#because i like him with jodi but still want to write about him

[sdvbraindump]

Sorry to all your Kent lovers but I FINALLY figured out the 🌶️ Harvey plot 👀

[deepestnightcolor]

Hello ~ I just binged all of your Sam fics and am obsessed!! I would love to see your take on what happened during Sam's 10 heart event if you stay in the bed hehe. Thank you for your writing!!

ᴀ/ɴ: Thank you so much for the compliment and the request. It really, really means a lot to me. I simply love writing Sam as a pussy-whipped slut. I hope you enjoy, thank you for your time!

☾ ʜɪᴅᴇᴏᴜᴛ ☽

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3402 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: creampie, mentions of blood, drool, fast sex, mentions of being caught, I guess?

"Well, don't do too many push-ups, then. Good night, dear."

The click of the door signaled that Jodi had left the room, the sight that left Sam only verifying your assumption. Still, you waited. Quietly, patiently. There was no need to rush now, was there? And besides, Sam's bed smelled _so_ good. Like vanilla and cola, like fresh air. Like him.

"Shit...I'm sorry. You can come out now."

You didn't want to. Surrounded by his scent and the warmth that your position beneath the yellow sheet had caused, you felt comfortable and safe. Still, Sam could watch you shift around before your head popped up from below the bed sheet. Your hair was ruffled, and your cheeks were red. If from the rush of having to hide, or embarrassment, he didn't know. But he knew he himself was bushing due to the two things combined. He hadn't wanted to hide you, but he was painfully aware that the whole town would have known about...this had his mom seen you. And he didn't even know if you wanted this.

He gave you a smile, small and sheepish. "I'm sorry for hiding you-"

"Your bed is comfortable," you interrupted, stretching your body before slowly lifting the yellow sheet. "Try it. It's a really good hideout."

For a moment, his orbs were filled with disbelief. Confusion, even. That didn't last long, though, the look on his face quickly being swept off and replaced with a lighter one, maybe one of relief. Feeling Sam almost jump on the bed and snuggle up to you, you realized it had been a look of excitement.

His arms felt warm and heavy around you, and there was no other choice but to give in to this comforting touch.

"You know...," he murmured, snapping the rubber band around his wrist behind your back. "I usually put on rubber bands when I don't want to forget something. But this time this was unnecessary...I mean. I... I could never forget how I feel about you, you know?"

Your heart was beating up in your throat, and your breathing was now heavier. You tried to find words.

Really, you did. But all you could do was form a smile on his lips, the throbbing of your heart in your throat screaming at you to make it calm enough for him to go on.

To your great joy, Sam did. "Y'know...I...well. I haven't felt like this about anyone ever...and I-I...y'know."

Say it. Yoba, please.

"I always knew there was something special between us. That..that I really like you," he whispered, gently gripping your chin.

The smile that was plastered on your lips stayed put until you felt Sam's soft ones against yours. You heard your blood rushing in your ears as you flung your arms around his neck, kissing him back.

It started out so soft, so gentle. Mouths moving in sync, whispering the words neither of you had found in your awkwardness without using words.

You seriously didn't know how it could have escalated like this; Sam's tongue was in your mouth now, dominating yours as you eagerly sucked on it. His large hands were tracing up and down your sides, until they finally found the hem of your shirt, vanishing beneath the fabric before you could do as much as even lift it.

You moaned when the palms of his hands pressed against your tits, a sound that riled Sam up. His head was spinning, and he was pretty sure it was because of the lack of blood which slowly made its way elsewhere.

Actually, that was a lie. His dick was hardening faster than he would have ever wanted to admit, and your leg wrapping around his slender hips certainly didn’t help. He could feel the heat of your lower body matching his now, and Yoba did it feel good.

“Sam,” you whimpered in his mouth that pressed sloppy kisses to yours. Only now did he realize that his fingers were pinching your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra, leading you to grind into his erect penis. It was so tempting, after all. Right there, hot and throbbing against you.  “Mhh?” he grunted back, but the time he gave you to react was barely non-existent as his sloppy tongue entered your mouth again, teeth cluttering together when you inched closer.

 Neither of you cared, too involved in the heat of the moment. Sam’s long fingers wandered behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra and pulling it from beneath your shirt.

The piece of clothing landed in the middle of his room without much more regard to it, fingers now pressing down on the exposed flesh, hard enough to send little waves of pleasure through you, but not hard enough to satisfy the greedy hunger that was growing within you, to ease the wetness pooling between your legs.

As if reading your thoughts, he moved his head. Your lips separated with a smack and the moment you didn’t feel them on yours anymore, you craved more. The softness of them, his tongue sloppily massaging yours; the taste of his spit. You wanted it again, felt so lost without them until they met the heated skin just below your skin.

“You are so pretty,” Sam cooed, sucking the skin in his mouth. The wetness combined with the warmth made your head spin, your hips bucking forward in a search for more, more, more. What you were met with caught you both by surprise and yet filled you with contentment as the blond pressed you into the mattress, his face now hovering above yours. “Fuck, I know this is fast-“

“Just fuck me,” you whispered back, voice just barely above a whisper. You at least had to try and be quiet in here, didn’t you? After all, Jodi could hear and check up on you again.

Sam didn’t seem to share the same kind of sentiment; the moan that left his swollen lips – you must have bitten down too hard when you kissed – was loud, edging on a whimper. Even his face looked like he was already close to his orgasm, a sliver of drool falling from the corner of his mouth as he took you in.

You wanted to urge him on some more, slowly but surely growing impatient by the slowing pace, yet you didn’t have to. Long fingers found the waistband of your pants, and with one, strong tug, you felt air caress the skin of your thighs. Your breath was just barely able to hitch before your panties found their way to the ground next. Blue eyes were drawn to your pussy, staring at the glistening wet between the plush of your thighs. You bit your lower lip and spread them slowly for him, allowing him a more exposed view of what he was craving.

Sam couldn’t take his eyes off you, the look in them was one you would have never been able to describe. So full of lust and desire. His tongue was now sticking from beneath his teeth, the tent in his pants so obvious it was rewarded by a moan coming from you.

You couldn’t be quite sure what was going on behind those pretty eyes of his, but you definitely felt like he was fucking you with eyes.

“You okay, Sammy boy?” you asked, letting your fingers dance down your own body. You pinched your nipples for him, enjoying the way his eyes followed each and every move. They followed your finger, all the way down to your clit where it now was rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves. You threw a small, breathless moan in his direction, watched how he licked his lips. One time, two times. His cock was twitching in his pants, you could see it strain against the fabric. Even now he looked absolutely delicious. “Don’t you wanna fuck me?”

That seemed to bring the blond back to life. His hand flew to the fly of his pants, shaking fingers trying to slide it down. But it seemed that the zipper tried to punish him for his sudden impatience, getting stuck more often than it slipped down. You watched with an amused look in your eyes, yet if you had to be honest, this was killing you. It felt absolutely amazing to be desired in such an open, shameless way, and yet it was like your pussy was throbbing with agony over the fact that Sam wasn’t acting on it. “Come on, Sammy boy, ah fuck,” you sighed, tilting your head back into the pillow, your hips bucking upwards just as though they were inviting him. His scent was still surrounding you, which only turned you on more.

A moan was to be heard, coming right from the man towering above you. “You clenched around nothing,” he whispered, albeit his words were more stammered than coherently formed. You grinned to yourself, which was harder than it seemed because the pleasure you felt from adding pressure to your sweet little clit had you scrunching up your face. “And to think, all this time, it could have been you.”

Something wet touched your thigh. You did not need to look down to know that Sam had drooled on you, but what you hadn’t expected was to hear a ripping sound. Your head shot up, and you saw that Sam had simply ripped his jeans. The blue fabric hung loosely around his hips now, though not for much longer. Without even a moment to blink, you could hear the sound of Sam’s cock smacking against his stomach.

Your throat tightened upon seeing it; it was big and red with how hard it was. A piercing adorned the drooling tip, and if you looked closely, you could see globs of pre-cum dribble down the thick shaft, kissing the pulsing veins along the way.  “Finally- Fuck!” You gasped out, spreading your legs wider in an attempt to accommodate the red tip that was prodding at your entrance already.  “Gonna be..shit, you’re..suckin’ me in so good, baby,” he breathed, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to at least regain a small amount of composure. But your cunt – holy fuck, your cunt was pretty, so, so, pretty – sucking his tip off so well… how could he? He couldn’t, because there was no composure left.

His knuckles turned white as he slowly pushed forward, pierced tip entering you, just for his shaft to stretch you slowly. The movement of his pale hips was accompanied by a low moan that tore from the place of heated pleasure you felt deep within you. He had to stop- just had to. He was about to cum, fill you up despite not even being halfway in. You simply sounded so sweet, and your squishy walls were so wet, so welcoming. So… tempting.

That was why it wasn’t his fault! It really wasn’t – not at all. His hips did what they wanted, shoving forward quickly before he could stop himself. The moan that filled the room now came from two bodies but entered the air as one. Sam was big. Stretching your walls in an almost uncomfortable way, especially since he reached so deep. Your world seemed to spin; the only thing you could actually focus on was the face of pure pleasure above you. A thin layer of sweat had formed on his forehead, strands of blonde hair sticking to his face. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, eyes searching yours.

The bright blue sea had turned into a dark one now, and you could have drowned in them. If there had been the time.

Sam pulled out of you, only a little at first, just to thrust forward again. His eyes still were plastered on your face, gauging your reaction. You sucked in a sharp breath through your gritted teeth. Another thrust; again he was still filling you up almost completely, just to thrust into you, bottoming out. This thrust felt better than the first one, much better. And fuck, his pretty, pretty face. He was focused, working hard to not just lose control. You could see it in the way he was staring at you, in the way he bit his lip hard enough for it to draw blood. His brain might have switched to standby, but he still didn’t want to hurt you. Even if he felt like a bitch in heat right now, your comfort was his highest priority.

“Sam-“ you breathed as another short thrust filled you up. The sound of his name mixing with pleasure leaving your sweet mouth, swollen from the kisses you had shared, it all was too much. He had seriously attempted to take it slow, but his hips moved faster than his brain could think.

He leaned down to kiss you again, and this time you could not only taste his saliva but also the metallic taste of blood. You sucked on his lower lip, feeling a sudden emptiness threatening to wash over you. That feeling didn’t last long, though as Sam quickly fucked his dick back inside of you. Short, deep thrusts had now become long ones, and his hips moved fast enough to make your body bounce. Your tits jumped along with his fast rhythm, not that you cared. All you cared about was the feeling of being so perfectly full, of having his lips press kisses all over you. “So fuckin’ hot, ya know that? Listen to your pussy, baby- fuck you’re suckin’ me off,” he gasped, one hand moving beneath your thigh to push it towards your bouncing chest. The stretch his girthy dick caused was long forgotten, and again you felt the desire to have more. Lucky for you, Sam was happy to deliver.

His hips humped into you with a fast speed – the blonde wasn’t one to thrust hard, but he did thrust deep. The squelching sounds of your cunt trying to suck his wettened dick back in whenever he left you filled the room, just like Sam’s whimpers and whines of your names. He tried to busy his mouth by leaving wet spots all over your body, here and there he even was able to focus enough to suck a hickey into your flesh. Yet you doubted that it was to stay quiet; you yourself didn’t even care much anymore.

You moaned his name shamelessly, your hands finding the fabric of his shirt, fingers twisting into it. You were sure that your nails dug crescents into the skin despite the thin layer of protection, but even if you did, it didn’t seem like Sam cared. Quite the opposite, actually. Lapping at your nipple through your shirt, his hips pounded into you what he had tried to tell you before.

That he found you amazing, absolutely gorgeous. That he wanted you and needed you to be his. Even though no words were shared, your body seemed to understand, nonetheless. Working with Sam, your hips bucking up to allow him deeper. “Such..such a good girl,” he praised, the faltering of his voice, however, was a clear enough sign that he had long lost all senses of control. His dick was fucking you fast, the bed beneath you creaking dangerously, but why should he have cared? Fuck, he wanted to fuck you through the mattress, break the damn bed, too. It didn’t mean he would have stopped. “Sam!” Your moan was now high pitched, eyes clenching close. You were nearing your climax; the way you clenched around him only proved it further. It was like your  pussy was scared of him to stop, trying to prevent him from slipping out of you before you could get your sweet release.

Sam was in quite a similar position. His eyes for once had left your face, now following how well your cunt took his dick. Watching how you swallowed him whole, and how he pulled out with some more wetness covering his pulsing dick. He wasn’t sure if it was his precum or your wetness, maybe it was both. What he did know was that he wanted more. Despite his balls already pulling tight, he sped up his hips. Hands clinging onto your body to refuse you all opportunities to escape, he humped into you as if his life depended on you. Droplets of spit from his lolling tongue landed on you, but they didn’t get the string of moans and begs that now left your mouth to cease.

Suddenly, it was there. Grabbed you, threw you in the air. Your toes curled, your back arching upwards as you tried to chase Sam’s dick with your hips, your eyes rolling back in your skull. Your orgasm pulsated through you in a way that made your face and legs feel numb, and still feel the pounding into your cunt.

“Fuck, go- where do you want me-“

You were barely able to form the words that described the desperate, hot need you felt. His dick was twitching within you, and you knew he was dangerously close to the edge. Sam was panting now, his head slowly falling back. Your high was still lingering, yet the perverted need that filled your head needed to be spoken out.

“Fill me up,” you begged, your voice barely above a strained whisper, but it was enough for the blonde.

A sharp slam forward made the bed creak and the headboard slam into the wall, though the feeling that washed over you distracted you way too much. Ropes of hot cum filled you up, marking your bullied walls as Sam’s property. His head was still thrown back, his thighs twitching as he whimpered your name, voice a pitch higher than normal, and yet he shamelessly exposed what you did to him. The load that filled you up was much more than anticipated, and yet it was the only thing that could have filled the pit in your stomach that had been feeding on greed and lust for Sam.

Panting replaced the sound of skin against skin, the sound of moans as the blonde finally pulled you out, biting his lower lip when he saw some cum drip from your pretty cunt. He dropped down next to you in exhaustion, one arm immediately wrapping around you.

“Fuck,” the two of you breathed in unison, just to share a laugh. Sam smiled at you, tiredly, but also contently. You gave him a small smile back, before pressing your lips together in a last, sleepy kiss.

You had slipped out through the window with Sam after the blond had helped you clean up. He had removed any trace of dried spit and cum that he had been able to find, even though it had been much to your dismay. The walk to your farm had been quiet, but a silence that was comfortable. Your hand was wrapped in Sam's, the blond carrying a goofy smile on his tired face. The sun had just begun to rise when Sam and you shared another kiss on the front porch of your house, promising one another to meet again the very same afternoon, and Sam had left your farm both feeling giddy and totally exhausted.

He slipped in through the window of his bedroom, just barely able to get the sheets off of his bed when he heard someone clear his throat behind him. Turning around, he was met by his mom. One of her arms was crossed over her chest, the other held up a bra.

“Samson,” she began, one brow cocked. “I thought I raised you better.”

Blood shot in his cheeks, his brain whirring as he tried to come up with a way to explain things, but Jodi just shook her head.

“Hiding a nice girl like her; she deserves better than that, Samson! Here. I put her bra in the wash and dryer, so at least be a gentleman this time and give it back to her.”

He felt like the blush that had blossomed on his cheeks had now wandered to his lips, making them too heavy to speak. Instead, he stared at his mom, with his mouth open.

Jodi rolled her eyes, throwing the bra at him. “You know, there was a time when I was young, too,” she said, already turning to leave his room. Sam looked at the piece of clothing in his hands, swallowing thickly.

“Oh, and Sam?”

It was the first time he had been able to speak: “Yes, mom?”

“Next time you do “push-ups”, be quieter. Or maybe visit your gym buddy.”

[mariacallous]

Salman Rushdie has just published Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder. In August 2022, he was giving a talk at the Chautauqua Institution in New York. Hadi Matar, a 24-year-old from New Jersey, rushed the stage and stabbed him 15 times. It was astonishing that Salman survived. He lost the sight in one eye and sustained terrible injuries, but he’s still with us and he’s still writing, and unlike Hadi Matar, he’s still worth hearing.

We think of fanatics as stalkers with an obsessive knowledge of their targets.  Like the antisemites who compile lists of Jews in the media or the homophobes who so focus on the details of gay sex they might almost be closet cases

Most terrorists and bigots are not like that. They are like soldiers in an army who kill and hate for no other reason than tradition or men in authority have told them to kill and hate. If we were less fascinated by the pseudo-glamour of violence, we would see them for what they are: dullards and jerks.

In Knife Salman is almost as angered by the sheer lazy stupidity of his wannabee assassin as his violence.

“I do not want to use his name in this account. My Assailant, my would-be Assassin, the Asinine man who made Assumptions about me, and with whom I had a near-lethal Assignation … I have found myself thinking of him, perhaps forgivably, as an Ass.”

The ass “didn’t bother to inform himself about the man he decided to kill. By his own admission he read barely two pages of my writing and watched a couple of YouTube videos”.

That was enough, apparently, along with a little light indoctrination in the Levant.

We know from Matar’s mother that her son changed from a popular young man to a moody religious zealot after visiting her ex-husband in the Hezbollah-controlled town of Yaroun in Lebanon, a mile or so from the Israeli border.

“I was expecting him to come back motivated, to complete school, to get his degree and a job. But instead, he locked himself in the basement. He had changed a lot. He didn't say anything to me or his sisters for months.”

Salman quotes a wonderfully perceptive line from Jodi Picoult

“If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”

Rushdie is openly contemptuous, as he has every right to be.

“I see you now at twenty-four,” he writes, “already disappointed by life, disappointed in your mother, your sisters, your father, your lack of boxing talent, your lack of any talent at all; disappointed in the bleak future you saw stretching ahead of you, for which you refused to blame yourself.”

This has always been the way. Readers old enough to remember 1989 when the Ayatollah Khomeini ordered Salman’s execution for writing a blasphemous satire of Islam’s origin story in the Satanic Verses,will know that Khomeini had not read it. Nor had the furious demonstrators in the streets or the regressive leftists and Tory ministers who upbraided him for the non-crime of causing offence.

Those of us who had read the book pointed out that it was a magical realist fiction which contained sympathetic accounts of the racism Muslim immigrants in the UK suffered. Indeed, the Tories of the day loathed Salman, we continued, because of his confrontations with official racism.

But after a while we fell silent. Pleading with his enemies felt demeaning. It gave them undeserved credit, as if they were reasonable people, who could be swayed by evidence rather than just, well, pillocks.

In Knife Salman attempts an imaginary conversation with his persecutor.

OK, he says, Islam, unlike Judaism and Christianity, holds that man is not made in God’s image. God has no human qualities, it says.

But isn’t language a human quality? To have language, God would have to have a mouth, a tongue, vocal cords and a voice, just like a man. The terrorist’s understanding is that God cannot be like a man, however. So, God could not have spoken to Gabriel in Arabic. Gabriel must have translated his message when he came to the prophet.

The angel made it comprehensible to Muhammed by delivering it in human speech which is not the speech of God.

Thus, the version of Islamic instruction Matar received in his basement when he switched from playing video games to listening to Imams was an interpretation of a translation.

“I’m trying to suggest to you that, even according to your own tradition, there is uncertainty. Some of your own early philosophers have suggested this. They say everything can be interpreted, even the Book. It can be interpreted according to the times in which the interpreter lives. Literalism is a mistake.”

For a while, Rushdie says he wants to meet Matar again at the trial, as if he wants to have the argument in the flesh.

He tells a story about Samuel Beckett, which could only have happened to Samuel Beckett.

Beckett was walking through Paris in 1938 when he was confronted by a pimp named Prudent, who wanted money from him. Beckett pushed Prudent away, whereupon the pimp pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the chest, narrowly missing the left lung and the heart.

Beckett was taken to the nearest hospital, bleeding heavily. He only just survived.

You will never guess who paid for his treatment. James Joyce, of course, he did.

Anyway, Beckett went to the pimp’s trial. He met Prudent in the courtroom, and asked him why he had done it. This was the pimp’s reply: “Je ne sais pas, monsieur. Je m’excuse.” (I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.)

But the more he thought about it, the less Rushdie had to say to his enemy. The idea that you can have theological arguments with a man who wants to kill you for writing a book he hasn’t even read felt ridiculous.

Although popular culture is full of stories about murderers, and true crime podcasts top the charts, killers and fanatics are nearly always less interesting than their victims. More often than not they are just thick. Nasty and vicious, but thick first of all.

We are about to see the stupidity of fanatics deployed on a mass scale. Two thirds of Republican voters (and nearly 3 in 10 Americans) continue to believe that the 2020 election was stolen from Donald Trump, and that Joe Biden was not lawfully elected. They think it because that is what Trump told them to think.

Islamists told Matar that Salman was an apostate, and that was all he needed to know. Trump told Republicans the election was stolen and ditto.

If Republicans were consistent people, they would not vote for Trump in 2024. What would be the point? They would have every reason to fear that the deep state would rig the 2024 presidential election as it rigged the 2020 presidential election.

But they will vote for him because, once again, that is what he tells them to do.

In the end there is a limit to how much attention you can pay the vicious and the stupid.

They are not interesting enough, as Rushdie concluded with marvellous disdain as he contemplated the life sentence Matar will face.

"Here we stand: the man who failed to kill an unarmed seventy-five-year-old writer, and the now 76-year-old writer. Somewhat to my surprise, I find I have very little to say to you. Our lives touched each other for an instant and then separated. Mine has improved since that day, while yours has deteriorated. You made a bad gamble and lost. I was the one with the luck… Perhaps, in the incarcerated decades that stretch out before you, you will learn introspection, and come to understand that you did something wrong. But you know what? I don’t care. This, I think, is what I have come to this courtroom to say to you. I don’t care about you, or the ideology that you claim to represent, and which you represent so poorly. I have my life, and my work, and there are people who love me. I care about those things.”

[kaleldobrev]

What Are We?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hey! How are ya? I don’t know if you write for chubby reader but if you’re comfortable with that then could you write something about dean and reader being in a situationship and the reader thinks he doesn’t wanna date her cause of how she looks and he confesses that he actually likes her? You can change it however you want. Thank you so much!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Cursing (2x), Angst, Fluff, Talks of body "issues"

Authors Note: Thanks for the request anon friend! Of course I’ll write it. I don’t discriminate and neither would Dean 👌🏻 | As a girlie who has a slight muffin top myself, I loved this prompt <3 | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Situationship (noun): a romantic or sexual relationship that is not considered to be formal or established.

This was the type of relationship that you've had with Dean for the past several months. At first, it was something that you were okay with because you thought that maybe it would eventually turn into something more. As you felt that if he liked you enough to sleep with you, make out with you, and basically do everything a "normal" couple does, then why wouldn't he eventually want to make things official with you down the road? But it's been months, and there's been remotely no talks about making things exclusive, and you were really starting to wonder why.

Exclusivity was a word that you wouldn't use to describe Dean, but it was something that you wanted with him, wanted with him because he was the one person that you could genuinely see yourself being with. But at this point, based on the current situation that the two of you were in, you were afraid that he didn't actually want to be with you, that he was just using you until he had found someone better...found someone that was his usual toothpick thin type that he tended to go for, which wasn't your body type.

When it came to your body type, it was something that you had a love/hate relationship with. You weren't the thinnest girl in the world, but you still liked the way you looked, as you believed the muffin top you had was just something more to love. And at this point in your situationship, you didn't think Dean minded either, as he would always trail kisses along your stomach, telling you how beautiful you were, and how perfect you were. Complimenting how much he loved your thick thighs as he gripped them. But at the same time, that talk seemed to never leave the comforts of the Bunker; and if it did, it stayed strictly around your mutual friends. The hand holding and kisses would cease as soon as the two of you would leave the Bunker, and you couldn't help but think that he was embarrassed to be seen with you, be seen as someone that he was romantic with.

That's why you were confused, confused about what was actually going on between the two of you. He would constantly tell you how beautiful you were and hold your hand, and do those types of things in front of Sam, Jack, Cas, Jodi, Donna, but would never do these things in public. You were good enough to sleep with, but yet you weren't good enough to be considered his girlfriend?

You walked down the hall, a few books in hand as you made your way to the War Room. But you were stopped when you heard Dean call your name from his bedroom as you walked past. You turned around quickly, and went back to stand in his doorway. “What’s up Dean?” You asked.

“You didn’t say hi to me when you walked past,” he stated, flipping to the next page in his book.

To be honest, you did see him, and normally, you would have said hi to him, maybe chatted for a little bit until you eventually made your way into the War Room. But today, because of what was on your mind, you didn't really want to speak to him until you were sure about how you were going to handle this situationship between the two of you. “Oh, sorry,” you apologized.

“You okay Sweetheart? You seem distracted today,” he stated closing his book.

“I’m always like this,” you said. He got up from his bed and started making his way toward you.

“No, you’re not actually. Your voice is different, and your body language tells me other wise,” he said. “So, what’s up?”

“Very Sherlock of you,” you said. “I’m fine honestly.”

He looked at you with slight disbelief. “Y/N, we've been friends long enough for me to tell when you're lying." There it was. Friends. He used the word friends. You weren't sure if you should be relieved or disappointed.

“Yeah…friends,” you repeated the word.

“Are we not…friends?” He seemed hurt by your usage of the word, which caused you even more confusion.

“Honestly, I don’t know what we are,” you admitted, and you didn't expect those words of yours to come out like that.

He cocked a brow. “What do you mean? Did I do something?” As long as Dean could recall, he hadn't done anything to have hurt you as of late. He tried to recollect everything that he had done or said to you over the last couple of days, and he was honestly coming up with nothing; but there must of be something, as you would have never said something like that to him if there wasn't at least something wrong.

“No, no, you did nothing wrong I’m just…” you sighed. “I’m confused that’s all.”

“What are you confused about?” He asked.

“Do you mind if I came in and we closed the door?” You asked, and he nodded. He felt himself get nervous just as much as you were starting to feel the same. Holding your books in your hand you walked inside and Dean shut the door behind you. Setting your books on his table the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. You had no idea where to start, as you thought you'd have more time to figure out this conversation in your head. “I’m confused about what we are.”

“What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

"What this is between us. You say that we're friends, but we have sex, make out, more often than not sleep in the same bed together, do everything normal couples do but yet...you say that we're friends."

"If you don't want us doing any of that anymore that's...fine," he said, but Dean wasn't remotely fine with stopping what was going on between the two of you, because he loved being able to just crawl into your bed at night and just kiss you and hold you in his arms.

You sighed in frustration, as he seemed to completely ignore the point you were trying to make. "That's not what I'm saying Dean. What I'm saying is, well, I'm more like asking really." You took a deep breath, and you felt your heart start to race, slightly afraid to ask what you were about to ask. "If I'm good enough to sleep with and do couple things with, why am I not good enough to be your girlfriend?"

Dean honestly didn't know what to say to you. Well, he did, but he knew that it was a poor excuse of an answer, an answer that he knew that you weren't going to believe even though it was true. All he wanted was to be with you, exclusively be with you (which he essentially already was). But he was afraid, afraid that the second the two of you mutually agreed to be together and only together, that you'd eventually realize pretty quickly how disappointing of a person that he was, that the novelty of him would somehow wear off. "It's cause I'm not thin right?" You asked.

Your question caught him off guard, honestly annoyed that you would say that was the reason he didn't want to be exclusive with you. He honestly didn't understand why you had thought that was the reason, as he thought that he had made it pretty clear how beautiful he thinks you are inside and out. But, apparently he hasn't been doing a good of job as he thought he had been. "What? Y/N, that's not the reason," he stated, his voice slightly annoyed.

"Then what is the reason Dean? I mean, that's honestly the only reason I can think of. Well, that or...you're embarrassed by me," you said, your voice getting lower.

“I’m not embarrassed by you Y/N, you know that,” he said.

"If you're not embarrassed by me, then why won't you hold my hand in public?" You asked. "Because, it's just weird to me you know? I mean, you have no issue telling me how beautiful I am in front of Donna, Sam, Jack. You have no problem kissing me in front of Claire or Cas. But the second we aren't around any of those people, the second we are outside of the Bunker, you want nothing to do with that with me anymore." Your voice was about to break, as all you wanted to do was just not have this conversation anymore; you just wanted to crawl into bed under the covers.

Dean knew you had a point, and he could fully admit to everything that you had just said. He did only hold your hand, or kiss you, or tell you how beautiful you were when they were in the presence of friends or family, but it was because he could be vulnerable in front of them; he wasn't afraid to be vulnerable in front of them, but he was afraid to be vulnerable in front of people he didn't know, afraid that they were somehow going to use the love he had for you against him, and it was something he didn't want to risk. "I'm sorry," he began finally, and you raised a brow at his response. "I'm not embarrassed by you Y/N, not at all. And the reason I'm not with you, with you isn't because I don't think you're skinny enough," he hated saying those words. "Honestly, it fucking breaks my heart that you think that's the reason because I think I do a pretty good job at telling you how beautiful you are," he said, taking your hand. "And it's not just bedroom talk. I honestly think you're so fucking beautiful."

"Even with my muffin top?" You asked, slight amusement in your voice, but you were still serious in your question.

"It's just more of you for me to love," he said.

"When you mean love..." you trailed off. "See, now I'm more confused."

He sighed. "I know what I'm about to say is something that you're not going to believe, but it's the truth," he took a deep breath before he continued. "Not only do I think you're too good for me, but I'm afraid that someone will use what we have together against me somehow, against us somehow. And...I can't...I can't risk that." I love you too much, he wanted to say.

"So, you're telling me the reason you don't hold my hand in public is because you're afraid some demon or something will see that and then use it against us?" You asked, clarifying. "Dean." You wanted to not believe him, but you did, and you hated that this was the reason. You hated that because he was so afraid of losing you, losing what the two of you have, that he didn't want to even hold your hand outside of the Bunker walls.

"I know you don't believe me Sweetheart," he said, his voice sounding slightly sad.

"I do Dean I just..." you sighed. "You know I can take care of myself right? How many times have you seen me take on two, three, four creatures at time and only had a single scratch?" You took his other hand. "Dean, I genuinely want to be with you if you want to be with me. I know you're afraid that you're going to lose me but, newsflash, I'm afraid of losing you too. That's...that's just what life is Dean. It's just more of a reason to go for it, because...we might not always be here."

Dean knew you were right, you were always right. And to your point, it was something that he hated, but he couldn't help but find himself agreeing with. He would rather have a little bit of time with you than nothing at all, because at least he would have some memories of the good times you had together, instead of the constant, "What if's?"

"Dean, I love you," you said. "You're the only person I want to be with okay?" You leaned in, and so did he, mere inches away from each other's lips.

"Love you too Sweetheart," he replied back. He leaned in fully now, meeting his lips to yours.

"Does this mean we're together? Like you'll actually hold my hand in public or is that still off the table?" You whispered.

Dean grinned. "I'll grab your ass in public if you want me to," he winked, and you felt yourself slightly blush at his comment.

The two of you knew that the newfound relationship wasn't going to be easy, but it was something that the two of you were willing to fight for.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hihi I'm new here! I really like your headcanons. Would it be alright if I could ask headcanons for the bachelors and how their romantic relationship with a farmer that already has a kid from a different relationship progress?

Like, one day a kid just randomly shows up at the farmer's doorstep with a social worker and farmer had to explain that their ex couldn't keep the child anymore, and the kid is also super anxious about moving in with them or something.

I'm really sorry- it was a scenario I've seen dabbled into once and I'm just very curious as to what others think of it too aha.

If this ask is not your cup of tea, feel free to disregard it. Have a great day op ���✨

Hellooooo!

Sorry for the delay, dear anon. This headcanon just turned out bigger than I planned 😅 Hope I understood your question correctly. Thank you very much for the ask, and enjoy! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

SDV bachelors x Farmer, that already has a kid from a different relationship:

Shane:

Oh, man. This is all very awkward...

Shane knew about Farmer's ex, the reason for the breakup and the fact that the child was in the care of their ex in Zuzu City.

Farmer visited their child almost every week, calling and writing letters, but Shane himself was not particularly involved, not knowing how to approach the little one.

Naturally, when the kid came to visit the farm, the chicken man would try to make the kid feel comfortable, but considering everything they'd been through, even here it was pretty awkward.

On the plus side, they was the same age as Jas, and the kids had become fast friends in a short time.

Farmer encouraged their spouse's attempts at friendship with their kid, but again, things were still pretty awkward.

When the Farmer's child arrived with a social worker some time later, Shane noticed how much the little one resembled him in his yought - confused, scared, resentful of everyone and tired of everything. Their familiar world where both parents were together was gone forever.

Later, Shane was able to explain how he'd been in a similar situation, how he'd almost lost because of the mistakes he'd made trying to cope with pain.

The kid quickly found common ground with him. Especially after they confessed that they liked chickens!

Shane doesn't claim to be a father, as the kid is pretty mature and understands on their own.

But he will treat them with the same care and responsibility as he does Jas.

They are all kinda weird family, but Shane loves them all and still can't believe how lucky he is.

Sam:

It's quite a tricky situation, but thanks to his friendliness and personality, Sam is great with kids.

When Farmer finally introduced their kid to Sam, the young guitarist immediately went into cool brother/uncle mode.

The kid was worried, but Sam began to slowly gain their trust by asking about their interest in comics or other hobbies.

It makes him happy that the kid can forget about problem and concerns at least for now, because children should be happy and play while they have their childhood.

Sam knows that Farmer broke up with their ex more or less calmly, without scandal or drama, but he knows, like Farmer, it was still hard for the kid.

He's glad that he and Farmer are trying their best to be in theirs life.

The kid's upset look and the presence of the social worker took Sam by surprise.

While the social worker was talking to Farmer, Sam offered the anxious kid something to eat. Or some space, if they still feel uncomfortable.

After learning the reason for the visit and the fact that the kid will now live on the farm, Sam gently asks his partner how he should handle this. He wants to cheer the kid up, but he also doesn't want to make them more anxious.

Fortunately, Vincent and the kid get along quickly, which pleases both Farmer and Sam. Now, though, they need to keep an eye on the kids, or they'll both get into more trouble.

Jodi and Kent also do everything they can to make Farmer's kid feel comfortable (Jodi now spoils them with tasty baked goods).

Farmer can't help but be joyful with how hard Sam tries for them and their kid and his family to keep everyone happy.

Alex:

Farmer was telling Alex about their loser ex, who had decided to trade Farmer and their child for a some stranger. What a shameless cheater...

Farmer visited their kid almost every week, but Alex was only able to go with them a few times.

At the sight of their ex, the athlete was so itching to break their nose. But he tried to keep his temper in front of the kid.

The child turns out to be a kind young one, though a bit shy and reserved. Alex thanks Yoba that they are more like the Farmer in looks and personality than the other parent.

Despite the awkward pause at first, the kid seems to like Alex. Of course, he's cool, kind, and gives them ice cream! Alex's trips with Farmer became more frequent and his friendship with Farmer's little kid grew stronger.

Some time later, when a confused Alex let the stranger into the house, he was shocked to find Farmer's kid standing behind him. They looked... so sad.

The social worker announced that the ex had decided to relinquish parental rights and the child had been brought here.

The poor kid was quieter than a mouse, but Alex was as friendly as possible and tried to cheer him up.

In the back of his mind, though, he felt a wild rage, because he could hear that the reason the ex had refused to give up their own child was because their new partner didn't want to babysit them.

Alex knows more than anyone what it's like when one parent is such a dirtbag. But right now he doesn't care about losers, he's got Farmer and their kid.

Getting the kid used to the new environment was very difficult, but Alex helped them get to know the local children.

Evelyn accepted the kid as her own great-grandchild, remembering to feed them delicious baked goods. George was a bit stingy with his emotions, but he also accepted them as his own.

Alex will not leave them in trouble and will help them to cope with all the difficulties. Now the Farmer and their child are his family.

Sebastian:

Sebastian feels awkward and doesn't know what to do. Help.

He and the Farmer's child were so similar in personality when they met - silent, shy and withdrawn.

Sebastian realises that Farmer's child is having a hard time with the fact that their parents are divorced. But emo doesn't know how to start a conversation.

So when Farmer left Sebby and their kid alone for half an hour, there was an awkward silence for the first 5 minutes.

The kid was already getting bored. Sebastian decided to give it a try after all.

"Do you like frogs?" Judging by the spark in the kid's eyes, they had already found at least one topic of interest to both of them.

Farmer smiles when they returned to see the two of them chatting about different amphibians.

A few such encounters and Sebastian had become a cool uncle to them.

Sebastian was hurt to hear that Farmer's ex had given up their parental rights, when Farmer's kid had already visited them, with a social worker.

He will leave the kid alone, as they definitely need some time alone and to collect their thoughts.

Yet, Sebby and the Farmer are always there to cheer up the kid.

On a rainy day, he will show the baby the best place to find frogs.

Sebastian is good at supporting both his partner and their baby.

It can be awkward at times, but Sebby loves them all, so it will be okay.

Harvey:

Given Harvey's profession, he's pretty adept at finding common ground with anxious children.

So when Farmer first introduced Harvey to their child from their first marriage, the local Pelican Town doctor already knew how to behave.

He's glad that despite the divorce, Farmer is trying their best to support their kid, as stress can take a big toll on not only their mental health, but their physical health as well.

Even more so, it's not the child's fault that fate has worked out this way and their parents live in completely different places.

Of course, Harvey is not as "cool" as other bachelors, but he manages to interest the child in his model aeroplanes.

Maybe if they like to read, the doctor will give them something interesting to read (something that isn't a medical encyclopedia).

Harvey almost cried when the kid called him uncle and cool adult.

And all was going smoothly until a social worker knocked on the door of the farmhouse.

After explaining that the other parent, Farmer's ex, could no longer financially support the child, they placed the child in their care.

Harvey is worried about them, because all the fear of moving, new surroundings, and separated parents can have a very negative effect on poor kid.

Harvey will try to be there to help them and Farmer.

Maybe insist on therapy for the kid. Still, it could use some professional help.

Fortunately, Harvey knows what to do and he won't let anyone or anything upset Farmer and their kid. Doctor's words!

Elliott:

Elliott still can't believe that Farmer's ex turned out to be such a coward and unworthy person! Cheating on Farmer. when they already had a child together!

Of course, now Farmer is with him, and yes, it's not worth spending all the nerves on the past, but it's just that the writer is outraged to the core.

Also outraged that the ex just abandoned their child like that, saying they "don't have time for them now." Unbelievable!

Poor child... As much as the Farmers tried to comfort their own kud, all of these events took a heavy toll on them. And Elliott decided it was his duty to help the kid and Farmer, the love of his life.

His first attempts, though, end awkwardly, as Elliott doesn't know where to start. And should he start so immediately? Maybe they need some alone time on the contrary?

He decided to pick up a couple of books to help (mostly children's books, and a couple of books about how to communicate with children/teens).

The writer was lucky that the kid loves books!

There was even a moment when the kid felt comfortable around Elliott and asked them to help make their own little book. Elliott is more than happy to help them.

He also won't forget to praise the Farmer, because it was through their efforts and love that their child didn't fall victim to the neglect of the other parent. It's a shame that, coincidentally, the kid didn't arrive sooner.

Elliott will have a bit of a hard time, but he will do a great job in the role of carer for the Farmer and their kid, accepting them as his own child.

[mister-qi]

Mr. Qi Friendship and Romance Mod Devlog 5/9/2024

Previous update

For those curious about the mod progress, read on!

Since the previous update, most of my efforts have been spent on Art and Implementation. While I've made some progress on Writing, that hasn't been my main focus.

Writing

Heart Events: no major progress, besides a bit of writing/blocking for the 4 heart cutscene.

Daily Dialogues: Generic dailies are 64% done. Unique dailies are currently on the back-burner. Marriage dailies are also on the back-burner, but I have quite a few written regardless.

Misc dialogues: A new section! This includes so many little details, which even get as hyper-specific as what happens if you divorce him and then attempt to invite him to a movie. What does he say if you give him a bouquet at low hearts? What does he say if you're married to him and there are slimes in the house? Stuff like that! There are 49 of these written so far, and it's hard to estimate my progress because as I continue looking through both the documentation and existing files I get more and more ideas.

Gift Dialogues: Not a ton of progress since the previous update, though I've written his birthday gift reactions.

Art

Portraits: 2 new portraits finished: blush and shocked.

Sprites: You may have seen me posting about this, but Mr. Qi does not have a walk cycle in the vanilla game, so I had to make custom animations for him. I've also changed his color scheme to better match his sprites.

Besides that, I've also made a walk cycle for the Bouncer, who will show up in at least one cutscene, maybe two.

look at him go!

Maps: I'm really excited to announce that I've recruited someone to help with maps! Their name is wovensong, and they're currently working on the Casino VIP Room, which features in the 10 heart cutscene. They're helping with both the sprites and .tmx files, which is a huge help.

Misc sprites: none yet

Implementation

I have a functional version of Mr. Qi that can be befriended in my files now. He doesn't have a ton of dialogue in game yet, but you can give him stuff, raise his friendship, and trigger some placeholder heart events. But getting to that point has been kind of a hassle, in ways that the average modder doesn't have to deal with!

You see... the vanilla "Mister Qi" has a space in his internal name. If you know anything about coding, this should be setting off alarm bells.

Here's an example of where that's an issue: say you want to trigger a cutscene at two hearts with an NPC. You'd write something like:

f Jodi 500

which the game reads as "trigger this cutscene when you have 500 amount of friendship with the NPC named Jodi"

But if you were to write:

f Mister Qi 500

the game would go "you want me to trigger this cutscene when you have Qi amount of friendship with the NPC named Mister?? WTF?" and then SMAPI throws you a big red error and the cutscene would never trigger. Yippee!

It took me... a while to figure out how to get around this. Luckily the 1.6 update now allows for parsing for quotes in certain scenarios, so what actually works is:

f \"Mister Qi\" 500

So I'm glad that I started this mod now instead of pre-1.6!

However, it's definitely possible that the space in the internal name will cause issues down the line, so I have some (rough) code for what to do in that scenario. This involves hiding the vanilla Mister Qi, and adding a new, identical NPC with an internal name that doesn't have a space. Other mods, such as Morris Redeemed and some NPCs like Marlon and Gunther in SVE, do this as well.

And, if you're thinking that I could just change the internal name itself: maybe?? But probably not. There's some hardcoded stuff surrounding Mister Qi, and I worry about breaking it. Additionally, if any future official Stardew updates added new content revolving around Mister Qi, there's a risk that the mod would break in more serious ways.

Final Notes

Overall, I feel like I'm making pretty good progress! There's still a lot to get done, but I'm proud of the work I've done so far. Thanks for reading!

[strdwvlly]

i know a gazillion people have done this already but... i'm gonna post my stardew valley bachelor/ette age hcs + my reasoning hehe

to start this off, i want to say that this is based on what concernedape said about all of them being 20+ but they're also all my personal hcs so i understand if you disagree!

ok that being said, here we go

- maru: 22. she works as a nurse as well as helping her dad with research, i think she's young but not Too young ykwim? demetrius is also really strict so it adds to her seeming young

- penny: 23. it seems like she's been teaching the kids for a few years already even though she hasn't gone to college yet, she also seems older than she is cus she's had to parent her mother :/

- sam: 25. since he lives at home, i think people think he's younger but tbf i know a lot of mid 20 somethings who live at home (me included until recently). i also think jodi and kent had him really young, like 18ish, typical military couple situation

- sebastian: 27. he remembers a time before robin married demetrius so he has to be at least 4 years older than maru, and i think he's a little older because i don't think robin gave birth immediately after getting remarried

- abigail: 23. she's comfortable hanging out with sam and sebastian but definitely seems younger than them, plus she's doing online school which tends to take longer than traditional uni

- alex: 20. to be honest he just seems like the youngest to me, he still wears his varsity jacket and has big dreams of playing gridball and stuff. also a lot of unresolved trauma.

- haley: 22. she's bratty but in a cute tsundere way which makes me think she might be on the younger side. plus she gives me (and everyone else) huge closeted lesbian vibes, so i feel like she hasn't fully come into her identity yet

- emily: 30. i feel like there's a significant age gap between her and haley cus she has second mom vibes and they also seem to have some friction in terms of responsibilities because emily does a lot for haley

- leah: 31. she gives me huge "i hit 30 and realized i needed to change my entire life" energy when she talks about leaving her ex and moving to stardew valley

- harvey: 34. i think he's the oldest, like he doesn't feel ancient but at the same time he had to have gone through med school and his residency so 34 feels comfortable

- shane: 31. he seems older because of the depression and the trauma, but i don't think he's past his early 30s yet, he kinda stopped taking care of himself so it just looks that way

- elliott: 32. he's got big "phd student who abandoned a career in academia to write his great american novel" type vibes, and he's not really self conscious about being very poetic and flowery so i think he's out of his tumultuous twenties

[eemamminy-art]

not obligated to answer this but if you have anymore thoughts about alex sdv (or stardew valley at all) please share. i am obsessed with alex

Oh hell yeah anon you've activated my current hyperfixation 😁 I have a google doc where I'm dropping my headcanons and a bulleted timeline for a Alex/m!farmer longfic I've been writing in my head that's up to about 13 pages now ahaha so here's a few things!!

When he first moved to Pelican Town he was actually really quiet and reserved because he was still grieving heavily, so he never really got close to the other kids. He talks about how he played gridball with his mom so I think once he got the chance to play that in school (in another town no doubt) I think he came out of his shell then and made some friends, but all those friends lived far enough away that after graduating high school he's been pretty lonely and never could connect with the other people his own age in town.

He never goes into the saloon to my knowledge prior to the 10-heart event dinner scene, so I headcanon that it's because he doesn't drink alcohol and doesn't want the temptation to try it. I don't remember if it's said explicitly but I got the impression his dad's abuse stemmed from being drunk so I imagine Alex refuses to touch the stuff out of both principle and fear of becoming like his father one day.

I said it in another post but I headcanon him as gay and suffering comphet. He's built himself up as this cool popular guy, so he tries to emulate the sexist straight guys he's seen in movies but there's absolutely nothing behind it. He says something rude to a girl and then is like uhhh (shit what now) bye! 😅 I want to think that in getting to know the farmer he not only does away with that facade but also gets more comfortable in his sexuality!!

and on a sidenote to the above: I hc most of the town as gay or bi and I am toying with the idea of Abby being transfem! Sam/Seb is a given, and maaaybe they're in a poly relationship with Abby but I'm still undecided!! I like Maru/Penny as a concept but need to marinate on that a bit more, I see them always sitting together and it makes me happy but I need to think more on how they met and what their relationship would be like. I don't have anything solid yet in terms of other characters' gender or sexuality headcanons exactly, other than Caroline and Jodi being bi and desperately yearning to run away together 🥰

But back to Alex!! With how his storyline goes of trying to impress others with his jock persona, then trying to switch gears and be super booksmart, I headcanon that he gets close to the farmer via the farmer tutoring him so he can take a community college placement test. :3 My thought for why he's in the rut he's in is that he wanted to play college gridball but his grades in high school were so bad he has done nothing with himself since graduation and has just been stagnating and becoming more and more bitter (which only amps up his shitty attitude when the player first meets him). So trying to get educated is doubly good for him because he can work toward his sports dream (in a way) and try to impress the farmer. Though of course, the thing that brings them closer is Alex learning to be true to himself 😊

This is getting long, so last thing: he's actually a really well-rounded homemaker but does not even think about it really. George has been disabled for a long time, so all of the handy work around the house has to be handled by Alex, and he's so eager to help out his grands. :3 They put a roof over his head so of course he'll climb up onto it to fix the leaks when it rains! Evelyn is always cooking and baking and Alex is so soft for his granny he has been in the kitchen helping her for as long as he's lived with them, so he's actually got a real talent for cooking and baking too! One of the first things he learned after moving in with them was the proper way to set a table, and the best way to wash dishes efficiently. He's spent enough time at Haley's house having no chemistry with the poor girl, but found Emily's whole sewing setup really fascinating and she taught him to mend the holes in his letterman jacket when he asked so he knows how to hand sew! These are all skills that he has but doesn't recognize as skills, he just inherently has this desire to help the people in his life so he picks up this and that to make it easier!

Anyway! Thank you for letting me ramble 😄 Alex is really sweet and soft underneath the mask he wears, and he's been rotating in my head for the last few months hehe

I had bought sdv when it came out but barely touched it, and started it up again on a whim earlier this year and I'm so glad I did!! I really adore the game and it's bringing me a lot of joy currently 🥺

[vintagepresley]

Lil' Speckled Pup

Here's a little Jodie Tatum blurb I wrote tonight. It's not much but just a little something to help me get back into writing. It's honestly not that great because I was struggling and getting distracted, lol. But this is inspired by my conversation with the Jodie ai and the movie. You guys know I love Jodie, lol. He and midge are so cute. So the reader is basically midge in this blurb.

Being a woman in the army you didn’t get put on too many important jobs until your sargent wanted you up in the Smokey Mountains with Josh Morgan for some important project. You jumped at the chance to get away from your desk. You’d never been up to the smokies, but had heard how the people could be sometimes. You had been on an important mission there and helping Josh for a few days now. One person in particular took an interest in you in there, Jodie Tatum. He looked just like Josh which confused you at first. But you tried to avoid every situation you could with him because he just stared at you like a lost little puppy. You tried to not let it affect you or the job you were there to do. You arrived once again up in the mountains and when you did you were taking in the sites and the area as you always did, it was beautiful up in the smokies, and you were taking a few notes here and there. Josh had been related to the Tatums so it was easy for him to talk with them and get them to trust him. You stood back and let him handle it as you continued to take some notes. That was until an unexpected presence emerged. 

“Ah’m the champion wrassler ‘round these mountains.” the southern voice says. 

You furrowed your brow and looked over to the man, he was tall, muscular, and blonde in a red flannel and jeans, it was Jodie. This was the first time you actually spoke to one another. “I’m sorry? ” you say confused, looking at him and then at Josh. 

“Ah’m the champion wrassler!” he repeats. 

“You stare at him now still with a confused look on your face. “I see.. And who made you champion?” you ask, 

Jodie gives you a look like he’s slightly offended by your question. “Nobody made me the champ. Ah made mahself the champ. Ah trained long and hard for a decade to get where ah am. Nobody can beat me, least of all some pretty city girl like you. 

You put your hands on your hands and furrow your brow at him. “I never said I wanted to fight you and I don’t plan on it.” you say with an annoyed tone. 

Jodie smirks a bit at your response. He didn’t actually think you’d want to fight him, he just wanted a reason to talk to you. The first time he spotted you in your army uniform and was immediately taken with you. He had never seen a woman like you before and he had been with a lot of women, but none had made him feel like you did. He made himself so concerned with you that he forgot all about Josh. He steps closer to you. You step back when he does, staring at him. Jodie smiles now and he can’t stop staring at you. You furrow your brow because you don’t know why he’s just staring at you and you clear your throat. “Something wrong?” you ask. 

Jodie continues to smile, staring at you and just admiring every single little thing about you. He shakes his head. “No.. Just admirin’ yer beauty.” he says with a grin. 

You roll your eyes at his comment. “I’ve got work to do.” you mumble as you walk past him. But he follows you and quickly gets in front of you. You jump back a bit as you look at him. “You let me by! I’m on an important mission, you ol’ moonstruck ape!” you shout. 

Jodie grins at her. 

“I knew the first time I laid eyes on you that you was meant for me.” he hums. 

“Well you’re not for me buster! I’m coming through!” you shout. 

“Ain’t no need for ya tryin’ to fight me. I told ya I’m the champion wrassler of those whole mountain, ma’am.” Jodie grins. 

You look at him and put on a smile as you walk toward him. “Well… Maybe you’re right..” you say sweetly as you get closer to him and then you grab him and flip him over onto the ground and then you try to run but not before you hear him yell out in pain when he lands on his back. You gasp and turn back thinking you may have hurt him and you run over to him with tenderness in your eyes. Jodie sits up on his elbows as he looks up at you. He’s in shock that a woman of your size was able to flip him over that way. His heart was pounding and he suddenly realized just how attracted he was with you. If he wasn't already in love with you he surely was now. You both share a tender look to one another and you kneel down toward him. 

“Are you hurt?” you ask concerned. 

Jodie smiles and shakes his head. “Nah..” he mumbles, staring at you for a moment. You didn’t know what was happening or what you were feeling at that moment. You had done everything you could to avoid him anytime you saw him and his advances. But in this moment you felt you couldn’t. He leaned up a little more as he smiled. “You pretty lil’ speckled pup.” he mumbles before pulling you down to him in a sort of animalistic way, his lips pressing against yours and part of you wanted to fight it off, fight him off, but something about him stopped you and you returned his soft passionate kiss until you found yourself on top of him and Jodie pressed against the ground as the two of you shared a deep, long, passionate kiss and his big arms wrapped around your torso, holding you close.

You didn’t know what you were feeling for him, but whatever it was refused to let you stop and pull away. Something about the big luge drew you in and maybe even fell for him just as much as he had fallen for you. You were sure you’d regret the whole thing once it was all over.

**

I'm not sure who to tag so i'm just tagging two people who feel how I feel about Jodie, lol.

@deke-rivers-1957 @smokeymountainboy

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

colt seavers x reader fic please!!

something fluffy, him being jealous, pining, being flirty.. thanks!!

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, Anon!! Hope you like this!! I’ve really missed writing for Colt! Sorry for how long this took- my writing process is either very slow or very fast, no happy medium haha. Now, I really hope you like this interpretation- if not, feel free to send another ask!<3

Also, I ended up writing Jody out, it just made a little more sense in this story.

Other than that, still searching for a beta reader! DM if interested!!

Content Warnings: None aside from a little cursing! This is as Anon asked, very fluffy! :)

Also, this switches between the reader & Colt’s standpoint!

Enjoy! Xx

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••i

Reader’s POV

I’ve been working on my movie, ‘Dreams of Maybe,’ for about a year now. It’s to be my directorial debut, and because of that the pressure has been on. Debuts are a bit of a superstitious event for new directors: they either make or break your career, even if it’s only the getgo. Sure, some can get back on their feet if they get a second chance, and others end up making a name for themselves for solely directing god-awful movies, but I don’t have time for that. For a second chance, for none of it. This movie is a culmination of everything I’ve worked for during film school and even before, and nothing is going to deter me.

Now, despite its name, “Dreams of Maybe” is an action movie. Throughout the movie, the main character, a woman called Hyleia, wrestles with the turmoil of fighting the war her home planet, Kalythea, is engaged in. As per the title, she dreams of the “maybes” that could happen after the war-maybe settling down with the love of her life, N��era; maybe finally getting a Orundaw (this world’s version of a dog); etc. But, as a warrior, Hyleia knows that those maybes could also be poverty; her world falling back into fascism as it had been when she was young; etc.

Jenny Sikes, the writer and genius behind all of this, was still developing the ending, but I have extremely high hopes. And thus far everything’s been running smoothly. I had gone into this thinking I would have to have a stick up my ass and be “tough,” but thankfully that hadn’t had to happened.

If anything, I’m really enjoying the process. To the point that even if somehow this incredible film- sure, I’m biased, but it actually is that good- flops, the friends I’ve made and experiences I’ve had would almost make up for it. Almost because, you know, I’d be out of job. Details, details.

Aside from Jenny, who is probably my closest friend on set, I’ve also bonded with Kelly Newman and Kora Kline, the women playing Hyleia and N’era respectively; as well as man who was playing the leader of the fleet warring against Kalythea, a warmonger called Jöl. The actor’s name is Reed Smith, and contrary to his character he is one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met. And very handsome, at that- refined good looks with messily bleached hair that went with his character. He’s a proper Mr. Hollywood, minus the controversy and overall bitchiness.

My producer had also managed to get Fall Guy Stunts to sign on to the movie, which was phenomenal. Well, the producer just closed the deal. It was really our stunt coordinator, a man named Dan, who recommended the company as he’d worked with a man called Colt Seavers before, and claimed he was the best in business.

I didn’t end up meeting him until it was time for the indoor explosion. The scene itself is a red herring, a false sense of victory. Hyleia thinks she’s blown up Jöl inside of the negotiations building. Their leader was supposed to be the one to fire the bomb, but unexpectedly got shot down out of the sky and in a fit of adrenaline Hyleia detonated it from the ground, barely surviving. However, because of that she ended up having a target placed on her back by Jöl. It’s a whole thing.

Anyway, Dan and I wanted to go big on at least one stunt, and the producer suggested we do an indoor explosion- sort of a bigger, crazier one than the one in The Fifth Element.

I was a little skeptical, as indoor explosions are extremely dangerous and 100% real. Hence Colt Seavers being hired. “Best in the business,” or so says his reputation. The stunt was early in in the production and a last minute decision. At the time we didn’t think we were going to exceed what Reed could handle as far as stunts go, but we were wrong. Thankfully Colt owed Dan a favor- something about a Stallone autograph gone wrong- and the former was willing to step in as Reed’s stunt double with a 25% discount.

As it turns out, I had no reason to stress. Colt Seavers really is the best in the business, the statement was in no way hyperbolic. He literally got into the Guinness Book of World Records for it the stunt, which subsequently put our movie on the map. This was an enormous deal- the film had went from “just another sci-fi fantasy action drama” to “already on the map” within days, at least in movie buff circles.

He had managed the indoor explosion with ease, due to his own expertise and due to impeccable form. He looks like a walking action hero, and the sight alone is enough to take anyone’s breath away upon meeting him.

And if the sight’s good, the personality? He’s the sweetest, most easy-going, flirtiest man I’ve ever met with a self-deprecating sense of humor and a coffee addiction to boot. He likes plants and animals, musicals and Audrey Hepburn movies. He looks like the epitome of the action genre, and yet is actually a sweet man who is in touch with his feelings and interests. Extremely endearing if you ask me.

And sure, I might have a small crush on him. But I don’t think anything would come of it- we’ve made friends and that seems to be that.

But sometimes I do think about how nice it would be to sit at a coffee table doing puzzles with him, kissing his pink lips over the table as we go along.

But again, the magic “friends” word.

Reed thinks something will come of it, as Colt and I do spend a decent amount of time together, but honestly, I don’t know if I believe him.

Anyways, I’m currently outside of my trailer, sitting at a picnic table, in dire need of fresh air and a spark of creativity. Being outdoors has always helped me get the ideas flowing; maybe it’s the crickets and the birds. Maybe I subconsciously recognize what they’re saying and turn it into my own words. Or maybe I’m fucking freezing, because it’s the middle of winter in Canada and I’m inappropriately dressed. Who’s to say.

Although really, I should probably get my parka… the soft snow is beautiful, glimmering under the sun, but my sweater and leggings aren’t exactly cutting it.

The thing is, though all credit as far as screenplay goes to Jenny Sikes, I’ve actually been very involved in creating the story. Which means I’m also involved in helping find this elusive ending.

This stupid, needs-to-be-perfect, impossible, unattainable ending.

We’ve been spitballing ideas for the past few days now, but none of them feel right.

There’s the unexpected ending: Kalythea ends up getting destroyed by Jöl’s fleet alongside Hyleia and her lover. Sure, it would be depressing, but it’s certainly plausible given the pretext of the “negative maybes.”

Or maybe we use the too-good-to-be-true ending: Hyleia wins, gets the girl; Kalythea rebuilds itself for the better this time, doesn’t fall back into its well established patterns of fascism. That’s the most popular ending in the writers room as of now, but Jenny and I are still holding out for something better.

We owe the film something perfect. Something right. Something fitting.

We’re just running out of time to find it.

And I might be running out of time to live with how inhospitable it is out here. (Let it be known that I don’t much care for being cold.)

Just as I begin to recognize how cold I am, a comfortingly familiar voice breaks the silence. It’s low and soft, with a slight rasp to it that makes you hang on every word. And I love it.

“Y/n L/n, as I live and breathe,” Colt Seavers says by way of greeting, handing me a coffee. It’s in a (y/f/c) mug, which is honestly very endearing of him. I take it graciously in both hands, the warmth of the steam much appreciated.

“Colt Seavers, as I choke and die of hypothermia,” I say from behind the coffee, my teeth chattering.

“Aw, don’t do that,” he chuckles, his baby-blue eyes sparkling like the snow around us. He sits next to me, and I immediately feel warmer, his presence alone making me feel better.

“Why not?” I ask, turning to look at him, our legs touching.

“Cause then who would I have to talk to?”

“I dunno, Dan?” I suggest.

“Meh,” he shrugs, downing half of his own coffee. This man is an addict.

“You don’t mean that,” I gasp sarcastically.

“You’re right, I don’t,” he concedes. “Please don’t tell him,” he asks, dramatics in his voice.

“For now,” I wink, and we both share a soft laugh.

“You’re shivering- do you want my jacket?” he asks considerately, already pulling his puffy yellow jacket.

“Oh, that’s okay-,” I protest, not wanting to deprive him of warmth, but he cuts me off.

“Here, I knew you’d say that,” he smiles, handing it to me. I have to smile back at that, shaking my head at how well he knows me.

“Thanks,” I say, putting it on. It’s super warm, and it smells like him. I like it. I rest my head against his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“Nah, it’s one of my stunt-guy superpowers,” he puts his arm around me, hand grazing up and down my arm to keep me warm. I gaze up at him, mesmerized by his eyes before realizing...

“Your lips are already blue,” I observe aloud.

“It’s my lip gloss,” he jokes through chattering teeth.

“Uh huh,” I agree with skepticism.

“H-how do you still manage to look g-g-gorgeous e-even while you’re drowning in my j-jacket,” he attempts to flirt, his clattering teeth most definitely ruining the effect he was going for. And yet still he makes the butterflies in my stomach come alive, just like he always does. I like when he flirts with me, I really do. But I also think that’s just how he talks with people, y’know?

But maybe…

Colt’s POV

I am so, so glad that Dan called in that favor all those months ago.

Look, having your own stunt production is great. Fantastic, even. You get to pick your own hours, do your own jobs, etc.

But being the owner means that you just sit around for the most part, assigning your crew to the good stuff while you just wait for the next call. And honestly, it’s so, so boring.

For a normal person, that might be the dream. Finally getting to relax. But my career has been anything but normal, especially after the whole Tom Ryder incident a few years ago. The dipshit was going to frame me for murder with the help of a producer I was once close to. As far as I know they’re both going to be behind bars for a while, but I had worked for and with them for about fifteen years. Finding out that they were such bad people made those years seem worthless, as if they weren’t real.

So, before Dan called me to work on ‘Dreams of Maybe,’ I was bored. Bored and itching for the next thing. I had fallen back into my habit of picking up as many random hobbies as possible- at the time I think I was most fixated on crocheting, especially those little stuffed animals. But, being ADHD means that I can’t stick with one thing for too long- it’s why my place back home is littered with fishbowls and puzzles, paint-by-numbers and table top sports among other things. And when Dan called, I was maybe days away from finding the next thing.

At the great thanks of my house he called, and for the first time I was back in the game. He had told me that I’d be doing stunts for Reed Smith, an up and coming a-lister who’s been in a lot of action movies as of late. I really liked him in “House of Ruins,” but the stunts were a little dull for my taste. But hey, that’s what I’m here for. For some inane reason I missed getting set on fire and thrown at walls.

The indoor explosion scene ended up turning out absolutely fantastically, and because of how good it was I decided to stick around, help the film get more prestige in the action-stunt world.

Not to mention that the literal world record wasn’t too shabby in of itself.

But it’s not even just the stunts.

I’m back in the saddle, but not only am I back in it but I’m back in it with my best friend Dan. I’ve missed hanging out with him, and how much I can trust him as coordinator.

Also, y/n. She’s the director of the movie, and wow. You know in the movies, when the guy sees the girl and his entire perspective changes? That’s how I feel about y/n. She’s incredible, she’s witty, and you know what? It’s cheesy, but she’s better than the movies could ever hope to be.

We’d hit it off after the indoor explosion, and it was like we’d known each other forever. We had a habit of going to the beach (back when it was warm) or getting coffee off set pretty much everyday, and it’s been pretty awesome.

I like to bother her, because it’s hilariously adorable when she gets flustered. It’s stupid stuff- I drive a little too recklessly sometimes (like stunt driving. I wouldn’t actually put her in danger) or I’ll sneak up on her and get a little jump out of her. Sue me, it’s fun.

Not to mention the tiny detail that I am irrevocably in love with her. I don’t really know when it happened- maybe it was from day one- but she just makes me feel so alive. I’ve been trying to get the balls to tell her, but as of now I’ve come to the conclusion that I won’t say anything if she does.

I think there’s a chance she could be into me, but honestly, I don’t know. If she is, it would be fantastic. If she’s not, that’s okay too, she’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. (Don’t tell Dan)

It’s just one of those things. We just… we have these moments, where it seems like maybe we’re a little more than friends.

You know, those long looks that dip their pinky toes into longing, laughing at jokes that aren’t even funny…

Or even just the way she lays her head on my chest, like today. She’s so comfortable there, my jacket far too big on her as she looks up at me with those gorgeous (y/e/c) eyes. She’s adorable, and I’m just fine with dying of hypothermia if it means I get to look at her as I go.

Okay, I’m not going to die.

I think.

You get the point.

“You know, you’re a lot smoother when you’re not freezing to death,” she tells me. There’s a slight note of concern behind the sarcasm, something you’d only be able to catch if you’ve hung out with her long enough.

“Wh-who n-needs to be sm-smooth when th-they’re t-telling th-the truth?” I ask, the cold stopping me from getting any word longer than one syllable out properly. Real attractive, Seavers.

Hypothermic climate aside, this is how a lot of our time together is spent. Drinking coffee in random places, me trying to flirt and her retorting with her endless supply of sarcasm. I wouldn’t trade anything for it.

“Mhm, let’s get you inside, champ,” she says, standing up. Already I miss the warmth of her resting against my chest, the closeness.

Good grief, dipshit. Get it together.

But once she extends a hand for me to take I’m back in cloud-nine, happy to be touching her.

See what I mean? I think I’m losing it. Or I’m just whipped like Dan says.

She leads me back to her trailer, barely ten feet from where we had been sitting. I can’t help but sigh of relief at feeling the warm air in the trailer. She laughs and gestures for me to sit on the little forest green sofa. I comply, setting my drink on the coffee table in front of the couch. She disappear into a little nook of the place before re-emerging with a big fluffy grey blanket that she must’ve pulled from her bed.

“Here,” she tosses the fluff over me, making my heart leap. I can’t help it, it’s just the y/n-effect.

“Thanks,” I say, shivering.

She walks over to her small kitchen space, and a few minutes later comes back with two mugs. She hands me one, then sits by me. Well more like on me, because there’s a whole sofa and her were touching everywhere. She’s adorable. And I love seeing her in my jacket… man, I’m going to have to tell her at some point.

I must’ve instinctively put my arm around her shoulders, because she hums contentedly and looks up at me. “Y’wanna watch The Fifth Element? I need something to get me in an ideas mood.”

Ohh, she must’ve been out there trying to figure out the ending. That’s what she does: she thinks outdoors. She finds it easier to think.

Of course, I’ll gladly watch The Fifth Element with her. Just as I’ve gladly watched it with her 7 other times.

“Of course,” I tell her, surprised that she can’t feel the way my heart is beating out of my chest from the smile she gives me. I genuinely get a little sad when she gets up to get the remote, but when she lays back against me any trace of negativity immediately dissipates. She’s got me wrapped around her fingers.

We watch a good chunk of the movie in comfortable silence, sipping our cocoa and staying under the blankets. She never takes off my jacket, and frankly I hope she keeps it; it looks better on her anyway.

“Wait, shit, what time is it?” she asks, suddenly sitting up and almost conking my chi with the back of her head.

“Uhh,” I check my watch. “Seven, why?”

“Damnit, I was supposed to meet the crew at the bar… half an hour ago.”

“Shit, I completely forgot about that.” Dan had invited me, it was supposed to be a hangout for the main actors and the rest of the “inner circle”- ie yours truly, Dan, y/n, etc. “We can take my truck?” I offer.

“But I’m so warm?” She protests, even though she’s the one that remembered we needed to go, which again, is adorable. Just like everything about her. Just like the way she’s wrapping herself tighter in my jacket which is at least three sizes too big on her.

“Keep the jacket, and maybe we can come back here?” I suggest, attempting to entice her.

She pretends to mull it over for a second, her hand tapping on her chin. “Can we finish the movie later?”

“Yeah,” I grin.

“Okay,” she mirrors the expression, and once again I’m feeling those damned school girl butterflies. When she takes my hand in hers to help me up it’s all I can do not to pull her back and kiss her senseless. But now isn’t the time.

Come to think of it…

When is?

Reader’s POV

We’re in Colt’s truck, as usual sitting unnecessarily close to one another under the guise of how cold it is.

I love wearing his jacket, being surrounded by his comforting coffee scent and his residual warmth in the fuzz. And he’s let me keep it- even if he only meant for tonight he’s not getting it back.

I love him. So much. And I want to tell him, but I also don’t want to put my foot in my mouth, y’know. And I can’t risk our friendship, it’s just too comfortable. Too comfortable to lose.

We get to the bar, and just like always he hops out of the car and quickly runs to the passenger side to open the door for me, extending a hand to help me down. I love his insistence on being chivalrous, yet another one of his endearing qualities.

We walk into Johnny’s, the bar that the crew regularly meets at, in comfortable silence. And again, we’re standing just a little too close, and again, I don’t mind- the proximity just keeps those butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

Reed waves at me from a booth in the back corner, sitting at the end of a bench capping Dan, Kora, and Kelly who are sitting in that order.

“Glad you made it!” Reed stands to greet us, giving me a hug. Dan also stands to let Kora and Kelly out, the both of which are presumably heading home. They both say bye to me before heading out arm and arm- the press doesn’t know it yet but they, just like their fictional counterparts, are very much in love. We get seated, and somehow Colt and I are separated- he’s sitting on the inside by Dan while I’m directly across from him sitting next to Reed. The latter gets a round of shots going for the table, and before we know it we’re all laughing about practically nothing, damn near shitfaced. Except, even in my buzzed stupor I notice that Colt’s gone uncharacteristically stony… weird.

I leen into Reed’s side, laughing about a story he’s telling about how he got stuck in the harness on one of the few stunts he did. Almost ripped his underwear off too.

Now before you get any ideas, I’m don’t sit super close with just anyone. With Colt it’s because I like him, like, like him; with Reed it’s because we’re just close. Not because we’re dating or have something weird going on, it’s because we’re friends. Also, he doesn’t swing my way to begin with. Another nugget the press has yet to pick up on, for better or worse. Except this little nugget is something that hardly anyone knows- I’m probably one of five-ish.

But I don’t like how sad Colt looks right now… did I do something? I really hope not. But he’s smiling again at something Dan interjects with, so maybe I just imagined it. I don’t know. I throw back another shot, hoping the additional buzz destroys whatever downer-mood is trying to creep in right now.

But the thing is, as the night goes on he still looks sad. He only gives me one word answers and hardly acknowledges me otherwise, and it hurts a little. So I just keep throwing them back until I’m a train wreck- and not just any train wreck, an upset train wreck. I really hope I didn’t manage to fuck something up here. I’d say he thinks there’s something between me and Reed, but why would he even care if there was? I don’t think he likes me like that. I wish he did, but I just don’t know.

I think I’m ready to go home.

Colt’s POV

I wasn’t expecting her to be into Reed, but so be it, I guess… it still hurts though. I’m already planning on buying some new puzzles to cope. I’m trying not to feel hurt, but I can’t help it. Jealousy is douchey but it’s still there… ugh.

But she’s just asked me to take her home, so of course I will. She’s drunk off her ass, and I’ve never seen her like this.

I can’t help but wish it was me when I watch her peck Reed on the cheek as goodbye. I need to get it together right now. She deserves someone good for her, and I need to be happy for her. Like a good friend.

And yet, my heart still hurts.

“Colt?” she snaps me out of reality. “I don’t feel so good,” her hand is on her stomach. Shit, she’s going to throw up.

“Alright, come on,” I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her throw the mass of people and saying goodbyes for her, thankfully getting her outside just before she throws up.

“This is like 10 things I hate about you,” she comments wistfully after she’s gotten it out of her system.

“At least you don’t have a concussion,” I quip, reminiscing the movie. That one’s one of my favorites, I can quote the entire thing by heart.

“Yeah,” she looks up at me, holding my hands. I can’t help but notice that she never took off my jacket and how cute she still looks in it, even if she’s just retched up her stomach. Our gazes lock for just a moment too long, and I cough to break the silence.

“Let’s get you home,” I nod my head in the general direction of where my truck is parked.

“Okay,” she agrees, only letting go of one of my hands. I can’t help but smile at that- I didn’t take her for a clingy drunk.

We cross the moon lit parking lot over to my truck, and I all but toss her in- gently, of course- before hopping in myself and starting the engine.

“Thanks, Colt,” she whispers before I put the truck in reverse.

“Yeah, of course, y/n,” I reply, driving off.

Twenty minutes later we’re back in the trailer, and I’ve helped her onto her bed. It took her about ten minutes to get some pajamas on, but finally she’s under that grey comforter.

“Alright, I should probably go,” I say awkwardly, feeling a little shifty.

“Wait,” she says, waiting for me to turn around. “Are you mad at me?” Her voice is tinny and sad, and it about cracks my heart into a million pieces.

“No, y/n, I could never be mad at you,” I tell her honestly, walking back over towards her and kneeling at the side of the bed so my head is level with hers.

“But you looked sad at the bar,” she mumbles.

Dipshit. My face must’ve given me away- I can’t help that it comes with subtitles.

“I wasn’t sad,” I gaslight her. I was just… happy for you and Reed.”

At that she starts laughing, a sound so infectious that I can’t help but smile. “What?” I ask.

“Me and Reed?!” she slurs. “He doesn’t even swing my way… shit I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

Wait. You’re telling me that Reed’s gay? How stupid am I??

“Wait…”

“Colt, I like you,” she says, her voice the los tour together it’s been in a few hours. “Like, like you.”

Wait.

She…

She likes…

She likes me?!

It’s all I can do right now not to pump my fist and and loudly say ‘yes!’ as if I’ve won a sports championship. Any trace of sadness is completely dissipated, because y/n l/n likes-like likes- me.

“Colt?”

Oh, right, I haven’t said anything.

“Look, y/n, we can talk about this more tomorrow,” because I’m not going to influence her while she’s still drunk, “but I need you to know this: I really, really like you. And I have for a long time,” I confess, and if the smile she gave me was my last sight I’d die a beyond happy man.

“Okay,” she whispers, looking me in the eyes.

“Okay,” I tell her. “I’m going to let you get some rest, but we’re going to talk about this more tomorrow, okay?” It’s not that I want to go, but I know it’s better to given her state of mind right now. Plus, the sooner I pass out the sooner I wake up and the sooner we can talk about this.

“Okay,” she agrees.

“Goodnight, y/n,” I stand up, but before I can walk away she grabs my hand. I turn to look at her, a little confused.

“Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you maybe stay with me?” and again, her voice is too sweet to say no to. Like, I would do the indoor-explosion for free if she asked me like this.

I mull it over. I’m not a douche, I wouldn’t do anything while she’s drunk. Maybe I could just sleep on the couch?

“I can go sleep on the couch?” I suggest, parroting my thoughts.

“Noo, here, please,” she pats the bed beside her.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea right now, y/n.”

“Please?” she asks me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, fine,” I grumble, as if displeased with the notion of being able to lay next to the love of my life. But she doesn’t even seem to notice my tone as she turn around to face me laying on the bed.

“I like you,” she whispers, before promptly passing out.

I shake my head amusedly. “I like you.”

So, so much.

Reader’s POV

I wake up, expecting to have the gnarliest hangover of all time. Except, by some miracle, all that’s there is a slight headache. Thank everything.

I’m a little groggy at first, but I register a weight draped over my side. Huh?

But then I open my eyes and see Colt, with his messy hair and his peaceful face, sleeping. He’s holding me close, as if I’m some sort of teddy bear. And that’s when I remember our conversation: I told him, and he likes me back!

I smile to myself.

“Hey there, smiley,” his voice comes out groggy, heavily taunted with sleep. I love the way it sounds.

“Hey yourself,” I say, still grinning.

“What are you so happy about?” he teases.

“You. And I’d kiss you right now but I think I have bad morning breath.”

“Well,” he mumbles, getting close. “Morning breath be damned, I want to kiss you too.”

“Well, in the case…” I lean in and press a soft peck to his lips. And it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. And now I know it for sure: I’m in love.

Wait.

Love.

The movie.

“The ending!” I shout, reaching over to my phone to text Jenny.

“Wha-,” he asks, obviously confused.

“The ending of the movie. They kiss before the planet blows up.”

“Wait… the planet’s not going to blow up because we just kissed… right?” he jokes.

“I dunno,” I shrug, sending the text and throwing my phone on the chair. “Sorry. I was thinking about the planet blowing up when I thought you were upset with me yesterday, and then this-,” I kiss him again, and he smiles. “Finished the thought train.”

“Huh,” he says, pulling me close. “I like you, so much,” he says, his voice sweet.

“I like you too, so much,” I agree, kissing him again. And one things for sure: I will never get tired of kissing Colt Seavers.

I can’t wait to be able to do everything we’ve always done, just as a couple. Puzzles and paint by numbers where we kiss each other over the coffee table. Maybe he steals one of my books and tries to recreate the scenes. Maybe he kisses me after doing donuts in the truck.

But no matter what maybes come true, the thing to remember is that love is the best part of it.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the line that flashes at the end of the movie, post credits.

Who knows?

All I know is that I love Colt Seavers. And he loves me.

The End <3

[neptune-scythe]

Do you ever think about how Kaz making sure Inej is reunited with her brother is so he doesn't have to deal with his own grief?

Hear me out

Obviously he cares about Inej and wants her to have her family back and that's his main focus, or at least his main focus consciously

But here's the thing

They're mirrors of each other. Two people who lost brothers, Kaz's is gone forever ... But inej's is still out there (probably). Now we all know Kaz has never dealt with his grief, and probably barely even acknowledges it, mostly because he doesn't know how. That's not something people just ... Know how to do, grief is a process and if you don't have a single other person to help you or even be the slightest bit supportive it's going to be nearly impossible to grieve in a healthy way. Let alone being in a constant state of survival mode having to watch your back all the time because you're a kid in a very dangerous place and pretty much ever single person is an enemy, or at least not someone trustworthy or helpful. But I hella digress my bad

My point is Kaz hasn't dealt with the loss of his brother (why have I not used his name once? Bitch idfk my bad Jordie you deserve better bestie), which was a meaningless death. And by that I mean Jordie didn't sacrifice himself for some cause, he wasn't a casualty of a greater issue ... He just died. Because that what people do.

And especially for a kid who's all alone with not a single soul left on the earth who gives a damn about him, that's a pretty tricky concept to grasp. That your whole world, the most imporant person in your life could just die ... Just be completely gone in a moment. Thus why Kaz immediately blames Pekka and devotes his life to revenge, even though Pekka was only indirectly involved in Jodie's death. But blaming Pekka gives his death a meaning, it means there's something he can do to make it mean something.

Once again super digressed from my main point whoopsieeee. Hope y'all are enjoying the wild ride of my thoughts rn (I'm literally just stream of consciousness writing this shit, and for shits and giggles imma leave it that way no edits this is a first draft post you're welcome)

N E WAY

Jodie's death WAIT A SECOND HOW MANY TIMES HAS IT AUTOCORRECTED TO JODIE 💀

I'll never know because I'm not rereading this shit

Anyway

JORDIE's death meant nothing, and Kaz's revenge on Pekka didn't give it meaning either ... Which he probably knew deep down that it wouldn't. But those are the kinds of thoughts we ✨silence✨ because we need the rage for vengeance to keep us alive and doing things.

Now back to Inej and Harij.

Reuniting them will for Kaz make his own situation mean something (in my opinion don't at me these my head canon thoughts). That even though he can't bring his own brother back, he can bring back hers. And knowing that they're together will make his own grief a little easier to bear. It balances it out, if you will.

Two brothers lost, one brother found. Good math

OK BUT ALSO HAVE YOU CONSIDERED

Harij is Inej's younger brother

So consider Kaz is doing it as much for him as for Inej. He's making sure another little boy (he's obviously not a little boy anymore but like ... He was 12 ((idk how old he'd be know)) and that's plenty young) doesn't have to lose his older sibling forever.

And also consider

Kaz knows he doesn't deserve Inej, he knows he most likely won't always have her ... And more importantly she won't always have him.

He won't always be able to protect her, to keep her safe. But her brother could. Her brother could be there for her and her support her and even do a far better job (probs idk what bros personality is like but I bet Kaz Brekker is assuming shit too) than Kaz could. So by reuniting her with her brother he's making sure she's taken care of, that even if he lets her down, she'll never be alone.

Because real talk her

Y'all are allowed to have your head canons and shit I am NOT gatekeeping

But canonically Kaz Brekker is not the jealous or possessive type. If Inej wanted to leave him for someone else he'd be upset yeah but he's knows full well Inej is a living Saint and worth far more than he could ever deserve in a billion lifetimes, and he's also far more concerned with her happiness and well-being than what she can provide for him.

So he'd be satisfied being away from her, not knowing a single thing about her life, as long as he knows her brother is there with her.

He doesn't need to take care of her, he just needs to know that she is taken care of.

I rest my case

Send tweet

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk 🫡

(addition because I did actually reread it and damn I somehow forgot my entire point???

So yeah

About him using reuniting Harij and Inej as a way to avoid dealing with his grief.

It's like this

Brother dies

Kaz goes straight to revenge, never actually processes any of it, just jumps straight into making Pekka pay for it ... Which tbh is dealing with it in a sense but it's in a very passive way of going straight to doing without ever processing ... If that makes sense.

And that's repaying violence with violence, which leads to more violence. It's a cycle of destruction that Kaz is playing into, which is very hard to get out of once it starts.

But reuniting Harij and Inej is a break in that cycle. It's Kaz using his own pain as motivation and incentive to do something that will heal others. And making sure that neither Inej nor Harij get caught in the same cycle as Kaz did, it's using his own knowledge of that cycle to protect others from it. And more specifically, he doesn't know how to heal himself, he doesn't know how to move on or process and grieve, he doesn't know how to leave the cycle ... So he's helping Inej and Harij heal from their pain instead, and making sure they never enter the cycle.

Because he probably is well aware that revenge isn't the healthiest way to channel grief (but bro doesn't care because Pekka needs to be put in his place and we stan him for that), but channeling it into helping someone he loves is healthy.

And real talk here

Kaz probably believes he will never move on or heal from Jordie's death. Thus him being trapped in the ouroboros of suffering ... And go with me here.

If we view the ouroboros (snake eating its own tail if y'all don't know) as a literal scenario Kaz is trapped in, it's a mental prison basically, and one he has accepted that he will never leave. His fate is sealed, and he can't do anything to save himself from that.

BUT even if he can't ever break out of the ouroboros, he can keep others out, he can't save himself but he can save others from being trapped there as well.

And because of this he won't have to deal with the fact that he's trapped, he can focus all his energy on keeping others out ... And it gives it meaning. That even though he's trapped forever and can't do anything for himself, he can do something for other people because of it. Because the only way to avoid the ouroboros is if someone inside warns you.

That was a wild metaphor I hope that made sense lol

Also once again these are my head canons and I wrote it from Kaz's perspective so to speak, so when I say things like He cAn NEVer HeAl that's because that's what he thinks (imo) not what is objectively true. Healing is absolutely possible and bro can get it he just doesn't know it yet.)

[comfycuddles]

You know what I think...

It's time we start talking about Peter Capaldi.

When we talk about Doctor Who and our favourite modern doctors, we always go round and round in the same circles:

"David Tennant is the greatest Doctor!"

"No way! Matt Smith brought this goofy nature to the character, while maintaining the Doctor's eternal darkness!"

"Please! Nine was funny and sassy and just overall great. He deserved more credit. Eccelston was the best Doctor!"

And sometimes even a:

"I think that although she had to endure poor writing, a female Doctor was refreshing!"

I agree with this of course, and every Doctor brings something with them, you know who we don't post enough about? Or even generally talk about enough?

Peter fucking Capaldi. I seriously think he might be one of the most underrated Doctors of the modern era and It's a WASTE.

From the very beginning he was just amazing. "Do you know how to fly this thing?" ICONIC. His first episode was pure crack in the very best way. (The way he flirted with the dinosaur, anybody?)

Capaldi had this amazing connection with Jenna as Clara (Although I am a Clara stan idc so I might be a little biased about that) and their dynamic was so much fun to watch.

Not unlike David Tennant Peter is such a fan of the show. (As was confirmed by Jenna) But is also nice about it too. He doesn't go around just correcting everyone, but he wants everyone to know what an amazing show it is and wants people to love it just as much as he does.

Also 12 was so iconic??? Fighting fucking Robin Hood with a spoon? Awesome! Rolling into the middle ages on a fucking tank, calling people "Dude", making puns and dumb jokes and above else SLAYING that guitar?! Yes! A thousands times Yes! Just the best space grandpa ever!

Capaldi is so unhinged and has this chaotic energy while still appearing as the sanest person in the room. Just look up some stories about him fucking around on the set.

It was also very refreshing to see an older Doctor. I mean, I think Capaldi wad the oldest guy to play the Doctor since HARTNELL. He still had this youthful energy, but he just seemed so DONE with everyones bullshit. 12 handled things with a certain maturity that I kinda loved.

Like he has life experience, he KNOWS what his actions will cause and that's GOOD to see of the Doctor. And at the same time he's also forgiving himself for all the things he's done, which is even BETTER.

And don't even talk to me about his relationship with his companions and Missy. First of all the latter gives me life. And his relationship with Bill was so good y'all. I mean, he punched a racist in the face for her. (ICON!!!!) And were just adorable.

And my final point, the biggest point: Peter Capaldi is just an AMAZING actor. We all love "Heaven sent" and It's just the greatest episode EVER and this is party because Moffat wrote it so beautifully, but also because of Capaldi's Jaw dropping performance!!! If he wasn't SUCH an amazing actor the episode would have never worked. And I am certain of this fact. He did that y'all! HE. DID. THAT.

Capaldi gave some of the best speeches and performances in Doctor Who history. And everyone sleeps on it, and I say "No more!" Also his line. "Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?" DONE, SOBBING ON THE DAMN FLOOR. I need to say with this that I'm NOT an emotional person at all. But somehow that line hit me right in the feels and never stopped.

So yeah

Eccelston was hilarious and fun and amazing

David was awesome and I think It's definitely deserved that he goes down in history as one of the greatest Doctors.

Matt had some heartwrenging moments that I'll never get over, was as cool as bowties and just lovely

And Jody was unique and ADORABLE!

But y'all are SLEEPING on Peter Capaldi and 12 and that is SO undeserved.

Mister Capaldi Sir, if you ever see this, (You probably won't, but that's okay. I hope it does though) just know, that I love and adore you so much and think you are one of the greatest actors and human beings in the history of everything. And you DESERVE to know that. I will forever be proud to say that 12 that is my favourite Doctor of all time. And I say this without half a doubt in my mind. I'm a proud Peter Capaldi stan until the end of time. And just know that I and so many more people along with me have so much LOVE for you. (Most of us not in a creepy way though) and you are CRIMINALLY underrated.

Thank you so much for reading my rant.

This has been a Peter Capaldi/12th Doctor appreciation post. And I invite you to reblog this and show your love for the best Doctor. Only positivity though, stay nice.

[nothingunrealistic]

24, alana & jared?

24. “Should I call my lawyer?”

Alana tracks him down during lunch in a dusty corner of the library. It was, Jared will admit, a tactical error to hide out here knowing it’s her go-to study spot as well as Connor Project HQ, but his English paper won’t finish itself in the next ninety minutes, and the drama classroom at lunchtime isn’t conducive to doing one’s homework even when one isn’t on the outs with half the drama club, and they took his key to the control booth when he quit tech for the fall play. Really, he had no choice.

“Jared,” Alana says. She looks tired. Sounds like it, too. “You’ve read the emails between Evan and Connor, right?”

Has he ever. “Skimmed ‘em,” Jared says. “Three out of five stars. Great pathos, but too repetitive. ‘Dear Evan Hansen, my parents just don’t understand me.’ ‘Dear Connor Murphy, look at this tree and you’ll feel better.’ Why, is there gonna be a pop quiz?”

Alana frowns. He wonders if she’s offended by his irreverence about the emails and expects him to quote them like Torah verses. Then she pulls out a chair and sits down, slowly, and he thinks there’s a fire drill happening before realizing it’s the alarm bells going off in his head.

“Was there anything in them that didn’t make sense to you?”

Fuck. “Like what?” Jared says, then kicks himself for not just saying no, not really and ending the conversation.

“Like…” Alana digs out her phone. “The emails from June say that’s when Evan broke his arm. He and Connor talk about it a lot. But Evan still had a cast in September.”

“So?”

“Broken arms only take two months to heal on average.”

Damn Evan and his inability to stick to a story. Jared had insisted they nail down a timeline somewhere around the tenth email to avoid exactly this, but he’s had a million chances to go off-script, at the Murphys’ house or Connor Project meetings or fucking Instagram. “So he’s not average. Maybe it was a really gnarly break that took three months to heal because he fell from thirty feet up. Or maybe he has brittle bone disease.”

“Jared, this is serious.”

“Osteogenesis imperfecta is very serious. Jodi Picoult —”

“Evan didn’t have a cast in June,” Alana bursts out. “I remember. We were still in school.”

Shit, fuck, and goddamn it. “Did you even know he was alive then?”

“Of course I did. I saw him all the time. And you were with him a lot.” Oh, this is bad. This is DEFCON 5 bad. Or DEFCON 1, whichever is the worst one. “Don’t you remember?”

“Is this an interrogation? Should I call my lawyer?” He’s depleted his arsenal of deflections and distractions. Only one weapon remains: bald-faced lies. “I don’t remember when he got a cast. I didn’t write those emails. I don’t know why you’re asking me about any of this when he’s still walking around.”

“I just…” Alana, amazingly, deflates, rather than pushing back even harder. “I was thinking about all the people watching us. Putting their faith in us. Trusting us with their money. I wanted to know if anyone else was seeing what I was seeing. And I really don’t want to be wrong.”

He won’t feel bad about this. He will not. “Well —”

“But you’re right.” Alana gets up. “I should have asked Evan. I will, the next chance I get.”

“Did I say that?” Jared asks — rhetorically, it turns out; she’s already walking away, braids swishing.

He hasn’t seen Evan since homecoming, hasn’t said a word to him, hasn’t wanted to, and Evan hasn’t tried to break that silence. Should he break it to warn Evan that Alana’s finding the holes in their story — Evan’s story — and headed his way to pry it open?

Really, does Evan deserve it?

(prompts to write drabbles or longer stories)

[moonlitlex]

honestly i could write essay after essay about everything that made that finale bad. and i will. however comma i genuinely do not care about any of these characters enough to want to do that. i don't want to spend my time critiquing and analysing a show where all the characters are boring and the plot is all deus ex machina.

LIKE. WHO IS RUBY. WHO IS SHE. WHO FUCKING IS SHE.

she's done with the whole SEASON. she was in EVERY episode. and we literally don't know anything about her apart from the whole mom mystery thing which is all for the big reveal at the end anyway?

and i can talk about the ways in which that was unsatisfying and so on. but like what does that tell us about RUBY? what do we know about HER

and the answer is honestly very little. ruby is such a stock doctor who companion that it's just kind of boring. she gets a big mystery, because of fucking course she does, and who is she outside of that? nice?? sweet?? does as she's told?? (this one is fucking boring btw) kind of like the chibnall companions, she's whoever she needs to be for the situation at hand. the writers say ruby needs to be shocked by landing on a planet after 6 months of travelling with the doctor, so she is. she isn't a person. she has one desire, which is to find her mother, and the only reason she gets to have that is that rtd needs to set up whatever the fuck was going on with her mom for the finale. that's it.

and the doctor. like why should we care about this doctor specifically, outside of the fact that this is the character we have been following for the whole show? who is he??? like seriously who is he? he doesn't get any character development? what makes him different from other doctors? who the fuck is this guy????

i said earlier that ncuti's doctor is what you get when you throw all the doctors in a blender and i stand by that. he's definitely the doctor, but he's like an average of all the other doctors with nothing particularly unique or special about him. ruby is what you get when you throw all the companions in a blender. definitely a companion, with nothing unique or special about her either. much like chibnall's companions, all she gets to do is stand around and watch.

and the crucial missing factor is we don't get to see what they see in each other. which from the companion's perspective is still excusable because here's a dude with a spaceship time machine and that sounds kind of sick so lets go and travel with him is an understandable motivation. but what does he see in her? because there's always a moment where you can see the doctor sort of think, oh yeah, i should travel with this person.

but there isn't really this moment with ruby. it's kind of like with how thirteen meets her companions. she just sort of runs into them, and now they're stuck together. and ncuti does get to emote more than jodie, so at least you can see that ruby and the doctor do like each other, but their relationship isn't really fleshed out ever. and like i can buy ruby risking her life for him, because that is just sort of what happens on doctor who, but it's not based on anything. we don't see them develop this trust of each other. their relationship doesn't get developed. it just appears fully formed.

[robiniswriting]

I’m still amazed that the BBC let Chris “wrote the Cyberwoman episode of Torchwood” Chibnall anywhere near Jodie’s run, never mind putting him in charge of it

gonna be brutally honest here anon I have never seen torchwood so I cannot comment on that specifically, BUT!

chris chibnall isn’t as awful of a writer as people think. in my opinion, he was hindered by his love of classic who. he was writing for a completely different show in a completely different time, and a lot of his plot and lore decisions make more sense when you consider the classic show. not to mention his politics, many of which were stuck in the 1960s-1980s.

as a result, fans of new who didn’t like it — certain key elements of it didn’t really gel with the current show and upset their understanding of the doctor as a character.

chibnall also made the mistake of listening to fans during his first season: everyone was saying they wanted new monsters and a break from daleks and cybermen, so he had a season of totally brand-new monsters. people hated it, said the show was unrecognizable. when he wrote a few new episodes with daleks and cybermen and weeping angels, people wrote it off because they’d already made up their mind about it.

I’ll always be grateful to chibnall for pushing forward and having the first female doctor. the pushback he received for that at the time gets largely forgotten. it would have been easy to give in to the massive pressure and recast — nothing of the seasons had been filmed when jodie was initially announced — but he refused to budge and backed jodie all the way. for that, I’ll always respect him. he’s put up with a lot of shit from the fans.

that having been said, disliking chibnall’s era is so valid. even though I really enjoy thirteen’s run (she is my wife I love her dearly) I can like that era of the show and also have enough critical thinking skills to see the problems with it. I’m pretty sure i’ve said it before but the politics of the chibnall era are atrocious (see: the woman who fell to earth, rosa, arachnids in the uk, kerblam!, spyfall pt. 2, the vanquishers — feel free to ask me to elaborate on any of these) and sometimes he falls into the trap many writers do when writing women, which is to water them down a bit. thirteen is Not as weak as many people make her out to be, but there are a few moments that irk me (see: needing jack harkness to break her out of prison. I’d have been okay with it if maybe she’d managed to stall the judoon long enough to send him a distress signal or something? maybe use the sonic to get his attention? just give her a bit of agency).

anyway, long story short, chibnall’s era has issues. but nowhere near the number that people attribute to it. as for why the BBC handed the show over to him, he was extremely successful as showrunner on broadchurch, had written well-liked episodes of doctor who and been head writer at torchwood in the past, was a massive fan of the show, and vocally wanted to being some changes and mystery to the show, something fans had been clamoring for for ages. my guess is he applied for the job, interviewed like anybody else, and they decided he was the best possible candidate.

no writer is going to have no misses, especially not on a show with such demanding deadlines as doctor who, and every new showrunner is a risk the BBC have to take. at the time, it looked like he was the man for the job. sometimes, it’s all just business.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hii, I was the anon from the makeup request, the one with the bachelors

I love it! thanks for your answer, but now that I read my ask I realized I wrote it all wrong 🤡

What I wanted to ask is what you think would be their reaction if the farmer asked to put make up on them. Like, it may be something basic or some of that "turning my bf into a kpop idol" type of makeup

I hope you don't mind me asking again 😅

Ooooh, you mean that.

Of course, I don't mind writing about this scenario at all! Let's consider it a continuation of that headcanon. Thanks for the question 💕🫰

Stardew Valley:

Alex:

"Hon, why don't you ask someone else? Haley, for example?"

Alex isn't particularly happy about the very idea of make-up, thinking it's a 'girly things'.

"Honey, you sat with a face mask for two hours yesterday." "That's different!"

Still agreeing to Farmer's request.

Alex didn't like the make-up. No, Farmer did it all right, it's just the sheer feel of make-up... The athlete wants to wash it all off.

"Sorry, love, not for me."

Shane:

"Sure, why not."

Shane had already tried make-up on himself when he was in Emily's clothes therapy, so this wasn't new to him.

True, he'll grumble if the make-up takes longer than an hour.

But the results! Shane looks like a cool metal star!

The Farmer is happy with his work. Shane is happy as well.

Elliott:

Elliott sure spends a lot of time and money caring for his gorgeous hair.

Face cosmetics, on the other hand....

Sure, scrubs and face masks are in his kit too, but he's not really a fan of foundation and eyeliner.

"My soul, I just try to look naturally beautiful!" ("Nothing against the make-up itself, though.")

If Farmer wants the most minimal make-up, however, the writer will go along with it.

Sam:

"Sure, baby! Make me a rock star!"

Easier said than done, because Sam keeps fidgeting as Farmer tries to apply his rock band make-up.

"That tickles!" "Sam, don't move!"

Very pleased with his cool make-up.

Sam will take a hundred selfies of himself and Farmer and brag about how talented his partner is and how cool he is.

Will wear make-up all the time (until Jodi makes him wash it off).

Sebastian:

As I said earlier, Sebastian uses eyeliner (I'll fight with everyone for that headcanon).

So he'll always be happy to have Farmer help him.

Sebby hasn't really tried the other facial cosmetics, but he won't refuse Farmer when they ask.

Stands as steadfast as a statue.

Super ultra emo make-up done! Everyone's happy.

Harvey:

"Oh, no, darling. I shouldn't."

In fact, Harvey had once considered it to disguise skin imperfections on his face.

However, the finicky doctor would take a long time to go through the cosmetics.

"How, in the Yoba's name, do they even sell these things? They're bad for the skin. And this foundation has been the cause of allergies in many of my patients!"

To be honest, Harvey would be more against make-up than for it. His skin health is more important to him.

Stardew Valley Expanded:

Magnus Rasmodius:

Heh. Good luck to them, with his thick beard....

"Should I shave it off-" "No."

Magnus finds it unnecessary, so he politely declines the idea.

"Then how do you know the instant make-up spell?" "A talented wizard is talented at everything."

Farmer can try to do his make-up in his sleep, but if he wakes up, Farmer will levitate the rest of the night.

Victor:

On the one hand, Victor does not consider make-up as something important for him.

On the other hand, the Farmer looks at him with puppy eyes...

"Well, okay..." A rather strange feeling for him. But the result amazed him.

Victor looks quite fresh now, and yet the make-up is unnoticeable. It's like it's not even there!

"Okay, I take it back, honey. It was a good idea."

Lance:

Oh, Lance does care about his appearance, that's undeniable. But he devotes more time to his hair and scrubs than to his facial cosmetics.

The adventurer will politely decline heavy makeup. Especially - in this heat on Ginger Island.

However, if it's something as inconspicuous and light as possible, he'll let the Farmer work on his face.

"Why do you need a makeup spell then?" "A talented wizard is talented at everything, my love."

We've heard that somewhere before...