#sam.

[shiftythrifting]

found next to each other in CT. i guess sam is no longer the swag man.

[arabella-strange]

[neosatsuma]

[vilf-lover]

i think you know what i’m gonna say

[hungrydogs-if]

Fakeout makeout? Fakeout makeout.

(pretty please, dear author? 🥺)

oh boy you're getting some text now, nonny. you've opened the floodgates for one of my favorite tropes.

also these are a bit ambiguous and abrupt but i hope you enjoy! also all in the same setting.

dane

a wall catches your back just as a rough hand settles on the nape of your neck, cold rings a stark contrast to the sudden heat of his lips on yours. the beard scratches your chin as he holds still, the broad expanse of his torso shielding you from those prying eyes that settle on your darkened forms in the dimly-lit alley. you hear a distant voice mistake you for just a couple of drunken lovebirds, and you feel the chuckle that rumbles in his chest through where your hand is pressed against it. the footsteps recede until there is no other sound than your intermingled breathing, and the hammering of your heart beneath your chest. the fingers release your neck and trail over to tug at the lapels of your jacket, gripping it just for a moment longer before he pulls away with a laugh and a smile, his words a husky rumble in the darkness; "close call, huh?"

mona

she is swift when the footsteps approach, pulling you into an alcove with strength you know only she possesses. in the darkness you hear her ask, "do you trust me?" but she knows the answer. nimble fingers snake around your throat, sharp nails gently scratching into sensitive skin right below your ear and warm, plush lips press against yours as you stumble back against the wall. her thumbs soothe the edge of your jaw, and the taste of black cherries lingers on your lips as the darkness swallows you. the beam of a flashlight passes overhead, and in that brief moment you freeze, the hand that now rests on her hips tightening in response. she pulls away, whispers a reassuring hush, amber eyes glinting in that brief luminous glow. as the footsteps grow distant, she offers you a final caress across your cheekbones, and you know you're safe once again.

sam (no kiss, hugs instead)

their fingers are cold wrapped around your wrist. labored breaths escape both of you, and the feeling of hopelessness creeps closer with every footsteps you hear approaching further behind. a sudden diversion of your path makes you stumble, leg catching a stray debris and you feel gravity meeting you. the pain never comes, a soft body trapped beneath yours as you lie on top of them, heat radiating off overexerted bodies hiding in the shadows. when the footsteps grow louder, they panic, wide eyes darting from you to the alley, and suddenly your body is pulled towards them in an impressive feat of strength. they hug you tight, and you, too, let your head rest against their shoulder as you return the embrace. you stay there for what feels like hours until the night is once again quiet, and you've never enjoyed the silence of the city quite as much as you do then, held tight in those arms.

thirteen

stray lights reflect off a visor when they tilt their head, eerily quiet, like death itself. a miniscule raise of their chin is all the warning you get before gloved fingers curl around your forearm, and the world shifts on its axis. a wall welcomes you with a harsh pain, and you bite your tongue not to make a sound. in a rush, your vision goes dark. the smell of leather invades your senses, the sensation of a warm palm over your eyes a sudden shift. the hollering continues, echoing down the narrow alley, but the impact of what you know is fiberglass on asphalt steals your attention. a questions forms on your lips, your own fingers reaching for the hand planted over your eyes only to be pushed aside, pinned to the cold wall by your head. the questions are swiftly silenced by something rough - lips not at all soft, but scarred, with a deep gouge across, leaving the sensation bizarre, asymmetrical. before you can collect you thoughts, the cold fiberglass of a Helmer grazes the bridge of your nose, and the warm leather disappears from your eyes, leaving you blinking at your own reflection in that infernal, abyssal visor. the phantom sensation still lingers on your lips, and they lift a finger to their face in a shushing motion, only then releasing the hand still pinned to the wall.

angel

"what did you do, what did you do" the words are spoken in a panic, two strong hands on your shoulders in attempt to shake the answer out of you. hazel eyes burn into yours, wild and frantic. searching for an answer you can't articulate. a frustrated growl comes from them as they pace, hands running through their hair. your brain doesn't catch up with your movements before you've shedded the telltale jacket off your shoulders, quickly discarded on the ground, swallowed by the shadows falling around you. your hands are on their body before you realize, and the grunt of impact is swallowed by your lips when they tumble against the harsh wall. you feel angry fingers curling into the collar of your shirt, freezing there as voices call out from beyond the darkness. their lips are soft, cold in the frigid evening air, and you feel the snarl in how they mold against yours, if only for a moment before the sounds of angry pursuers vanish and you're roughly shoved back. meeting those furious eyes is a sight, and in the low light you see no hazel, only blown pupils glaring daggers at you.

[vvhimsicals]

muse - samuel " sam " harvey , fisherman , he / him .

plot - sam is new to town and your muse invited him to a party .

open to - anything that fits , 25+

" oh , wow , okay , " sam was startled by the sudden hug . " thank you , so much ... for the warm welcome . " he greeted the other with a nervous smile . " i can see you've already drank plenty without me . need me to grab you water ? "

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

oh, you know....

[laotwormz]

holy shit

[rejectory]

@normaltothemax: “any sudden moves, i put one right between your eyes.”

in his ear, bucky barks, “what was that?”

❛whoa, whoa, whoa, easy.❜

sam’s hands do the good old no-harm flying up of reason. he’d need another set to count how many times he’s had a barrel pointed at him. each time is like the first time.

each time, he wants to be a little less reasonable about it.

❛i’m looking for a guy called marc spector. you know ‘im?❜

[idv-devils-casino]

(Delivery! A paper crane for both Risktaker and Moonblessed.)

(… The former’s looks a bit worn, some edges slightly messily done and falling apart - as if it might’ve been near water.)

"Oh! Aren’t these paper cranes just the most cutest thing, Mrs. Risktaker?"

"…"

"..Ah, Mrs. Risktaker?"

[moonlight-race]

You should really look out for that “old man” of yours, Flo. These tracks don’t seem fully unstable and honestly, so does he… doesn’t it seem like he could fall all the way to the bottom at any moment now?

"Are you trying to imply something here? He’ll be finnee! I’ve shown him all the tips and tricks. With a great mentor like me, even he’ll be one of the best in no time. No way better than me, of course. That old man better not go falling on me, or he’ll have to deal with my wrath before he even gets to hit the ground!"

[aspirinqs]

what is better than this

[hungrydogs-if]

Just got recc'ed this game today and YEAH I can't wait to read now. Saw that cute lil short of the VP with Angel's daughter and now I have to know-

The ROs (maybe early crush stage?) reactions to seeing an intimidating (at least visually) VP being kind and entertaining a passing kid with a soft smile on their face like with card tricks or cats cradle or something?

So looking forward to making my VP!!!

people get this game rec'd to them? i- 🥺👉👈 thank you love, i can't wait to get a proper, meaty demo out for y'all!

now, my inability to react properly to compliments aside, here's something i'm marginally better at: some reaction writing!

dane would feel that warm, fuzzy feeling of affection that comes with seeing one's crush best friend do something that makes them light up. of course he's well aware that at the end of the day, the mc - even if they look and/or act intimidating - is very much human. he'd stand there in muted adoration with a goofy little smile on his face and eventually call them a dork.

mona would be keeping an eye out for threats, as she usually is. but the distraction proves too tempting, and she lowers her guard to watch, a soft smile on her lips. knowing her, she would encourage the mc to show their best tricks, and get the child all hyped up for the show while she secretly basks in the peaceful expression on the mc's face.

sam loves card tricks, so they're just as transfixed on those as they are on the sight of the mc looking anything but a rugged criminal. they'd probably blurt out that they didn't know the mc could look so serene, instead of the terrifying visage they used to be so scared of. after that they'd quickly hide the blush and sheepishly ask for more tricks.

thirteen is bad at expressing any outward emotion, so they'd just... stand there. staring. it's a bit creepy sure, but they're paying very close attention; everything from how the way mc's eyes look softer, how their tone shifts to make the kid feel safe, to the miniscule changes in posture and stance. they'd be captivated by it, intrigued and in a bit of awe.

and angel, they'd be skeptical at first. it's in their nature to be suspicious of the mc no matter what they do, but the stone-cold detective might just crack when the kid laughs. it'd raise confusing feelings, contradicting ones, as they - to their horror - slowly start to realize that they enjoy seeing the mc outside the rigid bubble the san maro pd has placed them in.

[dogtheories]

im going to write a book about john green and travis mcelroy making sweet love

[entrepy]

@knowseverythingaboutyou   :    "you look like you're going to fall asleep on your feet." 

      ‘ Unfortunately that’s a talent I’ve yet to master. Be super helpful if I could, though. ’ He gives her a wry grin and presses his fingers into the clasp on his shoulder that releases him from his jetpack, then pulls off his cowl with a small grimace. It was all very well to have bird’s eye access to the city, to avoid traffic jams and bustling sidewalks, but flying sure took a toll on the body, and Sam’s been using his method of transportation to keep a tail on their targets for the past week. The exhaustion was real. ‘ Point me to your nearest bunk, Maria. You don’t want to have to be the one to carry my if I fall asleep right here. ’ 

[postgraduate]

my centralmost sam/diane thoughts:

i tend to see canon! sam and diane as a modern romantic tragedy. they’re set up as social opposites, but to just say That is disingenuous imo, and skips over the intricacies. because it’s more so that the characters are written as being at odds / in conflict with what regulates them socially. they are often posturing to meet expectations of gender and class. and then this interferes in their relationship with each other, while it stifles them as individuals.

and the thing with sam and diane is they learn to recognize this through each other. they -- whether they intend to or not; both apply -- encourage each other to reflect on where they could personally better themselves, or be more of themselves. they do unmask with each other. and this is the core of their tragedy, because this productivity/unmasking can flip if they instead allow themselves (allow is the operative word, and accountability here is important) to be regulated by social constructs, customs, etc. which can lead to an emotional repression or denial -- and it’s this very emotional repression that ultimately brings their relationship to its end by manifesting as failures to communicate, and not taking accountability over that or challenging it that, i would suggest, leads them to lose each other. and what's painful is, they are on the cusp of addressing this multiple times throughout s4. they're almost there, almost, almost -- and then they fall short.

and, yes, shelley left cheers (which i, again!, support) and so that’s a variable in why it played out this way, but it isn't the only one. the writers, in anticipation of shelley’s departure, didn’t have to write s5 the way they unfortunately, ooc-ly wrote it after the emotional development we see in s4 (this is another essay) -- but, god. i think what comes from all this, at least in my read of sam/diane, is that they’re a compelling study of particular relationships in society, how relationships can be affected by society -- and why they may fail in society. (penny for every time i say ‘society’)

so i have this complicated appreciation for the fact they aren’t endgame. for the honesty and realism. but the cheers fix-it writer that i am, who is so compelled by these characterizations, is constantly, also considering, well, if they HAD been challenged. if they communicated productively, like s4 hinted they were heading toward. if, if, if. to quote avclub’s analysis of them, 'maybe this time.' because it's so apparent that they were written as the big loves of each other's lives.

of course anything written in the 1980′s will feel of its time in places, so there’s execution that could stand to be updated. especially in order for them, in a fix-it, to feel like they can continue on. that’s why fandom-ers are here! ;o) and cheers was groundbreaking for its time because it was the first sitcom to introduce long-time plots/character arcs. however! it was still limited by the sitcom genre, where (s/o to a friend much more versed in sitcom theory than i am who taught me this:) inflexibility is a characteristic of the genre. so -- breaking those characters out of the conventions of the sitcom (which requires them to be static to a degree) is also where i am ~permitted~ to diverge from canon