home, you would share a uber to his house or yours. it was simple really, you both got what you wanted by the end of the night.
and tonight, you needed him to take your mind off this awful day. you couldn't wait for him to make you forget about those stupid exams and these stupid arguments with your friends.
you didn't take the time to greet him like you usually did before kissing jude's lips, maybe bolder than he expected. his fingers gripped your jaw and forced you to slow down and separate from him.
“what's with you tonight?”, you could only roll your eyes at his comment, small talk being the last thing on your mind tonight. thankfully, your fingers raking the skin under his shirt was enough to shut him up. “i just need you, please jude.”
his eyes closed, it was hard to resist your pleas but your voice had a tone that was different than usual and he didn't want you to do something you might regret later, “no, you need to tell me what's going on, we're not doing anything if you don't.”
“fuck off, you never ask me about anything and suddenly you're interested in what's going on?” you couldn't understand the sudden switch in his behavior, it had always been just sex, why complicate it now? “i just need you to kiss me, take off my clothes, and make me feel good, is this too much to ask for?” you could feel your eyes well up in tears the more you spoke, already frustrated by your day, and not wanting to argue with him.
“it's fine if you don't want to have sex, i'll just text someone else.”, of course you didn't mean a word that came out of your mouth, if anything you would leave and cry yourself to sleep in your bed. jude's thumbs wiped tears that you didn't notice were falling before cupping your face in his hands. his eyes looked into yours in a way you weren't used to, your eyes fell on the floor from the intensity of his gaze, but two of his fingers were already tilting your face up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.
the silence between the two of you was becoming embarrassing, “i'm sorry about… all of this, i'll just go. sorry.” you couldn't even turn your back to him before his hand found your wrist, “you're not going anywhere. stay the night, please.”
you couldn't hide the frown on your face, confused by his words, “but you said you wouldn't…” the boy in front of you dramatically pretended to get offended, “this information might surprise you, but my life doesn't revolve around sex.” the giggles that escaped your mouth brought back a smile on both your lips.
jude's hand brought you to his room, although you knew the way all too well already, the warmth of his hand in yours brought you a sense of comfort that you didn't know you longed for. he handed you a shirt that was probably twice your size but would be perfect to sleep in. you embarrassingly looked around you before asking him to turn around, he complied but laughed his back now facing you.
“i've seen you naked so many times already, you shouldn't care about this love” heat was creeping up your face thinking about what he was hinting at, “s’ just different that's all…” your voice was barely audible, and you couldn't even tell if jude heard your words. you got under his sheets and told him he could turn around, his bed now significantly warmer with him next to you.
even with his eyes shut, jude could tell you were tense laying next to him ramrod straight. you felt his arm around you pull you closer, your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
you felt him shift a bit, and kiss the crown of your hair. the action made you heart skip a beat or two and relax more. you hoped you did a good job at pretending to be asleep because you didn't want to deal with the consequences of his ambiguous gestures in the morning. his fingers slowly stroking your hair were lulling you to sleep for real this time.
jude stopped once he heard your light snores and pressed on one more kiss on top of your head. he didn't let himself fall into the arms of morpheus though, already thinking about how he would fix whatever he started tonight.
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an-au-blog · 3 months
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more zosan reversed tropes bc uni wants me dead and this is my way of coping:
not fake dating, but where everyone is super convinced that they aren't ACTUALLY dating...
One day, Zoro and Sanji call everyone over and announce that they are getting engaged. It comes as a big shock to almost everyone because: 1. they say it too matter-of-factly, with disdain almost; 2. they never told anyone they were dating. Luffy, being Luffy is very happy for them and tells them they can't get married if he doesn't wed them as their captain. They respond that they never expected anything else. Robin and Franky congratulate them, Brook starts getting ready with the music, but Nami and Usopp? Nami and Usopp couldn't believe it. And they refused to let everyone else believe this lie. They decided that both Sanji and Zoro are lying, but why??
They make a makeshift investigation, but it turns out that Luffy and Robin genuinely believe them, Franky and Jinbei think it's none of their business and they can't bring themselves to break it to Chopper and Brook because they were too happy to attend a wedding. Soit was up to Nami and Usopp to prove to everyone else that there was no way they're dating.
At first they start looking at how they interact with each other. It was obvious they were faking it - they never started bickering and fighting and even when they just sat in silence Sanji would throw a ladle in Zoro's direction because he's snoring too loud. Or Zoro would make a biting comment about Sanji and it would start all over again.
But that was how they usually were, so it wouldn't prove much if some of their friends were so willing to accept their announcement at face value knowing they act like this. So Nami takes upon talking to Zoro in private, while Usopp talks to Sanji in private.
At first, Nami starts telling him how she would take money off his debt if he tells her the truth, but then he says the same thing that he said to the crew. That yes, the cook is a pain in the ass, but they love each other and want to get married. She threatens to tax him for lying, but he keeps insisting there's nothing else to say. She meets up with Usopp again, hoping that he did a better job than her, but he just said that Sanji caught onto him from the start saying it's for real and whatever he's scheming will not work.
They change tactics and switch partners, hoping that Nami will have more luck with Sanji, as he can't say no to her, and Usopp can try getting under Zoro's skin.
Usopp starts off by telling Zoro about how a great swordsman should have a nice and powerful partner, mentioning Hiyori, but then the unexpected happens and starts almost defending Sanji as his choice. "Sanji is stronger and nicer than her." "He's a worthy opponent and we already have the same priorities (Luffy)", "He's stubborn and driven, it's great." he says it all with a shrug and Usopp almost feels like he misheard him. "But you always fight?" Usopp says as a last resort. Zoro smiles widely "Yeah, it keeps me on my toes, my blood pumping. I love him so much, Usopp."
The sniper wasn't sure he wanted to prove they weren't a couple anymore. In fact he was starting to believe them. Nami came back with an equally defeated face. Nami tried using her charm, but Sanji kept going "Alas, my dearest Nami, Zoro and I are really getting married, unfortunately it is no joke. Unless you'd like me to take you out on a date!" And in desperation, Nami said "yes", but then Sanji flipped a switch. Saying there's no way, he was just joking and he'd never do that to Zoro. He's done self sabotaging and he really doesn't want to ruin things for them.
Robin overheats then and goes. "Oh, why didn't you ask me. I've seen them sneaking into toilets and private places like teenagers for months now."
And the theory had been debunked.
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realisticjupiter · 4 months
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hi! :D i hope u're doing well !! i was wondering if i could request chishiya x gn reader? where after the borderlands, chishiya faintly remembers the events while reader does not, so reader doesn't know who chishiya is but chishiya knows who they are. they're both admitted in the same hospital after the meteor, and chishiya has to fall in love with reader all over again, "coincidentally" meeting through a hallway and introducing himslef and slowly building a relationship and just AGHGJJAHAH this runs thru my mind a lot !!! ty for even reading this anyway hope u have a great day love u 😘😘😘 and also make sure to stay hydrated, healthy and happy :))
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ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: chishiya helping reader who is struggling with a snack, and at the same time remembering exactly how the two of them met.
ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x gn!reader
ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: fluff
ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: mentions of hospital medication , lmk if anything else !
ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 1k
A/N: I love this idea sm bc i also think of this a lot LOL. just the idea of chishiya's cookie moto when reader can't find a snack is just special to me -- also I apologize to literally everyone who has sent me a request I TRY I SWEAR IT'S NOT ON PURPOSE
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Your hand pounded on the clear glass that separated you and the snacks inside the vending machine. It had completely eaten your money just for the simple snack you've been craving all day not to fall to the bottom.
It obviously hasn't been a good day for you, but this was just the cherry on top.
Waking up in a hospital with hundreds of bruises and one big gash across your torso wasn't exactly your definition of a good time. You don't even remember how it happened.
In fact, you barely even remember what you did that day. You were walking to the mall? Maybe? It was clearly all a blur.
When he approached you, you almost thought you were hallucinating from all the medication the hospital decided to give you for the pain.
He was almost glowing in the hospital light, like he belonged there like some type of ghost whose soul is trapped inside the building.
"Those cookies aren't very good anyways." Were the words his naturally curved mouth spoke.
Something was off about him, you couldn't tell what it was though. Maybe it was his body language; how his eyes couldn't leave your face and studied your every move. Or maybe the way he spoke; so nonchalant but hard to tell where his social skills lied.
"I've been craving them since I woke up. But, obviously now--It doesn't really matter." You were already irritated, it was clear in your voice when you spoke. You weren't exactly in the mood to make friends.
His eyes looked down, which made yours follow along to the yellow bag that rested in his hand. He reached out to you, letting you see the cookies that sat inside.
"You can have one, if you want." He offered, his eyes watching your face once more.
You couldn't exactly read him, and it was clear that it was his persona. A man who wants to be known as an unsolved mystery. A closed box that couldn't be opened by anyone.
But in this Cheshire man's mind, he felt conflicted; confused. He swore he knew you from somewhere, but he wouldn't dare ask. He'd rather find out from his own mind. He always had a thing for puzzles, but this one felt more complicated than anything he's ever experienced.
You sighed, but with a shrug you dipped your hand into the bag to grab a single cookie. You brought it to your mouth with a crunch and your rating of the snack was written all over your face, and at the same time it almost felt familiar.
He had a good eye, or you guess taste for good snacks. You were almost surprised you've never tried it before, you've always seen it in other places.
"It's good, isn't it?" He raised a brow, a small grin showing on his face.
"Mhm, can I have another one?" You responded mid chew.
He couldn't hold back the soft chuckle as he handed the bag to you, watching as you dove straight in with no questions asked.
"I'm Chishiya, by the way." Chishiya finally introduced himself with his hands shoved into his pockets.
"Y/n." You replied, mouth full of cookies.
He nodded at the sound of your name. It tried to click in his mind, and when it did--it felt like he had just been given some stranger's memories.
He knew now, the borderlands and the person he was stuck with--merely because they were almost smarter than he was. For a second he was confused, concerned and almost convinced he was remembering an old dream.
It wouldn't be the first time he mistook a dream for reality, but he knew this time was different. In dreams there were no names or faces, but your face, the person standing in front of him wasn't just a dream. And nor were the memories he continued to remember.
"Do you... know me?" He asked, his tone unsure as if he was asking a foreign question.
You looked at him with a confused stare, looking him up and down and then studying his face--but none of it clicked.
"No, I don't think so." You shook your head, handing him the bag just for there to only be one left inside.
You gave an apologetic smile when he took it back, but somehow he didn't mind. Mostly because he had bigger things to think about.
Like how the person he told he loved doesn't remember him. It was almost funny when he thought about it that way, but it was honestly sad.
But when he thought about it another way, like how he may have a second chance with you. It felt different, like the god whom he never really believed in decided to grant him the good karma he wasn't so sure he deserved.
He couldn't care less though, the only thing he wanted from his experience in the borderlands was a second chance; and now he has it.
"Shouldn't you be resting? Your injuries seem worse than others." Chishiya tried to keep the conversation, although it almost sounded like he was trying to end it.
You shook your head, "Mm-mm. Doctor said to walk around, to stretch my legs." You explained, crossing your arms to shield yourself from the cold breeze of the hospital.
"Want to take a walk then? We can go outside, I know you aren't exactly fond of hospitals." He suggested, crushing the bag in his hand to stuff inside his pocket.
You stopped for a second, furrowing your brows and opening your mouth. "Uh--sure. But, how did you know that?" Your mouth shaped into a smile because it genuinely freaked you out a bit. He made it sound as if he knew you forever.
"Lucky guess." His response was quick as he turned and began walking. You hesitated at first, but soon followed after him as he passed a girl who pushed an older woman in a wheelchair and an older man following a bit behind them.
Maybe now was a good time to admit you felt like you had seen him before as well. But you couldn't think of where, so you convinced yourself you were crazy.
But what wasn't crazy, was thinking you had a chance with this Cheshire man. He made you comfortable in a way you couldn't understand, and weren't exactly sure if you wanted to.
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reposts and comments are appreciated <3
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inchidentally · 5 months
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Okay so I was thinking about why Oscar didn’t go and congratulate Lando right after his win but I think the answer is quite simple. It’s because he felt a little at odds with himself.
He lost out in that race because of the safety car the same one that secured Lando’s chance. (you can hear him audibly swear over the radio when it came out, which he NEVER does) He was pissed at the timing and then to top it all off gets his race ruined by Carlos of all people (again) and THEN when he’s desperately trying to force his way back thought he field he’s told to stop fighting because Lando is in the lead.
So whilst I’m sure he was happy for Lando, he was, at the same time, mourning his own loss. As he should! He’s a racing driver. he should be pissed at losing especially at no fault of his own.
So he gave Lando the space, let him take in his well deserved victory and once he’d calmed he congratulated Lando earnestly, without his feeling for his own race getting in the way!
And I think it’s says a lot about how understanding and kind Oscar is. He knew if he congratulated Lando as soon as they crossed the line he wouldn’t have meant it enough so he waited until he did mean it.
What do you think?
KES BABE you're gonna make me long post !!!
I've actually got to weigh in (pun intended) with a very real technicality that my cousin pointed out when I was looking for Oscar once we finally got to watch!
all of the drivers who congratulated Lando not only were father figures/big brother figures to him, they also finished in the top 10 and quite literally had finished their weigh in nice and quick - the exception being Daniel who did not have to go and see the stewards. quite literally Oscar had to wait toward the back of the queue to finish his parc ferme shit (did we ever even get eyes on him?) from there he had to go see the stewards. depending on who they spoke to first out of him, Carlos and KMag and how long they kept him in the meeting, from there he'd have had to find out where Lando was (celebrating? interviews? cool down room?) and then run around to wherever he was. and ofc if he was in cool down he wouldn't have been allowed in.
so technically maybe Lando would've still been easy to find in Oscar's gap between finishing in parc ferme and going to the stewards, he might also have been stood waiting for his interview or even doing it or he might have already headed to the cool down room etc etc etc.
but I am NOT going to expect Oscar to try and navigate all of that when he not only had his top 3 position ruined but now he also had to go and find out if he was going to be penalized as well !!
especially when he knows he's got ample time to congratulate Lando anyway and Oscar is not remotely the type to care if cameras are around to broadcast it or not. the other non-podium drivers were going to entirely different garages and who knows when they'd cross paths with Lando again.
so honestly I personally think this all came down to technicalities more than anything else and if Oscar had finished in the top 10 at least then he would've absolutely been right there to congratulate Lando both for the ease of it but also bc it wouldn't have been as awful a result even if did receive a penalty.
and equally if he had the time to think of it, he would've assumed Carlos was already headed up there to congratulate Lando (and possibly could have seen him) and it was not !! the time for Oscar and Carlos to cross paths at that moment !!
BUT AS YOU SAID !! I think if there was time for him to get past the frustration and anger at what had happened to his own race and those mitigating factors weren't as much of an issue as I'm guessing they were, we know damn well that he'd be thinking what you said <3<3 bc even when things are going horrendously for him, Oscar never loses his head. and if he at all thought he'd bring his own negativity to the biggest moment in Lando's career so far then no WAY would he have risked it.
and bottom line is that one hug has ended up paling in comparison with how much Oscar was there for Lando in Oscar accepting 50% of the upgrades, obeying team orders for Lando rather than trying to get back in the points, showing up for Lando's celebrations twice in a major way, then going out to celebrate him all night long and posting about his win on social media for days afterward <3 like sure it would've had wider publicity if there'd been a hug right after - but Lando's beaming smile and thanking Oscar shows that he doesn't rate publicity as being more significant than everything else Oscar did for him that weekend ;__;
and what's actually really killed me is that surely surely there had to be an element of it for Lando where he remembered last year telling the press how it stung and hurt that Oscar had achieved any kind of win before him. that Oscar was never a showboat about it and always specified that it was a sprint win and not a real race win. that Lando was always the one to bring it up and give Oscar his dues but that Oscar never brought it up again afterward himself. and the mounting anxiety for Lando of what if Oscar got that race win before him? and how much that anxiety must have been at it's peak watching Oscar leading in Miami?? literally I think it would've been too much to humanly expect Lando to cope at all well. I think the absolute least amount of grace we would have given him would be to not go and immediately celebrate it with Oscar but honestly? if he'd decided to just do his post race interviews and slip away quietly until the video with Andrea then none of us would have judged him for it AT ALL. it would have been an unavoidably bittersweet day and knowing what the press and haters would have done to him would have paled in comparison to Lando having to live with knowing that Oscar got there first and so much quicker. and genuinely I think it would have taken a certain amount of shine off of it for Oscar as well and he would not have even slightly expected Lando to put himself through any more of it than strictly necessary for appearances.
(seriously I think we all breathed a sigh of relief over this win as much as we were elated about it !! we will never have to exist in a timeline where Oscar got his race win before Lando)
so not only will Lando have not remotely expected Oscar to show up in parc ferme for a hug, he has clearly counted every moment of Oscar celebrating his win as golden and beyond the call of teammate duty. and that not only did he make sure that posterity recorded Oscar's achievements earlier in that race, he made sure that he thanked him by setting the example of what could be done on just half the upgrades.
we all expected each of the hugs Lando got right after that race. each of those men has helped to raise Lando and has watched him since he was small and awkward and painfully shy and suffering heart-wrenching race results. they needed to hold their boy in his moment of purest happiness.
but none of us could have reasonably assumed how Oscar - only just out of his rookie season and Lando's teammate of just one season and a bit - would react to such a devastating race for himself while also on the biggest day of his teammate's career to date.
one hug would honestly have been a perfectly fine bare minimum and plenty of other drivers would have called that good and begged off.
equally tho one measly hug shouldn't make anyone underestimate how extraordinarily above and beyond and then some Oscar has been for Lando for the past week. that not only has he celebrated it and celebrated Lando, he's done so in proportion to people older than him who have known Lando much longer than him and who are not direct rivals to Lando.
like genuinely, the general F1 fans keep saying what a gentlemen and exemplary one-of-a-kind teammate Oscar has been through all of this and they're absolutely right. we not only got to rejoice in Lando's win, we also get to rejoice that he has a teammate who has proven his worth and made the McLaren driver partnership secure for the years they have to come <3<3
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kentopedia · 6 months
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Can you drop some long series recs (any fandom!)?! I haven't had any come across my dash >.< Would love to read some!
omg of course!! I HAVE SO SO MANY RECS! a lot of the ones i've seen recently are ongoing, but i hope you give them a go & keep watching for updates <3 i have read quite a variety, so hopefully there's something for you tehe. some of them i haven't read yet, but have been on my list bc i enjoy their other works :) so i recommend them to since i know the writers are amazing!!
to have and to hold by @fedyenkas (chuuya, ongoing) - i just started this one today & it's so so amazing so far !! chuuyas characterization in it is sooo yummy. i haven't read a hybrid series before, so it's super unique to see how that fits into the bsd universe.
noble blood by @forest-hashira (satoru & suguru, ongoing) - i haven't read this one yet, but both of fallon's entries for my collab were incredible, so i can only imagine this is too! plus, the premise is SO insane, it's about dragon riders, and there's an entire sheet with all lore that they've created !! i can see how much love and care was put into this one, so i can't wait to check it out !!
oh, baby! by @tetsuskei (kuroo, ongoing) - i have yet to read the first part (everyone throw tomatoes at me) but risu posted some parts on her old blog & i read it there! it's so so sweet!! i looove all her writing, and dad!kuroo is just the cutest thing EVER.
waterloo by @fyorina (dazai, ongoing) - i haven't read this one yet either but i am SO SO incredibly excited to get to it. this one is going to be long, so it might be what you're looking for !! the first two parts are out already, and there's a posting schedule if you want to know when they're coming out :)
bulletproof love by @staryukis (gojo, ongoing) - i've really enjoyed this one so far and logan's writing is so captivating <3 it feels just like missing scenes from in between the canon jjk storyline. logan also has a mini zombie apocalypse series i've been excited to read after reading the other series !! it's dying (for your love).
regrets by @/kingkonoha (levi, complete) is so good !! i still need to finish it, but the concept is super cool & the reader is the antagonist so it's a really interesting spin on levi's actions in the canon universe.
tidal temptations by @fyodorloveclub (fyodor, ongoing) - i have also yet to read this one (cries myself to sleep my tbr is never ending), but everything flora writes is incredible, so i have no doubt this one is too. it's a merman fyodor fic, which is such a cool concept i'm so excited to see where it goes !!!
hell within reach by @/ddarker-dreams (chrollo, complete) - omg. ok i read this one like 2 years ago LOL, but it's finished and its about 80k long, and it's so good <3 i used to be an insane chrollo girlie & this is one of my favorite fics about him.
lover's delight by @lovelyluc (diluc, ongoing) - i don't even play genshin or know anything about it HSHFSDFH but this one is so sweet <3 you can really see how much awea loves diluc in this series, which is my favorite thing about reading fics, and it has so many of my favorite tropes !!
geheinisse by @honeybleed (jean & reiner, ongoing) - only the first part of this is out but it's SO INCREDIBLE. there's so much drama already, and nara does such a great job of setting the scene while getting you hooked immediately. nara also has a two part reiner fic (the first part is decades) that's completed and over 10k words that i'll never forget! her characterization of reiner is so yummy.
if it wasn't for him (would you have me) by @gojoath (yuuta, ongoing) - cella's the ceo of yandere yuuta, so if you're into him, i can't think of anyone else to recommend !!! cella wrote another yuuta series that i think is completed, so there are lots of amazing things to read on her blog <3
@osaemu has a streamer!gojo series that are all in the same universe & connect! they're so funny & everything sabs writes is amazing, so i encourage you to check out her work if you haven't
the lakehouse by @tetzoro (kuroo, ongoing) - rahhh i'm the worst bc i still haven't read this but aims is one of my favorite writers on here, so trust me it's amazing. this was written for october, so if you're missing autumn rn def read this one! aims also has another kuroo series coming soon <3
i know i left some people out, so if you're ever in need of any other recs, pls lmk tehe. and if you're a mootie of mine but have a series i didn't include, send it my way <3 but hopefully all these amazing ones will get you started!
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cinematicnomad · 4 months
Text
cinematicnomad's steddie fic recs
i've been reading a lot of stranger things steddie fics over the past 2 months so i've decided it's time for me to make one of my requisite fic reclists, both for myself, and for anyone else interested. here's my usual reminder that i prefer lengthy fics, and that i am also a sucker for canon divergent fics (which basically all of these are bc eddie is alive post s4 obviously unless it's a time loop fic—if i tag a fic as "canon divergent eddie lives", assume this means the fic is compliant through the end of s4 except for eddie's death) and happy endings. all these fics are complete, though it's possible that if the fic is part of a series the series may not be complete. i will try to always add appropriate tags!
T = teen M = mature Ex = explicit NR = not rated
bracing for impact by writersagainstwritersblock (1/1 | 9k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; wayne POV; steve has bad parents; outsider POV
wayne watches as eddie falls hopelessly in love, with of all people, goddamn steve harrington.
it's not a big deal by aidaronan (1/1 | 11k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; mutual pining; angst w/ a happy ending
eddie survives, but his entire life is locked away in the upside down forever (his books, his dnd stuff, his guitar.) everything that wasn't on eddie when steve carried him into the ER, gone. so naturally steve starts giving him things. handing eddie back those little outward markers of who he is.
you oughta know by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (1/1 | 12k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; future fic; angst w/ a happy ending
days stretch out, long and slow. steve tries to ignore the only thing he’s sure of: eddie ran. he ran from him, ran from all of them. or: steve's having a rough couple of years, thanks for asking. compliant fic: i'm brave, but i'm chicken shit (1/1 | 13k+ | M) eddie POV; eddie centric; 1990s; recreational drug use
introduced me to my mind by alchemystique (2/2 | 16k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; mutual pining; getting together; happy ending
"eddie," wayne says, and eddie fights the urge to scream, or laugh, or cry. "i'm not running," eddie tells him, even though that is a fucking lie. "you should call him more," wayne says, and eddie rubs the meat of his palm into his eyeballs until he sees stars. doesn’t think about what 'call him more' means in context—do they talk about him? series: sweet leaf (4/4 | 16k+ | T) outsider POVs; rockstar!eddie; period typical homophobia
steve harrington's guide to making it work by eggbertsheggbert (8/8 | 23k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; steve is kicked out; angst w/ a happy ending
steve harrington has never been good at asking for help. especially not since he started being seen as the protector of the group. so, when his parents kick him out after discovering his sexuality, he figures he can get extra shifts, save up, and get a place before anyone realizes anything is wrong. join steve as he takes on the weight of the world. he's got it figured out, he's definitely NOT struggling, and—above all else—he can make this work.
the power of love by lacerta26 (8/8 | 27k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POVs; series; post-canon; coming out
jim gets mostly to the end of the house and then someone speaks. "i came out here for a smoke," eddie, his voice low, hushed. "yeah, but this is much more fun," steve now, almost laughing but not quite. * jim had only stepped out for a cigarette when he learns something new about steve and eddie and if this was one of the boys bringing home a girl, he’d have the exact stern words to make sure they were being a gentleman but his usual shovel talk isn't quite going to cut it because he has to let them know it's fine, more than fine, for them to be who they are, here. 
hands where i can see them by SolarMorrigan / @solarmorrigan (12/12 | 29k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; established relationship; emotional hurt/comfort
eddie thinks that he and steve have a good thing going; being friends with benefits is honestly a pretty sweet deal. steve is a great friend, the sex is great, everything is great. except for the fact that steve hadn't realized they were only friends with benefits. except for the fact that steve thought they were in a relationship. except for the fact that eddie doesn't realize how much he'd valued that relationship until it's gone (and he's trying his damnedest to get it back).
it's alright if you love me by alivingfire (7/7 | 31k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POV; character study; 5+1; steve-centric; hurt/comfort
"oh, haven't you heard? steve harrington doesn't cry." in which steve harrington breaks up, breaks a few hearts (including his own), breaks free, and finally gets to break down. or: 5 times steve didn't cry, and 1 time he did.
off the beaten path by pukner (6/6 | 34k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; alternating POV; queer awakenings; cliffhanger ending (must read sequels)*
"i'm saying this," says steve, loudly, cutting him off, "because someone i love is, uh, gay. and i love them, but like, platonically. and also me calling you a queer might've been a little hypocritical, in retrospect." there is a long, baffled pause. "what," says jonathan, "steve, are you—are you coming out to me?" steve frowns, "oh, yeah, i guess i am. cool." or, post season 3, steve manages to figure out that he's bisexual, despite his best efforts to repress it, comes out to robin and jonathan byers of all people, and figures himself out. also, there's a cute guy who might be actually insane running the kids' dnd club and he's got his eye on him. and his bandana. too bad eddie munson hasn't had a similar revelation. he's still under the impression that he's a straight man obsessing over steve harrington for normal, extremely heterosexual reasons. OR: steve figures out he's bi before eddie figures out that he's gay. eddie still manages to fall first. series: *off-script (2/2 | 67k+ | Ex) eddie POV; internalized homophobia; mutual pining
a tattoo is worth a thousand words by writersagainstwritersblock (18/18 | 40k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; eddie POV; babysitter steve harrington; getting together
"ambidextrous, princess, it’s what makes me so good with my hands." eddie wiggled his fingers. "you mean for guitar?" steve asked, completely missing the innuendo, and also nearly knocking eddie flat at the thought that steve harrington knew he played guitar. "you stalking me or something?" eddie asked. steve frowned. "uh, no, but your band played in the middle school talent show, it's pretty hard to forget a thirteen year old screaming death metal before his voice dropped." eddie almost laughed at that. almost. "you saying i'm unforgettable, princess?" "if that’s how you want to take it, munson." eddie realized this was turning towards something far more dangerous than taunting a boy known for getting into fights, like flirting with a very, very straight boy known for getting into fights. OR after the events of season three steve shows up on eddie's doorstep asking for a tattoo... and then keeps showing up much to the dismay of eddie's traitorous heart. sequel: visible ink (12/12 | 57k+ | M) outsider POVs; firefighter!steve; tattoo artist!eddie; found family
the one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting. by badpancake (12/12 | 41k+ | T) canon compliant; time loop; steve POV; temporary character death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending
it’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. he’s dove into the water hundreds of times. screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard master of puppets in the distance and held back tears. felt max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. there are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: el doesn’t arrive in time. eddie dies. max is put in a coma. steve fails. they lose. "steve, how many loops have you been through?" his head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and eddie has approached him like a spooked animal. "i lost count.” AKA: the one where steve harrington is stuck in a time loop, and eddie munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck volume 2, these bitches are in love.
steve the reluctant by rachtay13 (7/7 | 46k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; oblivious steve; steve plays dnd
robin raised her brows.  "you know what, harrington?" she nodded her head. "yeah, you know what? i dare you to make a friend. i dare you." read for steve in denial, excessive d&d gameplay, robin as a mermaid, and eddie's glinting rings. as one reader said "the most frustratingly dense version of steve i have ever read and i am HERE for it."
you're so fucked up and i love it by genericfanatic (18/18 | 54k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; accidental relationship; hurt/comfort
eddie munson hated steve harrington. he'd apparently saved his life, dragged him out of hell and got him to a hospital while nancy rushed behind him working on alibis and half truths to prove he couldn’t have murdered chrissy. and here he was, doomed to live for the foreseeable future, in debt forever to steve fucking harrington. but eddie really hated how normal steve fucking was.
where do we go from here? (quietly fading away) by allandmore (9/9 | 60k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; non-graphic violence
"what's scarier than saving the world? figuring out what to do afterwards. i get it," eddie turns on his side, one shoulder on the wall, and grips the front of steve's shirt. His face is so close steve can feel the warmth of his breath. "but we've got time now. right, steve? we bought us all time. time to figure all our shit out. isn’t that what matters?" OR steve harrington struggles to find purpose after the upside down. (but maybe purpose doesn't have to be big. maybe it's helping dustin navigate sophomore year. maybe it's reminding robin to send in college admission letters. maybe it's eddie munson. maybe).
star of the masquerade by glorious_spoon (6/6 | 64k+ | M) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending
steve jerks awake, sitting up so quickly that robin almost topples over and staring wildly around the room. when his gaze lands on eddie, he blanches visibly. "oh, shit," he mutters. "come on, no. come on. not again." "harrington?" eddie asks slowly. he does not love the way that steve is staring at him right now. he really doesn’t. steve looks like he’s staring at a ghost, a bloodied monster, like eddie is something that should not exist in the light of day. "you good, dude?"
one size fits all by entanglednow (10/10 | 65k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; fake/pretend relationship; misunderstandings; slow burn
steve just wanted to do something nice for a friend, he doesn't mean to get eddie's ring stuck on his finger, and it's definitely not his fault that everyone he knows is jumping to conclusions.
renegades (leave a light on) by queerofthedagger (13/13 | 66k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; eddie POV; road trip; slow burn; strangers to lovers
eddie doesn't expect to get into trouble for his recent drug business, although he probably should have. even less does he expect steve harrington of all people to save his sorry ass with a nail bat that looks awfully at home in his hands. least of all, though, does he expect harrington to insist on skipping town for a while to avoid the fallout. the winter holidays of '84 seem intent on proving him wrong on all fronts. thrown into a spontaneous road trip-slash-cut-and-run to san francisco—just until things back home blow over, munson—eddie has all the time in the world to confront such questions as: why would harrington care to help him? why does he wake up from nightmares more often than not? and, maybe most importantly, why is the former king so ready to leave hawkins behind on a whim? or: idiot boys make impulsive idiot decisions, and along the way—reluctantly but inevitably—they fall in love. a story of endless winter streets, finding family, and leaving home to find a new one.
falling without caution (people watching) by super_skam310 (10/10 | 66k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; slow burn; eventual happy ending
steve harrington is a man that demands your attention; whether your give it willingly or not is inconsequential. eddie's camp tended to be in the latter category. OR eddie's borderline obsessive watching of steve spanning from steve's freshman year to season 4, culminating in the unfortunate realization that the king had been dethroned the moment nail bat hit monster flesh and that maybe steve harrington was lovable all along.
in the margins by foxy_mulder (4/4 | 70k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; suicidal thoughts; hurt/comfort
steve is having a hard time adjusting to the new normal, after everything that went down. he doesn't want to bother his friends with his problems, though, when they've got so much weight on their shoulders already. steve stumbles on an alternate version of hawkins, where none of it ever happened. everyone’s alive, his headaches are gone, his friends actually want to hang out with him, and he’s…happy. (the party has to fight another monster. but this one doesn't prey on people's fears. it preys on their deepest desires.)
skull rock era by chattrekisses (11/11 | 71k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; steve POV; slow burn; internalized homophobia; fix-it
steve harrington never planned for eddie munson. steve was supposed to marry his high school sweetheart, have 2.5 children, and take over the family business. he was supposed to live a blissful life on a nondescript cul-de-sac, complete with a white picket fence and a closet full of tasteful polo shirts. he was supposed to make a graceful transition between being the golden boy and being the american dream. mediocrity was what destiny had designed for steve. reality had other plans. (or, steve and eddie, against all odds, fall in love.)
roll for seduction by spikeisthebigbad (37/37 | 74k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; steve plays dnd; fix-it
when steve reluctantly agreed to play dungeons and dragons with the hellfire club he expected to hate every second. he did not expect to spend his friday nights flirting with eddie munson. what if eddie and steve were dating during season 4? starts after season 3, and eventually ventures into season 4. not canon compliant.
in over my head by staymagical (16/16 | 75k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; temporary amnesia
one moment, steve is entering his room, ready for bed, and the next he's in forest hills staring at a very confused very concerned eddie and the run-down remains of the old munson trailer. three hours later. thus begins a secret shared between friends, steve leaning on eddie as they try and understand and navigate this new terrifying post-concussion symptom of steve's. with vecna dead and the gates closed, it can only be steve's own scrambled brain giving up on reality. it's a race against the unknown, trying to find answers and search for solutions before it happens again and steve isn't sure how long he can keep pretending he is alright when he is anything but.
leave the light on sometimes all night by anniebibananie (7/7 | 78k+ | M) au—no upside down; steve POV; hurt/comfort; slow burn; eventual smut
june 1986 steve is lonely. he’s always been lonely, honestly. an empty house, absent parents, friends that didn’t really know him. frankly, he probably doesn’t really know himself, either. it used to be easier to ignore—between sports and parties and searching for the next girl to hang around with. then nancy wheeler told him he was bullshit. in the wreckage of the storm, he realized she probably hadn’t been that off base to call his life bullshit. [life in hawkins, indiana is boring, ordinary, no supernatural entities. steve still changes. luckily, he still makes some new friends, too. certain people are simply meant to be in the same story.]
the lathe by palmviolet (13/13 | 82k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; fix-it; angst w/ a happy ending; implied self-harm
"this time, do it right. this time eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. this time, steve will do it right." — or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable. sequel: disaster / lucky (1/1 | 7k+ | M) coda; eddie POV; implied/referenced self-harm; trauma recovery
it's got what it takes by rose235b (20/20 | 83k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; friends to lovers; slow burn
“i can walk you to your car if you need to go though.” eddie’s hand stopped moving. robin’s eyes snapped towards steve as if it wasn’t a nice thing to offer. “i’ll just maybe grab the vest so i can leave it for tomorrow.” he was undeterred though. if he could help eddie munson after the worst period of his life by literally just walking, steve would walk across the entire state of indiana. eddie looked back at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to search for something on steve’s face. “okay.” it came out softer than steve was used to eddie being. steve's on his never ending quest to make up for past mistakes. eddie's post-vecna mess of a life seems like the perfect place to start. - or, two idiots fall in love very slowly to the tune of 80s music.
(something happens and i'm) head over heels by gibbouslunation (11/11 | 94k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; angst w/ a happy ending
eddie made a strangled disbelieving noise, expression flickering. "you are not apologizing to me right now, for like, feeling a normal way about stuff. i can’t believe you." steve pushed a shaking hand through his hair. his heart rate no longer in his ears meant he felt he could at least think a little more clearly. "maybe it was the heat. doesn’t always have to be something messed up, right?" eddie gave him a placating nod. "sure, heat exhaustion is a helluva thing." it had been happening a lot recently. the…forgetting. zonking out. whatever. he was pretty sure he was just extra exhausted, it had been a few weeks since everything but it might have just been the adrenaline or something finally wearing off. sometimes it was like he just forgot someone was speaking, or couldn’t remember for a moment what they’d been talking about. like blinking out of a fog maybe. it does not get better, in fact, it actually continues to get worse.
water closet by stillmadaboutpetra (7/7 | 103k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; found family; slow burn; character study
steve's heard that a lot of life changing conversations usually happen in the kitchen or on the porch, but in his experience, it's the bathroom. a series of bathroom conversations (plus a whole lot of everything else) that slowly change steve, and his little world, in the wake of surviving vecna.
burned on the pyre by oklahoma (13/13 | 105k+ | Ex) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending
"i’m gonna save your life, eddie munson." - caught in a time loop created by eleven where he is forced to relive the same day over and over, steve has to come up with a plan to kill vecna entirely while also making sure eddie and max don’t lose their lives in the process.
the beat has just begun by forgetthemoon (12/12 | 106k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; period-typical homophobia; fix it; slow burn
vecna dies. so does eddie. the world doesn't split open. in the aftermath, steve goes home to an empty house. well. almost empty. steve sighs, hanging his head. one more thing. then he can go to bed. the dirty towel can wait until later. he tosses it towards the bathtub without looking and turns to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. when he looks in the mirror, eddie's staring back at him.
lonely is the night by intrajanelle (23/23 | 109k+ | T) canon divergent post s2; canon rewrite; eddie POV; hurt steve; angst w/ a happy ending
harrington had fallen, splayed in front of his preppy little beemer, like the jock equivalent of a fallen fucking angel. eddie, not having thought this through, watched harrington’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and said, "well, crap." or: post-season 2, eddie and steve get to know one another.
i can give you a heartbeat by soupbitchin (14/14 | 113k+ | T) canon compliant; eddie POV; ghost!eddie; happy ending; fix-it
being dead isn’t like eddie thought it would be. for starters, he’s a lot more alive than he expected. or, the ghost of eddie munson’s still hanging around, and he’d really appreciate if someone could notice him, thanks.
the end is here (and we do it a hundred times over) by placebythering (13/13 | 125k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending
steve jolts awake, staring up into the dull beige of the camper’s ceiling. there’s a distinct brown stain, likely from a leak. the cushion of the back seat is hard against his back, and if he strains he could hear yelling and laughing from the outside. he wonders if he’s finally lost his fucking mind. —or, steve relives the day of the end over and over again.
caught in the middle, helpless again by margosfairyeye (14/14 | 131k+ | Ex) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; angst w/ a happy ending; canon-typical violence
fuck, eddie has been here before. the deja vu was bad enough but this is like, double, this is like deja deja vu or deja vu vu or something, this is unprecedented shit here. and eddie knows what comes next, knows like the roiling ache in his stomach that they’re going to go in, go though the portal and into the upside fucking down and didn’t they already do this? -- -- eddie loops through the time from lover's lake to his death, over and over again.
blood, love, and rhetoric by sourpastels / @lesbiansidney (18/18 | 143k+ | M) canon compliant; alternating POV; eddie lives; canon typical violence; accidental roommates
eddie believes three core things about the art of performance. 1. all the world's a stage. 2. performance is both a weapon and a shield, he wields it as both. and 3. you can’t act death. to quote stoppard: “it’s not gasps and blood and falling about—that isn’t what makes it death. it’s just a man failing to reappear, that’s all…” and eddie had gasped and bled and fell about, and was foolish enough in that moment to believe that was death. but he forgot a crucial step: he reappeared. or: steve is taking it day by day, flitting between the high school and the hospital and hopper’s cabin, locking any thoughts of eddie munson away at the back of his mind. meanwhile, eddie is just trying to get out of the upside down, with nothing but a nail-shield and the world's worst company.
sleight of hand by smithereen (19/19 | 143k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; alternating POV; internalized homophobia; slow burn
steve needs a weed dealer. he gets a bit more than that. (this is an AU set a couple months after the snow ball in season 2.)
take the money and run by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (22/22 |143k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; road trip; getting together; future fic
"rules. like, there’ll be no eating in my car. you're not driving my car. no heavy metal," steve keeps listing, "you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m—" "i'll try to control myself," eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. fucking girls in steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him. steve continues, completely ignoring eddie, "you’ll wipe your feet. you're not dragging dirt all over my car. no hitchhikers. no cutesy road games. no smoking in the car. i'm not paying for all the gas." "ass, gas or grass, got it," eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. he is not taking this seriously. or: road trip!
if your heart surrenders by asbealthgn (39/39 | 163k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; slow burn; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending
“that one’s on the house, okay?” eddie says, and steve opens his eyes to look back down at him. on his face is the slightest hint of concern, and something else steve can’t place. he’s still holding his hand. "thank you," steve says. he’s not sure exactly which thing he’s thanking eddie for, the weed or the hand in his or the lack of judgment at his fucked up head. he just knows that he’s grateful. eddie gives him a smile, a gentle curve of those pretty lips. "anytime, harrington."
tuesday's gone with the wind by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (9/9 | 184k+ | Ex) alternate universe – no upside down; eddie POV; rock band; drug use; plane crash
corroded coffin's leased plane went down on june 13th, 1995 in the woods of louisiana. ten people on board died. eddie munson survived. before he survived, he really lived. companion series: wildflowers...and all the rest (15/15 | 151k+ | Ex) gareth POV; original female character; one shots; growing old; slice of life
gossip by jcmadgirl (11/11 | 213k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; pre-canon; sexual assault; angst w/ a happy ending
steve's whole life story, told through multiple snapshots of the events that made him into the person that he is today. or, a rewriting of stranger things from steve's POV.
i never did believe in miracles (but i've a feeling it's time to try) by cuoredimuschio (26/26 | 215k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; slow burn; mutual pining; getting together
eddie is beginning to think that, somewhere in the helter-skelter of surviving the upside down, being swarmed by possibly rabid but definitely rancid demobats, and charbroiling vecna’s slimy ass, he accidentally tripped through the wrong gate and landed in an alternate dimension. well, a different alternate dimension than the one he was already in. because steve harrington is flirting with him.
vignettes of lost connections by hardlyhalcyon (halcyonfrost) (50/50 | 229k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending
steve harrington and eddie munson had met long before dustin henderson dragged steve down to reefer rick's cabin. hawkins wasn't a huge town, and there was only the one high school, but the two were never friends. didn't even like each other. in all their darkest moments however, they somehow found company together. or the one where steve has depression, eddie becomes his safe space, and when eddie encounters battles he can't fight, steve reminds eddie of his own strength. a pre-/peri-/post-s4 fic with steddie before s4 events, continuing through and after.
as the world falls down by daeneryske (36/36 | 245k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending
after saving eddie from the upside down, steve hides him at his house while the party concocts a plot to clear eddie's name. what steve doesn't expect is how much he likes hanging out with eddie as they get to know each other. under the looming shadow of the mind flayer threatening to destroy hawkins, steve and eddie realize they're each grappling with their own darkness, from steve's father's impossible expectations to eddie's feelings of worthlessness. their friendship develops into something more even as the party prepares to fight Vecna and his monsters one last time. steve must decide if he's ready to shrug off the rigid roles assigned to him and become his own person. eddie must learn to embrace what steve has been trying to show him every day since nearly dying: that he's worth saving.
nothing else matters by bigskyandthecoldgun (31/31 | 279k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical attitudes; everybody lives
"you ask a lot of questions about me," steve tells him. "because you're interesting," munson says, quiet and honest. "you're a lot different than what i've heard." steve hums, eyes closed. "yeah," he says, eyes fluttering open when munson takes the joint from him again, "you are, too." or: steve ditches the prom to get high.
since you've gone (i've been lost without a trace) by steddieeddie (7/7 | 300k+ | M) canon divergent s4; multiple POV; comatose steve; grief; angst w/ a happy ending
may 31st 1986, two weeks until graduation. robin, eddie, and nancy are all set to walk across the stage, eddie being given a free pass after the whole ‘almost framed for murder’ thing. the three have been trying to be excited about their graduation, but it feels almost mundane to be excited when steve wouldn’t be there. they would be sat out on a football field in the blistering heat while waiting for their names to be called, with dustin and max in the crowd, cheering them on in steve's place. there would be fake smiles plastered to all their faces, no matter how realistic they tried to make them. none of them have genuinely smiled since steve got vecna'd. sixty-five days. steve had been in a coma for sixty-five days. the doctors keep telling the party that it doesn't look good, that steve's injures had been severe, and that they didn't know if, when, he would wake up. but they refused to lose hope. he'll wake up. it's just a matter of time. OR five times steve harrington didn't wake up, and one time he did.
the most dangerous thing (is to love you) by brokebeatle (21/21 | 304k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; shared trauma; slow burn; period typical homophobia  
"i know you care about what those little twerps think of you, and i can assure you they think way too highly of you," eddie says with a wink, and steve gives a half-hearted smirk for just a moment. "but look…i know i can’t ask you to stop worrying about those kids, so how about this? you worry about them, and you let me—actually let me—worry about you." steve pushes his hair back, and yet again, gravity instantly pulls it back down, since he’s looking at his feet. "…i don’t need anyone to worry about me." "too fucking bad. someone’s gotta do it, and it’s gonna be me." "why?" steve replies with a raspy laugh, shaking his head slowly. "why? why." eddie crosses his arms tightly across his chest, knocking his foot into steve’s again with a bit more strength. "because we’re friends, dipshit." —in which eddie's got a reason he's been planning on leaving hawkins since long before the world almost ended. the only thing keeping him in town at this point? his promise to be friends with steve harrington. and eddie doesn't break promises.
the man that i could be by ohstars (26/26 | 325k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending
"steve harrington isn't straight. it's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at starcourt with robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of steve. since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys." -- after coming to terms that he may be queer, steve harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only eddie munson. just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for eddie in their own little bubble, steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. and when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his eddie is the same eddie playing D&D with the kids. the same eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. how will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team? series: the men we've become (4/4 | 45k+ | M) future fics; alternating POVs; domestic living
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callmelyc · 2 months
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Back thinking about Oracle Lance but this time it's him foreseeing Keiths betrayal to him and instead of trying to stop it he aids him in secret bc lance trust Keith more than anyone else and if his betrayal is lurking it must be for a reason (it is)
Lance is an oracle for the empire, his job is simple and to the point: have visions and make sure they're as detailed as possible.
He is to be alone, to be nothing but a tool in hopes he can turn the future to their favor. That all changes when Keith comes into the picture.
Keith is Lances new guard, his servicer if you will. His job is to keep eyes on lance 24/7, make sure he shares every vision he has, every inkling of divine intervention and wisdom.
But to Lance, Keith is so much more. He's his confident, his first real friend here and though Keith has never seen his face due to the veil magicked onto his face, Lance is so sure he feels Keith looking right into his eyes everytime they talk. Usually people will look past him, a select few will even look down in respect. But Keith? Keith has never feared meeting lances eyes even though they're hidden away.
It doesn't take long for Lance to fall in love with him. The realization hits like a tidal wave and with it his visions become clearer than a sunny day. They grow in power, in detail and lance has never felt so much pure quintessence race through his veins.
He doesn't tell the empire his visions have changed in strength least they take Keith away. Because if they discovered he did the one thing he was never to do, they'd have hell to bring down upon him.
Lance was never to be in love. He was never to hold lust in his heart. Yet here he was lusting after a man sent to guard him and keep him in check.
The day he accepts his love, Lance is sitting with Keith in his private gardens. The vision that hits him is harsher than anything he'd had so far.
In it he foresees something that leaves him gasping for breath: Keith's betrayal.
There's fire, the smell of smoke and screams for an intruder.
/"Capture him!"
"The emperor is dead!"
"Kill him"/
Blood on a blade, blood on pale hands, blood seeping through the slice on lances back....and purple eyes looking at him with a fierce determination
/"I'm sorry"
"No ....you aren't"/
"Lance?" Keith voice sounds so far away and concerned but lance can't break free from the cold taking over his veins.
/"You're right ....I'm not."/
"lance! Lance what's wrong-"
Lance chokes as he snaps free from it all, reality bringing him back to earth in a snap. He knows he's shaking, he knows Keith is concerned but all lance can think about is this:
If Keith is here for a reason, if Keith is to take this empire down then all Lance can do is give his aid. Because above all else he trusts Keith more than anyone, including the empire.
"I'm ok- just a vision"
Keith's hands grip his arms, it's steadying in its own way though it has no right to be after lance learned Keith would kill him.
"what did you see?"
If lance didnt know any better, he'd almost think Keith was genuinely concerned. "I saw the emperor, leading all to glory."
Lance watched Keiths face force itself into neutrality hoping the lie was enough
"Is that so?"
"Yes..." He takes Keith's hand squeezing it "in three full moons, everything will change."
He hopes it's hint enough, that Keith will understand that's the time he has left.
and their evening ends with Lance aware that his remaining moments with this man will be all he has left to love him.
+ lore notes 🎉 bc I've really thought about this ver alot (I have a second ver in my head somewhere this one's winning out)
-It's fantasy vld au
-Keith is a blade/part of the resistance that goes undercover to get Intel and ends up with the job of taking down the empire from the inside (he is not the only one planted there)
-lance doesn't have a family because the empire scopes out people born with the Oracle talents and scoops them away to raise them brainwashed from the start.
-lance was trained by the empire druids and is one of the only oracles not regularly punished by them bc he stays in his lane
-lance learned very early on to always say exactly what they want to hear so he always words his visions in just the right amount of vague details that it satisfies them and also isn't a full lie
-when he tells Keith the emperor will lead all to glory he purposefully leaves out who will be the one to do so bc he knows Keith will be the one the ppl look up to once all is said and done even if he refuses to be an emperor
-shiro having been a prisoner of the druids long ago, does not trust Lance bc he sees the oracles as extensions of the druids
-oracles are just quintessence sensitive beings that can't control it. Druids have tried and failed to turn them into proper alchemist and those they try have died.
-lance is heavily watched bc of this also, he's the remaining one with enough strength to be of interest. Had Keith and the rebellion not come he'd have been the next experiment attempt
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chaoticfandomgirly · 21 days
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The Stupidity of hating on fanon, featuring Jegulus.
Alright folks,
Welcome to another one of my rants because I found out that there are jegulus haters on tumblr. I have not encountered one but I saw it on my mutuals' page and I had some words (a lot of words) to say.
So let's get started...
One of the main complaints is saying that 'James would never fall for Regulus.' Umm...child, do you know what fanfic is? What fanon is? If not let me spell it out for you- it's made up. Something that is not canon and created by fans by employing their imaginations. We are not saying that James would fall for Regulus in canon at all, so please don't come barging in with your opinions. So yes, we don't really care about canon anyways.
Secondly, the argument of 'Regulus being a terrible person and pureblood supremacist' is really weak. Alright, he was a pureblood supremacist and was involved in terrible things. But do you know what else he was? He was just a 17 year old boy who grew up in an abusive household. A boy who had lost his big brother and had to learn survival at an age too young. He grew up before his time and was so traumatized that he always wanted to please his parents and do as they wish. Regulus was just another victim and he also was the one who ended up being the catalyst to Voldemort's defeat. As someone who studies psychology, viewing a person on the surface is the biggest sign of ignorance and it really shows. As for 'being terrible' then let's not forget that canon James wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either. He improved ofc, but he was still an asshole when he was young. Also, we really don't have enough background on canon Regulus to place him in one box. I love that some people want to believe him as good and fill in the blanks by writing something redeeming.
Then comes the 'it's a misogynistic ship'. Now, I won't argue it fully because I do think there are some people out there who don't like Jily bc they hate Lily. But, from what I've seen majority shippers ship both of them interchangeably or in a polyarmorous sense too. In fact, most jegulus shippers are also Marylily and pandalily shippers too. I really can't see anything misogynistic in it. I've actually read some great fics where Lily is a strong independent woman who is fierce and an overall queen.
And, if the 'canon' of it bothers you too much, then you should check out early Jegulus fics like Choices where nothing is sugar-coated. James still ends up with Lily. But in the end, it leaves you thinking and rooting for them anyways. The more new Jegulus fics are on a fluffier side but that fluff came in after bearing the pain of the full of angst fics like Choices.
Another thing should be noted is that these characters are also a big part of queer community. I've seen so many fans exploring themselves through these characters. Like Regulus as Trans is becoming a popular headcanon and it shows that through creative expression people are finding a safe place to explore. And if you're a bigot then...that is frankly a you problem. One I, or jegulus fans, don't want any part of.
In the end, my motive is not to convince you of shipping these two. It clearly started as a crackship, one even I stumbled upon accidentally. But the fandom has made it into something really beautiful and I think instead of spreading hate we should accept it. There are more problematic pairings to be concerned about, trust me. This one is the least of them all.
Thank you for listening to my rant. And if you have anything negative to say, kindly don't because it would just be proof of your own stupidness. There is no point you can argue about with anything substantial. Because in the end it's fanon. Let fans do what they want and if you don't like it then ignore. No one is forcing it on you.
@corwnvus I hope this covers it all. Also, I love your art. Did I mention that, already?
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momowoah · 4 months
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Okay but I really think that the worst part is that this is season seven. Unless they're planning to turn 9-1-1 into the new Grey's Anatomy the chances of us being already in the final half of the show are huge. I'm not saying that there shouldn't be any drama, but the characters should've started to go forward, and yet nearly all of them feel stuck in the same place they have been for several seasons. Or should I say 2-3 seasons?
tldr: all/most S7 storylines were either useless in the long run or recycles. The only characters who had storylines on the good side of the scale (as in, they helped the characters develop and move to a new place in their lives) were Maddie and Chimney (and maybe Buck but he's on thin ice). All the characters are back to the same place they were in s4/s5. It's probably TM's fault. This shouldn't be happening in a 7th season.
(really long post under the cut but worth it imo)
Bobby and Athena had a whole seven episodes for their storylines and yet it didn't significantly change anything about them or their relationship. The doubts of how they are when they're at peace that were brought up in ep1 ended up not being addressed at all. We started the season with what was supposed to be this huge thing in their relationship and it was just never brought up again! Instead they put bathena through distress again just for the sake of being dramatic. And while I'm extremely glad we got Amir and think there were several high points in his storyline, what difference did it make in the long run? Yes, it brought up interesting things to Bobby's storyline, such as more insight into his childhood and the chance for him to explore another side of the fire he caused, but is it going to change anything? No! Bobby will be reinstated in S8 bc that's just how these things go, and I doubt they'll put any effort to continue the survivors storyline. I'd bet it'll just be ignored in the next seasons.
Hen and Karen have been trying for YEARS AND YEARS to adopt a child and they just can't let them! As a wlw, do you know how awful that is to watch? Seeing them fail time and time again and have their family broken up once again just because??? It was one thing with Nia, she got a happy ending, but that wasn't the case with Mara. The best thing for everyone involved would be for her to stay with Hen and Karen, but they blew it up. I know she's with Madney, but it's not the fucking same. Why do they have to go through this again? Why can't they finally get the family they've spent years fighting for? Why can't the drama be about anything else, why does it have to be about failed adoptions? I've seen this enough times before. Why not let them be able to adopt???? Why? I'm genuinely upset abt this btw, probably more than about anything else that went down.
Buck got to finally come out and it was great but instead of taking it as an opportunity to let him grow into himself they just threw him right back into the hamster wheel of dating people who are either not fully into him or who he's not fully into. (if you like bt probably skip the rest of this paragraph but I'd also be upset about how they're handling them if I liked the ship bc I liked the previous bt and they did something similar to them lol) Tommy's behavior could be explained away at first, but I feel like time and time again the show goes the extra mile to make him uninterested in Buck or just straight up an asshole to him? Instead of taking the small opportunities of portraying them as a healthy happy couple they just consistently screw up their relationship? They're not the couple I support but even then I wanted them to be good together bc I want Buck to be happy, and yet all we get is this?
I don't even have words about Eddie, especially considering what rg has said about him destroying his life and possibly reverting back to military no emotions mode next season. WHY CAN'T HE BE HAPPY? We already saw him break down, WE'VE ALREADY HAD A STORYLINE ABOUT HIM REBUILDING HIS LIFE, but happiness is boring so now he has to ruin his relationship with his son too right? It just pisses me off how they go about his character sometimes. I liked that they were bringing back the Shannon storyline because he was supposed to be able to finally move on, but this wasn't about that. No, it was about retraumatizing Eddie and Chris and splitting them up at a time when they should be leaning on each other and healing, because Chris has also been suffering with the Shannon stuff. We saw it in fucking ep 1. Don't even get me started on the Marisol stuff because idek why she was there at all. Literally don't get it. We had an off-screen breakup anyways. She wasn't relevant at all to anything that happened. Why was she even there? I'm genuinely asking. The only Eddie arc that has some positive potential for next season is him dealing with his relationship with religion (especially if they tie it to the military and the way he lives his life for others' expectations), but tbh I don't trust them not to fuck it up.
Finally, I don't have complaints about madney, except for why tf was Maddie so absent this season? The wedding episode was all about Chimney (who was also maybe kinda missing tbh), and although I love him and his backstory and the opportunity to see Kevin again, I really wanted it to be about their relationship, since it was their wedding, yk. Dispatch was also severely under utilized. We did get the 7x07 Maddie plotline and it might've been bc it was a shortened season but yeah, I'm still not that satisfied.
So, we have all the characters stuck in places they've been before. More specifically, in the place they were in season 4/5. Bathena relationship problems followed by a life threatening situation? Check. Henren struggling with adoption? Check. Buck getting into what was supposed to be a good relationship only for it to end up going really bad? Check. Eddie struggling with relationships and his mental health going to hell? Check. Madney in a good place with a new child and about to have an awful fucking time? Hopefully just check for the first part. And you know which question this makes me ask? It's whether Tim Minear is just reverting everyone to their s4 state out of spite for the seasons he was away. And even if it is a genuine attempt at getting the show back on the track he wanted out of good intentions, it still sucks, because it doesn't change the fact that it is just a repeat of old storylines. I actually complained at this before the show even aired, but (iirc) I ended up deleting my post because I thought that I was just overreacting. Guess what? I fucking wasn't, bc that's EXACTLY what they did.
Now, going back to the start of this post, the reason why all these storylines suck so much is not that they are bad. It's not even that they aren't original. No, it's the fact that we're doing storylines that belong in the fourth or fifth season of a show in its seventh season. Even the Gerrard plotline, which is new to 9-1-1, feels like it came too late, because the split up crew/villain captain storyline tends to happen much sooner in procedurals, and for a reason. Besides the fact that this was never really a big bad type of show and I don't get why they are making it one all of a sudden, and ignoring the fact that Gerrard being brought back as captain, especially to the 118 of all places, makes no fucking sense, that kind of plotline is one that it's obviously always temporary. No one believes he'll still be the captain by the end of 8A, much less by the end of the season. He'll hardly survive the first 3-5 episodes. That's ultimately a filler storyline. It helps the show go on for longer, it might even help in the development of a couple characters, but at the end of the day it doesn't change anything, which appears to be a recurring theme when it comes to 9-1-1 storylines.
The reason I have a problem with this is that we don't need a filler storyline, because no one knows whether the show has the luxury of taking its sweet time. Yeah, it has a huge audience and it is doing good numbers, but it is still a fucking money pit that was already cancelled once and it's unsustainable on the long run. It might not end that soon, but is it honestly going to reach season 14? Does anyone truly think that we've only seen half of it (or less) so far? Because I don't. Not many shows make it that far, and there's a reason for that. We have three huge names who are extremely important to the show. What happens if they get tired? What happens if someone gets a better offer? What happens if we're still revisiting old storylines when that happens? Do we get an incomplete story or a rushed one?
The show should be moving forward, even if there are no plans for it to end soon. We have the drama of the huge disasters 9-1-1 loves. We have the drama of the cases. We have a myriad of new possible dramatic storylines for the characters that show development without being too final. Athena could have so many different job related storylines (from moving up in her career to abandoning it), and her and Bobby's storyline from the beginning of the season about being boring together can be played in a good and dramatic line. Henren and Madney have a whole world of parenting issues that they could go through. Buck and Eddie both still need either an endgame love interest (whether it's each other or not) or to get to the point where they are fine not having one, and we have all of the relationship trouble that comes with that. This show can give us new things, storylines that are good for the characters, without losing the dramatic factor (which, if I'm being honest, would not be a deal breaker for me). Yet, it refuses to, and probably not for a good reason, because it comes down to either Tim wanting to rewrite history or just trying to drag this show for as long as possible (which apparently he only knows how to do by refusing to make the characters happy). And you know what? I'm fucking mad about it, and I think you should be too.
Btw, this is not to say the whole season sucked. We got Madney and Henren together multiple times which was great. We finally got Bi Buck. There were several amazing acting moments for both the main and recurring actors. As a standalone season, it was good. It just doesn't work when you look at the bigger picture.
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