#with a handheld video camera and all

[unproduciblesmackdown]

aptly when i revisited this inserted Shot Just Of EWM Sort Of Looming that had made me laugh it was like oh i'd remembered it as like even more exaggeratedly sickos like looking up from lowered head. it's so funny i remember like oh he was the sickos villain that time like surprise fun fact to me

[casuallyanidiot]

Exclusive Content

Yandere Vlogger x AFAB Reader

Follow up to this

TW. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ! MDNI ! Noncon, captivity, spanking, anal, bondage, voyeurism, edging (you don't get to finish)

You're captor loves giving the fans what they want!

“You don’t have to cry when you’re not on camera, you know.”

Tears dribbled down your cheeks as you curled up into a little ball. Your hands were wrapped in soft mittens, making them basically unusable. You sniffled and wiped your face. It was humiliating. You were practically nude save for the collar around your neck and the stockings clinging to your upper thighs.

“Seriously,” He sighed and wrapped his large hand around your ankle, yanking you across the mattress until you were seated at the edge where all the cameras were pointed to. “You’ve got to save your energy,” He chided and smoothed out your hair a bit. He wiped at your ruddy face, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Although… yeah keep pouting like that,” he groaned and pulled out the handheld. He zoomed the lens in on your fearful expressions. His breathing became ragged. As he held your face in his palm, squishing your cheeks and turning your head in various directions. A bit of drool slipped past your lips, and you let out a tiny sob. “Fuckkkk you’re perfect. You’re my perfect little thing aren’t you?” His thumb worked his way past your teeth, chuckling softly as he smeared spit over your puffy lips.

The world spun as you were forced over, your hips propped up on a pillow. You let out a strangled cry as he grabbed a handful of your ass. He quickly worked to strap your arms to be folded together behind your back, making it arch almost painfully. He spread the globes of your ass open, and you whimpered at the feeling. Normally he’d keep you stuffed with toys, making a show of how gaped you could become afterwards, but today was different. You shuffled a bit to see what he was preparing, and you yelped at the feeling of cool lube being poured onto your skin. You tried to shut your thighs, but he kept them open as he began to work his fingers into you. You moaned soon after, your eyes fluttering as the sounds of your cunt being pumped into sounded out.

“We got- fuck- we got a request to have you be spanked and then do a bit of anal. They said- said not to touch your clit or anything. So unfair haha. Our viewers have gotten so mean lately. I think they like seeing you all scared. But you don’t have to be scared with me, baby. No no no, You’ve just got to relax so I can keep taking care of us.”

It shouldn’t feel this bad, or any more bad than being kidnapped and fucked mercilessly on a daily basis would. But no, no he made you read all the things people said about you. About him. They didn’t think this was real, and if they did, then they probably were getting off on the idea that you were being held captive. You had tried to call out for help once in a video, but when people said your screams were too realistic, he started to gag you for a while after that. It was a project, this wasn’t actually your life, he was a good partner, you were a good actor: All things people said instead of actually helping you. And now you were stuck having your ass spread for whoever would pay the most, just because he couldn’t deal with the reality that this was anything but your worst nightmare.

In the last few weeks, your captor had been filming nearly every moment of your life. You’d be convinced that he got some sick pleasure from documenting every scream and tearful breakdown, but you knew better. Sure, he liked it, but he mainly did it because of his damn viewers. You were sure that we wouldn’t even have your thighs open and down if it wasn’t for a good chunk of those sick fucks practically begging to see him fuck you on a near daily basis, but then again he was literally your kidnapper so you couldn’t say anything for certain anymore.

You squealed as he brought his hand down. The resounding crack was followed by a burning sting. You didn’t have a moment to breathe before he smacked you again, and again until your backside was on fire and bruised. Your tears stained the pillow as you whimpered, and he reached forward, petting your lower back like one would a frightened animal.

“There we go. You did so good.” 

He had to gag you before starting to actual fuck you. He was running his fingers over your scalp as if it would make anything better. His cock was stretching out your asshole in a way that felt all too wrong and full. You gurgled pathetically as he shallowly thrust into you. It didn’t even feel all that good, but he was moaning like you had handed him heaven on a silver platter.

“Mngh! H-hah d-don’t worry baby- I’ll touch your pussy as much as you want after this,” he whispered mischievously as he pressed a kiss behind your ear. You sobbed at the thought of letting him anywhere near your other hole, but you were leaking all over the sheets at the moment. And your cunt was positively aching to have attention paid to it. You winced as he grew more frantic in pacing, finally spilling deep within your clenching ass. You made a pathetic whine as he stilled within you, spanking your ass a few more times as he rolled his hips almost teasingly before pulling out. He panted as he hooked his finger in the rim of your asshole and pulled it to the side so the camera could capture the way his cum leaked out.

“Okay! And that should be good for now,” he sighed, throwing his head back and running his hand through his hair. “Man, baby, you’re so fucking tight down here. I thought you were gonna rip my dick off haha,” he laughed breathlessly and unbuckled the gag. He massaged your jaw as you slumped forward.

“I know, I know. You don’t like being shut up like that… but I really kind of have to. I mean, It’s not exactly hot when you’re screaming for help all the time,” He said and started to review the footage while his other hand reached down and started to tease your clit again. You jumped at his touch, but as humiliated as you were, you were so embarrassingly horny that you simply bit into the sheets beneath you to stop the humiliating noises from spilling out.

One maddeningly slow circle at a time. You grunted softly, and he let out a whistle. “ You know, I’m so glad I get to do this with you. I’m really lucky. Most people can’t make a living from loving their partner all the time like we do.”

He slipped a finger in, and you rolled your hips desperately to meet the friction.

“It just sucks that so many people want me to be mean to you. Hah… I guess we should be grateful, huh? You’re so cute… it’s no wonder people want to bully you…” He trailed off before kneeling down between your legs. He hummed appreciatively as his hand worked on your entrance, your walls pulsing around his fingers. He smiled, and you felt his breath on your sensitive folds before you could help yourself. You yelped a bit as he groaned into your pussy, his tongue stroking and slurping eagerly. You keened softly as you bucked your hips, trying to grind on his nose. You could feel the heat coiling in your belly as you panted and trembled. Finally, after all that fucking bullshit, you were gonna cum. 

And then, all of a sudden, his touch was gone. 

You blinked for a moment, before tears of frustration gathered in your eyes. You let out a wail as you writhed, trying desperately to find the sweet friction you needed to finish, but he merely placed a hand on your lower back.

“Oh? Hold up…”

You craned your neck to the side as tears slipped down your face, and you paled as you saw his expression. He was smiling, almost cruelly as he rubbed your back in a sympathetic way.

“Sorry baby. We just got another request. A bunch of nipple play this time. My viewers are so weird haha. Anyways, I promise I’ll let you cum for real afterwards as a reward,” he assured you, and you whimpered as he loomed over you, fixing the camera to start the whole ordeal all over again with a wicked glint in his eye. You let out a terrified squeak. As much as you and him blamed the people who paid for these stupid videos, you didn’t think that anyone who didn’t enjoy their job would look so gleeful about it at the same time.

[afloweroutofstone]

Before "The Blair Witch Project" properly introduced mainstream audiences to found footage horror in 1999, people were unfamiliar with the idea of a movie made to seem as though it was not a movie. No musical score, no introductory credits, unstable shots that seemed realistic to how early handheld cameras worked at the time— all of this gave viewers the impression that what they were watching was real, actual footage.

Like Orson Welles' radio broadcast announcing an alien invasion, the found footage horror subgenre's playfulness with the boundaries between fact and fiction got it in a lot of trouble. Many of these incidents have been obscured by years of rumor and urban legend, but there are at least three examples of pre-1999 found footage horror fooling audiences.

Cannibal Holocaust (1980)— the infamous found footage mockumentary about a film crew being captured and killed deep inside of the Amazon— was the first to experience this issue. Though the extent of the inquiry has been exaggerated over time, there is generally believed to have been some form of investigation by Italian authorities into whether Cannibal Holocaust was a real snuff film.

Guinea Pig 2: A Flower of Flesh and Blood (1985) had something similar happen several years later. A particularly gruesome Japanese slasher filmed from the perspective of the killer, this movie circulated amongst VHS traders until it eventually reached actor Charlie Sheen, who alerted the FBI under the belief that it was real. The FBI took it seriously until they found a making-of documentary which detailed how Guinea Pig 2 did its gore effects.

My favorite example is Alien Abduction: Incident in Lake County* (1998), which depicts an alien abduction in rural Montana. When the film was aired on TV, most viewers only tuned in after the opening credits that made clear Alien Abduction was a fictional movie. Many early internet users came together to discuss their experiences seeing something on TV late at night which displayed a disturbing, seemingly realistic alien encounter, and none of them knew what it was or where it came from. People started reaching out to Montana law enforcement for more details only to be told that no one with the main character's name had ever lived in Lake County, Montana. A TV station in New Zealand even reported that the movie's legitimacy was "a topic of dispute."

Now that most people know about found footage horror, the same type of hoax is far more difficult to pull off. A few more recent entries in the subgenre take this dynamic to an even deeper level of meta-narrative: the plot of Butterfly Kisses (2018) revolves around the idea that, because the public has grown accustomed to these types of fictional found footage hoaxes, no one would seriously believe a genuine piece of found footage horror were one to emerge. If something truly inexplicable were caught on film by an amateur, everyone would just assume that it's part of a marketing campaign for some new film coming soon to theaters.

But I think the events of the last few years have made it clear that there's still lots of unexplored territory for found footage mindfuckery. Why not set up TikTok and IG accounts for fictional characters (like what Cloverfield did with Myspace), have actors run them as normal accounts for a year or two, gradually start introducing weird and inexplicable details to their videos that are minor enough to be dismissed as coincidence or fluke, build tension until a climax in the form of an elaborate livestreamed hoax, and then create deepfake news coverage of the event that looks like it's coming from a real local news station. If we're going to have a general collapse in the public's ability to distinguish fact from fiction, we should at least have some fun with it.

Side note:

*Alien Abduction: Incident in Lake County is often confused with an earlier version of the film released in 1989 called The McPherson Tape. Even though Alien Abduction was just a remake of the equally-fictional The McPherson Tape, rumors continued to swirl after Alien Abduction's debunking that it was a reenactment of a real abduction supposedly captured in the "raw footage" of The McPherson Tape. You can probably still find a few UFO people who believe this, even though the original The McPherson Tape is now available online and uses cheap amateur film-making effects that are easy to spot for modern audiences.

[jellysmosh]

Feels Like Being in Love

Summary: As a camera operator at Smosh, you were accustomed to being invisible, preferring to be out of sight and blending into the background. But something seemed to shift when your crush started seeking you out to talk about things you also happened to be interested in.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Tags: Fluff, mutual pining

Word count: 3.5k

Note: I’m used to writing from an extrovert’s pov (since I am one), so I was trying to write a more reserved, shyer reader… shout out to any of my introverted readers out there! Love you divas! Also, this was meant to be short, that didn’t really happen.

☆

Smosh was an insane place to work.

When you were hired, you did not expect to leave your comfort place behind the camera. As a camera operator, you worked closely with Brennan safely out of shot. However, every now and then, you had been convinced to get mic'd up and stand in front of the camera for various crew-involved videos. They were a lot of fun, especially the hide and seek videos and crew gauntlet TNTL’s. You were admittedly camera shy, you were not a trained actor and you had very little experience being anywhere besides behind the camera. You loved filming and photography, releasing the reins and becoming the subject being filmed was a different ballpark, it made you sweat and you became hyper aware of where you rested your hands. Generally, you were content mixing in with the crew, invisible amongst the other staff members.

Your favourite videos to film were for the games channel. They had an elevated level of chaos and had really helped you improve your handheld filming skills. Last time they played The Maury Game, you were huffing and puffing, locking in on chasing Angela around behind the set.

Another reason you loved filming games videos was working with the one and only Spencer Agnew. You didn’t have a crush on him, you just admired him and how amazing he was at his job. He was so experienced and knew what he was doing so well that he directed with ease. He would give you clear and detailed instructions, but also gave you liberty to make creative decisions. Brennan was happy as long as you didn’t break anything when you ran after cast members. Spencer easily commanded the room when filming games videos, it was so attractive seeing him in his element, like it came as easy to him as walking and talking.

Okay, so maybe you had a crush on him.

He was a brilliant director, friend, coworker, subject to film, just a great guy overall. How were you not meant to fall for him? His charming and funny on-camera persona was magnetic, and his usual sweet and slightly mild mannered self off-camera was even more attractive. You weren’t close enough to hang out much one-on-one, but whenever you spent time with him in a group, you could feel your eyes being drawn to him the entire time. He was so attractive, full of quick-witted sarcasm, a huge bank of niche references in his head, and all topped off with an infectious smile. You were screwed from the moment you met him, essentially.

☆

“Hey Y/N.”

You looked up from your laptop to the sound of Spencer’s voice. You nervously smiled as he walked over to you. You had made it to set a little early and was checking a couple emails before you finished setting up the equipment for the next Board AF shoot.

“Hi, Spencer”, you replied softly, worried your voice would shake if you spoke any louder. “I’ll finish setting up in a second, just replying to an email.”

“Oh”, he waved one hand dismissively, “no rush, we have plenty of time. Nobody else is going to arrive on set for another ten minutes.”

You just mutely nodded, kicking yourself for being so awkward. You weren’t sure how to respond since you didn’t normally chat with Spencer alone unless it was work related. You were used to blending in, mixing into the crowd of the crew. You hesitated before looking back down at your screen, trying to focus on typing out a reply as if you weren’t extremely conscious of the man sitting only a metre away from you. Just as you hit send, you became aware of the feeling of eyes on you. You slowly raised your head, scared of being wrong and him catching you staring like a creep. But when you looked up, he was already looking at you. You felt your face heat up immediately and the hair on the back of your neck stand up, you felt like a deer in headlights with his green eyes locking with yours.

You raised your eyebrows in question, “yes?”

“Nothing”, he replied casually, “I just noticed your shirt, it’s cool.”

You glanced down at your shirt, a graphic t-shirt you bought from one of your favourite bands, Wet Leg.

“Thank you”, you murmured bashfully, you were flattered by his compliment, “do you like Wet Leg?”

It felt like a strange question to say to someone out loud.

“Yeah!” He smiled brightly, it made you also smile subconsciously, it was contagious. “Their stuff’s really cool. I loved their new singles.”

You felt yourself perk up, you didn’t often talk about your personal interests with people at work outside of the camera operation team. It excited you that someone shared something in common with you. Especially since that person was Spencer.

“Oh my god, they’re so good”, you gushed before you could stop yourself, “I’m so excited for their upcoming album.”

He laughed and nodded in agreement. You two chatted about the band until other people started arriving on set and you had to finish fixing up the cameras in preparation for filming. That was the shortest ten minutes of your life.

You were done adjusting the cameras when the cast members all found their seats. You nodded at the other members of the crew, signalling you were ready to go. You glanced over your shoulder to where you knew Spencer was sitting, he looked up at the same time. You almost jumped at the sudden eye contact.

You offered him a small smile. He smiled back. You turned back to the camera in front of you, cheeks and ears burning.

☆

You had helped finish up the last shoot of the day, a Challenge Pit video that required a lot of different angles, so there was plenty of stuff to put away. You were packing up various bits of camera equipment, stepping back to scan the shelf to make sure everything was in the right spot.

“Hey Y/N.”

You jumped. It was the second time that week you had heard that voice say those words.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you”, he looked at you with that charming smile of his as he stepped into the storeroom.

“That’s alright”, the volume of your voice was just above a whisper. You couldn’t deny you felt a little flustered being in a secluded space with him. “What’s up?”

“Alex just informed me that you like Baccano!” He leaned against the wall, hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. “I had to come talk to you about it. Such a good anime.”

You gasped. Baccano! was your favourite anime. You vaguely recalled mentioning it to Alex when they randomly asked you the question a while ago before scampering off, you assumed they were up to the usual strange games team antics, some kind of office survey maybe.

“Yeah, it’s so good!” You agreed with him, smiling. You fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt to calm your nerves, “you like it too? It’s a bit old but I really love it. It’s so fun to rewatch too.”

You felt your entire face flush at the way he was attentively listening to you. He had this open, observant expression every time he was closely listening to someone, and it made you a little anxious to have it directed at you.

“Yeah”, he mumbled, “I really like it.” His eyes lingered on you a little longer before breaking eye contact and casually scanning the room. “You have great taste in anime. I would know, of course. I am obviously the authority on good taste.”

That made you laugh, you leaned back as well, shoulders pressed against a pillar. You were overcompensating a bit, trying extra hard to look casual and cool when your heart was actually racing.

“You clearly are”, you responded, you gave him a close-lipped smile and a tilt of your head that you hoped looked curious and not like you were straining your neck awkwardly. “Do you have any recommendations for my next watch?”

“Ooh..”, he lifted his head to stare at the ceiling, clearly thinking hard. “Have you watched Erased?”

He glanced at you and when you shook your head, he grinned in that gorgeous, beautiful way he always did.

“You would love it. Maybe we could watch it together sometime?” He lowered his voice, the air between you felt warm, electric.

You started to spiral. Was that a genuine invitation? There was no way he was flirting with you, maybe he just wanted to hang out. Maybe he was the kind of person that liked to see his friends’ reactions when watching things he liked? The idea of hanging out with him made you sweat though, you needed at least a third person to buffer otherwise you would have a nervous breakdown. You felt like you were about to panic, he had to mean that in a purely platonic way, right? This did seem like a good chance to get to know him better but there was no way you could handle being alone with him. He was looking at you expectantly and you were totally overthinking.

“Yeah, maybe”, your voice cracked a little as you replied, nerves showing. “Uh, I gotta go”, you said bluntly, incredibly embarrassed and trying to escape as fast as humanly possible.

“Oh, okay…”, he replied in confusion as you quickly grabbed some of your belongings and scurried out the door. You didn’t look back as you power-walked down the hall.

Your fears won this round. You were a bit ashamed of your awkwardness, sure you had fumbled that social interaction miserably. You wondered if Spencer was disappointed in your response. You pushed the thought out of your head, just relieved to be out of that stuffy room with the object of your affections standing alone inside.

☆

You patted your pockets, making sure you had your keys and phone as you walked towards the office car park. You heard footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, as you turned to see who it was, you nervously grabbed the strap of your bag on instinct. As per usual, you braced yourself for the incoming social situation. And you were right to be nervous, because it was Spencer making his way towards you.

You had been avoiding him since the weird interaction in the camera equipment storeroom, only really staying anywhere near him when working. You had grown more worried and suspicious he may have realised you had feelings for him. It was pretty simple to deduce, in your opinion, you feared your reactions to him made it obvious.

“Hey Y/N.”

The way your name rolled off his tongue made you shiver. You couldn’t deny you loved it when he said it, being acknowledged by him was a curse and a blessing, it made you cripplingly nervous but incredibly happy. Spencer Agnew made your life agony.

“Hi”, you choked out, grip tightening on your bag. You looked down at your feet, kicking slightly at the concrete. You weren’t sure what to say to him and you could feel your face warming the longer he looked at you.

“Um”, he seemed to hesitate. You glanced up at him and was surprised to see he seemed a little bashful. “I, uh, I have something for you.”

Your eyes widened as he dug around in his bag. He got you something? A gift? Your heartbeat was so loud, you were certain he could hear it. When he turned back to you with a Smiski blind box in his hand, you were afraid your heart was going to beat right out of your chest for him to witness.

“A Smiski?” You felt yourself grin despite your nerves, “I love Smiskis!”

“Yeah, I got this one for free”, he replied sheepishly, “I noticed you had a few on your desk, so I thought you would appreciate it more than me.”

You accepted the present delicately, your cheeks reddened when you felt your fingers graze against his own. His hand was warm and soft, making it obvious how clammy yours was. Your instinct to run away was overshadowed by your excitement that Spencer had not only given you a Smiski, but also that he noticed you liked them. He had a way of making you feel seen when you had always thought you were invisible.

“Thank you, Spencer”, you said gratefully, “this is so sweet. Are you sure you don’t want it?”

He shook his head, “it’s all yours, it’s clear you want it. Look at that smile.”

You immediately flushed a deep red, your hand reflexively coming up to cover your face. You were mortified that he could clock how ecstatic you were. You just hoped he thought you were happy because of the Smiski itself and not because it was Spencer gifting it. The both of you laughed, you shyly looked down again, admiring the little box in your hand.

When you locked eyes again, you couldn’t read his expression. The eye contact alone made you feel like you were going crazy.

“Make sure you keep it front and centre on your desk”, he jokingly pointed at you like he was giving an order. It made you giggle. “I’ll be checking.”

“Yes sir”, you smiled at him, genuine. He made you nervous, but he also made you want to open up, be honest with him. That made you even more nervous.

“Good”, he put his hands in his pockets, satisfied, “so everytime you look down at him, it’ll remind you of me.”

Forget opening up, you were ready to sprint away, just absolutely leg it out of there. You took a step back from him, chuckling to cover up how much you were freaking out. He was clearly just playing around, being friendly, but did he know the effect he had on you? You had to leave before you sweat through your shirt.

“Seeyoutomorrow”, you sputtered out briskly before practically jogging to your car. You were desperate to get out of there.

You didn’t trust yourself to glance at him still standing in the same spot as you quickly pulled out of the car park, tires screeching.

☆

You heard a voice as you set your bag down at your desk.

“Hey Y/N.”

Oh crap, you weren’t ready to talk to Spencer yet. It was 9am and you had not emotionally prepared yourself. After the conversation you shared the previous afternoon, you were still on edge. You had thought about him practically all night, staring at the Smiski he gave you and lying awake, plagued by thoughts of his kind gestures, his adorable smile, and the way his fingers brushed against yours.

“Good morning, Spencer”, you replied politely, subconsciously fixing your hair as you turned to look at him.

He was extra cute today, no hat covering his bouncy curls and short sleeves showing his array of tattoos. He seemed a bit apprehensive today, breaking eye contact with you, staying a reasonable distance away.

“Can we talk for a second?” He looked around briefly before adding, “alone?”

Anxiety built up in your stomach. Alone. You nodded, silently hoping the floor would open up and eat you. Instead, you had to simply follow him to the currently empty break room. Talking to him had been happening a lot more often recently, and you were trying to act like you weren’t about to pee yourself like a shaking chihuahua every time. He chose a table to sit at and beckoned you over. You elected to sit on the chair opposite him, deciding it was safer for your trembling heart than sitting right next to him.

“You’re not in trouble, by the way”, he held his hands up. You let out a breath without thinking, you were glad he tried to quell your anxieties. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable over the past few days.”

That made you furrow your brow. You were exceedingly confused, what on earth was he talking about? He never made you uncomfortable, you were a highly strung ball of nerves but that had nothing to do with him.

“Uncomfortable?”

Seeing the clear confusion on your face, he continued, “well, I thought I completely messed up. Every single time I flirted with you, you immediately ran away every time.”

Your jaw dropped as Spencer’s cheeks reddened. What?

“Wait, wait- what?” You exclaimed, “flirting? What are you talking about?”

This time he looked confused. “You know, like the past few conversations we’ve had one-on-one?”

“You were flirting with me?” You could have sworn the room started spinning. Were you hearing him correctly?

“Yes”, he replied exasperatedly, “or, well, I was trying to. I thought you were trying to make it clear you weren’t interested.”

You gaped like a fish, you couldn’t recall anyone ever admitting to trying to flirt with you. How had you not picked up on the signs?

“Like with Wet Leg”, he continued, running a hand through his hair, “I only started listening to them because I had seen you wear that shirt before. They’re really good, don’t get me wrong, but I just wanted something to talk to you about. Something just between us.”

“Huh?” You thought your brain was about to short circuit.

“And with Baccano! … I admit I asked Alex to ask you what your favourite anime is”, he rocked back and forth on his heels slightly, “and then I binged it, I barely slept that night. But I was so keen to talk to you about it, I got restless.”

“What?” You placed your hands on the table, shocked at his admission.

“And the Smiski I gave you yesterday”, you held your breath while he confessed, “I lied. I didn’t get it for free, I was being a creep at your desk so I could figure out which line you hadn’t got yet and went out to find it so I could give you a present.”

“Why?” You felt faint.

“Because”, he shrugged nonchalantly, but his red cheeks gave him away, “I like you. I wanted you to notice me.”

You were a new level of flustered, your entire body was hot and you felt a little bit lightheaded. You pressed your two feet together under the table, confused, giddy, and scared of all this attention all at once.

“You’re silly”, you replied quietly. He leaned in to hear you clearer, hanging onto your every word. “How could I not notice you, Spencer?” You glanced at him shyly, “I never thought you would notice me, I don’t really stand out.”

“Are you kidding me?” He laughed breathily, “I could pick you out of a crowd of a million people with no problem.”

You locked eyes with him. You were overwhelmed in the best way possible. What you thought was a one-sided crush was actually reciprocated.

“I’ve liked you for ages now”, you blurted out, unable to hold it in anymore. You didn’t realise how filled with feelings you were until you were ready to spill it all out for him now. “I ran away from you because I was afraid you would realise and you didn’t feel the same.”

His gaze rested on you wordlessly for a beat, it looked like he was taking a minute to search for the right words.

“You’re the silly one”, he chuckled, scratching his beard, “how could I not feel that way about you? You’re amazing.”

You stared at each other silently for a moment before both bursting into excited giggles. You weren’t used to this feeling in your chest, like there was a firework ready to burst, shattering you into a hundred little sparks of every colour.

“I can’t believe you were paying such close attention to me”, you grinned at him mischievously, “I trust you enjoyed listening to good music and watching good anime?”

“Of course”, he nodded, “you have great taste. It just made me like you more.”

You didn’t think you could flush any darker. You didn’t feel brave enough to grab his hand, instead you slowly kicked your leg out until your foot was pressed up against his, he responded by gently pushing his foot back.

“Hey Spencer?” You weren’t sure if you could ever feel calm around him when he looked at you like that, eyes full of warmth and a small grin.

He hummed in response.

“If you forgive me for running away last time, and if you’ll still have me, I’d love to watch an anime with you sometime.”

And when he smiled at you like that, you were so glad you weren’t invisible to him.

☆

Note: I hope the shy readers relate to this… all my friends that like Smiskis are introverts, I couldn’t unsee that pattern once I noticed lol. And this might be a hidden ad for Wet Leg, I love them.

♡ masterlist

[inkykeiji]

character: valentino warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, possessiveness, toxic relationship, daddy kink, gun play, slight oral fixation, fem!reader who has unspecified piercings notes: for @sovya, who is val’s precious lil princesa ♡ and who always listens to my insane ramblings about ideas i had at exactly 6:20am hehe c: words: 687

Valentino has an interesting little quirk, you’ve come to learn; he always has to have something of his inside of you. It’s a simple fact, really. No matter what it is or where you are, a piece of him must always be within you in some way, shape, or form. 

He, of course, prefers for it to be a part of his body—his fingers, his tongue, his cock—but unfortunately that isn’t always feasible. 

And, of course, there are other objects that work well, too. 

Sometimes it’s his gun, barrel rammed down your throat as far as it possibly can be, teeth scraping against the N of his bedazzled name as you desperately attempt to swallow more, knees sinking into the plush shag of the carpet beneath his work desk, your chin resting on his thigh as you sit at his feet. Your lips pucker tightly around the barrel as they suck, thick dribbles of saliva oozing from the corners of your mouth to drizzle off your jaw in shimmering cords, while a dutiful tongue curls around the heated metal in a protective, almost loving embrace, eager to siphon it further into your body. 

Sometimes it’s one of his shiny gold rings, pressed flat under your tongue as you suck it into your flesh during your daily outings, the metal clacking daintily against your teeth while you mindlessly toy with it, the tip of your tongue hooking through the band then circling the halo in a lazy, messy outline, encrusted salt melting against your tastebuds, staining your tongue with the zest of his sweat. 

Sometimes it’s his favourite bullet vibrator, soft pink silicon engraved with his full name and a smattering of cute little hearts buried deep in your cunt as you go about your day, never knowing when Val might turn it on, turn it up, but always knowing that he’s watching through the discreet cameras he had Vox plant all over your shared condo, always ready for that telltale video call that you better fucking answer right before you cum—and knowing that if you don’t, you’ll be suffering endless edging until Daddy gets home (and sometimes after that, too). 

He gets off on it just as much as you do, chuckling darkly when your knees knock together and your thighs tense, a sharp gasp spilling from your throat and nails chipping as your fingers curl around the edge of the kitchen counter, tauntingly asking if something is wrong, amorcito? as his face swims into view, sadism stretched sharply across his face, eyes glowing with the knowledge that he holds all of your pleasure, all of that power, in the silky palm of his hand, controlling it with the single flick of a notch. 

Sometimes it’s his custom-made heart-shaped studs and barbells, embellished with ostentatious V’s and filling all of your piercings, glinting in the late afternoon sun or heating under your clothes as he drags you from store to store, an arm tightly linked through your own—showing you off, his most cherished accessory, his prettiest prized possession, his best accomplishment.  

If he has to pick a favourite, though, it’s his fingers, one of his four hands wedged between your soft thighs, two fingers stuffing your cunt full and idly stroking the silky walls as he works—writing scripts or reviewing footage—and you play—mashing buttons on your pretty pink handheld or colouring a picture for him, book folded at the spine and balancing against your bent knees, little tongue playing with the point of your fang as you concentrate. 

And yet, despite the sensuality of it all, it isn’t even sexual half of the time, going far beyond the shallow pleasures of carnality. Because that secret, shared knowledge that there is a piece of him constantly inside of you—a private claim of ownership in the most intimate sense—provides a deep-seated comfort; a warm, dense calm that roots itself at the very core of your souls, that soothes anxieties and serves as a steadfast reminder: that you are owned, that he owns you, that you belong to one another, always. 

[zeroseuniverse]

Final_Cut: You

Word Count: 1.6K Summary: But the camera wasn’t your webcam. It was handheld. Moving. Breathing. Someone had been there. Close enough to count your lashes. Close enough to brush hair from your forehead if they’d wanted to. Pairing: DK X Reader

Taglist: @haaruki  @agaha127 @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120  @ltfirecracker

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You never really knew your editor. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. You’d never shaken his hand or looked into his eyes. Never heard him laugh, or seen his name written down anywhere but in one sleek, unassuming corner of your shared folder. He went by DK. That was all he gave you, and in your line of work—where people overshared by default—that kind of anonymity almost felt charming. Clean. Professional.

He came recommended by another content creator you trusted. “Quiet. Fast. Reliable. Creepy good at catching your good side,” they’d said, half-laughing, not knowing how literal that would feel later.

So, you hired him. DK became the name behind the edits, the ghost in your machine. Every video you posted passed through his hands before the world ever saw it. He cleaned up the mess behind the illusion: removed your awkward pauses, trimmed your half-hearted brand plugs, warmed the lighting when your eyes looked too tired, softened your voice when it trembled.

You’d always found it eerie, in a way. How he seemed to know which frame made you look strongest. How he lingered just a moment longer on your real smile—the one you didn’t even know you gave. It was like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

At first, you chalked it up to talent. Intuition. Maybe a touch of luck.

But talent doesn’t explain how he caught the moment your expression faltered during a livestream, just before the screen glitched. It doesn’t explain how he managed to isolate your voice from a noisy café mic and leave only the breathy laugh you made when you spotted someone you liked. And it certainly doesn’t explain how, when you asked him for a behind-the-scenes edit—something raw, something real—he delivered something so intimate it made your skin crawl and your chest ache at the same time.

You watched that draft alone at midnight, curled into your blanket, half-expecting it to be a highlight reel of giggles and bloopers. But it wasn’t that. It was… you. Not the version you curated. Not the persona you wore like perfume.

No, this was you when the camera had slipped, when you forgot to mute, when your face settled into something hollow between takes. It was the moment you stared into your mirror, saying nothing. The way you brushed your fingers over a half-empty mug like you were waiting for it to fill. The sound of your breath after you ended a call and didn’t smile afterward.

And somehow, impossibly, he had footage you didn’t remember filming. A glimpse of you through a rain-streaked window. A shaky shot of you lit only by your laptop, eyes red but not crying. You blinked and replayed the segment four times, then stared at your drive.

You never recorded that.

But it was in your folder. Neatly named. Edited. Color-corrected. Yours.

You posted the video anyway. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because it felt real. Or maybe because the way he saw you was flattering in its honesty. Painful, yes—but gentle. Careful. Tender. Like someone memorizing the cracks of porcelain instead of fixing them.

The internet loved it. Flooded you with praise. “So raw.” “So real.” “So you.”

You messaged him afterward:

“That was beautiful. I felt like you saw the parts of me I never show anyone.”

He didn’t respond in words. Just a single file the next day, titled: “Final Cut_You”

You didn’t open it at first. Something about the name unsettled you, though you couldn’t explain why. It sat in your drive like a whisper behind a door you weren’t sure you wanted to open.

Meanwhile, you tried to think more about the DK you thought you knew. Tried to recall any calls, any photos, any trace of who he was beyond the edits. There were none. You hadn’t even spoken to him directly in months—just emails, maybe the occasional voice note on your end. He never replied in voice. His presence was always silent. Always watching.

You started to wonder if it had always been this way—if there had been clues you ignored. Your camera turning on by itself. Footage from a different angle. Files moved in your drive when you knew you hadn’t touched them.

Sometimes you felt him in your apartment, even when you were alone. That strange sixth sense, the weight of eyes in the walls. But when you turned, there was no one there. Just your webcam. Your blinking cursor. Your reflection, almost unfamiliar in the quiet.

Still, you didn’t stop sending him content. Maybe a part of you wanted to be seen like that. Honestly. Lovingly. Obsessively.

You opened the file one night. The “Final Cut.”

And there you were.

Not a montage. Not a highlight reel.

Just you, asleep.

The camera slowly panned closer. The room was dark, lit only by a streetlamp outside your window. You could see the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle shift of your hand against your pillow. The timestamp matched a night weeks ago. You’d fallen asleep editing late and hadn’t remembered hitting record.

But the camera wasn’t your webcam. It was handheld. Moving. Breathing.

Someone had been there. Close enough to count your lashes. Close enough to brush hair from your forehead if they’d wanted to.

The final frame held on your face for a full minute, unflinching. Then, softly, almost imperceptibly, the whisper of a voice you’d never heard before.

“You belong in every frame.”

That was the last thing on the video.

You didn’t report it. You didn’t fire him. You didn’t even change your passwords.

Instead, you stared at the screen, heart quiet in your chest, the room so still you could hear the silence breathe.

Because deep down, you already knew—

He’d been watching long before you ever hit record.

And maybe, just maybe, you were okay with that.

You didn’t speak of the video. Didn’t message him about it. Didn’t scream, didn’t cry, didn’t tell a soul.

You simply watched.

Once. Twice. Then five times more. Each viewing slower, more deliberate, like your silence was a ritual and this was your offering. You examined the shadows for a silhouette. Counted your breaths. Noted how steady the camera was—how intentional.

Someone had filmed you. Someone had been there.

He had been there.

But what unsettled you most wasn’t the invasion. It was how gentle it all was. The way the camera never violated. Never touched. Just witnessed. It wasn’t lewd. It wasn’t violent. It was reverent.

Like love, in its rawest, most unhinged form.

That was the first night you left your window open.

The second night, you wore the sweater you knew he liked—because he always lingered just a second longer in the edits when you wore it. You knew he noticed. DK noticed everything. It was in the way he paused on your fingertips brushing your jaw, or the way he let your inhale echo longer when you were talking about things you loved.

It was devotion. Warped, but careful. It made you feel chosen.

And when you left the camera running overnight, you didn’t label the file. You didn’t need to. By the next morning, it had already been moved. Already edited.

When you opened it, you found yourself sleeping again—same room, same soft rise and fall of your chest—but this time, something had changed.

The footage was warmer. Closer. Your hand had moved in the night, and the lens had followed. A shift in the light revealed the faintest blur of movement in the corner. Not a face. Just the impression of someone sitting near your bed. Waiting.

At the end of the video, he’d added music. A soft, looping instrumental you’d used once in an old vlog. You’d said it made you feel safe. He remembered.

And then—his voice.

“You see me now, don’t you?”

Not a question. A fact.

And you did. In the absence. In the edits. In the invisible fingerprints across your life. You felt him everywhere. You knew his rhythm, his restraint, his fascination with your solitude. And part of you—maybe the part you’d never dared to speak aloud—wanted it.

The next video you sent him was different.

You didn’t speak. You simply stood before the camera, holding eye contact. Still. Unmoving. Like you were letting him look. Really look.

You stayed like that for two minutes.

And when the final edit came back, it was exactly the same. No cuts. No filters. No manipulation.

Just you. Just him. Staring back.

The next file you received wasn’t in the usual folder. It arrived on a flash drive, taped inside a nondescript envelope, no return address.

You found it in your mailbox.

Your name printed in block letters.

Your real name.

The video was darker than the others. Titled only “Home.”

It opened with your front door.

From outside.

Rain dripped down the lens. Your window glowed dimly. Shadows moved inside.

The camera lingered. Patient. Unhurried.

And then the footage changed.

It was your hallway. The inside of your home. The familiar creak of the floorboards, the low hum of your fridge. Footsteps—soft, deliberate, a lover’s cadence.

Then your bedroom.

Your silhouette in bed. Sleeping.

Closer now.

And then—

Your eyes opening.

Not in fear. Not in surprise.

Just… open. As if you’d been expecting this.

The video cut to black.

And in your lap—real, physical, not digital—a note had been tucked inside the envelope.

You unfolded it slowly. Handwriting careful, almost elegant.

I’ll come when you’re ready. But I’m already yours.

You could’ve run.

You could’ve blocked him. Called the police. Changed your locks. Burned your hard drives.

But instead, that night, you lit a candle on your windowsill and left the door unlocked.

And in the quiet that followed, you laid in bed and whispered into the dark—

“…I see you.”

[inkmonster21]

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Part 13

Series Masterlist

Come Ride On Me, I Mean, Camaraderie

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

After what felt like an eternity, filming finally wrapped up, and Hugh prepared to return from the UK. The long-awaited return brought a sense of relief and anticipation, as he looked forward to reuniting with his loved ones and familiar surroundings.

You patiently waited in the car, parked near the arrival area of the airport. The anticipation built as you anxiously counted down the minutes until Hugh's arrival. The reunion was longed for, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you waited to see him once again.

Hugh emerges from the front doors, and before he can even react, you jump out of the car and sprint towards him with a big smile. In a heartbeat, you throw yourself into his arms, giggling with excitement and happiness. Hugh's surprise quickly turns into a warm embrace as he catches you in mid-air, lifting you for a moment before setting you back down on the ground.

Ryan, standing nearby, couldn't help but roll his eyes at the affectionate reunion unfolding before him. With a sarcastic tone, he muttered, "Yeah, sure, not like your brother is right here." Ryan's playful comment expressed a mix of amusement and mild annoyance, highlighting the subtle competitive dynamic between siblings.

Hugh chuckled at Ryan's remark, his smile affectionate yet teasing. He then replied, "Well, Ryan, you better turn away, mate." The words carried a hint of humor, warning his friend about what was going to come next.

Hugh leaned in with a look of affection in his eyes and planted a soft, tender kiss on your lips. The kiss expressed his affection and love for you, a silent gesture conveying his happiness at being reunited after a long time apart. The airport surroundings faded into the background as you both shared the intimate moment.

The much-anticipated album release was fast approaching, and you found yourself in a whirlwind of promotional activities. There was still a mountain of promotional material to film, share, and create, all leading up to the big day. The pressure was on, and your schedule was filled with various interviews, photoshoots, and social media content to complete.

Luckily, Hugh was able to tag along for all the promotional activities, his presence and support providing you with a sense of comfort and reassurance. Having him by your side made the hectic preparations more enjoyable and less overwhelming.

At the grand house where the album release party was scheduled to take place, you found yourself filming a hilarious video intended to promote the event. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the preparations, you and Hugh found time to create a lighthearted and entertaining video, capturing the energy and excitement of the upcoming party.

Hugh held your phone, a mischievous grin on his face as he began his monologue. "Now, to properly host an album release party, you need a few things," he stated, walking through the spacious home.

Hugh walks into the living room, phone in hand, and finds you sitting on the couch applying some lipstick in a small handheld pocket mirror. He clears his throat to gain your attention, and as you look up at the camera, he prompts you with a friendly greeting. "First, you need the host," he says with a smile. You look up and give a charming smile, acknowledging the camera, "Oh, hey! I’m (y/n) Reynolds, and we’re going to show you how to host the most amazing listening party experience."

You descend the grand staircase, leading to the pool and patio bar area. With a sassy wink, you offer some advice. "Second, keep your guest list short and sweet. Hot people only." As you pass by Hugh filming, you punctuate the statement with a playful wink.

In the kitchen, you reach into the oven and pull out the prop ice cream adorned with whipped cream and a cherry. With a charming smile, you explain, "Number three, prepare a sweet treat for your guests." You offer Hugh the cherry, and he quickly pops it into his mouth whilst filming. He then playfully adds, "Because it's called Short n' Sweet." You both share a laugh at his remark, the playful banter setting a lighthearted tone for the promotion video.

You perch yourself on the luxurious balcony, framed by the spectacular backdrop of the setting sun. With a confident smirk, you chime in, "Four. Make sure you have an amazing view." Hugh pans the camera to capture the serene sunset, but you quickly chime in, interjecting with a playful retort. "Um, no. I'm the fucking view. The fuck?" Your words are dripping with sass and humor, adding a touch of attitude for the video.

Hugh stands behind the bar, expertly shaking up a mixed drink in the shaker. You perch on a barstool, adding your own two cents for the fifth item on the list. "Five. Make a special drink for your guests to keep them up all night." Hugh then pours the drink into a glass and passes it to you. As you lift it with a smile, you feign annoyance and playfully drop your smile before saying, "That's that me... Do I really have to say it again?" Your words carry an air of mock resignation, adding another layer of humor.

You watch the final cut of the promotional video, laughing at the lighthearted and playful moments captured. As Megan prepares to share it on TikTok, you can't help but anticipate the response from your fans. You can envision them enjoying the contents, appreciating the humorous banter and the infectious energy shared by both you and Hugh.

The video quickly spreads across TikTok, and as anticipated, your fans devour the content, gushing and giggling at the funny clips and banter between you and Hugh. Comments pour in, filled with praise and amusement.

The much-anticipated night of the album release party had finally arrived, and you were brimming with excitement. The energy in the air was palpable, a mix of anticipation and thrill. The party was a chance to not only celebrate the release of your album but also to connect with your friends and create memorable moments.

The party was in full swing, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the clock ticked closer to 12 AM. The anticipation in the air was undeniable, and you could feel the energy building with every passing minute. The countdown to the album release was near, and the room seemed to hum with a mix of anticipation and anxiety for the moment the album would drop for the world to hear.

You climbed up onto the small stage, and as your presence became visible to all your friends and acquaintances, their cheers filled the room. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nerves as you looked out at the sea of familiar faces, their support and applause propelling you forward.

You stepped onto the stage, taking in the enthusiastic applause from your friends and acquaintances. A genuine smile spread across your face as you spoke, "Wow, I'm seriously speechless." Your voice carried a hint of disbelief and appreciation as you tried to find the right words to express your gratitude and excitement for the occasion.

You paused for a moment, looking out at the crowd of familiar faces. "I just wanted to say a little thank you to all of you for coming," you began, your voice filled with sincere gratitude. "Thank you to my team for helping me with this album. Thank you Ryan for always supporting me," you said, glancing at Ryan with a warm smile. As your gaze shifted to Hugh, a sly smirk tugged at your lips. "And thank you Hugh for the many, many nights of inspiration," you finished with a knowing glimmer in your eye.

Your words were met with laughter and cheers from the crowd, their reaction a testament to the playful banter they had come to expect from you and a sign of their enjoyment of the moment. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you basked in the energy of the room, the laughter and applause fueling your excitement for the evening ahead.

Hugh, standing nearby, raised his glass with a playful wink in response to your words. The gesture was subtle yet full of meaning, a silent message of support and appreciation. The glimmer in his eyes spoke volumes, a reflection of the admiration and connection shared between you both, even amidst the crowd and celebration.

As the clock struck 12, the first song of your album started to play. The upbeat and catchy tune filled the air, its infectious energy seeping into the hearts of the crowd. Everyone soon found themselves dancing and having a blast, the rhythmic beats and captivating lyrics igniting a dance party that filled the space with pure joy and celebration.

As you danced with Hugh, the current song playing was a love letter to him. The lyrics spoke of love, admiration, and the special bond you shared. You intertwined your movements with his, your eyes locked on each other as you swayed to the melody, expressing the depth of your feelings through dance. The song served as a soundtrack to your connection, a tangible representation of the love that filled both your hearts.

As the song played, the lyrics echoed in Hugh’s mind like a sweet melody. The words "Who’s the cute boy in the white jacket with the thick accent?" played on repeat, a clear reference to himself. Hugh couldn’t help but smile at the mention, feeling a mix of warmth and a hint of flattery at being immortalized in your music.

Hugh felt his hands instinctively tighten around your waist as the next song started playing. The lyrics were overtly explicit and unabashedly confident, fueling a mix of excitement and desire. "One of me is cute but two though? Give it to me baby" echoed through the room, the seductive words creating an intimate and charged atmosphere. Hugh couldn’t help but wonder what inspired such a bold and alluring track, his fingers digging into your waist as if trying to possess you in that very moment.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the hardness of his erection against your thigh. "Just for a little while. I want you all to myself."

You didn't need any more convincing. The anticipation of being alone with Hugh, away from prying eyes, made your heart race. With a quick nod, you excused yourself from your guests, taking Hugh's hand and leading him through the corridors.

The luxurious home offered countless private spaces, but Hugh had a destination in mind. He guided you to a secluded study, its walls lined with rich mahogany bookshelves. Closing the door behind you, he pressed you against it, his strong body trapping you in a sensual embrace.

"I've been waiting all night to do this," he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. His lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he tasted the sweetness of your mouth. You moaned into his kiss, your hands gripping his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles.

Hugh's hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve. He cupped your breasts through your dress, his thumbs teasing your nipples to hardness. You arched into his touch, craving more. His fingers deftly undid the zipper of your dress, letting it slide to the floor, leaving you standing in nothing but your lacy black lingerie.

"You're stunning," he murmured, his eyes raking over your exposed body. He traced the lace of your bra with his fingertips, making you shiver as he teased the sensitive skin beneath. "I love seeing you like this, all mine."

You reached for his belt, eager to return the favor. With practiced ease, you unbuckled it, your fingers brushing against the bulge in his pants. He was hard and ready, his cock straining against the fabric. You knelt before him, the hardwood floor cool against your knees, and took his length into your hands.

Hugh's breath caught as you stroked him slowly, your fingers exploring the length and girth of his shaft.

You teased the tip with your thumb, spreading the pre-cum glistening there, before taking him into your mouth. His taste exploded on your tongue, and you savored the feel of his cock sliding between your lips.

He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding your head as you took him deeper. You reveled in the power you held over him, the way he surrendered to your touch. His hips moved in a gentle rhythm, fucking your mouth as you sucked and licked, bringing him closer to the edge.

"I want to feel you," he panted, pulling away from your lips. He lifted you to your feet, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. "I need to be inside you."

You were more than willing. You climbed onto the study desk, the smooth wood cool against your bare skin. Hugh stood between your legs, his eyes dark with lust as he admired your open invitation. He hooked your thighs over his strong arms, positioning himself at your entrance.

With one smooth thrust, he filled you, his thick cock stretching you deliciously. You gasped at the sensation, your head falling back as pleasure radiated from your core. Hugh's hips moved in a slow, torturous rhythm, each stroke hitting your sweet spot, making you moan and beg for more.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, giving him leverage to pound into you with increasing force. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure.

You matched his rhythm, meeting each thrust with a hungry grind of your hips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, leaving marks on his skin as you clung to him. The friction between your bodies built, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins.

Hugh's eyes locked with yours, his gaze intense as he drove into you. "I love watching you come undone," he growled. "Hearing you scream my name."

His words sent a shockwave of desire through you. You were close, so close, and his relentless pounding pushed you further towards the edge. Your orgasm built, a coiled spring ready to snap. "Hugh!" you cried out, your voice hoarse from pleasure. "I'm going to—"

Just as you were about to climax, he pulled out, his cock glistening with your juices. You whimpered in protest, craving release. Hugh's eyes sparkled with mischief as he rounded the desk and sat in the chair. He waves you over with his fingers, “Come ride on me.”

You smirked with smudged lips and desire-filled eyes. You didn’t waste time crawling on top of Hugh, thighs secured on either side of him. His members dipped in your wetness.

You grabbed his shoulder and sat down on him. As he entered you again, his hands gripped your hips as he thrusts up, meeting your rhythm. The change in angle sent a new wave of pleasure through your body.

You moaned, your head tossed back, your body trembling with the force of his thrusts as he met yours. Hugh's fingers found your clit, rubbing it in circles as he fucked you, pushing you closer to the brink.

"Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice a rough whisper in your ear. "Let me feel that tight pussy milking my cock." His dirty words were the final push you needed. Your orgasm exploded, rippling through your body like an electric current. You cried out, your muscles clenching around his shaft, milking him as he continued to thrust. Hugh groaned, his own release building as he felt the walls of your pussy pulsating around him.

With a final, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, his hot cum filling your hole. You could feel his pulse as he came, his cock twitching within you. He collapsed in the seat, hands still on your hips, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

You sat there, sated and exhausted, your bodies still joined, the evidence of your passion dripping down your thighs. The explicit lyrics of your song continued to play in the background, a fitting soundtrack to the raw, primal acts you had just committed.

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

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[brotherwtf]

new au bcs... anyway

Gale is in his late 20s and having a quarter life crisis, and so the only logical thing to do is to start doing porn

he could just start doing stuff by himself, maybe an only fans or something, but he decides to just full balls to the wall and start doing stuff with people, probably even with a company

a friend of a friend recommends this little group that makes porn videos that Gale can go talk to, gives him their insta or whatever so he can coordinate and finds out that before he can start actually making proper vids with them he's gonna have to do a "dry run" with one of their actors, you know, just to see what the vibe is, which of course Gale agrees to

he meets the other actor at a hotel, and oh my fucking God, he's hot, the hottest person Gale has ever seen and he's going to be filming a video with him? he couldn't believe it, tall and muscular, beautiful brown hair with a sculpted face and a smile that felt almost sinful and Gale introduces himself almost shyly and the man introduces himself as Bucky, technically John but no one calls him that

they chat briefly before John pulls out a handheld video camera, tells Gale to just relax and just be himself, tells him if at any point he needs to tap out or take a break he needs to tell John and they'll stop right away, and Gale honestly can't wait to get to work, especially with John

it's easy, honestly, with John because Gale is so insanely attracted to him, it also helps that he has a massive cock and when Gale pulls his boxers off he grins, shoving it down his throat and making good eyes to John, not the camera

and when John fucks him he's sweet, so sweet considering his cock is touching Gale's guts, telling Gale he's doing such a good job, taking it so well, all with his voice a little weathered and gasping, and Gale finds he doesn't even have to pretend that much, not with John at least

after they both come with embarrassingly real moans, John just laughs in disbelief, pushing his hair back when he sits on his calves, and Gale just looks at him a little confused

"I think I just fell in love," John says and Gale laughs, tossing his head back and no shit laughs

"hopefully we can do this again sometime," Gale says and he loves the way John goes red before smiling sinisterly

"you can count on it"

[gnarlyyy]

PARTY4U  is  the  second  pre-debut  single  of  the  up-and-coming  MYDOL  girl  group,  G-GIRLZ.  They  would  promote  the  digital  single  for  three  weeks  as  well  as  their  previously  released  track,  GNARLY.

Yes,  finally,  after  two  months  of  heavy  speculation  and  leaks  online,  G-GIRLZ  finally  revealed  their  official  group  name  and  debut  date  at  the  end  of  their  PARTY4U  music  video...

As  you  can  imagine,  stan  twitter  had  a  lot  to  say  about  it!

TAKE A SCREENSHOT TO GET YOUR PARTY4U PC!

“We  didn’t  storyboard  it.  We  built  a  house  and  let  the  night  unfold.”  —  Son  Roan,  MV  Director,  on  filming  “party4u”

The  "party4u"  MV  isn’t  structured  like  a  traditional  music  video.  It’s  a  voyeuristic,  damn  near  clusterfuck,  drift  through  a  house  that  feels  like  the  center  of  the  universe  for  exactly  one  night.  The  camera  is  your  only  guide,  tipsy  and  uninvited,  always  a  few  seconds  late  to  the  drama.  There’s  no  plot,  but  there  are  stories.

Shot  mostly  handheld,  with  a  grain  filter  and  blown-out  lighting,  the  video  follows  a  single  continuous  motion  through  the  rooms  of  a  party  you’ve  seen  on  TV  before:  sweaty,  messy,  and  a  little  bit  sad.

“Each  member  of  TACK13  has  their  own  arc,  but  none  of  them  get  a  resolution.  That’s  the  point.”

Geni  is  introduced  mid-argument.  She  and  Hyun  of  ISSAYAH  stand  in  the  kitchen,  yelling  at  one  another  and  causing  the  people  around  them  to  either  stare  or  scurry  off.  The  volume  of  the  video  drops  just  enough  for  viewers  to  catch  words  like  “again?”  and  “you  came  with  her?”

The  camera  swings  wide  whenever  it  gets  too  close,  like  it’s  scared  of  them.  Their  fight  continues  silently  across  rooms:  matching  each  other’s  steps  on  the  dance  floor,  locking  eyes  when  they  think  no  one’s  watching.

Later,  Geni’s  seen  resting  her  head  on  Hyun's  shoulder  as  he  silently  smokes  a  cigarette.  She  has  mascara  stains  on  her  cheeks  as  she  blankly  stares  ahead.  When  Hyun  takes  a  drag,  he  uses  his  free  hand  to  bring  Geni's  to  his  lips,  a  small  yet  gentle  act  of  intimacy  for  the  turbulent  couple.

“It  was  all  them.  We  didn't  plan  any  of  it.  They  legitimately  fought  on  set  and  made  up  that  night.  It  was  perfect  for  what  we  were  going  for,  but  also  terrifying  to  be  around.”

Navi  is  the  most  romanticized  character  in  the  MV.  She’s  introduced  alone,  dancing  in  the  kitchen  in  a  glittery  mesh  top,  headphones  on  while  everyone  else  is  tuned  into  the  party.  The  camera  lingers  on  her  as  she  twirls  with  a  wine  bottle  in  hand.

She  locks  eyes  with  Yonghyung.  Their  scenes  are  quiet,  warm,  always  framed  with  candles  or  ambient  glow.  They  keep  passing  each  other:  once  in  the  hallway  (where  he  moves  aside  without  speaking),  once  at  the  fridge  (where  she  closes  it  before  he  can  grab  a  drink),  and  once  on  the  stairs,  where  they  finally  pause,  faces  inches  apart.

But  they  don’t  kiss.  He  gets  a  text,  glances  at  it,  and  leaves.  She  watches  him  go,  smile  fading.

Later,  during  the  bridge,  Hwihun  walks  up  to  her  on  the  back  porch  and  offers  her  a  jacket.  She  declines.

“Navi’s  plot  is  about  never  arriving.  The  party  is  full  of  people  but  she’s  stuck  in  a  loop  with  someone  who  keeps  missing  the  moment.”

The  house  party  is  at  full  volume, the bass  bleeding  through  the  walls,  laughter  overlapping.  But  when  we  cut  to  Finn,  seated  on  a  velvet  couch  with  Minsi  on  his  left  and  Eme  on  his  right,  the  music  dips.  Not  completely.  Just  enough  for  you  to  hear  the  shift  in  energy.  It’s  a  controlled  silence,  like  you’re  holding  your  breath.

The  camera  takes  on  a  voyeuristic  quality  here.  It  doesn’t  try  to  be  objective.  It  picks  sides.  Then  switches.

Minsi’s  leg  is  crossed  tightly,  one  manicured  hand  on  Finn’s  arm.  Eme’s  posture  is  relaxed,  fingers  twirling  a  straw  in  her  drink.  Finn  is…  neutral.  Unaware,  or  pretending  to  be.  But  the  girls  clock  each  other  with  every  movement.  Eme  leans  in  to  say  something.  Minsi  laughs  louder  over  her.  Minsi  pours  Finn  a  drink.  Eme  takes  it  and  offers  it  to  him  first.

Later  in  the  MV,  the  camera  transitions  into  the  bathroom—warm  lighting,  soft  echo.  Eme  and  Minsi  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  front  of  the  mirror.  Silent.  Both  fixing  their  makeup.

Minsi  blots  her  lipstick  too  hard,  leaving  a  faint  smear  on  her  chin.  Eme  notices.  Doesn’t  say  anything.  Just  watches.

Minsi  glances  sideways.  She  knows.

During  the  bridge,  we  see  Finn  again.  This  time  alone  on  the  stairs,  scrolling  his  phone.  The  party  roars  behind  him.

Neither  girl  is  in  sight.  But  the  camera  lingers  long  enough  for  you  to  wonder  who  he’s  thinking  about.

“We  never  confirmed  who  Finn  liked.  That  wasn’t  the  point.  The  point  was  that  both  girls  were  performing  until  it  stopped  being  a  performance.”

Akiko  starts  the  MV  off  lowkey.  She’s  introduced  in  the  background  of  someone  else’s  scene,  fixing  her  lipstick  in  the  hallway  mirror,  barely  in  frame.  For  a  while,  she  blends  in.  Until  she  doesn’t.

Midway  through  the  MV,  she’s  spotted  slipping  into  a  closed-off  bedroom  where  Londyn  and  Hajin  had  been  hanging  out  earlier.  It  cuts  to  her  rifling  through  someone’s  makeup  bag,  smirking  to  herself  as  she  applies  a  silver  eyeshadow  that  doesn’t  belong  to  her.

She  walks  back  out  and  ends  up  sharing  a  cigarette  on  the  balcony  with  Juni.  There’s  no  dialogue,  just  overlapping  laughter  from  the  party  behind  them  and  Akiko  staring  off  into  the  night,  totally  still,  as  Juni  watches  her.

“Akiko  has  the  smallest  storyline,  but  she’s  the  most  deliberate.  She’s  always  slightly  off-angle,  like  she  knows  she’s  being  filmed  and  doesn’t  care.”

Harin’s  entrance  is  theatrical.  She  appears  in  the  bathroom  doorway  in  full  glam,  tossing  her  coat  onto  someone’s  lap  and  stepping  over  Kaori  and  Kaleina  mid-fight  over  aux.

She  makes  eye  contact  with  Zion,  smirks,  and  deliberately  sits  next  to  Chloe  on  the  couch.  Chloe  looks  pissed  off,  looking  at  Harin  and  asking  'Who  is  this?'  over  the  music.  Harin  smirks  at  the  camera,  showing  her  chunky  and  extravagant  nails.

Throughout  the  night,  Harin’s  the  girl  people  whisper  about.  We  catch  glimpses  of  her  laughing  with  Hanjae  of  Loopin  in  the  hallway  mirror,  then  slow  dancing  dramatically  with  Drew  in  a  scene  too  glamorous  for  the  rest  of  the  video.

Near  the  end,  we  see  her  by  herself  in  the  laundry  room—smeared  mascara,  silk  dress  stained,  staring  at  her  reflection  like  she  just  lost  something.

“Harin  was  the  most  powerful  girl  in  the  house  until  the  very  last  scene.  We  wanted  her  to  feel  like  the  aftermath  of  something.  She’s  the  kind  of  girl  who  ruins  a  party  by  existing  too  loudly  and  then  vanishes  before  you  can  ask  why  she’s  crying.”

Ayun  and  Nami  are  introduced  dancing  together  on  the  couch,  passing  a  vape  back  and  forth,  hands  tracing  collarbones.  Their  chemistry  is  undeniable.  Everyone  in  the  room  sees  it.

But  then  London  walks  in.  Nami  doesn’t  even  explain;  she  just  disappears  from  the  shot.

Ayun  stares  after  her,  then  shrugs  it  off  and  keeps  dancing.  But  the  camera  catches  her  slipping  into  the  bathroom  later  to  sit  on  the  edge  of  the  tub  and  cry.

Baebi  and  Jiah  slow  dance  under  a  hallway  light  with  pink  film  grain  floating  over  them  like  dust.  Their  joy  is  infectious,  but  it  is  framed  narrowly.

Noah  and  Blue  sit  on  the  rooftop  smoking,  silent.  The  camera  lingers  in  the  stillness.

Hajin  and  Londyn  are  soaked  by  a  garden  hose  under  fairy  lights,  caught  in  overexposed  lens  flares.

Juni,  Yonghyung,  and  Hwihun  are  filmed  through  fogged  mirrors  and  iPhone  flashes  in  a  neon-lit  bathroom.

Kaleina  and  Kaori  scream  into  a  busted  mic  under  garage  light,  the  camera  jerking  with  their  movement.

Hanjae  skates  through  the  hall  as  if  the  party  is  happening  around  him  in  a  different  dimension.

Ania  is  framed  like  a  painting,  champagne  glass  in  hand,  never  speaking.

It’s  past  3AM  now.  The  beat  is  slower,  warped.  Half  the  guests  are  gone.  The  floor  is  sticky.  The  camera  drifts  from  room  to  room,  soft  and  dazed,  like  it’s  forgotten  what  it  came  for.

THIS  IS  THE  COME  DOWN...

Noah  and  Blue  sit  shoulder-to-shoulder,  passing  a  cigarette  without  looking  at  each  other.  They’re  bathed  in  dull  blue  light.  The  skyline  blinks  behind  them.

Zion  leans  against  the  front  door,  eyes  on  his  phone.  Chloe  walks  past  him,  jacket  on,  heels  in  hand.  He  doesn’t  stop  her.  She  doesn’t  look  back.

The  bathroom’s  abandoned  now.  The  lights  flicker.  Ayun  sits  in  the  dry  tub  with  her  knees  drawn  up  to  her  chest,  still  wearing  her  full  makeup.  There’s  a  glitter-streaked  ring  around  the  porcelain,  like  someone  cried  there  earlier.  Maybe  her.  Maybe  not.

She  mouths  along  to  the  outro  of  the  song,  barely  audible.

Outside,  Minsi  sits  on  the  porch  steps,  wrapped  in  someone  else’s  coat.  Her  eyes  are  glassy.  She’s  not  drunk.  She’s  exhausted.  In  the  background,  silhouettes  dance  through  an  upstairs  window,  but  she  doesn’t  look  up.

The  camera  catches  a  small  detail:  her  nails  chipped,  her  phone  screen  cracked,  the  bracelet  Eme  wore  earlier  now  on  her  wrist.

Inside,  Eme  is  alone.  The  same  couch  from  earlier,  where  she  and  Minsi  had  sat  with  Finn.  Now  just  her.  She’s  scrolled  too  far  back  in  her  camera  roll.  Her  phone  lights  her  face  with  something  like  regret.

No  words.  Just  the  door  opening.  Hyun  walks  out  first.  Geni  follows  a  few  seconds  later.  She  doesn’t  take  his  hand,  but  she  walks  beside  him.

The  camera  catches  it  through  the  window.  Framed  like  a  secret

Sitting  on  the  kitchen  counter,  legs  swinging.  Baebi  traces  hearts  on  Drew's  thigh  with  an  empty  eyeliner  pen.  They’re  whispering  something  neither  of  them  will  remember  tomorrow.

Londyn  sneaks  out  through  the  back,  stilettos  in  hand,  wearing  a  hoodie.  Her  lipstick’s  still  perfect.  She  disappears  into  a  waiting  cab.

Nami  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  phone  to  her  ear.  No  one  picks  up.  Her  lipstick  is  smudged  like  someone  kissed  her  mid-sentence.

Juni  is  still  in  the  foggy  pink  bathroom,  alone  now.  She  uses  her  lipstick  to  scribble  a  heart  onto  the  mirror  and  walks  away,  leaving  the  room  empty  and  foggy.

Yonghyung  &  Hwihun  push  each  other  on  a  shopping  cart  outside  the  house.  Laughing  like  they  didn’t  witness  five  emotional  breakdowns  an  hour  ago.

Kaori  &  Kaleina  still  scream  over  the  karaoke  mic  in  the  garage.  Everyone  else  has  left  the  room.  The  power  cuts  out  mid-line.  They  continue  to  perform  as  if  they're  on  an  actual  stage.

Ania  is  still  in  that  silent,  gold-lit  room.  This  time,  the  camera  slowly  pushes  in.  She’s  seated  exactly  the  same.  The  only  thing  that’s  changed  is  us.

On  the  staircase,  Akiko  leans  on  the  banister.  She's  the  only  one  looking  directly  at  the  camera.

She  sips  from  a  half-full  glass,  tilts  her  head  like  she  knows  something  no  one  else  does,  and  smirks.

The  front  door  swings  open  again.  The  camera  stumbles  backward  out  of  it.  Someone  (whom  we  never  see)  throws  a  handful  of  glitter.  It  hits  the  lens.  Everything  blurs.

Then  black.

MASSIVE THANK YOU TO ALL THE CREATORS OF THE OCS MENTIONED ! @venusvity @toointoo @bluwavez @bleumae @iissayah @snspice @hrtbrkrz @dreamdate @daecheonsa

[that-fall-guy]

"The Search" - a webweave for Room 3 of @mcytblrescape !!

Wild Life sources: clock, "Ohne Titel (Geldig)" by Kurt Schwitters, "Aucassin Seeks for Nicolette" by Maxfield Parrish, "Tamarisk Trees in Early Sunlight" by Guy Rose, window, blue flower, green flower, pink flower, pink flowers, camera, "Starting Fires" by Bears in Trees, "Like Real People Do" by Hozier, "Puppet Loosely Strung" by the Correspondents

Pirates & Rats 2 sources: clock, "Merzzeichnung in Merzzeichnung" by Kurt Schwitters, stamps, books, trinket tin, crystal skull, "14 Verses" by Declan Bennett, "Farewell Wanderlust" by the Amazing Devil, "Gods & Monsters" by Lana del Rey

New Life sources: clock, "20 Ore mit Koranseiten" by Kurt Schwitters, "Snow-Covered Landscape" by Guillaume Vogels, tamagotchi, camera, hat, backpack, "I Could Never Be" from Steven Universe, "Tread on Me" by Matt Maeson

Ultimate Survival SMP sources: clock, "C 50 Last Birds and Flowers" by Kurt Schwitters, "Ceylonese Jungle" by Hermann von Konigsbrunn, bear, beetle, moth, crown, gloves, vined hand, "King" by Lauren Aquilina, "I Just Don't Care That Much" by Matt Maeson

Limited & Secret Life sources: clock, "Spitzbergen Merzzeichnung" by Kurt Schwitters, "She came to the blue sea-ocean" by Ivan Bilibin, bird, letter, fish, cassette, "Queen of Nothing" by the Crane Wives, "What's a Devil to Do" by Harley Poe, "14 Verses" by Declan Bennett, "Bullet" by Saint Motel

Rats sources: clock, "Zeichnung I 9 Hebel 2" by Kurt Schwitters, "Candles" by Gerhard Richter, "Sunflower Seeds" by Ai Weiwei, band-aid tin, bazooka gum, amethyst geode, amethyst crystal, socks, tag, knife, "Puppet Loosely Strung" by the Correspondents, "What's a Devil to Do" by Harley Poe

Double Life sources: clock, "Mz x 21 Street" by Kurt Schwitters, "Loup Scar, Wharfdale" by Richard Jack, coin, coffin, cat in moon, bottle cap, receipt, "Honeybee" by Steam Powered Giraffe, "the broken hearts club" by gnash

Last Life sources: clock, "Merz 30, 42" by Kurt Schwitters, "Trees and Church Tower" by Raymond McIntyre, mask, locket, clover, scarecrow and rabbit, "Whispering Grass" by the Ink Spots, "How to Rest" by the Crane Wives

3rd Life sources: clock, "Sans Titre" by Kurt Schwitters, "Forest and Dove" by Max Ernst, window, heart, pomegranate, stamp, fox, "14 Verses" by Declan Bennett, "Honeybee" by Steam Powered Giraffe

Evo sources: clock, "Ohne Titel" by Kurt Schwitters, "The man with the cart" by Ivan Grohar, pearls, stars, window, feather, dog, "Rule #9 - Child of the Stars" by Fish in a Birdcage, "Dancing After Death" by Matt Maeson

Finale-unique sources: tv, warning window, video player, error tabs, handheld game console, progress bar, axe, "The Circle Maker" by Sparkbird, "The Mask" by Matt Maeson

All skins from namemc; all stereo pngs from this post. As I'm sure you can tell, this is a hell of a source list, so I apologize if I linked anything incorrectly or managed to forget something!

[starseneyes]

Buddie - Evan Buckley + Eddie Diaz - 8x17 - Kitchen Scene - Meta

I promised myself I wasn't gonna do this, damnit. I don't have time to dig into every ounce of lore.

But, I kept thinking about the kitchen scene on a long drive. This, of course, meant pulling out my phone to video record my thoughts because I was driving.

And I was thinking about how this was the Buddie scene of the last few episodes and how it's what we really have to chew on during the hiatus. And I have thoughts.

SPOILERS: I doubt many people here haven't seen 8x17, but I'm putting everything under the Keep Reading widget just in case.

Ready to dive into a way-too-long single-scene Meta? Let's!

Let's start with Eddie walking into the room wearing yet another jacket. He's been in layers often in the show, but what caught my eye was how Eddie immediately removed said jacket when he walked into the kitchen.

He's wearing his armor when he's out of the house—feigning fine when inside he's roiling as much as Buck, begging for his best friend to play his usual role and draw him out.

But Buck's trying to live out his interpretation of his father figure's last words—and that's spun him out. Bobby said they'd need him, right? But he feels like nobody needs him.

Instead of having open conversation, he's hyperfocusing on numbers and assessments and feeling like all signs point to, "They're fine". But nobody is fucking fine. Least of all Eddie "I'm a 12" Diaz.

The first shot shows us Eddie walking in. The camera is already unsteady, shaky, bearing the weight of the tension building in that room long before Eddie entered.

The warmth is drained of the kitchen. Nothing on the fridge or counters to suggest personality.

It's clinical. Like an operating table waiting for the blood to spatter as the surgeon makes the first cut. That won't take long.

Then we do something that I love that is acceptable in TV but somehow not acceptable to any of my teachers in my short stories—we shift POV. Our point-of-view goes from establishing the room to taking on Eddie's vantage as he walks in.

We're still on a purposefully-unsteady steady cam, feeling handheld and raw—like the nerves of the two men inhabiting the too small space—forced to wander the perimeter in awkward moves like mice squeezing through a maze without direction.

"Said I was gonna get the groceries." "I was out. It's fine."

And the conflict of the scene—that isn't the real conflict—is established.

Now, folks have commented that Eddie doesn't walk into the room with groceries, though he said he'd pick them up. My guess is that he planned to borrow Buck's car to grab them and has been Pepa-taxi-ing and Ubering around Los Angeles.

As someone who visited Los Angeles recently—that shit is expensive. I rented a bloody car rather than do that and my last visit only lasted 36 hours.

But Eddie wasn't planning on staying long, so my bet is he's relying on the mighty app. So, mayhaps he thought they'd share dinner and awkward silence before he did a grocery run using Buck's car after-shift.

But here's Buck with all the groceries in nondescript paper bags—so easily ripped and torn. Now, paper bags can be great if you know how to hold them properly. But when I first started using them, I tore every. single. one.

You have to do it right. Handle with care. But both of these humans are powderkegs at the moment—one with the canon pointed inward and the other aiming out.

Buck finishes at the one cabinet and moves clear across the room as Eddie pours himself a cup of coffee. Ordinarily, these two are magnets, drawn to one another naturally. But, now the polarity of the magnets have shifted, and they're naturally repelling one another.

It's instinctive—how Buck moves to the other side of the room before Eddie can align them. Yes, Eddie's poking Buck with his comment, but Buck's response is non-commital and passive aggressive.

Neither is handling this "communicating" thing, well. Not that they should, after all. This is supposed to be a scene fraught with heartache and heartbreak and the chasm of grief that often separates us from those we love most.

But it illustrates the point that Eddie and Buck are already walking on eggshells around one another, neither knowing what to say.

In the past, Eddie's house was a safe place for Buck. He could run there when Maddie's mothering was overwhelming or when his boyfriend broke his heart. For Eddie, Buck's presence was so natural that by Season 8A Buck could waltz in without a knock.

And while the walls remain—the foundational bones of a building—the house doesn't feel the same. Because where before one could anchor the other, both are unmoored.

Now, this is an interesting time to note—Buck is torn between being a petty bitch and still wanting to take care of Eddie.

There is no coffee mug out for Buck. So, when he got home with the groceries, he likely brewed a fresh pot of coffee before he started unloading them. Upset as he is—and his protest-buying of the groceries is a manifestation of that—he still instinctively wants to take care of Eddie.

And Eddie's still here for Buck.

We can pretend it's Aunt Pepa, like he said, but the real reason Eddie Diaz hasn't gone home is that things are wrong between him and the second-most important person in his life.

For so long, Eddie has thought his world was a single person—his son. But as the show wears on, the cracks reveal that there are two people that are his world—and one of them has completely closed himself off.

Buck is spiraling, let's be clear. Some spirals are easy to spot. But I went through an entire Post Partum Depression for six months after the birth of my twins and not one person noticed because I'm so good at masking.

And Eddie knows Buck well enough to spot it. He just has no idea how to pull him out because Eddie's instincts are always to wait for the other person to come to him—and too often he waits too long.

Here, Eddie is trying to draw Buck out. This is his best attempt at breaking through the noise to try to get something out of Buck. Because his best friend is internalizing and spiraling. And he does almost everything wrong.

In this scene, I'm an Eddie. My husband is a Buck. It sucked in our early arguments as we learned how to better handle my inherited temper and his instinct to shut down and internalize.

So I feel like Eddie is poking to try to get Buck to share what's really going on, because even Eddie Diaz knows this is not about the groceries.

"Doesn't feel like it's fine."

Because it's not. Buck sneaks a look at him, because he was hoping Eddie was going to say something. He was hoping Eddie was going to spill. He was hoping Eddie was going to talk to him.

These two keep expecting the other to act like a partner while telling themselves they're just friends.

Eddie didn't tell Buck about looking at real estate in El Paso. Buck didn't tell Eddie about adopting a dog. Eddie didn't tell Buck about getting the job in El Paso.

They're going back and forth and back and forth, but this time the hot potato is a grenade. And time's running out.

Buck finally turns to face him.

"I heard you finally got the call from El Paso Fire. Congratulations."

Again, passive aggressive. He's making it clear to Eddie that he heard this from someone else. Not from him. And Eddie immediately panics, freezing momentarily.

The whole thing is couple coded—I made this huge decisions without consulting you, dear—but it's worse because Eddie already left. This just solidifies his life really is somewhere else—away from Buck. And Buck wanted to hear it from him.

Look, I give Eddie credit for keeping Buck tied into his life while he's been in El Paso. Yes, Buck has had a lot of people leave him, contributing to his trauma and abandonment issues.

But Eddie kept him tied in through constant FaceTimes—because it's "serious"—and almost all major decisions regarding his (*cough* their *cough*) son.

So why didn't he clue Buck in on this one?

Oh, something must be wrong with Buck. There must be something off or broken about him that he can't be trusted. Buck's thinking it.

That's where the "all about you" comes in for me.

Buck isn't selfish in that he thinks the world's love and light revolves around him. No, he is self-focused because he was never loved as a child for who he was, so he internalizes any conflict around him as his fault.

Buck can't process the loss of his Father Figure because he thinks the way to do that is honor Bobby's last words—but they aren't aligning with what Buck is seeing around him. So, he's spiraling.

He truly thinks he's not worth staying for. Not worth being honest with. Not worth keeping. It's part of why he tries so hard in life to take care of the people around him.

Because if these people chose him, by God, he's going to choose them back ten times harder to try to keep them. He doesn't realize he doesn't have to try. He's never internalized the fact that they love him for him.

Not because he's "Buck, the guy with the answers" or "Buck, the guy who likes to fix things". Buck has no idea they love him because he's "Buck".

No qualifiers. They love him for who he is.

But he can't see that. So, he spins and spirals and thinks he's a burden, so he won't reach out. But by shutting everyone out and approaching everything clinically, he's lost the connection they all need so much.

When Buck (briefly) lost his job as a firefighter, he was drifting. He couldn't understand that this was a family. But in the aftermath of Bobby's death, he feels like his family is fractured and he can't pull them together.

He feels like he's failed them. And in that way, he's not seeing the full picture. He's only seeing his failure and not their shared grief.

And all his best friend/situationship wants is to draw him out so they can share this. So they can get through this together. So he can help Buck the way that Buck has helped him so many times.

But Eddie has no idea how to begin, and their worn nerves are growing more exposed by the chasm between them, straining from stretching as they pull further apart.

Eddie's now on the defensive, and that's already a bad place for Eddie—because he'll fight back harder to get himself out of the corner.

Now, I'm not excusing the shit Eddie's about to pull—and by that I mean the verbal jabs that that little shit knows are going to hurt—but looking for where it originates. "He's a fighter," Buck once said to Chris after his Dad had been shot.

Oh, those words are forever true for Edmundo Diaz.

"Who told you?"

And then Buck digs in a little. Because he's hurting. Because he's frustrated. He goes through the whole list, spoiling the Surprise Party as he goes, because he's hurt and feeling petty.

This all stems from Buck never truly feeling settled with those he loves. He's always waiting for them to abandon him, to forget him, to forsake him.

His insecurities are fed by the fact that he still doesn't see himself as a part of the ecosystem or organism of their Found Family. He views himself as a grafted piece that never takes.

He doesn't understand that he's loved and cherished and intricately woven into the same tapestry as they all are, the threads intersecting and overlapping in ways that bind them to one another.

He can't see it. And so he lashes out a bit, here, going step-by-step through the perceived betrayal.

"I was gonna tell you." "But you didn't, did you?"

Eddie is slightly out of focus as he says this, just coming into focus. Everything feels off and wrong and foreign in the best of ways.

Let's be clear—camera work is a fucking art. Some people go to school for it. Some people learn it on-the-job. But the camera crew is often under appreciated, and this team is showing off in the best way.

We're getting a feast, loves, of little choices that help lead us on an emotional journey through this scene. That's mastery.

Eddie's brow furrows at Buck's words. He can feel the heat coming off of Buck, at last.

There's something besides the blank "everything is okay" mask Buck's been wearing for the past few weeks. The porcelain's beginning to crack, and Eddie can see the flesh beneath.

But Buck's words aren't about Bobby. They're about them. This isn't what Eddie wanted to discuss. Maybe that feeds into why he waited so long to tell Buck—he wanted them to be in a good place, first.

But there's no space to breathe in a room quickly filling with the smog of their grief and misplaced frustration. Buck moves ahead with his head-canon—everyone thinks something's wrong with me.

Eddie tries to distance himself from it. He knows he is frustrated and he's trying to put space between him and Buck as he simmers.

"Instead everyone's been tip-toeing around behind my back 'cause apparently I'm too fragile to accept the truth."

They are now on opposite sides of the room, the table separating them, cutting them off from one another. A physical representation of the emotional block preventing them from coming together in a time of shared grief.

Between them, a bag of groceries on the table. But it was never about the groceries.

"Can you blame us? Look how you're acting now." "You really think I'd wouldn't have been happy for you?"

Eddie thinks he's being factual—he hasn't yet turned to wordplay as weaponry—but it plays into Buck's fears. Because people who go around him can just so easily move away.

Buck's always afraid that he isn't worth staying for, not worth keeping. Eddie is afraid he's too broken to be the support anyone else needs.

And, God, they need each other, here. Not in a romantic way, no. But because nobody in the world understands the other like him.

Eddie once chided Buck that well as he knows his sister, Maddie, there are ways Chimney knows her that Buck never will. Buck and Eddie are each other's person. No matter what else they will be on this show, that is a fact.

Eddie is ill-equipped to be what Buck needs in this moment because the roles are reversed—Buck repressing and Eddie desperately wanting to draw him out.

He's never learned how to be a partner in that way. We can see from all of his relationships that he's a runner, not someone who digs in and learns how to do it better. So he's going to fuck this up.

And that's going to play into Buck's fears.

Again, he's internalizing that Eddie must think the worst about him. But Eddie doesn't understand that's what Buck is doing. He doesn't know where that comes from—the source of him sometimes acting out and getting it wrong.

It comes from a lack of self-worth, not an over-abundance of self-esteem.

Yes, both have to do with an unhealthy centering of self, but Eddie doesn't fully understand and Buck can't fully articulate.

And right now, neither is in a place to dive in that deep. No, they're too busy tearing at the flesh of the still-wounded animal within, slowly bleeding out from an unhealed wound.

"No, I know you wouldn't be. You'd make it all about you. The trials and tribulations of Evan Buckley. A tragedy in 97 acts."

The most dramatic line ever uttered by the resident King of Sass, but it's more than that.

Where Buck was poking with his remarks about the El Paso job, Eddie is jabbing Buck with a knife. He's cutting into Buck's deepest vulnerabilities trying to elicit a response—to get him to fight back.

But that's not Buck's style. Right now, Eddie is pushing because that is what he needs. It's not what Buck needs. And right now Eddie's hurting too much to see that.

So, his words that normally weave together Buck's wounds tear them further open.

Notably, after this line is when Eddie rounds the table, putting him and Buck on the same side. He pulls back from the jabs, trying to speak plainly.

"You've been spiraling since the funeral and no one knows how to talk to you about it."

But Buck's still hurting from the last comment, the one before. So he responds with a jab of his own.

"Sorry I'm sad that Bobby's dead."

The implication is clear—you're not sad, Mr. "I scored a 12".

Because grief can't be measured on a scale. It comes in waves and crashes. It bowls you over in moments when you're feeling fine and drags you under when you least expect.

And right now it overflows in Eddie Diaz.

PAUSE: I understand there are those who were triggered by this interaction and I do not wish to make light of anything. From my perspective, Eddie was not going to hurt Buck and Buck was in zero danger, but please know that does not in any way suggest I think my opinion invalidates your lived-in experience or understanding of the scene.

He grabs onto Buck's shoulder, pointing with his free hand. As others have noted, I immediately realized it was the "wrong shoulder". Destielers know a wrong shoulder when they see one!

The other shoulder is comfort. It's grounding. It's familiar and loving.

This time, it's a reach of desperation. Note how we have not seen any physical contact between these two since Eddie returned from El Paso. Not a brushing of hands passing a beer. Not a welcoming hug.

Yes, Buck briefly leaned into Eddie as he stood, unsteady, at the funeral. But that's the closest thing we've seen on-screen.

Eddie needs to get through to Buck. He needs his best friend to hear him. So, he grabs ahold of him on that wrong shoulder, and he points with emphasis.

So many emotions flash through Eddie's face as he tries to get through to Buck. He gathers himself enough to keep his words controlled, measured, without accusation.

"You're not the only one that lost him. We all lost him."

Eddie releases Buck and steps away. The emotions are coming through stronger, the next line delivered with the pain and struggle of trying to keep one's emotions in, but them spilling out, anyway.

"And we're just trying to do our damned best to get through it." "Yeah, I know."

Eddie turns away from Buck on this, leaning onto the table, his back to his best friend. He's hurting so bad, and it's tumbling out—those waves of grief crashing one after the other.

He's already stumbling on the ocean floor under the weight of them, shoving him down into the shattered shells that scratch his face.

"Really? Cause you never asked what it was like..."

Because Buck always asks. He hounds Eddie about Panic Attacks. He tells the man he doesn't have to pretend with him. He's always the one pushing to make sure that Eddie is okay.

But neither one of them is okay, and Eddie doesn't know how to play the Buck role in the relationship because reaching out has never been natural.

And can we please talk about the composition of this shot?! I've mostly experienced 9-1-1 via GIFs and clips. But I can't remember many shots that were contained that took my breath away like this one.

I'm not talking about some silhouette of a rescue or some massive explosion or whatever. I'm talking about a shot of two people in this moment who are unable to face the same direction, even.

Eddie wants to be with Buck (again, not romantically at this second... just aligned in this moment) but he's breaking and has to turn away, to root himself on something solid and unmoving like that table.

He's often the anchor with his shoulder touch and words of encouragement—but not today.

Buck wants to be with Eddie, so his body is open to the kitchen... but his gaze is almost entirely away from him in this shot. He's normally the one reaching out, drawing Eddie out from his inner self. But this time, he's the one drowning in his own self-inflicted misery.

He's also holding onto the counter, if you note. They're both holding onto something for strength, for balance, for bearing—because right now they can't hold onto each other.

It's just fucking gorgeous. This whole scene is so fucking gorgeous.

Eddie's flashback hurts like hell. We remember the last time he got bad news of an important death—the time he broke down and took a bat to everything he owned, scaring the shit out of young Christopher who called Buck in desperation.

This time, Eddie knew there was no one to call. There was no Buck nearby to calm his kid and talk him through it.

And that's obviously not Buck's fault, but I think moments like that emphasized for Eddie just how alone he was... and just how much he needs Buck.

No, I don't think the realization has happened, yet.

I have my own head-canons about Eddie's journey of self-discovery that anchor him in who he is, as affirmed by others in his life long before Buck even gets on his radar as a potential romantic partner.

But, that's a story for another Meta (that I swear I am not gonna write, dagnabbit!).

We switch from that dark, shadowed flashback to the too-bright light of the kitchen. Neither is safe. Neither feels like home.

The instability is intentional—keeping us as off-balance as the characters, depriving us of warmth. It's all so cold. So blue. So wrong.

"Sitting alone in the dark. Trying to keep it together so I don't scare the crap out of my kid."

Eddie finally meets Buck's eyes on that last word. Because if they have nothing else, they have Chris.

And both of them know what happened the last time Eddie lost it, the last time he scared Chris. But this time, Eddie knew he couldn't let himself feel it. He had to keep it in for Chris.

Tears well in Eddie's eyes. He's finally letting himself feel. But Buck's still behind the wall, still closed off, still hiding from feeling because he thinks he needs to be strong.

Eddie turns away, again. He knows he's not getting through.

"I'm sorry."

This breaks Eddie. Breaks him right in half. Because the last thing he wants is to make Buck feel worse. He wants Buck to open up to him the way he wants so desperately to open up to Buck.

And this is all Ryan Guzman giving us a feast of a facial journey. I feel like this season he hasn't had many opportunities to shine, so given this wallop of a scene, he gave his all. Nothing is held back.

I'm damn proud of the kid (he's younger than my baby brother, so I feel like I can call him "kid").

But watch Buck in the background. I don't know if this was Oliver Stark's instincts, something written on the page, or a Directorial choice... but it's so subtle, yet so impactful.

Buck can't see Eddie's face, but he knows him well enough to understand this hurt Eddie worse. Oh, no. I hurt him worse. It's another mistake. Another failure. Something else he can't fix.

So he looks away. He oh so briefly looked to Eddie on the apology, but having seen what it wrought, he looks away.

"I know he was important to you, too." "He saved my life. And I wasn't there to save his."

Yes, you were, Eddie. You were. You just don't know you did it. You don't know how you gave an alcoholic hope when he had none. You have no idea how your words had an impact.

You did save him, Eddie. Just not this time.

And it really feeds into how Eddie at his best is the one to offer the words others need. It's really his superpower much as it's his curse. His words can wound, but they can also heal.

He just doesn't have the right words right now.

"And a part of me will always wonder if I was there, could I have made a difference?"

His voice is soft. He's facing Buck, though he's not meeting his eyes. He wants Buck to listen and hear him. He wants Buck to see him and draw him closer, not push him away.

"You don't think I did everything I could to save him?"

Buck stepped away from the counter, at last, on this line. He's not listening at all, now. He's hearing what he expects to hear. Buck, you failed him.

But that's not what Eddie says. And in his mind, Buck just did what Eddie feared he would do—made it all about him.

And, again, this is not about being selfish or self-centered. Eddie just lamented that he feels guilty for not being there. And Buck turns around and accuses him of doubting that he did everything he could.

That's not what it was about, Buck. This is about Eddie sharing Eddie's self-doubt.

But Buck sees it as another example of his own failure. And Eddie doesn't realize that. He doesn't understand the source and intention behind what Buck is saying.

And Buck is mis-reading into what Eddie said. Eddie not being there is about Eddie's guilt, not any accusation on Eddie's part about Buck's worth.

But Eddie feels like he's not being heard, so he gets in one more jab before leaving the room.

"I don't know, Buck. I wasn't there."

They're talking past one another because they don't fully understand the root of one another's traumas and how that manifests. And, like, they're best friends not lovers, right?

Sure, the line is so messily drawn it's more of a squiggle of marker on a damp piece of paper that's spreading in every direction. They've functioned as co-parents and partners for years without noticing.

And this speaks to how little either knows of true love. Of true partnership. That they found it in one another is a miracle deserving of song.

We all know how the episode ends—and I'm not gonna do the rest, dagnabbit—but I do want to point out that Eddie realizes after the fight what Buck needs.

And instead of running away, he tries to do better, to own up to being a dick, to get through to Buck not with words or fights... but with love. With family. With a sense of belonging.

Buck needs something Eddie can't give at the moment. But Eddie knows someone who can give him that grounding. It just happens to be the same human who holds his whole heart.

And that's what Eddie brings to Buck at the end of the episode. No, Buck doesn't get to keep Eddie's heart at this point—the physical representation in his son or the metaphorical one still locked away in a padlocked box within.

But someday, that boy who already thinks of Buck as his second Dad will utter the word "my Dads" and Buck's heart will burst with pride.

Someday Eddie's big brown eyes will hold Buck's blues and the charge between them will be so undeniable that one or both will have to act.

And someday Edmundo Diaz will give himself permision to love as Evan Buckley gives himself permission to be loved.

And that will be a damn beautiful thing.

At least... that's my hope. But I'm a sentimental old fool, so I guess we shall see.

Truly, my hat's off to everyone in this scene. Acting was impeccable. Camera work sensational. Lighting and set dressing set the tone immediately. Editing a dream. Directing was gorgeous. Writing was exceptional.

These are the scenes where I get excited as a viewer and I forget to think about what's happening on-screen from an analytical mind. That's rare for me. So this scene was a real treat!

Thanks for sticking around for this one, loves. It's a one-off! Truly! I'm working on breaking a Pilot, Outlining a Feature, and I need to get back on my Strike Book that has been waiting for my full health (finally getting there) to re-address.

Remember, loves—give yourself grace, make time for joy, and take every opportunity to dance in the rain.

[arlerts-angel]

thoughts on eren filming you while having sex?

NONNIE 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i have so many thoughts!!! 🤤 headcanon style

✧₊⁺ warnings: 18+ ! mdni. ノ fem but otherwise physically ambiguous reader ノ oral sex ( m + f ) ノ penetrative sex ノ pet names: baby, pretty

✧₊⁺ 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 is caught a little off guard by your willingness to do such a thing, but he gets so turned on by your eagerness!!!

✧₊⁺ literally goes to buy a handheld camcorder because recording on his phone just doesn't have the same effect ( though he will opt for his phone sometimes!! for a blowjob vid or a quickie ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ )

✧₊⁺ the first time, he sets it up to be like a cheesy porno with a plot and bad acting because he loves to hear you giggle!!!!

✧₊⁺ when he eats you out, he makes you hold the camera ( pointed towards your face ) when you're about to cum because he loves your facial expressions and watching the camera shake

✧₊⁺ loves to watch you get flustered when he praises/encourages you

"you look fucking gorgeous on camera baby, fuck"

"smile pretty for me baby" is his favorite after he cums on your face <3

✧₊⁺ one of his favorite things to record is mirror sex!!! highly encourages you to look at yourself while he fucks you.

"look how pretty you are taking all of me..."

"keep your eyes on the mirror... yeah baby, like that. watch yourself take my cock"

✧₊⁺ he keeps these videos more private than grisha's basement LMAO. not a chance he'd let anyone see you looking so pretty... so blissful and fucked out with strands of hair stuck to your face with sweat.

taglist: @la-undercover-latina ノ @so-you-like-kpop ノ @milky-aeons ノ @lees-chaotic-brain ノ @slutforthanatos

@layla240 ノ @priv-rose ノ @reiners-milkbiddies ノ @mrs-toji ノ @blueberrisdove

@darkstarlight82 ノ @pastasauceandmoms ノ @kodzukein ノ @little-miss-chaoss ノ @ravereina

[jihyoruri]

what are some of your stardom headcanons? sorry I love this group sm

oh em gee I love this ask (there’s are more like fun facts and little moments)

★ ͘ ⴰSTARDOM — headcanons

—★ ͘ ⴰ when yuri and yn first met when they were trainees they hated each other but now they’re the closest.

—★ ͘ ⴰ eunjin is everyone’s safe place, even though she’s rlly quiet the girls love spending time with her (yn is always barging into her room and just staying there and hana is constantly bothering and trolling her)

—★ ͘ ⴰ because they’re nintendo ambassadors they like to carry any type of nintendo handheld with them everywhere (yuri likes shoving her switch in cameras at the airport)

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn and yuri booked a flight to la without anyone knowing to go to kendrick lamar’s pop out show and how sm found at was seeing videos of them on the floor with other celebrities having the time of their lives.

—★ ͘ ⴰ when summer brought the girls to her old neighborhood in new york while they were trainees they loved seeing the houses and shops that was until they saw some crazy stuff and summer didn’t even flinch while yn called her cousin (wonyoung to book her a flight).

—★ ͘ ⴰ hana has a habit of stealing the members’ clothes and pretending they’re hers. eunjin caught her wearing her Miu Miu jacket during a live stream but decided to let it slide when fans kept commenting how cute Hana looked in it.

—★ ͘ ⴰ summer is the group’s unofficial “mom.” she’s always checking if everyone has eaten, but ironically, she’s also the one who loses her phone or wallet at least once a week.

—★ ͘ ⴰ eunjin loves photography and takes polaroid pictures of the members during everything they do. stardom fans always beg her to release a photobook, but she prefers keeping the memories private for the group.

—★ ͘ ⴰ yuri is known for sleepwalking during tour schedules. during their japan showcase, she ended up in yn’s hotel room, and the two had a full (nonsensical) conversation that yn secretly recorded and played back to everyone the next morning.

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn and eunjin have a habit of going out late at night for street food without the manager’s permission. fans have spotted them eating tteokbokki in random alleys at least twice, and sm has issued “warnings” to them each time.

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn is obsessed with journaling. she has a sparkly pink notebook where she writes her thoughts, sticks polaroids, and doodles cute notes about the members. yuri once snuck a peek and found a sketch of her, yn now makes sure to hide in better places.

—★ ͘ ⴰ eunjin has a calming playlists for each member that fits their vibe that she plays for the members when they’re stressed.

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn loves surprising the members with coffee runs during practice sessions, but she always messes up hana’s order. hana once jokingly told fans, “she’s a great leader, but she has no idea how I like my coffee.”

—★ ͘ ⴰ eunjin is lowkey obsessed with true crime documentaries. she sometimes shares creepy facts with the members late at night, especially hana to get back at her for all her trolling.

—★ ͘ ⴰ eunjin is the best at keeping secrets, but when the members plan surprise parties, she gets so anxious about keeping it hidden that she starts avoiding the person they’re celebrating. yn once asked on live “why does eunjin hate me this week?” only to walk into her surprise birthday party later that night.

—★ ͘ ⴰ summer collects old cds and cassette tapes from thrift stores. she even convinced sm to let them film part of a music video in a vintage record store.

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn is a huge perfectionist when it comes to choreography. she often stays late at the practice room to fine-tune every move, and yuri always stays behind with her, saying, “you’re not suffering alone.”

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn and summer are THE vocal duo and are known for their pre debut duets.

—★ ͘ ⴰ hana keeps a “snack stash” in her bag that she shares with fans during fan signs. the company has tried to ban her from giving out snacks, but she always finds a way around it.

—★ ͘ ⴰ eunjin secretly loves plushies but pretends to dislike them. the members leave random plushies on her bed, and she keeps all of them, saying, “they’re there for decoration.”

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn has an impressive collection of vinyl records. she often plays them while journaling or brainstorming choreography ideas. yuri always jokes that yn has an old soul.

—★ ͘ ⴰ summer can’t handle spicy food, but she always challenges herself to eat it anyway. during a mukbang, she started crying after one bite of spicy ramen, and yn had to finish the bowl for her.

—★ ͘ ⴰ hana is known for her laugh which sounds more like a cackle. whenever she laughs, the other members start laughing harder.

—★ ͘ ⴰ yn is a secret night owl and often stays up sketching designs for stardom’s next concept. summer once found her asleep at the table with doodles of retro outfits scattered around.

—★ ͘ ⴰ yuri made handmade bracelets for all the members during their trainee days. they all still wear them during important events as a good luck charm.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 6

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Today is the day! You are riding with Tyler and Boone directly into a tornado. Get ready for an experience you'll never forget. Word Count: 3303 TW: Flirting, Kissing, Developing Feelings, Storm Danger, Scott Sucks, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Series Masterlist

After breakfast, you helped Dexter and Lily clean up and prepare to leave for the first chase of the day. You gathered up the trash bags, jogged the short distance to the dumpsters, and tossed them in. When you turned around, you jumped as you found Tyler standing in front of you.

Clutching your chest, you swore, “Damn it! Why does everyone have to keep popping up and scaring me!”

He grinned, swaggering forward as he said, “I saw that little show you put on with Boone. It seems like you might not be over that revengeful streak of yours after all.” He stopped a few feet from you.

You lifted one shoulder as you tilted your head down so you could look up at him from under your lashes. “What can I say, some habits are hard to break.” Stepping closer until your chest almost grazed his, you lifted your head and stared unwaveringly into his eyes. “And sometimes people need to be reminded they aren’t the only ones who can tease or play games. Or that maybe they aren’t as smooth as they think they are and others can see through their bullshit deflections.”

Tilting his head, almost in a sign of deference, he murmured, “Good to know. Maybe you should take your own advice.” 

He leaned his head closer to yours…then pivoted and walked back towards his truck, once again leaving you flustered and your cheeks burning. As you silently cursed him, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, you might wanna have a talk with Boone about that little act before he shows up at your room with flowers and a box of chocolates.” 

You rolled your eyes and trudged after him.

It turned out, Tyler may not have been exaggerating. When you made it back to the camper van, Boone was there waiting for you, asking if you needed any help or if he could carry something for you or if you wanted something to drink or—

You couldn’t see Tyler, but you swore you heard him snickering somewhere nearby. 

As politely as possible, you explained to Boone that while you appreciated his offers, you were fine and that you hoped he didn’t get the wrong impression from your hug earlier. Boone’s face flushed as he stammered out a few “‘course not”s and “we’re cool”s before excusing himself and slinking away. You felt really bad at essentially using him, especially after he had been nothing but kind to you. Once again, you kicked yourself for allowing the old you to come to the surface and not having the self-control to stop playing games. 

Luckily, everything seemed to be forgotten by the time you joined Tyler and Boone at the red pickup a few minutes later. Boone was back to his usual excitable self as he prepared his camera and showed you how everything worked. Between his handheld with the live stream and the several other cameras mounted in the truck capturing video to be edited later, it was actually more complex than you had imagined. It seemed as if you really had underestimated Boone, and that made you feel even worse for involving him in your scheme earlier.

Then suddenly, it was time to roll out. You had been so focused on your behavior that morning that you hadn’t thought about what was about to happen next. As the last of the bags were stowed away in one of the vans and Dexter did one last run down of the current weather patterns, a knot began to form in the pit of your stomach. Telling yourself you would be driving into the middle of a tornado today had been one thing. Now facing the very real fact it was about to happen, you wondered if you should have skipped breakfast. 

On trembling legs, you walked over to Tyler’s truck and reached to open the back door. But just as your fingers closed around the handle, an arm draped itself across your shoulders. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. You’ve got shotgun.” 

You turned to face Tyler, the knot that had been forming in your stomach tightening. “But I thought Boone—”

“Boone can get plenty of footage from the back. But this being your first time wrangling a storm, we want to make sure you have a front-row seat to the action.” Tyler opened the passenger door for you. When you hesitated, he raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re having second thoughts about riding with us? There’s always room for you in one of the other vans.”

Swallowing hard, you said, “No. I-I can do this.” 

You started to climb in, but Tyler grabbed your arm. Positioning himself so no one else could see you between his body and his truck, he softly murmured, “Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do this to try and prove something to anyone, even to yourself. Just coming with us after the storm like you did yesterday already puts you on the list of the bravest people I’ve ever met. And no one—not me, not your brother—no one can ever take that away from you. But—” he leaned over so the brim of his hat brushed against the top of your head and his thumb caressed your arm “��if you do want to go, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s your choice.”

The sincerity in his tone left no doubt that he meant what he said. If you decided to ride with Lily or Dani and Dexter instead, there would be no judgment. Tyler wouldn’t look down on you or think less of you for it, and that was all you needed to make up your mind.

Shooting him a grateful smile, you said, “Thanks, but I really do want to do this. And I always feel safe with you, Tyler, so I know this time won’t be any different.”

He grinned. “Alright then. Let’s go wrangle us a tornado.” 

He squeezed your arm one last time before helping you climb into the truck. Then he shut your door and hurried over to the driver’s side. Boone hopped in the back seat with an excited whoop just as Tyler’s door slammed shut.

You quickly buckled your seatbelt—trying to not think about the thick harness you hadn’t noticed the last time you rode up here—and settled back into your seat. But you froze as you looked out the windshield and saw Javi and Scott standing the Storm PAR vehicles still parked next to the main office. They were both staring right at you: Javi’s expression somewhat concerned yet accepting while Scott’s was nothing but pure apathy. 

You wondered if Javi told Scott the two of you had talked last night, though you hoped he kept it to himself. Not for your sake (you doubted it would have changed Scott’s opinion of you) but you didn’t want Javi to put himself into an uncomfortable position playing mediator for his business partner and said business partner’s sister. 

Tyler noticed who you were staring at and asked, “We good to go?”

You sighed. “Let’s do this.”

He nodded and started the engine. Easing the truck forward slowly, he rolled down his window and when he pulled alongside the group from Storm PAR, Tyler shouted, “Hey, Scotty! Make sure you watch the stream today so you don’t miss out on your sister’s first time driving headfirst into a tornado!”

You maintained eye contact with Scott, waiting for him to demand you get out of the truck or refuse to let you do something this dangerous. But instead, he just scoffed as he folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. She was scared of thunder until she was a teenager. Trust me, she’ll be begging you to turn the truck around before you get a hundred feet from a storm.”

Lowering your eyes, you sunk further into your seat. Not only had he shaken the little confidence Tyler had helped build up in you, but Scott had just revealed something utterly embarrassing to your new friends. It was true that you had cowered under your covers or hidden from all windows in the middle of bad thunderstorms well into your teenage years, but you had gotten past it. However, you didn’t want the people who faced some of nature’s most dangerous weather on a daily basis to know that!

For a long moment, Tyler just stared at your brother. Then, shaking his head, he asked, “What is wrong with you?” before pulling out onto the road. 

Once the motel had disappeared in the rearview mirror, Tyler reached over and rested his hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t listen to him, okay? He’s just trying to get under your skin. You got this.”

You nodded and tried to smile at him, but you could tell it didn’t look as confident as you hoped. 

From behind you, Boone let out a low whistle. “That dude’s really your brother?” You nodded. “Dang, no wonder you decided to hang out with us instead. He sucks.”

The unexpectedness of that assessment caused a burst of laughter to escape your lips. Tyler glanced over, grinning and squeezing your knee. Your smile widened, feeling less forced and more genuine. Looking at the other storm chaser in the visor mirror, you chuckled. “Yeah, Boone. He really does suck.”

Tyler had mentioned he was looking for a smaller EF1 or EF2 for your first time out. However, the storm the Wranglers ame across looked much bigger than that. It was at least twice as wide as the tornado you saw yesterday, yet Tyler and Boone didn’t seem the least bit concerned. If anything, they seemed more excited than you had ever seen them before.

As the sky grew darker and the truck began to sway slightly in the increasing winds, you dug your fingers into the interior of the truck so tightly that your knuckles cracked. Scott was right. You weren’t brave enough for this. What the hell were you thinking wanting to go on a chase? It wasn’t a game. Thousands of people were injured or killed in tornados every year and now you were going to just drive up next to one? Possibly even into one? This was insane!

Seemingly sensing your mounting fear, Boone leaned forward, his head poking between you and Tyler, as he looked at his friend. “You sure she’s ready for this, T? I mean, no offense, but this one might be a little much for someone who's never done this before.”

But Tyler just grinned. “Nah, she’ll be fine. Won’t you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, your eyes wide in terror as you stared at the approaching storm. “Y-yeah. I’ll be fine.” 

Your voice betrayed the anxiety that was flooding every cell of your body, but Tyler reached over and took your hand, prying it carefully off the center console and giving it a tight squeeze. The small gesture instantly caused the panic rising within you to mellow slightly. The idea of what you were about to do still terrified you, but knowing Tyler was behind the wheel made it somewhat bearable. 

He nodded to the harness hanging limply on the sides of the seat. “We won’t need those for a bit, but you might feel a little more comfortable if you strap in now. You know, just in case.”

Immediately, you slipped your hand from his and began fumbling with the harness. It seemed pretty straightforward but seeing how your hands were shaking, it’s more difficult than you initially thought. Without taking his eyes off the road, Tyler reached over and straightened the strap that was twisted across your chest. Then he helped you click it into place before taking your hand once more. However, this time, he raised it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back. It was more demure than the kiss he had placed there last night, but it still sent the same thrill through you all the way down to your toes. You quickly glanced in the visor mirror, but luckily it seemed Boone was too preoccupied with getting his camera set up to see what had just occurred. 

Tyler continued holding your hand until rain began pelting the windshield, the storm now looming so large in front of the truck that it seemed to block out everything else. You heard Boone starting his video introduction in the backseat but you didn’t register anything he said as you sat frozen in your seat staring at the approaching storm. It wasn’t until Boone nudged your shoulder rather forcefully that you realized he had been speaking to you. 

Shaking your head, you asked, “What?”

Boone chuckled nervously, glancing from the camera to you. “I said introduce yourself to the chat.”

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly said your name then continued to stare into the lens like a deer caught in the headlights as Boone left it focused on you, unsure of what else he wanted.

Luckily, Tyler came to your rescue. Grabbing Boone’s hand and swinging the camera to focus on him, he said, “Y’all probably remember me mentioning our newest Wrangler in yesterday’s stream. Well, she handled that storm like the pro she is so we thought we’d give her a shot at the main attraction today. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Tyler winked at you before turning the lens back in your direction. You smiled and nodded. “Yep! We’re gonna…wrangle us a tornado!”

It felt a bit stilted, but the pride and warmth radiating from Tyler as he looked at you made you feel like you had just given an Oscar Award-winning performance. You bit your lip and looked away as you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks. But then you remember what Tyler had said about you hiding your face when someone compliments you so you turn back and look him dead in the eye. The warm look on his face only intensified before he turned his attention back to the road ahead.

A few minutes later as he pulled the truck into the path of the storm, Tyler slowed to a stop. He flipped a few switches on the center console and pressed the red button on top of the joystick positioned there. You heard a whirring sound and the truck seemed to sink into the ground slightly. Tyler must have deployed the augers to lock the truck in place. Dani mentioned yesterday that they had never failed since they were installed and you prayed today wasn’t the day that changed.

But as the edge of the storm grew closer and closer, you felt a fresh wave of terror grip you. Placing both of your feet on your seat, you wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into yourself as much as the safety harness would allow. You focused all of your energy on your breathing, trying your hardest not to start hyperventilating. But as the tornado finally hit the front of the truck, you let out a small squeal and buried your head in your knees.

However…nothing happened. The truck didn’t flip wildly out of control. The windows didn’t shatter into a million pieces. The augers didn’t give out. 

Slowly, you raised your head. The entire truck shook and vibrated around you, the sensation sending tremors throughout your body. Outside, random bits of debris struck the truck but nothing seemed to be able to break through its upgraded structure. As the initial wall of wind passed by the truck and you found yourself deeper into the storm, you actually found yourself relaxing slightly, unfurling yourself where you had tucked into a tight ball. If something bad was going to happen, it would have been when the tornado first hit the truck. Right?

Tyler leaned over until his lips brushed the curve of your ear and he whispered. “Look up.”

You could just make out the words over the howl of the storm but you did what he said. Tilting forward, trembling as your face neared the windshield, you squinted up into the wind. For a moment, all you saw was dirt and debris swirling around. But then you noticed a smaller, tighter vortex dancing through the center almost as if there was a tornado within the tornado. And as you followed this swirl up, you gasped as you caught just a glimpse of the sky peaking through the opening of the funnel. It was one of the brightest blues you had ever seen and it was utterly magical. 

You looked over at Tyler. His face was beaming as he watched you and, in that moment, he was even more breathtaking than the storm. Time seemed to stop and nothing else existed besides the two of you. Not the storm, not Boone, not the camera, nothing.

Your eyes met…then so did your lips. You weren't even really sure who initiated it and you didn’t care. His lips molded against yours perfectly, his tongue dancing across the entrance of your mouth as he tested his boundaries. But when you parted your lips further, he slipped inside as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and drew you closer. He tasted like coffee with just the hint of peppermint. And as his stubble scraped across your skin, you hummed at the shiver it sent racing down your spine. 

The kiss was everything you had been imagining and so much more. 

Needing more, you tried crawling across the center console to straddle his lap but something hugging you tightly across your chest stopped you. It was only then that you remembered the harness holding you into your seat. Your fingers scrambled against the buckle, finally unhooking it—

“And they say there ain’t no love in Oklahoma! Well, if that ain’t love, I don’t know what is!”

You and Tyler both jumped apart, startled by Boone’s joyful exclamation from the backseat. Horrified, you realized he had just filmed your kiss and broadcasted it live on the Wranglers’ YouTube channel. You buried your face in your hands, only peeking through the smallest crack to see Tyler’s reaction. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing the fallen strands off his face as he muttered, “Boone–”

But his fellow storm chaser paid him no mind. “You saw it here first! The tornado wrangler himself has been wrangled by a new beau.”

“Boone.”

“And if any of you out there has ever wondered if two people could kiss in the middle of a tornado, I guess we have our answer!”

“Boone!” Tyler shot you an exasperated look and you lowered your hands, chuckling softly at the silliness of the whole situation. It was only then that you also noticed the storm had passed and everything outside the truck was now calm. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for inside the truck.

Tyler reached into the backseat and wrestled the camera out of Boone’s hands. Then, he took a breath and aimed the camera at himself as he plastered on a smile. “Well, I guess that’s it for today, folks. Things took a bit of an unexpected turn but in the middle of a storm, you never know what might happen! Thanks for watching and as always, if you feel it—” he leaned across the center console until his face was next to yours in the shot “—chase it.” And he pressed his lips against yours once again.

You could feel Tyler grinning against your mouth as you returned his kiss. Without pulling away, you reached out and covered the lens of the camera with your hand. The world had seen enough of you and Tyler for one day. However, if you had your way, the two of you were just getting started. 

Part 7 coming 9/23!

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“the most important meal of the day”

A/N: yeah so I guess me simply getting dressed this morning spurred the idea for pornstar!joel and baby love to do yoga together? I—yeah! Idk 😵‍💫

~word count: 956~

Summary: Joel eats you for breakfast

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: none, fluff, smut, domestic intimacy, amateur porn video, established relationship, oral (f receiving) unprotected piv, teasing, pet names, semi-public sex, one mention of the reader ovulating, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, they are disgustingly in love, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

It was your suggestion that you and Joel should start causally filming vlogs depicting all the little special and real moments in your relationship outside of producing pornos. Joel was elated with the idea immediately, and later surprised you with a brand new handheld camcorder.

You were elated and feeling all those warm fuzzy feelings when he presented the camera to you with a frilly pink bow wrapped around it. Your excitement to document new memories with him on the camera was palpable as you gently threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly while his arms looped around your waist, nuzzling his nose into your neck affectionately.

He lived to see you happy even over the littlest things that he had to offer you.

You took to your socials immediately, gushing about Joel, and the new camera which you hinted at on your instagram story. In the corner of the screen you could see his thick middle finger pointed upwards, and his cheesy lopsided grin.

God, did you love this man.

The first video you filmed on the new camera was outside on Joel’s patio. It was a beautiful morning with you and your man participating in yoga with a side of breakfast. You had been the one to encourage him to start practicing yoga to help with the growing stiffness in his back and in his joints overall. He agreed enthusiastically to your suggestion, and he couldn’t say no to an excuse to see you in your cute workout clothes.

But between the mid-morning Texas humidity, and Joel’s occasional low grunts while he was in the downwards dog position, stretching out his back muscles with his head falling between his shoulders, and his salt and peppered hair all sweaty, falling in ringlets over his forehead, you could barely hold your composure for much longer.

There was an obvious wet patch forming through the breathable fabric of your workout shorts the longer you ogled at him, watching the way the muscles in his forearms flexed under the warm sun.

“What’re you lookin’ at, baby love?” His tone was low, deep, and rasping from the angle he was in. He looked over his shoulder at you, brows raised in amusement.

“Nothing, baby.” You lied sweetly, “you’re holding that position really well, Joel. Good job.”

He, however, was unconvinced with your response and slowly sat back on his thighs so that you had a direct view of the growing bulge in loose workout shorts. His cock was already growing hard and heavy, slicked with sweat and a drool of precum that stained the front of his shorts.

“S’that all I’m doin’ well? Can see ya ogling me like I’m your next meal.” He chuckled, grinning from ear to ear with his hands resting on his meaty, strong thighs.

“God fucking dammit.” You let out a groan and let yourself fall gracefully onto your back, thighs parting open so he can see the visible wet patch through the thin fabric. “I’m ovulating, you jackass. And you’re over there grunting and flexing your muscles and— fuck me—” you let out a strained laugh.

“And I’m as hard as a fucking slab of granite with you over there bending and twisting in ways that I didn’t know you could move in.” He nearly growled, eyes zoning in on the wet patch between your thighs. He was crawling towards you on the rubber yoga mat before you even had a chance to respond. “And you’re fuckin’ drippin’ right through your workout shorts, baby love.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” You said sarcastically with a playful roll of your eyes as you sat up on your elbows.

He was between your thighs immediately, big hands grasping your bare skin and pressing you open so the breadth of his shoulders could fit snugly between you. He dragged the tip of his nose right through the wet patch of the fabric. Letting out a deep, manly groan from the mixed aroma of your sweat and arousal, feeling his cock twitch in his shorts.

You reached for his hair, tangling your fingers through the sweaty ringlets, gripping them tightly as he pressed his face further into your covered cunt. “You’re gonna spoil your breakfast, Joel.” You said with a soft giggle, lashes fluttering shut.

“Fuck the breakfast. I’m eatin’ you up instead.” He mumbled against you, dragging his tongue from your covered hole right to your pulsing clit. He nibbled playfully on the fabric with his teeth, pulling the elastic back slowly before letting it snapback. “Would much rather eat my girl, anyway.” He snickered, rubbing his nose back and forth against you, listening to your sweet little whines that spurred him on to continue with his ministrations with his skilled tongue.

More. More. More.

And while he could have just easily pulled down your shorts for easier access, he decided that ripping them open was the better alternative.

And before you could even think about scolding him for ripping your shorts, he was lapping at your folds, and suckling on your clit like a man that was absolutely pussy starved. His eyes were shut as obscene sounds were murmured against your soaked pussy.

Thank goodness neither of you had to worry about any peeping neighbors!

After you’ve come along his tongue more times than you or he can count, he’s slowly feeding you his cock which has grown painfully hard up until this point. He’s so hard, the tip of his cock is nearly swollen as he uses his thumb to press himself into your weeping little hole. He fucks you slow and deep, letting you feel all of him with your calves resting over his shoulders. He’s forgotten all about the ache in his lower back when he’s all far too consumed with you: his baby love, and your pretty pussy hugging him just right.

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[jude457]

Headcanon for In-ho and VIPs whump. Content warning for non-con and blackmail, you can ignore this if it’s too much 😭

I’ve been having this headcanon based on your In-ho and the VIPs whump that the VIPs don’t just molest him but they also video tape the assault, and In-ho knows he’s being filmed, they’re not even hiding that part, they make sure he sees the cameras. So even if he’s out of the game, even if Jun-ho and Gi-hun have rescued him, he knows the VIPs still have his videos.

The vids are out there, and god knows how many people have seen them, how many people will see them. He lives every day fearing they’re going to be public one day. And Jun-ho and Gi-hun will see them too and then they’ll know.

It’s just traumatizing him every second of every day, and neither Jun-ho nor Gi-hun know what’s wrong, because In-ho won’t tell them.

(But he’s a mess and is traumatized, and both Jun-ho and Gi-hun can tell something is wrong, something that is far more serious, far more traumatizing than the game itself.)

To make things more angsty, maybe one of the VIPs emails the videos to Jun-ho and Gi-hun one day. And they’re in rage. They’re not “disgusted by In-ho” like In-ho thinks they are, they’re shattered and angry, NOT at In-ho but at the VIPs. But for In-ho it doesn’t really matter because Jun-ho and Gi-hun know.

And Jun-ho throws up (not because he’s disgusted by his brother but because he can’t take seeing his brother hurt), but for In-ho, he so fully believes that his brother throws up because he’s disgusted by him.

And everything is just a mess. Poor In-ho </3

He needs lots and lots and lots of love and therapy

no because the VIPs would definitely record it. not just because they’re fucked up — but because they want inho to know they can. that they did. like that’s the whole point. they don’t just break you in the moment, they immortalize it. they want inho to remember. they want him to fear the memory of it more than the act itself. and he does. like they didn’t even need to say “we own you,” they showed it — in pixels. they filmed it like it was art. because to them it was. their little power project.

and he lives with that. every day. knowing it exists. knowing they probably pass it around like a collectors item. that somewhere, in some disgusting digital vault, he’s there, in that room, on his knees, being used. the mask doesn’t matter. the rank. he was just another pet to them. and that’s the part that guts me.

and then like. after the Games. when everything fell apart. he didn’t get hunted down or executed or whatever. because JUNHO found him. Junho dragged him off that island. pulled him out of that hellhole when he should’ve just let it burn. and he doesn’t even know why. he just sees his brother and thinks — maybe there’s something left to save. maybe I can fix it if I just make it all go away.

so he hides him. begs Gihun to let Inho stay at his motel. convinces him it’s just temporary, just until the investigation cools. Gihun doesn’t buy it. thinks Inho’s a snake. a strategist. thinks he chose to be the Frontman. Junho does too. honestly. he doesn’t think Inho’s a victim, he just thinks he’s broken. complicit. like he let the system rot him out. he doesn’t know.

and that’s why Junho takes the lead in the investigation. he’s not there just for justice. he’s not noble. he’s scrubbing blood off the floor with his sleeves rolled up, trying to make sure no one ever sees his brother’s name in the final report. like if he can erase it, if he can delete every trace, it’ll undo something. or at least contain it.

and then. the file.

just a nameless file buried in junk code and surveillance archives. he opens it without thinking. it’s amateur. handheld. you can tell it’s not official footage — it’s someone’s. personal. the camera’s shaky, zooming in and out like they’re trying to capture every inch of the moment.

and it’s Inho.

kneeling. unclothed. wrists tied behind his back. bruises already on his face. his mouth is open like he’s pleading but there’s no sound. just the low hum of nothing. and the VIPs are there. circling. robes. masks. glasses of wine. one of them grabs him by the hair and the camera doesn’t look away. another one moves behind him.

Junho shuts the laptop like it bit him. runs to the sink and just vomits. he doesn’t even cry. just dry-heaving like his whole body’s trying to reject the truth. and the walk home from the station is just… blank. static. like he’s underwater. everything buzzing around him but none of it reaching. and the whole time that image is still in his head. Inho in that room. the look on his face. the stillness. like his soul just gave up.

and suddenly everything — everything — makes sense. the shaking when someone enters the room too quiet. the way inho avoids junho when he is wearing cologne like a plague. the too-long showers. the flinching. Junho just thought inho was paranoid. maybe even feeling guilty.

but no. he was traumatised. he was hunted and kept and used and never said a word. inho let them believe he was the man in the tower. the one calling the shots. but he was just another prisoner with a prettier cage.

and now junho knows.

and there’s no unseeing it.