#but this was one of my most anticipated scenes and i never in a million years thought it would be cut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ierofrnkk · 1 month ago

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Summer’s Over

merman!Cecil Dennis x reader (~5.6k)

Summary: Someone, or, something washed ashore when you went to the beach. You bring him home, and you realize that things are much more complicated than you would have anticipated.

Content: gn!reader, reader is fine getting their hair wet, Cecil is literally a mermaid, angst, he gets homesick, medium burn, it’s my mythology I make the rules

a/n: blacked out and wrote 4k of this in one day. merman!cecil has completely captivated me

It was early when you headed out to the beach to go fishing, something you’d picked up over the course of the summer. The sun has barely begun to rise in the sky, the entire scene completely serene and comfortable.

Making your way down to the shore, you let your eyes drift over the horizon, making note of the few small fishing boats that have already set off for their daily routine, far off in the distance.

When you get closer to the water’s edge, though, you see someone lying still in the sand. Your heart jumps in your throat, immediately worrying that a surfer had gone out to catch early waves and had washed ashore unconscious.

As you approach, though, you realize it’s a much more complicated situation.

—

The man, who you now wonder if you can even call him that, is lying on his side in the sand, definitely unconscious. Your concern is waylaid by the fact that in place of where his legs would be, is a tail.

Deep green and blue, with a large fin at the end where his feet would be and a few smaller fins on either side of the tail.

This isn’t at all how you expected your morning to go.

There’s a mermaid—merman?—washed up on the shore where you fish.

Your mind flips through about a million potential scenarios, most of which being some variation of you being still asleep in bed and dreaming this; you know it’s not true, though, and you realize that you have to come up with a plan.

You can’t leave him here, out cold on the beach where the early crowd will soon come, finding him and probably killing him to mount on their wall.

For some insane, absurd reason, you decide the next course of action is to take him home until he wakes up and you can bring him back.

Fishing can wait for another day. Or maybe never again.

—

With great difficulty, you manage to drag him back up the beach and get him situated in the back of your car.

There’s a mer-fish-person in the back of my car, you think to yourself on the drive home, trying your hardest to rationalize it. That’s fine. This is definitely something normal that happens.

After the painfully long drive home, you panic for about three seconds as you try to think of exactly where you’re going to put him.

Eventually, you decide on your bathtub. Where else are you going to keep a semi-aquatic creature?

You run the tap, letting the water warm to a temperature that’s close enough to the sea, and you manage to get him into the tub with a bit more effort. He’s still unconscious, or at the very least, asleep, but he stirs when you get him in the water.

It’s only after you’re done getting him settled that you really take a good look at him.

The deep green-blue scales of his tail stop somewhere around his midsection, just above his hips, where that beautiful color transitions into his human half. The skin of his abdomen is tanned, just a little bit soft but still toned—from all the swimming, is what you assume.

He’s got a little bit of scruff on his jaw, something you didn’t expect from your limited knowledge of merfolk, mostly spanning from poorly-made 80’s movies, but he’s handsome. He has a prominent nose and pretty, dark eyelashes; his hair is shorter, but a dark brown and slightly curly on top.

You’re staring, but you can’t really be blamed for it.

—

He wakes up a half hour later, clearly confused as to why he’s in your house and not on the shore. You’re sitting on a chair beside the tub, having been watching him with untamed curiosity.

“What the fuck?”

Not what you expected, but alright. It takes you a beat longer than you’d like to come to your senses and give him something reminiscent of an answer.

“You were unconscious on the beach, I, uh—“You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to find the right words.

“—didn’t want you getting hurt, so..”

“So you brought me home,” he interjects, and you nod.

He shifts in the water, tail flicking slightly as he presumably tries to get used to the new situation.

After a few beats of heavy, uncomfortable silence, he speaks up again.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

You give him a polite smile, unable to take your eyes off of those stunning blue-green scales.

He splashes you, getting you out of your head.

“You’re staring at me.”

Your face flushes, and you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him at all.

“Sorry, I just—“

He cuts you off before you can continue, chuckling softly. You swear you’ve never heard a more beautiful sound.

“You’ve never seen someone like me. I get it. You can look.”

And you do.

“I’ll bring you back tomorrow morning, early. I don’t want anyone seeing you, I can’t—“ You take a breath, shaking your head briefly at the thought of what might happen to someone as remarkable as him if you let someone else get their hands on him.

“I can’t let anything happen to you. If someone else saw you, they’d probably, y’know.”

You make a vague gesture with one hand, allowing him to fill in the blanks; he nods in understanding.

He doesn’t seem as bothered about his current situation as you thought he might be, probably grateful that you’d saved him from certain doom.

“What’s your name?”

“Cecil,” he answers, simply.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but his name being Cecil was definitely not it.

“Cecil?” You echo, a bit incredulous.

He laughs again, nodding in the affirmative.

“What, you expected something more fantastical?”

Yes.

“I guess I just…didn’t expect you to have, like, a normal name.”

“Can I have your name?”

You tell him, and he repeats the word like he’s trying to imprint it in his memory.

You decide that you like the way your name sounds coming from his mouth.

—

The two of you spend a good part of the morning just talking.

He tells you about where he’s from, a city deep beneath the sea, about how it’s not much different from any other city, it’s just…underwater. You find that interesting, and express your interest in seeing it someday.

He agrees with the sentiment—he’d love to show you if you one day develop gills.

You listen with slight surprise as he admits that he’s never seen a human before; he’s never gotten close enough. He’s baffled by your legs and asks—with a sincerity you can’t even laugh at—how you manage to swim with them.

You answer him honestly, that you don’t swim much, so you don’t really use your legs for that. He plays up his surprise at the notion that you don’t swim that much.

You ask him with the same sincerity how he can breathe under the sea without any visible gills. He tells you that he just can.

A part of you doesn’t want him to leave.

—

Living a short drive from the coast has a few upsides, one of which being your ease of access to fresh seafood—something he expressed that he does, in fact, eat.

So, you went out and picked up some crabs, cooking a few for yourself, while he insisted that you keep his raw. You made a face, but obliged.

It makes sense, but it’s still odd in your mind.

The two of you are seated across from each other, a plate in your lap and resting on the edge of the tub where he resides in the water.

You pick at your cooked crabs, watching as he eats his raw with something you can only describe as morbid fascination.

This isn’t exactly a conventional situation, so you can decide that you can ignore him eating raw seafood.

—

You don’t want to leave him alone, in some odd mix of curiosity and politeness, so you accommodate him, just for the night.

You bring a few extra blankets into the bathroom, setting them down on the floor beside the bathtub in an attempt to make the hard tile floor somewhat comfortable. It’s not the best, but it’s manageable for one night.

He seems grateful for the company, especially spending the night in such a foreign place, so far from home.

You planned on just going to sleep, but as you lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling of the darkened room, you can’t fight that curiosity, eager to fill the dead air.

“What’s it like, being so far away from the rest of the world?”

You can hear him shift, the water making a noise as he moves, presumably thinking about your question for a moment.

“It’s different, I guess,” he starts, pausing for an extended period before eventually continuing.

“That’s my world down there, y’know? So I’m not really far away from anything, but I know what you mean,” he clears his throat, and you can hear his tail making noise in the water.

“It’s hard being away from it, but it’s interesting seeing what’s up here. I’ve never really—ever—gone up to the shore.”

You listen intently as he explains that to you, and you can’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty about taking him home with you.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve just—“

“No,” he interjects before you can even finish that thought.

“I would’ve died if I stayed out there. Much worse people would’ve found me and probably had me mounted on their wall by the afternoon.”

The air is a little heavier now, more tense with the seriousness of the conversation. He seems comfortable with this topic, so you leave it for the time being.

“You saved my life,” he tells you, voice as sincere as you’ve heard it in the short time you’ve known him.

“I can’t thank you enough for that, seriously. I’ll find some way to repay you.”

You want to tell him no, that he doesn’t need to do that, but it feels rude to interrupt when he’s being so genuine and open with you.

This is probably the most honest, intimate conversation you’ve ever had with somebody, and they’re not even of the same species.

That part of you that doesn’t want him to leave gets a little bigger.

You didn’t even realize you had been getting so into your own thoughts, and it’s only when you feel another splash of warm water on you.

“Cecil, what—“

“You’re being too quiet. I just made this whole speech and everything and you’re not saying anything.”

You quickly realize he’s teasing you. Teasing you.

You can’t stop yourself from laughing at his choice of words, and he laughs along with you. When he smiles, you take note of the slight sharpness of his teeth, and that doesn’t deter you nearly as much as you thought it would.

You’re starting to really like his company, and that’s not good.

—

The two of you end up falling asleep not long after that, and you find yourself getting very used to the sound of his tail flicking in the water every now and then as he sleeps; clearly, he’s not built to exist in your bathtub.

It’s a constant reminder of the fact that he can’t stay here. You have to bring him home eventually.

You wake up before him, and spend this time bringing the bedding back into your bedroom, before ending up in your kitchen to decide on something for breakfast.

You settle on toast and coffee, and bring a small dish up to him with some leftover tuna from the other night.

He’s awake by the time you make it back up the stairs, the upper half of his body draped dramatically over the edge of the tub. He’s got a pout on his face, and giving a look you can only describe as puppy-dog eyes.

“What?” You ask, a laugh breaking through the word.

“Woke up and you were gone,” he starts, tone overly pitiful and sad.

“Thought you’d completely abandoned me here.”

You roll your eyes and hand him his plate. He accepts it eagerly.

“No you didn’t, you big baby,” you reply, your tone nothing but playful.

He makes a face of mock-surprise, and the next thing you know, his tail is flicking in the water and you’ve been splashed. Again.

“Maybe I should’ve left you on that beach,” you joke, and he snorts, starting to pick at the piece of fish you’d brought to him.

“I would’ve been better off, and unfortunately I can’t drown you.”

That gets a good laugh out of him, and you’re grateful that he’s taking this lightly—the last thing you’d want to do is offend him or cross a line.

You’re quickly realizing that he probably doesn’t even have a line to be crossed.

“Maybe in another life, I’ll come back as a human so that you can drown me,” he muses, joking as he finishes up his plate.

You can’t deny the feeling of warmth that blooms in your chest when he says that.

You don’t want him to leave.

He doesn’t seem to want to leave, either, because he agrees to stay an extra day. For your convenience, he tells you. You don’t know how to feel about that.

—

Since Cecil’s now going to be staying longer than anticipated—not that you anticipated him staying at all—you decide to stay by him to try and keep him somewhat entertained, since he can’t really explore your home, and you’re not strong enough to carry him around for long periods of time.

He very quickly finds a way for the two of you to pass the time, asking about different things that he can see from his vantage point, which you happily explain to him.

He asks about your hair dryer, and you demonstrate what it does by turning it on a low setting and letting him feel the warm air—it completely fascinates him, but you put it away before he inevitably dries himself out with it.

You watch with quiet amusement as he grabs the fork from your lunch plate, insisting that he knows what this is. It takes everything in you not to laugh when he brushes the tines of said fork through his curls, and after letting him carry on for a few moments, you gently take the utensil away from him.

He blushes a pretty shade of pink when you tell him the actual purpose of it, and you find yourself staring at him—not his tail, for once—for a few beats too long.

You have a few questions of your own for him, most of which involve his lifestyle under the sea, which he graciously answers for you.

“It’s just like how I assume life is up here,” he tells you, clearly very interested in talking about his home.

“It’s a city—we have shops and jobs, a governing body, the whole like,” he laughs softly, reverently.

“It’s a lot nicer than you’re probably thinking it is. I’d love to take you there, someday. Show you my home properly.”

That warmth blooms and blossoms in your chest.

“I’d love to visit,” you manage, barely able to keep your voice steady, taken aback by the sincerity of his offer, a contrast to his playful, sarcastic tone.

He grins, so wide that you’d swear he’s just heard the best news of his life.

—

You play him some of your favorite music, and you’re surprised that he actually enjoys some of it.

He likes the vibrations that your speaker makes when it’s playing, so you let him hold it as you choose the next song to play.

Good thing it’s waterproof.

He laments that he isn’t able to show you his favorite songs. Not in the way they’re meant to be heard, at least.

“Sound works differently when you’re that deep underwater,” he explains, trying to find the best words to describe the phenomenon.

“So music is a lot different; it’s beautiful. I’m sure you’ve heard whale songs before?”

You nod. Of course you have.

“It’s like that,” he smiles, and you can detect a bit of sadness in it. Longing.

“It’s so beautiful. The music back home is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

You reach over and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He returns the gesture, and you notice that his eyes have gone glassy.

He clears his throat after a beat, using the back of his other hand to quickly wipe away any tears that have surfaced.

“Sorry, I’m, uh—not trying to get all emotional. Just a little homesick, I guess.”

Your heart breaks a little when he says that, and you decide with absolute certainty that he’s going back home first thing tomorrow morning.

“Don’t apologize,” you insist gently, tone soft.

“If I was far away from home and in a completely new place, I’d be pretty homesick, too.”

He squeezes your hand gently, and you continue.

“This has been really fun, and an unbelievable experience, but I’m bringing you home tomorrow.”

He nods appreciatively, and you watch him as he smiles.

It’s bittersweet.

He doesn’t want to leave either.

—

A sort of strange air lingers between the two of you after that.

You both know that this has to end. It’s not right for you to keep him away from his home to live an unfulfilling life in your bathtub, but you’ve grown fond of him in the short time you’ve known him.

He’s silly, but he’s so well-spoken. He’s seen things that you’ve only ever dreamed of or seen in a nature documentary. He’s lived a life so different from your own, and that’s exactly the problem.

You’ve moved your chair closer to the bathtub, sitting beside it and facing him, instead of sitting on the opposite side of the room as him.

You play more music for him, and let him bring your speaker underneath the water with him so he can hear it the way he’s used to. He smiles so wide that you can’t take your eyes away from him.

You keep your eyes on him as much as you can—you know that this is probably the last time you’ll see him, so you’re absorbing as much as you can.

There’s one more thing you really want to do, and when he resurfaces, you build up what little nerve you have left to just ask.

“Can I touch your tail?” You ask him, and immediately cringe, knowing you sound like a little kid at a petting zoo.

He doesn’t seem to feel that same awkwardness, thankfully, and that smile returns—softer, now.

“Sure.”

Before you can think to respond or reach out for yourself, he takes your wrist in his grip, pulling you closer until the palm of your hand rests at about where his thigh would be.

You feel your face go hot, but thankfully he isn’t looking at you—he’s focused on the slow, gentle movement of your hand on his tail. It doesn’t take you long to notice there’s the slightest flush to his cheeks as well.

The texture of it is different than you expected—his scales are smooth, and he feels more like a snake than he does a traditional fish. He keeps your wrist in his grip, bringing your hand down to where his knees would be.

To accommodate for the slight change in angle, you move in your seat, and this inadvertently brings your face a lot closer to his.

He raises his head to look at you, and clearly wasn’t prepared for the decreased proximity between the two of you, his breath hitching in his chest.

“Was that—“ he starts, clearing his throat before he continues. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for the briefest of seconds.

“Was that okay?”

You can’t do this. You shouldn’t, at the very least. You can feel the warmth of his scales under your palm, the slight tremble of his fingers around your wrist.

You don’t kiss him, even though you know how badly you want to, you don’t. To answer his question, you nod, your eyes never leaving his.

“That was perfect,” you murmur, voice a bit too soft.

You know that you’re going to regret not kissing him, but you can’t set yourself up for that kind of false hope. Nothing could ever come from this sort of lingering attraction between you and the merman you found washed up on the beach.

“Perfect,” he echoes, and it takes a Herculean amount of strength to keep yourself from kissing him right there.

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to gather what little amount of strength you have left to pull your hand away from his.

You figure that it doesn’t hurt to continue being honest with him, especially now, after something like that.

“I’m going to miss you.”

You swear his eyes have never been wider.

After what feels like an eternity of silence, he manages to get a few words out.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

The knowledge that he’s leaving early tomorrow morning makes your heart ache that much more.

He shifts in the water, clearly going through the same thought process that you are in that moment. The feeling reminds you of when your favorite family member has to go back home after busing for the holidays. It’s inevitable, but you hate that it has to happen.

“Can I have something to remember you?” He eventually asks, the question catching you a little off guard.

Immediately, your mind flashes through every single thing you’ve ever owned in your life.

You nod in agreement, already having decided on what you’re going to give him.

Standing, you rush into your bedroom to grab his keepsake—a thin, silver bracelet—when it catches the sunlight, it gleams, reflecting the light so beautifully.

You bring it back to him, and when you sit back in your chair beside him, you hand him the bracelet sheepishly.

It’s simple, and maybe a little tacky to be giving him a bracelet, but the way his eyes light up when he sees it is a pretty fair indicator that you’ve made a good choice.

Immediately, he slips the cuff on, admiring the way that the silver catches the light coming through the window in your bathroom.

After a few beats of watching him dumbly, you manage to ask him the same question.

“Can I have something to remember you?”

You don’t expect him to give you something—he didn’t exactly come with anything, but he nods, and immediately you start to wonder what he could possibly give you.

The racing thoughts are quickly silenced when he shifts in the water, bending his knees and reaching down near the base of his tail, where his main tailfin begins. You watch as he takes hold of and plucks a scale from the end of his tail.

He hands you the scale, and you hold it like it’s the most fragile thing in the world. It fits perfectly in your palm, no bigger than a half-dollar coin.

It shimmers in the light—a beautiful mix of blues and greens, the hues shifting as you move it slightly.

“Are you sure?” Is the first thing you manage to ask him, completely floored by the fact that he’s literally given you a piece of himself.

His voice is soft when he replies, his eyes holding a depth to them that you’ve yet to see from him.

“They grow back,” he insists.

“I didn’t want you to forget me.”

Your heart twists and knots in your chest.

You’re holding him in your hands, literally. You can’t think of anything else besides the very definite fact that you’re going to hold onto this scale for the rest of your life.

“I could never forget you.”

You swear that he stops breathing for a moment when you say that.

The next thing you know, he’s sinking down beneath the surface of the water, evidently very flustered by this exchange and needing a moment to compose himself.

When he finally resurfaces, you watch the way his curls stick to his skin, damp and darkened by the water.

“I’ll visit you. I’ll come back.”

Now it’s your turn to stop breathing.

You trace your thumb over the surface of the scale, trying to wrap your head around the implications of this all, and the fact that there’s clearly now something between the two of you that’s hard for you to believe developed at all.

You nod.

“Okay.”

—

The tension between you and Cecil has simultaneously been broken and built up even more. You want nothing more than to kiss him senseless, to feel the way his curls feel in your hands, but you resist.

You’re not going to torture yourself, dangling the carrot on the stick in front of yourself like that, knowing that you’ll never be able to truly have him.

You feel okay, though. His scale fits perfectly in a locket that you’d yet to find a use for, so now it lives in the pendant around your neck—a memory that you’re never going to forget for as long as you live.

He’s wearing the bracelet you gave him. It’s silver, so it’ll never rust when he’s back home.

You share a plate with him when you have dinner that night. One side of the fish has pieces of raw salmon that you’d gotten just for him, and the other has a few pieces of the same fish, cooked.

His hand brushes yours “accidentally” a few times as you eat, and every time, your heart jumps in your throat.

—

The sun’s set now, and you’ve turned off the harsh, artificial light in the bathroom, leaving you two in darkness besides the night light plugged in on the opposite side of the room.

You’ve abandoned your chair by this point, having settled yourself onto the ledge of your bathtub. He’s resting his head on his arms, settled onto that same edge, right beside your legs.

He’s looking at you like you’re the one that hung the stars in the sky.

These are two paths that never should’ve crossed. Two lives that never should have met.

You can barely make out his features in the dim light, but you see him so clearly. You want to kiss him so badly it hurts.

His hand moves to rest on your knee, fingers tracing gentle, aimless shapes and circles against your skin, just below the hem of your shorts.

The feeling between you—some sick twist of desire and longing that knots in the pit of your stomach—is near unbearable.

Your hand comes up to rest in his hair, your fingers brushing lightly through his curls. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a moment, completely enamored by you and everything that you do.

You swear you’ve never felt such intimacy before in your life.

He’s leaving first thing tomorrow morning; you’re going to drive him back to the beach and bring him right to the water.

He’ll swim away, and that’ll be that.

The pendant weighs heavily around your neck.

You watch him as he shifts, bringing himself closer to you. One of his arms rests lamely in his lap, while his other moves to allow him to continue touching you. His hand has shifted to your calf, still tracing those gentle shapes against your skin.

Now, he’s resting his head on your knee as your hand continues to brush lightly through his hair.

You want to say something to him; you feel like you should.

A goodbye, or a sappy speech, or a hasty, uncoordinated expression of the feelings for him that have developed over these two days.

You decide against any of it. It’d ruin the moment, anyway.

The room remains quiet, save for your breathing, and the soft sound of the motion of the water as he shifts, the confined space of your bathtub clearly becoming too much for him to handle.

He’ll be out of here tomorrow, you remind yourself.

His hair is soft beneath your fingertips, and you wish you could remember the way it feels forever. You feel the way his hand traces up and down your calf, the motion repetitive and soothing all at the same time.

It’s like he’s trying to memorize the feel of your skin in his touch.

He doesn’t touch you any more than that, and you’re equal parts grateful and disappointed.

Eventually, you move to sit on the floor, leaning up against the tub. You miss the feeling of his hand on you, of his head in your lap, but this is just as nice.

The two of you assume a similar position, arms settled on the edge of the tub, with your heads resting on your forearms.

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep, so close to him like this.

—

You wake up before him, the slightest bit of dread beginning to sink into the pit of your stomach when you register that today’s the day. He’s going home.

The sun hasn’t risen yet, so you take this time to get your things ready to bring him back to the shore—bottles of water, the bag you use to hold your beach towels—and get it all packed into your car.

By the time you return, he’s awake, and you give him a soft, reluctant smile. His expression mirrors yours.

“Time for me to take you home.”

The smile on his face falters for a moment, but he nods. You both knew this day was coming. It was inevitable.

It’s a bit of a struggle, but you manage to get him out of the water, and carry him back down the stairs through your home.

He’s looking everywhere, trying to absorb as much information about your life as he can gather from your decor.

Though your muscles protest, you walk a little slower, just to give him more time.

Eventually, you get him settled in your car. It’s not a very long drive to the beach, and there’s no traffic so early in the morning, so he agrees to sit in the front seat with you.

There’s a towel laid out on the seat, and you’ve given him a few bottles of water to pour over himself if he gets too dry; you don’t care about your car at all right now.

He takes in the sights of your city as you drive, all the little beachfront shops and tacky tourist attractions, the surplus of hotels for summer visitors, and everything else wedged in between.

The drive to the beach is quiet, but you manage to get there quicker than you would’ve liked to.

The sun has barely begun to rise in the sky, the sunrise reminiscent of the one you’d seen the morning when you’d first found him on the shore.

Once you park and gather your things, you begin carrying him down from the dunes, all the way to the shore.

Your muscles ache, carrying him wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but you didn’t have much in the way of options.

You know that you can’t just leave him on the shore again and hope he’ll work himself back into the sea, so when you reach the line where the water meets the sand, you kick off your shoes and keep walking.

The water is surprisingly warm, especially since it’s so early in the morning, and you continue to walk.

You can feel the nervous tension, the conflict that lives within him—he’s eager to get back in the sea, you know that, but as you carry him, he clings to you a little tighter.

Your clothes are getting wet. You don’t even care anymore.

When you get to around waist-deep in the sea, you lower him into the water, and he adjusts to being back in a proper body of water—his home.

This is goodbye. You know it is. It has to be.

He gives you that soft, crooked smile, the one that says more than any words ever could, and he disappears beneath the waves.

It’s not a few seconds later that you feel his hand in yours, pulling you along with him. You gasp, taking a quick breath as you’re brought under the water.

You don’t have time to process what he’s done, because before you can think, he’s put his hands on either side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss.

His lips are pressed to yours, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. Your hands manage to find their way into his hair, holding him close as you kiss him.

Your lungs burn in protest, desperate for air as he holds you beneath the water to kiss you. He must be able to sense it, because through some process beyond your realm of understanding, he passes breath to you, filling your lungs with air as he continues to kiss you the way you’ve wanted him to from the moment he met you.

It feels like an eternity later when he finally pulls away, and you manage to open your eyes to look at him.

He grins at you, wide and crooked, before he turns and swims away.

You watch him for as long as you can, until you finally have to resurface for air.

You wear that pendant every single day until he returns to visit you.

—

tags: @silvernight-m , @midgardian-witch , @femmeanonymelives , @faretheeoscar , @reallyrallyauthor , @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#cecil dennis #cecil dennis x reader #cecil dennis x you #merman!cecil x reader #merman #mermaids #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac x you #revenge for jolly #oscar isaac fanfiction #merman x reader #fanfiction #monsterfucktober

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mrinafria · 6 months ago

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Just last night I was sitting there going through my edit drafts, and I looked at this scene, to notice all these things Seon Jae does before/during the live radio call.

Really wasn't going to write about OG Seon Jae after my last post on him. I never knew I had such a masochistic side to me until Lovely Runner because all I've done since this show started is go back to rewatch episode 1-4, over and over and over and over again as if this was a hell loop I created for myself.

There's hope, anticipation, a bit of excitement too. He will hear her voice. Again. He will get to talk to her. For the first time. Yeah. The OG Seon Jae never got to talk to Im Sol. He admired her, crushed on her, liked her, observed her, tried whatever he could as a 19yo to save her, but he never, ever got to talk to her. This is the very. first. time. he's able to have a conversation with her.

But she doesn't pick up. And he has to put a leash on his emotions in those few seconds because this version of Ryu Seon Jae stopped showing his true emotions long back. Ah, this was the only chance I had. I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could hear her voice. I wish I could know how she's been doing. Just once. Just this one time.

He introduces himself using his name. Not along with his band name, which is the usual practice, mind you. And a very little pause before going "Do you know me?"

Sometimes when you long for a person, crave for their voice, their smile, their presence in your life and your world, you desperately want to be present in their world too, no matter how trivial your presence or your existence might be to them. Seon Jae hoped she would remember; even if she didn't consider him her savior (which he never thought he was) he desperately wanted some semblance of familiarity in her voice, even if it was out of nothing but resentment. Maybe even something as painful as How dare you call me.

And she does share her resentments, not towards Seon Jae the 19yo boy who she doesn't remember, but Ryu Seon Jae the idol, along with everyone present there, for putting her through this misery, triggering her worst trauma and twisting the knife in her wound that has already driven her to the brink of ending it all. Everyone is uncomfortable here, except for this one guy. He's back to reliving that incident that forever changed her life, his life and brought them to this moment here. He is reminded of just how big of a failure he is, for failing this one person he never wanted to fail. He is reminded how a moment of indecision/inaction on his part led to the person he loves the most to be this miserable. In this moment above, you look at him and realize it's no longer Ryu Seon Jae; it's the 19yo Seon Jae, the one at the reservoir, the one who kept chanting mianhae to an unconscious Im Sol, the one who waited on that bench while she underwent surgery--clutching on to the watch in anguish as if that was the only thing keeping him from falling apart--the one who stood by her hospital door, listening to her screams while shattering into a million pieces inside. It's the 19yo Seon Jae who would be haunted by her screams and live for the remainder of his brief life in extreme guilt and regret mixed with intense longing, until he meets his untimely demise on that fateful night.

I often wonder if he could sense it from her voice on the call. Just how close she was to the edge, how she was probably going to do something that very day right after the call ended. Was it because he felt her pain as if it were his own? You see him springing to action right when we think it's over, as if he is desperate to help her, any. way. he. can. You see how restless his eyes get all of a sudden? He likely wants to say so many things to her. Sol-ah, I'm glad to hear your voice. Sol-ah, I'm sorry. Sol-ah, I hope you are okay. Sol-ah, I'm grateful you are here. Sol-ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't do better. I'm so sorry I failed to wake you up. I'm sorry I let you miss your stop. I'm sorry I didn't reach you sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't be more careful. You can hate me all you want. I'll live the rest of my life being sorry to you. You don't have to forgive me. I'm fine as long as you're okay, you're fine, you're happy. Sol-ah, I miss your smile. I miss the sound of it. I miss knowing you're happy somewhere, even if I am nowhere in your somewhere. Sol-ah, thank you. Sol-ah, please, please live.

But oh, he can't say any of that to her now. So all he says is "Thank you, for living. The ones by your side will thank you for that". And yes, he means himself.

He wanted to be the umbrella she once was to him, the gift she has been to him all his life, both literally and figuratively. And because Ryu Seon Jae is a person who will receive the affection/love you give with the utmost appreciation, increase it 10x more and return it to you gift-wrapped with sparkly ribbons, he chooses to be her umbrella this way, the only way he can.

He wanted to pull her out of the reservoir, literally and figuratively, so she could live. He didn't mind spending all his life stuck in that reservoir himself.

This was supposed to be a response to @thedeathdeelers rewatch post here and as usual, it ended up being a mess of feels (why do I even try really) I swear atp I feel like we're the same person watching feeling the same things lmao. You, don't ever shut up about this show please :')

p.s. I love writer Lee Si Eun for ultimately wanting to save THIS OG Ryu Seon Jae, and therefore initiating the memory flashback with pieces from this timeline. Although my heart will forever ache for this OG boy, it finds some comfort in that.

#Lovely Runner #Byeon Woo Seok #Kim Hye Yoon #Sun Jae #Im Sol #Seon Jae #선재 업고 튀어 #kdrama #kdrama recommendations #east asian drama #episode reaction #I actually didn't notice him not clapping until my third rewatch #and I was never the same once I watched the two povs side by side #I LOVE THIS SHOW #if you couldn't tell already #will keep shouting in the vacuum even if I'm the last person to do so *sob*

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tpwkwriter · 11 months ago

Note

Can we get y/n as a total book worm and Harry just finding it so adorable and loving that about her and teasing her and recreating cute scenes from romance books with her

Head in a book

I wish I could say I was a bookworm but in fact the only things I read are on tumblr🥲

Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of book tok😭fluffy as!!☁️

Pairing: Harry x quiet!y/n

——————————————————————————

Y/n appreciated a quiet life, the small moments were a huge thing to her, the smell of freshly baked bread, picking flowers, watching the stars n all.

So when her boyfriend is the most biggest popstar, surrounded by loud music, screaming fans, and flashy cameras, everyone thought the couple wouldn’t work out, oh how they were so wrong.

After loud music, flashy lights, the screams and chants of millions of fans, Harry learnt that quiet and peaceful moments were better shared with y/n, he didn’t just love her, he adored her and everything she did.

She was the quiet rain in the darkest of nights.

It was a common occasion that Harry would come home to y/n absolutely nose deep in a book on the sofa, he loved watching the way she would get totally immersed in the story and endorsed on the character’s behaviour and thinking process.

Well tonight was no different, the time neared 6:45pm and Harry was out of the studio relatively early, he walked into there shared home, before he could look around he could sense something wasn’t right, the lights were all off, normally y/n would have various candle scents lingering in the atmosphere and the sound of her playlist would be faintly heard in the background.

He toed off his shoes and released his belongings by the door (making a mental note to clean it up later)

And walked through to there shared living room, y/n was bundled on the sofa with a grey faux blanket covering her, her hoodies hood was covering her hair and her eyes looked red and defeated.

Alarm bells are immediately going off in Harry’s mind, and he’s quick to act.

“Hey you, what’s happening?” He asked gently asked, swiftly sitting down next to her, leaning back and gently tapping her arm enough to signal ‘come here’

“Harry? Didn’t even hear you come home” she said voice a little wobbly, she joined his side, lounging her legs across his lap and resting her head on his chest.

“S’okay, what happened my love?” He asked softly into her hair, allowing his hand to slowly trace gentle circles on her back.

“Well” she started

“You know the book i was close to finishing?” She sniffs.

Harry begins to slightly relax at the fact it may not be as serious as he anticipated.

“I do m’love” he smiled

“Well because, it wasn’t a good ending at all” she begins to tear up again and snuggle her head further into his chest.

He mainly chuckles out of relief that it wasn’t anything ‘real’ and ‘serious’ he continues to hold her and press kisses to her hairline.

“I’m sorry to hear that m’love, wanna speak about it?” He’d gently ask.

As she begins to tell him the tragedy of the protagonists death and the failing love story between characters, even if truthfully Harry had no idea, he loved listening and taking in what she had to say.

“It sounds like such a beautiful story though my love” he said, trying to amp the spirits up.

“Mhmm” shes hum against him, the rest of the night was filled with cuddles and a lazy dinner together.

——

It was a few weeks later and now y/n had got on to some new books, she was never without one.

One evening when y/n was sitting up reading in bed, and Harry was in there shared en suite getting ready for bed, y/n had an idea, that would send not only her but many girls around the world into a frenzy.

Before he finished up she sent up her phone discreetly on her beside table and began to work her magic.

“Harry!” She called

Lucky for her, timing was great, he emerged from the bathroom and was about to head out to the bed.

“Stay right there mister” she smirked

A confused smile crossed his face, at her instructions but he did as she said.

“Babe-?” He chuckled lowly.

“I’ve just been reading here” she said holding up her book

“And it says here: “with arms holding him up he leant against the doorframe admiring the girl in-front of him” “ she recites from the paper.

Rolling his eyes already knowing what she was gonna request.

“So if you could please, show me your best doorframe lean, I’d be very happy” she smiled as she put the book in her lap and leaned back against the headboard.

His famous smirk flashes at the girl

“Y’want me, to lean against the doorframe?” He chuckles.

“Basically, but like- in a really romantic and heroic way, y’know” she giggles.

Y/n can practically see Harry think of how he’s gonna do this.

“M’kay, I need you to c’mere then” he calmly requests.

“Harry, just do it!!” She blushes, she’s also thinking of how thankful she is for the 5 minute feature on TikTok!

“Will, just come here” he laughs, he walks over and takes both of her hands and guides her to the place he wants which is right by the doorframe but far enough.

When satisfied with were the both at, harrys left arm lifts up and due to his height sits just above the top door frame, already y/n found her self flustered, and with his right hand he held her face and pulled her in for a sweet kiss on her lips, while still holding the “doorframe leaning position”

She pulls away flustered and blushed up,

“You did not just do that” she laughs as she stares at him.

“No Harry, I know the fuck you did not do that” she states, her eyes still wide and her mouth curling up into a big smile.

The smirk of satisfaction crawled up on his face as he managed to to fluster up his girl, despite nearly 5 years of being together.

Remembering the iPhone camera pointing in there direction, she quickly turned on her heels to stop it, at the realisation of she’s been filming them hits Harry and it’s now his time to go red.

“You cheeky thing” he says going up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kept his chin on her shoulder as they watched the video they just made together, sharing laughs and smiles.

“Fuck sake” he smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple and getting into his side of the bed.

She presses post and couldn’t wait to see what everyone had to say tomorrow, she joined in the bed next to him.

“Safe to say girls are gonna be having a field day with that one” she laughs.

“Where did you learn that stunt from anyway?” She giggled leaning in to his side.

“Well baby” he started.

“When your girlfriend is obsessed with books and romance novels you do learn a few tricks along the way, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t read a few of your stuff” he nonchalantly pointed out.

Her eyes light up again.

“Really? You have?” She excitedly asked

“Mmmhmm, I got say y’got good taste” he shrugs.

“If you want recommendations just say”

——————————————————————————

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #my fic writing #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #fluff #harry styles fluff #thank you anon #requests #thank you for your patience #Harry #Harry fics #tpwkwriter work #Harry styles imagines #Harry styles fic

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astrolynnworld · 11 months ago

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caught

pairing: dom!matt x reader

summary: while you’re in the shower, matt finds some hidden toys. how quick can he be before your roommate gets back?

warnings: smut! toy usage, watching you masturbate, aggressive sex, caught by roommate, praise/degradation, pet names.

word count: 1,792

i squeal as i stretch from the stale position of my nap

i look over at matt who’s on his phone playing pokémon go

“hey” i speak with rasp

“oh you’re up” he smiles at me, “dont forget that nai invited us to her house party later”

fuck i forgot. i kinda dont even really wanna go, it just feels like the type of day where you lay in bed and never get up

“do we have to go?” i ask with a frown

“come on babe, we don’t have to stay long but let’s at least show our face” he replies

“fine. let me start getting ready now” i say as i hop out the bed to the shower

———————————————————————

matt’s pov:

after i hear the shower water turn on, i get up and walk to y/n’s mirror to see how i look for this party

“i need to brush my hair” i say out loud

i look around to see if she has a brush lying around anywhere

nope.

i start checking some drawers just in case she likes to keep everything tucked away

i open the first drawer to a bunch of shirts and crop tops. “not here” i say aloud

the second drawer was just filled with all kinds of pants. “not this either” i say again

i opened her bottom drawer because maybe this would be where she kept all her beauty supplies

but i was wrong.

all I see is mass amounts of electrical toys. from vibrators to dildos to plugs.

i didn’t know my girlfriend was this much of a freak..

a million questions was running through my mind. how often would she use these? was i not doing the job? why wouldn’t she ask me to incorporate these into our sex lives?

i waited for her to get out the shower so she could do some explaining

———————————————————————

y/n’s pov:

i get out the shower, grab my towel and walk back into my bedroom.

when i open the door i see matt standing by my dressers with the bottom one open

fuck. i know he saw the freak show i have going on in there

“wanna explain?” matt exclaims, breaking the silent staring contest we had

“are you mad?” i ask, letting that be the deciding factor on what i say next

“no. i just wanna know why i never knew you were into stuff like that” he brews

“it’s not like a super big deal. i touch and play with myself when you’re not always around” i tell

he walks closer to me, “do you think of me when you do”

i look up at him and nod, i could tell that the idea of this was turning him on

“which one do you think about me the most with?” he asks dominantly

“the blue wand looking one” i say as i point to the drawer

he goes to grab it then brings it back to me, “show me how you would use it”

i freeze

“huh?” i ask

“show me. how you would use it.” he demands as he hands me vibrator

i take it out his hand and stare as he finds a seat at my desk ready to watch the show

i have never had someone watch me masturbate before but the idea didn’t necessarily turn me off

i walk back over to my dresser because im going to need a little help if im using the vibrator

i grab the pink dildo that sat at the top of the drawer and i make my way to the bed

i could tell matt was putting up a lot of resistance to not speak since he didn’t want to ruin the scene

i take off my towel and lay down flat on the bed, facing my body towards him allowing him a perfect view of my already wet pussy.

i turn on the vibrator and place it on my clit.

this wand had high sensational levels so the vibrations were strong

i start rubbing the vibrators in circles before taking the end of the dildo and tracing it against my hole

i can hear matt’s anticipated breaths fill this silent room

i start slowly trying to push the dildo in as i fail to mask my small moans

the toy was pressing against my walls at the perfect pressure

from my peripheral vision i could see matt starting to undo his pants and take his dick out into his hands

the idea of him watching me masturbate had always secretly been a fantasy of mine

i continue to let these thoughts of matt watching me flow through my head as i push the dildo deeper into me

i whimper as i feel the tip of the toy push all the way against my g spot

i continue to circle the wand around my clit as i use the dildo to pull out and push deep back inside of me

the stimulus of both these toys at the same time was always enough to set me loose

i try to fight being nosy but i couldn’t control my body movements

i start slowly grinding into the wand and toy more and more aggressively

i slightly raise my head again to check on matt and i see him stroking his dick with his foggy eyes and chest panting from breathing so hard

i put my head back down and start whimpering her name as i continue to grind into the toys

“matt oh my god” i gasp out

“please matt.”

“fuck matt you feel so good.”

“don’t stop matt.”

“nugh- matt please keep fucking me” i say on repeat

i didn’t even notice matt had gotten up from the chair until i felt his hands slowly trace up my spreaded legs

i slowly stop the grinding just to see what his plan of action is

he pulls the dildo out and tosses it to the side before sliding his own dick inside

“matt-“ i try to speak as he starts thrusting into me

“i can’t watch this anymore. i have to be the one to make you cum. i always want to be the one to make you cum” he speaks

“you’re so fucking hot and nasty. putting on that slutty show for me knowing how turned on you make me” he continues

i don’t speak. i just let the noises flow from my mouth as he pushes balls deep inside of me

he grabs the wand from my hand and spits on my pussy before putting it back on my clit and rubbing it in with the wand

“fuck your pussy is so pretty. i cant get enough of you”

i stare up at him with a fucked out expression as his dick continues to pound inside of me

he puts his other hand on my throat and bends down to start kissing me, slowly getting more sloppy.

“you’re mine okay princess? all mine.” he whispers into my mouth

“all yours” i repeat, choked out from his tight grip on my throat

he continues to thrust messily before stopping

“turn over” he echos

i flip over and lay on my stomach while arching my ass up

he slaps my ass, “so fucking sexy”

matt hands me back the vibrator so i can hold it against my own clit before sliding back into my drenched hole

“fuck you just get hotter and hotter” he says as i throw my ass back on him while the thrusts into me

the room filled with nothing more than echos of clapping sounds and moaning

matt starts pulling my hair, leaving me no choice but to tilt my head up

“look at how you sound under me. you’re so perfect for me baby, it’s like you were made for my cock” he says through gritted teeth

matthew doesn’t stop the slamming into me, making it so hard to speak. but i did find my words when i heard the front door open indicating that my roommate was back home

“ma- matt.. my room- roommate is ba- back. we need to be qu- quiet” i try to make out into a sentence

matt bends down into my back and aggressively holds my mouth as he continues to slowly thrust deep into me

i close my eyes and shudder at the stimulation that overtakes my g spit and clit

“y/n? are you ready for the party yet?” my roommate yells from the kitchen

i can’t even bother trying to function out a response to her because i knew it would give away the scene behind my room door right now

it also didn’t help that matt was starting to whisper in my ear about how slutty and nasty i am

i went fuzzy over all the stimulation, i wouldn’t even be able to conjure up a sentence if i wanted too

i just hope she doesn’t walk in here because lord knows how i would be able to explain this to her later.

matt starts whispering in my ear about how good i feel and how bad he wants to cum

my pussy starts to tighten at the incoming orgasm that we’re about to share

“baby you’re clenching around me so tight.. i’m gonna-“

the door swings open, “y/-“ she stops as she realizes the scene in front of her

i clench around matt’s cock and let orgasm out as he continues to thrust and meet my orgasm halfway

she looks horrified, i feel terrible

“fuck. i’m sorry” she says before quickly walking back out

i can’t even focus on what just happened, i continue to fuck back into matt’s cock and ride out my high as he does the same

after a few seconds of deep breaths and calming down, i fully realize what had just happened

“matt oh my god. that’s so embarrassing” i snicker out of humiliation

he pulls out and flips me over so he can get a better look at me

“to be fair we should of locked the door” he laughs back

“I DIDNT KNOW SHE WOULD COME BACK THAT QUICK!!” i say while covering my face in embarrassment

“god it’s probably gonna be soo awkward now.” i continue

“orrr.. this could make you closer!” matt says

“you’re just saying shit” i laugh

“yeah! cause the world isn’t going to stop because your roommate saw me fucking you into oblivion” he continues

i stare at him in silence

“i mean.. i was putting shit DOWN. and now she knows how you really get”

“you’re actually no help.” i say with a fake frown trying to hold back my laugh

he smiles, “whatever. let’s finish getting ready so we can go to this party”

———————————————————————

a/n- thank you guys so much for 500 followers 🥹🥹 i literally started this account 11 days ago!! love you guys so much

@bernardsleftbootycheek <33

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part thirteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you and joel make your reunion official, and deal with the fallout.

a/n: brO I will fully admit I struggled a bit with this one - it’s mostly unedited but I’m still happy with where we’ve ended up. ANGST CITY BABY AS PER USUAL. and my askbox is always open if you’d like to scream about it 😇

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, explicit sex, unprotected p-in-v (with a slightly throwaway solution), light choking, very emotional sex (heavily inspired by a scene from outlander 👀), Joel’s head has been fully removed from his ass and Liv is making the most of it.

✨I do not have a taglist - follow @friskito-library for updates on future chapters/works!✨

You feel like you’re moving in slow-motion. Every moment feels drawn out, the emotion tripled, the touch more sensitive, the sound more clear. You’re committing every second to memory, refusing to let yourself think this is a dream.

“I can’t stay away from you.”

“So don’t.”

Don’t stay away from me, you want to say it a million times over. Don’t ever leave me, don’t let this world swallow me whole without you by my side. You know for a fact you don’t say the words out loud, but he seems to know them anyway. “Never leaving you, baby. Never in a million years.” The words are whispered into your skin, mapped out along the curve of your jaw.

You’re both slow, getting up off the floor. The peals of laughter taste like sugar on his lips, and your mouth chases his, hands reaching, searching, pulling at fabric and pushing at limbs. He hauls you up against him, lifting one thigh until it’s bent over his hip, presses his weight into you. Your neck arches and his lips glue to your pulse, sucking a bruise, tongue soothing the ache it leaves.

Take me to bed.

He does. With one more hungry kiss, he pulls away, planting his hands and pushing himself up, sliding his lips along your collar before he’s gone, shuffling backwards, getting to his feet. He holds both hands out to you, and you take them, groaning as he pulls you up, tugs on your arms, sends you sprawling into his chest.

Joel bands his arm around your shoulders, the other around your waist, seeks out your mouth again.

Never stop kissing me. Never stop holding me.

The riot of butterflies zipping through you feels foreign, almost unfamiliar, but when he pushes his tongue past your teeth, memories rise to the surface, bright spots amongst the dark. Kissing in the paint aisle with coffee on your breath, in the bed of his truck beneath the stars, in the corner of the movie theatre in Austin, in the dead of night when you slept in his bed and sought him out with sleep in the corners of your eyes.

It all feels like a lifetime ago. It is, in a way.

The hand at your waist moves beneath your sweater, the flat of his palm against the small of your back. The mere touch of his skin to yours makes your blood shiver with anticipation and you curl your fingers in the front of his flannel, dark red striped with black. He adjusts his grip on you, slides both hands up your back, presses them to your shoulder blades, the soft pressure making your arms lift, wrapping around his neck, lips still glued to his.

His hands slide back down, rounding the curve of your hips, squeezing at the meat of your ass. He walks you backwards, out of the kitchen, towards the bed, and you waste no time taking over, turning until you’re the one pushing him, your legs crooked between his, boots shuffling together across the wood floor. When the edge of the mattress hits the back of his knees, Joel flinches, your mouths breaking apart.

“Liv, are you—”

“Joel Miller, if you ask me if I’m sure, I swear to god I will smack you with my baseball bat.”

He has the audacity to grin, a sly thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “You stashed the bat.”

You scoff, almost exasperated. “Shut the fuck up.” You almost roll your eyes, but he grabs you again, both hands on your face, fingers curling around your ears, sliding into your hair. You slide your own beneath the hem of his shirt, seeking out hot skin, but you freeze when your fingertips skim something raised, a line across his hip, unfamiliar. “What…?”

You half expect him to pull away when you lift the fabric, leaning back enough to get a good look.

“Joel—”

“Outbreak day,” he says, the words hushed, the tone in his voice making your eyes dart back up to his. His hands have slid down to your neck, and you can feel the edge of his thumb rubbing along the hinge of your jaw, the movement soothing. You let your fingers follow the shape of the scar again. “Bullet just skimmed me.” He inhales sharply, leans forward until his forehead is pressed to yours, his eyes shutting tightly. “Same soldier that…” The words trail off, but you put two and two together, taking a deep breath.

Same soldier that shot Sarah.

You move your hands away, instead focusing your fingers on the buttons of his flannel. “I like this shirt,” you murmur, tilting your face in his grip, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Might have to steal this one.”

“You have one of my shirts already,” he replies, his thumb moving up the slope of your cheek. “Saw it in your closet.”

You lift a brow, silently exhaling, grateful for the change of subject. “You went through my stuff?”

He catches your bottom lip in a gentle kiss, his mouth along your jaw a moment later. “Didn’t go through your underwear, don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t be mad, if you had,” you reply, letting your lips curve into a wicked grin. He makes a grumbling noise, giving you a harder peck, and you nearly moan.

“You have my shirt.”

You nod. “I had another one, too, but I got caught in the bombings, and it got shredded.”

His brow goes hard, and your hands move to his belt, tugging at the buckle, pulling it through the loops, dropping it to the floor. The movement makes his face soften slightly, and he grumbles again, eyes screwed shut. “Don’t like the idea of you, out there, all alone, fighting for your fuckin’ life.”

“Didn’t have a choice,” you tell him, working the button of his jeans neck, letting your fingers graze the skin above the band of his boxers, through the happy trail of hair that leads beneath the elastic. “I had to get to you.”

“Were you hurt?” he asks, his voice a low rasp, and you nod, the tip of your nose dragged along his. “Show me.”

You pull back slightly, reluctantly letting go of his waist, crossing your arms and yanking your sweater over your head. Joel inhales sharply, dropping his hands from your face. He grabs your wrist first, taking in the jagged scar that runs the top of your forearm. “I was holed up in a bookstore when they started bombing,” you tell him, recalling as he lets his fingers skim your skin. It makes you shiver. “Lucky a damn shelf didn’t fall on my head.”

“I remember…” he starts, lifting your arm until your hand rests on his shoulder. He turns his head, leans his cheek against your wrist. “When I called that first night, you said that Dean…that he scratched you, or…?”

You nod, turning your scarred shoulder towards him. “That’s right. You told me to patch myself up.”

His fingers graze over the scar, following the lines in your skin. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair, and your shoulder rolls back and he grips your hips again, thumbs rubbing slow circles. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says, his voice low, forehead leaning into yours. “I’m sorry I was an ass, I’m sorry I took so long, I’m sorry I—”

“Joel—”

“I’m never leaving you again, you hear me?” You’ve got both hands in his hair now, and the shine in his eyes makes tears crawl up your throat. “I won’t ever lo—”

“Joel.”

“I should have been here,” he says, his voice thick, and a tear slips down your cheek, hot as anything. “I should have protected you, I should have told you to stay in Austin, I never should have let you go.”

You tighten your grip on his hair, pushing yourself further into his grasp. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters, you understand?” When he doesn’t respond, you tug on his hair, forcing his eyes to yours. “You’re here now. We both are.”

The next kiss he offers destroys you. It’s like he’s devouring you, drinking the air from your lungs, tasting every inch of your mouth, pulling you back to the thrill and pleasure and love you felt in Texas so many years ago. There’s nothing slow about his movements now, hands roving your body, careful around your ribs, but mapping you out, relearning the curve of you. There are other scars on you, tiny marks collected outside the wall, too-close run-ins and that one time you fucking tripped and fell on your knife, but he doesn’t ask about those, too preoccupied with your mouth.

After a while, he sinks down, sits at the edge of the mattress. He spreads his knees wide, brings you between them, undoing your jeans with ease, pushing them down your legs. He leaves a hot trail of kisses along your waist, hooks his fingers in the elastic of your underwear, pulling them down too. Joel’s head dips lower, one hand pushing your legs apart, and you gasp when he licks at you, nose buried right between your thighs.

You gasp, tugging on his hair, and he pulls back, eyes on your face, lips shiny already. You’re quivering, having him this close again. “D’you have any idea how much I’ve missed the taste of you, baby?”

The words alone are enough to make your knees go weak, and you open your mouth to say something, but only a moan comes out, his head lowered to you once more, both hands an iron grip on your hips. It’s ecstasy, the feeling of his mouth, the press of his fingers, the softness of his hair. It makes your toes curl, makes stars shoot across the backs of your eyelids.

“Joel.”

He moans into you, and you pull hard on his hair, gasping for air when he detaches from the nerves between your legs. You feel staticky, your fingers and toes tingling as you tilt his head back, bend down to kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue. You go to lift your leg, to plant your knee on the bed beside him, but Joel stops you, getting to his feet.

“What—”

His fingers fly down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning as he goes. Your chest is heaving, eyes darting all over him as more bare skin is revealed. You can see the scar just above his hip now, raised and shiny. He has other scars, just like you, tiny marks and wounds, proof of life, proof he survived. You can’t help but reach for him, running your palms up his chest as he shrugs out of his shirt.

Joel kisses your forehead as he drapes the shirt around you, helping you slide your arms through the sleeves. Faintly, you hear the soft thud as his jeans hit the floor, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as he sinks back down onto the mattress. He curls his other hand around your leg, tugging at your knee until it’s fit against his hip. You adjust your weight, lifting the other leg to match, and settle into his lap, feeling the light scratch of the hair on his legs against your thighs, the prod of his covered cock against your core.

“D’you need me to—” he starts, but you shake your head, cutting him off, your faces so close together that your nose brushes his again.

“I just wanna feel you.”

Joel watches, eyes heavy-lidded and pupils wide, as you grab his wrist, lifting his hand to your mouth, laving your tongue along his fingers, tasting the salt on his skin. His gaze is glued to your lips, your tongue, and when you slide his index and middle into your mouth, your eyes lock to his, and his grip on your waist grows impossibly tighter.

You lean up slightly, lifting your weight off him as he pulls his hand from your face, slipping between you, freeing himself. He fits his face into the curve of your neck, sucks at the thin skin over your pulse, and you let your eyes slip shut. Your fingers curl in the cuffs of his shirt, the fabric worn soft between your knuckles. You’re surrounded by the scent of him, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of him.

His hand drags slowly against you, making your back arch when you sink back down, feeling the hot press of him inside you, scrabbling at his shoulders as his mouth moves up your throat, seeks out your lips once more. You’re gasping as you seat yourself fully, his cock filling you to the hilt, and Joel kisses the noises right out of you, moving both hands to your hips, guiding you along him.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, teeth nipping at your lips, moving along your jaw. You’re a mess, the feeling of him, of being full of him, after so long is so achingly familiar that all you can do is hold onto him, pushing both hands through his hair, keeping him as close as you can. It’s a stretch, there’s no denying that, just riding the line between pleasure and pain, but you don’t care, letting your knees slide wider on the bed, letting yourself sink deeper into his embrace, letting him push agains tall those devastating places buried inside you.

It makes you feel alive.

“Missed you,” he breathes into your skin, hips jolting up into yours with every drag of his cock. “Every fuckin’ day, every fuckin’ minute. Never stopped thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“Joel—” you croak out, that coil in your belly snapping tight when you feel his teeth scrape beneath your jaw, one hand dipping back to grab a handful of your ass. But every movement is slow still, a drawn-out instant that blurs the line between past and present.

It sparks something in you, something that’s been waiting to be unleashed for God only knows how long. A near toxic mix of anger and longing and pain and love, emotion spilling out of you unbidden. You shove at his shoulders, catching him off guard as he falls back. He reaches for you, and you bat his hands away, planing both of yours and chest and grinding down on him.

“You were an ass to me, Joel Miller,” you grit, pleasure setting your nerves alight. You can feel your orgasm barrelling towards you, but you hold back, bearing down on him, revelling in the sound he makes when you clench tight.

“I know,” he starts to say, his voice gravelly. “I’m sorry, baby, I—”

You move one hand from is chest to his jaw, your fingers spread along the side of his neck. You lean forward just enough that his eyes meet yours, and everything in you buzzes at the lust-filled look in his eye, his parted lips, his heavy breaths. Something possessive and feral makes your heart racket.

“You ever treat me the way you have these last few weeks again, and I swear to God—” the words are punctuated by deep rolls of your hips, long drags that make his chest stutter, “—I will make you regret the day you met me, you understand?”

“Liv, ba—” he starts, and you squeeze your fingers either side of his throat.

“Do you understand?” you repeat, and lift yourself off him, until just the tip of him is notched inside you.

“Yes,” he breathes, and you slam back down, mouth seeking his, drinking down the groans the spill out of him. Everything in you is tingling, white sparks behind your eyes, your blood singing in your veins. He grabs hold of your wrists and leans up, chest pressed to yours, a grunt on his lips and a gleam in his eye.

The world tilts, and your back hits the mattress, Joel still pressed deep within you. He moves up the bed with you, covers your body with his own. He cages his arms around your head, pushes the hair back from your face. You drag your nails up his back, dig them into his shoulder blades slightly. You want to mark him, you want to shout his name until your lungs give out, you want to—

“God, I fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs to you, his mouth an inch from your ear, hot breath fanning your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “My brave girl.” He rolls his hips, and your back arches off the mattress. “Feel so fuckin’ good.”

You croak his name, tossing your head back as the familiar feeling creeps up your spine, the world being yanked out from under you, everything going impossibly tight and good and—

He grits out your name as you cum, your nails dug so hard into his back you’re sure you’ll draw blood, but Joel doesn’t seem to care, continuing the slow drag of his cock against your every nerve, his face fit into the curve of your neck, peppered kisses at your pulse. It’s just as intense as you remember, with him, that feeling of weightlessness seeping into you, everything relaxing as he keeps moving, seeking out his own pleasure, and you can’t help but clench, spurring him on.

At the last second, he pulls out, making you both groan, cumming hot across your bare stomach, just missing the fabric of his shirt. He slumps sideways, falling onto the mattress beside you, keeping his arm across your body, fingers wrapped around your bicep.

“M’sorry,” he grumbles, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Wasn’t sure where to…”

You just laugh, moving his shirt out of the way. “It’s fine, Joel,” you murmur, reaching out and stroking your knuckles along his cheek. “We’re good, just for future reference.”

His brow raises slowly. “Hmm?”

“McCoy has a few…habits,” you tell him, sighing when his hand moves up to your face, cups your jaw. “I smuggle his shit in from the outside, and he gets me the pill from the pharmacy in exchange.”

“Why would you—” he starts to ask, but cuts himself off, eyes slipping shut. “Right. Cowan. Of all the guys you could have…”

You slide your head closer to his, until you can kiss him softly. “It doesn’t matter now. None of it.”

Joel grunts, pulling you even closer still, a hotter kiss pressed to your mouth, tongue tasting yours. “You were the only thing that ever did.”

“You’re a romantic, Joel Miller,” you grin, rubbing your nose against his.

He grins back. “Only for women who put their hands around my throat and threaten me like you did.”

You chew your lips, heat sparking between your legs again already, turned to flame when he releases your jaw and lets his hand rest on your thigh instead, fingers curling along your sensitive skin. “Oh, you enjoyed that, did you?”

“Fuckin’ right, I did,” he grumbles, and then his mouth finds yours once more.

You’re up just before the sun is.

You don’t bother with the clock, turning back over, burrowing deeper into Joel’s side, the blankets covering you both. He’s sprawled on his back, one arm beneath your head, the other resting on his stomach. It makes you smile; some things never change, and you’re grateful as hell for that.

The pair of you never left the bed last night. After you cleaned yourself up from the first round, it had very quickly devolved into a second and third. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you couldn’t keep yours off of him, touching and exploring each other until the last dregs of sunlight disappeared. He made you feel things you’d thought were long forgotten, mere memories of what you’d shared in Austin, renewed completely, leaving you reeling.

You lit candles along the windowsill, played music low on the radio — a copy of the same Led Zeppelin cassette you’d once played in Joel’s truck — and polished off the bottle of whiskey. And you talked.

For hours.

You talked until your voice grew hoarse, and Joel’s just got more and more gravelly with every story he told. There were things he still wouldn’t tell you, things he said he was ashamed of, but you understood. There were some stories that required more than just whiskey, ones you weren’t ready to share. You weren’t the same people anymore, but a combination of new and old, survivors, people who had done what they had to to make it out alive. Make it back to each other.

Joel refused to let you out of his grip, and you were more than happy to oblige, content to stay perched in his lap as you spoke. His hands wandered, along your ribs, over your stomach, brushing the hair back from your face. You returned his touch in kind, palms riding the curves of his chest, the width of his shoulders. Your attention veered off more than once, distracted by his fingers sliding between your legs, lips finding yours, rasped words in your ear.

God, I missed you. Love you. Need you.

And now, waking up, your body not so shockingly aches for more. You cuddle closer, humming happily when his arm curls around your shoulders, head turning and his lips moving across your forehead. You sling your arm across his stomach, rubbing your thumb across his hipbone. His legs flex beneath the sheets, tangling with your own, dragging you closer.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his eyes still shut, removing his hand up and down your arm.

“Hi,” you whisper back, lifting your jaw to kiss at his scruffy one. “It’s early, go back to sleep.”

Joel groans, burying his face in your pillow, his head ducked beneath yours lips near your ear. “W’bout you?” He squeezes your shoulder. “Stay.”

You have time to make up for, questions that still need answering, decisions to make. You want to assume that he’ll stay with you here, in your apartment, that the bed that has only been your own thus far would now belong to you both. Waking up like this, beside him — a luxury you’d never allowed yourself to grow used to back in Texas — nearly makes up for it all.

But with the threads of sunlight just starting to spark the sky, Joel beside you, the phantom feeling of him all over you, the heaviness of all the whiskey looming in the back of your throat, the guilt comes too, the unfairness of your situation, to one specific person.

Nick.

Joel had asked only once. Only one question, only one thing he was curious to know. And the answer had come so quickly, fallen out of you so fast that the guilt had started there, only to be pushed away by Joel, not by his words or his reassurances, but just his presence.

Did you love him? Do…do you love him?

No.

The answer was easy. And, you hadn’t lied to Nick. You’d never said the words, no matter how many times he’d had that gleam in his eye, when you disappeared out the fire escape, or ran into him out on patrols. It would have been a lie, plain and simple, and you refused to be that person. You had wanted to give him more, had felt like it was something deserved, even if it wasn’t something you were able to give. After five long years, you’d started to resign yourself, half convinced that no one was ever going to answer your radio messages, or walk through those gates, back into your life.

But then…Joel did.

You have to end it, with Nick. Officially. There’s no getting around it, and part of you wonders if he’ll see it coming, if he’s expecting it. In the weeks that followed him bringing Tess and Joel through officially, your stint in lockup, the beating from Angie, you’d made yourself scarce. The weight of Joel’s indifference was one thing, and the last thing you wanted was Nick’s sympathy. It felt false, no matter how you looked at it.

It was a good few days before you saw him on the streets again, and he’d balked at the bruise on your face, the slight stagger to your walk. You gave him the short version, that you’d definitely pissed Angie off at the pharmacy, and maybe you had the beating coming. He’d given you a once over, took your chin in his hand and inspected your face, told to come see him later that night.

“I shouldn’t,” you said, trying not to sound too dismissive, shaking your head in his grip. “I’m staying at Deanna’s, promised the kids a bedtime story.”

“Come after.”

“And get caught out after curfew?” you’d shot back, stepping out of his reach. “The last thing I need is another stint in lockup, don’t you think?”

“Liv—”

“I’ll see you around, Cowan.”

You’d turned on your heel, stalking off in the same direction you’d came, even though it wasn’t where you were going. You didn’t miss the hurt look on his face, the use of his surname rather than his first clearly not what we was expecting, but your face and ribs throbbed with every step you took, and you found you didn’t feel so bad about it.

He’d come by Deanna’s once while you were there. A few words were exchanged, you’d kept yourself busy with a game of Candyland with Emily, and Deanna and Nick talked in the kitchen, their voices hushed. He ruffled Henry’s hair and pinched Emily’s cheek before he left, and ducked down to leave a kiss at your temple. It made your cheeks flare with heat, and you’d followed him out of Deanna’s apartment, caught him in the hallway.

“I never thanked you properly. For getting Joel and Tess through.”

He stopped, dead in his tracks, for just a moment. Turned his head enough that you could just see his face, his hard expression. “Don’t mention it.”

That was the last time you saw him.

You’re reluctant, sliding out of Joel’s grip, out of bed. He makes a noise that sounds nearly like a whine when you disentangle yourself fully, and you lean over him, pressing messy kisses along his cheeks, over his lips, his jaw. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be back.”

“Where y’going?” he grumbles out, chasing your mouth. “Come back t’bed, baby.”

“There’s something I gotta go,” you tell him, kissing his cheek, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I’ll come back and make you breakfast, hmm?”

“Mmm,” is the only response you get, and he’s asleep again, buried in your pillow.

You can’t bring yourself to shed his shirt, so you do up the buttons instead, find a pair of black jeans that are still wearable, shove your feet in your boots. Pulling on your coat, you grab your keys, and pause, turning and glancing back towards the bed. Joel’s still asleep, flat on his back, lips parted, soft snores filling the apartment, and despite the guilt rioting in your stomach, you smile. He looks peaceful, for the first time since you saw him again. He looks like your bed is where he belongs.

You yank your eyes away, slipping out the door as quietly as possible and locking it behind you.

It’s just past the morning curfew, when you step out of the building. The streets are mostly empty, soldiers coming off evening patrols, the day shift switching out. You take the quick path to the barracks, sliding up the fire escape, knocking softly at the window.

Nick’s awake, pulling on his gear, and his eyes meet yours through the glass as he walks towards the window, sliding it open. “What are you doing here so early?” There’s a bit of curiosity in his tone, but otherwise, his voice is flat, unflinching.

“I need to talk to you.”

He steps out of the way, and you clamber through the window, ignoring the ache in your legs, no doubt a consequence of your evening escapades. If he sees you flinch, he says nothing.

Nick goes and perches at the edge of his bed, and you stay standing, near the window. A quick escape. “What’s going on, Liv?”

“I can’t…we, I’m not…” You sigh heavily. Might as well just fucking say it. “I slept with Joel.”

He barks a laugh, and you nearly flinch. “Am I supposed to be surprised?” He leans forward, clasps his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. “When?”

“Last night. I’m sorry, for whatever that’s worth. I don’t expect you to keep…treating me, the way you have. I don’t expect any more favours, or—”

“What would you have done,” he starts, getting to his feet, cutting you off, “if I had said no? If I had refused to bring them through?”

Your back straightens at his harsh tone. You’re not expecting forgiveness, or for this to be an easy conversation, but you already don’t like where it’s going. “I would have found another way. I would have made another deal, or let Angie beat me to death, if that’s what it took. I would have done anything.”

Nick just stares at you, for a moment, those strange eyes of him going dark, nearly black, darker than you’ve seen them in a long time. “You really love him that much.” It’s a statement, not a question. “I never stood a goddamn chance, did I? Could you ever have loved me, like that?”

You shake your head. “I can’t love anyone the way I love him.”

“I never should have fucking…” He trails off, rubs a hand over his face. “Did you ever even give a shit, really?”

“Nick, don’t—”

“Well, now’s the time for honesty, Liv! Answer the fucking question.”

“Of course I give a shit!” you throw back, taking a step forward. He stares down his nose at you. “Of course I care about you, Nick, but this is not…It’s him. I’m sorry, I truly am, but it’s always been him. It’s always gonna be him.”

“Get out.”

“Nick—”

“Get the fuck out. And do me a goddamn favour and keep your smuggling bullshit away from me. I know I can’t stop you, and there’s no point in me reporting you, you’d just rat me out.”

You balk, faltering back a step. “You really think that little of me? You honestly think I’d rat you out after this?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I do.”

You inhale sharply. You knew it would be bad, but you didn’t think this bad. “I never meant for it to happen like this. I never thought he would show up. Don’t you get that?”

“Just…get out of here, Liv. Don’t come back.”

There are tears in your eyes, the whole way back. You take the long route back to your apartment, keeping to the streets, pushing your way through people. Every word Nick had said rings in your ears, your throat thick and your cheeks stinging. You chew the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears from sliding down your face.

When you get through the door, your eyes go straight to the bed, and your heart leaps into the throat when you see it’s empty, the blankets rumpled. A single tears slips out then, and you wipe it away with the sleeve of your coat.

“Liv?” Joel’s voice calls, and your head snaps towards the kitchen, seeing him standing there at the counter, no shirt, jeans still unbuckled. “Baby?”

You throw yourself at him, headlong into his arms, and he catches you, holding you against his bare chest. The tears come freely then, a whirlwind of emotions, and Joel just holds you through it, fitting his face into the crook of your neck, rocking you slightly, one hand buried in your hair.

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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jemimahaste · 1 year ago

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The reunion scene

You get so used to not receiving or being happy with the crumbs of representation that you get in media that you forget HOW MUCH is simply available if people in the studios were willing to sit down and listen.

We all assumed the reunion would maybe have a fight, maybe have a hug, a kiss. In a flight of fancy, I thought Stede would appear by the needle drop Somebody to Love. But that's all I assumed it would ever be- a flight of fancy, a nonsensical hope, a silly little daydream that one queer person had to express such an emotional scene.

Never in a million fucking years could I have anticipated what we got. The purgatory epiphany, the pleading from Stede, MERSTEDE, KATE FUCKING BUSH?!?

A scene that used the medium to its fullest to give the full weight of the situation that wasn't just expressed through the tired cliché we've all seen in countless romances of halfhearted apologies (in the rain if they're feeling spicy enough).

There's something to be said on how queerness comes in the form of otherness, how they used the goldfish symbology, I heard someone excitedly call back to Hans Christian Anderson's Little Mermaid, how it reflects Stede's imaginings when he first met Ed, how sometimes words aren't enough and you throw out the most balls to the wall visual metaphor you can, how fanfiction AUs weren't something to be scoffed at.

I thought I hated romance stories for the longest time but I bawled my eyes out at that scene. I watched it 20 times. I've been listening to the song on my way into work on loop, playing the scene back again and again in my head. Turns out I ADORE romance stories, I'm just fucking starved for something with meaning.

#our flag means death #gentlebeard #merstede

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the5n00k · 8 months ago

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M*A*S*H and the power of pure unadulterated sorrow

(this series is marketed primarily as a comedy! :D what a scam! /hj)

⚠️long post⚠️

I want to point out one of my favorite aspects of this series which is how different it presents its drama compared to other shows marketed as dramas that I've seen. ESPECIALLY modern film

The last movie I can remember portraying this sheer level of raw grief and despair was Hereditary. Such a powerful film about how grief can tear a family apart, it's honestly uncomfortable to sit through because of how well written and acted some of the scenes with the family are. And that's the point; tragedy isn't pretty. So many times you will see characters die on screen and the actors around them reacting to it with a single tear or burying their face into their stone cold main protagonist's shoulder. I have been craving that Hereditary level of despair from something for a long time now. That raw emotional breakdown that completely shatters the mask of a usually well put together facade.

Then my friends recommended M*A*S*H to me.

Yes you can make all the "crying breakfast friends" jokes you want about how often I latch onto a heart wrenching emotional moment in a show but I can't help it when it's so well executed. I can see a million silly Disney sidekicks die and feel nothing but this show has made me cry even on rewatch. And that is RARE for me, usually it's a one and done thing but this show still manages to tear me to pieces.

Not saying the show doesn't have any fun in it, of course it does, that's how the emotional moments hit harder. If you never saw the characters at their highest highs, seeing them at their lowest would just become numbing and unengaging.

Spoilers ahead obviously, I'm going to be talking about a lot of really important character moments throughout the show please if you are at all interested watch the show and come back. It's 11 seasons but it's well worth your time

Something that has always been powerful to me has been grown men crying. Perhaps it's because I never really had a good emotional connection with any men in my life and always saw them as stronger (emotionally) than someone who is erratically emotional like myself. Especially during the timeframe this is set (the 50's) and shot in (70's-80's) I was not anticipating the level of raw acting talent from the guys in this show. Especially once you get past season 4 and shit really starts hitting the fan

To see these grown men who take so much pride in their important positions as doctors and men and who they are just break down weeping like a scared child. It never ceased to break something in me. I cried the hardest at the amnesiac soldier who lost his brother (FANTASTIC scene it should have won 60 awards) but the two characters that have always stood out to me with this particular subject have been Hawkeye and BJ

Clearly if you've watched the entire show you understand what I'm talking about and obviously the other cast members have their moments (Winchester my beloved one day I will put you under a microscope and pick you apart) but for this subject, I'm going to use the two of them as examples because I consider these moments the most prominent to me personally

I'll start with BJ because there's a lot to unpack with him and simultaneously not a lot at the same time. Because he's so closed off and disconnected from most things happening all the time, choosing to opt out of anything whenever he can unless provoked, characters don't really know that much about him. As an audience, you're forced to pick apart his little mannerisms and priorities to see where his head's at. Some people might not like that but frankly I love it. He's a simple character on the surface but underneath, he's a terrified father and husband trying to keep his head down long enough to snap out of the nightmare that is war and wake up at home. I relate to him in that way, just trying to stay in my own corner and occupy myself until I have to wake up and do it all over again. Coping with the monotony is slowly driving him crazy

Then in Period of Adjustment, he gets a letter from his wife about how she and their daughter Erin saw Radar at the airport when he got sent home. And his thin thread of stability finally snaps. He's pissy for the entire day and doesn't want to tell anyone why, he'd rather just go through the motions and repress it just like everything else. But it keeps outwardly affecting everything around him whether he likes it or not. Then, at his lowest, he physically assaults his best friend in their own tent and destroys their only lifeline, the still they use to (poorly) make gin, and runs out.

After getting so intoxicated he can't stand up, Hawkeye finally finds him again and laughs that he's wearing a helmet to see him, still trying to make light of how much he's suffering. He tells him he's sorry for punching him and Hawkeye sits down with him. He finally is completely and truly honest for probably the only time in the entire series. He is completely vulnerable and open and tells him what's been bothering him. His infant daughter mistakenly called Radar her dad. The first person she ever called dad wasn't him. And he breaks down. He barely got to see her when she was born before he got drafted, he missed so many milestones of parenthood with her already and she ends up calling someone else dad. BJ tells Hawkeye he is furious at Radar and knows it's not his fault but he's still jealous. He even mentions how he's envious of Trapper, Hawkeye's old bunkmate from before he got there, which is still a huge sore point for him because of how abrupt his departure was. But he doesn't reprimand him for speaking badly about two people he'd considered close friends. He holds him closer and lets him cry. This isn't a single tear cry, this is a full vulnerability twisted face cry of pure pain. He can't say anything to ease the pain either, nothing he could say right now could help his friend. He just has to let him work through it.

They rebuilt the still together but BJ still remains broken. This is sort of touched on in Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen when he tries to get sent home before Erin's second birthday and misses it. It's not held on but you can obviously tell that he's still barely holding onto mental stability whenever he brings up his family. If you go into this series thinking every conflict has a resolution or closure of some kind I have bad news for you lol it's safe to assume when he went home, there was a rough adjustment period reclaiming his place in the house since Peg took on so much responsibility by herself but we don't really know what happened after everyone went home.

My next example is from Bless You, Hawkeye and I always rag on this episode with my friends but the scene between him and Sidney physically shook me. Everybody probably talks about That One Scene with Hawkeye and Sidney from GFA so I'll refrain from using it as an example here, I think this one is more appropriate for the point I'm trying to make anyways.

Hawkeye has never been mature. At all. His entire character is built on being obnoxious and causing trouble. Unlike BJ, he will share nearly anything about him when asked. Except when it's serious.

In comes everyone's favorite coping mechanism, ✨ unconscious repression! ✨

Again, a part of his character that got used again in GFA, whenever something upsets him in a way he can't manage, he buries it. He rewrites the memory into something happy or positive. So when a wounded soldier soaked in dirty water smelling of mold and musty clothing triggered a psychosomatic response, nobody knew why.

Processing scenes like this is something I remember so vividly from my first watch. Seeing all the pieces fall into place until that sinking feeling fills you is something this show is so good at.

Hawkeye starts talking to Sidney about something from his childhood; being out on a lake with his cousin Billy when he was seven. He claims Billy saved his life by pulling him out of the water but the more he talks, the more his story changes. It gets to a point where even he realizes he wasn't saved. He was pushed. Billy had to have been around 13 at the time, old enough to know how mean pulling something like that is. The way he admits it is when the gravity really sank in for me. His voice breaks, he starts loudly and violently sobbing like a scared child, he's probably been holding in this breakdown for 20ish years. In any other show, I could see them trying to play this for laughs. Oh Hawkeye, you shouldn't be so upset by a silly prank from when you were a kid! Look at this grown man break down! What a baby! But they don't treat it like that. It's treated completely seriously, it's allowed to play out and he slowly works through grief for someone he idolized in his childhood, anger, and acknowledgement. It was a permanent scar that wasn't allowed to heal.

This wasn't the first time in the series Hawkeye has cried but it was the first time he truly let it out. Every other time he knew he'd have to pick himself up, dust himself off, and keep going. I'm not certain if he properly processed anything he went through in Korea because he kept (pardon my language here) drowning himself in alcohol and burying himself in work and antics. So his eventual breakdown just. Getting it all out in one gutteral, primal cry, borderline screaming was cathartic for both him as a character and myself personally. Very rarely do I ever get a moment to have an emotional release like this so I also bury myself further into my job and hobbies until I can't feel what's bothering me anymore. His man's father better have booked him therapy when he got home because I know for damn sure this jackass won't do it himself

Overall, I'll say it again, the actors in this show are insane. None of the emotions felt cheap and the way the characters are written feels accurate to how most people approached the horrors of war and the mental health crises that followed. I'm so happy this show exists. I'm a little disappointed in myself that it's taken me this long to give it a chance but I love it nonetheless. I'll make a post about the characters specifically sometime like I said I would, I just want to make sure I do everyone justice and I'm not just repeating what everyone already knows. I want to add to this wonderful community that I'm happy to see is still active on this app/site and I hope you all enjoy my ramblings lmao there is more where this came from

#mash 4077 #mash #character analysis #technically even though im going to do an actual dedication analysis for both of them #idk how else to tag this #i just like watching people cry i think /hj?#im ill about this show #this is probably really dumb but im gonna post it anyway

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poomphuripan · 4 months ago

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Do you have any show recommendations for this weekend? Or anything catches your attention for the next couple months? My stand in has been raising the bar so much, none of the currently aired shows are worth watching T.T 4 minutes seems alright but they have like 8 episodes only, I’m so afraid to get hopes up

hi nonnie (❁´◡`❁)

fridays are so dull without my stand-in i know, also saturday too when wandee gooday ends this week (┬┬﹏┬┬). but there are some very good series about to start soon and currently airing... perhaps you can give these a try?

Century Of Love - magical realism, action, romance, comedy

Synopsis: San is faithfully devoted to his love. He has spent his life waiting for his lost beloved, Wat, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But when the darkness of the night looms, he will be forcibly afflicted by the power of the five shades stone. If he fails to find Wat within this century's time window, he will inevitably succumb to a tragic death for eternity. The final year of the century is about to end before the stone's power turns into his eternal curse. He meets Vee, a frivolous, charming adonis who seems connected to his life. San is appalled by Vee at first sight, but this unrelated boy is actually his beloved Wat, whom he has been anticipating for almost a century.

my thoughts so far: it's really fun, quite fast paced (understandably since there's only 10 eps and there are 2 eps airing each week), the chemistry is fantastic, as expected of daouoffroad.

Meet You At The Blossom - wuxia, romance

Synopsis: Jin Xiao Bao, the son of the wealthiest man in the Jiangnan region, falls in love with icy, white-clothed beauty Huai En due to an unexpected meeting. This young woman he sees as his future wife, however, seems to have aroused a lot of enmity. When he comes to the rescue of an injured Huai En, who's tainted by an aphrodisiac, the true identity of this beauty is revealed.

my thoughts so far: i haven't caught up with the latest ep but first two eps have been fun. it's adapted from the debut novel of shui qian cheng who wrote professional body double aka my stand in novel so you can see similar traits of her typical scum ml in huai en. the actors are probably rookie so the acting leaves much to be desired and a lot of room for improvement in that aspect but supporting it anyway since it's the first uncensored wuxia bl freed from censorship limbo.

Currently these two are the only "pure" BL series i'm watching because most of the time i just end up rewatching series i already know and love. I'm always on a casual Nadao/GDH rewatch, so if you haven't seen these before, I highly recommend them, not QL but they're fun nonetheless.

Great Men Academy - magical realism, unicorn hijinks, body transformation, queer

Synopsis: Love has always been a fan of the popular guy Vier of the famous Great Men Academy but has never had the chance to meet him. One day, she sees the mystical unicorn rumored to fulfill wishes and wished for her love for Vier to get a chance. Unfortunately the unicorn interpreted her wishes in a different way and Love wakes up to find herself… as a guy?

my thoughts: i have watched this series more than 20 times in full, and lost count of the times i've casually rewatched certain eps. it's just super wholesome and TANGMO BEST BOY! watch this for tangmo best boi, you shall not be let down by scene stealer tangmo and his 5 minutes screentime.

Bad Genius The Series - academic rivalry, heist, thriller, drama

Synopsis: Lin, a genius high school student who makes money by cheating tests, receives a new task that leads her to set foot on Sydney, Australia. In order to complete the millions-Baht task, Lin and her classmates have to finish the international STIC (SAT) exam and deliver the answers back to her friends in Thailand before the exam takes place once again in her home country.

my thoughts: if someone asked me what is the most perfect thai series i've ever watched, i would choose this series in a heart beat. bad genius the series is one of the rarest case where i genuinely believe a series remake has outdone its film predecessor (worth noting that one same studio produced both). it's got the perfect amount of angst and tension and cinematography style that i adore. if you want a breath of fresh air, i HIGHLY recommend this series for a change from all the other ql series airing.

ps: if you can't find official links to watch the two series above, don't feel bad about watching them in unofficial/grey websites because the original platform they were on shut down 2 years ago ಥ_ಥ they're literally my hidden gems but i don't want to gatekeep them any longer

for upcoming series, i'm thinking of starting The Trainee and I Saw You In My Dream and 4 Minutes. But I usually try to take breaks in-between series I have huge hyperfixation on like I Feel You Linger In The Air or My Stand-In like right now and I just rewatch low stake series I already love like Lovely Writer or some series I mentioned above.

i'm really sorry if this isn't much help because you're talking to someone who rarely watch new series unless they get a random urge and motivation to sit through a 30+ eps lakorn just for one actor. but i hope you found a motivation to watch one of the series i recommended above if you've been thinking about any of them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

#claire replies #my stand in #lovely writer #century of love #meet you at the blossom #bad genius the series #great men academy #my stand in the series

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campbyler · 1 year ago

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the perks of being european: u can start ur day with beautiful new 30k chapter 🙏🏻♥️

i admire everyone who read this chapter in less than an hour. u guys r insane. it took me like 2,5 hours to read it but i have to stop to scream into my pillow.

mike and will r so.. idek how to describe them. scared? they r not stupid cause in both povs we see that they realize that their dynamic has shifted.

like will observed in the vending machine scene their kisses became more soft? romantic? u can tell that they r not just attracted to each other physically they really like to spend time together.

the stargazing, the hand holding, the longing stares omg. i get why mike wouldn't go further. even if those feelings aren’t new the circumstances r and it Is scary considering their complicated history. (unrelated but i hope history by 1d is on the master playlist 😭)

we actually got to see that mike feels the same when he got upset that will said the “wither away” thing. that so like their pre isolation cabin selfs - insults each other just to control the urge to start making out 😭 glad that will didn’t control it this time and i can bark cause of kissing shoulder scene.

poor will almost had a stroke cause of mikes edward cullenofication And his best friend only made it worst with her deductive skills. but i think max dropped this conversation too fast. i have a feeling that it will come out after some time. it must be so scary for will to open up like that especially, if i remember correctly, nobody really knows what actually happened between he and mike. also “i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep u”.

i loved el and her dedication to all the good stuff she can eat. i bet she’d murder that one poor little camper who would take the last pancake 💔

and i Really liked that little dad son bonding moment. van camping doesn’t sound that bad for me will!!! at least u don’t have to sleep outside 😭

“twenty stitches in a hospital room” and it actually two band-aids in the middle of the forest. at least we know that poor mike won’t get a gangrene 💔

will feeling better when he’s around mike even if he does such an unpleasant thing as wilderness week. what if i die?

“Really – now that the beast has been vanquished, what’s the worst that could happen?” the phrase after which nothing never goes wrong 🙏🏻 im not scared at all 🙏🏻

i also have a question about chapter playlist. how do u guys choose song for each chapter? does the person who write this chapter does all by themself? or u brainstorm the best songs from the master playlist altogether? have u ever added the song to the chapter playlist even if it wasn’t in the main one?

thank u for the chapter suni! i hope ur feeling better and im giving u ur favorite soup 🫂

sorry for such messy comment it turned out so long and i feel like i didn’t write the half of the things i thought about 😭

hi alya! sorry it took me one million years to answer this ask but it was so thoughtful and thorough that i wanted to wait until i had the time to do it justice with the response 🫡🫡

first, i am sooooo so glad you liked chapter 7 because it was insanely fun for me to write! really enjoyed writing it and their shifting dynamic and i’m super glad that came through! you’re so right in saying that neither of them is stupid enough to Not notice how things are changing between them, and they both are definitely coming to terms with the realization that they do enjoy each other’s company in a way that is more than just physical. i think for meeee one of the most fun things abt this chapter was writing the different ways they approached that realization, especially from will’s pov. the feelings definitely are not new for either of them, which i think is pretty obvious by this point in the fic, but both of them are used to turbulence and are anticipating that and don’t really know what to do without it! super glad you picked up on mike’s hesitation as well — i think people tend to characterize our mike as “all in” or a lot more open about his feelings than will is, which is true to an extent, but he has his limitations just as much as will does and maybe even more at times.

anyways all that to say that i’m really glad that the chapter came through the way i was intending! the other parts of it were so fun to write as well — the hopper and will moment, el and max, so on and so forth. re max: it definitely is very hard for will to say the things he’s feeling to her, and battling with not wanting to keep such a big secret from his best friend vs not wanting to betray the newfound trust between him and mike is absolutely something he has been struggling with. very excited to see how that plays out hehe ( <- knows exactly how it will play out)

as for your last question, we have a couple initial songs for every chapter that have been in the playlist doc for a while, usually the “main” song for that chapter, but it’s pretty much up to whoever is writing to choose the rest of the songs and move them around/add and remove as desired! we try to keep it about 5-6 songs per chapter to keep the playlist from getting monstrous (bar some very Long and Dense chapters that are getting more) but what we do is we assemble the chapter playlist as we write and then let the others know in case there is a song that someone thinks doesn’t fit or has a better suggestion for. we’ve absolutely added songs that aren’t in the master playlist before, especially ones we stumble across and realize would be perfect for a chapter.

so sorry for taking forever to answer this and then writing an absolute essay in this response 😭 thanks soooo much for the love alya we appreciate you sm 🫶🏽🫶🏽

#asks #ch07 #acswy spoilers

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respectthepetty · 2 years ago

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Another day, another ask, but this time, it's about what are some currently airing shows that you're watching and really enjoying and how would you describe what you like about them briefly?

For example, The Warp Effect: Wholesome and sex positive QL, with so much representation and topics brought up weekly. Nothing like what I was expecting - in the best way.

Happy (Belated) Valentine's Day @sliceduplife! I hope it was kind to you because my response is going to be just like me and my favorite characters - problematic and absolute basura!

To begin, I'm actually going to tell you what I'm rewatching instead of currently watching:

Great Men Academy - Much like 3 Will Be Free and The Warp Effect, Great Men Academy isn't a BL, but it doesn't stop it from being queer af. It has a unicorn that grants wishes, a magical lake that requires nudity to activate, a ghost, a school sanctioned Hunger Games, body swapping, and an Elite level moment:

If you don't get the Elite reference, know that this lead-paint-level-toxic hottie, Cruz, delivered the best line ever uttered in the series:

¡No soy gay! Ni bi. Ni tri. ¡Soy futbolista! (I'm not gay! Not bi. Not tri. I'm a footballer!) <- I say "¡Soy futbolista!" all of the time when people ask about my sexuality without clarification and leave them in their confusion.

*moving on to your actual ask*

The Warp Effect - I came for Joy, the cinematographer who also did KinnPorsche, and Jojo, the director who does everything else I love, but stayed to see all the ways people could come... to an understanding about their sexuality. Also, it's very queer.

My Beautiful Man 2 - I do not condone stalking, but when it comes to my idol and his devoted worshiper, I'm trying to invent new ways of stalking, so Hira can always be within a 100 yards of Kiyoi. They should be more red flags than California during fire season, yet they are wholesome and adorable.

Well...in a very kinky way, kinda like these two wild kids from Secretary

Never Let Me Go - It has a teenager becoming the CEO of his family's multi-million dollar company and another teenager being his bodyguard falling in love! How could I not love it?! It's outrageous! And somehow the most unrealistic thing about this plot is there being a genuine good guy who openly talks about bitcoins, and I LOVE HIM! I did not have falling in love with a man who enjoys "investing" on my BINGO card, but then again, look at my very good boy. LOOK AT HIM!

Hit Bite Love - It's so messy. It has stepbrothers in love, open discussions about condom sizes and lubricant, Kinks-R-Us, a bi Burger looking for his King, and so much more. This past episode hid a pivotal scene behind a paywall due to the two characters having sex in the school's locker room, so half of the plot was missing in the edited version. It made NO SENSE, but I didn't care. Give me all the mess, but I draw the line at taking off your sock and putting it in someone's mouth. BAD BOY! VERY BAD BOY!

The End of the World with You - Japanese BLs stress me out. They give me a lot of an anxiety, and I'm constantly preparing for someone to die or for one of them to be a murderer. Even in the "happiest" Japanese BLs, there always exist this undercurrent of malice..and I'm attracted to it. >insert Ritsu aka El Diablo<

Moonlight Chicken - Eff "More than Friends, Less than Lovers!" That's child's play. Give me my HussyVille Gang Gang! Give me the "we've been breaking beds and each other's backs since day one, but I'm not even sure what his name is, and if I'm being honest, I don't really need to know" squad. Then, on top of that, it's EarthMix doing the devil's boogie?! I waited for over a year for this, and I don't say this often when it comes to men, but the anticipation was worth it.

HIStory 5: Love in the Future - I will always show up to a Taiwanese BL. They are like Rihanna at the Super Bowl. They do the bare minimum but are still very entertaining, include all the fan favorites (domestic bliss, high heat, office romances, good side couples, marriage equality), and pop out with a few surprises. Others may be disappointed, but I am ALWAYS pleased.

My School President - Did you read the list before this? There is a common underlying theme. Even if the show isn't messy, I'm going to find the mess and fixate on it, and it doesn't get stranger than Por's obsession with the chinchilla. GMM better get on merchandising this critter ASAP because there is a gold mine behind this, capitalizers.

Bed Friend - It hasn't started yet, but I'll be watching it. It has a Blue Boy and Red Rascal BUT they are not who would normally be coded that way, which means they are clearly going to have to resolve the reasons why they changed their behavior to cover up their obvious colors. Who hurt our Red Rascal that he turned into a nun? Who harmed our Blue Boy to make him the slutty slut he is? I cannot wait to find out!

Chains of Heart - One word: Papi. Wait, sorry. Let me try again: Poppy. The show has a plot, and I care about it, but...Poppy. He is playing a bad guy, which I got a glimpse of in Love Mechanics, so I'm hoping it means we get to see more of him, and I don't mean screen time, although I wouldn't be opposed to that either. Obviously, I have to be interested in the actual plot since he is a supporting character...but POPPY! mmmm, papi!

#My current watchlist #Spoiler Alert - It's basura!#Great Men Academy #Chains of Heart #Bed Friend #HIStory 5: Love in the Future #Hit Bite Love #The End of the World with You #The Warp Effect #Moonlight Chicken #Never Let Me Go #My School President #My Beautiful Man 2

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louisupdates · 2 years ago

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simonjonespr: Details of @Louis_Tomlinson’s ‘All Of Those Voices’ revealed.

Feature length documentary in cinemas worldwide from Wednesday 22 March for a limited time. All info here: Article

Louis Tomlinson has today announced the cinema release date and ticketing details for his highly-anticipated and emotive documentary film, All Of Those Voices.

In partnership with 78 Productions, Trafalgar Releasing will bring All Of Those Voices to cinemas worldwide on Wednesday, 22 March for a limited time only. Tickets will go on sale at 2pm GMT on Wednesday, 22 February. Visit www.allofthosevoices.com for ticketing and the most up-to-date information about participating cinemas globally.

All Of Those Voices takes a refreshingly raw and real look at Louis Tomlinson's musical journey. Ditching the typical glossy sheen of celebrity documentaries, this film gives audiences an intimate and unvarnished view of Louis' life and career. Through never-before-seen home movie footage and behind the scenes access to Louis’ sell-out 2022 World Tour, All Of Those Voices offers a unique perspective on what it's like to be a musician in today's fast-paced world.

From the highs of superstardom to the lows of personal tragedy, Louis' story is one of resilience and determination. The film explores his journey from a member of One Direction to a solo artist, capturing the challenges and triumphs that defined his path. Since the acclaimed release of his debut album ‘Walls’ and documenting the creation of his chart topping 2022 album ‘Faith In The Future, the film shows a side of Louis that fans have never seen before, as he grapples with the pressures of fame and the weight of his own voice.

Directed by Charlie Lightening, the filmmaker behind the award-winning As It Was, All Of Those Voices is a story about the power of self-discovery and the courage it takes to be true to oneself. With a focus on honesty and vulnerability, this film is a refreshingly down-to-earth take on the life of a musician, capturing the real-life struggles and triumphs of a man who refused to be silenced by anyone else's expectations.

Louis Tomlinson - “This has been something I’ve been working on for years, I’m really excited to finally put it out into the world. I’ve said it a million times but I’m lucky enough to have the greatest fans an artist could wish for, and as they always go above and beyond for me, I wanted to share my story ‘in my own words’.“

Marc Allenby, CEO Trafalgar Releasing - "We are excited to partner with Louis and his management team to bring his incredible story to cinemas worldwide. Louis' continued success beyond One Direction is inspiring, and clearly shows his global reach as an artist. We look forward to bringing his fans together to celebrate his life and work on the big screen this March."

About Louis Tomlinson

Louis Tomlinson is a singer and songwriter from Doncaster, UK. As a member of One Direction, Louis was part of one of the biggest musical groups of all time. Now solo, Louis is following his heart musically. Following the international success of his 2020 debut album, Walls, which has sold over 1.2 million copies, Louis recently released his new album, Faith In The Future. The acclaimed album went to No.1 in the UK, Spain and Belgium and Top 5 in the USA, Australia, New Zealand and across Europe. In addition, he recently announced a huge 85 date global tour for 2023. In 2021, Louis was listed in the Guinness Book Of World Records for breaking the record for the most live streamed concert by a solo male artist, hosting one of the biggest live stream concert events ever held, selling over 160,000 tickets to fans in over 110 countries and raising funds for several important charities and touring crew affected by the pandemic. Following the huge success of the festival’s 2021 debut, last August also saw the return of Louis’ highly successful self-curated event, The Away From Home Festival. The one-day event was staged last year at the stunning Marenostrum Fuengirola in Malaga, Spain, hosting 18,000 fans and selling out in just 24 hours with a line-up of some of the best new British bands.

About Trafalgar Releasing

Trafalgar Releasing, the global leader in event cinema distribution, harnesses the power of cinema to bring fans together in more than 13,000 locations in 132 countries worldwide. A subsidiary of Trafalgar Entertainment, Trafalgar Releasing’s worldwide operations include production, acquisition, marketing, and distribution of live or pre-recorded content to cinemas led by an international team of specialists. Featuring live concerts, music documentaries, world-class opera, award-winning theatre, and more from the leading names in entertainment such as BTS, Metallica, Oasis, Coldplay, Billy Joel, George Michael, Twenty One Pilots, the Royal Opera House and more, Trafalgar Releasing has shattered event cinema box office records, most recently with the BTS Permission to Dance on Stage - Seoul: Live Viewing concert which grossed more than $32.6M at the global box office. More information about Trafalgar Releasing can be found at www.trafalgar-releasing.com.

#simon jones #louis tomlinson #all of those voices #Louis PR #Louis promo 23 #8 february 2023

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ahdriking · 2 years ago

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So, Blue Blood is finished. And,,,, I have a lot of feelings about it.

Let me tell you a story! Six months ago, I decided to open up and engage with tumblr for the first time in almost three years. It was a random evening, I was bored and had nothing to do, so I decided to see what was going on in the world that had once consumed my life, but which had been absent from it for quite some time. Almost immediately (a testament to how well past me curated my blog) I came across a gifset from Kinnporsche. Can’t remember what it was of, but it appealed to me enough that I hunted the show down on a whim and put it on.

And then my entire life changed.

I’m not being dramatic, I’m genuinely serious. I used to waste my days playing phone games and watching TV because I had gotten out of using my computer and accessing fandom, but after I watched Kinnporsche, I literally put down my phone and forgot about it so hard I literally broke it accidentally and have gone without one for five months. I reactivated my tumblr from its longtime slumber, I created a twitter for the first time ever, I logged into ao3 for the first time in almost two years, and I stepped into fandom with the burning passion of a woman who’s entire life had been consumed. Because this show made me feel more than any show I have ever watched has made me feel, more than any other piece of media has ever made me feel. I have never been so emotionally enraptured by a fictional relationship, one which was enriched by the most sensual and stimulating sex scenes I’ve ever seen captured on film, one which played into all of my interests like it had been tailor made for me. I have never been so intrigued by the potential of a plot or world. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible. I could never ever in a million years have prepared myself for it; to hope for something even close to a pale shade of what we got would have felt unreasonable before. And yet, Kinnporsche exists. Despite all reason, logic and odds, Kinn and Porsche exist. And I found it, while it was still airing at that, and got to participate in one of the most exciting and enrapturing tv show experiences I’ll probably ever have in my life.

Maybe it was in part due to the euphoria of the impossible happening, or maybe it was simply the novelty of experiencing passion for a creative IP for the first time in years, or maybe it was the enthusiasm of the community I found and the ability to connect with people again, but something fundamentally shifted in me because of this show, and not just in what I did in my spare time. A creative spirit I had not felt in years came roaring to life in me with an unholy vengeance the likes of which I have truly never experienced before. My generally poor mental health, which had numbed me for so long, was drowned out for days at a time by the most intense and compelling feelings of excitement and anticipation and adoration and obsession and fixation I’ve felt probably ever felt, a literally perfect cocktail of emotions that reactivated something long dormant in my mind. It left me inspired, more than I have ever been in my life– my ao3 can serve as proof! My greatest achievement before had been writing 50,000 words in a single year. I wrote that much within the first month and a half of watching the show. I went from averaging 12,000 words over 3 years to 200,000 in 6 months.

My point is, Kinnporsche was entirely unprecedented in my life, and it changed me down to my marrow. It made me capable of writing in a way I have never, ever been able to before. And that was why I found myself in the position of entertaining the idea of a longfic for the first time in *years*.

Some important context: I have never finished anything. I’ve been writing creatively since I was old enough to hold a pencil, dreaming about the stories I would one day tell, but the idea of ever being able to actually finish one? That sort of achievement felt out of reach all of my life. I just wasn’t good enough, and I was certain that I never would be. So thinking about writing a longfic so soon after taking up writing again really felt like a risky, no good idea. I promised myself I wouldn’t, not unless the idea was so good it just HAD to be attempted. Something genuinely exceptional.

It was a series of cascading coincidences that led me to Blue Blood. First, a particular photo of Apo with eyeliner. Then, a series of meta posts investigating the potential darkness of Kinn’s character. Finally, joining a discord server of people who were excited by and receptive of the initial ideas that intrigued me: fighter!porsche and dark mafia!Kinn. It was a perfect storm. And fuck me if it didn’t make me feel really, really excited by it. So I did the improbable: I started to plan.

One of my problems has always been that I start something without knowing how to finish it. I set off before I have the destination in mind, hoping to somehow figure it out along the way, but inevitably run out of steam and, without an ending in sight, the process feels hopeless. But I was determined not to do this for Blue Blood. So I comprehensively planned out the entire arc of the fic, and gave myself as much structure as I could (as I’ve told a few people, Blue Blood boils down to a 5+1 fic in structure. It’s 5 fights plus the final boss showdown(altho I only had to write 5 total cos I did a cheeky). And I really, really fucking liked it. It felt really fucking tangible. Writing the first chapter, after that, was the easiest thing in the world. Genuinely, chapter one was one of the most fun writing experiences I’ve ever had, it just fucking poured out of me. And the reception to it was amazing; the number of people who took a chance on the first chapter of a WIP, on a dark fic one at that, truly thrilled and excited me. So we were off to a good start.

But Blue Blood wouldn’t remain mine alone.

I picked up @kissporsche sometime after the first chapter, but before the second. We had exchanged a few random messages on tumblr, and they seemed like a really cool person, so when I wanted someone to take a look at my work I thought of them. All I wanted, initially, was someone to beta what I’d written and maybe give me a few encouraging comments. I sent her the doc, and waited to hear back. And what I got blew me the fuck away. I’ve had beta’s before, but never one who so comprehensively attacked the editing process, in such a way that I genuinely felt was perfectly targeted to identifying my weaknesses and expanding on my strengths. And not just that, but she was excited to just *talk* to me about it, she was excited for me to bounce ideas off of her and explore difficulties with her and just generally bitch about whatever with her. And she was more than open to the idea of working on the next chapter. And maybe the one after that.

Before I knew it my usually solitary and isolated experience writing fic was just a thing of the past. I suddenly had someone who would not only listen to my every random thought or concern I had, but who would genuinely encourage them and do the same right back at me. It was fucking INCREDIBLE. As a person who lives for feedback, I found myself writing things just to be able to send them to kissporsche for her edits and reactions. I found myself driven, almost supernaturally, to produce content just so we could pour over it together and explore it. It changed everything. It *was* everything.

Kissporsche is responsible for so many, many parts of this fic. From being instrumental in determining key plot factors, to being the reason for the switching POV’s, to being the saving grace of Porsche’s characterisation, to instigating and perpetuating the presence of Vegaspete, to fixing up my many grammatical errors and word repetitions, to encouraging me through hard times, to cheering for me through easy times, to being a voice of reason during the dark times. For being a friend when I needed one, a voice of love and support, one that cut through and silenced the worst of my insecurities. For being someone I could turn to for whatever I needed, for being someone who made me feel competent and capable, for being someone who I could rely on. For being someone who opened up to me and let me in and gave me nothing but love and acceptance and validation in return. There aren’t many people out there in the world like you, and I want you to know that I appreciate that fact. I know how lucky I am.

There were times when it was fucking hard and I struggled, and I thought very bleakly about the future of this fic. But never once, not even for a second, did I truly feel that I was going to abandon it. I couldn’t. I had someone waiting for me, with genuine and loud excitement, to carry on. And so I did. I carried on and I carried on and I carried on and then, all of a sudden, it was almost over. And I had nearly done it. *We* had nearly done it.

These last few weeks have been truly fucking insane. We’ve spent a lot of time losing our shit over the fact that it’s getting closer and closer to it being over. To it being finished. And now we’re finally here, we’re actually fucking finally here, at the final page. At the end. And it just feels surreal! It feels like a dream. It’s finished.

Blue Blood is finished.

I’m proud of us! I’m proud of myself. I’m damn fucking proud of myself for writing this fic. I’m proud of the plot, I’m proud of the characters, I’m proud of the world, and I’m fucking proud of finishing it. I’ve proven to myself that it’s possible, that I’m capable, and it feels like an entire world of possibility has opened up as a result. Who knows what I might write next?

I know this was a lot, but it feels important to me to mark this event with such an introspective post, because I want to remember everything about this. I want to come back years from now and re-read this and remember exactly what it was like, exactly how it felt. And I want all of you to know what it meant. This fic has changed my life, as dramatic as that sounds. It has fundamentally changed me in more ways than I can really express. It will always be my first.

But not my last 😏

#blue blood #hoo boy this is quite a lot #but every damn word comes from my soul motherfuckers #its the end of an era #and i had to say goodbye properly

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