#( and this will be my last ooc post )

[bittasol]

smile, iruma! | hey ive been here before

[thefloatingstone]

Trying to figure out how to make squid boy emote because every time I've drawn him so far he looks very stern and it just didn't sit right with me. Also the more I played the more I noticed how his expressions change.

Anyway this is what I got so far. I plan to do more because hoo boy is it tricky to pull certain emotions out of him.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

For Mod Bee : We'd actually like to see these doodles of yours! (Mainly cause i'm desperate for more content) but it's alr if you don't wanna! Just a suggestion

// i suppose i can put out some of them ! okay my children here's your dinner ^^ //

[nouriyx]

scar i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry, scar-

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲. 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

you can’t fall asleep, so Shadow tries to help.

content. shadow x gn!reader, implied insomnia (reader), sickening amount of fluff (especially towards the end), mentions of shadows past and reader being upset about it

☂︎ wc. 1.2k ☂︎ a/n. second post obviously has to be shadow, yeah? might as well make my next one silver and then scourge, but i dunno. totally gonna reuse this idea for him in a way, i think it’s super sweet. <3 maybe a version where you two AREN"TTT really in a relationship yet? secret mutual pining murhehehehe

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

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⋆｡˚ 🌨 ˚｡⋆｡🌩˚☽˚｡⋆ 

☂

“You’re still awake?” Shadow murmurs, his footsteps causing the wooden floor to creak under him, emerging from his room with a small rub of his ear,  watching you as you take a small glass cup from the cupboard, open the fridge slightly to take out the water pitcher, and then pour yourself a drink.

You could say the same thing for him, but you might’ve just woken him up from the noise of you making your way to the kitchen. He’s never been the deepest sleeper. Always alert.

“Why’re you awake this late?” He comes over to where you’re standing, brushing against you as he urges you back to your room with a hand set right on your waist. His gloves are off, yet his inhibitor rings remain, a soft reminder in the back of your head. “Did something happen? A nightmare?”

You shake your head, taking a sip of water before making it clear to him you just had trouble falling asleep. Best not to tell him it’s been going on for more than just tonight, for a while now actually, but knowing him, he might already be aware of that fact. You never like to worry him too much. No matter how much he likes to hide it, he really does care about you. Sometimes the concern is a little much, but it’s just his own way of showing love, so it’s never bothered you.

His brows furrow as he glances at the digital clock set on the microwave, a clear 03:14 set right there for both of you to see. His eyes flick back to you, letting a small sigh leave his lips.

“Do you need me to keep you company?” He mutters, his tone seeming almost agitated, yet his body language saying just the opposite as his hand falls loosely to your hips, then drops to his side.

You shake your head with a firm refusal; you don’t want to bother him with your little issue tonight. You’ll fall asleep eventually; you always do. But Shadow doesn’t seem swayed by your refusal.

He grumbles, crossing his arms as he leans against the fridge, looking at you with that stoic expression he usually has. “So what’re you going to do then? I assume you’ve been up for hours.” No point in denying that. You nod softly, and his frown deepens with your confirmation. “See? Don’t be so dumb.”

Dumb?

Shadow’s face softens quickly, noticing the mistake in his words. It wasn’t anything too serious, yet it still bugged you in an odd way, making you cross an arm over your stomach and make a small circular motion with the cup in your other hand, the water sloshing around inside, filling the silence between you two.

Shadow grunts, clearly displeased at the sudden silence, yet understanding his mistake, and he shakes his head while looking at you, his ears flicking downward slightly with an apologetic expression on his face.

… You’ll take his apology just like that for tonight. It wasn’t like he called you a ‘dumbass’ or anything; nor did he really mean to insult you.

“Hmph.”  He huffs, his gaze trailing down at the floor for a moment as you take a few more sips of your water, letting the coolness run down your throat. His finger taps impatiently on his arm, clearly deep in thought, before his voice rings out again to you.

“Do you think sleeping with someone else would help?” Someone else? You peek over at him, tilting your head. Does he know that he can just say himself instead of that? He probably does.

Shadow turns, not meeting your gaze, and glancing towards the window at the far end of the room, noticing the moonlight shining through. Is he a bit embarrassed? Even after both of you have been together for this long?

Some things never change. Not that you mind it when it comes to Shadow. The only reason why you two still sleep separately is because you thought it would be nice to give him some privacy at times. Maybe another moving day would be in order; you'll ask him about it tomorrow.

You purse your lips to fight back the giggle sending itself up your throat, but you nod softly. His warmth would be nice tonight. As long as a quill doesn’t prick you or anything, but he’s usually so careful with you that it rarely happens at all.

“... Come on.” Shadow runs the back of his fingers against your arm, gesturing for you to put the cup down and come to bed with him, almost as if he’s pleading for you to do so.

And who are you to refuse?

Your hand drags up his wrist slowly, bumping over his inhibitor ring and feeling the fur on his palm, also at the base of his fingertips, then intertwining your fingers with his, closing your eyes, and snuggling your head closer to his chest. His heartbeats so calm, pattering right against your head.

Shadow was never one to be so physically affectionate with you, and if you weren’t so tired, the night calling your name, you would’ve teased him lightly about the gesture. But it’s not like you’re going to complain either.

Not that he didn’t want to give it to you, or that he disliked it entirely. It just wasn’t his main form of showing his love for you. He can accept a hug sometimes, but being so touchy too often made him feel awkward. It feels better when Shadow’s comfortable enough to give such acts of affection to you.

“I’ll be with you until you fall asleep.” He says quietly, the weight of the bed shifting ever so slightly as his other hand rises off the bed, hesitating in the air before he settles it right on your head, petting you softly. “Wake me up if anything.” A soft sigh leaves his lips, followed by a grumble you can feel from deep within his chest as his body relaxes under the weight of you, clutching your fingers tighter with his own. “I’ll be here.”

Your wrist brushes against his inhibitor ring, your brows furrowing and eyes squeezing tighter as you're reminded of his past struggles and pain. It sucks that he had to go through so much before you two met. It hurts. How many times have you cried over him in private, his own aching and sorrow spreading to you? He caught sobbing you once, telling you not to worry about it repeatedly as he wiped your flowing tears away. But how can you not?

Shadow notices you tense up under him, his heartbeat quickening just the tiniest bit at your sudden discomfort. “What's wrong?” He mumbles, but you brush off his concern and just sigh against him, murmuring a soft sweet nothing as you tilt your head up to press a kiss on his lips briefly, saying nothing else as you lie back down against his chest. What is there to say, really? ‘I’m sorry for your terrible past’? It would just be a reminder; one he doesn’t need tonight, or ever.

Shadow says nothing else at your display of affection, but responds physically with a soft peck of his own, right on your head. Oh, how much more lucky can you get tonight? You try to hold back the smile forming on your face, but it's pointless to try to hide your joy.

While your relationship with him might not be cuddles and roses all the time, you wouldn’t want anything else from him. You don’t. He already makes you feel like the world.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

[ruegarding]

we do not have five entire books full of percy's philosophical thoughts for rick to pull this shit. if annabeth was in character, she would be looking at this architecture and consider what she'd do different (and since she's redesigning olympus, she'd maybe also consider if she'd use any designs there). her fatal flaw is hubris and it should be a staple characteristic of hers.

[ridingtorohan]

Mikasa Ackerman dating a short(er) S/O

‏‏‎ 𓇻 masterlist ! join my taglist !

‏‏‎ 𓇻 feel free to like, share, reblog or comment!‏‏‎

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏───※ ·❆· ※───

Mikasa is tall by most country's standards. She knows this and towers most of her fellow female cadets. Frankly, she isn't phased at all by the height of her partner. It's just a thing she makes a mental note of and stashes it away for later.

Instinctively reaches for the items from the top shelf if you're reaching for it. She'll pause if you already have a stool out and ask if you need help but any other time, she'll do it herself.

It's not a big deal to her so if you protest she'll just nod and stop doing it. (She knows Captain Levi personally. She knows you can handle yourself.)

Are you missing your stool, want her help but don't want her to grab it for you? She'll scoop you up in her arms and give you a boost.

Definitely lingers for a few seconds too long, eyes heavily lidded with her hands wrapped around your waist. It's long enough to notice but not long enough to hinder the task at hand.

Absolutely adores picking you up by your hips (for a hug or smooch) or giving you a piggyback ride.

Are you receptive to being carried? Mikasa can and will carry you to each room as you complete your everyday chores.

Will lug you under her arm like a teddy bear as she prepares for bed.

Often reaches down to brush the hair from your forehead. It's a tender, loving gesture from her. Sometimes she'll leave a little kiss.

Absolutely mesmerized by the size difference between you two, especially with a live comparison. Hand to hand Tarzan style? Beautiful. You cuddled to her chest? Amazing. She'll worship all these features, taking her time adoring them in small ways (and in the bedroom).

Listen…… if she finds out you like her towering over you, getting in close, it's game over. She'll smirk and rain kisses from above, showing you that this can work out. Likewise, giving her bedroom eyes from below.

(Definitely makes excuses so that she's below your eye level. Thinks it's cute. Thinks you're cute.)

Speaking of cuddling, really enjoys having you pressed to her chest, your arms wrapped around her. She's a big spoon and you can't change my mind but you can change hers. She just adores having you in her arms, even if that has you holding her instead.

Has you on her lap a lot.

If short jokes get on your nerves, Mikasa will doom glare the offender into next year. An angry Mikasa is a scary Mikasa.

Will help you beat the shit out of them unprompted.

Doesn't make short jokes but will tease you about your height (more in the vein of "how am I supposed to kiss you from all the way up here/down there?") if you're comfortable with it.

Will smile or huff a small life if you make a joke about your own/her height.

Lets you wear her clothes.

Gets especially tender and sweet if she sees you swamped in them. Will actually reach don and adjust the cuffs of you (her) pants if they're dragging on the ground.

Casually wears a few of yours around the house, but only if you insist/don't mind the stretch.

(Secretly feels all mushy and squishy when she sees your clothes not even making it to her ankles/wrists.)

You can't see at a concert? She'll break their kneecaps- I mean find a compromise. Listen, Mikasa is toned. She can balance you on her shoulders/piggyback you no problem.

Either smirks teasingly if you get on your tiptoes to kiss her or gives you a very tender look. (Or both. Both is good.)

Will bend down if you ask/tug. Or if you're receptive, she'll pick you up and kiss you in her arms or place you on the nearest counter/table.

Gets sappy if you don't even try to kiss her mouth but instead kiss whatever part of her you can reach, arm, hand, etc.

If she's going in for a kiss, she'll bend her back and press a light one to your temple. If it's your lips she's after, her fingers will ghost lightly over your chin and jaw, eyes half-lidded. "Can I?"

Literally unphased if you're the "short angry chihuahua" stereotype who "bites ankles".

[isthei]

funny little situation where 1 year postwar, katara toph and zuko get isekai’d to lok era and toph bullies them into becoming a pro bending team

katara: that’s the new avatar??

korra: [has no idea who they are, yelling from across the ring] aren’t you too young to be here

zuko (5 apples tall): i’m older than you?

korra: suuuure. look, i don’t want to beat up a bunch of babies

toph: BABIES???? babies? oh that’s it. eat DIRT twinkletoes [launches korra into the sky]

[nu-carniviva]

Happy Halloween everyone! I'm staying home this year giving out candy to kids, so here's what I think the clan would do if they had to give out candy too :>

Also inspired by a tiktok I saw with the same concept but with Saiki K characters

Eiden: Eiden would do what you'd pretty much expect for someone in his position. He waits for kids to knock on his door before greeting them with a smile and complimenting their costumes while handing out candy. He starts to get bored after a while though. The kids are cute and all, but sometimes Eiden thinks back to his partying days and how he'd spend Halloween nights partying all night in a slutty costume. Oh well. At least he has Aster and Morvay and whoever else might be in the mansion to keep him company. It gives him an opportunity to talk about Halloween back in his world too.

Aster: Aster might take Eiden's place from time to time to hand out candy. But of course, in true Aster The Moneymaking Machine fashion, he found a way to make some money on the side. Sure, you can have one of the big fancy candy bars… For a small fee >:3 Though he knows not many people go out trick-or-treating with money, so he'll settle for a trade. A bunch of the other person's small candy in exchange for one big candy. I like to think Aster has a bit of a sweet tooth.

Morvay: I've always headcanoned that Morvay has a thing for candy. I wouldn't say he has a sweet tooth, but he does definitely have an oral fixation if that wasn't obvious already. He'd probably snatch up some pieces of the candy he's supposed to be giving out (either by request of Eiden or order of Aster) but they're usually things like lollipops. If a kid with a really hot dad showed up, Morvay can and will try to invite him inside for a… special Halloween treat. Freaky ass.

Yakumo: If you want the good stuff, Yakumo will be your very best bet. Halloween gives Yakumo the excuse to bake, and how could he pass up an opportunity like that? The word will eventually spread around the children of the Light Territory (maybe even the Water Territory if they're close enough) that there's a tall, kind man handing out yummy homemade treats and candies, they'll come flocking to him. Yakumo gets a little overwhelmed by the swarm of children at his door, but he's beyond happy that so many people are enjoying his baking. He might have gone a little overboard though, because despite all the treats he gave away, he has leftovers for everyone in the clan.

Edmond: Realistically, Edmond would probably be too busy with his knightly duties to hand out candy, as I'd imagine holidays are always pretty hectic for the knights. If he does get the chance, however, Edmond would be the type to stay outside the whole time passing out candy so he can keep watch in case any suspicious activity starts going on. Whatever amount of candy Edmond has for trick-or-treaters, he has double that amount at home for himself. How this man's teeth haven't rotted out of his head is beyond me.

Olivine: Naturally, the temple is the most popular place in the Water Territory for trick-or-treaters to visit. People of all ages swarm the temple for a chance to interact with Olivine. He's used to all the attention, but he'd be very grateful if someone else from the clan were able to help him pass out candy. He makes sure to compliment every person's costume with his signature gentle smile, and I'd like to bet that some people get so excited that they faint. It's a certainly eventful night at the temple, to say the least.

Quincy: Sigh. How troublesome. Quincy would much rather be celebrating the holiday with a nice, long slumber — or at the very least carving more pampos (Eiden got him into it. It's actually pretty calming) — but if he must pass out candy, he can't bring himself to say no. Fortunately, if he's in his own home, not many people are in the Wood Territory in the first place, and usually the ones who do visit are yokai interested in this strange human holiday. But if he's at the mansion, he'll be dealing with many more visitors. At least Topper is enjoying himself... And stealing some candy.

Kuya: Kuya is all trick, no treat. I'm not sure if anyone would actually be stupid enough to visit his home to trick or treat, but Kuya still gets his fun in by toying with anyone passing by. His little tricks range from something as simple as changing the layout of the forest to get people lost, to casting illusions so insane that people swear they're going to die that night. Maybe he'll cast an illusion of rabid beasts chasing people down and attacking. Maybe he'll cast an illusion of people's costumes coming to life and trapping the people inside to slowly absorb them. He miiiight be on better behavior if Eiden was around, but not significantly. There's certainly never a dull moment with Kuya around.

Garu & Karu: Costumes? Candy? Decorations? Candy? Spooky attractions? CANDY? Needless to say, Garu and Karu are interested. Garu loves seeing everyone's fun costumes and gives everyone lots of enthusiastic, tail-wagging praise. Karu, on the other hand, uses the opportunity to spread the word of his world domination to these tiny humans so they will have no choice but to cower in fear or offer to be one of his human slaves… Or so he wishes. Each time, the children are like "Haha okay mister. Do you have any candy?" Garu and Karu have one thing and common though: scarfing down candy. They aren't very subtle about eyeing the candy in every trick-or-treater's bag, and someone else in the mansion always needs to monitor them in case they start stealing too much of the candy they're supposed to be giving out.

Blade: First of all, Blade played a big role in decorating the mansion and you can clearly tell that from like a mile away. He made his own costume too… But nobody can ever figure out what he's supposed to be (unless he dresses up as Eiden, then Eiden will stare at him in horror.) All the costumes are suuuper cute to him, which will totally confuse kids wearing costumes that are supposed to be scary. Every time he gives someone their candy, he sings a little "candy for yooou~!" per person. I wouldn't be surprised if he spent the week prior making a bunch of little Eiden dolls to put into everyone's bags too. Everyone Needs A Little Darling !

Dante: Sun Lord Dante giving candy out to the children of the Fire Territory? Such a thing would originally be unheard of… Before Eiden came along. Now, for reasons Dante would never admit out loud, he feels compelled to hand out candy, or at least have one of his servants do it. Though if he is the one doing it, he's a little scary about it. Try as he might, Dante just does not have a friendly face or voice (but he swears he's trying.) Overall, Dante isn't a fan of feeding his people such sweet treats, buuuuut just doing it one night every 365 days wouldn't hurt. As long as everyone works it off the next day.

Rei: Like Quincy, Rei has no interest in handing out candy, as he believes there are better ways to be spending his time. Difference is, though, is that Rei does what he wants and truly does not give out candy. If he's home, he'll keep the lights off and work on the ground with a single little lamp on. If he's at the mansion, he simply won't answer the door. There's other people in the mansion, after all. If they want to give out candy so badly, they can do it themselves. But, for the sake of this post, let's say he decides to give out candy. Rei would just toss a candy bar vaguely in the direction of whoever is at the house and shut the door. The kid got their candy, so no complaints allowed.

[charmac]

[seventh-district]

Dying Star

In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

- - - - - - -

Sam’s words have been weighing heavy on your mind ever since you discussed your shared future and the various forms it could take. You didn’t realize just how heavy they were until it all came spilling out of your tired mind on a late night spent together beneath the stars.

Pairing: Sam x Darlin' / Reader

Word Count: 4,053

Contains: [angst] [a dash of humor] [a hint of chubby!Sam bc i like 'em strong and soft] [crying] [cuddling (dub-con cuddles with Quinn in the past & consensual ones with Sam in the present)] [emotional hurt/comfort] [implied/referenced dub-con sex (nothing graphic) (in the past between Darlin' and Quinn to be specific) (refer to my Ao3 notes for further explanation)] [mentioned Quinn] [not quite Dissociation i guess but Darlin' does zone-out/get lost in thought more than once] [pet names (Darlin' (obvs.) and honey)] [Reader is Darlin'] [Sam wears a cowboy hat bc i said so] [some passive suicidality from Sam if you squint (hell, maybe you don't even have to squint)]

A/Ns: Well, well, well, here I am, the person who said they wouldn't write any Redactedverse fanfic. I recently felt a mighty need to expand upon the blurb I wrote in this post, and I'm braving my fandom anxiety by sharing it here. pls be nice 2 me abt it

Timeline-wise, this fic takes place sometime after the ‘Talking About the Future With Your Vampire Mate’ audio but sometime before their presumed eventual departure from the house that William gave Sam, given that they've already had the 'turning' discussion but are still on the same roof in this fic.

This is a songfic, inspired by and quoting verses from 3 songs. Those being:

‘Dying Star’ by Ashnikko feat. Ethel Cain

‘Fix What You Didn’t Break’ by Nate Smith

‘No Plan’ by Hozier

The roof of Sam’s house is far from a ‘cushy’ place to relax. But as you lie here next to him under the stars, a knowledge settles within you that you wouldn’t trade the rough shingles beneath you for the softest mattress in the world. Not if it meant there’d be anyone other than him lying next to you.

Some people might counter that it’s an easy thing for you to say, given the number of nights you’ve thrown a balled-up shirt onto one end of a worn-out couch and called it a bed. But some people don’t know you as well as they think they do.

You’ve known luxury. Quinn might’ve been just as content taking his fill on a seedy motel bed as he was wrapped in silks at a Hilton, but he knew how to play up the luxe when it served him to do so. And in the early days as he worked to lure you in, it did. Plush sheets and expensive drinks helped to soften the preordained blows and dull the imminent pain that your nights with him held.

Once you’d latched onto the bait though, he let the act drop one piece at a time, like props collapsing on a stage. After all, what was the point in all of those frivolities when you both knew what you really came to him for? It wasn’t to be wined and dined, it wasn’t to be dressed up and shown off, and it wasn’t even to be slowly stripped of it all, laid out across the rolling clouds of a pillowy mattress.

It was to be used. Tranced. Restrained. Bitten. Drank from. Choked. Hit. Edged. Denied. Made to writhe and whine and bleed and plead. Plead for more, for less, for nothing, for anything. Anything to quiet your mind and fill the ever-expanding void inside you where you suspect love was supposed to live.

That’s what you both really wanted.

At least, that’s what you told him you wanted.

That’s what you told yourself.

You only got what you asked for.

To your right, Sam stirs, stretching gently with a yawn. The soft noise he releases as he does so reminds you of where you are, and you trace back through your thoughts to find how you got so lost.

…Right. Luxury.

While your relationship with Quinn certainly changed over time, you never forgot what it felt like in the beginning. 

You remember nights laid next to him, body sore, mind quiet. Quinn’s idea of aftercare was lacking to say the least, but you had nothing better to compare it to at the time, and you’d take what you could get. At least your head felt empty, and the bed was soft. Exhaustion would pull you under soon enough.

The mattress, sheets, and pillows enveloping you were likely worth more than you even made that past month. ...Or several. You found that display of luxury hard to be impressed by though, when it wasn’t the type of comfort you’d been seeking.

As Quinn shifted in his presumed sleep, pulling you in tighter, you didn’t fight it. You found yourself unwilling to fight anything he did, like his mere presence was enough to drain the fight right out of you. You told yourself that you were okay with that. Because you wanted it.

Lying there with your head on his bare chest, you took a deep breath and told yourself that you liked the stench of cheap cologne, poorly masking the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath. You silently told yourself that you liked everything. You liked the pain that he chased with hints of pleasure. You liked the loss of power, the way you couldn’t fight back if you wanted to once he looked you in the eyes. You liked all the things he said, no matter how much the truth might hurt.

He was right, you supposed. Your desires, the things you craved, the depravity that you so enjoyed, wasn’t normal. It was uncommon, unusual, and in the eyes of some, unfathomable. To possess such dark desires, there must be something truly broken inside you.

How lucky you were, to have found someone willing to indulge you. Someone that could give you everything you wanted, and be so kind as to keep it a secret too. He promised that word of the things he did to you, the things you let him do, would never get out. You remember the way he held your hand as he told you, falling for the guise of sincerity in his eyes. You remember his warm smile, and his razor sharp teeth.

You remember seeing that exact same smile on his face through one-way glass as he sat across from Sam and told him everything.

You stood in that room and thought back to those nights of luxury. To the feeling of his nails ghosting over the freshly healed punctures in your neck. To the way he held you against him. You remember laying there, lifeless, feeling like prey playing dead. Afraid to move, afraid to disturb him. But why? He hadn’t threatened you. He never told you that you had to stay. He never said that you couldn’t move, or pull away. So why did you feel that way?

As you stood, helplessly witnessing hours of his slander in that interrogation room, you understood. Your rose-tinted glasses had long since shattered, and you saw that smile for what it was. It was the smile of a man playing a dangerous game, brimming with satisfaction, thinking he’d won.

The radio near you begins to crackle, static obscuring the hosts voice as they announce the upcoming song. Sam doesn’t even open his eyes, just raises a hand and reaches out, blindly adjusting the antenna of the old device.

You’ve teased him for holding onto it for so long, as he is wont to do with damn near all of his possessions. But as you watch him deftly extend and angle the antenna with practiced care, the response he once gave you proves itself true once again.

“I don’t wanna replace it, Darlin’. It’s not broken. It just needs someone who knows how to make it sing again.”

The static clears, and music flows through the radio’s old speakers once more.

You watch Sam return his hand to its prior position beneath his head, acting as a makeshift pillow of his own. The way he’s lying has his hat pushed forward, and it’d be doing a damn good job of shielding his face from the sun if it weren’t somewhere around midnight at the moment. Still, it suits him somehow, despite its lack of any practicality. All he’s missing is a stalk of wheat between his teeth and a tree to lean against and he’d be the spitting image of the cowboy he swears he isn’t.

His other hand rests on the soft curve of his stomach, rising and falling again as he breathes. He’s the image of peace in moments like these, and you’re drawn to it like a moth to flame. Maybe one of these days you’ll find some of your own, but for now you’re more than content to bask in his.

As you admire him, he takes a slow, deep breath and you mirror it on instinct. The grounding practice helps you leave your mind and return to your body, if just for a moment. In doing so, you realize just how tense your ruminations have made you.

You relax your hands, releasing the blanket beneath you from your iron grip. You brush your palms over it, worried that you’ve torn the fabric once you realize that your nails had halfway shifted to claws. You don’t fret much over damage to your own possessions, but this blanket is Sam’s and you’d hate to ruin it. Though, you suppose he doesn’t prize it too much or he wouldn’t have laid it out here across the roof in the first place.

“If I buy somethin’ it’s because I wanna use it. Now quit frettin’ and get over here.” You recall what he told you earlier as he patted the blanket next to him in invitation, and you smile.

Doing a small stretch of your own, you release the tension in your shoulders, turning your attention back to the stars above you. For a while, you let the soft music wash over your tired mind.

“I asked him not to kill me politely. He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source. I washed up on the sea glass shores. I’m nobody's captive.”

In spite of your best efforts to relax, you’re still subconsciously futzing with the loose threads of the old blanket beneath you.

You’re made aware of it when Sam reaches a hand down, gently laying it over yours and effectively stilling your anxious motion.

“Burning like a dying star, invasive weeds rooted in my heart, set in a crooked trajectory. The journey here was hard, I was almost pulled apart. Trying to leave his orbit took what’s left of me.”

You flip your hand over beneath his so you can hold it properly, lacing your fingers together.

For reasons beyond your understanding, emotion tightens your throat, the threat of tears pooling in your eyes.

…You must be more tired than you thought.

As minutes pass and one song fades into another, your gaze dances across the blurry, scattered points of light in the dark sky.

“You were the star in the pitch black, shine the way on the way back. Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers.”

Sam’s always been so much better at identifying stars and finding constellations. But as the music plays, you begin to see one of your own.

“Picked up the towel that I threw in, took in a heart that was ruined. Showed me the past ain’t a tattoo, loved me even when you didn’t have to.”

“Sam.” You squeeze his hand to get his attention.

He squeezes back in acknowledgment. “Hm?”

“I want you to look at something.” You swallow back the emotion that tries to seep into your voice, but it catches his attention all the same.

He leans up and lifts his hat from his head, setting it aside near the radio. He then reaches to turn a dial back, lowering the music’s volume to give you his full attention.

You release his hand, raising yours up as he turns back to face you. You don’t say anything at first, nearly too lost in your own mind to realize you need to actually voice your developing thoughts.

"What—what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Your hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in your line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above you. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow your less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', your pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along your exposed wrist where your sleeve had slipped back, he takes your hand in his again and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." You say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." You nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting you. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

You scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh. "No—no I mean—like... what's another name for it... Oh, it's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but you cut him off before he can start. "But no. No, this isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in your overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Your frown is audible in your voice as you latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at your over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, honey, I promise."

You huff, but begrudgingly shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention.”

Sam’s brow furrows as you continue to explain, realization setting in that you really are being serious.

“I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...And there you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places and people that I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, at Wonderworld, surrounded by the ghost of him. Your warmth, your presence, your aura—even with all of your walls up, you outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me home."

In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand squeezes yours tight, his urgent tone pulling you out of your thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

You look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, faint shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

You reach out, pulling him down into you. He falters for a moment at the sudden proximity, but quickly embraces you in turn. Burying your face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear your words, muffled against the thick flannel, but his hearing catches them just fine.

"Don't burn out too quickly. Please. I still need you here. I don't—I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

The words feel like a weight being lifted from your shoulders, but with it comes a flood of emotion they’d been holding back. You cry harder into him, and as much as it pains Sam to witness, he lets you feel it, for as long as you need.

Your fear of losing him manifests itself physically, nails curling and sharpening again. When he feels them prick his skin through the fabric of his shirt, he calls your name but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans further down into you, letting his weight ground you. “Darlin’, I am right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

As you eventually cry yourself out, enough wherewithal returns to you to realize that you should probably release the poor man from your grasp, and the awkward position you pulled him into. When he pulls away enough to see your face, you notice a string of snot running from your nose to his shirt collar. Quickly batting it away out of embarrassment, you cringe, voice thick as you apologize. “Eugh, gross. Uh… sorry. About that.”

He shakes his head, laughing good-naturedly as you wipe at your nose with your jacket sleeve. “It’s completely fine, honey. After all, I’ve been covered in plenty of your, uh… various fluids before. When you come from my line of work, this is child’s play.”

He leans to his right, reaching back and pulling—of all things—a handkerchief from his jeans’ left back pocket. You laugh at his words, and at the sight, but with how congested you are it turns into more of a hacking cough than anything. Accepting his offering, you blow your nose into the black patterned fabric.

As soon as you can speak somewhat clearly, you can’t stop the teasing remark that slips out of you, gesturing with the wad of fabric in your hand. “You know, you really aren’t beating the cowboy allegations with stuff like this.”

He rolls his eyes but his soft smile remains. “It’s a practical thing to have on me, ‘allegations’ be damned.”

You shake your head with a smile of your own, but don’t disagree. As you’re visibly unsure what to do with the dirtied fabric, he takes it from you, setting it aside. “I’ll toss it in the wash when we go back inside. Along with my shirt, and…” He eyes you for a moment. “…that jacket of yours too, given how long you’ve probably been wearin’ it.”

Normally you’d argue that it hasn’t been that long, but come to think of it, you actually can’t recall when you last washed the thing.

Reaching up and rubbing your temples, you already regret your crying fit as a headache begins to set in. “Fuck, Sam... I’m sorry for… whatever that just was. I don’t know what came over me.”

His expression falls into something serious again. “You never need to apologize for feeling. And it certainly seems like… you needed to feel that.”

You nod quietly, but don’t elaborate, prompting him to question you gently. “Darlin’. What was that about? The—the askin’ me not to leave. Are you… afraid that I’m gonna leave you?”

You close your eyes, weighing out your response. “…Not in the sense that you’ll break up with me or something, no.”

His gaze narrows and his head tilts as he rolls your answer over in his mind. “If it ain’t that, then—” He remembers how you mentioned ‘forever’ and cuts himself off as the puzzle pieces start coming together. “Oh. …Oh, Darlin’, no.”

You open your eyes to watch as he shifts from leaning next to you, moving to sit up beside you. “Is this about what I told you, when we sat up here and had our uh… turning discussion?”

You hate to admit it, but you nod in confirmation. “…It’s your choice, Sam, and I never want to take that away from you. I shouldn’t have said what I just did, I—I don’t want to make you feel guilty, or like you have to stick around for my sake. But I’d be lying to you if I said it hasn’t been playing on my mind. The thought of you… leaving. Like that.”

He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “I… think I maybe should’ve been a bit more clear, when I said that. Because I wasn’t talking about any time soon. I didn’t want to give you the false impression that I plan on sticking around for centuries, but… I also wasn’t trying to imply that I’ve got plans to do it next week either.”

You bolt upright, voice cracking. “Next week?! I sure as shit hope not!” You grab your head, pain flaring and suddenly dizzy from the quick shift in position.

He places a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “I’m not, honey, I’m not. Did you catch the rest of my sentence? I’ve got no plans to leave this world any time soon. I promise.”

You groan, head pounding. “I heard you, I did, I just—fuck, I don’t even wanna think about you leaving so soon. Here I am, stressing, thinking I’ve only got—I don’t know—some odd years left with you, and…” You sigh, trailing off.

Sam stays quiet for a minute, letting the crickets sing.

Eventually, he interrupts their chorus. “…Can I get closer to you?”

You nod. “…Please.”

He closes the gap between you, carefully wrapping a strong arm around your curled shoulders. “You’ve got way more than a couple years. I promise you that.” Your tension begins to ease a bit as he clarifies. “You… you’ve helped me find a life that I actually feel like livin’ again, for the first time in a long time. And I want to experience it with you for as long as I can.”

“…Really?” Your voice sounds so small, so unsure, so… unlike you when you question him that he wants to kick himself in his own ass for the role he unintentionally played in making you feel this way.

“Yes. Really. I mean—” His voice takes on an edge of humor. “If you decide to set your sights on the year 3,000…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. But as far as the 21st century is concerned? …I think I’d like to see it through. For as long as you’re there to see it with me.”

His words cause fresh tears to well up in your eyes, and you sniff in an attempt to hold them back. The sound catches his attention, and he leans forward, thumbing across your warm cheek. “…I’m makin’ you cry again…”

You shake your head, clearing your throat. “No—No, it’s okay. It’s good. They’re… they’re good. It’s… relief.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh of his own. “Yeah?”

You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah.”

As you rest against each other, breathing in the cool night air, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Can we… lay back? For a bit?”

He squeezes your arm in gentle confirmation. “Of course.”

He twists and reaches back to straighten the wrinkled blanket beneath you, before laying out across it himself. The radio crackles as he turns the volume back up a bit. Watching him with tired eyes, you smile at the sight of him patting his chest in habitual invitation.

“Sit in and watch the sunlight fade. Honey, enjoy, it’s gettin’ late. There’s no plan. There’s no hand on the reign. As Mack explained, there will be darkness again.”

Curling up against his side and laying your head on his chest, you release a heavy sigh when his hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. As his fingers press rhythmically into the tense muscle beneath them, you breathe in his scent. Black coffee and wildflower honey… he smells like home.

“Your secret is safe with me, and if secrets were like seeds, when I’m lyin’ under marble, marvel at flowers you’ll have made.”

You reach your hand out across his broad chest, slipping beneath his open flannel and sliding down to rest on his waist. He sighs, relaxing further beneath your touch.

“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand. That’s how I know now that you understand.”

Yeah, you’ll take this over ‘luxury’ any damn day.

“There’s no plan. There’s no race to be run.”

Laying there with him, listening to the low hum of the radio, the moment grows so comfortable that you almost hesitate to break it.

“The harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song.”

“…Sam?” You whisper into the night.

His hand sweeps across your back before returning to your shoulder. “I’m here, Darlin’.”

“There’s no plan. There’s no kingdom to come.”

You smile. “I… I’d like to be there, to be here, to see it through with you, too.”

It takes him a moment to recall exactly what you’re referring to, but when it hits him he hums a low understanding tone, clearly pleased. “Then let’s see where it takes us, yeah?”

“But I’ll be your man if you got love to get done.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve got plenty a’ time.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my extensive notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. My Sam & Darlin' Playlist My Sam Playlist My Darlin' Playlist My Sam & Darlin' Moodboard My Sam Moodboard My Darlin' Moodboard Header Image Credit: Gage Smith on Unsplash

[redclown19]

[eshithepetty]

So.

This is it, mobsters.... our final stand. When the poll starts on @autismswagsummit, go....... do your part.

[Short ID: a comic pertaining to the autism swag summit, featuring Mob and Tome. Mob reveals that he feels insecure about how seriously everyone's been taking this, and how he's not sure he likes all this attention on him for it, but Tome argues and encourages him, saying that his could help him get Tsubomi's attention, since she's autistic herself, and might appreciate Mob being more confident about that. In the end, Mob brightens up, and gets pumped to win the bracket, before it's revealed that Tsubomi actually hopes Papyrus wins. End short ID]

Extended ID under cut:

[ID: a comic pertaining to the autism swag summit, featuring Mob and Tome. It's done in pink and orange tones, except for the last panel, which is purple.

First page: Mob sits down at the table in the telepathy club room, sighing. Tome, who is playing a video game and eating fries, looks at him and asks: "? What's wrong, Mob?" Mob looks to the side, eyes downcast, and says: "It's nothing really... it's just- the autism contest thing. Everyone's taking it so seriously but- idk. It feels weird. Like Mezato-san's cult thing, kinda." Tome, meanwhile, slides him the fries, and he takes one, and continues, "I don't think I like all this attention on me. Not for this." and Tome looks at him, chin on hand, and asks: "But wasn't that like, one of your main goals? To be popular?"

Second page: at this, Mob startles, and in the next panel he shrinks in as he replies "um- yeah, but. To be honest, I only wanted that to-" and shrinks even further in the next, blushing, trailing off with "to..." Behind him, there is the tapping of footsteps as Tome, off screen, rounds the desk, and makes Mob jump with a loud SLAM, and yells "LISTEN, MOB!" Then, she is looking at him with a frown, gesturing with one hand, and continues: "You need to look at this from a different perspective. What if this is the contest that winning would aid you the most? After all, isn't Takane herself autistic?" Mob, eyes wide and blushing, loudly interrupts with "S-SHE IS??"

Third page: Mob asks, "How do you know??" Tome, her arms crossed, eyes closed and a smirk on her face, says "Look. I'm autistic. You're autistic. We're ALL autistic, I know my kin, alright?" Under her breath, (under the speech bubble) she also adds "Plus I kind of heard her say "Leave me alone, I'm autistic" once," before she interrupts herself, her arms spread wide and flapping, with "but that's beside the point!" She continues in the next panel, only one of her moving hands visible as Mob looks up at her, wide-eyed, "My point is, maybe this is your chance to show her what you're all about; that you know who you are; are secure in your identity, proud of it, even!"

Fourth page: Tome crosses her arms again, a confident smirk on her face as she looks down at Mob and asks, "So tell me. What are you gonna do?" Mob, hunched in, shyly responds, ".... I'm gonna win...?" Off screen, Tome replies: "Say it with more confidence!" And Mob does, back straightening and a blush creeping in: "I- I'm gonna win!" Tome yells "Louder!", and Mob stands up, leaning on the table, yelling in response "I'm gonna WIN!!" And Tome, a fist pumped in enthusiasm, yells back "YEAH!!"

Last panel: Tome's dialogue box is cut off, as we see Tsubomi, meanwhile, laying in her bed, sucking a lollipop and phone in hand, as she thinks: "I hope papyrus wins." End ID.]

[venstm]

so, for anyone who saw my previous post tonight one of our pipes burst which has caused a great deal of damage to a lot of our house. we're doing all we can to try and clean up on our own but if anyone can help by donating that would be immensely appreciated. i spent the last few hours alternating between wanting to cry and scooping water into our bath to try and minimalize the damage.

i'll add the link here and some photos under the cut so people can see what has happened.

[ask-trialduo]

fun fact! chara's eyes are inspired by tsu.kasa yu.gi from my absolute favorite toilet manga <33

[bandsandwristbands]

This is your last warning, share the fic or else ☠️☠️🔪

(any fic you're comfortable enough to share sweetie 🥰)

so I've been angsting about how much is too much to drop as a snippet, like I'd be giving you a whole chapter from the middle of a long ass fic, or spoiling the end, or dropping a few highlights out of context??

so i guess I will drop the a scene my partner chose at random lol Light spoilers for Backyard Heathens (My religious Sunan slow burn gaalee that I have not posted or finished yet 🙃)

Gaara’s swamped in paperwork; drowning in preemptive piles of legislature that he wishes could wait until after the coming festivities. The council is stubborn in their grip to hold on to ‘tradition’ but getting funding for the yearly celebration before the rainy seasons was like pulling teeth. The old fogies can’t stand to see the general morale of Suna’s citizens rising every season. Namely, they don’t like to see the younger people having fun. They have a scarcity mindset despite growing technological advancements and stronger trade agreements. 

Suffice to say, they relented in the budget but Gaara is now being punished with the duty of reallocating remaining funds appropriately. He’s trying to remember if the irrigation system will need maintenance soon when Kankuro trudges dramatically into the Kazekage office without knocking. 

“What is it?” Gaara offers flatly.

“You’re such a grumpy bitch this week. You could at least pretend-” Gaara rolls his eyes to his brother in a sharp glare, “Fine, fine. I see you’re busy but I need to drag you out into the daylight for a bit. Fazluna needs you to meet her at the front to go over the security rotations for the festival.”

“The front office?” Gaara asks but he’s already tossing the irrigation logs onto his ‘in progress pile’ to be dealt with later.

Kankuro offers a sympathetic look and leans against the door frame expectantly, “Sorry, kid. Front of the village.”

Gaara gets up and mutters that he ought to check the irrigation himself anyways, but the way he sighs begrudgingly says enough about his displeasure. 

“Come onnnnnn, some sun is actually good for you, yknow? Besides, I thought you were excited about this year, it’s the big one for you!” Kankuro’s tone is teasing as they walk. 

Gaara can admit that sun feels good, but it’s higher humidity these days, the first streaks of clouds forming stringy in the bright sky, and Gaara does not  appreciate the sweat forming on his back and neck. His jacket clings uncomfortably, but he can’t remove it because a plain shirt is improper for a young kage like himself. 

“It’s not as if this one will be any different.“ Gaara finally grumbles once the towering entrance to Suna is within his sight. 

“Think you won’t get any suitors brave enough to approach you?” Kankuro teases.

Gaara huffs derisively, “Hopefully not. I’m not interested anyways.”

Kankuro gives him a sidelong glance like he knows something Gaara doesn’t. “Not anyone from here you mean.” He titters obviously, “You’re just grumpy ‘cause none of your friends can make it.” Before Gaara can respond, they're stopping next to Fazluna just outside the Sand stone walls. They immediately launch into a very dull and standard recounting of the shift changes for the festival and Gaara is getting irritated now. They clearly don’t need Gaara for this and Kankuro dragged him away from a full desk of work for nothing. And to add insult, he had to remind Gaara why his mood was so sour. 

Although Gaara is grateful to have so many friends, he is actually kind of upset that no one can make it over to Suna for this particular one. It’s a big deal for most in his culture, a coming of age sort of thing. The Squall is supposed to symbolize renewal. Death and nurturing the seeds of rebirth. It’s also a time of indulgence, a brief reprieve from the dry, barren heat, where water is plentiful and one is free to celebrate excess. And at Gaara’s current age, people are allowed to publicly court him. 

He dreads that part. He doesn’t want to be running away from groupies (Kankuros phrasing) or politically motivated dignitaries. He wants to be able to celebrate with people he actually likes. Most of his closer friends have learned to play guard dog at these functions so even just one would be a comfort. Gaara understands regardless. They’re all busy in their own villages with their own obligations and missions. Even in a time of peace, he finds everyone pulled in many directions. It hadn’t really bothered him until he got his response letter from Lee, confirming he wouldn’t be able to sneak over to Suna in time. He apologized profusely even though Gaara had omitted the importance of this year specifically. He tries to tell himself he doesn’t feel a bit sad and a bit emptier, he already knew after all, expected the answer but he offered the invitation anyways. Lee is a bad influence on him sometimes. Gaara struggles with expectations, and he stumbles with Lee the most. Maybe it’s best Lee can’t make it then. Gaara can focus on the practical aspects and-

“Hey,” Kankuro slaps Gaara’s shoulder with the back of his hand, interrupting Gaara’s internal spiral, “What’s that?” 

Gaara blinks and follows the direction of Kankuro’s lazy point to the open desert before them. He squints against the melting mirages on the horizon and barely makes out a cloud of sand. For a moment Gaara stiffens in alarm because whatever this is, it’s approaching fast. He wasn’t warned of anyone coming to the village today, maybe one of his teams wrapped up early?? 

Then, in a blink, a flash of green in the kicked up sand. Gaara’s eyes go so wide they burn a bit, in disbelief even as he focuses his chakra out to sense who it was. The ninja beside him had stopped talking and Gaara turns his confused stare to his brother. He smirks back at him and snatches the kage hat off of the younger’s head. 

“Is that-?” Gaara wheezes.

“Yeah, Go get him!” Kankuro says it like Gaara is stupid but he’s smiling and nods towards the growing dust devil and Gaara doesn’t even think about it. 

His feet break into a sprint against his will. His gourd is tossed to the side in a rush. He’s not nearly as fast as the approaching ninja and sand begins pushing at his feet like it can propel him a bit faster. His skin is buzzing, he’s so sweaty and his face just gets hotter as Rock Lee comes into focus clearer and clearer. 

Lee pushes himself to slow down as he approaches the walls of Suna, but his heart is dancing around his chest in nervous excitement and by the time he processes the redhead running right towards him he can’t withhold his shout of excitement. 

“Gaara-kun!” He exclaims loud enough he’s sure it carried well into the village. However, once he really looks at Gaara, hair shining brightly in the midday, pretty blue eyes wide and locked directly on Lee, he almost stumbles. Suddenly it is difficult to pull in a full breath as Gaara leaps up, propelled by sand on his heels. His head blots out the sun for a brief second, but Lee can see it in slow motion, knows he’ll never forget this instant. Backlit by sunrays like a halo, eyes almost glowing when they curve up at the corners and one dimple obvious as he beams. Gaara lands right in Lee’s outstretched arms, squinting like he can’t contain the grin on his face. Lee thinks he has never seen anything so beautiful. 

They collide heavily, Gaara gasping like he’s had the wind knocked out of him as Lee skids them both to a stop. He uses the momentum to spin Gaara in a quick circle as he trips over his feet. Sand comes up to steady their intertwined weight and Lee thinks he must be smiling so hard it looks like a grimace.

An elated laugh bubbles up and out and into sweaty red hair that sticks to his chin and mouth. Lee squashes Gaara against him just a bit tighter, not sure if it’s too hard. Gaara is huffing into his neck, trying to catch his breath after a rather impressive sprint from him! And Lee can’t help another happy spin before finally releasing him onto the ground. 

Gaara lands gracefully as always, light as a grain of sand atop the shifting desert. And it’s all they can do but stare at each other in disbelief and Lee feels speechless. He watches Gaara slowly relax into a much calmer demeanor, like he’s caught himself, but he’s still got a dusting of pink across his cheeks. The corners of his mouth quirk up like he can’t quite contain it. It is rare to see Gaara so excited. Lee thrills at being the cause.

“I apologize for dropping by so last minute…” Lee manages to say on a nervous exhale. He had really thought Gaara might be mad at the surprise but the young Kazekage just shakes his head at the apology. He eyes Lee like he still isn’t sure if he’s really there. 

“I thought you couldn’t make it?” Gaara finally says, no pleasantries, a straight shooter like always. His tone is light, though, almost airy, and it gives him away.