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blorbocedes · 2 years ago
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the backstory to this iconic gif is lewis just won 2014 championship at the last race in abu dhabi (that was contested by nico the whole season. if lewis dnf'd or finished out of points and nico won the race, he could've won the championship) and nico started this race from pole, so there was a chance he could win it. but nico's engine died during the final race, so he's not even on podium. (he finished 14th after begging his engineers to let him finish the race, even though he would be out of points) he showed up to the cool-down room just to congratulate lewis which I can't think of another time any other teammate went to the cool-down room to congratulate a driver when they're not on podium themselves, and they have little homoerotic teammate moment while toto claps voyeur style
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joeeatsdvds · 9 months ago
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the l word = lesbian joke in scott pilgrim is never not funny to me
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stemmmm · 3 months ago
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Billford fic recs!
I was asked a while ago (i believe by @kerink ?) when I shared a list of the currently active fics I was reading if I could do a broader rec list as well, so here it is! not a ton of oneshots since I didn't try to keep good track of fics until very recently. will likely update this over time!
there is ONE non-triangle bill in here, but what he is in that one is vague so maybe he could still be the triangle. schrodingers triangle.
Collections:
Valentines 3K challenge (all explicit)
you know it. you love it. if you haven't read all of them though, you're missing the fuck out
Stan Bros Coffee (G and explicit)
the espresso-Bill AU! there's a bunch of little fics about it and they're all in here!
Billford Egg Hunt 2025 (all explicit)
that man gets eggs laid in him
Oneshots: (most oneshot recs are in the collections)
Eternal Devotion - Illusions of the Heart (explicit)
have you ever read a horror story posing as a love story? are you interested in the most unhinged yet cohesive internal monologue ever crafted? do you wonder why keyhole suddenly became so prominent in the fandom out of nowhere? all of these and more await you in here. click the link-- i am a normal fanfic
touch and go (teen)
it's portal ford, baby! great exploration of what prolonged isolation does to people and has excellent bill being sweeties
Haha He Fucked That...Spider? (explicit)
again, portal ford! he's the master of getting himself in stupid situations, and bill is the master of getting him out of them in the ways ford appreciates the least
Hazing Ritual (mature)
Ford takes a hike in the woods in the middle of the night with his cock out and Bill comes to say hi
Longfics:
Theseus' Guide To Ruining A Perfectly Good Boat (mature) (complete in my heart bc i know what happens)
why are you still following me if you haven't read this yet. y'all know what this is
Then it becomes, it becomes, it becomes a problem (mature) (complete)
how bad do things have to get before bill finally chooses to cut his shit out? the answer may surprise you! during-betrayal fic where bill makes the ingenious decision to bring a third party into the mix as if that would solve anything. breathtaking prose, magnificent character work, and the best fucking bill cipher writing and analysis there is! SO funny, SO raw and emotional. Jan deserves to ascend to godhood at the cost of all of her family and friends. as a treat.
Creative Solution (unrated, but i'd call it mature) (complete)
what if bill erased ford's memories of the betrayal and weirdmageddon happened? touches on what it's like to be in a relationship where you're both deeply mentally ill and insecure in a way that really, truly hits me. absolute masterwork of digging through bill's fucked up psyche and the ways in which he Can and Will spiral forever AND BE SURE TO STICK AROUND FOR THE EPILOGUE: A VISIT TO THE PINES WHICH IS MY FAVORITE SHIT EVER!!! proving to your parents what a failure you are will always have good results! definitely break no-contact, only good things can happen!
Property of Bill Cipher (explicit) (good as complete)
pre-portal character exploration. the only fic i think ive ever seen that dares to say bill was doing extremely fucked up shit with ford the entire time before things went bad between them, it's just that after the betrayal, ford viewed it all in a different light. handles bill's obsession with the guy so nicely, does not shy away from the scary and unnerving in just the way i love it! it's incomplete, but the story is really just a series of vignettes leading up to and a little after the betrayal, so we all know how this is all going to end anyways. this one is formative billford for me
Multiversal Manhunt Moved to Your Backyard (explicit, but only the final chapter) (complete)
set during weirdmageddon, bill and ford make a deal to play a game of sexy scary hide and seek. it's so fun to root for the villain. this author has an amazing grasp on the character voices and tone, this is SUCH a delightful read and despite knowing exactly how it's gonna end, the tension still keeps you at the edge of your seat!
On the Level (mature) (incomplete)
marine biology AU where ford is a researcher on a deep sea base and bill is some sort of eldritch horror at the bottom of the sea. writing is lovely and it's really got the slow, ominous horror vibe down pat. it's tagged for Alien(1979) references so i'm personally waiting for bill to violently murder all of these people <3 also this is the non-triangle fic i was referring to
Take A Chance (explicit) (incomplete)
handyman bill thats very focused on how poorly bill and ford are able to communicate with each other, and boy, theyre bad at it. lots of cute family shenanigans and overall a very lighthearted read!
Dream Operator (mature) (incomplete)
post canon billford my beloved. Bill is trapped in the Theraprism, Ford is off doing his boat adventures with his brother, yet neither of them get the other out of their dreams. Literally. goofy dream shenanigans abound!
tear flesh from my skeleton just to feel something genuine (rated teen, it is NOT teen) (incomplete)
VIVISECTIONNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s Better Than Sex! It’s Vivisection! (mature) (complete)
ONE FUCKING GUESSSSS!!!!!!!!!!
Impossible Geometries and Biologies (explicit) (complete)
pregnant bill fic that i have some Opinions about but it gets to stay because I like the speculative bio they do just that much
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ningtual · 4 months ago
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sunwoo ig update (250224)
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hysieme · 3 months ago
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stupidlittlespirit · 21 days ago
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Idk if this is too much of an ask (but my fiancée and I are huge fans of your MTB series and we're getting married today! Teehee) (and my ass is on tumblr rn instead of getting ready)
Do you have any fun facts that you'd be willing to share about Ford that wouldn't otherwise be brought up in the fics?
Idk if that's a dumb question lol sorry if it is
OMG NO WAY?!!!!!!!!!!!!! CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!! That's so amazing, also mood being on tumblr when you're supposed to be getting ready lmaooooo!
I hope your day is incredible, I'm toasting my cup of tea to you rn <3
In terms of facts, hmm..... I don't necessarily have anything I can give you in that sense but seeing as it's your freaking WEDDING, I can offer a measly gift of a tiny little unpublished fic for you both. It's really not much, it was just an exercise I did based on puns but.... Fresh from the pages of the Library of Alex-Stan-dria (aka my warm up doc) :
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Rating: NSFW (implied) Type: Drabble - part of the Maid to Be AU Pairing: Ford Pines x reader Tags: Word play (??), drinking, teasing, car talk, Stan Pines, Ford Pines Word count: 1422
Tonight, the summer air is thick and cloying as you sit out on the porch of the Pines' house, your feet kicked up on a spare crate and a half empty bottle of cheap beer dangling from your fingers. 
The working day is finally done and every chore has been ticked off of your list just in time for the setting sun to finally recede below the distant horizon. Your back aches and you'd planned to head straight home to soothe your muscles with a warm shower, but life rarely goes as planned whenever you're in the presence of this family. You'd barely even gotten a hand on the front door before Stan had deployed his disarming wiles to sweet talk (see: bully) you into joining he and his brother for a nightcap, and those aches had melted away in the face of an easy time with two of your favourite people. 
The four generously large bottles you've already tanked down are sitting warmly in your stomach and the edges of your vision are ever so slightly skewed in a familiar, pleasantly boozy way. 
Stan is lounging like an overfed housecat in the wicker chair in front of you, a thick lit cigar perched between his lips as he too settles into the effects of a few too many drinks himself. Acrid smoke plumes up and around his head as he brags about his beloved car for the fifth time tonight and his words mingle amongst the crickets and cicadas that sing from the forest’s edge. 
You'd made the mistake of bringing up your personal driving opinions in his presence and now you're being subjected to an earful from him on everything car-related. They're his own personal PhD specialism and you really should have known better than to have tempted the bull with such a red flag.
To Stan's left, his brother sits leisurely in his own weathered rattan chair, watching you both with amused, if glazed, eyes. Ford's been working hard all week on some fancy paper he expects to publish soon and this is his miniature reward for taking a break: a casual kickback free of complex biology and laden with his sibling's charm. You're sure he'd rather be working but when he'd become aware you'd be joining them, it had been enough to seduce him into a few hours of down time. 
Part of you thinks he'd been looking for an excuse to take some time away, but another, prouder part thinks it's sweet that your presence is enough to tempt him into some minor truancy. It doesn't happen often and you're willing to privately take a little credit for it, just this once. 
Ford's usually-prim posture is slackened tonight; the exhaustion wears heavily on his handsome face and though he hasn't had as much to drink as you or Stan, it seems tiredness is enough to mimic mild intoxication. He sprawls in his seat, slumped down, legs open wide, taking up space that he might otherwise be inclined to save. He still looks dashing, though, in your humble opinion. 
His dark eyes flick from Stan to you as you parry one another's quips, but his gaze lingers on you for longer than he might normally allow in such a public setting. It isn't heated, he isn't that far gone just yet, but it's indulgent and it makes you feel hot under the collar all the same.
“No way,” Stan is saying, vigorously shaking his head as he disagrees with your assertion about the drive-ability of your own claptrap car. “My Diablo is the finest old girl you've ever seen. Nothin’ runs as smooth as she does.” 
“You're biased!” you accuse him light-heartedly, pointing a finger at him. “You've never even driven anything else!” 
“That's a valid point,” Ford chimes in helpfully, smirking. “Statistically speaking.”
You toss him a pleased smile and Stan rolls his eyes. Ford's ears tint rouge.
“You drive a shitbox van,” Stan snarks. “What do you know about good cars?” 
“First of all," you say haughtily, offended on your car's behalf. "She isn't a shit box, she's a classic from 1984 and you'll treat her with respect if you want me to keep hauling your stuff about in her.” You stick your tongue out at him as Stan mutters something under his breath about how '84 barely qualifies as historically classic.
“And," you go on with a huff, “I have car knowledge too, thank you very much. It's not like I intend to keep the same car until I die, unlike some people.” 
“Oh yeah?” Stan teases, sounding tickled. “And what do you want? A little Fiat? One of those prissy ass electric cars? You look like the type.” 
Clumsily, you lift your foot off the crate and kick him gently in the side of his shin. He kicks you back. “No, asshole, I want something big. Like a...." You wrack your brains through the rolodex of classic cars adverts you keep saved on your laptop for if you ever win big one day. "An F1-50. A 1950 model with a big fat engine in it.” 
Stan guffaws, gravelly and charmingly demeaning. “That? You're too small for one of those, you'd never be able to handle all that.” 
“What about a Capri? Or a ‘69 Mustang?” you argue back. 
Ford’s smirk grows. It’s less out of understanding (Stan’s the true gearhead here) and more from pure mirth at the fight you’re valiantly putting up. 
“You got a world of options out there, kid, why not expand into something more exotic?” Stan says, punctuating his sentence with a solid puff of his cigar. The gold signet ring on his finger glints in the low light as he flexes his grip around the stem and smoke billows out from his mouth.
You shrug one shoulder and, under the cover of his puffing, your eyes flick to his brother as you say with a smothered smile: “I don't know, I just think Ford's offer the best ride.” 
Stan laughs at the comment, his tipsy mind sailing clean past the double entendre in favour of needling your choice with more dismissive laughter. But your shot hits its mark when Ford almost sloshes his tentative mouthful of warm beer down the front of his sweater at your words.
“No chance,” Stan scoffs, none the wiser. “I bet you've never even driven one.” 
It's your turn to scoff now. “Of course I have,” you say assuredly. “I have plenty of experience.”
No one else knows of the covert sins you commit with the not-always-so-sweet doctor sitting just across from you and the two of you intend to keep it that way for the time being. Still, that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt in the face of danger every now and then. It’s fun to keep Ford on his toes and though you know (hope) you’ll pay for your brazenness later, the opportunity is too enticing to resist. 
You’ll blame that squarely on the drink.
“Oh yeah?” Stan says, swigging his beer. “Like?”
“All sorts. The bigger the better, in my opinion.” You smirk. “But I prefer vintage, myself.” 
To the left of his brother, poor Ford is forcing himself to hide his laughter with a tactfully placed hand over his mouth as he leans on the arm of his chair. He's fortunate that it's dark out here beyond the candles on the patio table because you can tell his face is burning brighter than an ill-prepared sunbather at your words. He shoots you a look (one that is most definitely heated) when Stan pauses to rub smoke from his eyes, but you only return it with a quick, coy smirk that serves to darken his blush further. 
“Vintage breaks down if you don't know how to take good care of it,” Stan says confidently. “I do all my fine tuning myself, y’know.” 
“I rode mine pretty hard but it always held up well,” you say, trying to bite back the grin that threatens to take over your face. “I’m a gentle hand when I want to be. I’d do just fine with something like that, trust me.” 
Stan’s nose wrinkles in annoyance at the smoke and he chases its burn away, smartly, with more drink. “Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’d be able to deal with that much raw power.”
You spare Ford a very subtle, well timed look that he meets with equal revelry.
“You know, I think you’d be surprised at what I can handle….”
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MAZEL TOV! Sorry it's not much but I hope it's enough for you to glance at when you get the chance! <3 Sending you all the love in the world!
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starflungwaddledee · 1 year ago
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a masterpost following starstruck's interactive adventure at the 2024 @kirbyoctournament, for however long she makes it through! told mostly in response to asks, hence the 'interactive' component. can also be followed in the oc (2024): starstruck dee tag!
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✧・゚✧‧͙⁺༓જ⁀•。゚⟡ 。゚☁︎。⋆ *☾༓⁺‧͙✧・゚✧
(full page comics are noted in bold, and the most important updates are designated with ‧͙⁺༓ )
stage 1: cookie country 🏡🏰
✧ are you ready, starstruck? (intro comic, entry + ref) ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ start the adventure ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ what kind of pie? ✧ a cupcake for the road ✧ happy early birthday ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ what's up? ✧ a selection of gifts ✧ the beating Sun ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ fountain's busted ✧ precautionary incense ✧ it doesn't mean anything ‧͙⁺༓
stage 2: rambling rainforest 🌲🌳
✧ into the woods (intro comic) ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ that red butterfly ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ friends with a little liar ✧ weapon select ✧ do you love the stars? [poll] ✧ night owls ✧ worth the climb ✧ where you fit in ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ distracted ✧ a little shut eye ‧͙⁺༓ [poll]
stage 3: yawning yonder 💤🌈
✧ should have stayed up (intro comic and [poll]) ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ helicopter type sfx ✧ a better past ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ be brave ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ look behind you ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ fear of the greatest ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ heroes, supposedly ‧͙⁺༓ ✧ the inevitable ‧͙⁺༓
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seventh-district · 7 months ago
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Dying Star
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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.
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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
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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.”
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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
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted sam#redacted darlin#redacted fanfic#redacted fandom#sam collins#samuel collins#redacted tank#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#one of my last Redacted posts didn't make it into the tags. which wasn't a big deal since it wasn't something important#but i spent some real time and effort on this fic so if tumblr yeets This post into the void i Will cry. and then painstakingly repost it#i've got big feelings about Sam and y'all r gonna see it whether u like it or not /lh#anyways hey this fic was unexpected. and much like Midnight Hour the production time was relatively fast thanks to the power of Fixation#i was gonna post the next chapter of Heaven in Hiding and then work on a Boothill oneshot and then maybe the [N]MbD New Year's fic#but i've been feeling Some Kinda Way lately and i guess i needed to project it onto Sam. so this fic took precedence#i humbly offer my first contribution to the Redacted fandom. pls don't attack me if they're OOC /hj#i'm out here doing my best to walk the line between canon compliance and self-indulgence#also i know that bright thing in the header image i used can't be Sirius. it's gotta be like. a planet i think? not sure which one tho#i've never even seen a planet that bright but my sky isn't all that dark so maybe they Can look that bright in some places#idk. the image description on Unsplash doesn't say. but 'planet' is in the tags so that's my guess#the only thing i've seen be that bright in the night sky 'round here is military flares. but maybe it's to do with how the photo was taken#a n y w a y s point is. the star Darlin' sees isn't That bright but the photo was too fitting not to use
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paintedxangels · 6 months ago
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hi guys. looks around. been a while o__O
bit of an update post (details under the cut) bc I’ve been gone !! But tldr I had an awful experience on yumetwt, so I’m moving back here as soon as I can, & will continue jesse posting like normal once I get situated again 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ yayyyy !!!!
longer update for those who care shsjsjfk
so while I was on my tumblr hiatus, I decided to make a yumetwt account on twitter, but that. did not go very well. and I ended up getting constantly harassed by someone & their friends simply bc I was shipping with Daredevil at the time & they didn’t like that for whatever reason. the whole thing made me incredibly sick physically & kinda killed my enjoyment for most yumeshipping content for months. so I abandoned that account (& yumetwt as a whole) & am now thinking about moving my yume stuff back here fulltime … since tumblr is a lot easier to regulate & also I love the little community here 😭 not NEARLY as stupidly toxic as yumetwt omg
I no longer really ship with daredevil (I still adore that guy, just not in that way), so this account will continue to just be jesse focused like it always was :) might still talk abt daredevil / comics sometimes since it’s my current hyperfix but it’s not really gonna be a mainstay
also in better news I got a gf too !!!! & that’s really cool. I love her lots ^__^ <333 hehehe
but YES my first step is to give my s/i a bit of a redesign / update & then we’ll hopefully be on to business as usual 😈 but WE’RE BACK !!!! SOON !!!!!!
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letapollojusticesayfuck · 9 months ago
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👀👀👀👀👀👀????
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kaidanalenkosprmanager · 1 year ago
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THE BEST OF ATTICAN TRAVERSE: KROGAN TEAM
Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Urdnot Grunt With: Urdnot Wrex, Dr. Mordin Solus, Primarch Adrien Victus and The Rachni Queen I don't need luck- I have ammo. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)
#mira makes gifs ✨#sophie shepard#james vega#EDI#urdnot grunt#urdnot wrex#mass effect#mass effect 3#me3#mass effect legendary edition#dailygaming#i finally finished gif’ing traverse and this set is cursed is all i will say :)#i don’t know why this one was such a pain in the ass but compressing them was a massive chore for some reason#and my dumb ass realized as i was assembling i set the frame hold wrong for like 4 of them so i had to go back and redo a few of them 🙃#the thing that pissed me off most is that there’s usually a nice planet shot with a normandy fly in to make a header from#and traverse just doesn’t fucking get one for some reason?? so ig we get rachni queen header#i’m so sorry but this is like my least favorite mission in the game 😭#like i do like grunt but this mission is just meh on all fronts to me at least#like the decision from ME1 to spare or destroy the rachni queen is so fucking cool?? and it has 0 consequences in ME3 LMAO#not to mention that half of this mission is just standing around with a flame thrower burning down webs lol#the only cool thing i’ll say is i ADORE the Aliens™️/xenomorph vibes that the mission has!! that is so cool the first time around#the cutscenes are alright but there’s really only some towards the front end and the back end? so you miss so much of the middle#which makes it hard to connect what’s going on to make a best of: set lol#grunt has some nice scenes if you have him here and the rachni queen quotes are cool#the enemies are also kind of interesting in concept? i just wish the rachni decision from ME1 had more weight here#james and EDI have a few nice lines towards the front in the shuttle but there’s not a ton of great dialogue like grissom has tbh#idk this mission is just okay to me i guess? like the ardat-yakshi sanctuary with samara is much more interesting to me#i feel like this one needed longer to cook and the rachni deserved more weight in the mission based on your decision in ME1#james and EDI looked cute like always!! and soph ate it up in cleric’s guardian armors for shepard (which continues to be gorgeous ❤️‍🔥✨)#idk seeing grunt and playing fashion dress up was the best part of this mission besides the wrex cameo at the end lmao
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bingqiv · 1 year ago
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the torvic trilogy
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bf-rally · 6 months ago
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theme progress...
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conlocura · 8 months ago
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I am so ready for season 2!!! Let's gooooo!!!!!
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clea-dessendre · 10 months ago
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using my precious work hours of this daycare day in the most appropriate way: making a new gif header for my tumblr
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paparoach · 7 months ago
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hi. i love my trio so much.
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