#ooc: will do my best

[pixlatedvampire]

hi the literal whole entire reason i made these was bc i watched this 10 sec clip on youtube pls watch

[sweetmapple]

Mostly Hiring manager, but HR manager and PR manager too

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

but i crumble completely when you cry . .

katsuki comforts you

katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things

he hates people who walk slow, he hates people who chew loudly or people who talk loud in places they know damn well they shouldn’t.

he hates when people walk on the back of his shoe and he hates idiots like kaminari who talk during movies.

but most of all, katsuki bakugou hates seeing you cry.

it sparks something in him, something red, hot and so angry when he finds you in your dorm. tears running down your cheeks that show no sign of stopping. he hates it even more when you make eye contact and you curl into yourself even more from where you’re sitting on the floor.

katsuki immediately decides this is the thing he hates the most.

he’s on you in seconds, kneeling in front of you, searching around to get a peek of your face hidden in your knees. he places his hands on top of yours where they’re wrapped around your legs and his chest tightens when you flinch a little.

“ who was it ? who did this to you ?” he can’t recognize his own voice, his words come out so fast he barely registers what he’s saying.

you try to speak but nothing but more broken sobs and shaky breaths come out as you desperately try to catch your breath and katsuki realizes that you talking isn’t a priority right now.

his eyebrows are furrowed and he almost looks angry but he’s so, so worried. if anything, he’s angry at himself for being so helpless, for not being able to help you in a time where you clearly need it.

he grabs your shoulder softly and the weight his chest lightens slightly when you lean a little closer to him, before letting him pull you tightly into his arms

“breathe for me.” he utters softly, voice gruff and gravelly. he never actually talks this softly unless he’s around you, the difference is so stark it surprises him a little bit but he’s got more important things to think about. praise spills from him occasionally, muttering a “you got it. i got you” into your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

katsuki’s never really had to comfort anyone, he’s never felt the need to, but you’re not just anyone. your different, you’re his. his love his everything and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his hardest for you.

you’ve calmed down a little bit, he noticed. you’re breathings calmed down a little and your sobs have been reduced to snivels. the tightness in his lungs is still there, but it’s less now.

“what’s goin’ on with you, hm ?” you’re grip tightens on his arm and you shove your head deeper into his chest. he moves his head away from your shoulder so he can place two small kisses on the top of your head

“talk to me, baby. needa know what’s up with you.” he pleads into the crown of your head. you sigh before speaking up.

“ i don’t know what’s up with me i just- it’s nothing bad i’m—” you’re desperately searching for the right words to use so what you’re about to say makes sense. “i just don’t—feel like myself today. i don’t know why, i just feel really bad today.” you let out a humorless chuckle and your voice dies out when you finish “m’sorry if i worried you” you sniffle.

he shushes you, his grip on you tightens when he hears you whimper “don’t..don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, got no reason to.” he spits. he sounds angry, and he is, why should you ever feel the need to apologize for feeling some type of way around him ?

“s’okay for you to feel that way..i do too, sometimes, you know ?” he knows you do. he knows you do because there are times where he comes to your room in tears, shaking and panicked. completely and utterly lost from the nightmares that had plagued him minutes before but knowing he had to come see you. you were there for him every time, gently soothing him and assuring him that he’d be okay. he owed it to you to do the same for you.

“s’okay to feel like shit sometimes, happens to the best of us.” he whispers “ but you can always come to me when you do, can deal with it together. an’ don’t go thinkin’ yer ‘bothering’ me either.” he says, parroting what you had just told him. “we’re together for a reason, dummy.” he’s soft spoken and his voice is so mellow despite his harsh little nickname for you, you could’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting so close to you, it makes you a little dizzy and a little weaker in you’re already mushy knees.

he grabs your shoulders gently to get your eyes on him. they’re still a little glossy but they’re a little less dull when he looks at you “ we’re in this together, always have been, always will be, got it ? “ he asserts, waiting for your response. and then you smile at him, it’s faint but it’s there and katsuki feels like he can breathe again. he smiles back softly at you when you respond with a soft “okay.”

you suddenly grab onto him and pull him into you tightly, locking him in a tight embrace and squeezing like you’re pressing a lemon. it throws him off for a second before he’s squeezing you just as hard, pressing your body against his.

“thank you, katsuki. you’re the best” you hum. he presses a long lingering kiss to your temple as response, before squeezing around your waist “ course i am.” he gloats. the smirk on his lips grows when you snort in response “what’re you laughing about, hah? don’t think so? don’t think i’m the best ?” he jests, using this as an opportunity to tickle you mercilessly. you kick and squirm but it’s no use, katsuki doesn’t stop until you’re a heaving , giggling mess. tears in your eyes as you plead and beg for him to stop but he doesn’t let up even when you’re laying on the ground with him on top of you.

“ i ain’t hearing what i wanna hear, you know what i want from you, baby.” he chuckles at the way you desperately gasp for breath, choking on your own spit in the process.

“y-you’re the ! the best, ‘suki ! the b-bestest of the best !” you gasp out, pushing blindly at his face to get him away from you and he finally let’s you go. “felt nice enough to let you off with a warning, won’t end well for ya if you try me again.” is what he says, playfully warning you and waving his finger around in your face. you’re completely out of breath, there are tears in your eyes again but they’re happy tears this time and you still can’t stop smiling and giggling as you try to bite at his finger and katsuki is more than happy with this.

because katsuki’s favorite thing is your smile.

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[in-kaeya-we-thrust]

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉthis is a little request its a evil cycle iruma x reader if you don't mind🥲

So i just wanted to ask if you could do evil cycle iruma x reader that's is the most sensitive person in the Netherworld and clingness and the whole school is already praying for reader safety when their with evil cycle iruma 🥲 and when making reader cry during the evil cycle iruma makes it up to them by Privately making out with them untill their breathless

If you don't or can't do it that totally alright! If you do it (*ˊᗜˋ*)ᵗᑋᵃᐢᵏ ᵞᵒᵘ have a nice day!

Breathless

tags/warnings: iruma x gn!reader, evil cycle iruma-kun, pre-established relationship, demon reader, rank zayin iruma, 5th year iruma, aged-up characters, slight angst, hurt/comfort, slight NSFW (they're 18 here dw)

a/n: Don't worry bae, I got you. However, it is my first time writing something a lil spicy, lower your expectations pls.

More evil cycle iruma here!: purple iruma, hate or love

"Have you heard? Iruma-kun is causing a scene in the cafeteria."

"Eh, isn't that how he usually is?"

"No, today's different..."

You were walking down the halls of Babylys, when you heard demons talking about Iruma, your boyfriend. Yoy've gotten pretty used of it by now, considering how popular he is at school. No, not only in school, but in the whole netherworld. Sullivan Iruma, the principal's grandson, rank zayin (7), and one of the future demon king candidates. What more would you expect?

You just shrugged and paid their gossips no mind. Whatever Iruma is doing right now, you trust that he's not doing anything mischievous. He's literally the most pure hearted demon you know in the netherworld! You opened your hellphone to look at the message that Iruma left you this morning.

'Good morning, Y/N-san! I'll be back at Babylys today. See you at school later!'

You couldn't help but smile at his message. It's your third time reading his text today and you still melt at his sweetness. Iruma was sent on a mission by the thirteen crowns. You had no doubt that he'll succeed and Iruma did not disappoint!

But you missed him so muchhhhh. Your feet found their way to his current location, as per the rumors. You were about to enter the cafeteria when somebody grabbed your arm and started pulling you away. "Y/N! We're gonna be late for class, let's go!"

"Aww, but I want to see Irumaaaaa." you whined.

"You'll see him later at the awarding ceremony. Don't be such a baby." Eiko laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. Gaako did the same. Well, she did witness both of your fangirl antics about Iruma since you were first years. You pouted and just let yourself get dragged away to misery.

You weren't paying that much attention to class, mind filled with your lover. It's been two weeks since you last saw Iruma... it's also been two weeks since you last had cuddles! You missed his affection so badly that you went to his house yesterday to welcome him back with a hug and a few kisses, but Opera-san stopped you from meeting him as he needed his rest. You sighed for the nth time today, and this time, you grabbed the teacher's attention.

"L/N,"

"Y-Yes, Momonoki-sensei?" You sprung from your seat in surprise. You gulped, the last thing that you want to experience is embarassing yourself in front of the class.

"Are you okay? You seem down. You can go to the infirmary if you want?" Momonoki-sensei sincerely offered.

You let out a sigh of relief and kindly rejected her offer. You sat down and decided to sulk in silence this time.

Then, the awarding ceremony finally came. You hummed a happy song, skipping through the hallways, excited to see Iruma. Finally, finally!

However, to your surprise, the demon that ascended the stage wasn't your every day Iruma...

He's different.

It's not your first time seeing him in his evil cycle, as his first evil cycle did get him Royal One when you were still first years, but it's the first time you saw him pissed in that state. Not even a smirk nor a cunning smile was plastered on his face. Iruma's wearing a frown as Kalego-sensei gives him his award. The whole auditorium went wild when Kalego-sensei enumerated Iruma's achievements in a span of two weeks. However, the audience was quickly silenced with the click of Iruma's tongue. He sent a glare at the whole auditorium and went down the stage without a single world. Following his tail (as if he has one lol) was, of course, his friends, Asmodeus and Clara.

With Iruma gone, demons started leaving the auditorium. You, on the other hand, have other plans. You tried squeezing your way through the crowd, hoping to chase after Iruma-kun.

"Y/N, where are you going?" Someone grabbed your wrist, stopping you from getting away. It's Gaako.

"I'm going to find Iruma and talk to him. I also... want to be there for him." you responded.

"Really? You're going to talk to him? In that state?! Are you out of your mind?" she exclaimed. Both Gaako and Eiko looked at you with worried faces.

"You're overreacting. I'm his partner, I'll be fine." You said confidently before wriggling away from their grasp.

You heard them shout your name once again but you proceeded without looking back. You reached the back of the stage and there you saw Asmodeus and Clara standing in front of a door, quietly arguing with each other. It only took a few seconds for them to notice you, making them stop.

"Y/N-san..."

"What happened, Asmodeus-san? Is Iruma doing alright?" you asked in a worried tone.

"Iruma-chi told us to leave him alone." Clara pouted.

"We didn't know what happened. Iruma-sama was already in his evil cycle as soon as he arrived in Babylys. I presume something happened during his mission." Asmodeus sighed.

"But he was still himself this morning, see?" You pulled out your hellphone from your pocket snd showed them his text this morning. "Either way, I'm going inside. Wish me luck." Your hand finds it's way to the doorknob.

Asmodeus' face turned pale. "Y/N-san, I don't think that's a good idea-"

"I'll be fine, you guys worry too much." You chuckled.

You were just in the middle of opening the door when your body suddenly felt cold, making you shiver.

"What part of 'leave me alone' do you not understand..." There was something off about his voice; black smoke started coming out of his ring. "Fuck off!" Iruma snapped, purple shards came shooting at your way. You yelped in fear when one shard almost hit you, just passing by your right cheek. Your hands shook as you held your face. It's the first time he shouted at you... It's the first time he tried to hurt you. You didn't even know he was capable of doing that.

"S-Sorry..." was the only response you managed to stutter before closing the door again.

Asmodeus and Clara looked at you with horror and pity, witnessing the whole event. Before you know it, your tears started to fall. You tried to wipe the tears away, hands still shaking, but it just won't stop flowing.

"I think I'll get going now." You ran as fast as you could, hand clenched over your chest. It hurts. You didn't get hit but it feels like something sharp pierced through your heart. You should've listened. You should've left him alone. It's all your fault. You were too preoccupied with your feelings that you didn't notice the sound of someone leaving the room and shouting your name.

You stopped running when you finally reached the school gates. Auspiciously, you were alone. Not a single student was seen on the school grounds, as classes were still on-going. You crouched down and hugged your knees as you cried your heart out.

Suddenly, you saw a tall shadow casted over yours on the ground. You looked up to see who it was. "Opera-san..." you sobbed.

They carried you in their arms and lightly patted your bsck, comforting you. "It's okay, Y/N-sama. Let's get you home, shall we?" You hugged their neck and hummed in response. Suddenly, your body felt light. Opera-san started jumping from here to there, making their way to your home.

Before you know it, you fell asleep. You only realized when you woke up in a dark, familiar room. You sat on the edge of the bed as you recalled what you experienced today. Your eyes sting from all the crying you did earlier. You stared at the thick, cozy blanket bundled beside you.

"You're awake,"

You flinched when you heard a foreign yet familiar voice. A familiar silhouette stood by the other side of the room, leaning on the door frame. Then, realization hit you. This is not your room. Opera-san was the one who brought you home. But they didn't tell you whose home, did they?

In a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on. Your eyes finally meet... "Iruma,"

He started walking towards the bed, his bed, towards you. You avoided his gaze, still upset at him. He sat beside you with a small distance between the two of you, giving you space. No one talked. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at him so you just stared at the carpet and fidgeted with your hands. You bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from crying. He's so close and yet he feels so far.

"Eek!" He suddenly grabbed your chin and turned your face towards him. His dark violet orbs stared into yours.

Before you know it, Iruma's lips was against yours, kissing you tenderly. His kisses were soft, as if he was careful that you might break, contrasting his new personality. You just sat still, letting him shower you with kisses. When he finally pulled away, he looked at you with guilty eyes. He put his hand on top of yours and gave it a little squeeze.

"I... I wasn't myself earlier." he started. "Something happened... It made my mana go out of control. It's dangerous for me to be around other demons. So, I tried to shut myself away. I'm sorry..." He apologized again, voice full of regret and pain. "I-If you can't forgive me, it's fine. You don't have to force yourself to be with me after I hurt you-"

You started sobbing again. No, you cried, loudly. Iruma panicked, seeing you break down in front of him. Then, he embraced you. "You were so mean! I was just worried but you told me to fuck off!" you cried like a baby.

"I know, I know, I'm a complete jerk. I'm sorry," Iruma brushed your hair, doing his best to sooothe you.

"Is it my fault that I miss you so much? You were gone for two weeks!" you whined. "And now you're saying we should break up? Are you out of your mind?"

You punched him lightly on his stomach, making him chuckle soflty "Ouch,"

You break way from his embrace and glared at him. "And now you're making fun of me."

He reached out his hands to gently wipe your tears away. After that, he held your face lovingly and placed two kisses on the side of your eyes. "I missed you too," His eyes stared at you with so much sincerity that you forgave him on the spot. You noticed his gaze went from your eyes then to your pouty lips... eyes lingering a little longer than usual.

Noticing this, you grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. You kissed him. Iruma was taken aback, but it only took him a few moments to respond to your lips. If the kiss you shared earlier was soft and full of care, this time, the way you kissed each other is full of passion and longing. Damn, you really missed him so much. Iruma's hand finds its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss. Feeling a little bold, you lightly bit his bottom lip, earning a groan from him.

He immediately pulled away. You were about to complain but you were caught off guard when he suddenly pushed you down on his bed. He fixed your positions, with him now towering over you. "You..." Iruma stared at you from above, his face red as a tomato, obviously flustered. He pushed his bangs upwards using his fingers. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he scoffed with a smirk. "Then you better take responsibility for your actions."

The next thing you know, he went down on you, kissing you ravishly. Iruma's kisses are now rough and desperate, rendering you completely breathless. He playfully bit your lower lip, earning a whimper from you. With your lips slightly parted, he took the opportunity to invade your mouth. You let out a soft moan at the new sensation, his tongue against yours. Your breathing became heavier as Iruma explored every corner of your mouth. Your grip on his shirt tightened as your make out session became more and more heated.

It's the first time you both shared this type of kiss. Iruma, the innocent one, usually gets overwhelmed every time you get intimate. Your kisses were limited to small, quick pecks on the lips. You guessed it had something to do with his confidence. But now that he's in his evil cycle, confidence at peak, there are no more shackles to hold him back.

You felt something hard pressed against your pelvis, making you whimper.

You internally thanked the missing demon king that you both don't have classes tomorrow because you're not sure you'll still be able to function properly after this.

[officialbruciewayne]

"I'm not sure you're ready to be standing yet," Bruce said quietly, gently as he helped support JJ with a hand. Eyebrows furrowing over his domino- unused to that part of his face feeling so exposed. It left the vivid temple bruise in mottled red and purple where he'd been shot on display.

His gaze- hidden at least by the domino -drifted over Ra's al Ghul's slackened form. Absorbing Tim's complete report and current strategy. They needed to save Ra's al Ghul, but after that, Bruce was unsure what would be best. The last thing Damian needed was this man, even vegetative, in his life...

He shook his head, "We're not leaving yet, lad," he told Tim. "As far as Batgirl and I can determine, Alleytown could come crashing down any moment and we do not have time to evacuate. We will lose an entire section of the city to Lazarus Fever- some of its most vulnerable and impoverished members -at a time when we have owls circling the Pit."

A code for Tim's ears, but probably distinctive enough to anyone with League training.

Bruce's ears pricked at Tim's own code- the tapping- he answered it back. Repeating Tim's code - L-O-L - then tagging it - 2-U-2. He wasn't sure why Tim was still signalling, but that was the answer.

"Ra's' condition- and... specifics -only confirm this to me, that leaving is not an option," Bruce continued firmly. He shot a glance towards Altair, and thought about how best to signal this to Tim and Cass without letting Altair in...

There wasn't any clean, quick way to do so.

He spoke quickly, and bluntly, "how can we stop Alleytown from falling." And then turned his head towards Altair. "How do we stop the League?"

@shh-its-cass @alzhul @redrobinfr @joker-junior

Following Cass further into the labyrinth, aware that at any moment Alleytown could come crashing through the ceiling, Bruce continued to contemplate which problems to solve, and the order it would have to be done in, what resources were available.

Could they stop Alleytown's destruction? The League's victory speech suggested that there was no way to evacuate in time. Even if nobody died, and the Lazarus Lake could restore every civilian, there was still the problem of an entire borough of Gotham with Lazarus Fever.

There was Altair to deal with, Tim had reported his presence and that Ra's was not a threat- as Bruce had suspected from JJ's photograph of the man, restrained and vegetative. Another issue. Saving Ra's al Ghul whilst he was in need of life support. Alleytown was the higher priority but it reaffirmed to Bruce that they needed to prevent the cataclysm, and soon.

If Altair had planned the detonation, then Bruce would simply have to break the information out of him. He clenched his fists, rhythmically, reminding himself that his children could take this information. Take it and save Alleytown.

The Lazarus Lake itself was a concern, but it could be handled after- and Bruce couldn't help the sickly urge to wonder if Hal could... if- if that could be undone. If blood could be washed from Steph's hands before it dried.

To Cass, he communicated in silent, clear body language, capture the clone. We need to stop his plan.

@shh-its-cass @redrobinfr @alzhul @joker-junior

[lunaetis]

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025 !!

there were so many things that happened this year. so many changes throughout the entire year that were both good and bad. 2024 was honestly quite a rough year for me, physically and mentally. but for everyone who had stuck around with me throughout it all, thank you so much for being a part of my 2024 going onto 2025. i cannot tell you enough how much coming online and to this blog wouldn't be as wonderful an experience without all of you. my friends, my mutuals, and everyone i had met and had the pleasure to talk to and write with, or even those who i never get a chance to interact with yet, i genuinely am grateful for your presence.

whether we have followed each other for years, or have just become mutual recently, bless you for deeming me deserving of a space on your dash by clicking that follow button and thank you so much for making mine an absolutely amazing one. i'm very sorry if i had done something to upset any of you during the past year. i'll do my best to be better. i want to reach out more. i want to talk to more people, interact with more people, write with as many of you as i possibly could. i really appreciate all your patience and understanding despite my sporadic activity.

a special thank you for those who let me bother your muses with the space raccoon, and to those who let me throw yinyue at them despite knowing nothing about wuwa. with rin being the newest addition to my fixation, i do hope i'd get a chance to explore her and more dynamics with our muses in the upcoming year !

with that said, i wish you all a great year ahead ! please stay safe, stay healthy, be happy, and remain the most beautiful and amazing individuals that you all are ! thank you for sticking with this awkward pupper who endlessly yap about her muses and biting. goodbye to 2024 and here's to a better year for all of us in 2025 ! pupper loves you all dearly ! HAPPY NEW YEAR !! 2025 HERE WE COME !!

[s0fter-sin]

rewatching s1 and in ep2 w*ndigo, dean makes a joke about not bringing provisions into the woods just to pull out a bag of peanut butter m&m’s and stick with me here, it’s why the later seasons’ “goofy dean” loses me

this moment is clearly a joke but if you think about it too much, it also makes some sense; a family size bag of peanut m&m’s is calorie dense and even the high sugar is good to keep you moving which they need on an overnight hunt. it also shows how due to their upbringing, they’ve had to eat lower quality food, things they always had access to that was cheap and also in bulk

what does dean eating ghost pepper jerky then tipping water on himself exist for other than to be a cringy joke? what does smelling old chinese food, testing to see if it's still good then shaking his head with cabbage hanging out his mouth when it isn't serve? it's just to make him look stupid and contrast sam's healthy/clean diet (and superiority but that’s another conversation) which has always existed but it used to be nuanced and natural

we see dean as a child give up the food he wanted to eat so sam could eat it. (“i’m sick of spaghetti-os,” “you’re the one who wanted them,” … “i want lucky charms!” “… there’s only enough for one bowl and i haven’t had any yet!” proceeds to give them to sam, 1x18) we know he hustled and stole food to ensure sam ate. (“so, what’d he take?” “get this- peanut butter and bread.” 9x07)

we also see throughout the early seasons dean teasing sam about his salad or healthy choice while he eats some form of burger or other fast food (or notably, cheerfully eating prison food that sam won’t touch, 2x19). it's typical sibling teasing but it also shows that it isn't new for sam to eat like that and for dean to know he eats like that

sam being picky isn't just a character trait they chose for him, it's a result of how dean raised him; he raised him to like and want healthy food and be food secure enough to reject food he didn't want

but dean eats anything he is given and seeks out unhealthy - cheap, plentiful, filling - food

he is the opposite of picky to the point of it being a consistent bit; they show him multiple times eating when it's socially frowned upon to do so eg. questioning a grieving victim when they're trying to be discreet (1x14, 2x15, 2x18)

a similar moment to the chinese food is in 4x19; dean wakes up in the car while sam brushes his teeth outside and is hungry. sam says there's a sandwich in the backseat, dean smells it and recoils bc it's an old tuna sandwich. the moment is funny on its own but it also exists as a comparison of their lives to adam's; he has a loving mother, goes to school and importantly, a steady stable childhood

it’s a joke with a purpose

it also supports dean's food insecurity; he wakes up and is immediately hungry, enough to complain about it and seek out food before anything else

dean is always hungry bc he never has access to nutritionally rich foods bc he got used to using the money he earned to buy sam's more expensive food. he got used to his cheaper, denser foods and grew up with (and continues to live with) intermittent access to said foods. think of how long it takes to drive from one state to another; how many hours it can take to see another town that offers food, if you arrive at a reasonable enough time for anything to be open. also think how they can’t keep any food beyond what fits in an esky; nothing that needs defrosting, nothing can be heated up. it’s bags and jars and take out for as long as they can trust it

then they get the bunker which has its own kitchen

dean even describes himself as "nesting" when he decorates his room, something he hasn't had since he was four years old, and he uses said kitchen to cook a burger from scratch that he is proud of. he is food secure for the first time in his life and it shows in how often he cooks for both himself and sam

so these moments where they have him acting goofy regarding food are no longer character driven and only exist as a joke which is why they come across as cringy and out of character compared to similar earlier moments

a lot of my issues with dean's characterisation started when they introduced the bunker. the argument can and is made that the reason these jokes happen is bc he feels safe in the bunker, that bc he now has a home he can relax and unmask but that still doesn't feel sufficient. they crank up these sillier moments for both of them, giving them a sort of playing house comedy vibe of two roommates with completely different personalities but it doesn't feel like an authentic progression. it feels forced; an attempt at humour for humour's sake

food stopped being an informed part of their characters and their trauma and instead became flanderised; sam is the judgy vegetarian health nut and dean is his borderline slovenly carnivore counterpart

[transmasccofee]

impromptu mental health checkin

[lemonzestywrites]

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz MWAH ty bestie adore you!!

i know zesty’s back to writing— CRAZY right? anyways here’s a little bucktommy fix-it fic cause if i’m being honest gang even as much as my multishipper heart loves buddie that breakup was fucking wack and if there’s anything i love doing, it’s ignoring canon when it suits me

anyways hope y’all enjoy :)

====

“He wanted serious, and I—” Something violent. A grey and harsh shoots through his veins. A sicken feeling that Tommy hasn’t felt in so long. He almost forgot what it felt like. He swallows deeply, trying to shove the rash of emotion that threatens to crawl up his throat. He glances over, hoping his eyes don’t look as wet as they feel. “Lucy, no one wants serious. Not with me.”

“It sounds like Buck does,” she insists.

For a second, a fleeting moment, hope flickers in his heart. Dancing at the idea of something more. But the emotion only lasts for so long before it feels extinguished by something else— something greater.

It’s like a dog he can’t control, something rapid and full of hate. Tired of mistreatment, of being used for another purpose. It kicks back wildly at the thought, harsh memories shooting back through his mind so many times before.

Of promises pressed into intimate skin. Of someone else he used to know so damn well that left him like a stranger at a train stop. In another life maybe it worked out. But being used isn’t abnormal to Tommy. He’s better as an experience.

A fragment of time that was glorious and good. Like a meteor shower hung beautifully in the sky that you witness for the night while the moon sits overhead. The promise of something better.

Tommy redirects his eyes back into his locker, head down as he finishes buttoning up his suit, prominently ignoring the hung photo of him and Evan on a picnic date a few weeks back that Tommy hasn’t had the heart to take down yet.

“Sal didn’t.”

tagging - @hippolotamus @devirnis @aroeddiediaz @jeeyuns @shyaudacity

[crystallizsch]

The thought came to me randomly buuuut I wonder....would Yuusha judge my yuusona for liking Azul? Because I KNOW Jovie would judge her back for liking Jamil if she did

oh yuusha would - and i wouldnt blame jovie for doing the same ;;;

jamil 🤝 azul (using the prefect to try and get what he wants and failing)

them: yeah he's the one for me

━━━━━━✦

i know there's more nuance and depth behind it but simplifying it this way is so funny 😭

anyways yuusha would still be chill with jovie regardless :3

bc yuusha respects azul even though she does NOT like him (like she respects him more than she dislikes him if that makes sense)

so she's (mostly) honest when she says she's happy for jovie

yuusha's questioning jovie's tastes while hers is basically the same guy but in a different flavor (and she knows it)

[seventh-district]

Dying Star

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

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

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

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

- - - - - - -

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

Pairing: Sam x Darlin' / Reader

Word Count: 4,053

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

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

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

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

‘Dying Star’ by Ashnikko feat. Ethel Cain

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

‘No Plan’ by Hozier

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

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

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

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

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

That’s what you both really wanted.

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

That’s what you told yourself.

You only got what you asked for.

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

…Right. Luxury.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…You must be more tired than you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

He squeezes back in acknowledgment. “Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. "I am being serious."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “…Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Sam?” You whisper into the night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[wolfpackmuses]

I honestly can not believe 2024 is nearly over. Like, I really can't, this year has been kind of wild, in my opinion, and I think that's only leading into what I think is going to be an even wilder 2025.

As some of y'all might know, I had a few things happen this year in my personal life. I steamed ahead in my research for my master's degree (which is in the final phases now which is wild), I got an internship with the Weather Service over the summer to get some job experience, I traveled quite a few times to the Orlando area to visit my brother and sister, and most recently: I presented my research at a major conference in Washington D.C..

Not only did I do all of this, I had a fantastic year writing with all of you. I know my activity is all over the place and I have wild swings in when I want to actually write and all, but I have had a great year interacting with y'all and being able to meet so many great people. I don't think I had this much fun writing in a long time and the fact I added so many new muses to this blog (as well as making an entirely new one for my Baldur's Gate 3 OC, @bloodsoakedurge) added to the chaos that is this blog.

I have so many great threads and interactions I've had this year from all of you and I couldn't have asked for a more supportive community for me here on this blog. I didn't expect to be at the point I am now when I changed to a multiuse back in April 2023, but I think it might have been one of the best decisions I've ever made here on Tumblr. The fact it led to me meeting so many fantastic mutuals, so many great interactions, and that I have been able to share my joy of writing with all of you has been one of my favorite things to do in my spare time.

So from the bottom of my heart to all of you, I just want to say thank you. I genuinely could not have done all of this without y'all and I love all of you for your support over the past year or two since I rebranded this account. I don't think y'all will ever fully see how much I truly care about y'all, but just know that I absolutely do.

So here's to a fantastic New Year and to all the new muses I add along the way. Chaos has already been brewing with some of my new muses and I hope it can lead to me meeting so many more new and fantastic people in 2025.

Happy New Year from me to all of you. I hope all of you have a great New Year.

[blueberry-gills]

//I'm too committed to this bit I'm so sorry-

Alcremie Sweet Ask Game!

🫐 [Berry Sweet] - Do you prefer being outdoors or indoors? Do you like natural, rural areas, or urban, modern locations?

🍀 [Clover Sweet] - If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

🌼 [Flower Sweet] - If you had to go with a different job or profession from what you're doing right now, what would it be and why?

💖 [Love Sweet] - What's a comfort food/meal of yours?

🎀 [Ribbon Sweet] - What's a piece of advice you'd give to your younger self?

⭐️ [Star Sweet] - What's a hobby/talent you find interesting, but haven't had the time/energy to pursue?

🍓 [Strawberry Sweet] - Do you have a favorite holiday, season, or time of day? Why?

Remember to send an ask to who you reblog from!! ^^

[h-a-unted]

I'm trying to get rid of all the memes and "aesthetics" I've saved over time but like, huh...

[piningpercussionist]

Oh! Fucking. Duh. Obvious Roxie post I can make today: here's an emote I made for the sp:te server! (With variants of different degrees of completion...)

I was gonna go back and shade the comic colors Roxie but. Just ended up going w the colors picked off the screenshot. This screenshot, specifically!