#happy no one knows who dies at the end year to everyone who celebrates

[tending-the-hearth]

reread "they both die at the end" and just had to pull out the top five quotes that stabbed me through the heart and destroyed my soul because if i had to read these lines so do all of you <3

"If we had our entire lives ahead of us I bet you'd get tired of me telling you how much I love you because I'm positive that's the path we were heading on. But because we're about to die, I want to say it as many times as I want--I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I would've loved you if we had more time.”

“I kiss my Last Friend, because the world can't be against us, if it brought us together.”

'"Maybe it’s better to have gotten it right and been happy for one day instead of living a lifetime of wrongs.' He’s right about everything. We rest our heads on his pillows. I’m hoping we die in our sleep; that seems like the best way to go.”

“And then I crossed the street, with no arm to hold me back.”

[rubyvhs]

who’d believe? | dean winchester

summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.

You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to. 

"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.

The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them). 

An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree. 

You should really work on saying no.

Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.

"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."

You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."

"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"

Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”

"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way. 

"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.

"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"

You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI. 

The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean. 

There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.

But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.

The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.

"Right, yes. Hi, Officer." 

She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.

"Are you fucking serious?"

You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"

"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"

"Is that not what they say anymore?"

"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way. 

You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends. 

Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.

By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.

"Look, I don't know what happened—"

"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times. 

But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.

But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.

"I'm—"

"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever. 

"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one. 

In your defense, everyone knows.

"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes. 

Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers. 

You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.

He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you." 

He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.

"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."

You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth. 

He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.

His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever. 

This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw. 

"We— Dean, can't here—" 

He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing. 

Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right." 

"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?

He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"

"Are you asking me to not stay?" 

He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance. 

"De, someone can see—"

"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."

He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over. 

"Can't believe you're here, and all for me." 

"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."

"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently. 

"Yes."

When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares. 

Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest. 

"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you." 

He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."

You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—

He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot. 

You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out. 

He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.

The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.

Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience. 

It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest. 

He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—" 

Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?" 

You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'. 

[thannydevotee]

hello 2 all my favorite jrwieners. momentarily breaking the condi character streak to let you all know rand is jewish. ive got a lot of headcannons in the tags for this one

for every night of hanukkah im gonna make another jrwi character jewish. just as a heads up. and you're not allowed to tell me im wrong or its antisemitism

[farfromharry]

new year, new man 🏎️ ln4

Summary: you meet Lando for the first time after being dragged to a new year’s eve party. safe to say you didn’t hate this new year as much as the rest.

W/c - 1485

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

You were far from a fan of celebrating the new year. It wasn’t much of a holiday for you, rather than a period of a couple days that made you sad. You spent too long focusing on how it felt like time was moving too fast and you were getting old and by the time midnight arrived you’d successfully brought down everyone else’s moods.

For that very reason you were planning to stay home and mope in your room to greet 2024. But it seemed your friends had other plans.

“I don’t want to go to a party,” you huffed.

The brunette at the end of your bed rolled her eyes. “And I told you, I don’t care what you want, you’re going.” She tossed a dress at you and stood there expectantly.

From out in the hallway you could hear one of your other friends calling for you. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun.”

You knew there was nothing you could do. They wouldn’t leave unless it was with you following behind them. Part of you was warmed by the fact they wanted you around, but another part of you was irritated that they couldn’t just let you be in your misery. You wished you would have been more stubborn.

An hour or so later and you were stepping into a complete stranger’s home where a party was in full swing.

A drink was quickly passed into your hands and within minutes you were left alone sitting in a quiet corner. Your friends had failed to let you know that this party was being hosted by a friend of theirs, with some of their other mutual friends in attendance. Maybe you would have put up a bigger fight if you’d have known you wouldn’t know anyone here and yet they would know everyone.

It was awkward, you standing there, drink in hand and eyes darting around the place at all the strangers. You must have looked so out of place.

“Do you mind if I join you?” A voice startled you out of your daydream. You were getting ready to turn them away when you locked eyes with one of the most attractive men you swore you’d ever seen. Your heart began to beat a little faster. “All the other seats are taken by couples basically swallowing each other. Figured this is the least awkward place to sit.”

You managed to laugh, like a real laugh. You were surprised that a random guy had managed to make you feel even slightly happy for the first time tonight.

“No, you’re fine. I sat here to get away too.”

It was silent for a brief moment and you cursed yourself for being so antisocial.

“Not enjoying the party?” he asked.

You perked up at the chance to talk to him again. “Uh, not really. Unless it’s your party, then it’s great. I’m having so much fun.”

He chuckled. “It’s not my party. Friend of a friend. I don’t really know anyone here.”

There were butterflies in your stomach. Could this man get any better? “Me either.”

He seemed pleased by that, like he’d needed to know he wasn’t alone in feeling awkward and uncomfortable in order for it to dissipate. “Well now you know me.” He held his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Lando.”

You smiled. “Y/N.”

The pair of you were only talking for a short while when he was approached by a clearly drunk man. “Lando Norris!” Was all he said, rather cheerfully, shaking hands with the man beside you. Lando smiled, nodding to the stranger before he left.

You watched the interaction with a furrowed brow.

“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone here?”

He looked at you with a shy grin. “I don’t. I have no idea who that was.”

The revelation made you laugh, louder than it probably should have, but you would blame the alcohol for that one. He quickly joined in, the 2 of you trading giggles in a secluded corner as everyone partied around you.

When your laughter died down and you wiped a few stray tears, you took a long look at Lando. “I’m actually really glad I came tonight.”

He took that to mean you were happy to have met and spent your time with him. “Me too. Maybe we could do this again sometime, but in an environment we both like. Somewhere quiet, like dinner?”

“I think I’d like that.”

Going into the new year it looked as though you’d be getting a shot at love, or at the very least a nice, new friendship. Maybe new year did bring good things sometimes.

As you noticed the minutes ticking closer to midnight and the party getting rowdier, you ached to convince Lando to move somewhere that wasn’t right in the middle of the busy crowd. You were unsure if he would, given that the atmosphere would change so drastically, but what was the harm in asking.

He looked at you as you stood from your seat, worried that you might be about to present him with an excuse to leave early.

“Come with me,” you instructed, holding your hand out for him to take. He eyed it, feigning hesitance.

He hummed. “I don’t know. My mum’s always telling me about stranger danger.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.”

Lando didn’t waste another second, slipping his hand into yours and allowing you to blindly lead him through the maze of people. He didn’t expect you to take him outside into the garden where it was much quieter. There was no one out here but the 2 of you and a couple stray drunk people.

“Much better,” you sighed. “I finally feel like I can hear myself think.”

As the moonlight fell upon you he believed you looked even more beautiful than you had inside. He was slightly in awe. His daze was momentarily broken when he noticed you shiver, the cold chill of the December air being unforgiving to your bare skin. There was only one thing that would be right for him to do as the gentleman his mother raised.

“Here, take my jacket.”

Your mouth opened to protest but the stern look he gave you told you he wasn’t willing to hear any of it. So instead you let him place it over your shoulders, his warmth and scent immediately making your body heat up to a comfortable temperature.

“Thank you.”

He brushed it off. “Not a problem.”

Now that there was no overly loud background chatter from those inside, a lull in conversation meant things got awkward, fast. Or at least on your part. You weren’t sure what you could say now and that led you to a panic about whether he was thinking about how silent you were being.

In reality, he was working up the courage to ask if he could kiss you. In the end it was the lack of time to deliberate that led him to just blurting it out.

He was afraid you’d be mad, considering you hadn’t met that long ago, but actually you were just happy he’d pulled you out of your nervous thoughts— even if his question gave you nerves for a whole different reason.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I could kiss you at midnight?”

You pretended to think it over, taking a step closer to him so that your fronts were pressed together. His eyes were rapidly looking over your features. Between your eyes and your lips, like he couldn’t make his mind up about where he wanted to focus. In the end he settled for your eyes.

“I might be persuaded.”

And then the countdown began.

As the clock struck midnight Lando made his move and closed the gap between the 2 of you. His large hand on your jaw was more or less guiding you through the sweet kiss, a gesture which made your knees even weaker than they already had been.

The cheers of the party inside were what brought the 2 of you back to the present.

Your face burned as you eyed the crowd, wondering if any of your friends had noticed you sneaking off with the handsome stranger to steal a kiss. You hoped they didn’t, because truly you wouldn’t be able to escape the mountain of questions they’d have for you.

He must have noticed you were slightly distracted, taking the initiative to gently guide your gaze back to him. The corner of his mouth curved upwards when your eyes met.

“Happy new year,” he mumbled, brushing his nose lightly across yours. It was a tender move for a man you’d met only a short hour ago.

You beamed, maybe you’d get the chance to know him a little more this year. “Happy new year.”

It looked like 2024 was already going to be a good year.

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

[theblue6ook]

A Quiet Day

Summary: Bruce does not like celebrating his birthday. All of the pomp and circumstance was very “Bruce Wayne Bachelor,” but it wasn’t him. He wants quiet, he wants easy, he wants focus. So Y/N gives him that.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: I tried to add everyone who wanted to be on the tag list, but let me know if I missed you! [B (24) & Y/N (22)]

“Happy Birthday, Master Bruce,” he heard Alfred over the speaker system. 

Bruce couldn’t help but gaze at the digital clock built into his car console. Well, maybe a tank console? Lucious Fox said it was called the Tumbler, but the name just didn’t feel right to him. It was a birthday present he had told Bruce, and Bruce would call it what he liked... when he thought of a name. He was patrolling, as he does, except this time, he would take his new Waynetech Tank out for a spin. Nope, that name feels wrong too.

“Thank you, Alfred.” 

“Anything special planned this year, sir.”

“You know there’s not,” he chuckled.

“I wasn’t sure if you were getting bold with birthdays,” he could feel Alfred's grin, “considering what an extravagant time Ms. Y/N had.” 

“Just doing something nice for a friend, Alfred.”

Friend. That was nice to say. It’s easy to make friends when you’re a twenty-three - well, now a twenty-four-year-old billionaire. Bruce had never been low on friendships, but he had been low on real friendships. Of course, he had good friends. Rachel, Alfred, Lucius, and Jack Drake, to name a few, but that was all before The Bat. After he had left Gotham, he’d been through a lot. He’d been alone a lot. None of them would ever understand what he went through, who he was now. When he had trained, you’d be "assigned" friends. People you had to work with, save. He had met people who would and had died for him. How can you come back to trivial friendships after that?

And when you don’t water something, it dies. So, friendships slowly crumbled. Shriveled away. It wasn’t in a huge, dramatic way, but in a lost touch way. People didn’t want to deal with the Bruce Wayne he really was, a workaholic, stressed, easily annoyed, quick, and yet she didn’t care.

Y/N had come along, and he was used to the petty fights, people making up their minds, even leaving. They'd slowly given up on him. But she didn’t. They could fight all day long, and by the end, he’d be frustrated, grabbing his coat and announcing it was the end of the day for him. She’d look up at him and say, "See you tomorrow."

Once, he had questioned her about it, half joking and half not, “You’re not going to walk out and never come back?” 

She had looked at him strangely and scoffed, “Bruce, it’s fine if we argue and argue and move on. That’s friendship. That’s life.”

“That’s life?” he had asked sarcastically.

“Yeah. Now get over it and get out,” she had smirked at him.

So, they fight, and they move on, and they fight, and they move on, and Bruce doesn’t mind at all. At the end of the day, he knows he’ll see her the next, and then he does. It’s consistent, and god knows he could use some consistency. 

“A good friend gives back,” Alfred stated. “Maybe she’ll plan you a party.”

God, he hopes not.

-

Y/N had been conspiring. Bruce had made her birthday like nothing she had ever imagined, and even if her ex-finance had soiled the evening, she was grateful. So she wanted to do something special for him, except… he didn’t really seem like he wanted to do anything. Everyone in the office was talking about The Bruce Wayne’s birthday except for Bruce Wayne himself. 

Y/N knew she never typically saw his party side, aside from him hopping into the fountain at The Ocelot. The Bruce she knew was more reserved, quiet, and calculated. Plus, when it came to the topic of his birthday, it’s like he shut the complete conversation down. So, how do you plan something for the one person who wants nothing?

You don’t.

At least you don’t plan a party; you make the day itself special. Bruce hated meetings, so she moved them. He loved the bagel place she showed him down by Dorthie’s Flowers, so she scheduled a nice lunch. The last time she was in Dorthie’s, John had told her that violets were Bruce’s birth flower, so she put some in the office. Finally, for the last hour of their workday, she had a cake, nothing special, she had made it with Carrie last night, and a few birthday cards. 

She was nervous as hell. Giving something to the man who can afford everything is more nerve-wracking than she thought it would be. 

Bruce had arrived at his typical noon timeline. He stepped into the office with caution, just praying what had happened in the past years wouldn’t happen today. When he did occasionally come into the office years ago, past assistants and coworkers would plan some Bruce Wayne Birthday Happy Hour where everyone would get plastered, and he would sneak off annoyed. He knew Y/N knew him better than that. Or at least he hoped she did.

When he stepped into the office, there were no decorations, no music, and no surprises so far. He let out a breath. There was Y/N battling it out on the phone like she usually is. She waved at him and mouthed to him I can’t do phone calls anymore, rolling her eyes. He chuckled, stepping into his office.

Violets.

It wasn’t abnormal for Y/N to grab flowers for the office. She was dear friends with his florist, but violets made him think of his mother. Every birthday, his mother would go through the grueling tale of his birth just to tease him. 

“Thomas, you don’t get to laugh. You were no help!” she squealed. “Anyways, my dear Brucie. I was in the worst pain of my life bringing you into this world. All I wanted was my ice chips when our doctor started going on about birth flowers to distract me.”

“It annoyed her to no end-”

“Stop interrupting me, Thomas,” she had giggled, and Bruce had done the same. “Anyways, I was trying to bring you into this world, and he tells me, ‘ma’am it sounds like your son’s birth flower will be a violet. I never cared for violets.’ And I thought, what a terrible thing to say to a mother. So I kicked him out, and the nurse and I worked hard for you.” 

“She’s not joking, son.”

“But now, every birthday I just have to douse the house in violets for my sweet Brucie.”

 Bruce stepped closer, touching the edge of the petals with his fingertips. It had been a while since he’d been given any flowers... but violets, he was sure he had only gotten them from Mama.

There was a light cough behind him, and he turned to see a bashful Y/N. “So, no meetings today, but we have some paperwork to go through.”

“No meetings?” he questioned. That would be a first.

“Yeah, this donator work really should take priority,” she tried to act casually. “Oh, and I was going to run to Upper East Bagel later if you want to come.”

“We’re not getting delivery?”

“Well, it’s nice outside,” she started innocently. Bad lie, she thought. It’s February. It’s never nice. “I figured I’d walk, but if you want me to go by myself I can grab something for you.”

Bruce scoffed, “You’re not walking by yourself in Gotham.”

She grinned. Bait taken. 

For the few hours before lunch, they worked on paperwork. The donator paperwork did take up a chunk of time. There were so many details like which benefits he needed to attend, which non-profits were approved for the Wayne Charity donation program, etc. He was whipped, and even worse, he was hungry. Stepping toward the door, he leaned on the frame. Y/N was digging through one of her bags, and he cleared his throat.

“Bageles?”

She grinned, “I’m literally starving.”

Y/N was excited, not just for the bagel, but because as soon as they walked down to get their lunch, Alfred was going to come and help her set up Bruce’s office. Again, nothing crazy, a cake, cards, and maybe a balloon. It was nothing that should take long. She even had everything in a tote bag under her desk. 

The bagel line wasn’t long, and they didn’t have any issues other than a few people recognizing Bruce and wishing him a happy birthday. When they did, he’d look at her curiously. While Y/N had no reaction, Bruce was suspicious. So, she knows it’s my birthday, and she hasn’t said anything. Not that Bruce cared about things like that, but Y/N wasn’t the type to forget or be silent on the subject. She had only glanced at him innocently, batting her lashes, “Should we eat lunch in the park?

Bruce humored her, so they sat in Gotham Park and ate their lunch. While the bagel was great, it was fucking freezing outside. Y/N looked over at Bruce, pleasantly eating his bagel. It didn't look like the cold had bothered him at all. Despite not being cold, the whole ordeal had Bruce's mind moving. God, please no office parties when we get back. 

He was on edge stepping back into the office, waiting for some insane ordeal… but nothing. They took the elevator straight up to his office, and walked in by Y/N’s desk and… nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she forgot and didn’t want to say anything. Y/N walked casually over to her desk and set her purse down while Bruce put the code into his office door and stepped inside. There was a balloon attached to his desk chair, a cake that was clearly not from a bakery, and cards. 

He chuckled, looking through them. One from Rachel and Harvey Dent, one from Alfred, one from Lucious, one from Jack Drake (who he hadn’t spoken to in so long), and one from Y/N. Except it wasn’t just from Y/N; her brothers had signed it with little notes and doodles, and Carrie had signed a nice message as well. 

It was so simple, so homely, and wonderful.

“Happy Birthday,” Y/N appeared behind him with a couple of paper dessert plates.

He looked at her but said nothing. In the best way, he didn’t know what to say, and suddenly she became nervous.

“I know it’s not much, and you probably have friends planning something crazy, but,” she paused, unsure of herself, “it’s just… you didn’t really seem like you wanted a party.” 

Bruce chuckled quietly. “I don’t,” he said honestly. “I’ve had friends plan a few insane things over the years, and I’m grateful, but I never really felt like celebrating my birthday without-” He stopped, a little embarrassed. “I sound like a child.”

“You don’t,” she stepped over to him, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Yeah, I do,” he mumbled.

“After my mother left, I tried to make birthdays special for my brothers, but my dad didn’t really celebrate, and neither did I,” she wasn’t sure why she was whispering. Maybe it was the close proximity between them, or maybe it was because she had never admitted what she was about to say aloud. “John, Carrie, even Russ, they all tried to make things special for me, but… I didn’t want to celebrate. I’d always leave early or fake a headache.”

“I didn’t know your mom left,” he replied back.

“I don’t really talk about it. It’s not like it’s a secret, but I don’t know. It feels so awkward to mention.”

“It’s awkward to mention your dead parents too,” he looked over at her, grinning. 

“At least you know they loved you,” she cringed like she regretted what she said. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“I get it,” he said honestly.

“So, cake,” she quickly diverted the topic.

Bruce smiled. A real true smile, “Cake.”

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt

[punksyeet]

- Drunken Love ❥

Plot: Gianna (OC) and Josh reunite after years and the feelings they once had for each other circle right back.

Warning: Hefty flirting, mature language, & smut!

"I'm so excited for your party tonight," I squeal excitedly, spreading butter on my toast.

Trin squeals as well, clapping her hands on my phone screen. "Me too girl! We're gonna get liiiiit!"

I giggle and dance in my seat.

One of my best friends and WWE colleagues, Trinity, is celebrating her 35th birthday at a local club tonight.

"Oh and how could I forget. You know who is gonna be there!" she teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

I roll my eyes playfully and take a bite of my omelette. "Girl you know I just ended things with Carmelo. I don't know if I'm ready to jump back into the dating world this quickly."

About a week ago, I found out through social media that my now ex boyfriend, another WWE colleague, Carmelo Hayes was seen making out with some random bitch at the club.

We were together for what was about to be 2 years, so naturally, I've been hurting a lot recently.

However, Trin's brother in law, Josh and I had a thing going a while back.

It mainly started professionally, when creative came up with the idea of making us playfully flirt whenever we crossed paths - whether it was ringside or during backstage segments.

But once he got traded back to SmackDown to reunite with his family, things kinda fell off.

My crush on him has never died down, though.

That man is beyond words fine, so I know I'll have to dress a little extra tonight.

She lets out a deep sigh. "I understand sis. And trust me when I say that I'd love to have you with us tonight, but if you still need time, I understand."

I give her a mean mug. "Girl you think I'm missing my best friend's birthday? The hell with my breakup, you know I stop at nothing for you ma'am!"

A smile forms on her lips. "This is why I love you girl."

I flick my hair off my shoulders. "I know."

We share a giggle and continue the phone call until it's time for us to get ready.

Once we finish sending our love and saying our goodbyes, I hang up, wash the dishes I used, and head up to my room to find an outfit.

I look in my drawers and find a matching denim corset and mini skirt. I pair the outfit with a black lace thong, and knee-high black boots.

Simple but seductive. Perfect.

————————————————————————————————————————

I just made it to where the party is happening.

After a little while of trying to find parking, I find a spot right behind Trin and her husband Jonathan's SUV.

I settle into the spot, grab the gift bag, lock my doors, and head to the building.

"Hey there," the bouncer says as I walk towards the entrance. "You here for Trinity's birthday?"

I smile, nodding. "How could you tell?"

He chuckles. "Well the gift bag was a hint, but I recognize you. Gianna Nicole right?"

I put my hands below my chin and smile. "That's me!"

He smiles, shaking his head. "Alrighty, enjoy your night. The party you're looking for is sat in the very back towards the left."

I smile sweetly before walking past him. "Thank you!"

As soon as I walk in, the deafening music and strong scent of alcohol slaps me in the face.

Taking a deep breath, I scan the swarm of people until I spot Trin dancing on Jon's lap and all the girls hyping her up.

I shake my head smiling, and head towards the group.

Once she sees me, she comes running over. "GIIIIII! YOU MADE IT!" she screams, running into my arms.

I laugh as we share a tight hug and kisses on the cheek.

"Happy birthday beautiful!" I coo, holding up the bag.

"Giiirl you didn't have to get me anything!" she squeals, taking it and pulling me into another embrace.

Once we pull away, hand in hand, we walk over to the group.

"Hey guys! Gi is here!" she announces.

Everyone cheers and some even walk up to greet me with hugs.

The people in attendance are: Jon of course, Josh, their brother Joseph aka Solo, his wife Almia, Joe aka Roman Reigns, his wife Galina, and Jade and Bianca with their husbands.

"It's good to see you again," Josh says sitting down, as everyone goes back to talking to each other. "You look amazing."

I smile sweetly, sitting next to him. "You too, Josh. It feels like it's been forever."

He chuckles, nodding in agreement. "It really does, huh?"

Throughout the night, we share some more small-talk alongside some shots with the group.

And soon enough, I'm drunk off my ass.

Eventually, the whole group heads to the dance floor.

"Come dance with me," I say, getting up and holding out my hand in front of Josh.

He looks up at me smirking, and takes it.

I lead us there, one thing leads to another, and eventually I'm twerking and dancing on him to the beat of "Give it Up to Me" by Sean Paul.

The entire time, he holds my waist and gives me light kisses on my neck.

Eventually I start to get dizzy, so we head back onto the couch, and he holds me in his lap with my arm wrapped around him.

"I-I'm gonna go to the b-bathroom," I manage to get out, before standing up and adjusting my skirt.

"You sure you're okay to go alone?" Trin asks, taking my hand.

I nod in response. "I'll be fine, girl. Don't let me ruin your fun."

We share a quick hug and I head off.

As I finish washing my hands, the door flies open and Josh's sexy ass walks through the door.

"Hey baby," he says sexily, walking up behind me and placing his hands on my waist.

"Hi," I reply, turning around and playing with his chain. "You have to pee too?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Nah. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You were goin crazy on ya boy out there."

I shrug, my lips forming a little bratty smirk. "Just enjoying what I've been wanting this whole time."

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

I nod, sliding my lower lip between my teeth gently, and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Well same goes for me mama," he replies, snaking his hands up and down my sides. "Once Trin told me you'd be here, I couldn't wait to see you."

"And why's that?" I tease, playing with his damp curly mullet.

He scans my body up and down slowly. "You look real good tonight baby. You down to come kick it with me upstairs for a bit?"

I smirk, raising an eyebrow. "As long as you make it worth my while."

A sexy smirk forms on his lips and he takes my hand, leading me out of the bathroom and upstairs to a VIP room.

** smut warning! **

As soon as we make it into the room, Josh shuts and locks it the door.

"Cmere baby," he says flirtatiously, grabbing my waist and pulling me in.

Our lips automatically clash together, the taste of liquor filling both of our tongues as they slide against each other.

After about two minutes of this, he takes a seat on the couch and pats his leg, signaling for me to sit with him.

I pull down my skirt and straddle him, throwing my arms around his neck and resuming the kiss.

"Fuck mama," he moans against my lips, grabbing handfuls of my ass. "I've been wanting to taste you for so long."

"Mmm baby you ain't tasted nothing yet," I reply, between kisses, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smirks and trails his wet lips down my neck.

I tilt my head to give him more access, moaning as his wet tongue and heavenly sucks go to work.

I reach under his shirt and pull it over his head, which he follows up with by pulling down the zipper of my corset and throwing it across the sofa, revealing my naked breasts.

"My god," he coos breathlessly, massaging and playing with them. "Your body is so fucking gorgeous."

I lean in and feather light kisses from his chest to under his ear and whisper into it. "Then fuck me already."

With just those four words, I suddenly feel his bulge against my inner thigh.

"Mmm," I moan, climbing off his lap and kneeling between his wide open legs. "He's so responsive to me already."

I rub and massage his hard dick through his jeans, as he joins me, and eventually takes it out.

And fitting for Joshua Fatu, this thing is huge.

I'm talking 8-9 inches at least.

So veiny with the most perfect curve.

And soon enough, it's down my throat and covered in my saliva, with Josh's fingers tangled into my hair, guiding my head up and down.

"Fuuuuuck princess," he moans, breathlessly. "Your mouth is so fucking dangerous."

"Cum in my mouth daddy," I coo, between kisses to his tip. "Cum so deep inside your baby girl's mouth and let her swallow every last drop."

And that he does.

Fuck does he taste incredible.

Once I swallow the warm liquid, I stand between his legs, slowly slide my thong down, and throw it across the room.

He scans my now completely exposed body up and down, leaned back against the couch and trying to catch his breath.

Moments later, he pats the cushion next to him. "Come sit ma. Face down, ass up for me."

Immediately following his orders, I climb onto the couch on all fours, and slowly lean down against the sofa, arching my back nice and deep for him.

"Such a good girl for me," he mutters, and slaps my ass. Hard.

I gasp at the sudden feeling.

Moments later, I feel his wet tongue enter me and start eating me out from behind.

"Ohhh fuck Josh," I moan breathlessly, my face pressed against the cushion.

His tongue moves faster and faster with every moan that exits me, and eventually, I hit my climax and cum all over his tongue.

** smut over! **

My mouth hanging open, I flop onto the couch.

He chuckles and leans down, his cold chain brushing against my back, giving me goosebumps.

"You feel good mama?" he asks in my ear, and proceeds to gently lift my face and pull me in for a sloppy kiss.

"Mhmmm," I reply, automatically kissing back, and tugging at his bottom lip as we pull away.

"You taste crazy baby," he says, lifting me onto his lap so that I'm straddling him once more. "Better than Waffle House.....did I just say that?"

I shake my head, smiling. "Knowing how obsessed you are with that damn place, I must taste pretty damn good then."

He chuckles breathlessly and nods.

We kinda just stare into each other's eyes for a second, before he looks down at my lips.

"What?" I ask shyly, playing with his curly mullet.

"I can't admire you?" he teases, rubbing my lower back. "I just ate your brains out and now I can't just look at you?"

I roll my eyes playfully. "Not when your eyes are that dreamy, Joshua Fatu."

"Ain't nobody as dreamy as you princess," he replies.

He leans in and we share yet another steamy makeout.

Our tongues collide so perfectly in sync, almost as if I've been with him this entire time.

He's so fucking perfect.

** smut warning! ** (again)

"You tryna ride me baby?" he whispers in my ear, giving me hickeys down my neck.

"Mhm," I reply, sitting up.

He stops me in my tracks. "Use your words mama."

I take a deep breath before replying. "Y-yes daddy. I wanna ride you."

He nods, smirking and stroking my cheek. "Good girl. Now go get your dick baby."

I sit up and line his dick up with my clit.

I slowly and gently lower myself onto him, becoming more and more of a moaning mess as he enters deeper inside of me.

"Fuck you're so tight," he moans. "Go as slow as you need baby. You're doing so good."

Once he's all the way in, I start moving, bouncing and grinding my hips to the faint beat of the music playing downstairs.

"That's it baby," he says, his voice just barely over a whisper, gripping and guiding my waist. "Ride daddy just like that."

Eventually, we both cum for the second time tonight.

Me all over his dick, and him on his stomach.

** smut over! ** (fr this time)

We clean each other up, get dressed again, and sit on the sofa, his arm wrapped around my waist and me cuddled up against his chest.

"I know we're drunk," he says, breaking the silence. "But I had the time of my life with you tonight, baby."

I smile softly, looking up at him. "Me too."

He smiles back and gently pulls me in by my chin, pressing his lips to mine once more.

The flavor of cum now mixed with the alcohol from earlier is so addicting.

As we slowly pull away, I find myself staring into his eyes once more.

"What?" he teases, mocking me from earlier.

I playfully shove his shoulder and he chuckles.

I grab my phone from the cushion next to me and tap my lock screen.

A fuck ton of messages from Trin pop up.

Trin 💋: You okay sis? You went to the bathroom about 10 minutes ago.

Trin 💋: Just checking in again babes. Lmk if you need me!

Trin 💋: Have you seen Josh? Jon and I can't  find him anywhere.

Trin 💋: Wait.....

Trin 💋: OH DAMN GIRL YOU GETTIN SOME?! ENJOY THAT SAMOAN ZICKKKK! 

Trin 💋: And please don't get pregnant 😭🫶🏽

I giggle, pressing the side button so my lock screen shuts.

"Whatchu laughin at?" Josh asks, looking down at me smiling.

"Trin is onto us," I reply. "We've been up here for like half an hour now."

He covers his mouth with his hand. "Not gonna lie, I forgot we were here for a party."

I suck my teeth and roll my eyes playfully, smiling. "Your goofy ass."

He smirks and kisses my cheek. "Cmon we better go before they think I got you pregnant or something."

I giggle and, hand in hand, we walk back downstairs and to the group.

————————————————————————————————————————

It's the next morning and I woke up with the worst migraine.

I roll over and feel a crunch under my back.

Confused, I turn back over and see a note.

I smile as I read it.

Gi,

Last night with you was a dream. I missed you so much. Sadly I had to leave early this morning for a meeting so I couldn't be there when you woke up. Anyway I hope we can stay in touch this time around. I'd love to see you again.

- Jey ❤️

PS: If you're hungry, there's waffle house in the microwave for you. Hopefully it helps with your hangover.

God this man is such a dream.

I think I love him.

Liked by uceyjucey, jonathanfatu, jadecargill, wwe, and 2.6M others

giannamacri 🦋

View all 32.7k comments

uceyjucey 🔥

trinity_fatu HOTTTT 😍

jadecargill Whew! 🥵

Liked by giannamacri, jonathanfatu, almiafatu, biancabelairwwe, and 1.7M others

trinity_fatu This is 35 🥰🍾

View all 21.3k comments

jonathanfatu 😍

giannamacri 🥹🥰🫶🏽

Tag List: @uceyliyahh ♡

^^ If you’d like to be added, feel free to leave a comment below! <3

Check out my wattpad and twitter! 💟

Follows, feedback, & reblogs appreciated! 🧚🏼‍♀️

[rockrosethistle]

"Ted Spankoffski is so tragic" yes yes I agree with you but you know who we don't talk about enough?

The man, the myth, the legend, Ethan Green.

Everyone loves to talk about how much they love him, but you are all forgetting that he is heartbreaking.

So first of all, he loves Lex. Incredibly devoted. And you're thinking, "well obviously he loves his girlfriend?" But I am not exaggerating when I say nearly every decision this man makes is for the sake of making her happy.

He cares about her opinion of him. He cares about how she's feeling. Ethan literally has more emotional intelligence as a 19-20 year old than most grown men do. He was going to propose!

And then his relationship with Hannah. At the ripe old age of 19, Ethan steps into a fatherly role for his girlfriend's kid sister, and he fucking kills it. If he is devoted to Lex, he's protective of Hannah. He dies trying to fight off people that want to hurt her.

The first time we see him in Yellowjacket, he's trying to cheer Hannah up after her shop class accident. On Hannah's birthday, he takes her out to Pizza Pete's even though he doesn't have the money to spare. She is a priority to him. He even wears a little birthday celebration crown.

On top of that, he's a decent guy. Yes, he's not above threatening people or stealing, but his heart is always in the right place when he does it. He puts the effort into his relationship. He is shown apologizing when he fucks up and recognizing his mistakes. He saves Lex and Hannah's life's at the end of Yellowjacket.

Great, right? No. Not great. The narrative is consistently ruining his life.

He dies in Black Friday. Dies in a brutal way while being ambushed for a doll that he didn't have. He actually dies for nothing. And his very last words are "I'll get you to California, Lex. That way you don't gotta cry so much no more." Was Lex in the room? No. He was hallucinating her. Fucking devastating.

And then, his face gets worn by a dark god to torment Hannah. Hannah, one of the people he cared most about, is being toyed with by something wearing Ethan's face. You just know he's watching in the afterlife feeling utterly powerless.

There are timelines where Ethan and Lex accept larger jail sentences so that Hannah isn't left alone. He is not related to Hannah, or Lex. He has no real obligation to do that. He chooses to, for Hannah's sake. And has to spend years in jail.

In Yellowjacket, after all they've been through, after he bought the damn ring, the girls just leave him behind. He gets broken up with via a note while they escape to California. And you know it's for the better, you know it's for his own safety, but it still hurts.

There was even supposed to be a Nightmare Time episode where he comes back from the dead Pet-Cemetery style, murders Hannah, and then is tortured for eternity?? But then the Langs were like "No, actually, everyone would hate this." and thank God because Ethan does not need that on his plate.

Look at this. "We caught you a poki-man." He's too good I miss him so much.

This poor guy does nothing wrong and is constantly being punished. I need in my bones to have a universe where he marries Lex and they get custody of Hannah.

[dreamsofbroflovski]

yo…hear me out..

what the main four or others (as long as kyles in it..) are like for new years celebrations!

happy 2025 yall. let’s cook.

oh look its kyle bufflobster on that gif. my personal enemy.

Happy 2025!!! Hope everyone's having a great time already! As for me, I managed to drink cider that's been expired since 2021. It's going swell.

My first request for headcanons! I don't even know if I did these right, but I really did rack my brain. I also added some words about how they'd be with the reader because why not.

MAIN FOUR HEADCANONS - NEW YEAR'S CELEBRATIONS

𓆩♡𓆪 STAN MARSH

First thing that needs to be said: this man is pissed off days in advance over fireworks - if he has any pets, he has to make absolutely sure they’re safe and secure before anything else. He’s that guy who’s very vocal about how bad they are for animals (doesn’t really mention their effects on people), has probably tried to get them banned completely at some point.

Now that that’s out of the way. I think he’s the type to stay holed up in his home, order takeout and treat it as just another evening. 

With the exception that he’ll have an excuse to drink a whole lot of cheap champagne without anyone being up his ass about it.

Avoids his family altogether, mostly due to his father wanting to go absolutely wild on the holiday, he needs to be far away from all that.

He’s not opposed to attending a party and being around his friends, but will not actively seek that out.

And if he’s partying, he’s gonna go blackout drunk and probably miss the actual turn of the year - only to try and drunkenly state his well wishes (or personal grievances) to everyone half an hour later when the whole thing has pretty much died down.

Thumbs up reacts to everyone’s texts on the afternoon of Jan 1st; no real response.

No resolutions at all. There’s no point - at the end of the day, the new year is just a continuation of everything that has been going on in his life. If he has to achieve anything, he’ll do so of his own accord, making a promise is just putting unnecessary weight on his own shoulders.

If he’s with you, however… He can be a little better and put more effort into it, because he sees how excited you are and doesn’t wanna burst your bubble.

Will do whatever you wanna do, but has a high preference for it just being the two of you somewhere isolated, with some food and music and the aforementioned champagne (which he drinks a lot less of if you’re present)

Will pull you into a kiss right as the fireworks start and try to keep you distracted for the duration, both because he wants to be as close to you as possible in that moment and also so that he can ignore the things entirely.

Will tell you all about how he loves you and how you’re the best thing that’s happened to him. Even if he sounds drunk, you know he means all of it entirely.

𓆩♡𓆪 KYLE BROFLOVSKI

He’s probably nothing special on NYE. Probably also stays at home, but not isolated.

Jewish New Year isn’t on Dec 31st, but I still think his parents do a little something, like some nice dinner or a reunion with extended family members or friends.

If he finds himself at some party, he’s pretty well-behaved even there. I don’t see him raising hell - however, if anyone stresses him out, he’ll fight like it’s any other old day.

Is the one fucker who brought the expensive champagne that no one can recognize the name of - which got the same treatment as the other cheap ones from the supermarket.

I do unfortunately see him in the position of designated driver. Someone has to make sure his dumbass friends don’t kill themselves on the road. That doesn’t mean he’s ever happy about it, though.

Watches people partake in superstitions, but doesn’t do any of them himself.

Sends ‘Happy New Year’ texts to almost everyone he knows as soon as midnight rolls over.

Makes resolutions and sticks to them - writes them, pins them to the wall, the whole nine yards. Morning of Jan 1st he’s already making detailed plans about how he’s going to achieve everything he said he would that year (whether those plans actually succeed is a whole different animal)

If he’s with you… He absolutely tries to make it a special night, despite it meaning little to him in a superstitious sense.

He’s also in the position where your plans are his plans, he’ll follow you. However, if you do accept to spend NYE with his family and him the whole time, it sends his heart soaring because he knows that you’re choosing him above all the other stuff you could be doing, and he’ll make sure you have a great time even if his family is… difficult.

Brings you into a soft and tender kiss as the new year rolls over, holding you close as you both share a toast of champagne and sort of ignore the first fireworks in favor of being with each other.

At the top of his resolution list is the mission to make your year the best it can possibly be, and to love you through all of it. He hasn’t really written that down on his list, though - because it’s on his mind 24/7 anyway.

𓆩♡𓆪 ERIC CARTMAN

Leaves his mother alone - he’s at a party somewhere, for sure. Even if he was invited to none, he’ll sneak his way in. Since no one really has it in them to argue with him on NYE, he gets to stay.

Which shouldn’t even be a bad thing, because he actually brings the heat; he shows up with several beverages and food every time. The part of it that sucks is the fact that everything he brings is for his consumption, so he’s still an expense to the host.

He can, however, legitimately be trusted with the aux. Actual decent taste when it comes to party music.

That one guy making jokes about how he ‘hasn’t showered since last year’ or shit. Except he says them at 10pm still on Dec 31st and no one’s sure if he’s just stupid or if it’s really true.

Wears party accessories ironically; possibly brought them.

Buys whole boxes of fireworks. He’ll try to find some poor soul to do the work of lighting them up for him, but normally can’t, so he does it himself and probably needs to be taken to the hospital from the burns or sets fire to something else entirely.

Makes posts and stories on social media wishing a half-assed Happy New Year to ‘everyone’ - when in reality he got maybe like, two texts at most. (Butters and his mom, most likely)

Strangely superstitious? People will see him go through all the possible traditions that anyone said would bring him good fortune. If anyone asks him about it, he’ll deny deny deny - actually, he’s wearing full white ‘because it’s drip’ and eating those grapes under the table ‘because he doesn’t want to share them’, it’s definitely not that he fears for his own luck if he doesn’t do so.

Since he is a little ‘stitious, that does mean he makes resolutions. And they’re usually grandiose, full of bullshit, and don’t really signify any relevant positive change for his life - it’s mostly just material and physical gratification. Needless to say, they’ve never come to fruition.

If he’s with you, barely anything changes, really.

Talks to you about his plans for the evening as if they’re a done deal. Basically drags you to whatever it is he wants to do. (You might even be the reason he’s able to get into a party to begin with)

Doesn’t kiss you straight away because he’s busy with his fireworks, but if he manages to not hurt himself, you get a heavy makeout session afterwards.

He talks mad shit about how you’re lucky to have him and how you should thank him for spending this time with you, but in reality, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

Immensely grateful for your presence in his life and willing to do anything to keep it that way. However, you won’t hear a single word about it.

𓆩♡𓆪 KENNY MCCORMICK

Out of his house by sundown - the addicts around him don’t really need a special occasion for doing their shit and stirring trouble, but it still seems to worsen on the holidays, so he wants to avoid that.

The protection Stan feels towards animals, he feels towards his siblings. Before he goes do anything else, he has to make sure they’re accounted for, with their friends somewhere safe where they can enjoy the night.

When that’s dealt with, it’s party time. He does get invited to stuff, and tries his best to not show up empty-handed, even if it’s just a bottle of cheap alcohol. He might still fail in that regard, though, but it’s okay, we still love him.

Wears all the ridiculous party accessories unironically.

Has died, more than once, due to firework-related accidents. Still enjoys watching them, albeit from a very safe distance now.

Watches the ball drop livestream on the television with great interest, even if just because it’s in HD this time. Celebrates heavily when it finally happens.

His ‘Happy New Year’ texts come in the afternoon, because he’s always too wasted in the morning to tell anyone anything. People might receive a drunken nonsensical jumble of letters at midnight, though.

Says surface-level words about a resolution or two, but it’s mostly really simple stuff. Also doesn’t really hold any of that to heart, because he knows of his own bad luck.

Doing the absolute most for a new year’s kiss (or several), practically on his knees begging for it.

However, if he’s with you… You’re getting way more than a kiss. It doesn’t even matter where y’all are, he’s starting the year by doing his favorite thing with his favorite person.

He kinda drags you into his plans, but it’s not in a selfish way like Cartman does. He just wants to make sure the both of you have a great time.

If you turn out to invite him personally to spend time with your family or just yourself, words cannot describe how happy he’s gonna be. It’ll basically make his whole year. He’ll ditch any party for that.

Partying all night with his baby, watching the fireworks, making love and not having to worry about anything else? Count this dude in.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Happy Valentine's Day to you all! To celebrate, I'm back with another collaborative Drarry reclist, featuring a new lovely bunch of Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans!

Once again, the question was: ‘what one or two fics, or scenes, or quotes, represent peak Drarry romance to you?’ and (in what is rapidly becoming a nightmare for me), no duplicates from previous years were allowed. Thank you so much to everyone who took part, I hope you enjoy the results!

You can find part 1 (2022) here, and part 2 (2023) here!

This year's list features answers from: apricitydays-lazynights, arminaa8, drarrymyheart, drarryspecificrecs, hoko-onchi-writes, jtimu, littlewinnow, mallstars, myrtlefics, oflights, peachydreamxx, pl0tty, rainstormradish, romaine2424, squintclover, starquestingfordrarry, thecouchsofa, thedrarrylibrarian, and themiddleofwonderland!

***

@apricitydays-lazynights

💗who will receive you in love's offices by jtimu (E, 30k)

It was a wonder, Draco thought, watching Potter tip back the last remnants of his drink, that the man had survived to adulthood. Not because of the war, or the constant attempts on his life, or surviving two separate killing curses, despite his insistence that he had at some point died, but because there was not a single ounce of self-preservation in his entire body. There couldn’t be. …He glanced over at the potion on the table, and considered, for a fraction of a moment, getting up and pouring those same drops of veritaserum into his own glass. He looked away just as fast, back at Potter, grinning in his chair like they were queuing up for a Quidditch game and not at all like he had just handed his childhood nemesis the keys to his thoughts. “All right,” he said, “first of all. What the ever loving fuck is wrong with you?

@arminaa8

💗My Beautiful Boy by alexmeg (unrated, 69k, sequel to Alucinatio)

"You don't even like boys."

"I didn't know I did. But you," Harry trails off, laughs with his gaze trying to meet the grey of Draco's eyes, a little tremulous with nerves and fear and the way his breath sticks high in his throat like an ache. Draco does look at him, then. "God, you."

💗Seagulls Cause Storms, or the Essence of Chaos by @writandromance (M, 312k)

The stars above them were bright white. It made him think again of the black universe between the constellations, the way he thought people like him held the space for people like Harry to burn hot.

@drarrymyheart

💗The Rewards of Being Loved by @lou-isfake (E, 161k, sequel to The Ordeal of Being Known)

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to make you stop thinking so hard,” Harry replied, grinning mischievously. He placed Draco’s hand on his bare waist, his own hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco’s lips twitched in a hesitant grin.

“This song is too fast for you to dance to.”

“Only if I’m thinking about it,” Harry retorted, stepping in close. “Is my kitchen too difficult for you to dance in, your highness?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Potter,” Draco murmured, his grin widening as he pulled Harry flush against him, taking his hand. Harry chuckled, waiting for him to lead.”

💗I Do Not Love You by @writandromance (M, 228k)

“The thing is,” Harry said, voice low like all they’d said was public knowledge and this was the secret. “If you’re interested in this, if we pursue this, I’ll be a goner.”

“A goner?” he echoed.

Harry took a lung-filling breath. “Yeah, Draco,” he sighed. “That’ll be it for me. Tony… well, Tony I ended up happy to see go. Miles, I—that was hard in the moment but I was fine. But you… we’re so connected, our lives are so connected, our friends. I don’t want to fuck around, it would be serious, to me. You’re serious to me.”

@drarryspecificrecs

(cause 'Hogwarts 8th year' & 'creature' are among my fave tropes and I really really adore fics where Draco is in trouble but not weak & Harry is already smitten with him)

💗Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by @faith2wood (E, 37k)

💗The Arc of the Pendulum by brummell (E, 30k)

@hoko-onchi-writes

💗Half Sick of Shadows by StarQuesting (E, 40k)

(I have a hard time containing myself about dragon tamer Draco, and everyone knows it. I’m about as subtle as a brick when something pings a sweet spot in my brain. But this fic is so much more than a hot, aloof, sex king dragon tamer Draco who has weaver Harry weak in the knees. It is also so very bright and clear in my mind; the visuals are so affecting, just like the creations that Harry weaves. Favorite scene: Harry casually chatting with dragons. 12/10 would be unhinged again.)

💗A pulled down shade by fast_brother (M, 43k)

(I’m not a big crier over fics. Maybe three or four have made me cry this year. This one made me lose it. I think the thing that stands out to me is the visceral capture of emotion. You can feel Draco’s broken heart, and then you can feel Harry’s. I could probably get worked up about it right now. Favorite scene: Draco crying over the broken tea cup. I literally can’t function when I think about it. 12/10 would cry again.)

💗The Brightest Constellations of Our Souls by thecouchsofa (E, 256k)

(I might be cheating since I’m still savoring The Brightest Constellation of Our Souls but I’m including it because it is Peak Drarry Romance. TheCouchSofa always has this intensely brilliant characterization. Harry is heartbreakingly oblivious. Draco is prickly and about as subtle as a brick over pining for Harry. This also features depression!Harry, which has gotta be one of my favorite Harrys. She writes depressed Harry with such delicacy, handling the ins and outs of mental illness and trauma with care, but also making it fucking funny. Favorite scene so far: Harry very casually slipping into conversation that he’s bisexual after he’s been traveling with Draco for an absurd amount of time without mentioning it. And Draco’s ensuing reaction. 12/10 will continue swooning.)

@jtimu

💗Designate / your love as fate by @elskanellis (E, 17k)

💗Lover, Where Do You Live? by @dodgerkedavra (E, 39k)

💗Seven Days in June by @fourth-rose (E, 47k)

@littlewinnow

💗1000 Kisses: #27 First Thing in the Morning, Just After Moving in Together by @deliciouslystickypersona (E, 3k)

Draco trails his fingertips over the flat plane of Harry’s belly, tracing the line of hair up to where it widens over his pectorals. He nuzzles his nose into the curve of Harry’s shoulder, inhaling the sweet, musky, sleepy scent of his skin.

💗Little Love by @ladderofyears (M, 34k)

Harry – who still held Draco’s hand – was gazing at the baby, spellbound by the sight. His whole appearance couldn’t have been prouder, or more loving, had he been Snidget’s natural father. When Harry caught Draco looking at him, he beamed, unashamed of his response.

@mallstars

💗Elaborate, Correct, and Assiduously Observed by peu_a_peu (T, 4k)

Some things were still the same, he thought. Draco was the perfect height for Harry to put his head on his shoulder and rest. That had been secretly true all along, and they’d only had to figure it out.

💗Us, In Lieu by Tepre (E, 30k)

“I . . .” The words jumble in his mouth. His hair is still mostly wet in his neck. He should’ve shaved. He should’ve cleaned his glasses. He should’ve— “I do want you.” And, “Enough,” he adds, then decides no , decides, “Not just enough. More than. More than that.” He licks his lips. “So much more than that.”

💗The Pure and Simple Truth by @letteredlettered (E, 14k)

Malfoy’s eyelashes were visible just above his cheeks, golden and some might have said they should have been darker, but Harry thought that they were perfect. The curve of Malfoy’s jaw, the slant of Malfoy’s throat, that was perfect, too. Malfoy looked up, licked his lips. “I thought you weren’t interested,” he said.

💗The Isle of Ogygia by @citrusses (E, 13k)

The days pass slower, after Potter leaves. Draco tries to fish again, and manages to actually levitate a fish out of the water, but then he Stuns it and it sinks back beneath the waves like a rock, and he doesn’t have any luck retrieving it again. Every day he walks to the top of the lighthouse, casts the right spells, and walks back down. He looks around his room and thinks about where Potter sat.

@myrtlefics

💗Going Postal by dustmouth (125 page comic)

(I am a complete and utter sucker for Dustmouth’s comics and the correspondence and longing and softness of this one make me really happy)

@oflights

💗Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k)

(Chapter 11: it's one of my fave proposals in any fic ever/a beautiful love confession/a lovely romantic moment that fits with how the rest of the fic builds up their relationship and all the poor communication and ways they've hurt each other and love each other)

@peachydreamxx

💗to be a bit of warmth (for you) by @softlystarstruck (M, 9k)

Draco stirs in Harry’s arms, mumbling something soft and incoherent, and Harry whispers a wandless spell to completely dim the room lights. If Draco is just seeking comfort, so what? Harry has more than enough to give– it may be the only thing he has left to give– and Draco grounds him, too. Whatever happened on the other side of a war they both went through no longer matters. They’re here, now, and Draco is cold.So Harry will keep him warm.

@pl0tty

💗Tandem by fast_brother (M, 93k)

The handle clicked and the door cracked open, allowing the sound of rain to come into the car. 

“I… thanks,” Harry said. His heart was beating faster. His hands were sweaty.

Draco didn’t back away completely, just enough to be able to look Harry in the eyes. 

“You have to stop that, Harry. Really," he said gravely, as if speaking about a very serious issue. 

“Stop what?” Harry asked stupidly, still holding his breath. 

“You have to stop looking at me like that.”

Harry’s heart traveled all the way up to his throat. 

“I– I can’t,” he blurted out, feeling himself flush with the enormity of what he’d just said.

Draco let out a shocked chortle. He looked away at the street covered in rain, his left hand still resting on Harry’s chair. When he turned back towards Harry, he wasn’t laughing anymore.

He leaned in and kissed Harry on the lips.

💗Matters of the heart by nerakrose (G, 5k)

Today’s breakfast: eggs, toast, tea. I’ve left the sink a mess this week but I’ll do the dishes later. In a way taking these moments to write to you every morning feels like a little quiet refuge or a secret space that nobody else knows about but you. It feels safe here. I miss you. These days I’m missing you more than I’ve ever missed you before and I can’t explain it. Have I reached a breaking point? I don’t know.

Yours,

Harry

💗More Than That by joosetta (E, 11k)

“He was going to kill you,” Potter said, “He said he was going to kill you.”

“He was never going to kill me,” Draco mumbled, “He was up against you for Merlin’s sake. He tried to play quick-curse with Harry fucking Potter.”

Potter was silent for a bit at that, raising a hand up and stroking the back of Draco's head.

“He thought I would help him,” Potter said finally. Draco felt the strangest thing, like a spasm in his face, that left his eyes hot, and his lips shaking. He had to gather himself together again before he could reply.

“Well, he’s never had me suck his cock, so there was no way he could know,” Draco said, instead of he didn’t realise that you loved me. Potter got it anyway, because he laughed, just a little bit. He drew back, and his face was the most frightening and beautiful thing Draco had ever seen.

“You always talk like you give me blow jobs all the time,” he said. “You almost never give me blow jobs, Draco.”

💗Sparks from the Fox’s Tail by khalulu (T, 17k)

And then it was just natural to turn in his arms so they were face to face. Eye to eye, lip to lip, mouth to mouth. Natural to fall into bed together, hands and mouths moving over warm skin, stroking and kissing til they were breathless.

Harry broke off. “Should we think this through?”

“No,” said Draco. “Why did you pull away in the shower?”

“You were so weak then, I didn’t want to take advantage.”

“I was throwing myself at you with what little strength I had. Next time, catch me.”

“I’ve got you,” Harry said, winding himself around Draco. “I’ve got you.”

@rainstormradish

💗Where I see things right by InnerLilith (E, 15k)

(just... absolutely gorgeous handling of a sensitive subject, and I love how the preparation and thoughtfulness is such a big part of the romance. I don't bookmark InnerLilith's fics so much as intermittently go and reread half their back catalogue again. I've loved everything I've read from them.)

💗Help! I'm a Hopeless Romantic by peachydreamxx (M, 15k)

(we watch Harry fall in love with Draco and come to terms with lots of aspects of his life. The little Google searches are just so sweet and tender and I loved, loved loved it. And the ending is so perfect.)

@romaine2424

💗keep driving by @babooshkart (art)

(The romance portrayed in Keep Driving is palpable. Draco is so cool, but from every look, you can see the adoration she has for Harry. And Harry thrives off of the touches between them but also has a confident sense of her own worth. I will never tire of this calming, soft piece depicting a happy, confident, and joyful Drarry. The world is theirs to explore. They'll keep driving.)

💗Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship (E, 119k)

(Never Mind the Bollocks is a new fic from Erised 2023. I loved every moment of it, and Harry having so much fun and feeling like he belonged was everything. However, his drive to right and save all was still there. Chapter 18 brought it all together. I won't say how as the fic is so new, but, for me, it was so romantic with BAMF Harry showing up and Draco trying to be mad. Complete chef's kiss.)

@squintclover

💗 A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 235k)

(I remember so vividly the falling in love and the moment when it changed for both of them.)

@starquestingfordrarry

💗The Potter Malfoy bathroom war of 2007 by @andithiel (E, 9k)

(it is peak bathing-comfort)

@thecouchsofa

💗Cut From the Sky by mallstars (E, 150k)

(“Rainy romance’ describes this perfectly. I love how Harry grows to love Draco and never stops going after him once he realises that’s what he wants. This kind of love necessitates an endless amount of patience, but I can’t think of anything more romantic than that – someone coming back time and time again and showing you more grace than you would ever show yourself.)

💗Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet (E, 43k)

(Harry and Draco being each other’s Great Loves in every life going back hundreds of years? I am feral. I cannot be contained. A demonstration of them being perfect for each other in every timeline, through good and bad. This is peak romance at its best.)

@thedrarrylibrarian

💗O Come, All Ye Faithful by @toomuchplor (E, 20k)

(Told through jumps between the past and the present, I adore the way toomuchplor depicts the everyday romance of an established relationship. Too often romance is delegated to big displays of affection, when I think much of romance is in the mundane, routine moments. Listening to your partner share about their day is romantic. Making routine breakfast and coffee is romantic. The intimacy of having an ongoing inside joke about a cat name is unbearably romantic to me. These are the small, everyday moments that the foundations of grand romances are built upon, and this fic was a love note to those moments.)

@themiddleofwonderland (amazuppai)

💗Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 16k)

(it's a classic H/D fic that preserves Draco's prickly personality while still showing him reforming in a very realistic way. It's a slow-burn—Harry isn't really in the first half at all, and when he does show up he's still very suspicious of Draco—but as Draco shows his (new) true colors, Harry can't help that his suspicions turn to curiosity (one of my favorite tropes with reformed Draco fics) especially with the somewhat forced proximity they find themselves in that slowly turns into voluntary and frequent proximity. To me, maybe because of the slow burn, it seems like a very realistic depiction of how Draco could reform himself and how Harry can turn his suspicions into curiosity and eventually more to form a healthy relationship together.)

[izzyhandslightofmylife]

Official statement on why Izzy's death affected me so much

Our Flag Means Death, is, at it’s core, is a show that focuses on queer joy- a form of therapy for those that have been raised on queerbaiting, shipping minor side characters, or watching, when nothing else is available, queer tragedies. You know how it goes- the two main characters, both male, have chemistry. They say things to each other that seem weirdly like declarations of love. They look at each other with love in their eyes. You see these things and the main man gets married off to a badly written, unfinished female character and is left feeling empty. The best friend dies for the main character to live. When everyone talks about how cute the main couple are, you want to scream all of a sudden, because nobody can see this love story play out except you. It’s queer, it’s tragic, and nobody else can understand it. 

Not Our Flag Means Death. From the moment it aired, it was praised as a show with unabashed queer joy, which means more than I can possibly say. The two main male characters meet, they have chemistry, and they fall in love. It’s not implied, or hinted at, but blatantly obvious. Their romances and the queer romances around them attracted so many queer fans who felt that after so many years, this type of show was a vindication for what they had been through with other media. 

In this show, piracy itself was that of a found family. Though Stede Bonnet and the crew of the Revenge start off with many differences, the core of the show centers around a theme that many queer audiences are attracted to: found family. The Revenge was depicted as a safe space, where everyone could express themselves freely, a refuge from a world of judgment. Queerness was not only accepted but normalized on The Revenge. No homophobia, no coming out, no typical complications of queer romance. Just love and safety. Warmth, which was Ed Teach wished for in purgatory. Which was what he found on the Revenge. The ship was a safe space that so many queer audiences had dreamed of. 

Well, a safe space except for one person: Izzy Hands, Blackbeard’s First Mate, who was a man painfully stuck in the wrong genre. This is the general consensus by both fans and the cast: Izzy, Edward and their crew had been in a gritty action movie, whereas Stede and his crew were in a muppet movie of sorts. While the majority of Blackbeard’s crew quickly acclimates to and celebrates the change, Izzy doesn’t. 

And right away, many fans felt a deep attraction to Izzy. The reason that Izzy couldn’t get Edward to love him was because, in the end, the only way that Izzy knew how to love was through blood. To give and receive pain in an action movie is one of the greatest forms of love, but Izzy fails to realize that Ed is not in an action movie anymore. He is happy with this stability, and the reason that so many people felt Izzy’s presence so was strongly was that he wasn’t. 

So many queer people are, in a way, addicted to tragedy. Tragedy is all that is represented in queer media for the most part, or was until very recently. Take Achilles and Patroclus, one of the most celebrated and recognized queer love stories of both ancient and modern times. Why that one? There are other greek love stories, many of them queer. The tragedy of it- Patroclus’ death and Achilles’ rage- made it all the more appealing. Many in the audience of Our Flag Means Death were not comedy fans, they were horror or drama fans, attracted to a comedy because of the love story. But Izzy, to them, was a physical representation of who they were, carrying an awareness of homophobia, of blood and pain that so many queer relationships had previously been illustrated by (i.e. Hannibal). Though Ed may not have understand this type of affection, the audience did- Izzy’s Otherness from the crew despite it’s safety, his expressions of love and his unrequited love story were all things that the audience were familiar with feeling. 

If Ed and Stede were good queer representation, Ed and Izzy, for example, were a foil of that. They were evil, messed up, and fed into the worst parts of each other because it brought them closer. This is a theme present in a lot of queer media, and by extension, queer lives: “if you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand”, is an excerpt classic queer poem about unrequited love that fits the situation. The very reason Izzy stuck in people’s heads because he was of a different genre. His grittiness and bitterness made sense to the audience. They saw Izzy and saw what was familiar. He was exquisitely written, simultaneously making even casual audiences both hate him, and against all odds, find him oddly endearing. The idea of this man sacrificing every inch of himself for an unrequited love was a concept of tragedy, leaking into a comedic show. 

So fans projected onto Izzy. He was a catalyst for the heartache, for the audience’s sheer inability to have a happy show. For one reason or another, some of the audience simply couldn’t live with a show that was all fantastical, which I theorize is because they couldn’t see themselves in it. So Izzy became the epitome of queer suffering: pining longingly after another man that couldn’t understand him. This projection of suffering, however, led to a new wish: happiness for Izzy. If Izzy in Season 1 was a tragedy, assimilating him into the found family in Season 2 would have elevated the safe sense of the ship all the more. It would have proved to so many of these Izzy Fans that yes, even though you view yourself as unloveable, even though you see yourself as Israel Hands, Villain, even he can be loved too. Why can’t you be? 

And Season 2, for the most part, delivered beyond our wildest dreams. Izzy had people who cared about him. And though the genre shifted into the darker, Izzy himself shifted slightly to the comedic side as well. His life, which had been centered for so long around a man that didn’t reciprocate his feelings, was gone. He started a new life, and this life, again, focused on queer joy. The queer joy from Season 1 was suddenly for everyone, even those like Izzy that couldn’t have understood it. He sang, he whittled, he talked about feelings, he dressed in drag. Many elder queer fans also saw Izzy as another metaphor, too: that queer joy can be attained overtime. You don’t have to have had it the whole time, but you can accept yourself even when you are older. The message of Izzy was one of resilience and stubbornness, one that the queer community needed to hear: that you don’t have to be like this, you don’t have to create pain for yourself. You don’t need to watch tragedies all the time. You, too, can heal from the past.

And then, the season finale happened. By this point, many argued that Izzy had stolen the show. Con O’Neil’s acting mixed with his general arc of self acceptance had made him a fan favorite. In the last episode, it is Izzy himself who sums it up perfectly, accepting that he belongs somewhere despite his pain and flaws. Despite the darkness within him, he was still accepted and loved. He says it right to the face of Prince Ricky, who thinks himself above it all. That piracy, a metaphor for otherness, wasn’t actually about being alone; it was about finding others that understood you when nobody else could. 

Listen, this show is known for it’s nonsensicality. In the finale of Season 1, Lucius is thrown overboard by Ed and survives by simply swimming to another ship. Stede reunites with his crew by sailing a rowboat. Buttons turns into a seagull. Stede stabs Ed for a comedic bit. Earlier in the season, Izzy himself gets shot and survives. This queer joy show was celebrated for being, well, joyful. Even when things like getting thrown overboard did happen, they were, ultimately, a blip in the character’s journey towards acceptance, healing, etc, which was what made the show unique. Our Flag Means Death, whose audience had been living for years off of the “Bury your gays” trope, was adored because it illustrated a world where things didn’t have to be that way. A place where the impossible, such as Izzy Hands being loved, could happen. This show was one of survival. 

But not for the one person that was seen to struggle with this concept the most. Not for the one person that was a metaphor for belonging in this place, who became, over the course of a season, the embodiment of the message itself. Not for the Unicorn, the very symbol of this magical, nonsensical ship. Not for the most stubborn, most indestructible, most enduring (queer) person in the show. Not for Izzy Hands. 

This trope, honestly, was one that many have seen before, both in mainstream and queer media. A character, previously shown to be a villain or else to have gone through a lot of pain, is shown to heal, to get better, and then to die in order to “complete their arc”. This trope is common: Loki, Cas. even Ted Lasso, who doesn’t die but goes back to the very place that broke him in the first place. But the reason that Izzy’s death, while it might have been expected in another show, felt like a betrayal in this one is because it was known for subverting those tropes. From the “Bury Your Gays” to the “Up For Interpretation”, it was known to look those tropes in the eyes and say “fuck you, these people deserve to be happy”. And this did happen! Except for the one character who’s healing journey was one of the most relatable, at least to queer audiences. 

What also made it so jarring was that all the other characters got to be happy, except for the one that had struggled with the idea of happiness the most. In the scene immediately after Izzy is buried, Lucius and Pete get married. In the scene after, a montage of queer joy and found family is shown amongst the whole crew. In the final scene, Ed and Stede, our main queer couple, are shown healing themselves and starting a new life together. The last shot, however, showed Izzy’s grave, visited by Buttons the seagull while Ed and Stede had dinner. A tragedy in it’s finest. It wouldn’t have been difficult for Izzy to live. Because, in the end, his death meant nothing. His healing meant nothing. He died and was moved on from in a matter of seconds. He was, as I mentioned, the catalyst for tragedy, more specifically, queer tragedy. But because of this, of his genre, Izzy didn’t get to live. He had to die in order for the rest of the characters to keep living in this fantasy world. This death was, in a way, a preservation of these other love stories.

I maintain, however, that it would have meant more if Izzy had lived. If he had been  able to show to us that yes, despite what you have been through, despite what you may have inflicted upon yourself, you can switch genres. It’s possible. Izzy’s survival up until that point had been a profound testament to many that it is possible to heal, that queerness does not have to mean sadness. It would have continued to be a testament to that if only Izzy had lived. And so, this pirate that we latched onto, not in spite of his darkness but because of it, was buried on land on the side of the road. 

As a side note, many previous incidences in the story point to the idea even though Ed and Stede will definitely stay together, it’s uncertain if the inn would have worked out. It’s likely that, being a whim, those two might have chosen to move, or go back to the sea, or sail to China. If this is true, they would have left Izzy’s grave by itself, like a family pet buried in the yard. If this is true, Izzy Hands, a metaphor for belonging, would rot alone. 

Long live the tragedy addicts. Long live the Richard Siken poems. Long live Izzy Hands. 

*When I talk about the "fandom" I am referring to the canyon.

[diarioculto]

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY ( sebastian vettel x fem!reader )

notes: hey everyone, and happy new year! that 2024 is a marvelous year for all of you ♡ here’s that piece that i’ve been promising you for all this time as a celebration for 200 followers! thank you so so much and i love ALL of you ♡ enjoy!

you had first met sebastian many years ago, when you were both kids.

he was quite the ambitious kind, always defying the laws of everything with his big desire to be the greatest, mainly in the field he loved: formula one.

you were more down to earth, the quiet girl who spent hours in her little corner, secretly wishing for a more exciting life. that’s why you followed the blonde everywhere to every little adventure he had set up, to every karting competition where you cheered him on and on as the chequered flag declared him champion. even to those playdates at the center of the city, chasing him around the water fountain, where he promised to never leave your side.

but you eventually grew up, the boy now taller than you. much to your appreciation, sebastian still had that childish spirit within him, but much more mature now. deep down, you wished that he was still a kid, so that he could forever stay with you.

especially when he told you that he was moving away.

“ i got a contract. bmw sauber. they want me to race for them next year. ”

you were both at the water fountain, like the old days, panting from running around.

you quickly turn to him, heart clenching inside your chest. sure, you had done bad things over the course of the years but this punishment was way worse than all of them.

“ oh, that’s— that’s great! i’m happy for you. ” you throw him a quick smile, adverting your gaze to your lap, playing with the bracelets on your wrist. sebastian cocks an eyebrow at you, cheeky grin on his face.

“ really? you don’t seem very ecstatic about it, schatz. ” he chuckles at you but you don’t respond, still focusing on your hands as they rested on your lap. the laughter around you quickly dies down, the boy taking one of your hands on his own.

“ hey— hey. it’s not the end and you know it. this isn’t a goodbye. ” he reassuringly squeezes your hand, trying to get you to look at him. you sigh, scared that it was all going to be a lot harder than you could deal with.

“ i’m afraid it is one, sebastian. ”

the whole world around him stops moving. his breathing gets heavier. he feels his chest eating him alive as his ears ring louder and louder.

in all the years you have known each other, not once have you called him sebastian. sure, he was your seb, your sunshine… geez! even vettel when you were mad at him. but never sebastian.

“ don’t call me that. ” his voice is just above a whisper and he isn’t sure if you heard him, your gaze still avoiding his. “ schatz, look at me. ”

you finally turn to him, tears in your eyes as you bite your bottom lip. you smile softly at him, and for a brief moment, he thinks it will all be okay, that you can get through this together. before he could promise you anything else, you gently cup his face as you kiss his cheek, leaving a wet spot right below his eye.

“ maybe it’s for the better. ” in that shaky voice, even though you were trying to reassure him, it feels like you’re doing it more for yourself. with no other spare second, you get up and leave him all alone by the water fountain. he just watches as you walk away, mind hazy and confused.

you didn’t dare to look back. he didn’t care enough to run after you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“ last day in formula one. how are you feeling? ” he gets pulled out of his thoughts by britta, who looks at him with sad eyes.

“ nervous. ”

he wasn’t sure how they were supposed to go, the last days. hell, the whole thing hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

for many years, the only thing above everything else for him was formula one. he lived, breathed and bled formula one. it was his only ambition, his true desire.

from a young talent to a four time world champion, just to end up as a failed star and ending his career at a rookie team, doing more of a consulting job than exactly racing.

he had once ruled the world, got thrown away and tried to climb his way back up, enough to realize that it wasn’t worth it and it was time to give up.

he still loved racing like it was his first day, like he still was the young sebastian vettel, bright talent who could once continue michael schumacher’s legacy. the one who everyone looked at with hopeful eyes and hearts. but it was time to give the seat to someone else who truly deserved it. a young talent like he once was.

“ don’t worry. everyone’s out there ready to support you and cheer for you one last time. no one resents you for choosing what’s best for yourself, y’know. ” britta squeezes his shoulder reassuringly and all he can do is smile appreciatively at her. britta has been nothing but his supporting rock all these years, and he couldn’t be any luckier to have her by his side. “ you haven’t even left yet but i think i saw lewis throwing away a couple tears outside, by the mercedes garage. ” sebastian chuckles as he looks away and britta smiles, feeling happy to do the same.

lewis was the hardest one to convince once sebastian announced his retirement. who would’ve thought that, who was once his biggest rival on track, would be the one to say “ he will be back. ”

sebastian now looked at lewis like one of his best mates, and he was sure the champion felt the same way.

“ well— everyone is waiting for you outside. come out once you’re ready. ” britta squeezes his shoulder one more time before leaving the space, leaving him all alone in his old driver’s room.

sebastian sighs deeply, thinking back to how it all began. how he wished that a certain person had been by his side this whole time — you.

he wasn’t mad nor resented you for walking away, he understood it. you were hurt and the knife would only cut deeper if you hadn’t ended things before he left. the last thing he wanted was for you to suffer, but maybe he had done it without realizing.

there was nothing left to do besides trying to find you once he got back home. but for that, he needed to go outside and give a final goodbye to his friends, team and thousands of fans who were patiently waiting for him.

just as he was about to leave the room, he hears excited voices on the outside and before he can do anything else, the door swings open, revealing a smiley britta.

“ calm down, b. i’m not gone yet. ” he tries to crack a joke, which only gives him back a deadpan from britta, as she shakes her head. “ is everything alright? ”

“ uh— yeah! there’s just someone here to see you. ” she smiles as she moves to the side, revealing the mysterious person behind her.

and then, the whole world around him stops moving. his breathing gets heavier. he feels his chest eating him alive as his ears ring louder and louder. if it wasn’t for all the commotion outside, he would’ve surely thought that he was dreaming.

“ hey, seb. ” there you were. in all you glory and beauty, standing there right in front of him; angelic as ever, just how he had dreamt of all these years.

you were all grown up now, slightly taller but still shorter than him. you still had that childish glint in your eyes, but you were much more mature now.

you step further into the room with sebastian still paralyzed in shock as he stares at you dumbfounded. “ schatz. ” his voice is nothing but above a whisper as he calls out for you.

“ i’ll leave the two of you alone. ” britta winks at sebastian, who doesn’t quite pay attention to her, and closes the door before walking away.

you keep your chuckles to yourself has he hasn’t moved yet since he saw you. putting all you anxiety to the side, you become the bigger person and step closer to him, involving his body into a warm hug. and just then, you both realize how much you’ve missed it during all these years.

“ and before you ask me about why i’m here, it’s pretty obvious that i’m here to see you. idiot. ” he chuckles and finally hugs you back, your sweet laugh just beside his ear.

you stay like that, in silence, just absorbing each others presence for a while. a couple tears rolling down your cheeks and sebastian finally understands it all. nothing is a goodbye forever; there’s always a hello after it. maybe he could be back one day.

“ i’m sorry i didn’t run after you that day. ” he finally breaks the silence as you both pull away with runny noses and wet cheeks. you just smile fondly at him, cupping his cheeks so you could wipe away his tears.

“ i didn’t want you to run after me. i just wanted you to stay, but that wasn’t my choice to make. ” as his blue eyes stare into yours, everything finally feels okay again, and sebastian feels like he’s ready to face it all one last time.

just as you approach his face to plant a kiss to his cheek, a distant voice breaks you away from your transe.

“ hey seb— oh, sorry. i didn’t realize you had your lady with you. ” lewis walks into the room but quickly stops on his tracks as he sees both of you together.

“ she isn’t my lady. yet. ” you just laugh as you look to each other and sebastian swears he saw some kind of blush creeping around your cheeks, even though you denied it later on.

“ uh— okay. i just wanted to let you know that we’re ready for you outside. ” lewis says quite hurriedly before looking at you with an awkward smile. “ hi, i’m— i’m lewis, by the way. ”

you shyly greet him back before sebastian speaks up. “ i’ll be there in a minute. ”

lewis only nods at him and says his goodbyes to you before running away, leaving the both you alone again.

“ you should probably go out there. they’re waiting for you. ” you mumble while turning at him, swiftly patting his shirt. a big “ danke seb ” text was plastered at the front, which made your heart warm.

“ yeah. ” he looks at you with loving eyes, but is still a bit hesitant to leave. he wants, he needs more time with you.

“ i will still be here when you’re done. ”

“ i know. ”

and right there and then, he knows exactly what he didn’t that day, by the water fountain, where all his love flourished for you.

[the-stars-in-your-eyes-if]

☀︎NO DEMO YET☀︎ PLAYLIST ☀︎

☀︎SYNOPSIS☀︎

Your childhood friend has always dreamed of the big scene, of the crowd singing your lyrics, of a world tour. Max always wanted for your bands to succeed together. Until...

Well, it is was all a big stupid joke.

The real world caught up to you: you are no longer the naive child you once were. Writing a Grammy worthy album isn’t as easy as it seems and the big scene is nowhere to be seen. You navigate through life as you can, you party with your friends every Saturday and write music all week. You enjoy each one of your gigs – big and small. Your burning love for music doesn’t seem to fade. Your band brought together a solid community that crosses borders. You have fun with your band and it’s all that matter.

But you can’t help but fantasize that, someday, you’ll be at the top of the world…

Big stupid joke, right?

✮BATTLE OF THE BANDS IS BACK!✮

You thought 2020 was the end of us, uh?

You couldn’t be more wrong!

The worldwide known music contest is finally back!

We carefully chose the mentors of our beloved participants. This year will be all pink…

Make way for Pink Riot!!!

Application open to foreigners (check our website)

RATED +18

TW: explicit language, (occasional) violence, transphobia (one character is misgendered but just in one scene), use of alcohol and drugs, (soft) sexual content, parental abuse (flashback), depression, self-harm (warning will be in the "next" button), mention of suicide (same as self-harm)

☀︎FEATURES☀︎

– Customize your MC’s appearance and personality. You decide of their public image and persona.

– Your choices will define your band’s public image and popularity. Are they loved? Do they make underground or mainstream music? Are they the parents’ worst nightmare? The reference of rebellious kids?

– Decide your band’s aesthetic. Do they have one to begin with? Or do they each dress in their own style?

– Write your own lyrics!

– Engage in romantic affairs…

– ...or don’t, your choice!

– Are you going to help the people that cross your path or do you only care about yourself?

☀︎A BIT OF CONTEXT☀︎

Of course, this story is set on Earth.

But.

Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, islamophobia, antisemitism and fatphobia will get you in court.

You are not very well seen if you do one of those things and, if you’re a celebrity/politician/public figure, it can (and will) ruin your career.

I know that this isn’t realistic at all but I need to believe that, one day, this will be real. My characters have and will go through enough trauma and bad moments, I want to give them some peace.

And it feels really good to make a world where those things will ruin the oppressor and not the oppressed.

☀︎ROs☀︎

THE HERMIT — Diesel Di Angelo (they/them)

Diesel is the soul of the band, they bring a sort of osmosis. Their calm energy somehow has a place on stage and is liked by everyone.

Diesel took their first steps in the music world with Max and MC. It was just the three of them before the band grew bigger. Diesel is a talented guitarist, they worked hard to get where they are and they don’t stop improving. They are quite reserved and don’t talk about their feelings… Who knows what lies beneath their shell?

THE MISCHIEVOUS DRUMMER — Roman Lupin (he/him)

If MC is the backbone of the band, Roman is its beating heart. He has no problem to make the public jump from the back of the stage. He’s a spark that will light a bonfire.

Roman learned to play drum from his mother. He went to the conservatory but he didn’t stuck with it. Since a young age, Roman wants to have a band and to perform all around the world. Roman is full of life and he’s the human version of a sunshine. Is there something behind that smile or is he genuinely happy?

THE LITTLE MERMAID — Isra Wafa (she/they)

Isra brings magic to the band. Her mermaid low voice is unique and enchants the public. If you think you’ve heard good bass players, just wait until you see Isra on stage.

When Isra was a child, their parents let them chose an instrument to learn and to their surprise, she chose the bass. They fell in love with this low instrument. They navigated from band to band before settling for this band her boyfriend was part of. Isra keeps ignoring their responsibilities toward her family. For how long can they pretend it doesn’t exist?

THE REBEL ANGEL — Archibald “Archie” de Beaumont (they/he)

Even with a classical training, Archie managed to switch to their band’s genre without too much troubles. All the members affirm it: Archie is a gift from the universe.

Archie popped out of nowhere to audition to be the band’s keyboardist. He was the most talented person they saw all day and the chemistry was very much here. The band doesn’t know much about Archie, but it doesn’t matter. They are a good person and a dear friend. It wouldn’t change anything to learn about their life before the band. Right?

THE MANAGER — Cal Bremont (he/him)

Cal works in the shadow to make the band shines under the spotlight of the biggest stages. The band claims it, he is the best manager you could hope for.

Cal takes his job very seriously, he has a perfect work ethic. Maybe he is a bit too close to his clients and they may not just be clients… But, well, no one is complaining. Cal is very secretive about his personal life, he never mentioned his family or anything else. Can he maintain his relationship with his friends and still keep his life a mystery?

THE RISING STAR — Max Larash (she/her or they/them)

Max moved their band to the other side of the world and they managed to impose themselves on the west coast scene. We’ll keep an eye on them as they’ll compete against their former friends…

Because of artistic divergences, Max decided to leave the band when Isra and Roman joined them and they created their own band with high school friends. Max had big dreams for Sleep Walking and their friends in MC’s band, but it didn’t turn out as Max has hoped. Sleep Walking left the country for the USA without their friends and they intentionally lost all contacts with them…

THE MUSE — Olivia “Ollie” Madden (she/her)

You may have never see her face but, as a comics fan, Ollie Madden is a name far from unknown. None other than the comics artist and writer of the most followed comics, Ollie is still a mystery to her fans.

Olivia works for Blue Pegasus, a major comics book publisher, since years. She was the comics artist on a lot of books, it took her a lot of hard work to finally publish her own series. Olivia isn’t only a famous artist, she also is a single mother. She’s taking care of a lot by herself and it often leads to forget about herself. There is nobody to remind her she’s human and not a superhero…

THE PRINCESS — Katharina "Kat" Deluca (she/her)

We don’t need to present Katharina Deluca anymore. Success and awards seem to follow every movies our Lady K touched. She confessed that her break from the cameras and greens screens was to be present for her best friend… Athena Pierce.

Also known as the Princess, Katharina is one of the biggest actresses of her generation. Between two roles worthy of an Oscar, she is also a model and the face of the infamous designer brand: Beaumont-Griffin. She is in the industry since she was 12. But, behind closed doors, Kat doesn’t seem to have a joyful life… What is she hiding from the world?

GODDESS OF MUSIC — Athena Pierce (she/her)

Athena is a legend in the industry. Everybody wants to work with her and Pink Riot. Her voice will shatter your world, there is a before and an after Athena Pierce.

Athena is the lead singer and front woman of Pink Riot. She was a star child and charmed America with her angelic voice. But, with the creation of Pink Riot, Athena is no longer the little angel of the USA. She’s now known as a freaking rebel and she is quite provocative. She flirts with the limits all the time. Her persona is loved all around the world, but who is the real Athena?

☀︎CANON EVENTS☀︎

You can customize a lot of things regarding your MC and your band. But there are a few things that are canon.

— MC is born and lives in France. Where exactly is up to you. The only place MC can’t have grow up in is Paris. (I headcanon them growing up in Perpignan or Montpellier)

— The names of MC parents can’t be choose. I tried to make them as common as possible so you can choose their origins. MC is French but their parents can be from wherever you want!

— MC's age can’t be choose.

— MC is friends with Max and Diesel since they are 6. They were in school together.

— MC’s first band is with Max and Diesel.

— During high school, MC met Roman and Isra. They joined MC’s band but Max didn’t like the kind of music their band was into so they formed their own band with other high school friends (Sleep Walking).

— The OG band (MC-Max-Diesel) exist until the fateful break up.

— MC’s band and Sleep Walking always were there for each other and gave mutual support. They also create songs and musics together, some are only instrumental and other are with vocal.

— MC speaks French and English. Feel free to add a third and even a fourth language.

— MC lives with Isra and Roman since they finished high school.

[elliebelliegirl]

okay following up though... i understand that you are jewish and Israeli but (not trying to attack you, just trying to understand) how can you stand with the state of Israel after seeing the numbers of atrocities that the IDF has committed - of course the hostages should be released, but palestine will cease to exist if this continues and this is an active genocide. people are being displaced and thousands have died. how can you in good conscience stand with the actions of Israel ?

im still assuming this is in good faith! i do appreciate that you're asking and not attacking, it's really nice change of pace tbh. please understand that my ethnicity and my political opinions are not the same thing and how i feel about the state of israel is divorced from my religious beliefs. i just also believe that my people have a right to live in our indigenous land. i also believe palestinians should be able to live in israel (many already do.) anyway, here's the deal.

first, im not israeli, but my family is. i was born and raised in the u.s. while most of my family is israeli, i am not (yet.) im an american jew with strong roots in israel.

second! israelis have been displaced since october, since the attacks by hamas, the governing body of gaza. they've been attacked and killed for years (the whole reason the iron dome exists is because missiles are such an active threat.) getting displaced or killed has happened to israelis and gazans. its terrible for everyone. i am human, and therefore uncomfortable with war, but i don't think it's a genocide. i am horrified by the deaths in gaza. i hate that innocents are being harmed. i don't want to add a however, but there's a big one- it's that the ratio of killed militants v.s civilians is unfathomably low. if israel wanted to kill everyone in gaza (which is 100% not the goal) they would be dead already. the war is active now only to eradicate hamas, which would be beneficial to gazans and israelis, and to rescue the hostages. israel has offered to end the war multiple times and hamas has refused.. because they refuse to return the people they kidnapped. the war could've been over months ago!!! months ago. israel did not instigate this war, and has repeatedly offered ceasefire deals. hamas is the one shooting these offers down. also, palestine wont just cease to exist.. im not sure what that part means, can you explain it? i want to understand you, too.

also. i have cousins in the idf. one of them was supposed to come over before last days on sukkot and couldn't make it in the end. over the weekend, october seventh happened. the next time we spoke, it was a phone call right after simchat torah ended. he was on his way to the airport, having been called back to israel to meet his unit in kfar aza and start collecting bodies. i only had a few minutes to tell him i love him and to stay alive on behalf of me and my siblings. the memory is so surreal. we turned on our phones for the first time in days to texts from our israeli family saying they were alive, not to watch the videos, not to look at the pictures. im still kind of stuck there on my couch, holding my siblings in a hug and wondering if someone who hadn't texted yet was dead. then we saw people celebrating the massacre. they haven't really stopped. so we knew we couldnt really count on anyone to protect us, and this was way before israel entered gaza. people were just happy jews were dead. don't know if this is a huge sidetrack, but. this is why i stand with israel. their goal is to keep my family alive. their goal is to keep as many gazans as possible alive. that is not the goal of iran and hamas. this goes further than zionism though, tbh. zionism is pretty simple as a principle 😅

[bibibbon]

Chap 429 made me realize I can't stand Class 1A anymore, I like individual students like Tokoyami but as a whole I can't stand them. Their bond is so artificial especially when none of them gave any concern about Izuku's well-being throughout the first year and took Bakuhoe's word immediately. Plus, they are mostly flakes riding off of Izuku's heroism and hard work during the Villain Hunt arc. None of them doing were jackshit about the criminals including "Symbol of Victory" Bakuturd until they remember that Izuku exists. The fact that Hori never lets the students addresses or think about Izuku's quirkless nature after the OFA reveal is something I will never forgive Hori for.

Hori tries so hard to glaze them as this unbreakable team of heroes, but he cheats using plot armor and plot contrivances to make his point seem valid but most of these kids would be dead if the villains were allowed to kill them instead of Hori holding them back with puppet strings. I hate to sound deranged but if some of the students had actually died during the first battle then I could see 1-A actually building a bond and realizing how precious life is and the dangers of being a hero then their concern for Izuku's well-being would seem more valid after all of the other crap they were ignoring about.

Lastly, I hate that damn poem that Hori claims was the inspiration for Deku because it feels like an excuse to justify his narrative abuse of Izuku and deny him any moment of confidence or pride in his achievements. This was supposed to be the story of the Greatest Hero not Class 1-A nobodies. Meanwhile he is too busy celebrating Bakuhoe's moments for during the bare minimum and fans on reddit and elsewhere eat up like its pure cinema or something.

Fair enough it's not that I actually hate class 1A but for some reason I can't simply believe that their dynamic is one of a little happy found family. I just can't and its probably because there's too many characters and we don't get the screentime needed for them to develop such a dynamic.

That is to say I don't hate class 1A like I love the individual characters like tokoyami, iida, jiro and I even love the little groups they have or at least the potential that was in those groups and dynamics.

It doesn't help that it's class 1A that gets the whole we are all heroes thing and the whole we will be there for you Izuku in the vigilante arc. I don't know it falls flat and becomes underwhelming simply because their dynamic isn't well built neither is it well developed. Also them saying they care for izuku seems like it's quite difficult to believe considering that we haven't seen them voice concerns over Izuku's injuries or even visit him during the first war arc when he was in a coma but maybe that's me saying too much because they were in a war and everyone was busy with stuff and trauma.

When it comes to the whole thing with bakugo I personally think that he was supposed to be a minor character for izuku to surpass but him being Izuku's symbol of victory and all of that shows us exactly that izuku hasn't DEVELOPED AT ALL IN THE SERIES!! izuku has continually been an incredibly static character and the ending shows that. Izuku still thought of OFA as a gift from all might instead of his own quirk, he literally never understood the wrongs of the hero system and he never stops viewing all might as this big hero who does so much. Like ugh this could of been things that izuku develops from and becomes a better person but I guess not.

Realistically many 1A members should either be

1) expelled (how is mineta and bakugo still there)

2) dropped out (Iam sorry you're telling me all of these kids parents let them contribute in this bs like are your parents that bad)

3) dead (you're telling me in a field of naive and not properly trained first years none of them have died really?!?!)

These factors would definitely make 1A closer to eachother and would show that they would care a lot more because of what they experienced and what they might blame themselves for what happend previously and it would be realistic/make sense within the series.

Also less 1A members would show just how competitive and tiring the hero course can be (proving aizawas words right) and it would also make the characters big moments that hori gave them have more actual suspense and impact within the narrative and plot.

I have mixed feelings about the poem and the post "the uselessness of izuku midoriya" while I do think it's a good post that shines a different perspective onto things Iam also just not a fan of the concept. I suppose it's because I don't think MHA was built in a way where it's story is a tragedy, like I don't believe tragedy suits the plot of MHA especially when it's not being treated as one.

However, I do think that it could be used as something that izuku starts with at the beginning and then develops into something much more. I think that having izuku choose the name deku and then developing into the name deriku would be fitting just how I would of liked for him to develop from someone whose acknowledgements and influence aren't recognised to someone whose achievements are recognised but not overly praised or anything of the sort something like having him be somewhat of a myth someone whose influence is known but works in the shadows (not literally) but he isn't directly known and isn't like all might. Ugh I don't know how to word it but I hope you understand. I suppose the closest example I can think of is Kim dojka (minus the angst)

(for context this is the poem I assume you're talking about)

Edit

I suppose this maybe better phrasing to what I was trying to say last paragraph.👇

[ohanny]

HOW WOULD ALL THE NEW YEAR’S KISSES HAPPEN IF TEAM X-HUNTER WERE TO THROW A VERY WESTERN NEW YEAR’S EVE CELEBRATION

first of all, the entire party would be north and sonic’s idea but as the de-facto host, alan would end up taking it way too seriously. i’m talking he spends a week drafting a reflective year-end speech and practicing it. jeff rolls his eyes and calls him old but actually thinks it's very sweet that alan cares so much.

he changes his mind when he sees the punch alan prepares for the party because dear gods. jeff is pretty sure he could get drunk on the smell alone because alan’s secret family recipe is 90% various local herbal spirits and 10% cola and the single decorative garnish of thai basil does nothing to make it any less of a health hazard.

jeff suspects alan’s family didn't love each other very much because you don’t force that devil juice on people you care about. alan does not think it’s that bad. sure, it's a bit strong but you can always add more cola if you want! shockingly, kim agrees. the two of them are the only ones who drink the stuff casually throughout the night. north spits his out and accuses his dear lung of trying to poison all of them. babe makes fun of north for this but actually sneakily dumps his glass into a planter. (the plant later dies. alan can't figure out why.)

then, it is near midnight and it is time for alan to give his speech, made even grander because he is quite sentimental and not totally immune to the powers of his own punch. in true x-hunter fashion, it's not exactly a solemn event with everyone jeering and laughing. it’s so noisy that alan gets a bit self-conscious a few times, but then he looks over at jeff who nods at him encouragingly. so alan is a bit cringe - who cares! he’s their cringe uncle and they love him.

but alan isn't quite sure how to wrap his speech up, so in a moment of clarity, he hands the microphone to pete who’s been skulking at the edges of the party with kenta. except, you know, alan doesn't actually have a microphone so he's just holding his fist in front of a visibly startled pete who begins with an eloquent “uh” and finishes with a “let's have a successful year.” it comes out more like a question, but everyone cheers nonetheless.

anygays, now to the juicy bit!

charlie has been a total menace, teasing babe the whole evening. he’s been especially handsy in the last hour but every time babe started to whine, he countered it with a “but we have to stay until midnight, i promised jeff!” now the time has finally come. the countdown ends and babe gives charlie a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing his arm and dragging him away. at 00.01, they are disrobing in the hallway, stumbling towards the nearest bathroom.

meanwhile, it is true jeff has relaxed and gotten used to both giving and receiving affection. still, he feels very awkward standing in the middle of an open space, surrounded by people who are looking at him with all these expectations and he doesn't know what to do. luckily, alan does.

alan looks jeff right in the eye and says “i want to spend next year by your side. and then every year after that, if you'll have me.” jeff flushes bright pink and alan kisses him slow and sweet and, like the romantic fool he is, totally dips jeff who meeps and scrambles to grab a hold of alan’s shoulders as people catcall them. after they straighten back up, jeff smacks alan chest, cursing him out for almost dropping him. alan responds “i’d never” and he’s so disgustingly sincere, jeff has to kiss him again.

once that is done, jeff tries to look for charlie to wish his brother happy new year, only to realize he’s disappeared. jeff is disappointed, but not surprised.

and talking about “brothers”… as the clock strikes midnight, pete and kenta share a moment of prolonged eye contact. eventually, kenta goes for a manly handshake. pete goes for a hug. they end up awkwardly bro-hug patting each other before stepping back and lowkey pretending that mess just didn't happen.

and talking about messes: north and sonic. they’ve had a grand old time clowning everyone else for being so sappy but then it’s time to kiss someone and they totally chicken out. sonic keeps glancing at north and blinking a lot. north laughs and rubs the back of his head. neither one of them can get their acts together because they are both losers.

kim has had enough and, with a huge eye roll, grabs sonic’s face and plants one on his lips before doing the same with north. “see? it's not that fucking difficult” he tells them and physically pushes them together. thoroughly freaked out by kim’s manic grin and squinted eyes, north gathers all his courage and leans in to give sonic a quick peck.

except. EXCEPT. you know when you give someone a quick kiss but then you don’t lean all the way back but linger? that's them. north lingers, lips tingling and heart going double time, and oh, have sonic’s hands been clutching the front of his hoodie this entire time? they don't know which one of them leans back in for the second try but it does happen and although it’s still very middle school PG, it is the greatest thing that has ever happened.

satisfied his job is done and he's saved the universe from collapsing under the weight of his friends’ pining, kim walks towards the corner. he squints at pete. pete stares back in confusion. then kim turns to kenta and, in a very businesslike manner, says “i will kiss you now.” kenta stands there like 🧍‍♂️and, in a very businesslike manner, replies: “k.”

kim then proceeds to kiss kenta in a very un-businesslike manner and pete’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

eventually kim staggers back and promptly declares “i’m going to throw up now.” kenta experiences a second of absolute mortification because fuck, was kissing him that bad? but really, the herbal spirits have finally caught up. kim takes three steps before turning around and asking “well, are you coming?” kenta looks at pete helplessly and pete just shrugs because wow.

but of course kenta goes with kim. they walk to the nearest bathroom, open the door and then immediately slam it shut again. kenta is feeling a bit sick now himself. he had no idea babe was so flexible and would have happily lived the rest of his life without the visual confirmation. they collectively decide to head for the upstairs bathroom on the total opposite end of the house, just in case.

the party kind of dies down after that. a giggling alan drags jeff upstairs. north and sonic have totally forgotten they are still standing in the middle of a room and there’s nothing middle school about their wandering hands. charlie and babe are doing irreversible damage to the bathroom sink. so pete just… slinks away.

he drives to the nearest bar where he finds way's ghost finishing up a bottle of tequila because he had no access to alan’s jungle juice. which is depressed and spiritually very wet and pathetic and pete is just so very tired. so fuck it.

“i know it's not midnight anymore,” he tells way and then totally quotes alan by adding “but i want to spend the next year by your side.” he leans down to press a very delicate kiss to the corner of way’s mouth before whispering “let me take you home.” way leans back against him, closes his eyes and says, “okay” and it’s a new year’s eve miracle.

bonus:

somewhere, in another bar, dean is hustling money by playing pool. winner slams the bar door open, stalks to dean in a full baddie mode and says, “happy new year, bitch” and proceeds to kiss dean with enough tongue that they get thrown out immediately. well, okay, the staff might have excused the tongue but then dean went and grabbed a fistful of winner’s hair and winner’s knees buckled as he moaned like a porn star and a line had to be drawn somewhere.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Epilogue)

summary: a year after their confrontation with the corrupted lords, a fleeting thought crosses astarion's mind as he watches you admiring the crack of dawn.

rating: E

word count: 4.5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. time skip, fluff (in my angsty fanfic? its more likely than you think!), emotional smut. full list on ao3

a/n: gods, what a ride! this was my very first long fic, and im very happy with how it turned out, considering i had NO idea how this would end up when i first started it! this ending was one of three, based on the poll yall have taken on the second chapter. i hope it lives up to your expectations and im looking forward to all the feedback! this is not my only work, if you wanna be tagged on my other works, feel free to let me know and ill add you to the tag list. thank you all for sticking along! <3

Masterlist

previous chapter

read on ao3

or keep reading down below~

You're part of the dawn where the light comes from the dark

You're a part of the morning and everything matters

And we are, an atom and a star

You're a part of the movement and everything matters

-

It has been a year since your transformation. A year since you officially died and came back as Astarion’s dark consort; his bride, his eternal love. Since the incident with the corrupted nobles, you’ve only grown stronger, as much as a vampire – and he couldn’t be more proud of you – than as a couple.

Your return among his court was gradual. You were reluctant at first: the lingering fear from the dreadful soiree you experienced still affected you, so Astarion let you watch from the shadows; he would never force you to do something you didn't want to. It's only after two more months that you asked if you could attend, and only if you could stay by his side; your social anxiety wouldn't let you be alone in a room with so many strangers without feeling as if you were asphyxiated. He was beyond thrilled by your request, as he wanted nothing more than to introduce the whole world to his beloved.

It took some more time, but you found yourself joining in on discussions with lords about the state of the city and its economic state. Your teachings were buried deep in your memory, but you retained the most important parts of them, using those to show your knowledge and bring forward ideas to save the city from its downfall following the mindflayer attack. To your surprise, you found yourself right at your place within the high society; it was in your blood after all, and what was the point of running from it when you were clearly a natural? You found out that it was never your title that you dreaded, but rather the association to your parents and contributing to their schemes — something you were glad to not be a part of anymore.

The change was almost seamless: one day you were attached to Astarion's arm, never leaving his side, and the next, you were strolling through the crowd, knowing everyone's name, their occupation, and how influential they were. While Astarion was able to persuade more nobles to ally with him, you’ve been very successful at swaying people to your advantage, using your charms and wits to redirect power from the right people for the good of the city; together, you’re considered the strongest couple in Baldur’s Gate.

You proved yourself countless times, and he was always delighted to present you as his partner.

His equal.

After yet another successful night of dancing and socialising, one where you had convinced a neighbouring lord to fund an orphanage for the children who had lost their parents in the attack, you met up with your lover in your chambers to celebrate the news. In truth, everything you accomplished was a great reason to celebrate.

To see you act with the might of a Lady, smart and witty, and use every tool you had to your advantage made him swoon over you, and one of the best ways to express it was to worship you in bed, spending hours and hours devoting himself to you.

It’s something you thought you would struggle with — the intimacy after the violence you had endured — but you found yourself easily melting in his embrace once you were back at the palace. Just like that first night you spent together and he had let you guide that dance; upon your return, he let you take control until you were the one asking for him to take you however and wherever he wanted, how you grew to crave his touch, the look in his eyes when a sinful thought was shared across your connection, and the faint blush you could spy on cheeks and ears as he painted his vision of you via your bond. The endless teasing throughout the evening sure made the meetings more interesting, and less dreadful, if you had to admit it.

After a great season of events, Astarion cancelled all his meetings for the next tenday to devote his attention to you, and you only. No one was to disturb either of you unless they had a death wish.

And the night of that last meeting, any restraints had broken down, when you almost threw yourself at each other as soon as your last visitor had left the palace. It started out in the hallways, but you were quickly brought into his room to have the privacy you required. You spent the remainder of the night in bed, switching from making love to cuddling, until you were back to straddle him for more; unable to leave the other’s side or even spend a second without your bodies touching.

He kissed each and every part of your body, showing his devotion to you in such a delicate manner that turned you to putty in his hands, embracing away any pain your body had gone through. This past year, he had been the most attentive lover; always in the moment with you, making sure that your eyes met as his hips collided with yours, sharing the same breath that united you both, body and soul. As your bodies fused and you both came undone, you could sense the love, the utter adoration he had for you. Both of you grounded the other and reminded each other that you were not the result of your past; only you chose what to make of it.

There was no one else in the world who could understand you better than each other.

It’s only when you noticed dawn approaching as you nuzzled into his chest, that you realised how long you had been indulging in the other. You chuckled and commented on how you both could use some sleep, since if one of you was tired, the other would be too, and really, how impractical it would be to have you both incapacitated at once.

He took a look at you as he lazily caressed your hair and that’s when he was reminded of the one thing that had been on his mind these last few months. The one thing he dreaded, but couldn’t avoid anymore.

“There is a way, you know…” he said, his voice soft. “To sever the bond. Between creator and consort.” He pauses as you lift your head, frowning as you meet his gaze, and for a second he doubts if he should carry on, but quickly pushes the doubts aside; you deserved to know. To have a chance to decide for yourself, without any ultimatum.

“It is mostly painless,” he continued, “You would remain as you are, a full fledged vampire, but we wouldn’t share our connection anymore; no more mental discussion, no more shared sensations.” You looked at him with a thousand questions in your eyes, as this was the last thing you expected this morning. “I am willing to go through the procedure for you, should you desire it.”

You remained silent through your blinking, until you finally found the words that fought to get out. “You would… really do that?”

This proposition felt so unlike the Astarion who once had you chained up in his dungeons, something that he had agreed had been, and you quote, ‘impolite’, since you last spoke about it. He didn’t regret it — you wouldn’t be in his arms otherwise — but he supposed there could’ve been a better way to talk to you at the reunion.

“As much as I want to keep you all to myself, I can’t bring myself to keep you bound to me after what you’ve been through. It… wouldn’t be fair for me to make that decision for you. I want you to have the chance to make the choice yourself.”

You scanned his expression, and although you saw the sincerity, you also sensed grief. Breaking your bond would sever any type of connection between you both. A part of you would die along with it, and you would lose the possibility of lingering in each other's mind. Even though you understood his intentions, it didn’t make sense for him to propose this when he finally had you to himself. Against your best judgement, you peeked into his mind, searching for an explanation, and what you found completely shattered you.

By offering this to you, Astarion understood that there was a chance you might just… leave. With nothing holding you back, linking you to him, he thought you had no reason to stay. That the sole reason keeping you here was this bond, and even with how close you had become, how much you had grown together in your relationship, how utterly in love you were — in that moment, under all the false confidence, you saw right through him; he was convinced that once the bond was broken, you would leave. Run away from this mess that had been life at his side, and find someone who truly deserved you, saw you for your worth. That you could only degrade yourself if you stayed after what he had put you through. He didn’t believe for a second that you would continue to put up with this life if you had the choice, and yet, here he was proposing it to you, offering you this way out.

You gave him a soft smile, a reassuring one that you hoped carried the intention you had.

“I… would like that.” He nodded, understanding that this was a possibility, and he hoped you would take this opportunity, if only for your own sake, but it didn't hurt any less. “But I do have a condition.”

He smiled sadly, his features softening at hearing you bargaining, a bittersweet reminder of how all of this started. “Anything for you, my dear.”

It’s the warmth of the sun’s embrace that stirs Astarion awake this morning. Gods, he will never tire of it. If only for this reason, his ascension was well worth it, and no one will ever convince him otherwise.

You let your minds connect, telling him your request through your bond, and when you saw the light sparkle in his ruby eyes and his face light up, you knew there was nothing in the world he would like more.

-

That, and seeing his reflection again. He's lost count of the times he spent admiring himself; pausing at every mirror he had meticulously installed around the palace, stealing glances at his reflection, and lingering at the colour of his deep ruby eyes. Those same eyes that had sealed the fate of so many unfortunate souls; these deadly, beautiful weapons, that keep helping him charm the right people. How he went two hundred years without enjoying the sight of himself has him completely astounded. Needless to say, this was an issue no more, and long gone were the days of misery; Nearly two years later, he had everything he ever wanted, at long last.

Everything, and yet his most prized possession remained this little human fighter turned bride.

Really, the only person he ever truly wanted, that he ever loved, even. A feeling that had felt most foreign once upon a time. He never thought he could experience such a strong emotion, something that was forbidden to him just over three years ago — something he would’ve considered a weakness — turned into his greatest strength. A feeling that overwhelmed him to the point where he couldn’t restrain himself from physically expressing it; taking his dark consort in every room, every surface of the palace, until they were both panting, eyes half-lidded and lost in one another. That same feeling that would now have him chanting out her name all night long as he devoted himself to her; her body, her pleasure, her desire for him. How utterly blessed he was to have her just as enamoured for him as he was for her.

As he finally awakens from his reverie, he quickly picks up on the empty spot next to him. Curious, he thinks, she was never the early bird. When he lifts himself on his elbows, that's when he sees her on his balcony, and he takes the time to admire her; his consort, his love, still by his side through it all, blessed by the rising sun’s warmth. It took over a year more after their engagement, as Astarion couldn’t believe her decision to stay, but he finally got over the fear of losing her. After everything that had happened, and the opportunity she was given, she chose to stay and have a life with him. After everything, she still loved him just as deeply, and that day at the altar, she promised to spend the rest of her undead life showing him just how much she did love him.

Content with the sight of her, he finally gets up to join her on the balcony, without bothering to dress up. He sneaks up on her, snuggling her from behind, his hands wrapping around her waist, while he leaves playful kisses along her neck and shoulder to greet her.

“Mmmh, hello my treasure,” he murmurs in the crook of her neck. “Can’t sleep?”

“I was just admiring the sun,” she hums. “It’s funny, I never really bothered to appreciate it until I thought I could never be under its light,” she takes a deep breath as she closes her eyes, taking in the warmth she was basking in. “I never quite realised how beautiful this world is.”

She sighs in his embrace, but it's almost a moan, as she pushes back against him for more contact, “I didn’t think I would disturb you from your precious beauty sleep.”

He can hear her smile through her mumbling, and he smiles in return, “It’s your sleep I’m rather worried about dear.” His kisses linger on her neck, over the bite marks he birthed upon her skin an eternity ago. “And I think you should join me back in bed to remedy it.”

She laughs, “I’m not sure your idea of rest coincides with mine,” she turns around to face him and rests her hands on his bare chest. “Actually, I rather believe you will wear me out more than anything.”

He smirks as he presses her against the edge of the balcony, lifting her nightgown up before propping her up to rest atop it, guiding her legs to wrap around him. “Do you really think so little of me? That I would drag you to bed only to satisfy my carnal desires?”

“Well,” she rolls her eyes as she smiles, “you haven’t given me a reason that proves you would do otherwise.”

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, and in the same movement, he wraps his arms around her waist and leans into the nape of her neck, resuming his sweet attention. When his smile widens, he feels the creases in his cheeks, depicting the countless moments of happiness she brought him since she has blessed him with her company.

“I assure you, my love, my intentions were most pure,” he purrs.

She tilts her head aside, offering him more liberties with her neck. “Were they now? Well, if you say so, then I’m sure I can trust you to carry me to bed where I shall resume my rest.”

“Ah, but I’m afraid the offer has expired. You see,” his finger hooks the string of her nightgown, pulling it down, “now, all I can offer,” he pulls down the other one, revealing your breasts to the morning breeze, “is a morning spent fulfilling our matrimonial duties.” “Matrimonial duties?” She exclaims ironically. “What unholy thoughts have you got in mind, I wonder.”

“I could show you, if you would indulge me,” his kisses over her skin become sloppy, his teeth softly grazing her skin while his tongue leaves a faint trail of saliva from her shoulder up to her ear, playfully nibbling it, while one hand reaches for her breast and the other finds its way in the heat between her legs.

“Ah– Astarion…” Her playful tone is replaced by soft moans as he takes a salacious pleasure in touching her in her most sensitive spots.

“What’s that, dear?” His fingers slide against her folds, not yet daring to dip further.

She groans, “You are incorrigible.”

“And yet, I don’t hear you asking me to stop,” he pinches her nipple between his fingers with the hand massaging her generous chest, while his other hand brushes over her clit, lingering near her entrance but intentionally avoiding it. As he hears her ragged breath, he pulls away, cutting any contact between the two of them, and languidly sucks on his fingers to taste her wetness, while his gaze focuses on her, before releasing his fingers with a pop. He tilts his head, with a playful look in his eyes, “Unless that’s what you want?”

She looks at him with lust clouding her vision, barely containing herself, “If you intend on teasing me, my lord, I hope you know what you’ve got coming for you.”

He leans back, assessing the vision of his consort completely lost in her need for him, with a salacious smile tugging at his lips, “My, my, is my little love threatening me?”

“Oh no,” her hands sneak into his hair to grab a handful of it before lightly pulling back and leaning into his ear, murmuring, “This is a promise.”

She lets go of his hair, leaving her hands wandering, and when their eyes meet again, they are darkened by their shared passion for each other. His voice comes out deeper, as he closes the distance between them, their lips now but a whisper apart.

“Then I believe I should make haste to tend to your needs, my lady.”

Their lips finally meet into a passionate kiss, the tenderness of it even surprising Astarion — considering the eager tone she had previously used — but he melts into it, pouring all of his longing into the kiss, just as she does when her hands pull back to hold his face closer. He picks her up from the edge of the balcony and carries her back into their room, where he lays her out on their bed and removes her nightgown, slowly unravelling her soft skin to the morning afterglow. The sight of her, bare before him — only for him; with her legs parted and inviting him in, her body bearing only the bite marks he had given her — is enough to break any restraints left in him. He couldn’t bear to tease her longer, he needed her as much as she needed him.

Licking his lips, he kneels at the end of the bed, crawling his way up to his wife. He lifts her leg over his shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses up to the apex of her thighs, until he reaches the centre of his desire. He breathes her in, the scent of her pleasure stirring something deep within him, before his tongue finds its way between her slick folds, where he finally licks her, from the bottom of her entrance right up to her clit.

She moans softly, already lost to the magic of his tongue, and that's when he lifts her thighs over his shoulders, locking her legs around him, and holding them in place to feast on his meal.

His tongue dives into her, reaching into the depth of her cunt and drinking in her nectar, the effects of it visibly affecting him, as his hardened cock throbs between his belly and the soft sheets of the bed. His hips move unconsciously, searching for a temporary relief as he moves his tongue out of her to lick his way back up, where he finds her swollen bud.

While his hand sneaks away from her thighs, into her dripping entrance, his eyes flick up to find her unravelling before him; her head thrown back, and her hands grabbing at the sheets, holding on for dear life.

“Gods, please…” she begs, her breathing failing her, and he smiles between her legs, as he pumps two fingers into her.

With a final flick of his tongue over her clit, he lifts his head up, still hitting that sweet spot inside of her, “Yes, little love?”

“I… I need you— gods, I need you.”

“You have me, my love,” he says, his voice soft like velvet. “All of me, however you wish.”

He knew what she meant, but he wanted to hear her say it. He would never tire of having her melt under his touch, coming apart under him.

“Inside me,” she whimpers as she clenches around his fingers working wonders inside of her. “Now.”

The urgency of her tone was clearly noticeable, but Astarion wants to push her further, “But I am inside you, my dear.”

She lifts herself up on her elbows, her hair completely dishevelled and her chest rising with each deep breath, staring down her husband with a mix of fury and lust. “If you don’t fuck me right this instant— Ahhh ffffuck!”

While she was talking, Astarion went back to teasing her sensitive bud and accelerating the pace of his fingers thrusting in. “Oh, I’ll fuck you alright. By the time I'm done with your delicious cunt, you’ll only see stars, my sweet.”

He could easily make her go over the edge only with his mouth and his fingers; he had done it countless times in the past already, he was well aware of his abilities, but nothing compared to the feeling of her tightening around his cock and milking him dry while he pumped every drop of his seed into her. It was his favourite way to come with her, and he took great pleasure in making her shatter in every way imaginable. They had all the time in the world to discover the many ways she would cum under his touch.

“Mmh ahh— Pleasepleaseplease Astarion, I want to feel you inside of me, I’m begging you—” Her words get lost in her throat, instead replaced by cries as she nears her climax, until—

“Ah,” Astarion pulls away completely, “but how could I deny my lovely wife when she begs so beautifully.”

Her groans turn into small cries as his teasing starts to overwhelm her, and that’s when he drops her legs down on their bed and crawls over her, aligning himself with her swollen pussy, before linking their hands together to pin her down. He leans down and stops right before kissing her, simply to push her to the limits of her patience, and when she hisses at him for being just out of reach, he shoves his cock inside of her, stilling her.

He remains unmoving, always taking his time with his first thrust to take in the feelings of her tight walls, pulsing around him. Astarion rests his forehead on hers, their eyes lost in the other, carrying the words they had learned to communicate aloud after they had broken their bond.

Carrying on with this ritual had pushed them to communicate better and work on their relationship, creating a new type of bond with the other. They had learned to understand the other’s body language so well that sometimes, a simple look was enough to communicate their exact thoughts from across the room.

His fingers dig into the mattress as he tightens his hold on her, and he resumes his languid strokes, “Focus darling. I want to see every little expression you make while I fuck you. Can you do that for me?”

She tries to nod, but his depraved speech only pushes her further and faster to her climax, as she fights to keep her eyes open and focused on him.

When he feels her cunt’s grip thighten around him, he can barely contain himself anymore, “Fuck, just like that, love,” his groans and the wet sound of their hips slapping against each other gets only louder as he accelerates the pace, nearing his own climax, “Gods, you’re so tight around me— I’m gonna fill you up to the brim, and you’re gonna take it all like the good girl you are.”

A few more thrusts is all it takes to send her over the edge, screaming out as her climax erupts through her like electricity flowing through her veins, followed quickly by Astarion who stills inside of her, shooting thick ropes of come that leak out from her, into their bedsheets. It was the least of his worries right now — he could always change them later, but they would be ruined in the following hour regardless.

They both remain panting, basking in the bliss of this aftermath, until he takes a look at their hands still intertwined. On her right hand, he spies the sparkling diamond ring adorning her finger, the public display of their unison matching his own, and he brings it to his lips for a brief kiss, before taking the time to admire it, thinking back to how it all started.

“I told you, Lady Ancunín suits you beautifully, my love.”

She smiles sweetly, eyes tired from their lovemaking, “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

And he knew she spoke the truth. Their marriage didn't only solidify their relationship, but it protected her from solicitors who might've been tempted to try giving her advances after the news of Virric's death had been propagated, and by taking Astarion's last name, she was free from any remaining links to her family, a name she detached herself from completely years ago already, now legally unbinded.

She didn't even need to explain the extent of her reasoning; the second she proposed, Astarion was on his way to commission matching rings for them. Truth be told, he had wanted to make the proposal himself, but after knowing of her past with Virric, he didn’t dare bring it up first. She did give him the chance to announce the news at their next soiree, and it's the only thing he had spoken about that evening.

They would be Aeterna Amantes. Lovers forever, until the world burns down.

Gods know that he would burn the world down himself if she merely asked — not that she would ever, he knew her better than that — and she was the only one he would ever get on his knees for.

She was the goddess who finally answered his prayers that had gone unanswered all these years ago; the sun that made him feel alive once more; the brightest star that guided him throughout the night; the very reason he decided to live on, and yet, if it came to it, he knew he would die for her.

-

Pars avant l'aube

Quand la lumière veut nous voir

Quelque part dans le monde

Un oiseau s'endort sans bruit

Toi et moi

Dans la nuit on trouvera

Quelque part où déposer

Les fleurs qu'on a cueillies

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera @annnagennnie @angeldarkness95 @marlowethebard @hellethil @frankie-mercury @ariajc79