#i liked the movie but if I could write it … there would be changes

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

i miss you (Park Jihyo x Reader)

Angst with happy ending , smut

Was going to post this yesterday but I got sick again (or well I got worse after I felt better) but here we are! That being said I wrote this in a sick ish blur so if it’s not good I’m so sorry it was a fever dream writing it.

Your girlfriend Jihyo wasn’t always distant, even with her busy schedule of performances and recordings she still found a way to make time for you, more time than she had probably but then her solo debut came around and that changed.

Missed texts, calls, dinners, pretty much everything was met with a “I’m sorry baby, practice is running late”. She left the house before you woke up, and got home after you were in bed most days, though she was attentive and caring the few times you see each other, constant affection as usual.

Tonight was no different than the last how ever many, it was seven in the evening and you had cooked dinner for the two of you as she had promised she would be home in time and she was so stressed, it’s the least you can do for the love of your life.

Of course you trusted her words when she said she’d be on time, even if that was the naive thing to do, but now she was an hour late than she agreed to and you were sat on your couch drinking the wine that was meant for dinner. Then you get a phone call.

*Incoming call*

Hyo❤️‍🔥

You sit up fast, placing your wine glass on the coffee table before answering.

“Hyo, is everything okay?” You answer, “where are you?”

“Hey baby.” She starts, you can tell it’s not good news from her tone, the way she putting fake happiness in her voice.

“You’re not coming, are you?”, Disappointments laced every one of your words.

“I’m sorry love, they want to extend rehearsal for a couple hours.” You can hear the guilt seeping into her apology, “I have to stay since it’s you know my song, so I’ll have to miss dinner and I’ll be back late.”

You let out an amused huff, figures, how could you think tonight was any different than usual.

“Right.” You pause, looking at the made dinner on the table that is now cold and her wine glass that is still full, a couple candles scattered around, flowers sitting in the center waiting to be gifted to Jihyo,tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’m really sor-“

“It’s fine. Really.” Your voice breaks slightly, almost unnoticeable except for the fact that Jihyo knows every little thing about you especially when you’re not okay.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Jihyo it’s okay, I’ll see you later.”

She knew it wasn’t okay, from your shaky voice to the fact that you called her “Jihyo” instead of “Hyo” or some other sweet pet name but she decided not to push while in front her band members.

“Okay, I love you-“

Jihyo can barely get the words out before you hang up, teary eyed glancing once again at the set dinner table with full plates, the sink with dishes from your couple hours of cooking.

Deciding to leave everything where it is, you head back to the couch and pick the wine glass up once again, sitting there until your girlfriend got home which was about three hours later.

You hear the door unlock and close, her keys being thrown onto the table by the door, and her heavy bag hitting the floor before she walks into the living room you’re in. She finds you sitting, watching some movie or more so dissociating while staring at the screen, empty wine glass in hand with the bottle on the table not empty but close to it.

“Baby..” she says, it’s quiet like she’s scared.

You don’t answer you just look at her, eyes watery and red from crying, tears stained your shirt.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.”

No answer again.

“Let me make it up to you.”

The only noise you make is a little chuckle, a familiar promise of her making it up to you that she has been making for weeks but never followed through.

“Did you eat?” She asks, quieter than before if possible.

“Does it look like I did?” You bitterly ask while waving your hand at the dinner table in the other room.

Jihyo’s eyes follow your hand, seeing the full untouched plates with a full wine glass, then she see the flowers and candles which causes her eyes to fill with guilty tears.

“Oh..” it comes out as a choked whisper, “I’m so sorry.” She finally walks over to you, getting on her knees in front of you and placing her hands on your knees, “I really wanted to be here, but rehearsal-“

She can’t finish her sentence before you’re pushing her hands off of you and standing up to go into the dining room.

“Can you stop making excuses Jihyo?” It comes out louder than expected, as you speak you start picking up the plates to throw the food away but she puts a hand on your wrist before you can get to the trash can.

“Don’t throw it out.”

“Really? You’re going to eat the dinner I made 5 hours ago? now?”

“Maybe, if it makes you feel better.” Jihyo can feel herself getting irritated after the long day of rehearsal, she knows she shouldn’t be seeing as she’s the one hurting you.

“I don’t think it will.” Before you throw the plates in the trash, admittedly harder than necessary, the both of them shattering when they land.

“Hey! can we just talk? Instead of throwing things” she says exasperated at the new angry behavior of yours.

“Jihyo, I’ve been wanting to talk. For weeks. And you were nowhere to be found.”

“I’ve been here every night.”

“Yeah when I’m already asleep. And then you leave before I even wake up. When should I talk to you during those times? Huh?”

“Baby you know how my job is, the schedules-“

“Yeah i do. And I know i agreed to dealing with it but… I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

“You do know me, I’m the same person as I’ve always been.”

“No, Jihyo, you’re not.” A pause. “When’s the last time we went on a date?” Tears filled your eyes again.

“I-I don’t know, a week ago?” She stuttered, taken aback by the sudden questioning.

“3. 3 weeks ago. When’s the last time you ate a dinner I made you while it was still hot?”

“I- I don’t know.” She looks at the ground in shame.

“Exactly.” You try walking to the door.

“W-“

“No. I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.” Turning back to face her.

“Please, baby. Let’s talk about this.” She goes to grab your hands which you quickly pull away as you walk in the other direction, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Go ahead. You have 5 minutes.”

“Wh- are you serious? 5 minutes?“ The shock leaves her face as she sees the serious look on your face, “I know I’ve been distant, and truly I am so sorry. I know my job isn’t an excuse but you have to understand I can’t exactly say no to staying longer or canceling schedules.”

“That’s not ev- the problem is that when you don’t have a schedule you’re nowhere to be found.”

“Because I’m tired, y/n. It’s exhausting sometimes to do what I do.”

“Too tired for me?”

“That’s not what i meant.”

There’s silence as you look as her, contemplating your next words.

“Maybe we should break up.”

“Wh- what? N-no.” Panic fills Jihyo as you speak, nausea taking over her body.

“Hyo, I don’t know if I can do this anymore, barely seeing you when you have a comeback and when you don’t, you’re on tour.”

“But-“

“You’re losing me Jihyo. You being gone all the time, it hurts. I just want you to be around more but you can’t do that.”

“I’ll do better. I’ll make them cancel some rehearsal days, bring you on tour with me, anything. I mean I’ll even take a hiatus.”

“You’d do that?”

“If it meant keeping you.” She was genuine, in all the years you’d known her you had grown to distinguish when she wasn’t being truthful, “Please, give me another chance.” She grabs your hands, this time slowly but you don’t pull away this time which ignites a hope in Jihyo.

“Fine. Maybe not a hiatus but-“

She cuts you off with a kiss, hands going to your face, it was soft and sweet, her love being translated through it.

“I love you.” Her eyes staring into yours, hands still on your cheeks, “I’ll do better. As a matter of fact, I’m going take tomorrow off.”

“Can you even do that?” You ask shocked, but a smile returns to your face.

“I mean, I am the idol, what are they gonna do without me? And they can’t fire me, I’m too valuable.”

You push her away playfully at the last part but she’s quick to grab your hands and pull you into her.

“How can i make it up to you?”

“Well, in general a lot, but just tonight? You can start by doing the dishes and then maybe joining me in the bedroom?” Your eyes are mischievous and suggestive as you look at her.

“Can’t we just skip to the bedroom part?” She pouts as she looks at the dishes in the sink and on the stove from the day.

“If you don’t do them, there will be no bedroom part.” You answer as she push her off you and towards the sink.

“Come onnnn”

You keep walking as she pouts heading to your shared room, deciding on skin care and changing to waste the time.

As you’re standing in front of your dresser, only wearing a pair of sweatpants, a voice from behind you appears.

“I think putting on clothes is kinda pointless.” Jihyo rasps out, as you meet her eyes in the mirror on your dresser they’re dark with blown pupils and staring directly at your bare chest.

“I have eyes you know.” At which she shifts her gaze up to make eye contact, a playful smirk on her face. But you do slide your sweatpants off onto the floor causing your girlfriend to smile.

“And I love those too.” She says walking behind you to wrap her arms around your waist, head on your shoulder with her mouth next to your ear, “but.. I’ve just missed touching you so much.” You feel her lips press into your neck and leaving a few marks as her hands glide up to squeeze your chest, fingers pinching your nipples, lips moving down to your shoulder before making eye contact with you, “Why don’t you go lay down for me pretty girl?” A soft dominance wafting off of her, you of course follow her orders immediately laying on the bed and spreading your legs slightly to show the growing wet spot on your underwear. Jihyo just stands at the end of the bed, staring at you with her lower lip between her teeth, eyes slowly moving from your face down your body almost lost in the sight of you, a minute passes before you speak.

“…Hyo?”

“Hm.”

“Are you going to stop staring and join me or?”

A blush spreads across her face before a smirk takes over.

“Sorry for admiring my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend.” She teases as she finally gets on the bed and climbs up to hover over you, hers eyes shining with love and once again staring you down as she studied your face for the millionth time in your relationship. You try interrupting her stares by leaning in to kiss her but she playfully pulls away, “I’m not done looking.” A hand goes to rest on your cheek.

“Hyo, I love you so much, but if you don’t touch me after today then I’m making you sleep outside.”

“Going to kick me out of my own house that I pay for?” She smiles but that goes away when she sees the quirk of your eyebrow that tells her you’re dead serious, causing her to capture your lips in a passionate kiss her tongue swiping at your lips begging to be let in which you part your lips letting her tangle her tongue with yours before pulling away and biting your bottom lip bring it with her before letting it go saliva still connecting you and looking at you, eyes darker than before.

She moves her lips to your jaw leaving light kisses, moving to your neck where she starts leaving marks. One hand squeezing your thigh, the other sliding from your hip to your chest.

“Hyo.” You whimper out.

“I know baby, let me take care of you.”

The kisses and marks move down to your collarbones and chest, she wraps her lips around your nipple while her hand attended the other one. After your chest is littered in purple marks and little bites her hand goes to your underwear feeling the wetness and rubbing you through the fabric making you gasp and rut up into her.

“So needy. You’re so wet baby, miss me that bad?”

“Please.”

Her kissing continues down your stomach until she reaches the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly making sure to leave a feathery kiss on every inch of new skin that showed, worshiping your body with her loving kisses. Reaching your knees she finally pulls your underwear all the way down and throws them to the floor, returning to her original place her face hovering over yours and you can feel the light touch of her lips on yours as she speaks again.

“I’m going to use my fingers first so I can see how much you missed me, okay?”

“Whatever you want.”

Her hand that rested on your thigh moved to your center, rubbing small circles at first. Small whimpers come out of your mouth as you close your eyes, truthfully you hadn’t really had sex that wasn’t a quickie in a green room for a performance in weeks so even her light touch had you close to finishing.

“Wait.” You say which causes her to stop and worry, “You know, you’re fully clothed…”

“Uh huh..” she says a smile on her lips, her fingers going back to making small circles on your clit now that she knows you’re not uncomfortable.

“And I am not. I don’t think that’s fair.” You can barely talk as she moves her fingers, but you get out the words even if they’re shaky. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason you wanted her clothes off is because you loved the sight of your nail marks and scratches on her back the next morning, you would trace them with your fingers as she laid down or in the shower.

Jihyo makes a show of sitting up on her heels and pulling her baggy shirt over her head, too slowly you think, her abs showing from her countless hours of rehearsals and her earlier workout. Then she unclips her bra and takes it off just as slowly, she leaves her sweatpants on though as she settles herself back, two fingers immediately going back to where they were but soon slid down to enter you agonizingly slow and were unmoving when fully inside, her thumb working circles on your clit.

“Don’t tease” Your voice is breathless and almost a whimper as you look at her heavy lidded eyes, “please.”

“Anything you want baby.” Her fingers move inside you as she speaks, the pace going from 0-100 almost instantly, after all she did promise to make up for her behavior so who was she to deny you, your playful threat of leaving her in the driveway for the night for not listening to you still present in her mind.

“Fuck.”

“Feel good pretty girl?” Her lips brush on your ear, and her warm breath causes shivers down your spine.

“So good.” It’s more of a whine than actual words.

The feeling of her fingers inside of you is dizzying, vision a bit blurred, all of your thoughts consumed by her.

“You’re doing so good. Taking my fingers so well.”

The words alone makes you tighten around her, wetness dripping onto the sheet below. You thought you were already close but then she angles her fingers up just right and it feels like you’re on fire, you hands grip her back nails digging into her skin dragging down to her waist where you pull her closer to you if possible.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go baby. You deserve it.” She whispers before kissing you but pulls away as you reach your orgasm, she just can’t miss the noises you make for her.

Your vision is white as you reach your peak, back arching off the bed and into your girlfriend’s chest, nails digging into her skin again as you moan loud enough for the whole world to hear. Jihyo’s fingers don’t stop moving inside you until you whine and put your hand on her wrist. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until she speaks again.

“Breathe baby.” A light chuckle falling from her lips while she strokes your cheek with her thumb, “are you okay?”

“More than okay.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Actually I think you might have to do a redo on that apology.”

“Oh yeah?” Jihyo’s eyes shined as she looked down at you

“Mm.”

“I think I can do that.” Before she retreats underneath the blanket with her head between your thighs.

She ended up apologizing about 3 more times that night before you were satisfied, but Jihyo didn’t mind as long as she had her girl.

[inawickedlittletown]

Who Could Ask You Be Unbroken Or Be Brave Again - BuckTommy (one-shot)

Summary: When Buck figures out that he's pregnant just a few weeks after the break-up, he has to tell Tommy. They talk. Words: 3.1k Notes: Sooooo I actually started writing this last week and I pictured a different fic entirely and yet I like to go where the journey takes me so here we are. Mpreg is a feature, but not like the most important part of this fic, though I know the fandom has taken it and run with it. The title comes from Hozier's To Noise Making Read on Ao3

-

If it weren’t for Maddie, Buck probably wouldn’t have figured it out. Well, he would have eventually. Probably. 

When he was on the cusp of teenagehood, the nurse at school had come in to have a talk with his class. The boys and the girls were separated and Buck remembered watching a badly shot movie. She had passed out a paper to take home at the end, information for their parents. Buck didn’t remember if his parents had even bothered to read it, much less take the advice. As a consequence, when all the rest of the boys in his class got tested, Buck didn’t. Later on, it just didn’t matter because Buck wasn’t having sex with guys so what difference did it make if he was a carrier? Then, when he got together with Tommy, it hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

So, he never knew that he could get pregnant. 

Not until he was pregnant. 

Not until he was leaning over his toilet, knees on the hard floor, stomach empty. Not until he remembered Maddie and the brie he’d baked for her and how when he’d cut a piece of the banana bread earlier the smell of the bananas had made him feel sick. 

Not until he managed to make it out of the apartment and to the nearest pharmacy where he stared at the pregnancy tests until finally just grabbing four at random. He was glad the girl at the checkout didn’t say anything. 

They all came back positive. 

There was no denying it.

In the bathroom, he took off his t-shirt and looked down at his abdomen. There was nothing different about his body, but eventually it would change. He would round out, growing a life in the womb that Buck hadn’t even known he had. Tentatively, he touched his stomach. In that moment he realized that he hadn’t even thought about it before already knowing that he was doing it. He would have the baby. He was going to be a dad. 

Tommy had left him — had left them. 

He was the other dad. 

Buck had to throw up.

Pregnant. He was pregnant. He was housing life, a life created out of him and Tommy…Tommy was gone. He had walked out of Buck’s life without a look back and Buck was once again the one that was left behind except that this time it wasn’t only him. His hand drifted to his abdomen. There was a baby in there. 

That was when the tears began anew. 

What the hell was he going to do?

Buck had cried for the better part of an hour after Tommy left. Then, he cried on Eddie’s couch and couldn’t even get the words out for why. 

“He dumped me,” he’d said eventually. “Tommy dumped me.” 

Then, the tears had started again. 

He cried when he got home the next morning and immediately he had to talk himself out of calling Tommy. 

Eddie had told him to stay busy and keep his mind off of it. To not reach out to Tommy. 

So, he focused on making himself dinner that night and after the lasagna was in the oven, he decided he may as well go out and eat all his feelings. Not to mention that he really wanted brownies. 

So, he found an outlet. Baking was better than crying. It was better than having to hide his phone from himself so that by the time he found it he’d be over the urge to call or text. 

Buck had almost convinced himself that he could keep going and that he wouldn’t cry over Tommy again, but he was crying again. Over Tommy. Over the break up. Over the tiny life that should have brought so much joy to both of them. Not that Buck wasn’t happy…not that the idea of being a dad didn’t excite him. It was just the timing and the circumstances. Tommy wasn’t there with him and Buck…

He needed to tell him. 

Tommy needed to know. 

Or maybe…maybe Buck could do it on his own. He could love this baby more than enough. Tommy had already made his choice on Buck, why would he come back just because Buck was pregnant. Buck wasn’t enough for him, the future that Buck wanted and that Buck had dangled in front of himself had been shot down without his say and this was not going to change anything, not if Tommy had thought their six months together was some fun and nothing further than that. 

A baby was…it was a big commitment. Eighteen years at least and it wasn’t about Buck, but the idea that Tommy might not react well to the news…

But, no, that was unfair. Tommy would at least feel the obligation to his child even if it was detached, even if it was just monetary. He would do right by the baby even if they weren’t together anymore. That…that hurt. It was like a stab right to the chest. This was not the way it was supposed to be. 

He sobbed, wiped at his eyes but the tears kept coming. Maybe he didn’t tell him. Maybe he didn’t find out how Tommy would react and…

But no. 

If it was the other way around and Tommy found out he was pregnant and didn’t tell Buck, Buck would never forgive him. He had to tell him. 

Wiping at the last of his tears, Buck went to the kitchen to grab water. 

Four positive tests. He needed to get a doctor’s appointment to confirm and then prenatal vitamins? What else? Was his apartment even an okay place in which to raise a baby? With the stairs and the balcony and how his bedroom wasn’t even really a room. And then there was his job. How long could he keep working before it was too dangerous? Was it already dangerous? 

Buck thought about calling Maddie. She was pregnant herself and she could help but the thought of telling her and not Tommy. Of telling anyone but Tommy…

He had to tell him. Buck reached for his phone. 

He couldn’t tell him over the phone and the thought of Tommy not picking up his call or leaving him on read or…what if he’d blocked Buck’s number? But no…Tommy wouldn’t do that. 

It was a Tuesday and Tommy didn’t usually work on Tuesdays. Unless he’d changed things…unless he’d been called into a fire. It didn’t mean he’d be at home, but it couldn’t hurt to try. 

So, he got shoes on, stuffed his phone and wallet in his pocket and grabbed his keys. Grabbed a few loaves out of his fridge for good measure. The remaining brownie pan too. 

Buck almost talked himself out of it on the drive over, but then he was pulling into Tommy’s driveway behind his truck. He waited a few more minutes before he got out of the car and started walking to the door. He raised his hand and knocked. 

Tommy had given him a key. It was still sitting next to the keys to his apartment. If this went badly, he supposed that he could give the key back. It would really be over, not that it hadn’t before. It was just that a part of Buck had hoped that if given enough time they might find each other again. It was silly and maybe it spoke to how many romcoms he and Tommy had watched together. Now…now he was pregnant and it changed everything. 

He knocked again. 

Heard movement from inside and then the door opened. 

Tommy looked like he hadn’t slept in days. 

“Buck,” he said. 

Buck decided to ignore that. “We need to talk,” he said. 

“I — yeah, sure.” 

Tommy stepped aside and Buck followed him in. 

“Do you…do you want a drink?” Tommy asked. 

The awkward energy between them killed him. It had never been like this between them before…okay, maybe after Buck messed up their first date, but even then it hadn’t been this. Buck shook his head. 

“What is all that?” 

“Oh. I, uh, I started baking and…anyway, these are for you.” 

Tommy took them and walked them into the kitchen. Buck followed. Nothing had changed since he’d been there last and the thought it might have and that Tommy could have moved on or something. Three weeks…it had really only been three weeks long as that felt. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Tommy asked, not even looking at Buck. 

How did he say it? Did he just blurt it out? On the drive over nothing had come to mind and Buck had never not known how to just say things except this time it was…it was so much harder. 

“Ev—Buck?” 

“I — I’m…I have some news.” 

“News?” 

The words got caught in his throat.

“Buck, is everything alright?” 

“I’m going to…pregnant. Maddie’s pregnant.” 

“Oh.” Tommy said with a confused chuckle. “You’re becoming an uncle again.” 

And a dad. 

Buck gulped. “Yeah. I am.” 

Tommy still looked confused. 

“I found out by accident. They don’t want anyone to know, but I had to tell someone. Don’t say anything.”

“Is that all?” Tommy asked, cautiously. 

Buck wanted to shake his head and to tell him it wasn’t only Maddie. It was Buck too. 

“We never talked about kids,” he found himself saying instead. “Among other things, but I never asked if you wanted kids. Do you?” 

It felt pointed. It felt like Buck was giving himself away. Tommy seemed a little confused. 

“Uh…I don’t know,” he settled on. “Never thought I would have any, but it’s not like I don’t like children. I guess I never really thought it was a real option or a deal breaker. Why are we talking about kids?”

“I’m…I don’t know. Just a thought,” Buck said. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”

“You want family,” Tommy said. “You'll get another niece or nephew soon.”

“Yeah,” Buck breathed and it took everything in him not to touch his stomach. Not just a niece or nephew, a son or daughter. Tommy’s too. 

“Did you…was there anything else?” Tommy asked. 

“I — that is—”

“Evan?” Tommy said. “You’re…are you alright?” 

He took a breath. “It doesn’t have to change anything,” he said. “I know you don’t want it to. You made that pretty clear. This isn’t like me trapping you or anything. I’m not. I just know that if it were the other way around I’d want to know and I’d want you to tell me. And no one else knows because you should be the first to know even though you kinda broke my heart there and that’s not going away. You know my fridge is full of loaves. I needed an outlet and so I started baking and I can’t seem to stop. I’m—”

“Evan, take a breath,” Tommy said. 

Buck did. He took several and when he looked at Tommy again, he found concern in his gaze. 

“What’s going on?” 

“I’m…well, as it turns out, I’m—” he couldn’t get the words out. 

“Are you sick? What’s happening? Evan, are you alright?” 

Tommy’s hand reached out to him, but fell short and drew back. 

“I’m not sick,” Buck said. “That’s not…I mean, that’s not what I would call this. I’m…Tommy, I’m pregnant.” 

Once the words were out, he felt lighter. His hand had drifted back down over his abdomen. Still flat, but for how long? When would he start showing? Hell, Buck didn’t even know how far along he was or anything else. 

Tommy was staring at his hand and then his eyes flickered back to Buck’s face. 

“Pregnant,” Tommy said. 

Buck nodded. 

“You’re a carrier. You never said.” 

“Yeah…I didn’t know until…until now.”

Tommy inhaled a breath and Buck could see that his mind was spinning, that he maybe didn’t even know what to say or think and Buck…Buck needed to leave. He’d told him, it was what he’d come to do and that was it. 

“I just wanted you to know. No obligation. No expectations. Just…that’s what’s happening. I’m pregnant and I’m going to keep it.” 

Tommy didn’t say anything. 

“I guess now you know. I’ll…I’ll go. See you around, Tommy.” 

Buck made it to the door. He was turning the doorknob and trying to pretend that his eyes weren’t filling up with tears when he heard a gentle:

“Wait.” 

And then Tommy’s hand was on his wrist and Buck turned. 

Tommy’s hand left his wrist but then he was cradling Buck’s face, thumbs wiping away his tears. 

“I was scared,” Tommy said. 

“Scared? You? But that’s, what is there for you to be scared of? I’m the pregnant one.”  

Tommy’s hands dropped from his face. “That,” he said. “You think I can’t be scared in this?” He motioned between them. “That it didn’t freak me out the moment you asked me to move in with you in the same sentence that you said you liked me for my confidence without even—”

Buck watched him. Watched the way that his shoulders were hunched and how he gulped. 

“You don’t see me, Evan, and if you don’t see me…the real me and not whoever you’ve made me out to be then this was never going to work. The moment I realized it wasn’t…that it wasn’t. I did this for you and for me. And now—” Tommy’s gaze met Buck’s dead on, “now you’re pregnant.” 

“I don’t see you?” Buck asked. 

He stepped away from the door. He laughed and turned away from Tommy before he looked back at him. 

“I see what you’ve let me see,” Buck said. “I see who you presented yourself to be and if you’re telling me now that you were lying about who you are then…then that’s—”

“It’s not what I’m saying,” Tommy broke in. “I’m saying you put me on some…on some pedestal that I don’t belong on. I’ve hurt people. Abby. Hen. Chim. Hid my sexuality to my own detriment and the detriment of others. I lied and lied and lied and…and it’s—”

Buck reached for him, grabbed his hand and made Tommy look at him. “You did it because you were protecting yourself from a world that wasn’t going to accept you. What I admire is how far you’ve come. What I admire is that you lived through it got to this side of it and can choose to be happy. Except that you don’t think you deserve it. I see you, Tommy.”

“Evan,” Tommy said. 

Buck grasped Tommy’s other hand. 

“Did you know I hate the way you leave your clothes in piles instead of putting them in your hamper, the way that you always forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste. You never close a cabinet. Some of your jokes are not funny and it shouldn’t have taken six months for you to tell me about Abby. I guess I’m to blame for that too because I didn’t tell you about her either. I hate how you never talked about Gerrard with me, not really. I hate the way you always take Eddie’s side and that the two of you always make fun of me. The first sign of trouble and you run. You’re not perfect, Thomas. But you know what, I love you anyway.”

The silence that fell between them lasted a few beats. They couldn’t look away from each other and there were tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes. 

“You scare me,” Tommy said, voice rough. “And I’ve been kicking myself since that night but I didn’t know…I couldn’t call or text because I walked away and I thought it was for the best. I’m broken, Evan, and if you ever saw that and didn’t — didn’t—” Tommy’s voice broke. 

“I love you,” Buck said. “And you’re not broken, because if you are then I am too.” 

Tommy actually let out a sob and his face crumpled. Buck had never seen him like that. He’d seen him worried and smiling and confused. He’d seen the way that his lips turned down that night when they broke up, but he’d never seen this. The way that the wrinkles around his eyes were deepened and his mouth was so turned down and how red it made his skin. 

Buck reached for him, pulled Tommy’s face down to his neck. He rubbed at his back and then ran a hand through his hair and Tommy sobbed and wet his shoulder with his tears and Buck held him and cried his own tears. It felt amazing to actually have Tommy in his arms, though the rest of it…the tears and the sobs was new. 

There was no knowing how long they stood there, until Tommy pulled back, wiping at his face with one hand. He didn’t go far, though Buck could tell that maybe he wanted to. When he finally looked at Buck, he looked a little more put together. 

“You’re pregnant,” he said. 

Tommy’s hand fell to Buck’s abdomen. There was nothing to feel there yet. They both knew that, but Buck put his hand over Tommy’s. 

“I am,” Buck said. “It doesn’t have to change anything.” 

Tommy let out a strangled laugh. “It’s going to change some things. Evan, you’re going to be the best dad.” 

“So are you,” Buck said and inhaled. “Right? I mean, you don’t have to be if you don’t—”

“I want to be,” Tommy said. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, it’s not like I had a great example. What I do know is that I am so in love with you and there is no way I’m letting you do this on your own. No way that I am walking away from you or this baby.”

Buck kissed him and Tommy responded at once, hungrily and like he was hoping to impart upon Buck every bit of his love through that kiss. 

They probably had a lot more to talk about. So much to figure out about them and about the baby. Buck could see more tears and more arguments, but if there was one thing that he could count on, it was that they would make it through it. They’d made it through this break up already any other hurdles or hardships could be dealt with. 

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 42

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy Folks,

guess who's back! I don't know if I'm back to doing these consistently, but I have a hell of a list for y'all. Tags and summaries provided by the author, commentary provided by yours truly.

Mindfuck - Dave one shot by @whatsnewalycat

He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. So you did. And you do. Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays.

Hypnotism, hypnosis-kink, Imperfect Praxis of Hypnosis, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Praise Kink, Smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, Dom Dave, Mindfuck

One of the weirdest things I've ever read, but also one of the best. I was super into this. Mindfucking is WILD.... I'd read more of this universe in a heartbeat

Bittersweet Love - Dieter one shot by @ozarkthedog

Dieter is in recovery from drug addiction, the disease that cost him you. This is his first premiere after getting clean and his first one without you.

angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic.

This is such a sweet fic? That might be a weird way to describe it. I just love Dieter getting his shit together and all the good coming his way because of it.

Starlet - Dieter one shot by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Your husband has a big movie premiere, sure he looks great, but his co-star looks even better.

PWP, threesome, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), lesbian fun, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, addiction talk, sober Dieter, Kit Kats, I wrote this for the bi girls.

This fic is a dream, seriously. I want a hot movie star husband to bring pretty movie star women into my bed please and thank you.

Pas de Deux - Din series by @burntheedges

When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

This is one of the few modern Din AUs I've read, as I tend not to like them, but I can't recommend this enough. I was drawn in by the summary and hooked by the first chapter!

Never Let Me Go - Ezra one shot by @yopossum

Loving, reverent domestic smut with sweet, submissive Ezra.

SMUT; no plot that’s it just porn but with FEELINGS; sub!Ezra; established relationship; super duper in love; domestic fluff; comfort; gratuitous pet names; praise kink; body worship; body hair; grinding; breast and nipple play; teasing/edging if you squint; light bondage; riding; PIV; no condom (there’s come y’all); religious language and imagery as literary device; Ezra the human thesaurus; prose gettin purple; making grown men whine and cry; reader is not gendered, has breasts and a vulva/vagina, is described as having puffed nipples and dimpled thighs, can straddle Ezra, but no coloring, size, appearance, age, or ability is otherwise noted; Ezra is an amputee and healed and we love it (no gore or trauma or background re: his arm); but I did write this because I was watching Prospect without actually watching and was inspired by *~*those sounds*~* out of context tho; Beatrice is not reader’s name, just a nerdy Dante reference; I stole this title from Florence Welch; old person on tumblr; is this spacing wack?; not a beta in sight; 18+ only no minors

SUBMISSIVE EZRA!!! I loved this. Such a gorgeous fic.

Stick Buddies - Frankie series by @auteurdelabre

You and Frankie find yourselves in a complicated situation when invited to Benny's wedding for a week in Mexico. Despite your strained friendship, you both pretend to be a couple to save Frankie embarrassment when seeing his recently engaged ex wife. However as you navigate through this charade, old feelings and unresolved issues resurface.

friends to enemies, angst, fake relationship, bickering, there's only one bed, destination weddings, enemies to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, revealed secrets, mutual pining, smut, HEA, so many fucking tropes.

friends to enemies to lovers??? Sign me the fuck up.

Where You Left Me - Frankie one shot by @chaotic-mystery

You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

This shit made me cry in the best way. Please read this.

One of Your Girls - Frankie one shot by @pedropeach

unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk)

Circle Jerk, Sub!Frankie, Bukkake, Facials, Cumplay, Cum Swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), Praise Kink, Pet Names, Dirty Talk, oral (m receiving), Deepthroating, Cock Worship, Use of restraints, Sexy Photographs, Sharing, brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf, frankie x all the guys individually, this includes tom but he's not part of the circle jerk, sry tom

Really was not expecting this to be as tender and soft and sweet as it is considering it's one of the more filthy things I've ever read. Absolutely love it.

I'll Carry You - Javi P series by @almostfoxglove

You reunite with your childhood best friend when he arrives home from Colombia. Javier's sudden return to your life exhumes buried heartbreak, but he longs to set things right.

Eventual smut. Reference to canon-typical violence, injury, and the death of a parent. Plenty of alcohol consumption, yearning, and angst. YEARNING!!!

The yearning is exquisite. The fic is exquisite. I'm in love with this fic

Remorse for Remedy - Joel series by @pedgito

Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

early outbreak, canon typical violence, morally grey!joel, smut (warnings given with each chapters), exploration of kinks, enemies to lovers, age gap (early 20s/mid 30s), unhealthy coping mechanisms, detailed warning with each chapter

I haven't ever read a series about Joel immediately post outbreak, which is wild. It's always raider!joel or qz!joel or jackson!joel. I love this new perspective and I'm so excited to read more.

Biology - Joel one shot by @endlessthxxghts

Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship.

Well slap me silly and call me an uncle fucker because this fic was amazing. (they're not really related don't. look. at. ME.)

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

After the death of his daughter, Joel Miller fell apart. But when searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle and within his own rage doesn't fix it, he resigns himself to working for his brother in private security. It's a job that starts him down the path to stability and a semblance of a life, even if it's not one he particularly wants. At least it does until you show up. The biggest movie star in the world with your newly adopted niece in tow, you throw everything about Joel's life into flux. Is he capable of letting himself feel something again while protecting the only things left in the world that matter?

Protective Joel, Ellie & Joel Bonding, Joel is Bad at Feelings, POV Joel, Joel Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

So pumped for a new Kit fic. Super into bodyguard Joel. The angst right out the gate is so beautifully painful, I just know I'm gonna cry once a chapter at least. (i've only read one chapter, so I have some catching up to do!)

Professor's Pet - Joel one shot by @chaotic-mystery

Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n

I cannot begin to explain how hot him helping her practice is. And then the smut.... I need a shower

Call It What It Is - Joel one shot by @joelsgreys

A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

JACKSON ERA JOEL. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel.

We love overprotective Joel in this house

The Guard Dog - Pero Tovar one shot by @avastrasposts

Sent to your uncle's bleak castle in the north of England, you expect only a dreary existence until you meet his groundskeeper, a scarred, frightening Spaniard. But love in the Victorian era is not easy and life doesn't follow straight paths.

this is mainly all fluff with a bit of angst. Some of that casual racism and predjudice of the period rears its ugly head though. I've tried to keep the reader as blank as possible, but it's Victorian England and she's a lady so I have to presume she doesn't speak Spanish and has fair skin. No use of y/n.

This was so beautiful. I love the setting, I love the characterization, I love the story

Bloody Kisses - Tim Rockford/Dio series by @perotovar

shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

takes place in the early 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, hurtful names (fairy boy, faggot, queer as a slur, etc), a gay porn magazine, lots of references to peter steele of type o negative (and his playgirl issue), male masturbation, acab, angst, protected p in a, fingering, excessive amounts of lube

I started reading this a while ago, but I never added it to the spreadsheet. I'm in love with how soft Tim is with Dio UgH

In the shadows of others, we grow - Tim Rockford/Dave York series by @sin-djarin

What happens when you put two different areas of law enforcement in the same room a few times a year to atone for their 'sins'? You find common ground and figure it out. Together.

M/M, Established D/s dynamics, each chapter contains individual warnings.

This pairing?? Obsessed. The feelings?!?!? Give me 14 more fics in this universe PLEASE

An End to Drought - Javi P one shot by @almostfoxglove

The future of your family's homestead hangs in the balance as Javier Peña comes home in the middle of a drought.

Javier Peña Smut, Soft Javier Peña, Sweet Javier Peña, Javier Peña Has a Big Dick, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Neighbors,Javier might be a god? who knows!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Creampie, Sex, Vaginal Sex, unprotected piv, Freyr, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Post Season 3

I'm obsessed with the way the challenge was interpreted. Is Javi a god? We don't know... but he sure fucks like one.

Some shit I wrote:

Make it Hurt - Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader - sparring + pain kink

Morning Ride - Logan Howlett x f!reader - soft morning sex

You're So Dark - Dave York x f!reader - prof!Dave x student!Reader

[rocksibblingsau]

The TBT got me thinking about the movie's writing again, so here's some thoughts. Clay being the only one to get an on-screen apologize doesn't make any sense narrative wise.

When you look exclusively at what's implicitly canon (so no 'he was at the tree that whole time' headcanons, even if they make some sense), Clay is the least in need of apologizing compared to the other three. Bruce is slightly more in need of apologizing than him because he was the second eldest and second to leave, but this point is not about him, it's about how it should have been either JD or Floyd (ideally it would be all of them apologizing actually, but again, not about that rn)

John Dory is practically the main force behind the movie's plot and emotional conflict, so we're talking about him first. John Dory in the movies, well, he kinda sucks a lot of ass. During the Brozone days, he was very bossy, overbearing, lowkey emotional/verbally abusive and the first to leave them all while being the oldest and implied to be their only caretaker outside of their elderly grandma. And even though some people give Clay and Bruce shit for how they behaved towards JD during the Rhonda fight scene, they were RIGHT, he was being bossy and a dick during that scene, and while all the bros were at fault about how they treated Branch during it, he was also the worst of them (like he was the only one who not only denied they would stay together after saving Floyd, but also actually made fun of Branch for even thinking so). And that is without mentioning how he got the the three of them trapped later in the film in the stupidest way possible.

This is NOT to say that he is some kinda of unredeemable abusive monster, no, even if its not said out loud in the movie, its left pretty implicit that he had his reasons for acting the way he did and that he was under a lot of stress himself running the band and caring for his 4 younger brothers while likely being a kid himself during the Brozone days. BUT, after all that, it feels so strange to have the time for one singular apologize apparently and to not give it to HIM of all people. He giving Branch the lead during the Family Harmony is the only thing he does that implies he changed his way after ALL of that, even Venner gets more redeemable qualities than that!

It just makes his storyline feel incomplete honestly, like the movie only bothers to drop slight hints that this man doesn't completely suck and then turns around and both doesn't build up further on those hints AND doesn't make him do anything to redeem himself with Branch and any of his other brothers.

And if for whatever reason it wasn't going to be John, why not Floyd??? I don't even care that much that we don't get a reason for why Floyd never went back, its kinda even implied that he never intended to come back and was just trying to comfort Branch by lying, but again, if you're going to set aside time for one-on-one apologizes after everything is set and done, why not use it for tying up one of the main story points set in the begging of the movie.

Is like they even forgot that they set up Floyd promising to come back and never doing so, because as far as I remember (could be wrong tho), after the introduction, Branch only refers to Floyd as "the only one who said goodbye". With for Branch's character makes sense really, but for the narrative feels plain unsatisfactory. It sets time aside to set up out loud that something was supposed to happen and it never did (crucially affecting the trajectory of the main character's life) and it just... never brought up again. No excuse, no Im sorry for that actually, no anything. Instead we get Clay, which in the movie, has no special relationship or plotline with Branch compared to the rest whatsoever, being the one that gets to have on-screen closure. Why?????

In conclusion, the movie could have an 100% better script and tighter emotional conclusion if they had just let the writers have two even ONE extra rewrites. But not, instead we get two plotlines that likely will never get resolved because got forbid this franchise actually has a proper continuity between films yippeeeeee

(Im truly sorry for this ramble, I just have too many thoughts and too little friends that even know what Trolls are, and by too little I do mean actual zero. Hope you enjoyed it at least, if not, Im sorry again)

I agree that Clay was the one Troll who had a good reason he never got to go back and visit or anything. It was definitely weird that he was the only one who apologized for never getting to see Branch grow up, but I think it says a lot about his character that he did.

[thisismeracing]

hi bby can u make a mick imagine w him dating a laos/thai girl like u did for korean one 🫶🫶

I just never see my culture and background on here I would appreciate

Hi, love! <3 I went predominantly with Laotian girl for this one, hope you don't mind. <3 I hope you like it! Let me know if you do

MICK DATING A LAO GIRL | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to Laos and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’tforget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Mick loves adventures, and his eyes will glow the second you start telling him about all the hiking spots;

He loves to hear you explain your country's history, so it's not uncommon for him to randomly lie down with his head on your lap and ask you about marriage, economy, politics, and so on works there, all while you scratch his head and play with his hair;

Will suggest nonstop you guys take a hot air balloon ride in Van Vieng;

Before you meet your family you spend two days on Don Det Island and you can imagine Mick's reaction when you explain that bicycles were the only transport there - of course, he rented you guys one, and agreed to go back next year because the sunset there was unmatched;

You'll celebrate New Year's Eve with his family in Switzerland, and he'll celebrate the Water Festival in April with you and your family in your Lao home;

Mick is a curious guy and learning to play the guitar, so he'll definitely get interested in the khong vong going as far as asking a family member of yours to teach him;

He loves the way the Lao people use vegetables, herbs, and spices i the cuisine, and you guys will have tons of cooking dates. It's very relaxing and you get to remember your childhood and heritage;

Since Mick is not vegan or has allergies, his golden rule is: try first, ask second. That's how he ends up eating grasshoppers one day - he actually liked it, and then of course his athlete side-kicked in and you started talking about how a few insects had more proteins than chickens or cows and how this influenced climate change;

Conversations with Mick were always free of judgment. You could go from politics to the next Disney movie you wanted to watch;

He will post about Lao and will suggest you guys backpack around the continent once you're on vacation (he got curious about Thailand after you told a few curiosities about the country);

Loved to meet your family, and the elders absolutely adored him as well - he's a sweetheart after all;

Pretty much becomes a Lao honorary citizen as well;

Will suggest you guys vacation there whenever possible because according to him there's always something new to learn;

Pretty much in love with you and everything you are that includes, of course, your country and history.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to me <3 *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘  ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[qveenpoppy]

things i noticed in my pilot rewatch:

wolf almost immediately grabs a glass of champagne when he walks into the wedding with his first patient. i know the show's hinted at him having drug issues, but maybe he has some alcohol ones too? (unless that idea was abandoned since the pilot was written/filmed.)

"except now we're prescribing drugs instead of taking them." "speak for yourself." yeah he's definitely still dealing with those drug issues. i feel like the show's mostly implied for that to be a past thing (we've only seen him take anything twice, to my memory? not counting 1x09's upcoming flashback sequence) but i wonder if/when that'll become an issue again (maybe another patient loss that hurts wolf harder than roman's did? like a father figure, that'll bring back his feelings of guilt over his dad's death?)

it's tiny but i feel like van's crush is hinted at here, with him offering ericka an extra pair of scrubs (while jacob cockily jokes about his being too big for her) and the way he sneaks a glance at her while she changes (not in a creepy way, it's like a nervous/shy kinda way).

he also smiles at her when she yells at jacob while they're searching for hannah's childhood home, after jacob un-empathetically says the kids would be better off with their dad (guess van likes strong women; girlboss/malewife vibes? lol)

"do i ever have to talk to him again?" (wolf talking about nichols.) lmao, you're gonna be in love with him in about 6 episodes from now. also someone write me some pilot era wolfnichols hate sex.

"name one person you like who's not a patient." "you, i like you!" he's so autism-coded ❤️

wolf still uses cassette tapes in his car (which is also quite old, since it still plays tapes), what a grandpa

carol has a picture with michelle obama in her office (not really an important thing to notice, but i thought it was cool)

there's a line in one of the flashbacks (apologies for not quoting it verbatim) from muriel about "keeping our differences to ourselves", which probably explains why wolf isn't super open about his facial blindness. (and probably applies to all of his other traits that make him "different", like his sexuality, or popularly headcanon'd autism. i mean, i know he's open about his sexuality now as an adult, perhaps as a way of rebelling against his mom, but, as we may see in more flashbacks, he probably kept it to himself for quite a while.)

van is completely frozen when hannah has her seizure, he even backs up a little when she falls out of her chair. probably didn't wanna touch her and experience a phantom seizure.

whoever directed the ep made zach & teddy look like they're the same height when nichols confronts wolf and kicks him off the case. i guess it keeps them, literally and figuratively, on the same level in the dispute. but now we all know that wolf's actually shorter, and it's funny how that's been primarily highlighted when they're fooling around with each other. (i know it's an intentional directing tactic, though, bc a similar thing was done in the batman v superman movie when bruce and clark stand eye to eye - henry cavill is also 3 inches shorter than ben affleck. emphasizing the height difference would imply a power imbalance, which you don't want in these sort of gray zone conflicts!)

"the only way this will work is if we open up to each other." [nichols walks by and catches wolf's eye] foreshadowing

(i don't mean just like foreshadowing their romance, but maybe also the impact that nichols will have on wolf, getting him to open up about his past and whatnot. same, perhaps, for nichols, since we still hardly know anything about his background, besides his military experience and implied own closeting.)

(could also quite easily and literally refer to their work relationship, as we learned from that interview with teddy that, despite their romantic connection, they're still going to have some disputes about patient treatments in future episodes/cases.)

[muiitoloko]

Would you ever write something about Alan's character Alfred Blalock?

Title: The Color of Courage

Summary: Set against the backdrop of systemic racism, a surgeon and his nurse must decide if their growing affection can overcome the world's prejudice.

Paring: Alfred Blalock × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Racism and Discrimination.

Author Notes: I hope you enjoy this—I put together something quick for you!

Also read on Ao3

You stand in the small preparation room just off the operating theater, the scent of antiseptic sharp in the air. The sterile gown in your hands feels smooth but sturdy, the material crisp and cool. Alfred Blalock is speaking as you carefully help him into it, his voice low and steady, his tone a mix of focus and anticipation.

"The case is a challenging one," he says, his hazel eyes flicking up briefly to meet yours through the silver frames of his glasses. "The patient is only six, with severe cyanosis. The team is ready, but there's always an element of the unknown."

You nod, your hands deftly tying the ropes at the back of the gown. "You’ve faced harder surgeries before, Dr. Blalock," you reply softly, your voice calm but firm. "You always find a way."

Alfred’s lips twitch, almost forming a smile, though his usual solemnity remains. “Perhaps,” he murmurs, his tone thoughtful. “But each new case carries its own weight. We’re not just saving lives, [Your Name]; we’re changing what’s possible.”

His words resonate with you, and you glance up at him, your own determination reflected in his hazel eyes. “It’s why you do this,” you say, looping another tie carefully. “To push boundaries, to find answers where others see none.”

Alfred nods slowly, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his face in the dim light. “Yes,” he says, his baritone voice softer now. “Though I wonder if ambition blinds me sometimes.”

You pause, your hands stilling for a moment. “It’s not ambition if it’s for the right reasons,” you reply, your gaze steady. “And your reasons, Dr. Blalock, are noble.”

He looks at you for a long moment, as though weighing your words. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he glances away, adjusting his glasses. “You always seem to know the right thing to say,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I envy that.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips, but you don’t respond. Instead, you move to tie the final set of strings at his waist. His voice, when it comes again, is quieter, almost hesitant.

“[Your Name],” he begins, and you hear a shift in his tone—something less clinical, more personal. “Have you ever been to the movies?”

The question catches you off guard, and your fingers falter slightly before completing the knot. “The movies?” you repeat, looking up at him with a curious expression.

He nods, his hazel eyes searching yours. “Yes. Moving pictures. Have you ever seen one?”

You hesitate, sensing the weight behind the question. “Once,” you admit, your voice low. “But it wasn’t… easy. Most theaters don’t exactly welcome people like me.”

Alfred’s face tightens, the light silver in his hair catching as he tilts his head. “That’s wrong,” he says firmly, his baritone voice carrying an edge of frustration. “Unjust. You deserve better than that.”

You smile faintly, though there’s a sadness behind it. “It’s the world we live in, Dr. Blalock. I’ve learned to make peace with it.”

Alfred steps back slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “You shouldn’t have to,” he replies, his voice softer now. “The things you endure… I don’t—” He stops, seemingly unsure how to continue. “I wish it were different.”

Your heart tightens at his words, at the sincerity in his hazel eyes. “It means something to hear you say that,” you say quietly. “But the world doesn’t change overnight.”

“No,” he agrees, his expression pensive. “But perhaps it can change, piece by piece. And maybe… I could take you to the movies sometime. If you’d like.”

You blink, caught completely off guard by the offer. “You’d do that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his face solemn but earnest. “Yes, [Your Name]. I would.”

For a moment, the room feels still, the air heavy with unspoken truths. Then, with a small, tentative smile, you nod. “I think I’d like that,” you say softly.

Alfred’s lips twitch again, almost forming a full smile this time. “Good,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses once more. “Then it’s settled.”

The moment lingers between you before he clears his throat, his professional demeanor returning. “Shall we?” he asks, gesturing toward the door that leads to the operating theater.

You nod, stepping back and straightening your own gown. “Let’s save a life, Dr. Blalock.”

He meets your gaze one last time, something unspoken passing between you, before turning and pushing open the door. And as you follow him into the bright lights and controlled chaos of the operating room, you feel a quiet hope take root—a hope for a world where moments like these might one day be easier.

The air was crisp as Alfred Blalock stood beside you outside the movie theater, his hands resting awkwardly in the pockets of his neatly pressed trousers. The warm glow of the marquee lights bathed his face, highlighting the faint silver streaks in his hair and the sharp angles of his hooked nose. He looked down at you through the silver rims of his glasses, a flicker of nervousness in his hazel eyes as he adjusted them.

“Are you sure about this, Dr. Blalock?” you asked quietly, your voice carrying both doubt and a hint of resignation. “We don’t have to do this. There are… other ways to spend the evening.”

Alfred shook his head, his expression firm. “I made you a promise, [Your Name],” he said, his baritone voice steady but soft. “And I intend to keep it.”

You hesitated, the weight of what you were about to face pressing heavily on your chest. This wasn’t new to you—it never was—but the thought of Alfred seeing it, of him experiencing even a fraction of the humiliation you endured daily, made you uneasy.

“Dr. Blalock…” you began again, but he stopped you with a gentle but determined look.

“Alfred,” he corrected, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I think we’re past titles, don’t you?”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at his attempt to ease your discomfort. “Alfred,” you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange, intimate, but you nodded. “If you say so.”

The two of you approached the ticket counter, Alfred stepping up confidently while you lingered slightly behind, your arms folded across your chest. The attendant, a wiry man with a weathered face, barely looked up as Alfred handed over money for two tickets.

“One, sir,” the attendant said curtly, pushing back a single ticket.

Alfred frowned, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he glanced at the ticket, then back at the man. “I asked for two,” he said evenly, his baritone voice carrying an edge.

The attendant finally looked up, his eyes shifting past Alfred to you. His lip curled slightly, his gaze hardening. “We don’t serve her kind here,” he said bluntly, his voice low but unapologetic. “Negroes don’t get in.”

The words hit you like a blow, though you weren’t surprised. You had heard them—or variations of them—countless times before. You stood a little straighter, your face carefully neutral, as you stepped forward and placed a hand on Alfred’s arm.

“Alfred,” you said softly, “it’s fine. Really.”

But Alfred’s hazel eyes blazed with a quiet fury as he turned back to the attendant. “It’s not fine,” he said, his voice sharp and unyielding. “She’s with me, and I’d like two tickets.”

The attendant leaned against the counter, his gaze unflinching. “Ain’t gonna happen, sir,” he drawled. “You can go in, but she stays out. That’s the policy.”

You tightened your grip on Alfred’s arm, your voice low and steady. “Alfred, please. Let’s just go.”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening as he glared at the attendant. “This is absurd,” he said, his baritone voice filled with frustration. “She’s a nurse, a professional, a human being. How can you justify—”

“Alfred,” you interrupted gently, stepping closer to him. “It’s not worth it.”

He turned to you, his expression softening slightly, though the fire in his eyes remained. “It is worth it,” he said quietly. “You’re worth it.”

The words made your breath catch, but you shook your head, offering him a small, sad smile. “This is the world we live in,” you said softly. “You can’t change it by arguing with one man.”

For a long moment, Alfred stared at you, his hazel eyes searching yours. Then, with a deep sigh, he nodded, stepping back from the counter. “Fine,” he said, his voice tight. “But this isn’t over.”

The two of you turned and walked away, leaving the warm glow of the marquee behind. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heated tension of the encounter, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

Finally, Alfred broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low, his head bowed slightly. “I should have known… I should have done better.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him. “It’s not your fault,” you said firmly. “You didn’t make the rules.”

“No,” he agreed, looking up at you, his hazel eyes filled with guilt. “But I didn’t stop them either.”

The raw honesty in his voice made your chest tighten. You reached out, resting a hand on his arm. “You’re trying,” you said softly. “And that means something.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint, rueful smile, he said, “I still owe you a night out.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Alfred, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one evening.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded, his smirk growing. “But next time, we’ll find a place that deserves you.”

The warmth in his words sent a flicker of hope through you, and as you walked together into the night, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the world could change—one step at a time.

The quiet night stretched before you as you walked alongside Alfred Blalock, his sharp profile illuminated by the dim streetlights. You noticed the stiffness in his posture, the way his hands remained tucked deep in the pockets of his tailored trousers. The tension from the earlier confrontation still lingered between you, a stark reminder of the barriers the world insisted on maintaining.

You broke the silence tentatively, your voice soft. “There’s a place we could go… if you’re willing.”

Alfred glanced at you, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly behind his silver-rimmed glasses. “Go where?” he asked, his baritone voice cautious but not dismissive.”

“To my community,” you replied, hesitating before continuing. “There’s a restaurant there—nothing fancy, but they serve good food. And…” You trailed off, glancing at him briefly before looking away. “It’s a place I know we’d be welcome.”

Alfred stopped walking, and you turned to face him, his expression unreadable. His pause made your stomach twist, and you quickly filled the silence. “It’s fine if you’re uncomfortable,” you said, your tone faltering slightly. “I understand if you wouldn’t want to be in—”

“I’m not worried about being in your community,” Alfred interrupted, his voice sharp with conviction. His hazel eyes searched yours intently, and you saw a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—cross his features. “I’m more concerned about… well, would they even let me in?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. “What?”

Alfred adjusted his glasses, his hooked nose flaring slightly as he explained. “A white man in a place like that—won’t it cause… complications? I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”

For a moment, you were stunned into silence. Then, despite yourself, you felt the corners of your mouth twitch as a laugh threatened to escape. You quickly swallowed it down, reminding yourself that this was Alfred Blalock, your boss, and a man unused to navigating such situations.

“They’ll accept you,” you said gently, your voice tinged with amusement. “Some folks might look at you a little funny, but no one will make a fuss. At least… I don’t think they will.”

Alfred studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought. Finally, he nodded, his expression resolute. “Alright,” he said, his baritone voice steady. “Lead the way.”

You guided him through the quiet streets toward a small, unassuming restaurant tucked into the heart of your community. Its modest exterior was bathed in the warm glow of light spilling from its windows, and the faint sound of jazz drifted into the night. The sign above the door read Maggie’s Kitchen in faded letters, and the smell of collard greens, cornbread, and fried chicken made your stomach rumble.

As you stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. Conversations hushed briefly as heads turned toward the two of you, and you felt Alfred stiffen beside you. The room was filled with the hum of community life—families sharing meals, couples laughing softly, men playing cards at a corner table. The majority of the patrons were Black, as you’d expected, and Alfred’s presence was immediately noticeable.

Maggie, the owner, a stout woman with a warm smile and sharp eyes, emerged from behind the counter. She wiped her hands on her apron, her gaze flicking to Alfred before landing on you. “Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” she said, her voice teasing but kind. “And you brought company.”

You smiled, stepping forward. “Good evening, Miss Maggie. This is Dr. Blalock.”

Maggie’s eyes appraised Alfred for a moment before she nodded, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Doctor, huh? Well, welcome to my kitchen.” She gestured toward a corner table. “You two take a seat. I’ll bring you something good.”

Alfred inclined his head politely. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, his baritone voice softer than usual.

As you sat down, the faint buzz of conversation resumed, though you noticed a few lingering glances in Alfred’s direction. He seemed unbothered, his hazel eyes scanning the room with quiet curiosity.

“This place,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “It feels… different.”

You tilted your head, watching him. “Different how?”

He adjusted his glasses, his expression thoughtful. “It’s warm. Alive. There’s a sense of… belonging here. It’s something I’ve rarely felt.”

His words surprised you, and you studied him for a moment before replying. “It’s home,” you said simply.

Alfred nodded slowly, his gaze meeting yours. “I can see why.”

Maggie returned with two steaming plates of food, setting them down with a flourish. “Here you go,” she said, placing a hand on her hip. “Don’t waste a single bite. I’ll be watching.”

You laughed softly. “Thank you, Miss Maggie.”

As Maggie walked away, Alfred picked up his fork, examining the plate in front of him with an almost clinical curiosity. “I’ve never had cornbread like this,” he admitted, his hazel eyes glinting with intrigue.

“Then you’re in for a treat,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “Go on. Try it.”

Alfred took a cautious bite, his expression shifting as the flavors hit his palate. He nodded appreciatively. “It’s excellent,” he said simply.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his understated reaction. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Alfred.”

He glanced at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “And you’ve been full of them since the day we met.”

The warmth in his voice made your cheeks flush, and you quickly turned your attention to your plate. But as the two of you shared the meal, the initial tension faded, replaced by a quiet camaraderie. For the first time, it felt as though the barriers between your worlds were not so insurmountable after all.

The night passed quickly, the quiet hum of conversation between you and Alfred Blalock weaving an unexpected sense of intimacy. Over cornbread and collard greens, he shared glimpses of his life—his childhood in Georgia, his years in medical school, and his dreams of pushing the boundaries of what medicine could achieve.

You found yourself laughing at his dry humor, at the way he hesitated before confessing he had no idea how to cook anything beyond toast and eggs. He was a handsome man, his hazel eyes warm behind his silver-rimmed glasses, his hair catching the light when he tilted his head to listen to you speak. But you tried not to let the thought linger, knowing the reality of your worlds—a white man and a Black woman, especially in 1930s Nashville. No one would ever accept that.

Still, for a few hours, you allowed yourself to forget. In this little pocket of the world, with Alfred sitting across from you and the comforting buzz of the restaurant around you, things felt almost… normal.

When the meal was over, Alfred insisted on walking you home, his gentlemanly manners firm despite your protests that you were perfectly capable of making it on your own.

“It’s late,” he said simply, his baritone voice leaving no room for argument. “And I’d feel better knowing you got home safely.”

You sighed but relented, leading the way through the quiet streets. The conversation flowed easily, touching on lighter topics—books you enjoyed, music he found perplexing but intriguing, and your mutual disdain for overly sweet desserts. The walk seemed shorter than usual, and before you knew it, you were standing on your front stoop, the soft glow of the porch light illuminating his face.

“Well,” you said, turning to face him, “thank you, Dr.—I mean, Alfred. For the dinner. And the company.”

His lips quirked into a faint smile, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling. “The pleasure was mine, [Your Name]. Thank you for introducing me to Miss Maggie’s. I’m afraid my cooking will seem even worse by comparison now.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Somehow, I think you’ll manage.”

Alfred hesitated for a moment, his gaze holding yours as though he wanted to say something more. But instead, he inclined his head slightly and stepped back. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice gentle. “Take care.”

“Goodnight, Alfred,” you replied, opening the door. You lingered for a moment, watching as he waited at the foot of the steps, his posture stiff and proper, until you finally stepped inside.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you leaned against it for a brief moment, your mind swirling with the unexpected warmth of the evening. But the sound of footsteps rushing down the hallway snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Who was that white man?” your cousin demanded, her hands on her hips as she stopped in front of you. Her eyebrows were raised so high they practically disappeared into her headscarf. “And don’t tell me he’s selling insurance—he looks too fancy for that.”

You sighed, slipping off your coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. “He’s not selling insurance, Clara.”

Clara narrowed her eyes, stepping closer. “Then who is he? The police? Did you do something? Should I be worried?”

“Clara, no,” you said, exasperated. “He’s not the police. He’s a doctor. My boss, actually.”

Her mouth fell open, and then she leaned back, crossing her arms. “Your boss? What’s he doing walking you home, then? Doctors don’t just walk their nurses home. Especially not white doctors walking Black nurses.”

“It’s not like that,” you insisted, though your voice faltered slightly. “He’s… he’s just kind. That’s all.”

Clara gave you a long, skeptical look, and then her lips curved into a teasing grin. “Kind, huh? Kind enough to walk all the way to this side of town at night? Kind enough to look at you like you’re a plate of fried chicken and he’s been starving?”

“Clara!” you hissed, heat rushing to your cheeks as you glared at her.

She laughed, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “What? I’m just saying. He’s got that look about him. Like he’s trying to figure out how to get himself a little chocolate on the side.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding the question,” Clara shot back, smirking. “So? Is he?”

“Is he what?” you asked, exasperated.

“Trying to get chocolate,” she said bluntly, wiggling her eyebrows.

You groaned again, pushing past her toward the kitchen. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Clara followed, still grinning. “You don’t have to. I already know the answer. You’re blushing, and he was standing outside like he didn’t want to leave. That man is hooked on you, and you’re just pretending not to notice.”

You busied yourself making tea, refusing to meet her gaze. “He’s my boss, Clara. And he’s white. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Clara leaned against the counter, her grin softening slightly. “Maybe not. But you’re allowed to dream a little, you know. Just because the world’s broken doesn’t mean your heart has to be.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you glanced at her, your expression softening. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” she said, her voice quieter now. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t hope.”

You sighed, pouring the tea and handing her a cup. “I’ll think about it.”

Clara smirked, taking a sip. “You do that. And in the meantime, if he shows up here again, I’m asking him straight out what his intentions are.”

You groaned, laughing despite yourself. “Please don’t.”

“No promises,” she replied, her grin returning. “No promises at all.”

[hermits-crab]

FLUFF ALPHABET W/ ELLIOTT — STARDEW VALLEY

SUMMARY: The Fluff Alphabet by @snk-warriors!

CONTAINS: sfw, gn! reader, fluff, established relationship, spoilers for his 10 & 14 heart event

NOTES: I haven’t known what types of headcanons to post so I’m hoping this might inspire me. I’m taking requests, by the way, if you’d like to help a girl out! Enjoy!

A = Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Elliott loves cooking and baking with his spouse! Even if you’re not great at it, he’s happy to teach you! As long as it’s edible, he’s happy and proud of what you made together. That phrase “a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” applies to him specifically.

B = Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

It’s so hard for him to narrow it down but if he has to, it’s your generosity and strength. He could watch you do farm work for hours (and he has) and he loves that you’re so giving and that you don’t think twice about it.

C = Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Elliott is at your side immediately, asking how and/or what he can do to help. If you ask for a minute alone, for example, he’s preparing your favorite snack and movie or show. Or maybe a bath or shower, later reading you to sleep. He’s doing whatever he can to help you!

D = Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He dreams of the typical white-picket fence dream: marriage, kids, growing old with you. More than that, he wants to take care of you, to protect you, to provide for you. As long as he knows he can do that for you, he can die happy.

E = Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I can see this going both ways. I feel like if you’re a woman or very feminine presenting, he’s more likely to take on a dominating role. Subconsciously, he feels like his role as a man if to protect his wife.

F = Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Yes, without a doubt, yes. Even if you hurt him deeply, he’s already forgiven you long before. To quote James Fraser from Outlander because I feel like Elliott would think the same: "She asked forgiveness, and I gave it. But the truth is, I'd forgiven everything she'd done and everything she could do long before that day. For me, that was no choice. That was falling in love."

G = Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He’s eternally grateful for everything you do. For him and for the community. You save him from dying a lonely hermit on the beach! For that, he feels he owes you everything.

H = Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He’s very open and honest! I don’t think he intentionally keeps secrets. Like with the piano, you didn’t know he could play so beautifully and he would probably not have brought it up unless you found him playing. Or if it didn’t come up in conversation, he probably won’t mention it. Except it’s something actually important, then you can trust he’ll tell you. But in that case, it probably wouldn’t be a secret.

I = Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You’re his muse! You inspire him every single day. You helped him to write his book. He runs a lot of things by you because he knows that you’ll give him kind constructive criticism.

J = Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

I don’t think he gets jealous easily. He gets jealous like the average person. When he does, however, he becomes passively aggressive. If he notices someone flirting with you, he’ll politely remove you from them and gently scold you. He might be a little petty so you’re probably going to have to apologize a bit more than you normally would.

K = Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

YUP. He’s a romantic and very in tune with his partner and what they like. Your first kiss with him was magical. He wasn’t clumsy or too rough. It was sweet and gentle.

L = Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

On a shabby little row boat out at sea!

M = Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes! He feels it’s the natural next step to your relationship. He proposes to you on the beach while the sun sets. Your marriage would be pretty low-key but never lacking. Especially in the bedroom. You both are happy and content with your quiet lives on the farm. Whenever Elliott goes on a book tour, he brings you along, considering it a vacation.

N = Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Darling, love, dear, sweetheart, beautiful. He called you darling, love, and dear before but when you started dating, he added ‘my’ in front of it.

O = On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Elliott is pretty animated already but even more so when he’s in love. He’s much happier and carries himself more confidently (if you can believe it). I don’t think it’s obvious to anyone but his friends. Leah, for example, notices it almost immediately. He expresses his feelings through writing in his “secret book” of poems expressing his love for you or your likeness captured through a character in one of his books.

P = PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Yes, he’s very proud to be yours! He doesn’t necessarily brag but he talks about you whenever he’s given the chance. He’s not shy about physical PDA either. Of course, nothing inappropriate but definitely touching you in some way or kissing you. He’s not in the least bit shy!

Q = Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Elliott is a very smooth talker. He almost always knows exactly what to say. And I know that would otherwise be a red flag but he does stumble over his words frequently too! He never wants to risk loosing you, especially over something that’s his fault.

R = Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s extremely romantic! He’ll happily help you around the farm and later take care of you when you come home: making dinner, bathing you, massaging you. He also loves reciting poetry to you whenever you’ll listen.

S = Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

You can count on him for any sort of support you need and he’ll gladly help you work towards your goal(s). He has always believed in you.

T = Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He doesn’t feel like it’s a necessity. He likes adventure on occasion but he’s also very happy and content with your daily routine.

U = Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He’s very empathetic towards you. He’s good at remembering details about you too, regardless of how insignificant it may seem. He remembers what you like and don’t like, things you’ve mentioned that you want, or little stories from your past.

V = Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He values your relationship the most out of everything he has! He’ll always put you (and your shared family) first. He loves you more than writing and reading—and that’s saying a lot.

W = Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Elliott absolutely hates when people touch his hair. But you’re the only exception. Even though he may tense up a bit at first, he eventually melts into your touch. He trusts you with his life, and more than that, his hair.

X = XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He’s super affectionate! He loves touching you, whether that’s through hugs, hand-holding, cuddling, or kissing. He takes any chance he gets to tell/show just how much he adores you!

Y = Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

When he went away on his book tour, he took to sending you letters. He also called you at the end of every day. He prefers to call rather to text because he wants to hear your voice.

Z = Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind?

Absolutely! Anything you need—or want, even. You can always count on him. He’d pet a sea cucumber if it’d make you happy.

— HAVE A REQUEST? SUMBIT IT HERE!

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: DONATE • BOYCOTT TLOU • GAZAN MUTUAL AID MASTERLIST

❆ — 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

song: the night — lovewave

summary: a letter addressed to abby anderson, twenty years after the two of you parted.

warnings: 18+ mdni, literally straight up angst, letter format, from reader’s pov, set in the future, not proofread.

a/n: this is entirely inspired by moonlit winter (2019). this’ll probably be boring af but i love love that goes beyond time and the physical and i love mundane yet emotional movies <3

The icy air nipped at your fingertips, the chill tracing unforgiving trails from them to the bottom of your soles.

The snowfall was thick this time of year and it painted the small town in hushed tones. The only thing heard in the white noonday was the laboured crunch of your boots and the heave of your breath against your thick woollen scarf.

The cold barely registered, though, as you dipped your hand into your coat pocket. The thin, glossy edge of an envelope crinkled at the contact.

How could something so small and hidden conceal a whole lifetime within it? It felt like it was burning a hole where it sat, yearning to reunite with your being, to settle there and remain a secret.

The sound of your footfalls ceased, and you let out a slow exhale. A plume of air swelled in front of your vision, softening the edges of everything.

The post office box was rimmed with ice. It stood as lonesome as you did, on this drowsy street, in a town you knew so well now, yet not nearly enough as you should have. It was hard to be a part of something when you always had one eye gazing back at the past.

This would hopefully change that. A parting gift. A farewell to somebody you had said goodbye to long ago.

You reached for the letter.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Dear Abby,

It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

I don’t know if I will send this letter, but I can imagine the look on your face if you ever do receive it. Bushy, furrowed brows and downcast eyes… you never looked up when you were puzzled about something. It was if you had to retreat into yourself in order to make sense of the world around you.

The woman that I see receiving this is youthful and vibrant, forever frozen in the sands of my memory. Lines have begun to etch my features, and with each year that passes by, they deepen. It must be the same for you. It has to be, right? But the image of you, aged, eludes me.

I often imagine what kind of person you are now. Did you ever marry? Have children? Do you live in a house with a garden bursting with the smells of overripe berries and fresh herbs, like the one we fantasised about owning all those years ago? These are the reveries that have teeth, that sink and gnaw at something unspoken within me.

I did know you, once, but I’m unsure I do now. Does the soul change over time, or just the meat and bone that surrounds it?

I’ve experienced more of my life with your absence as opposed to your presence. I moved to a quiet corner of the world and made a life for myself. The summers here are mild and the winters are the never-ending and silent kind that we never saw back home. It’s somewhere that you would despise.

Maybe that’s why you plague my mind so often. This town is a place where I know you’d never find yourself in. Back then, I was running away from you and in a way, I still am. Like visiting an attic that one knows is haunted, I think of you.

I dream of you, too. Mundane, meaningless. Nothing happens in these dreams, but you’re there, shining. A wisp of blonde hair, the starlight of a freckled shoulder… the same.

I guess this sameness is what compelled me to write this. I’ve been walking through my life with my head craned back towards the past, so much so that I couldn’t see where I was headed. Now I’ve stopped, in the middle of it, in this purgatory. It can’t go on, Abby. At some point, I have to turn to face the future. I should have long ago.

I’m made up of regrets, but what good will they do now? Instead of listing the should-haves, I’ll tell you the truth;

This is not the first letter I’ve written that’s dedicated to you, but it will be the first I’ve ever had the courage to send. Let it be the last.

I’m sorry if what we shared has also left you with scars and an endlessness of seeking. I’m sorry that I was cowardly, and that I still am.

Thank you for the sliver of sweetness that you gave to me. Thank you for loving me like you meant it. I hope you know that I meant it, too. Everything I did, every word and every touch, was honest.

But I have lived with its death. Now I must let it rot.

Goodbye, Abby. Be braver than I am.

[hearts4lilith]

Once Again, I Have Words about the Minecraft Movie trailer.

(This time, they are positive.)

This is quite the long post, so prepare to hear all my silly opinions!

All images: Warner Bros. Pictures - A Minecraft Movie | Official Trailer

Full post under the cut :)

Wow. Okay. So turns out we're all fucking stupid.

This is not the nether portal!! This is a portal to the real world, thank the good lord! (Forgive the bad photo choice, t'was the only one I could find.)

I really like the way this trailer goes. "As a child, I yearned for the mines" is such a good little meme before we get into the minecraft world.

And honestly I take back what I said about jack black. He's.. honestly gonna be pretty good for Steve. Maybe I was just brainwashed by others' opinions.

AND THE BEES!!!! Definitely not as important as other stuff but OH MY GOD THE BEES ARE SO CUTE !!!!!!!!!!

Alright here we go

First things first, I REALLY like the crafting table title card. It's such an interesting idea!! I think it's a good little showcase of how well the studios involved have come to understand the game. And the fact that when you pause it, the crafting recipe is a shield!!!! It's not the one we know, but it's a shield! Just something interesting I spotted!

The special effects on the portal!! Good god, they're amazing...

AND THEY USED THE ACTUAL MINECRAFT SOUNDTRACK!!!!

Okay serious now;

The animals. The. Fucking. Animals. I love the animals so so much. As long as that sheep doesn't have human teeth anymore, I am happy. Because Oh My God LOOK AT THE WOLF.

OH WHAT A GOOD BOY

And then THE ENVIRONMENTS TOO??? HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUUUUUCKKKKK

I change my mind on the graphics. They are so so beautiful. JUST LOOK AT THIS SHOT.

Absolutely stunning. I am floored. I cannot wait to see this film. Still not the biggest fan of the casting but what's done is done.

The MINES. THE MINES!!!! OH MY STARS THE REDSTONE ORE IS SO PRETTY.

Also was it just me who thought the chicken-machine-thing was a little bit of a reference to MCSM?? No?? Okay-

Anyway to bring up one of my points from the last post (Attatched), I FUCKING LOVE THE PIGLINGS. THE PIGLINS AND THE GHASTS AND THE WHOLE NETHER ARE SO WELL DESIGNED AND ANIMATED THEYRE SICK

LIKENJUSTUUUGGHHGGGFUCKILOVETHEM

and then THE STASH. THE SCENE WHERE WE SEE ALL STEVE'S STUFF. THE WAY THE DIAMOND HELMET GLOWS. THE WINGED BOOTS. THE ARMOR. THE BOOKS THE POTIONS THE EVERYTHING IN THIS SHOT

I just wish the TNT were a BIT more detailed but other than that OH MY GODS!!!!!!

okay im gonna be honest i cba writing anymore but the general idea is I Fucking Love This Trailer & I Will Defend It With My Life

This is a film I would be happy with.

Please go watch the actual thing.

I Cannot Express How Much I Hate The Minecraft Movie Trailer.

First things first; who told them the nether portal was blue. Because I will find you. It's never NOT been purple.

Portal aside, the graphics are fucking SHIT.

I would've ABSOLUTELY preferred something fully animated over that crap.

Instead of putting actual effort into it, they made the sheep and the llama look stupid and the whole rest of the world just looks weird.

Like...

THATS NOT MINECRAFT?????

The piglins and ghasts look sick as hell, I'll admit, but you can't make the animals look like THAT. WHY DOES THE SHEEP HAVE HUMAN TEETH.

Okay. It's a choice, but it's still not my biggest issue.

Next, casting.

Why, on god's green earth, is JACK BLACK playing STEVE??? The reason he worked in The Mario Movie is because THAT WAS FULLY ANIMATED. I'm sorry, I love the guy. I do. But he's not good for Steve.

The famous names on your cast aren't the reason people are watching your movie. I can promise if you had lesser known actors playing more interesting characters in a more lovingly-made movie, it'd be about 50x better.

Also, if I may, we know NOTHING about the plot. We knew stuff about Mario, we knew stuff about FNaF, and we knew stuff about Barbie.

All we know is 3 jokes in the community that they've taken at surface-level and used that.

Forgive me if what I'm about to say makes no sense, I'm very emotional about how shitty this movie looks. But I believe that this whole film is gonna be full of awful, simple, overused jokes. I think it'll be the "...iiit's right behind me, isn't it? 😬" type of humor, and not a worthwhile plot.

Minecraft is about existence, and being, and creating your own world - Taking the earth from beneath your feet and making a home, your own place to belong. Carving out your place in a world that goes on forever.

I wish I believed in this movie; I wish it wasn't a cheap cash grab, and was instead a permanent immortalization of the game that has been such a great part of my life. I wish that instead of Jack Black, all the creators that helped to make this game and community famous were included and featured and honored. I was even hoping that maybe, for just a second, we might get a shot of a pig in a crown for Technoblade.

But if THAT is what the movie is going to be, if THAT is how they want this community and game to be remembered- I think I'm happy they're probably not going to do that.

We don't want this movie. Not if that is how you're going to do it.

[aroaceleovaldez]

full on feel like pjo tv s2 is not gonna hold up so they need to drag as much attention to the series as they can by using nico as a sock puppet w tsats2

im fully expecting the show to go the way of the movies. it doesnt help Sea of Monsters is almost unanimously the least favorite book of the first series. People frequently forget it even exists or what happens in it, especially more casual fans.

Heck, just look at how little fanfare the second season has gotten so far as compared to the build up to s1. I wouldn't be surprised if s2 totally flops. It would be a little funny.

[bloodandfleshautism]

just watched the borderlands movie and the only good part was that krieg’s little harness thingo lowkey looked like a very skimpy little bra thing sometimes

he needs some back support with those jugs ofc

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

[asilosmagdalena]

Actually quite terrifying that ymk has a handful of shows available on US Netflix because that means there is a non zero probability that I might meet someone irl who knows who he is. Americans never watch j-dramas but the fact is I can mention him in passing and they could easily learn who he is. That's not okay

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

across the world (in sixteen hours or less)

you know how you know nothing's gonna be okay again?

you lose your page again and again

you can't find your shoes

you pick up the phone even though you know you should stop

the happiest thing you can find is in a sad movie

and nothing changes

it's not English homework poetry where everything has to rhyme

you've got room now and it doesn't change a thing

your whole world is still your bedroom and some rock CDs

just like it was when you were five and ten and sixteen

there's no relief in the weather

because your weather's all the way across the world

(your brother's all the way across the world)

the rain is all the way across the world

the mountains you grew up with are outside your reach

the fog is still on that beach full of rocks

you still feel trapped

and you're never gonna see them again

xoxo.

[basslinegrave]

anyway i need more monarch a trois fics. sigh. wish i could write, i gotta draw them more at least