#and i'm not one of those people who can put a tv show or movie on as background noise

[flanaganfilm]

Mr. Flanagan, I’d like to ask a question and I deeply hope that it does not offend or upset you. I am strongly considering canceling my Netflix subscription due to their new password sharing policy. However, Midnight Mass is one of my favorite shows of all time and I know it isn’t available on DVD, and I’m also profoundly anticipating your take on my favorite Edgar Allen Poe story. So I wanted to ask your take on people accessing your work through, uh, other means. If it’s something that’s offensive to you or will harm you or the other people who work so hard on these shows, I’ll happily keep my Netflix just so that I can keep supporting your work. I respect you far too much as an artist to do otherwise.

Again, I really hope I’m not upsetting you by asking this question. Thank you for everything, and I hope you’re having a great day!

(NOTE 6/4/2024: I'm editing this entry because, well over a year since it was posted, some journalists dug this up and used it to create click-bait headlines that are misleading, out of context and artificially combative. While I was of course disappointed over the years that Netflix opted not to release my work on physical media, I never experienced any hostility or aggression in those discussions, and I sincerely regret the manner in which this post was used in the press this week.)

Hi there - no offense taken whatsoever, in fact I think this is a very interesting and important question.

So. If you asked me this a few years ago, I would have said "I hate piracy and it is hurting creators, especially in the independent space." I used to get in Facebook arguments with fans early in my career when people would post about seeing my work on torrent sites, especially when that work was readily available for rent and purchase on VOD.

Back in 2014, my movie Before I Wake was pirated and leaked prior to any domestic release, and that was devastating to the project. It actually made it harder to find distribution for the film. By the time we were able to get distribution in the US, the film had already been so exposed online that the best we could hope for was a Netflix release. Netflix stepped in and saved that movie, and for that I will always be grateful to them.

However...

Working in streaming for the past few years has made me reconsider my position on piracy.

In the years I worked at Netflix, I tried very hard to get them to release my work on blu-ray and DVD.

It became clear very fast that their priority was subscriptions, and that they were not particularly interested in physical media releases of their originals, with a few exceptions.

While companies like Netflix pride themselves on being disruptors, and have proven that they can affect great change in the industry, they sometimes fail to see the difference between disruption and damage. So much that they can find themselves, intentionally or not, doing harm to the concept of film preservation.

The danger comes when a title is only available on one platform, and then - for whatever reason - is removed.

We have already seen this happen. And it is only going to happen more and more. Titles exclusively available on streaming services have essentially been erased from the world. If those titles existed on the marketplace on physical media, like HBO's Westworld, the loss is somewhat mitigated (though only somewhat.) But when titles do not exist elsewhere, they are potentially gone forever.

The list of titles that have been removed from streaming services is growing.

I still believe that where we put our dollars matters. Renting or buying a piece of work that you like is essential. It is casting a vote, encouraging studios - who only speak the language of money - to invest more effort into similar work. If we show up to support distinct, unique, exciting work, it encourages them to make more of it. It's as simple as that. If we don't show up, or if they can't hear our voice because we are casing our vote "silently" through torrent sites or other means - it makes it unlikely that they will take a chance to create that kind of work again.

Which is why I typically suggest that if you like a movie you've seen through - uh - other means, throw a few dollars at that title on a legitimate platform. Rent it. Purchase it. Support it.

But if some studios offer no avenue for that kind of support, and can (and will) remove content from their platform forever... frankly, I think that changes the rules.

Netflix will likely never release the work I created for them on physical media, though I'll always hold out hope.

Some of you may say "wait, aren't The Haunting of Hill House and The Haunting of Bly Manor available on blu-ray and DVD?" Yes, they are, because they were co-produced with Paramount, and I'm grateful that Paramount was able to release and protect those titles. (I'm also grateful that those releases include extended cuts, deleted scenes, and commentary tracks. There are a number of fantastic benefits to physical media releases.)

But a lot of the other work I did there are Netflix originals, without any other studio involvement. Those titles - like Midnight Mass, The Midnight Club, and the upcoming Fall of the House of Usher - along with my Netflix exclusive and/or original movies Before I Wake and Gerald's Game - have no such protections. The physical media releases of those titles are entirely at Netflix's discretion, and don't appear to be priority for the studio at this time.

At the moment, Netflix seems content to leave Before I Wake, Gerald's Game, Midnight Mass, and The Midnight Club on the service, where they still draw audiences. I don't think there is a plan to remove any of them anytime soon. But plans change, the industry changes.

The point is things change, and each of those titles - should they be removed from the service for any reason - are not available anywhere else. If that day comes - if Netflix's servers are destroyed, if a meteor hits the building, if they are bought out by a competitor and their library is liquidated - I don't know what the circumstances might be, I just know that if that day comes, some of the work that means the most to me in the world would be entirely erased.

Or, what if we aren't so catastrophic in our thinking? What if it the change isn't so total? What if Netflix simply bumps into an issue with the license they paid for music (like the Neil Diamond songs that play such a crucial role in Midnight Mass), and decide to leave the show up but replace the songs?

This has happened before as well - fans of Northern Exposure can get the show on DVD and blu-ray, but the music they heard when the series aired has been replaced due to the licensing issues. And the replacements - chosen for their low cost, not for creative reasons - are not improvements. What if the shows are just changed, and not by creatives, but by business affairs executives?

All to say that physical media is critically important. Having redundancy in the marketplace is critically important. The more platforms a piece of work is available on, the more likely it is to survive and grow its audience.

As for Netflix, I hope sincerely that their thinking on this issue evolves, and that they value the content they spend so much money creating enough to protect it for posterity. That's up to them, it's their studio, it's their rules. But I like to think they may see that light eventually, and realize that exclusivity in a certain window is very cool... but exclusivity in perpetuity could potentially limit the audience and endanger the work itself.

[gffa]

With the confirmation of The Acolyte not getting a second season, I can't say I'm surprised, the numbers for that show were really bad given what its budgets was, like I kept an eye on The Acolyte's numbers and they were really, really down across the board (Ahsoka's numbers aren't super great either but that's getting its second season because it's Filoni's pet show, I suspect), like set aside all the other complicated stuff, whether it was good or bad, how much of the fandom's reaction was pretty heinous and racist, it just was not getting the numbers it needed and it's making me wonder about how all of these shows are not doing well. Mando is doing all right, OWK did all right, Andor's doing okay, but none of these shows are setting anything on fire anymore (ratings-wise, that is), what would it take to create something that takes off again?

I strongly suspect that The Mandalorian only took off because of Favreau, who really does know how to make something really good and fun in the beginning. Filoni gets a lot of credit for that show, but I'd be willing to put ten dollars on the table that Favreau was driving the vast majority of the success of that series. And that makes me wonder about the future of these shows, because I don't think Filoni is strong enough to really carry a show on his own, most of his best work is when he has a strong partner actively working with him or when he was working under Lucas.

And the creators they bring in to create these shows aren't setting anything on fire, either. Yeah, the sequels made a billion dollars for each movie, but I think it's pretty telling that we're not getting comics or books or games about those characters anymore, the way we did for the prequels characters for more than a decade after they came out. Yeah, Tony Gilroy and Deborah Chow had shows that did solidly well, but they're not anything that Star Wars can build future content off of, they're already backstories for other movies themselves. And I don't think Skeleton Crew is going to light anything on fire, either.

Lucasfilm just doesn't seem to know what to do with Star Wars TV and movies. They had some really good early success with their projects, but almost everything ultimately fizzled out after a few years or ended really badly, and it feels like the only thing that's really hitting with audiences are more Clone Wars-era content and The High Republic novels and maybe still The Mandalorian.

Honestly, if I were Lucasfilm, I'd cut out the live action shows and go back to animation and think long and hard about setting up a new movie series. I think, with the right creative team (and not just who they think is a big name to write/direct), they could have a great trilogy with The Old Republic era stuff, because they have got to expand beyond the PT/OT and the Skywalkers, especially since the sequels put a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths about how Luke, Leia, and Han's stories ended.

(I mean, in my ideal world, we'd get an animated series set in between TPM and AOTC or set like 30 years pre-TPM and getting to see the backstories for characters like Mace and Plo and Shaak and Luminara and Yarael, but I'm not holding my breath on that one.)

[st4rfckerz]

give into us | gf!sam monroe x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, praise, mild knife play, pet names (nothing crazy), dry humping, choking, loss of virginity, breeding kink

summary: you're home alone and you receive a call from an anonymous caller.

it was a brisk october night. the kind where you curl up with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and a scary movie. so that's exactly what you do. you choose to binge a few of your favorite horror movies because you have the whole night to yourself.

you put the old vhs tape into the vcr and start the movie. as the movie began to play, the phone unexpectedly started to ring. the shrill ringing of the old landline phone broke the peaceful mood set by the flickering old tv.

"who could that even be?" you think to yourself before heading to the kitchen to pick up the phone.

“hello?” you answered the phone apprehensively. there's a lengthy pause before an unsettling, breathless voice answers back.

"who is this?" the voice questions. you raise your eyebrows in confusion.

"who are you trying to reach?" you ask, a little perplexed that the person who called you was inquiring who he called.

a slight chuckle was heard on the other end. the caller was so excited to talk with you.

"do you really have to guess who I'm trying to reach?" his tone became very charming. this was the kind of voice that could woo people into trusting him "i've been trying to reach you all night." you hear a hint of desperation.

"ok, come on, who is this?" you ask sternly. you look at your surroundings, not seeing anyone around.

“who i am isn't important, sweetheart.  what you need is a little companionship - i can help with that.” he paused for a moment, the silence stretching between the both of you.

"you just gotta want me.” your body froze at the sound of his words, like though a switch had been flipped, in a way that you were unable to articulate.

"you're crazy." you scoff. you hang up the phone and return to your movie.

"freak." you mutter to yourself.

after a few moments, the phone rings again.

“you keep calling me crazy yet, you’re the one that’s talking to the voice on the other end of this phone.” you could hear the snicker in his voice.

"and you're the one that won't leave me alone." you snap.

"how can i leave you alone when you're wearing those adorable little shorts?" 

you pause for a second and gaze down at your baby pink shorts. whoever this was has been clearly watching you. in a fit of panic, you rush to the kitchen counter and grab a knife.

“your little knife isn't gonna save you doll, might want to think of something a little better,” he taunted, a dark chuckle following soon after. the sound made your skin crawl and you held the phone tightly, fighting the urge to hang up.

"why don't you just show yourself huh? don't be a coward." you can feel yourself getting more scared and nervous.

“show myself?” his voice shifted, any sign of cockiness gone and replaced with a cold, calculating tone. “you keep asking questions like that and you’ll soon find out just how brave i really am.” 

you hang up the phone once more and start dialing 911. the lights suddenly go out. you take a breath to settle your nerves, but the moment you do, a hand is placed around your mouth. your chest is securely wrapped by powerful hands, but you immediately wriggle free and proceed to flee through the back door.

running seems to clear the fog around your brain, the adrenaline coursing through your body helping you overcome the shock of what just happened. you hear footsteps running after you, gaining on you - getting closer and closer with each passing second.

your body slams into the concrete, your head slamming against the hard surface. as stars form and dance at the edge of your vision, you can faintly see a dark figure looming over you.

the mysterious figure holds you down on the ground, but you manage to escape. soon after, you sprint up to your room, lock the door, and hide inside your closet. he slowly began following you, his pace was casual but his movements were calculated and precise. you were his to play with now.

you hear the running footsteps come to a stop right outside your bedroom door. you hold your breath as you hear the handle of your bedroom door rattle and move, someone trying to open it. you stay completely still you can hear footsteps pacing outside your door - whoever this was, is standing out there waiting for you.

after a brief pause, the door to your bedroom crashes open, and the shadowy, cloaked figure slowly makes its way into your room before stopping in front of the closet door.

you keep your hand pressed to your mouth, the silence and stillness in the room giving you goosebumps. you hold your breath as tight as you can, your eyes locked on the closet door.

suddenly the closet door flies open.

"boo."

the masked man pulls you forward and holds you tightly against his body. his chest was flushed against your back. your muffled screams are covered by a big gloved hand. you struggle to fight back, but your hands are flying everywhere, hitting everything all at once. you become even more panicked when you catch the glint of a knife out of the corner of your eye.

“shhh i only want to talk. can we at least speak without you screaming?" his voice was low and husky now, but calm. too calm. it was unsettling.

while his hand is still covering your mouth, you regain your composure as you feel the knife lightly graze your throat.

"good girl," his voice a low purr against your skin.

the glove-clad hand gently pulls away from your mouth and clamps around your throat.

the combination of the cold knife against your skin, hand squeezing your throat, and the adrenaline surge brought on by your fear sent a strange wave of pleasure down to your core, causing you to subconsciously clench your thighs.

"we can either have a civil conversation or things can go a completely different direction, it's your choice." you can feel the knife dragging gently as it moves from your neck to the valley of your breasts. as he's drinking in your presence, he notices your thighs tightly pressed together.

"does this excite you pretty girl?" the knife moves further down your body and slips under your underwear. you shudder slightly at the sensation of the cold blade pressing against your warm cunt. you were fighting it, you were going against your own desire to feel something for him, but he knew. he could sense it.

"fuck you." you say through gritted teeth.

you received no more than a slight head tilt from the masked assailant before being thrown onto your bed and pinned down, completely unable to move. your vision returns in a haze, and as you gain your bearings once more, your eyes lock onto the face of your aggressor. his hand is still wrapped tightly around your neck, but you do manage to move your free hand to remove his mask.

the person you thought would never hurt you appears in your vision as your closest friend.

"sam?" your eyes well up in tears. you couldn't believe this.

"no, no, no, no." you sob. it was impossible to accept what was happening. you would never think he would do something so insane after everything you and sam went through.

“why’d you have to go making things so difficult?” he asks, his voice dropping from the menacing tone he was using to the casual, friendly tone he often spoke in.

"you know i just wanted us to be together.”

"sam you're being crazy right now, ok? now please let me go-" you plead.

"just listen to me!" sam yells, shaking you harshly. your lips quickly clamp shut as you look up at him in absolute horror.

“i-i feel like you’re fighting something inside. you’re scared but underneath that fear, you’re feeling something. can't you feel it?" sam's eyes were wild and blown wide. the only thing you could make sense of amid all the craziness that raced through your head was that he wanted you.

how were you so blind? how could you miss it all these years of knowing him? you were utterly unaware of how he treated you, how he looked at you as though you were the only person on the planet.

"i'm so sorry sam...i just didn't know." tears begin spilling out your eyes. his face softens, his grip loosening around your neck. he touches the tears on your face, wiping them away with his thumb.

“it’s ok, it’s just us now," the intensity in his eyes was almost other worldly. his stare seemed to pull her in like a magnet. "i just didn't want you to have to see me like this, but i need you to understand how much we need each other." sam spoke to you in a sugary tone that made the hairs on your arms stand up.

"i understand but..." you trail off. "this isn't right."

“yes, it is. don’t you feel how right it is? don’t fight this, it’s always been meant to be.” he moves his face close to yours, his free hand lightly brushing your cheek. "i'd do anything for you, i'd kill for you." his vacant stare almost gave you the impression that it had already been executed.

you lock your gaze on his, your eyes pleading.

for a moment, something about his face softens, a sadness passing through his features. then he leans forward, his lips pressing against yours.

it’s the most gentle kiss you’ve ever known, making your body melt against him as if he weren't just chasing you through your house in a mask with a knife.

"sam, i can't..." you speak against his lips. he pulls back from the kiss, his fingers still brushing against your face.

“don’t make this harder than it has to be. give into us. just be mine, you and me together. please.” his smile falls, and he frowns as he watches your expression.

you stare up at him and think for a while.

you'd be lying to yourself if you said you never had feelings for sam. despite the fact that you fantasized about being together and even about him taking your virginity, you never imagined it would get this serious.

this time, when his lips find yours, it isn’t gentle and tender. he devours you in a kiss that says ‘we are one’, his lips moving feverishly against yours as he pulls you against him, making you moan into the kiss.

“there you go.” he murmurs, his voice breathy with desire. heat spreads through your body as you press closer to him, his arms wrapping around your body and pulling you close. his hands find their way to your hair, pulling your head closer to his as he bites your lower lip and sucks it into his mouth.

your hips buck up to meet his, the newfound friction spreading a heat across your body. his mouth pulls away from yours as he lets out a deep groan, his eyes filled with desire.

his breath comes in panting heaves, his eyes moving down your body.

"you don't know what you do to me." his hand move over your body, caressing every inch of you with love and desire.

his fingers find their way underneath your shirt, making you press closer to him for even more friction.

your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the feeling of sam's prominent bulge rocking against your aching core.

sam's eyes are full of hunger and desire, his breathing coming in shorter and shorter gasps as he locks his gaze with yours.

a moment passes between you and then his lips find yours once more, devouring your flesh as his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth. you let out a loud moan, gripping his body tight as he continues to kiss you passionately.

sam pulls away again, his eyes searching yours before he speaks, "i need you." his voice a raspy whisper as his eyes drink in the sight of your body.

his mouth finds yours once more, his hands moving to your shorts, roughly yanking them off along with your underwear. his hands grip you on either side of your waist, the heat in his grip only intensifying as you feel him lean forwards, pulling you closer into his body.

you hear sam fumble with his pants before you feel his tip graze against your slick folds before sliding in.

"sam...it hurts," you whine, feeling a sharp sting as he thrusted into your cunt. sam was so big that you didn't even need to see his cock to figure out how big he was. you could just feel it.

"just take it baby, you'll be ok." he says breathlessly. with each stroke, sam becomes more attuned to your body's responses, adjusting his movements to bring you pleasure while respecting your boundaries. the pain begins to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and an intoxicating mix of pleasure and vulnerability. your whimpers of discomfort are slowly replaced by moans of pleasure, surrendering yourself to the desires you never thought you would explore.

"so perfect," his voice is hushed as he continues to whisper into your ear, his lips close to your neck.

"n-need more..." you mewl. the feeling in your body is completely new. given the fact that you had touched yourself countless times before, this sensation was you ever experienced. you can just feel how much he loves and adores you - it almost seems as if you two were made for each other.

"i know you do sweet girl," he whispers, his tongue finding the space between your neck and your ear, licking and sucking the skin with passion. "and i'll give it to you, all of it. you're mine and only mine." you want this, you yearn for more of his touch, and he wants to give it to you.

you begin bucking your hips up to meet his harsh thrusts. sam revels in your reactions, his own sadistic pleasure fueling the intensity of the encounter.

“that’s it, baby, you're doing so good.” he runs a hand along your back, the skin under your shirt growing warm and tingly.

sam's touch intensifies, his thumb pressing firmly against your sensitive clit with an almost aggressive force. the friction between his thumb and your throbbing bundle of nerves sends waves of both pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that elusive climax. every sensation seems to be intensified, amplified by the dark aura that surrounds you.

"sam- m'gonna cum..." you whimper. your fingers grasp the hairs at the nape of his neck, earning a low groan from him.

"come on baby, cum on my cock...make it yours." his breathing was shallow, and his speech was harsh. he places his head on your shoulder. his whimpers and moans grew stronger, indicating that his orgasm was also nearing.

and then, it happens. a surge of pleasure floods your senses, radiating from your core and rippling through your entire being. the world fades away as you succumb to the overwhelming intensity of your orgasm, your cries of delight mingling with the echoes of the room.

sam's movements becoming slow as a low, guttural groan escapes his lips. you feel his thrust become weaker, the fervent grip on your skin tightening for a brief moment. the sound of his release echoes through the room, his cum spills inside you, warmth combining with the heat of your own desires. a primal satisfaction overtakes him, leaving him momentarily spent.

as the ripples of pleasure subside, you find yourself breathless, spent, and oddly satisfied. sam collapses on top of you, fatigue weighing heavily upon him, and he lays his head upon your chest. you can feel his warm breath against your skin, hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.

the lines that once divided you into predator and prey are now blurred, and you start to see him as more than just a threatening presence, a constant reminder of the thrilling taboo that has bound you both together.

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[ckret2]

Long time lurker, first time asker!

How do you keep different voices/characters in your fics so distinct? I'm writing my first longer than 2k word fic and it's... a time.

First, I'm going to link you the best essay I've ever read about How To Write Canon Character Voices—what's too much accent, what's too little, how to pay attention to word choice and the way they phrase things, etc. It's about Transformers but the skills are transferrable to other fandoms (or original writing). The original essay is down so all I can offer is the archive.org version, but it's worth it.

Second, I'm going to link you this post I wrote about how I study character voices. It's about Hazbin but it shows you the kinds of things I pay attention to when I'm learning a character voice.

Third, I'm going to offer you some extra general advice that isn't in the above posts:

Some people try to make characters sound like themselves by basically parroting their catch phrases or most common quotes. Do that and you're just gonna make your version of the character sound like a robot. (Note: if you're writing a character who only knows how to say a few quotes, that's okay lmao.) The readers already know what the characters said in canon, they're reading a fic to hear them say something new. Example: if you have Bill Cipher arrive on the scene and say "Did you miss me? Admit it, you missed me!" word-for-word, you don't sound like you're writing Bill, you sound like you're quoting Bill from That One Scene where He Said That Thing.

But... directly borrowing characters' quotes is kind of a stepping stone on the way toward figuring out how they speak. Think about things they've already said, but use those quotes as a guide for how to write them.

Example: from that quote above, we get that when Bill shows up around people who definitely did NOT miss him, he just... decides that they did and tells them so. This shows you a bit of his sense of humor (he makes jokes to annoy someone who hates him—it's not even a mean joke, just annoying), a bit of his ego (he knows he's clowning around, but even when he's clowning he's going to say something that makes himself sound popular rather than hated), his casual & familiar attitude with someone he barely knows, his tendency to just request people do what he wants (saying "admit it, you missed me" instead of something like "I know you missed me")... etc.

And I kinda already said this in the Hazbin post, but the most important thing you can do when you're struggling with a character voice is just rewatch their episodes and pay close attention to how they speak (or rewatch their movie scenes, or reread their chapters/comic issues—whatever you're writing about). If they're from a visual/audio medium (TV, movie, podcast, etc), then if need be, read transcripts to see how their voices look when written down. Type down the transcripts yourself if there aren't any—and that's also a good physical exercise to make you slow down and pay attention to how they speak. (You notice where they tend to pause in sentences when you're the one who has to decide where to put commas; you notice their accent when you're the one who has to decide whether that word sounds more like walking or walkin'.)

Pay attention to cadence, accent, interjections, sentence length, active voice, passive voice, preferred vocabulary, preferred slang, word choice, sentence length, sentence complexity, any phrases they're fond of (but again—don't overuse a phrase unless they overuse a phrase), how they tend to refer to the people around them (by first name, last name, any titles, any nicknames—and do they change in different contexts?)... Pay attention to anything you can think of. You want to be able to hear the character's voice clearly in your head—read everything you write in their voice, and if it doesn't sound like their voice in your head, change it.

[loulovingho]

You're a Piece of My Soul I Can't Let Go

10.5k; read below or on ao3; tags: presumed dead (no actual major character death), angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, panic, flashbacks, smut, witness protection, secret service

Buck didn't cry at the funeral.

It's not that he wasn't sad. He was heartbroken beyond repair.

The tears simply wouldn't fall.

He didn't show much emotional at all. Didn't listen to the speeches people gave. Didn't react when someone would give him a hug or a pat on the back. Didn't care about the words of encouragement by people who had no clue what it felt like to lose someone.

“Time will heal.”

“He's an angel now.”

“God needed him more.”

“Life goes on.”

“Hold yourself together for him.”

It was all bullshit.

The burial wasn't much different. He sat, unmoving, from his chair in the front row. Held out his hands when he presented with the folded flag. Heard the sniffs and cries from the people around him, but he remained stoic.

Nothing about this felt right.

There was a reception afterward at Bobby and Athena's place. Buck, wanting nothing to do with the limo that was reserved for family, had driven his Jeep to the cemetery.

He told Bobby he'd meet them at their place. Let Bobby wrap him in another hug before he left.

He didn't go to Bobby's.

Didn't want to talk to all those people. He had no desire to hear them laugh as they told stories about Tommy. They'd never know him like he did.

He went home instead. Back to the place he and Tommy shared.

It was Tommy's house, originally. Then Buck had moved in only five months into them dating. It seemed crazy at the time, but it worked. They were engaged two months later, married six months after that.

Four months of marriage. That's all they'd gotten. The ring around Buck's finger still felt new, and it was already over.

Seventeen months total. The best seventeen months of Buck's life.

And it was all gone.

Buck walked into the house that screamed Tommy, Tommy, Tommy everywhere he looked. There was the couch they had picked out together. The lamp that Tommy had knocked off the table twice, yet somehow never broke. The kitchen where they realized they were far too old to be having sex on a countertop. The clock on the wall that played obnoxious music every hour that Buck hated but Tommy loved, so it was only ever on if Buck had to work and Tommy was at home.

His houseplants he killed regularly.

The TV they splurged on because Tommy both loved watching movies and loved watching Buck watch movies.

The bedroom, two nightstands. One side almost empty because all Buck needed was a lamp and a spot for his phone at night. The other side with a lamp, charger, reading glasses, chapstick, and a glass of water that now had a thin film of dust covering the top.

Buck toed off his shoes and walked to the bed, lying down. He pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced it before setting it on his nightstand. He didn't want to be bothered. Maddie could see his location, would know he was fine. That was enough.

He curled onto his side, facing Tommy's side of the bed. He tugged at Tommy's pillow, moving it so it rested lengthwise against his body. He snuggled it tightly. Closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Tommy's shampoo and cologne, still fresh on the pillowcase.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.

Nothing about this felt right.

“What's the matter?” Tommy asked immediately upon entering the kitchen. Buck had his eyebrows drawn tightly together as he stared at a can of coconut milk. That was never a good sign.

“I got the wrong thing,” Buck pouted. “I was supposed to get coconut cream and I picked up the milk.”

“I'm guessing they're not interchangeable?”

Buck gave him a look that asked the question, “Are you crazy?” without saying a word.

“Right.” Tommy began searching the room for his keys, “I will go get you your coconut cream.”

“No, I can get it,” Buck put the can down and headed for the stove. “I'll let Bobby know dinner will be a little late,” he said, switching off a couple of the burners, “and then-”

Buck was cut off by Tommy wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You keep cooking,” he insisted, “I'll get the cream.”

Buck smiled softly, leaning further into Tommy's touch. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Buck turned his head for a kiss on the lips before Tommy unraveled himself from him.

“Keys?” Tommy asked.

“Coffee table.”

“Right! Thank you. Love you, Babe. Be right back.”

“Love you too.”

Three days was all the bereavement pay a city employee was allotted after the death of a family member. Bobby had managed to space out Buck's shifts enough to give him seven days before he had to dip into his vacation time.

It didn't matter anyway. He hadn't used his vacation days in a long time. Had been saving them for a long roadtrip with...

It didn't matter. He didn't need those vacation days anymore.

A part of him had thought about going back to work. He had gotten dressed and everything. Had his keys and was headed out the door. He couldn't seem to make it past the doorframe.

He typed a simple text to Bobby, taking vacation day, silenced his phone and got back into bed. Bed, bathroom, kitchen, bed, bathroom, kitchen, the same path for the next week.

People would come to the door, knock and knock and knock, but he made no effort to let them in.

When they'd text, he'd respond so they knew he was alive, but also knew to leave him alone.

I need some time, he'd text them, please let me have time to myself.

That worked for a while, until Eddie decided to screw it all and use the spare key he had to let himself in.

“Buck?” he called out as he gently opened the front door. “Buck, you here?”

He walked into the dark house, all the curtains drawn and not a single light on. After peeking into the kitchen and living room, he made his way to the bedroom. The door was cracked, so he nudged it open until he could see Buck lying on the bed, facing away from the door.

He was under the covers, cuddling a pillow close to him.

“Buck?” Eddie whispered.

He waited a few seconds and was just about to head out to the living room until Buck woke up, when he heard a, “Hm?”

“You awake?”

“I'm not a sleep talker,” Buck muttered grumpily. He turned just enough to look at Eddie. “Why're you here?”

“To check on you.”

Buck folded himself back over the pillow, closing his eyes. “Told you I'm fine.”

“Yeah... don't really believe you, bud.” Eddie walked over to the other side of the bed so he could face Buck. Sunlight peeked through the curtains enough for Eddie to see that, surprisingly, Buck didn't look like he'd been crying.

He just looked tired. Staying in bed for two weeks could do that to a person.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie said, “let's go out to the living room. Get you something to eat.”

“Already ate,” Buck mumbled into the pillow.

“When?”

Buck sighed. “What time is it?”

“Three o'clock in the afternoon.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

Reluctantly, Buck sat up in bed, sending a glare to Eddie. “I ate at one.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “On what day?”

God, Buck hated when he got all parental with him. Made him feel like a child. “Wednesday.”

“Up,” Eddie demanded, snapping his fingers. “Now.”

Buck was too tired to fight him. He knew the quicker he went along, ate whatever Eddie wanted him to eat, talked about whatever Eddie wanted him to talk about, he could get him out of his house.

He pulled the covers off of him and got out of bed, scooting his feet as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

Eddie couldn't help but noticed how much weight Buck had lost over the last couple of weeks. It made him feel awful for waiting so long to force himself into Buck's home. He was trying to be respectful. Trying to give Buck the space he kept requesting. He'd get those texts from Buck every time he knocked on the door, and he'd leave because he was asked to. That's what they'd all been doing. He knew now that was a mistake.

“I don't wanna eat much,” Buck said, staring straight ahead at the TV.

“I already ordered some wonton soup from China Wok. It'll be here in a minute.” Eddie sat on the other end of the couch. “Talk to me, Buck. Please.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

Buck's eyes scanned the living room. Dead flowers were scattered around, all sent somewhere between the day after Tommy's body was found up until a few days ago. Buck had managed to bring them into the house, just so no one called in a wellness check on him, but he didn't bother with keeping them alive.

What was the point? They'd die eventually anyway.

“I haven't dreamt since he... since they... you know.”

Eddie was thrown off guard by the admission, expecting it to be harder for Buck to confide in him. “None at all?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Used to. Used to have a lot of dreams. Not anymore.”

“Buck, I know what it's like to-”

“Don't,” Buck interrupted, looking at Eddie for the first time since they sat down. “Please, I- I've gotten so many 'I know what you're going through' texts from people and it doesn't help.”

Eddie nodded. “I understand.”

Buck turned his attention down to his hands, thumbs twiddling together nervously. “Can I- Can I tell you something really dumb?”

“Sure!” Eddie exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I love hearing dumb things.”

Buck managed a small smile. It faded faster than it had appeared. “I- Sometimes it doesn't feel, um, feel real to me. Like, I don't believe he's gone. That, um, that feeling that you get when someone has- when they've died. I- I don't have that.”

“Accepting it's happened is one of the hardest things to do, Buck. That's normal.”

“I haven't even cried,” Buck admitted. “Not since the day I was told he... he was gone.”

“That's normal too.”

Eddie didn't understand. Buck knew he wouldn't. “I don't know,” he breathed out, more to himself than to Eddie.

“Don't know what?”

The doorbell rang, pulling them out of their discussion. Buck was grateful. He didn't feel like talking anymore.

“Ready to eat?” Eddie asked, clapping his hands together as he got up and headed for the door.

“Mhm,” Buck lied. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. He just needed to get through this meal, then Eddie would leave, and he could go back to bed.

He needed to get back to bed.

“It doesn't make any sense to me. At all.”

“You're not letting this go anytime soon, are you?”

“They didn't end up together in the end, Evan! Why'd they even say the movie was a romantic comedy? What's the point?”

Buck reached over and took Tommy's hand from where it rested on the center console. “I think they did it on purpose,” he surmised, “to spite you.”

“I agree, those bastards.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze, “they are fictional, so you know, they didn't really mind that they weren't together in the end.”

“Hm.” Tommy thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, that doesn't make me feel any better at all.”

Buck shrugged. “I tried.”

“They had everything planned, Evan,” Tommy said, continuing his rant. “They had their whole future planned and they threw it all away in the end? Ugh, I can't.”

“Maybe it was to show that she found herself, you know, without him. That's not a bad thing.”

“It's not a bad thing at all, if I'm properly warned that that's what the movie is going to be about. It is a bad thing when you call the movie a romantic comedy.”

“Is there someone we should be writing a strongly worded letter to?” Buck asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tommy shot a meaningless glare in his direction. “You joke now, but I wasn't the only one crying in the theater.”

“Who said I was joking?” Buck asked. “I- I love a strongly worded letter. We can whip out some paper and a pen the second we get home.”

Buck could feel Tommy's body start to relax. His face softened as he stole another glance at Buck before turning back to the road. “I love that you're my husband.”

Buck brought Tommy's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I love that you're mine.”

Buck stared down at his wedding band. It had been a month now. A month since he'd last seen Tommy. A month and five days since their last date.

“Buck... Buck?”

Buck looked up to Hen watching him from across the truck. They were on their way to a call. Some small fire in the middle of nowhere with no people around. It'd be an easy call. Buck was grateful for that. This would be his fourth shift back at work, although it was his first full 24-hour one.

“Yeah?” he asked, ignoring the fact that Chimney and Eddie were giving him side glances as well.

“You good?”

He'd be angry at the question if anyone else had asked. He knew his temper was shorter than it ever used to be. Knew even the smallest things could set him off. He often had to force himself to stay calm. Take some deep breaths and count to ten before responding to someone.

He didn't have to do that with Hen though. Her voice was soothing to him. A calm against the stormy sea that was his mind.

Buck nodded. “I'm good.”

“You want in?”

He paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. “In on what?”

“We're placing bets on what caused the fire,” Chimney explained. “I said kids smoking in the woods.”

“I'm going with the sun beating down on a glass bottle.” Eddie looked proud of his choice.

“Old fashioned illegal campfire for me.” Hen smiled softly at Buck. “You?”

“Oh, um, nah. I- I'm good.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie reached over and nudged Buck's knee. “Take a guess.”

Buck took a deep breath. Thought for a moment. “Fireworks, I- yeah. Fireworks.”

“In the middle of the day?” Chimney questioned.

Hen shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time. Okay, Cap,” she said, fiddling with her headset, “what about you?”

Buck phased back out as Bobby made his guess. He tugged at his ring, twirling it around and around on his finger. He thought about the inscription on the inside. One Four Three. Had to force himself out of that memory before he could even start to get into it.

It all felt like too much. Too overwhelming. He needed to get himself together.

He sat up straight and cleared his throat.

He could do this. He could get through this shift. Get home. Get into bed. Stay there for forty-eight hours before he'd have to pretend again.

...He didn't even care that he won the bet.

“I've tried calling him like five times,” Buck said. He was sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, Bobby and Athena sitting across from him. “I- I'm sorry about dinner, guys-”

“Don't even think about it,” Athena interrupted. “Bobby, you having any luck?”

Bobby shook his head. “I've texted him a few times but they're not going through.”

“Something's wrong. He wouldn't... Something's wrong. His location isn't on anymore either.”

“Okay.” Athena pulled out her phone. “Where did you say he was going?”

“Ralph's. He was just getting me some coconut cream for my recipe. I- I said I'd go but he insisted. That was over two hours ago. I, um, I should drive there and check.” He went to get up but Athena held out a hand to stop him.

“I'll go,” she said. “You and Bobby stay. Let me know if he shows up. I've got my badge and everything out in the car, so I can ask around at the store if I can't find him. His phone probably died and they were out of the right stuff at Ralph's, so he went somewhere else.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe,” Buck replied, but he could see the look Athena gave Bobby out of the corner of his eye.

He knew nothing in his life was ever that simple.

He stumbled upon the video by accident. He was looking for a picture of a recipe that Maddie had asked for when his finger hit the wrong thumbnail and the video began to play.

It was one he took without Tommy knowing. A rare rainy day in Los Angeles gave them the opportunity to relax at home instead of run errands or make plans.

Buck was splayed out on the couch, head on the armrest and his legs on Tommy's lap. Tommy had a crossword over Buck's legs, staring at it with an intensity usually reserved for flying into dangerous situations.

“If twenty-one across is evergreen, then eighteen down can't be carpet.”

“I thought you said eighteen down had to be carpet?” Buck asked off camera.

“It does, Evan,” Tommy placed the pen between his teeth. “It really does.”

“Then evergreen is wrong.”

Tommy shook his head. “Nope. It's gotta be evergreen.”

“We've been going over this for almost an hour now, Tommy,” Buck said, huffing out a laugh. “Give it up.”

“I've never been this close to finishing a Sunday crossword!” Tommy whined, the smile on his face betraying the seriousness of his voice. “If I give up now, I'll never forgive myself.”

“If you give up now I'll let you blow me as a consolation prize,” Buck offered cheekily.

Tommy gasped, glancing at Buck with a look of betrayal. “Sabotage!” he exclaimed. “I have to finish this, babe, or my name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard!”

“Your name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard,” Buck replied, the video shaking with his laughter. “It's Buckley-Kinard.”

Tommy froze. He clicked his pen closed and tossed it, along with the paper, on the coffee table. He turned to Evan, his eyes darkening, “About that consolation prize?”

Buck found himself smiling as the video ended. He'd taken it only three weeks after their wedding. The video wasn't even old, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, the living room felt cold. Buck's spot on the couch now uncomfortable. The silence a stark contrast to all the life in that memory. For two months now he'd had nothing but silence in his home, besides the far too occasional visits from his friends and family. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't the same as having Tommy.

The smile on Buck's face faded. He got up and headed to the bedroom to lie down.

Maddie would have to get that recipe another day.

“We're all set to clear out here,” Bobby said over the radio. “Great work everyone.”

The call had been a big one. A four alarm fire that required the assistance of multiple stations.

“This is Firefighter Pilot Kinard of Harbor Station for Firefighter Buckley of 118, over,” Tommy's voice came over the radio. He had been providing assistance from the chopper, now hovering above them as he set to head back.

Buck glanced around at the rest of the 118, all stopping what they were doing to watch him and listen in. “Go for Buckley.”

“Looking for confirmation on a code one-four-three.”

“One-four-three confirmed and returned.”

“Excellent. Returning to Harbor Station.”

“What the hell is a one-four-three?” Chimney asked once the sounds from the chopper were off in the distance.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It's their way of saying 'I love you' after a big call.”

Buck smiled. “We usually text it to each other,” he explained, a blush rising on his cheeks, “just to let the other know we're alright. Guess he couldn't get to his phone.”

Hen put a hand to her stomach. “That's so preciously sickening I might throw up.”

“Okay, okay, come on guys,” Bobby said, waving the group toward the truck, “give Buck a break-”

“Thank you, Cap.”

“-for now. We can make fun of him on the way back to the station.”

“Hey!”

It was the longest, most grueling shift Buck had had since he could remember. He had only managed a couple hours of sleep, and that was often in fifteen minute increments. The worst part was the majority of calls were from people being stupid. Accidents that could have been prevented had a single person with half a brain been anywhere around.

All Buck wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Which is why he was not so pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to Maddie's car in his driveway.

She greeted him at the door with a hug, and he faked a smile as he hugged back. “Why're you here?” he asked, trying to sound polite.

“Well, you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd come over and help with the housecleaning.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” The overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies made him feel a bit lightheaded as he walked further into the house, dropping his duffel on the dining room table. “It looks great in here.”

That wasn't a lie. She had made the place spotless. He wasn't a messy person himself but he couldn't deny he'd let certain things, like mopping and dusting, go over the past few months.

“It's the least I could do,” she replied. “I won't stay long, Howie texted me about how busy you guys were. Needed an excuse to see you though. It's... It's been a while.”

Two and a half weeks, to be exact. No fault of Maddie's either. She'd make plans with him, and he'd cancel last minute.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I've been, uh, trying to get things back in order. I'm just- I'm still kind of...”

“It's okay,” she assured him. “Really. I understand.”

“Let me, um, let me go put my jacket up,” he said, tugging at it, “and we'll talk for a little bit before you go.” He didn't want to. No desire for small talk, or talk of any kind, but he couldn't kick her out of the house after all she'd done for him.

She smiled. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He headed to his bedroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the doorway.

“Did you... Did you wash my sheets?”

“I did,” Maddie replied, coming up behind him. Her voice was far too nonchalant for the blinding rage that was slowly seeping up inside him.

“All of them? Like, the pillowcases too?”

“Uh, yeah? Why would I only wash some of your sheets, Buck?”

Buck hurried over to the far side of the bed, throwing the comforter and sheets back to get to Tommy's pillow.

He didn't care if he looked like a crazy person. He brought the pillow up to his face and took a deep breath in.

It smelled like Gain.

It made him want to throw up.

“Buck, what's wrong?” She was clearly worried, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

“I didn't ask you to do this, Maddie,” he said angrily, tossing the pillow back on the bed. “I- I didn't ask you to do any of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Buck, I'm sorry if I-”

“I need you to leave.”

“Buck-”

“Leave!”

She stood firmly in place. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

“I- I, everyone keeps trying to help me,” he huffed, “and I don't want it! I don't want Eddie coming over for dinner! I don't want Hen taking me out for drinks! I don't want Chimney taking me to a movie! I don't want Bobby texting me every damn day! And I don't want you to be my maid!”

“We're just trying to help you, Evan-”

“Don't call me that!” He spewed.

He was breathing heavily. The stinging in his eyes surprised him. It'd been so long since he had last cried. He didn't particularly feel like crying right now, but apparently his body did. He groaned, sitting down on Tommy's side of the bed and staring out the window. He brought Tommy's pillow to his chest, and began to sob.

Maddie was by his side in seconds, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a hug. 'I'm so sorry, Buck. I'm so sorry.” She was crying too. Buck could feel her tears wetting his shirt. He wasn't even sure why she was apologizing. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, he should be apologizing for snapping at her so harshly.

If he could speak, he would have told her as much. Would have told her that his head was a jumbled mess that he couldn't seem to clear. That nothing about this felt real. That he felt like Tommy was still there, somewhere, with them.

That it'd been four months since he'd had a dream. How he missed dreaming. They were always so vivid, him and Tommy, living their lives together.

Now, there was just darkness. An endless abyss of black every time he closed his eyes.

He'd tell her how his memories haunted him. The dreams may not exist, but the memories would appear out of nowhere at the worst times. They'd plague him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape them.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he was able to find his voice. Before he was able to bring himself out of Maddie's embrace. He kept a tight hold on the pillow, fingers messing with a pulled thread at the edge. “It s- smelled like him,” he said, his lip still trembling. “I'd... I'd wash everything else but, um, I- I couldn't wash this.”

“Oh, Buck, I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

“I know. It's okay. I- I know you were trying to help. It's okay.”

“Do you still have some of his cologne?”

Buck nodded and Maddie got up to go into the bathroom.

“Where?” she asked.

“Far sink, open the cabinet, black bottle.”

She returned a few seconds later with a bottle in hand, held out for Buck to see. “This one?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to spray it?”

He laid the pillow out flat and Maddie sprayed it a couple of times.

“I really miss him, Maddie,” Buck admitted quietly, inhaling the scent of his cologne as it passed through the air.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

“Bobby, it's been twenty-four hours of nothing. I'm freaking out.”

Bobby hadn't left Buck since he'd arrived the day before. Athena had worked all night putting out alerts for Tommy and his vehicle, but hadn't gotten anywhere.

He and Buck had left two different times to go driving around. The rest of the 118 had gone searching as well, going to places he frequented, driving down any and every back road they could find.

Nothing.

Now, back at the house to rest for a minute, and make sure Tommy hadn't come back home, Buck was in a full blown panic.

“I know, Buck, but we're all doing everything we can,” Bobby replied, leading Buck to the couch. “Athena's got officers searching the whole city for his car. He'll be found.”

“But what if-”

“No,” Bobby sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face Buck, “you're not gonna think like that, Buck.”

“Bobby,” his voice was pleading and his eyes red. “You know s- something's wrong. H- He wouldn't do this. You know that.”

Bobby sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he could even say, when the doorbell rang.

Buck's heart started pounding right away. Athena wouldn't ring the doorbell. She'd knock. So would anyone from the 118, except Eddie. Eddie would come right on in.

He was shaking as he got up and walked to the door, Bobby close behind him.

“Detective John Farrow,” a man introduced the second Buck opened the door. “Are you Evan Buckley-Kinard?”

Buck nodded. “I- Yes. I- I am.”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard, I'm sorry to inform you...”

The sound of the detective's voice was replaced by a ringing in Buck's ears. He felt dizzy. His vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was Bobby catching him as he fell.

Agreeing to lunch at Maddie's with his parents was a mistake. He knew that from the moment he said yes. He'd been working on controlling his temper. Not overreacting at the small things.

There was still more work to be done.

“So,” Margaret began, everyone settled at the table. Maddie looked up to see her eyes on Buck. The look Margaret was giving him already made her want to scream. “There's really no easy way to say this, Evan-”

“Then maybe you shouldn't say it,” Maddie suggested. Chimney placed a hand on her back, rubbing gently to try and ease the tension.

Buck remained quiet, eyes directed toward his mother with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I'm simply asking,” Margaret continued, “if you've, you know, gotten back out there any?”

“Margaret,” Phillip warned under his breath. Maddie knew that if their dad wasn't even on their mom's side, this was never going to end civilly.

Maddie swore Buck's eyes went dark. “Buck-” Maddie started, but he cut her off.

“You're not seriously asking me if I'm dating six months after my husband died, are you, Mom?”

“Not dating, but getting back out into the world. I- I've heard so much about you staying holed up in your house, only leaving to go to work, and that worries me, Evan.”

“Stop calling me, Evan,” Buck demanded.

Margaret raised her hands in surrender. “I'm sorry,” she said, and she meant it. The name sometimes slipped out without her realizing it. She had been warned that the name triggered Buck in a way it never had before. Even though others had used it on occasion before, Evan had become Tommy's name for him. And with him gone, Buck didn't want to hear it from anyone. “I'm sorry, Buck. I just don't want to see you wasting away. It's hard for a mother to see her child suffer like this.”

“Were you over Daniel's death in six months?” Buck asked bitterly. “Were you back out there? Cause I seem to remember it being about thirty years before you even mentioned his name. And you only did that once Maddie told me about him.”

Tears filled Maddie's eyes. “Buck,” she spoke softly. She desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“That's not fair, Buck,” Margaret answered, her voice shaking. “Daniel was my child.”

“And Tommy was my husband!” Buck slammed his napkin on the table, rising to his feet. “We had planned a future together! We were saving up for a house, we were planning on having kids, we talked about what we'd do when we retired! Hell, we planned weekly grocery shopping trips together! All these things got ripped out from under me, and I'm supposed to just get back out there? Are you crazy?”

“Hey,” Phillip stood across from him, “that's too far. Your mother wasn't trying to be malicious.”

Buck shook his head, then began to head for the door. “This was a mistake. I- I'm gonna go.”

“Buck, wait-” Maddie went to get up, but Chimney placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me,” he said, walking out after Buck.

“Wait a minute, Buck!” Chimney jogged a few steps to catch up to him.

Buck stopped at his Jeep, hand on the door handle. “I'm not going back in.”

“Wasn't gonna ask you to. Just want to make sure you're okay.”

Buck let out a humorless laugh, turning back to Chimney. “Well, apparently I only stay holed up in my house except to go to work, so you tell me if I'm okay.”

“Maddie didn't say it like that to them, Buck, please don't be mad at her. She's worried about you. We all are.”

Buck scoffed. “Just leave me alone for tonight,” he said, getting into his Jeep. “I'll see you at work on Friday.”

“He flashed the ring three times today,” Eddie said, scooting back into the bench. After work they'd all met Tommy at the bar for a few drinks before heading home.

“Four,” Hen corrected.

“Nope.” Chimney took a sip of his beer. “Five.”

Tommy grinned at Buck. “Really? Five times? Can't say I blame them, I do have a hot fiancé.”

“Oh, my guy was not flirting,” Chimney stated. “Buck asked him if he liked the way the ring shimmered in the sunlight.”

“Mhm,” Hen agreed. “My girl wasn't flirting either. Buck noticed she had an ultrasonic ring cleaner in her bathroom and asked if she was happy with her purchase because, and I quote, 'I just got engaged and I want to make sure my ring stays perfect forever.'”

“Okay, guys,” Buck said with a groan, “we get it. I'm lame.”

“I don't think it's lame.” Tommy rested his hand on Buck's knee. “I think it's adorable. I love that you're excited to get married.”

A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. “I am excited,” he agreed, leaning in for a kiss. “Very excited.”

“Before this gets pg-13,” Eddie interrupted, “the two men I had were definitely flirting, but they both got the hint after the first 'fiancé' was thrown out there. Buck threw in two more for good measure. The other person- not flirting.”

“What about you?” Hen asked Tommy. “Did you get any offers you had to turn down today?”

“Well, I was thousands of feet in the air for both of the calls I went on, so any prospects would have had to look at me through some really good binoculars and then steal a radio to tell me they were into me, so no. No offers.”

“The guy in the bathroom definitely flirted with you like ten minutes ago, Dude,” Eddie said with a laugh.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. “No he didn't.”

“He for sure did. Man was jacked and he was asking for your workout routine.”

“He said he wanted to switch things up!” Tommy exclaimed.

Eddie snorted. “Oh, he definitely wanted to switch things up.”

“What? Who is this man?” Buck eyes darted around the bar. “Where is he?”

“Don't worry about it Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “Tommy didn't even realize it. Gave the guy a five minute rundown of how he gets the perfect squat. Your man only has eyes for you.”

Buck settled back into his seat, leaning into Tommy's side as Tommy pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. “That's true,” he whispered into Buck's ear.

Buck rested his head on Tommy's shoulder, ignoring the teasing gag sounds that came from the others around them.

If it were possible, he'd stay like this forever.

He should have expected this.

It should have happened sooner, if he were being honest.

He was lucky to go seven months without a call that hit too close to home.

There had been a hit and run. The car that was hit had flipped twice, landed right side up, and immediately burst into flames.

The man in the driver's seat never stood a chance.

Buck was okay while they hurried to get out the flames. He'd ignored the glances from the rest of the team, ignored Bobby's suggestion to stay by the engine, ignored the thoughts in the back of his head telling him to sit this one out.

It wasn't until the fire was out and he saw the man's body, burnt so severely he looked more like a halloween decoration than a human, that Buck lost it.

No matter how much he wanted to look away, his eyes were fixed on the body. His heart rate was speeding up quickly, each breath short and sharp and painful.

He hadn't even realized that tears were falling down his face. Or that he was letting out little noises similar to a dog's whine. He had his helmet in his hand, shaking so much it was vibrating against his leg.

Buck didn't even notice the bystanders watching him, some of them whispering, others pulling out their phones.

It felt like hours, but Bobby was in front of him within seconds. “We're gonna walk away, Buck,” he said calmly but firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. “We're gonna walk away and go sit behind the engine. Come on.”

Buck let Bobby guide him to a quite spot behind the fire truck, sitting on the curb. Bobby took his helmet from him and tossed it somewhere, then sat down beside him.

“I'm sorry,” Buck breathed out, wiping over his face with his hand.

“You don't ever have to apologize for being human, Buck.”

“I don't know how to do this,” he confessed through sobs. “I don't- I don't know how to keep g- going.”

“The path through grief isn't linear,” Bobby explained. “Hell, it's not really much of a path you get through at all. More like a loop.”

“So this is... This is m- my forever?” He asked, voice rising in despair.

“No. Not exactly. You do learn how to manage it better over time, but it takes time, Buck. And it takes letting the people around you help you, instead of pushing them away.”

“I don't mean to,” Buck said as he began to calm down. “It just takes so much energy. Everything is exhausting. Talking to people is- is so exhausting.”

“I know. Buck, you've seen grief. It's been around you since you were a baby. I'm not saying there's any right or wrong way to grieve, but I think you know how dangerous it is to lose yourself in it.” Bobby put his arm around him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “No one expects you to be exactly who you were before you lost Tommy. I'll never be the same person I was, Eddie won't be the same person he was, Chimney won't be who he was before losing his brother, I could go on and on. But we- I need you to realize you're still here, you're still breathing, and Tommy wouldn't want you to disappear.”

Buck nodded, a new wave of tears taking over him.

Bobby pulled him close and let him cry.

“How many kids do you want?”

Buck and Tommy were sat on the front porch steps watching the sunset behind the trees across the street.

“Uh,” Tommy paused, caught off guard. “I don't know. Haven't really thought about it.”

Buck shrugged. “We've talked about wanting kids, but we've never talked about how many we want.”

“Hm. Two sounds nice. Kinda close together so they can grow up with each other. You?”

“Two's good,” he agreed. “But we'd need a bigger house.”

“Oh, for sure. This one barely fits the two of us.”

“And I'd like for us to be married a while first. Settled, you know?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “You proposing?”

“Ha! Like this? No.” Buck took Tommy's hand in his and they settled into a comfortable silence. After a couple minutes, Buck squeezed Tommy's hand to get his attention. “I have, um, I've been thinking about it though. Um, about proposing,” he said, staring deep into Tommy's eyes to see what kind of response he'd get. When Tommy appeared surprised, Buck panicked a bit. “Is that, um, is- is that weird? To be thinking about it so soon?”

“What? Oh, God, no, Evan. I,” he laughed, “I've actually been thinking about it too. For a while now.”

Buck looked as shocked as the night Tommy first kissed him. “Really?”

“Really. I've been googling rings, looking for the perfect one. Kept trying to talk myself out of it because I wasn't sure if you'd think it was too fast but-”

Tommy's words were cut off by Buck's mouth on his, so forceful it nearly toppled them both over.

“Oh! Mmm,” Tommy moaned into the kiss, resting his hand at the base of Buck's neck.

“Yes,” Buck said, dazed as he pulled back far enough to speak.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Bu- Evan, I didn't ask yet. Not the- I don't have a ring.”

“I don't care, Tommy. Yes. I'm saying yes. Yes?”

It took Tommy's mouth a second to catch up with his brain, but once it did he was nodding, his eyes filling with tears. “Yes. Of course, yes,” he replied, both of them laughing giddily before crashing their lips back together.

Everyone except for Hen was upstairs relaxing between calls. Bobby and Buck were at the table, planning out next week's meals. Eddie was fixing himself a cup of coffee. Chimney was on the couch, reading a book.

“We're all going out for beers after our shift,” Eddie said, glancing at Buck. “You in?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah, I'm in.”

He'd been trying lately. Trying to do things other than work and sleep. He'd gone to the zoo with Jee a couple times over the past month. He'd gone to Bobby's for dinner. Watched a game at Eddie's place. Met Maddie and Chimney for brunch. He'd even gone over to Hen's one night when she was home alone and they'd gotten hammered while discussing their various traumas.

Every one of these occasions had ended with him in his car, or a cab, sobbing uncontrollably.

But he was trying.

Hen walked up the stairs, a worried expression on her face. “What's up with you?” Chimney asked, first to notice.

“Uh... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“There's a... a secret service agent here for you.”

All eyes were on her now.

A... a what?”

Before Hen could get in another word, a man in a suit walked up behind her.

Buck stood, recognizing the man right away. It was the same man who had come to his door to let him know about Tommy. His heart sunk. How could this possibly get worse?

“Detective Farrow?”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard,” he greeted. “It's actually Special Agent Farrow, but you can all me John.”

“I- I don't-”

“I know this is a bit odd,” he continued, “and was not something I actually wanted to do. I was going to hold off until you were home, but he refused to wait another minute.”

“I- what are you talking about? Who?”

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs interrupted whatever John was about to reply.

Suddenly there was a very familiar, very alive Tommy standing in front of them, smiling brightly at the sight of Buck. “Hi, Evan.”

“Holy shit.” The words escaped Chimney's mouth without him realizing.

Hen followed right after with an, “Oh my God.”

Eddie felt his coffee cup slip from his hand and shatter against the countertop. No one even noticed.

Bobby was standing right beside Buck, thankfully, because he had to quickly reach out and grab onto him before he fell to the ground. He managed to whip a chair around and get Buck seated as he stared, mouth agape, at his husband.

His alive husband.

His breathing husband.

His not-buried-in-the-cemetery husband.

“Evan,” Tommy stepped forward, but Buck held his arm out to stop him.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tommy was confused. Buck sounded angry, and scared. He looked around at all the other faces staring back at him. “Why... Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost?” he asked.

Chimney walked up to Tommy, poking him on the shoulder. “Because you're dead. At least, you're supposed to be.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “I'm what?” He turned to John. “Why would they think that?”

John cleared his throat, eyes gazing downward. “There's a lot we need to discuss, Mr. Buckley-Kinard.”

“Why would they think I was dead?” Tommy repeated, angry now.

“Because that's what we were told,” Hen answered.

Tommy stepped closer to John. “You told them I was dead?”

“We couldn't risk anyone knowing-”

“You told my husband I was dead?!”

“-that you were alive. It would have put everyone-”

“And you lied to me to keep me there?!”

“-in danger. It was easier this way.”

“That was not the deal!”

“Everyone shut up!” Buck's voice rang out over the station. He got out of his seat, Bobby keeping a hand near his back until he was sure Buck was steady.

Buck cautiously moved toward Tommy, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You- You're really here?”

All of the anger Tommy had for John fell away as he looked into Buck's eyes. He nodded. “I'm here. I'm so sorry, Buck, I didn't-”

Buck shook his head, “I- I don't care right now.” He brought a hand up to Tommy's chest. Felt the thump-thump-thump of his heart. The firmness of his chest. He felt up until he reached Tommy's collarbone, poking ever so slightly out from his shirt. Felt the warmth of his skin. The slight dip that led up to his neck that Buck always loved to linger on when they were alone in bed. He felt the roughness of a two day old beard as he felt up his neck and toward his jawbone. “My God.” The words were hushed, breathed out through trembling lips and red-rimmed eyes. He pressed their lips together so quickly, so urgently, that Tommy didn't even have time to register it. He moaned into the kiss, finally reaching out and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist, finding their home at the base of his back.

“Let's give them a minute,” Bobby said, gesturing for everyone to head downstairs.

“I need to brief them,” John replied, earning him a glare from everyone else in the room.

“We're giving them a minute,” Bobby demanded.

John didn't try to protest any further. He simply followed the others downstairs, allowing Buck and Tommy time to reconnect.

“I didn't know,” Tommy began, he and Buck seated on the couch. “I was never told that you thought I was dead.”

“I am so confused, Tommy, I don't... I'm not even sure if this is real, to be honest. Am I dreaming? I haven't... I haven't had a dream since you died. Is that what this is?”

Tommy shook his head. “It's not a dream, Evan.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Buck asked, going from anxious to frustrated, “Cause I'm kinda pissed.”

Tommy scooted closer to Buck, cautiously holding out his hands for Buck to take. There was hesitation, but Buck gave in.

“The night I went to the grocery store, I saw something. I, it was a murder.”

Buck's eyes widened. “A what?”

“Yeah, I know. When I was leaving the store, I went out the back way to avoid all the traffic at the main entrance. It was getting dark, and when I passed by the dumpsters out back I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I- this guy had shot another man. I got a good look at him, and he got a good look at me too, but he ran. I got out of the car, called 911, and tried to help the other guy, but he was dead.”

“I... My brain feels like it's about to explode, Tommy. I don't understand how this leads to me planning your funeral.”

Tears came to Tommy's eyes at the thought. He continued, “The police came first, and they were asking for descriptions and any information I had. Then, the FBI shows up, and the CIA, and suddenly I'm surrounded by agents from every agency that goes by initials. This guy, whoever I saw, was apparently a hitman. A good one. Like, ties to Russia and shit. Anyway, I'm being tossed into a van and told my life's in danger because this guy saw me.”

“This sounds like a really bad cop thriller, Tommy.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know, believe me. But these agents are telling me that I need protection, this man has killed for less before, blah blah blah. They said he'd killed an entire family because the mom had witnessed one of his hits.”

Buck scoffed. “Apparently he's not that good if he keeps getting caught.”

“Evan,” Tommy said, eyes pleading, “they showed me crime scene pictures of what this man had done. Told me he'd do the same to you if I went home. It was... It was horrific.”

“They wouldn't even let you call me? Tell me you were okay? I was- I went through hell these past eight months.”

“They took my phone, said anything electronic was a risk. Said if I declined protection, if I went home to you, I was basically signing your death certificate. But I told them- I told them that I had to let you know something and they said to write you a letter. I wrote one every week. They said they'd deliver it to you.”

“They did not deliver any letters.”

“Yeah, I'm getting that now. Evan, I swear I had no idea they were going to tell you I was dead. No idea.” Tommy clung onto Buck's hands tighter, and Buck couldn't ignore the pang in his chest at having Tommy in front of him. Alive. With him. Beside him. Holding him.

“I believe you.” He was being honest. He did believe Tommy. He knew Tommy would do anything to keep him safe. He also knew Tommy would never agree to making Buck feel the way he had felt for the last eight months. “I am just... I am so confused right now. This all sounds so crazy and over- overwhelming, Tommy. And I really wanna punch that John guy, whoever the fuck he is. And I want-” he cleared his throat, eyes red with unshed tears. “I wanna go home, Tommy.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned into Tommy. They met each other halfway, their foreheads pressed together. Buck reached up and cupped Tommy's cheeks, brushing his thumbs against the rough stubble. They closed their eyes and breathed each other in. Buck whispered, “Can we go home?”

John wanted to sit with them and go over everything before they left, but the boiling over rage from the both of them was evident, so he made a plan to speak with them the next day.

After brief hugs and hello's, along with endless apologies to everyone at the 118, Tommy and Buck left.

The ride home was oddly, but comfortably, quiet. Neither were totally sure what to say. Tommy had basically been a prisoner in a safe house for eight months until the FBI found this hitman. Buck had been living in a prison of his own, thinking the love of his life had been burned and buried.

“Home sweet home,” Buck said as they pulled into the driveway. He let go of Tommy's hand long enough for them to get out of the car.

They were interlaced once again as soon as Tommy walked around the Jeep.

Buck needed the touch. Needed to stay connected to Tommy somehow, so he didn't wake up from whatever dream he was in. If this wasn't reality, he wanted to stay wherever it was for the rest of his life.

They walked into the house slowly, Buck a step ahead of Tommy, leading the way.

Once the door was shut behind them, Tommy began looking around.

Everything was... the same. Besides a few of his houseplants being gone, but they never stood a chance in the first place.

Tommy stepped in front of Buck, gave his hand a squeeze before letting go, and continued further into the house.

Buck's body ached at the loss of Tommy's touch, but he let him go. Knew this was overwhelming for him too.

“You kept all my stuff,” Tommy noted, moving into the living room.

“Of course I did.”

“Even though you thought I was-”

“A part of me didn't believe it. I kept telling people that something felt wrong. Everyone said I was in denial; that I'd move on when I was ready.”

“God, this is so fucked up.” Tommy turned to face Buck. The space between them felt as though they might as well be a thousand miles apart. “It's okay if you're mad,” he said. “I understand.”

“I- I am mad,” Buck admitted. He moved closer to Tommy. Everything still felt so surreal. He wasn't even sure if this was actually happening right now. “I don't think I'm mad at you though. I- I'm mad at them.”

“Who?”

There were so many to choose from. “Everyone who took you away from me.”

Tommy nodded. “I'm mad at them too. They wasted eight damn months of my life. Our life.”

Buck cleared any remaining distance between them. He brought his hands to Tommy's waist slowly, dragging his hands up and down his sides, feeling the defined muscles that rested just beneath his shirt.

Tommy sunk into the touch. He watched Buck as he stared at his body. Looked over every inch of him to make sure Tommy wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Tommy brought a hand to Buck's chin, gently tilting his head up until their eyes met. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Buck sucked in a breath. “Please.”

Tommy brought their lips together gently, both of their bodies shaking with the need to be closer. Feel more.

Buck fisted Tommy's shirt in his hands, pushed their bodies as close as they could go with how they were standing.

Tommy brought his hands to the nape of Buck's neck as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met with a moan, teeth clashing together before Buck pulled back just far enough speak against Tommy's lips. “I don't want to be mad right now,” he whispered like a secret.

Tommy kissed him again. “What do you want?” he asked.

Buck slowly raised Tommy's shirt, just enough to get his hands underneath. He scratched his fingernails down Tommy's abs, causing Tommy to suck in a sharp breath. Chills covered his body.

Buck kissed Tommy's lips, then his cheek, this nipped at his jawline until he reached his ear. “I wanna to fuck you,” he answered.

They clumsily stumbled into the bedroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before falling onto the bed. “You've been working out a lot,” Buck noted between kisses, hands roaming over Tommy's body.

Tommy pressed himself against Buck, their cocks rubbing together, eliciting a groan from them both.

“There was quite literally nothing else to do,” Tommy replied.

Their bodies moved together so perfectly. Just like always. Like they had never been apart at all.

Tommy sucked on Buck's bottom lip, listening to the stunted gasps that escaped him with every thrust.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Tommy said breathlessly. He bit at a spot on Buck's neck, Buck's hands tangling in Tommy's hair and tugging firmly.

“Tom- Tommy,” he whimpered out. “You gotta. I wanna- You gotta stop,” he managed to get out.

Tommy whined, but stopped his movements. The sound earned him a laugh from Buck. He caressed Tommy's cheek until he looked at him. “Wanna fuck you, remember? Not gonna last long if- if you keep going.”

Tommy nodded. He was seconds away from coming himself. It was easy to get lost in the feeling with Buck. Easy to lose control.

With one swift movement, Buck flipped them so he was on top. He may not have been working out as much as Tommy over the last few months, but he did have a lot of sessions with a punching bag recently, and right now he felt ready to take on the world.

Buck ran his hand over Tommy's chest, let his fingernails drag over his nipple, Tommy arching into the touch. He felt over every ab, traced Tommy's scar, moved down to his stomach. It was all so torturously slow, but so fucking wonderful.

He kissed his way down Tommy's body, stopping at his cock. He stared up at Tommy with heavy lidded eyes as he spit, letting the drool drip down from his mouth onto the head of Tommy's dick. “The first time I touched myself,” Buck said, finally taking Tommy's cock in his hand, dragging his hand up and down leisurely as Tommy's eyes fluttered shut, “after... you know.”

“Mhm.” Tommy managed to open his eyes again, trying to focus on Buck and his words instead of the warm, wet hand gliding over him.

“I had to stop. I tried to- to touch myself the way you always touched me, but I- I couldn't do it.”

“Oh God, Evan.” Tommy fucked himself into Buck's tight fist. He brought their lips together sloppily. “Wanna touch you like that again.”

Buck nodded. “You will,” he promised. “But not right now. Right now I need to be in you.”

“Please.”

Buck let go of Tommy long enough to reach into the bedside table and grab the lube. He put some on, Tommy spreading his legs as Buck reached down and slowly began inserting his finger.

“Ah,” Tommy gasped. He reached up and pulled Buck down for another kiss as Buck slowly pumped his finger in and out.

“You're so tight,” Buck panted into Tommy's mouth.

“Been a while.” Tommy began to grind down against Buck's finger, moaning loudly when it hit the perfect spot.

“Shit,” Buck whined. “You haven't... You didn't?”

“A finger or two.” Tommy planted his feet on the bed, getting better leverage to work himself up and down on Buck. “A- Another, Evan, please.”

Buck obliged, adding another finger along the first, eliciting a string of curses from Tommy.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking shit! It was never the same,” he added quickly, going back to the conversation. “Didn't- God, didn't feel like this. Evan, more!”

Buck silenced a moan with his mouth as he added a third finger, grinding his cock against Tommy's thigh. He knew he wasn't gonna last long. Knew Tommy wouldn't either. It didn't matter though. They had plenty of time to make up for what was lost.

“I- I'm ready. Just... I need-”

“I know.” Another kiss and Buck slipped his fingers out of Tommy. Tommy grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and tossed it in Buck's direction, getting a laugh out of him.

Soon enough, Buck had Tommy's legs on his shoulders and his cock was slowly, slowly, so fucking slowly, entering Tommy.

They stared into each others eyes, Tommy slack-jawed with tiny, breathy grunts escaping him every time Buck inched closer.

After what felt like an eternity, Buck bottomed out. He stilled, breathing heavily. “I gotta. Just. I need a second.”

“S'okay.” Tommy reached out and grabbed for Buck's hands, which were currently gripping Tommy's thighs. “S'okay,” he repeated.

A few seconds later, Buck began to move.

Slowly at first, letting Tommy get used to the feeling again. Hell, letting him get used to the feeling again.

“Ev- ah- Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I- ah- I. I need-”

“What? What do- do you need?”

“Oh shit!" Tommy yelled as Buck snapped his hips forward. "Fuck me, Evan!”

That was all Buck needed to hear. He pushed himself up slightly, to get a better position, and began moving faster, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder. Each thrust pulled a new sound out of Tommy. Low, guttural groans.

The sound of their skin slapping together, the feeling of the sweat covering their bodies, the heat between them, the desperation over all they thought they'd lost.

It was too much.

“Evan, I- I'm gonna come.” He'd never been able to come untouched before. Always needed a hand on his cock to get there. Not this time though. He came with a sound so loud, Buck was sure the neighbors at the other end of the street could hear.

Tommy's legs dropped off of Buck's shoulders, but he quickly wrapped them around his back to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

“Tommy,” Buck gasped, each movement now with far less rhythm. “Tommy, i- is this real?”

Tommy pulled Buck closer, his fingernails digging into Buck's back. He moaned as Buck drove in deeper. “It's- I'm real,” he managed to breathe out. “I'm here, Evan.”

Buck groaned loudly, mouth pressed close to Tommy's ear, coming deep inside him. After a couple lighter, gentler thrusts, Buck stopped. He practically dropped all his body weight on top of Tommy. Tommy kept his legs wrapped tightly around him. Neither could seem to let the other go just yet.

Buck hid his head into Tommy's neck. “I missed you so much,” he whimpered out, both men trying to catch their breath. Tommy could feel the wetness of Buck's tears on his neck. “God, I- I missed you.”

Tommy brought his hands to Buck's head, carding his fingers through his hair. “I missed you every damn second of every damn day,” he replied.

After they cleaned up, Buck curled back into Tommy, intertwining their bodies at every point he could manage. Tommy wrapped Buck into his arms, and Buck laid his head on Tommy's chest. They laid in silence for a while, allowing themselves to feel and be felt for the first time in so long.

Buck was the first to break the silence, letting the words fall out like a secret admission. “John came to the house the day after you went missing. They... They said your car had been in an accident. That you, um, that it had caught on fire w- with you inside.”

Tommy's body stiffened underneath him. “Baby, if... if I'd known-”

“I know,” Buck assured him. He ran his hand up and down over Tommy's chest until he relaxed again. “I know it wasn't you.”

“I'm gonna ask John if he still has my letters,” Tommy said.

“You really wrote me letters?” Buck asked, stealing a glance up at Tommy.

“Mhm. I'm sure they all thought I was an absolute idiot, especially seeing as it was all a lie, but yeah, every week.”

Buck pressed a kiss to Tommy's pec before lying back down. “I hope they exist somewhere. I'd love to read them.”

“They were really fucking depressing. Turns out I don't handle being without you very well.”

“Oh, you should've seen me.” Buck traced circle patterns along Tommy's chest. “This was the first month I started trying. Trying to get back out and do things with people... I'm glad I don't have to try anymore.”

“That's probably something we should talk about, especially with our jobs.” He snuggled further under the covers, wrapping Buck even tighter in his arms. “Not tonight though.”

“No, not tonight,” Buck agreed.

They still had a lot to talk about. A lot of things that had to be sorted. Questions that needed answers. Issues that would need to be resolved.

But, for tonight, the only thing they needed was each other.

Each other, and the first good night's sleep for them both since the day Tommy disappeared.

That night, once sleep took over, Buck dreamt.

[ohisms]

↪ ᵀᴴᴱ 𝑀𝐼𝐶𝐾 , ꮲꭲ 2 . (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  season  1  of fox's sitcom ,  “ the mick ” adjust phrasing as necessary . )

damn , [ name ] , how many cars can one person crash ?

i can't help it — when i'm behind the wheel , i'm a slave to the power of the machine .

other people worked very hard to buy those cars , and now they're mine .

why you gotta put me in a cage ?

i'm not a rat , okay ?

shut up , you don't know what you're talking about .

i am NOT joking , i don't wanna do this .

guys , we don't snitch . that's it , end of story .

will you listen to yourself ?? "jUsT tElL tHe tRuTh"

[ name ] , you snitch you die !

pretty sure that was already there when i walked up .

how is this good news ?

everyone's gonna call me a traitor , like you .

don't worry about it , it was worth it .

what are you doing tomorrow night ?

just say the words , and it can be yours .

oh , it's like that , huh ? fine .

what was that ? i can't hear you ... you can't breathe ?

you better figure something out , 'cause if you don't — i'll have to go public with this .

that's called extortion , stupid !

those guys are just covering their own asses , they don't even like you .

as easily as i can save you in this world , i can destroy you .

if anybody messes with you , let us know - okay ?

with a dong like that , you'd think he'd be happier .

do i look like i'm playing , [ last name ] ?

oh , your breath reeks of booze .

i hope you have a plan .

i was up all night watching prep school movies in preparation .

there are some real evil illuminati-type vibes in here , right ?

there was a time i could see , and i have seen .

oh , i'm just getting warmed up .

we are but food for worms , gentlemen .

whose burrito did i just step in ?

get out of here , the tv's mine .

what did you do to my shirt ??

how would you feel if i ran around stealing your clothes ?

we had to kill him cause he wasn't a team player .

no more special treatment for you .

i grew up in squalor , i am perfectly comfortable in it .

[ name ] , don't you dare !

didn't know you were gonna be so weird about it .

if you decide that you don't want me around , just tell me and i will go .

you're not the only game in town , buddy , okay ?

you don't know who i hang out with .

jealousy is the reason people hate us .

you don't have to worry about labels , just like who you like .

i hope this is some sort of emergency .

you kept me waiting , so i'm gonna get right to it .

don't make this your thing , this is [ name's ] thing .

suing is how rich white people solve their problems .

i wanted to sing and show you there's nothing to be afraid of .

i'm so nervous for you ... i want to throw up and run away .

you could have me escorted out , but you have no security .

ooh , dark scary room ! you know what they call that in prison ? they call that a blind spot . great place to catch a shiv .

what kind of operation are you running here ?

you didn't do anything wrong . i was the problem , not you .

where i'm from , the guest gets the good seat .

i drink , smoke , lie , steal ... i'm drunk right now .

i will ruin him . please don't let me do that .

i'm not the one doing whatever you guys are doing ... what are you doing ?

i'm not judging , at least he's a hot mess .

it's the wolf's job to eat the sheep , so y'know ... this was bound to happen .

i will RUIN you when we get home .

i'll give it back to you in a minute , you're gonna get it back .

the suit you destroyed cost a grand !

come on , [ name ] . i'll help you get settled .

he can't know it was my idea .

she made her mean bed and she can sleep in those scratchy sheets .

woah , tough day at the office ?

what the hell did you just say to me ?

you are right ... no matter what you say about anything .

we do this all the time , but usually there's some art to it .

this is not nearly as fun as i thought it was gonna be .

you're letting a bunch of nerds pick on you with their computers ?

why don't you just systematically destroy her ?

i can see where this is headed , so i'm just gonna hit the road .

she ripped me open , stuffed me full of devastation and then sewed me back up again .

leave me alone , this is all your fault .

why are they yelling ? are they angry cause they're bad musicians ?

i will never understand your generation .

let me have it . how bad is it ?

do you have any idea what i saw in there ?

you should come and check out what's going on outside , cause i think you'll be pleasantly surprised .

i just want us to be friends again .

it would be such a silly waste of time for someone like me to be mad at someone as insignificant as you .

the truth is , i pity you .

when the universe gives you a sign , it's not up to you to ignore it .

[ name ] gave it to me . it means i'm in charge .

i'm not comfortable with the whole arrangement . where's [ name ] ?

this is outrageous ! i'm getting passed over again ?

i don't have a problem , i'm just blowing off some steam .

you wanna get in on this ?

you deserve to take a time out as much as anybody else .

sorry , i didn't realize you were the fun police .

having money has reaaally changed you .

i've lost control ?! oh no , you dumb , dumb idiot . YOU'VE lost control .

that's a gross overreaction .

i will show myself the door in a ... graceful and classy manner .

thanks for sticking around .

look , i realize i did some questionable things in there .

i just felt like the universe was giving me a sign .

i'm the only one worthy of its power !

keep it in your pants and follow my lead .

it's no offense , i just don't know you very well .

let's go over this one more time , just so we're clear .

we've already been over the terms .

what's in it for you ?

i like the element of surprise .

wasn't expecting that . are you okay ?

i saw a burglar , i didn't know what to do ... so i SMOKED his ass !

you SHOT me ! what the hell's the matter with you ?

that gunpowder's like a hundred years old , it probably just broke the skin .

what about the police ? they're expecting a gunshot victim .

guys , we've gotta move this along , okay ?

you got it , i'll get you a pillow .

you're lucky no one was killed .

here's the thing about the bordeaux ... i drank it .

i'm so sorry that you had to keep our mansion warm .

how do you think the police found them ?

if you're done criticizing me , i think i'll head on up to bed .

you want me to do the jobs no one else wants ?

can we pick this up tomorrow ? i was shot , so ... i'm very tired .

it has nothing to do with that . okay ? now please leave .

i wanted to thank you for having my back earlier .

that had nothing to do with you . i was just trying to hurt them .

it's chloroform . i found a recipe online .

[ name ] , don't come at me with that .

i was gonna do whatever it takes . i'm not a quitter.

i wanna tell you , i really do . but first there's something i need .

oh my god , you're bailing again .

innocent people don't sneak in and out of their own home .

'cause i don't like you , that's why .

i'd rather get mowed down in a hellfire of bullets than listen to you screech .

you don't have to lie . i heard you guys .

how was i supposed to know you were gonna hug me ? i didn't even know you knew how to hug .

[jq37]

Who Is Allison Moore?: A Disney's Wish Mystery

OK, this is a little off the rails and random but this has been driving me crazy since I looked into it last night.

So, Disney's 100th Anniversary movie Wish is coming out soon and people have had a lot of hot takes about it so I wanted to do some digging. As part of that, I looked at the writers and two people have a "Screenplay by" credit: Jennifer Lee and Allison Moore.

Jennifer Lee, of course, wrote Frozen--their biggest princess hit in the modern era so that makes total sense to me. If you're coming out with a new princess movie for the big centennial of course you'd tap her. But I'd never heard of Allison, and when you look at her name on Wikipedia:

No blue link. So I headed to IMDB to check out her credits, figuring maybe she was some hot new talent recently promoted from within who did storyboards on some recent projects like Moana or something. But when I went to her IMDB page, this is what I found (after a brief mix-up with a Dexter's Lab actress):

Her Producer credits come up first and...huh. That's a lot of adult live action TV projects. Well, maybe her Writing credits are where this starts to make sense:

What? That can't be right, can it? The only vaguely Disney-esque thing on that credit list is Beauty and the Beast and, to be clear, that is a CW reboot of a 1987 procedural with the logline, "A beautiful detective falls in love with an ex-soldier who goes into hiding from the secret government organization that turned him into a mechanically charged beast." And she wrote two episodes on it.

And look at Disney's official page about Wish!

Everyone else on this page has credits that make sense--Frozen, Frozen 2, Raya, Encanto. And the two credits they list for Allison?

Night Sky and Manhunt.

Night Sky, an Amazon Prime show that she wrote one episode for and was cancelled after one season. And Manhunt--and show about hunting the UNABOMBER--that ran for two seasons and that she wrote two episodes for. Those are her two credits that they put up there next to Frozen and Encanto.

I have been scouring the internet trying to figure out who this woman is and how she got this job and I have come up *empty*. This is the big 100th anniversary movie! Why would they have one of the two screenplay writers be someone who seemingly has never done something like this before??? Like, I understand that not having done something before doesn't mean you can't do a good job, but it usually means you don't get the keys to the biggest most anticipated projects in the company's history!

They presumably could have gotten anyone they wanted for this and they picked this person and I have zero clue why and it's driving me crazy. If anyone has ANY information that could illuminate this at ALL--an interview, a social media post, gossip from your cousin who's a gofer at Disney--please let me know because I feel like I'm going full Pepe Silvia over this.

12/26 Edit: A SMALL UPDATE IS HERE!

[bethelighthalazia]

Terrifying - Part 2

Summary:  Yunho feels horrible for scaring and hurting you, so he apologizes and promises to do everything to show you how important you are to him and how much he loves you.

Genre:  angst, fluff

Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader

Word Count:  1753

Warnings: mentions of wounds/scratches, mentions of hurting, sad Yuyu, mentions of crying, insecure reader

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

[note: thank you, @ja3hwa for helping me with finding a good ending paragraph <3]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

At the dorms, the others were around you the moment Mingi stepped through the main entrance. San took you out of Mingi´s arms, who then left again to check on Yunho while you were placed on the big sofa. Wooyoung had already grabbed blankets to cuddle up in the living room with you to watch any movie you want. It seems that Yunho had called the others, the second you and Mingi had left the apartment, to tell them what happened. 

“Y/n, could I check on your wounds please?” Seonghwa asked with a gentle voice, a first aid kit in his hand while he sat down on the sofa next to you. You nodded, wiping your face with one hand while holding your other arm out towards him. “Oh, you´re wearing the bracelet we got you!” A smile on Seonghwa´s face, he gently dabbed some disinfectant ointment on the scratches, causing you to wince ever so slightly every time. “Do- do you think he's mad at me now? I- I think I hurt his feelings…” You sniffled quietly, some new tears appearing in your eyes, but before Seonghwa could answer, you´re pulled into a tight hug by Wooyoung who shakes his head no. 

“He's more worried about you being mad at him, y/n.” Jongho said, carrying a bowl with your favorite snacks over to you. “Don´t worry, he loves you, that I am absolutely sure of.” 

When he put down the bowl, the maknae gave you a soft squeeze to the shoulder before then leaving the room, he didn't want you to possibly get overwhelmed with too many people around for now. Hongjoong also came over to the sofa and placed a kiss on top of your head, something he had done almost ever since you met the boys, because he sees you as his sister, and then whispered something to Seonghwa before leaving to go check on Yunho as well, knowing you're in the best hands.

Yeosang just stayed quiet, sitting on the other sofa and turning on the TV for you, knowing well which ones are your favorites to watch. Your head was now resting on Wooyoung´s shoulder, you felt your eyes getting heavy, but you didn't want to fall asleep yet, too scared that nightmares could haunt your dreams. “Woo? Why- why do you all seem so calm?” You asked after a few moments, frowning a bit when you realized that they are too calm for what happened. When Wooyoung exchanges looks with San, Seonghwa and Yeosang, you swallow hard. Is there something they don't want to tell you? A secret that they hide from you?

“Y/n, I think-” “That's something Yunho should tell you himself, y/nnie.” Mingi, who just entered the dorms again, cut off Seonghwa who was trying to answer you, but then the others just nod at Mingi´s words. When you heard his voice, your head perked up, accidentally hitting Wooyoung's chin slightly, your eyes wide. “Mingi, how-” “He is okay, Hongjoong hyung is with him now to help clean up your apartment. He sent me here to see how you feel and if you need anything.” Mingi hummed, coming over to sit on the floor right in front of the sofa. 

“I'm…okay?” With a raised eyebrow, Mingi looked at you, he could always tell if you´re telling the truth or not and often, he even knows better how you feel than you do yourself. With a little sigh, you shrugged, not even sure how exactly you feel. But you weren't in pain anymore, that is something you can say for sure.

“Really Mingi…I am not in pain or anything, I just-” “You´re confused, right?” Nodding, you fully focused on your best friend, Wooyoung laid an arm around you again to calm you down a bit. No one spoke for a while, just letting you relax and hopefully doze off a bit. It indeed almost worked, your eyes heavy while your head rested against Wooyoung´s shoulder and Mingi caressed your hands in a soothing manner, you almost fell asleep.

That is, until a jingle of keys, quiet voices and the sound of a door unlocking is heard. your head jerked up, again hitting Wooyoung´s chin, when you heard your boyfriend´s voice answering to Hongjoong. Mingi got to his feet almost instantly, staring at the entryway, where soon Hongjoong and Yunho appeared. “Hyung, are you-” “Everyone out, except for y/n, Mingi and Yunho.” Hongjoong said and, to everyone's surprise, the room actually cleared. The captain just patted Yunho ́s back gently before leaving as well, but you knew that he’d be just one room further, so he could intervene if needed.

While Mingi just stared at them, Yunho had only eyes for you, an expression like a beaten puppy on his face. You know that he's feeling horrible, knowing that Yunho is not the type of person to hurt others purposefully. Yet, your body flinched slightly when he took a step closer to the sofa, your movement causing him to freeze on the spot. Mingi sat down on the armchair nearby, just in case, but he didn't intervene at all. 

“Y/n, love I-” Yunho started, but then got quiet, not sure what he could say to undo his actions. “I know that nothing I say would make you forget that I hurt you…and I-” He took a deep breath, just standing in the middle of the room, not coming closer to you for now. “I would understand if you'd hate me and never want to see me anymore.” His voice got quieter with every word he spoke, you could see how hard it is to talk while knowing that you probably are scared of him now. “But please…could I try to explain? I won't try to make any excuses, because I know my behavior was absolutely unacceptable and no excuse or apology could undo it.”

With a short glance over to Mingi who gave a reassuring nod, you then nod as well, patting the free space on the sofa next to you. “O- okay…I have a question though…are you still mad at me?” You asked quietly, to which Yunho quickly took a few steps over to you to take your hand, just to then freeze when you flinch. “S- sorry, I didn't mean to scare you again-” He whispered, slowly kneeling down in front of you, taking your hand in his. “But please, y/nnie, my love, my heart, I could never be mad at you. I wasn't even upset with you earlier, but with myself and all the stress I had the last weeks…I tend to bottle it all up and sometimes it just bursts out of me. Usually I would come here and tell Mingi, then we would go to the gym or something, but this time, I didn't…and let it out on you.”

Yunho's voice broke, the thought of hurting you already let him get teary and his heart dropped. “B- before I asked you to be my girlfriend, I swore to myself to never have such an outburst near you…and now I even scarred you because of it-” Pulling his hands away, he sat on the back of his feet, still kneeling in front of you, his head dropped against his chest. He truly looked like a sad puppy and you would love to pull him into a soothing embrace, yet you cannot bring yourself to do so. Even though you knew that he meant every word, and that he would never purposefully hurt you, you cannot shake off the fear and the broken trust between the two of you.

“Yunho-” You whispered, his frame getting smaller as he curled into himself , almost slumping in front of you when you didn't use your usual nickname for him. This was what Yunho always had feared; to hurt you and to push you away from him. “I- I just…I still love you, but…but I also am scared. I trusted you with my life…but now? I don't- I don't know if I can trust you. So-” With another deep breath, you tried to steady your voice, tears again stinging in your eyes. “So please…give me time, okay? I love you…and I still want to be with you, but- but a trust that's broken like this…I don't know how long it might take to rebuild, but…but you will have to show me that I can trust you again…”

Yunho nodded silently, his mind racing. You still wanted to be with him, even though you knew that he would be capable of hurting you? His heart beat faster, with a quick movement, he wiped away his tears before looking up, he had no right to cry when he was the one who had hurt you. “I will do anything, jagiya. Everything to show you that you mean more to me than anything else.” He then said after a few moments of silence, his voice quiet but hopeful. “You are my everything, y/nnie, and I am so…so thankful that you give me this chance.”

You already knew that your heart forgave him the moment he called Mingi to get you out of the danger he might have gotten for you back then, proving already that he never wanted to hurt you in the first place. But, forgiving does not mean to immediately trust him again, both of you knew this. And both of you were ready to be patient. After a short glance around to reassure yourself that Mingi is still in the room with you two, you slowly moved, getting down from the sofa to hug Yunho, who's still kneeling in front of you. The hug felt awkward and you didn't keep this closeness for long, but when you whispered an “I love you, Yuyu” before leaning back, you could feel his heartbeat accelerate and a hopeful expression appeared on Yunho's face. 

“I love you, y/nnie. Thank you for letting me prove myself to you, even if I don't deserve your kindness after I hurt you like this…” You sat there in silence for a moment letting him say sorry over and over again, glancing at Mingi every now and then to make sure everything was okay. You knew this situation wasn't going to go away. And you knew he would stop at nothing to show you that you can trust him again. 

It was going to be a long road and Yunho was willing to travel down it. For you.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @jayshoneybee, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie,

@en-happiness, @kibs-and-bits

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🟢🟢🟢

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

🟢I noticed high number of people that like the idea of saving yourself for marriage have Scorpio over the 8th house, but also often Capricorn Vesta, Vesta at 22 degree or Vesta in the 10th house.

🟢People with Pisces Vesta might have rather low libido. They really enjoy things that are more metaphysical and they are often very detached from their own body, not very in tune with it. They might do just well by watching films, TV series and indulging into their favourite movie snack. They are really fine with being on their own.

🟢Aquarius Ceres people had a mother that emphasized that their identity, personality and body are very unique. These are the people that will always tell you you're one of a kind, special and unique. This placement is very much "No one is you and that is your superpower" quote!

🟢Additionally, on Ceres note, your Ceres sign serves like the 2nd Moon sign. Ceres also shows how you perceived your mother's nurturing. So you could have a Virgo Moon, but Aquarius Ceres. And you might actually more relate to Aquarius Ceres when it comes to your relationship with your mother. Similarly, you can have Aries Moon, but your Ceres is in Pisces. But often times Moon and Ceres are compatible and connected.

🟢Scorpio Ceres doesn't want to think about money, although throughout their lifetime their life revolves A LOT around money. Either in form of debt, financial issues, help others with their money etc. Money for them is a veryy emotional topic. When they receive money they might actually tear up a little. When they give or lend money it's often an investment for them and they might have regrets connected with it or hold resentment later on for giving someone their money. Sometimes they make purchases that they not only regret, but might feel a bit ashamed that they even made this purchase in the first place. Also, this is very much the person to mix sex with money. Or they spend money on the person they are physically intimate with (sexually involved).

🟢Having Venus in someone's 10th house in a romantic Synastry is such an interesting overlay I notice. Often times one person really supports other's career and long-term goals to the point they help the other person set up a business. But I noticed that often that also become a weakness later in the partnership. So they continue the successful business, but the partnership dissolves.

🟢Ruler of the 7th house in the 5th house often has a crush on blond/light-haired people or those that have golden highlights.

🟢I'm not saying always, but most often in particular people who have Gemini over the 7th house often assume or very early on when meeting someone assume they the person is interested in them romantically. With Sagittarius over the 1st house (which points to an exaggerated sense of self and ego) they persistently think someone likes them despite clear evidence to the contrary. And Gemini Descendants even more so, they sometimes tend to believe they can "convince" someone if they put enough effort or try hard enough, even when the person verbally expressed that they are not interested in them. Even this Sagittarius Gemini axis can sometimes deal with delusion much like Pisces Virgo axis.

🟢Libra or Taurus over the 10th house: people at your workplace, random co-workers, even your boss will be very interested in your relationship status. Those around you will often speculate whether you have a partner or ask you if you are single. Also, if you have one of these two signs, be mindful with who you are connecting yourself with, because people around you might often make assumptions or jump to fast conclusions to who you are dating, even if the two of you are just friends! They could see you talking with someone and they might already assume you two have something going on.

🟢People with Scorpio Jupiter often go for Capricorn Sun as their spouse or committed partner. If you have Scorpio Jupiter in your Natal chart you are likely to attract a rather controlling partner.

🟢People with Pisces and Aries over the 4th house felt like they had to raise themselves. They are also really late bloomers. They might start raising themselves and working on themselves in late 20s, 30s.

🟢When you have Scorpio over the 7th house or Pluto in the 7th house in your Solar Return chart you will feel like don't receive help from anyone and it will be the year of many rejections, either in your love life, career or you will feel rejected by your loved ones.

🟢Composite Leo Mars in the 7th house make the two of you much more indecisive when together than independently/when you are apart. You often swing from "You choose, I don't mind anything" to "I don't know". When you are together you seem to make a decision much slower and it's harder to even pick to which restaurant you want to go eat. With the sign of Leo, you might have power struggles over making your choice as the final mutual decision. You will both want things to go your own way, not how the other person wants.

🟢Ruler of the 7th house in the 5th house are the biggest flirts that tend to be non-committal, because they value their independence a little too much, but also because they have the enough charming, charismatic confidence that they can get anyone.

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hey this is pretty out there but I'm a virgin who's trying to write sex scenes and my biggest concern is I won't be able to convey the emotions and feelings right... any tips?

It would be super helpful 💖

Writing a Sex Scene Without Experience

The thing about sex is it's not just one thing that's experienced one way. No one can say "write it like this" and you're good to go. The whole act--the build up, the actions, the feelings, the emotions--all depends on the specific people involved, who they are, what they know, how they relate to one another, exactly what happens, past experience, even personality and mood. And to top it off, all of those things matter for the person writing it, too.

This is why experience is really helpful if you're trying to write a sex scene, because you can take that experience and knowledge and put them through the filter of your characters' personality, mood, experience, etc. And obviously, you can't really do that without experience because you have no baseline to filter through your characters' own point-of-view.

So... that said, there are two alternatives you can fall back on if you need to write a sex scene without experience:

#1 - Get Fictional Experience - Believe it or not, fictional experience does make a difference, and by "fictional experience" I mean watching TV shows and movies with sex scenes, reading books and stories with sex scenes, and reading informational articles about sex scenes. You don't even need to read or watch anything explicit... there are various "spice" levels to all of it. How explicit you get into things is entirely up to you, so you can match the level of fictional sex scenes you experience to the level of what you want to write. Just be sure to pay close attention to build-up (including what the relationship and interaction are like beforehand), body language, facial expressions, actions, etc. (And when reading these scenes, pay special attention to word choice, pacing, and sensory detail.) Also: although I'm not going to write such a guide, there actually are writing guides out there (including whole books) that go into detail about how to write these types of scenes. You'll still want to filter the information through your own characters' POVs, however.

#2 - Fade to Black - Some writers without sexual experience choose not to write sex scenes at all, instead using some form of a "fade to black." I talk about different ways to do that in my post Non-Explicit Sex Scene. There's still plenty of opportunity for exploring the deep romantic feelings that lead up to and follow intercourse, but you don't have to worry about fitting those feelings into the actual sex act. I have a lot of posts in my Relationships: Romance master list of post that can help you with all of that.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

[anyroads]

If Netflix (or Hulu etc.) wants to make more money then frankly, showing ads and raising rates to avoid them is a rookie move. Make accounts manageable. As in literally, let users manage their account. Let me be able to tailor my settings to something like, say, "don't recommend movies with Renée Zellwegger" and then also let me able to add exemptions like Empire Records. Not only will this vastly improve the user experience, it'll cement user loyalty more because people will feel a sense of ownership over their entertainment. While they're at it, also add a feature where I can make a playlist and watch things in a given order (like if I want to put on indvidual episodes of various tv shows to fall asleep to), and let me choose the length of time before Netflix asks me if I'm still watching. Tbh, this would end up getting more subscriptions because if I'm using my friend's/parent's/whoever's password to log into an account and there's a max of what, 6 profiles? Then if there are more users than profiles, inevitably some of those users - the ones who can afford it - will shell out the money for their own account because they won't want to be stuck with the tailored settings of half a dozen other people.

This message brought to you by my immense frustration that Netflix keeps on insisting that I want to watch movies with Renee Zellwegger no matter how many thumbs downs I give every fucking Bridget Jones movie.

[dyns33]

Only Wastelands part 3

The people have spoken ! Viva the Ghoul ! Feo fuerte y formal. And since I'm all three of that, I'll give you part 3 and not a new story.

Just, be patient, it will be a longer series than even I expected. I think 5 or 6 parts.

Tag : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25 @darkangel4121 @avidreadee123 @kaitttttttt @nullx1ety

It was now official, Y/N was the unluckiest person in all of the wastelands.

The only thing she had always wanted since she came out of her hole was to survive, for as long as possible, having to do as little harm as possible, and staying all alone, far from creatures, people, Cooper and Vault Tech.

Henry MacLean's smile clearly indicated his pre-atomization work. Smooth talking, manipulating, complimenting and lying to get what he wanted.

No doubt he was considered gifted at the time, but Lucy's father didn't seem to have fully understood that the rules had changed and those who remained had adapted.

He needed a guide and a bodyguard to get to a high-security shelter. Like his daughter, he had a keen eye, he had spotted her as she was about to leave New Vegas, and her pitboy had left him thinking that they were part of the same side.

Y/N would have told him that she only had one side, hers, but she was smart enough to keep a neutral face while he spoke to her. Were all the inhabitants of the Vault so damn talkative ?

"If you come with me, if you help me, I can guarantee you a special place in a wonderful vault. You will be safe, fed, with water, clothes, a bed. It's a good deal, right ?”

“And what makes you think they’ll welcome you with open arms ?”

The question seemed to confuse him for a moment, then he put on his fake smile again, pretending that everything would be fine and that his friends wouldn't let him down.

Either he was totally stupid or he was deluding himself. Hope took a long time to die here.

In any case, even if the deal was tempting, everything was against accepting it. Because she couldn't trust Henry and Vault, because she didn't want to go back underground, because Cooper was looking for this guy and her primery goal was to never see the Ghoul again.

The problem was the armor. Now that he had spotted her and considered her to be his best means of reaching his destination, MacLean was not going to let her go so easily.

He could shoot her if she tried to flee, and he would be hard to kill with his protection. Coop had told her about a malfunction, but Y/N wasn't sure where it was.

To continue to survive, it was therefore wiser to follow MacLean, returning his smile, waiting for the ideal moment to disappear. But the man was not as stupid as he seemed, and he refused to sleep, never leaving her side.

Still less clever than Lucy, he did not connect their pitboys.

When they arrived at his destination, Y/N was sure that this was the end. Vault Tech was made up of assholes, so they were going to kill their dear employee, or they were going to leave him out, and most certainly, they were going to kill her.

But no. In their hypocritical pretense of saviors of humanity, the doors were opened and they were received as nobles.

It would be a lie to say that Y/N didn't appreciate the hot shower she was able to take in her private room. The first in years. She savored the food, she resisted jumping on the bed like a child, and she cried a bit while watching TV, showing scenes of the life before, lost forever.

And after a presentation on community life in the shelters, a movie. An old Western film. With the main star, Cooper Howard.

Y/N had never seen his movies. She had seen the posters, she had heard of the actor, he appeared in Vault ads until his divorce and the accusations of communism.

More serious than in the picture he had given her, quite ridiculous with his fringed suit, he gave a moral lesson to his enemy, saying that killing was wrong. Ah, Coop would die laughing if he heard that now.

This thought made her a little sad. Y/N was mad at him, and at the same time she put herself in his boots.

He had been betrayed by his ex-wife, he had been separated from his daughter, he had transformed into a sort of zombie, still conscious thanks to medication but in danger of losing his mind at any moment, wandering for eternity in the wastelands, where he could be killed, insulted, or see those he took the risk of loving die in front of him.

Maybe he had loved her at one time. She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that this man on the screen hadn't disappeared, he was just hurt, bruised, and wanting to protect himself. So it was normal that he didn't want to keep a burden like her any longer.

She had to keep the good memories.

His laugh, the time they danced together in a ruined dinner, his arm around her as she slept on his shoulder.

When he called her a fucking pet, a good ribbance, no one he cared about.

It was a bit out of boredom, and mostly thinking about her next move, that Y/N hacked into the vault's system, to look at their little secrets and get useful information, like where the food was stored and how to get out without being spotted.

She didn't expect to see the name Howard. Barbara and Janey Howard.

Obviously she had fallen into the main, original, most important Vault, which brought together people deemed to be priorities such as the president of the country, the president of Vault Tech, their advisors and their families.

He wasn't as important, and that's why he'd been placed elsewhere, but Henry had been loyal, and he could tell them about the state of the outside world, so they'd let him in. Y/N’s fate was still to be determined.

Leaving now, stealing supplies and waiting for nightfall would have been easy for her. The best thing to do.

But Y/N had often imagined this little girl, adored by her father. Cooper didn't talk about her often, his voice shaking whenever he mentioned Janey. His little Janey.

No doubt he would be here soon, he could get her back himself. But what if he couldn't do it ? What if he was killed trying ? What if the little girl was killed because, thinking she wasn't there, he blew everything up ?

It was not stated whether Barbara was still alive. Y/N didn’t really care. This woman could use her status as a mother all she wanted to justify her actions, what she had done was abominable.

At her request, Janey had been put to sleep, and she was not to be awakened until the outside was perfectly safe and sound, and then the world would be hers.

It was impossible to tell whether that was a good thing or not, whether it wouldn't have been better if she had simply grown up in the Vault after the explosion, or if she hadn't survived to never see all this.

But it was not the time for useless questions like this. Not anymore. Using all her knowledge and discretion, Y/N sneaked up to the cryonyzation chambers.

One thing was certain, Janey was her father's daughter. She had his look, stubborn and clever like him, immediately wary of this stranger who asked her to follow her. Her parents had often told her not to follow people she didn't know.

"Hold on." Y/N said kindly as she took out the photo Cooper had given her. "Look. Your dad gave her to me. He told me a lot about you. His favorite cowgirl. He's looking for you everywhere."

That wasn't entirely true. He had looked for her everywhere. Despair had slowed his motivation a bit after a hundred years.

"Daddy ? You know where my daddy is ?"

"Yes. I'll take you to see him, all right ?"

Her smile. Even the sun was not as radiant as the smile of this little girl, who jumped into her arms, happy to be able to find her daddy.

Y/N would later think about how she didn't want to find the father, and that Janey would be in for a bit of a shock if they ended up meeting him.

After all, Cooper had changed, physically and mentally. It wasn't going to be so easy to explain to her that he had had health problems, but that it was really him, without a nose, with charred skin, yellow teeth, and blood on his hands.

Children were rare in the wastelands. It wasn't a place for them, people weren't crazy enough to procreate. Some could no longer do so, because of the radiation. And the little ones often left very early, for various reasons, both sad and horrible.

She no longer really remembered how to behave around a child, nor how a child behave. For the moment, the little girl was calm, holding her hand as she followed her out of the shelter.

But she might be scared outside. Not obeying, walking too slowly, shouting. Oh, she shouldn't scream, that would attract all the raiders and deathclaws in the area. And if something happened to her, then after three years, the Ghoul would finally come for Y/N.

Just, not to save her.

"It's very dangerous out there. Okay, Janey ?" she explained, kneeling down in front of the little girl to look her in the eyes. "You're going to have to be brave, and do everything I say. Can you do that ?"

"Yes."

"You promise me ? It really wouldn't be easy."

“We cowpokes take it as it comes.” Janey said proudly, her smile as adorable as ever, but her expression showing her seriousness. She understood well.

"Alright. So, don't make a sound. You stay calm, you stay close to me unless I tell you to hide, and you wait for me to come get you."

“And we’re going to see my daddy ?”

"… Yes. We're going to see your dad. We just have to… He loves you a lot, he's been a little sick."

“I’ll give him a kiss so he can heal.”

"We'll see about that. I have Radaway. I'm going to open the door, and I'm going to carry you, because there's a chance the turrets will shoot at us. Don't scream, hold on tight and trust me."

Janey continued to smile, giving a thumbs up. She may not have understood everything after all, but that was normal at her age.

Her little hands would squeeze tighter when they were outside, the heat and putrid air beating down on them, but she didn't make a sound, her head in her neck, while Y/N ran as fast as possible away from here, taking cover, dodging gunfire and ignoring alarms.

In the desert, you couldn't stop until you were sure you were alone, hidden by the night. Then they could sit down, drink a bit, and look at the direction they had to take.

And looking at the map of her pitboy, where Lucy MacLean's exact location was flashing happily, Y/N sighed, adjusting Janey against her so she was sleeping in a comfortable position, knowing full well where she needed to go.

It was time to face her demons.

[onlycosmere]

Questioner: Do you have plans to self-produce your books into movies or TV shows? If Taylor Swift can do it, you can.

Questioner: Oh right, yeah, Taylor Swift. Let's point out, there's a little bit of a difference between a 45 million dollar Kickstarter and a 1.6 billion dollar tour. So, we've talked about this, and I've come to the conclusion that for right now I don't want to try it. There are a couple of reasons for this.

Reason number one is that I like my Kickstarters to have a ton of value in them, right? I always tell my team, I'm like, we have to be giving a lot of value to people on the stuff that they do with our crowdfunding or our Kickstarters. And that means that, of that 45 million dollars, we don't make a lot of that. We're putting most of that into the product, and into the shipping, and into the team, and into the company. And so, if we were to do a crowdfunded movie, we need like a 200 million dollar budget, 150 at the lowest, to do a film. And if I'm going to do that, I would want to be giving people a ton of value which means we'd probably have to raise 450 million, which is just a ridiculous amount to do on a crowdfunding, right? So that's number one.

Number two is, a lot of times, these sort of outsider projects don't work as well in Hollywood as you would hope they would. Taylor Swift was able to do a thing and put it directly in the theaters and whatnot, but what we want is a partner over a long period of time. I want someone like Universal, or Disney, or Warner Brothers, who has a long established reputation to buy in on the cosmere, and make things with me for twenty years, right? I don't want to just do one off, I want to build something over time and I feel like I need a really good partner in the industry to do that.

And you know, reason number three is, a fool and their money is soon parted. I've known too many people who think, yeah I can make a movie. And let's just say that there's a reason why The Room isn't that great, and it's because being good in one area doesn't mean you're good in another. I am really good at narrative. I'm getting good at screenplays, right? I'm getting to the point where I feel confident I could do the screenplays myself. But I can't direct, I can't cinematographize, I don't even know how to make that a verb, right? I can't do casting, I can't do all of these things that experts in their field, and yes, I could start hiring them, but I feel like, never having run a movie before, it would just be a disaster. So you would donate all this money, I would waste it all, because I wouldn't know what I'm doing, and this is how Kickstarters go bad real fast, right? I've only done these things when I know I can deliver, and I do not know I can deliver this for you.

So, for the mean time, I'm going to keep trying to use the standard mechanisms. I feel like, you know like, this year we got frighteningly close. Well, frightening is the wrong term. The frightening part is it didn't work out. But we got really, really close. I saw people on stage, in mistcloaks, acting and reading my lines, okay? Yeah. And then it all fell apart, and it's all dead, right? We got really close, but we're getting closer and closer. And Hollywood is really interested in the Cosmere. They recognize the value of my stories. They've been, for years, saying, we know this is going to come, break out, and it's going to be big someday. But it's all about figuring out how to make it work, and beyond that, Hollywood is kind of on fire right now. And so we're waiting for it to, for someone to put it out. So, regardless, the answer is, I've considered it, and I've discarded it for those reasons, but it's still possibly on the table. It is something that, you know, the awareness of the possibility is in the back of my mind, okay?

[bunni-v1]

Would you do A, C, I, J, O, Q, R & X for Jamil and Idia? Ik it's a lot but,, I love my boys;;

🍓A lot is fine! I'm pretty sure I answered some of these for Idia already, so I'll have to find those posts and link them!

Jamil

A - Affection: Jamil isn't exactly Mr. Affection. It's not like he'll NEVER be affectionate with you, he just rarely thinks to be affectionate. His parents aren't cuddly, and he rarely got any affection from anyone in his life, so, of course, he himself isn't super affectionate. However, once he gets a taste? He's hooked like it's heroin or smth. He cannot get enough of the feeling of being adored by someone.

C - Cuddles: Like I said, once he gets a taste he can't stop. Cuddles may just be his favorite type of affection. He won't ever cuddle up to you in front of others for the sake of both your reputations, but when you're alone he's always game. Any kind of cuddles too. Watching a movie, playing games, doing homework, taking a nap? He's down.

I - I love you: It takes Jamil a while to say that he loves you. He doesn't want to commit to loving someone in case you want to back out when you get a taste of the life he lives. He waits until he's sure you won't leave him behind at a moment's notice to say I love you. When he does say it, it's so soft and genuine and vulnerable it almost breaks your heart.

J - Jealous: Jamil is... an odd case? It's not like he doesn't get jealous at all, it's just only with specific people. Randoms at the college, whatever, they can do what they want they aren't worth your time. People like Leona Kalim or Malleus? He's gonna wanna raise hell. He knows that he can't provide a cushy lifestyle, so he feels threatened by the people who CAN give you that.

O - Open: Jamil is not an open person. He is so good at lying sometimes he can fool himself. Still, he does try to open up to you. He makes an effort to be vulnerable and himself, it's just hard and it comes slowly. Little by little he peels back his layers for you, and he only gets more and more comfortable opening up the longer you're together.

Q - Quizzes: Jamil knows everything about you. From your favorite color to that obscure ass tv show only you have heard of but won't stop talking about. He knows your tells of happiness and of discomfort. He knows how to calm you down when you're angry, and he knows how to cheer you up when you're sad. He prides himself on his ability to read others, and you are no exception.

R - Remember: Jamil loves the day that you both actually got together. You and he were having another "tutoring" session where you both laughed and joked around instead of studying. You'd been talking for weeks and toeing the line between love and friendship. You were the one who took the big step, asking him what you were to him, and he answered "Someone I'd like to spend a long time with."

X - Xtra: Jamil is really amazing at doing his own hair. He can put it in a million different fancy ass styles, and sit there patiently for hours as he winds intricate braids into it. When it comes to other people's hair though? He sucks. He cannot for the life of him apply the skills for his hair on other people. The first time he tried with Najma was the last time he was allowed to touch her head. He could learn if he really needed to, it's just not as simple with another person's head.

Idia

A - Affection: Answered here

C - Cuddles: Idia LOVES cuddles, but you didn't hear that from him. He's pretty touch-adverse for a long while into your relationship, but eventually, he starts warming up to physical affection. Once he does, he really can't stop himself. He loves the feeling of you pressed up close to him, and how safe you are with him wrapped around you. (and vice-versa).

I - I love you: Idia won't say it first. There's just no way you get it out of him. He's too nervous he's gonna overstep a boundary, so even if he really wants to, his pretty little lips are sealed. When you do say it though, he is so relieved. Seriously, he was starting to worry he was the only one who felt that way.

J - Jealous: Answered here

O - Open: Answered here

Q - Quizzes: Answered here

R - Remember: Idia's favorite memory isn't anything special, at least in his mind. The day he realized that he loved you, is probably his favorite day ever. You were sitting on his lap trying to beat this boss for the millionth time, and you were getting really pissed. Idia said he could do it for you, but you were so damn determined. When you finally did beat it, you jumped up and pranced around his room like it was the biggest achievement in the world. From how happy you looked, it must've been to you, and Idia realized that he wanted to see you happy like that forever. He realized that he loved your smile and that -- oh sevens, he loves you.

X - Xtra: So, we know that Idia's hair changes color based on emotion and stuff, but there's no way that's all it can do. You can touch it when it's just the regular firey blue, that doesn't hurt, but when it flares up in anger the room he's in becomes a sauna. Do not touch it, it will give you a huge burn and Idia will be left feeling awful for weeks after. When it's pinkish, it emits this soft warm heat that's pleasant. Like a campfire. You've asked to roast marshmallows over it, and Idia replied with utmost confidence, "It doesn't work :("

[snortoborto]

This is literally the only website where fans of G3 Monster High can exist in peace without being fucking crucified by G1 purist types.

I grew up in Pony Fandom, I'm used to seeing how adults react to reboots, but I have never seen a fandom (of a children's toy line, lest we forget) act so horribly vindictive towards a reboot, and it's fans. A very high quality, thoughtful reboot at that.

You literally can't just enjoy G3 without someone screaming in your ear about how bitter they are that theyre not a kid anymore. That Monster High isn't catering to the youth culture of of 14 years ago.

I grew up in the 2010s and so many franchises from that time have been reworked. Some good and some bad, but I've never really seen quite the level of dedicated, continuous, distain for a reboot, that I see in the MH fandom.

Its just weird cause they're the same people who tout the "Be Yourself, Be Unique, Be a Monster" tag line of G1. Unless you like a different doll than them...I guess? It's so unserious. I think they remember G1 as being better, or more countercultural/progressive than it actually was. Those dolls and movies are not quite the high art, people pretend that they are.

They also constantly act like G3 killed G1. Wiped it off the face of the earth. All the old stuff is still there, PLUS Mattel is constantly releasing G1 collector dolls. Like, a lot of them.

The pride merch for this year had the G1 ghouls on it, eventhough G3 is the only version with actual cannon representation. (Yes Ik the G1 creator confirmed queer theories and intentions on social media, but it never explicitly made its way into the TV/movies. Its just coding, which is good, but still NOT explicit representation. Plus Garrett likes the new dolls, and posts them on socials. G3 has his blessing.) Why didn't we get some G3 Frankie merch to rep their NB identity? Why didn't we get G3 Clankie on a shirt or something? Mattel is still putting G1 first.

There's plenty of normal G1 fans, obviously, but the shitty ones are LOUD. Mattel can't even post an insta or tiktok video of the G3 cast, without the comments being full of people trashing G3 and attacking any commenter who likes it. Sometimes even shitting on the live action actors and VAs on their personal socials. It's gotten a little less bad since the reboot has been out over a year, but it's still a huge problem.

I'm genuinely confused as to why MH fans are acting worse about a reboot than literal bronies did about MLP G5. I love bronies, I'm a life long pony fan, but ik the fandom can have STRONG opinions on horse show.

When I started using Tumblr, I was surprised to only see love for G3. I'm sure there's hate somewhere, but not that I've seen.

Anyone else have any idea about why this might be? Are other doll-centric fandoms like this? I only really like MH dolls, so idk.