#but it's okay because the trade off is getting to be with the love of his life and happy

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Nappers

Dpxdc Prompt #10

Danny was really excited to spend the summer with his second cousin(?) he didn't really remember, but apparently Jack Fenton's cousin was Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, a serial adopter.

Jazz had discovered the connection and gave him a call to see if he'd mind Danny staying over for summer because Danny decided he was going to tell his parents at the end of summer about his ghost problem, and Jazz wanted him to have a safety net.

He didn't really have a big family at home, with his parents being largely... absent and Jazz moving to Gotham for college. It would be great to be in a house that wasn't empty again.

Now if only his newly discovered family could stay awake long enough for Danny to talk to them.

"So how's living with our cousins?" Jazz asked him through his Fenton-phone. He flopped onto his bed and groaned.

"They're all seem nice but I haven't really seen enough of them to know yet."

"Danny, you've already been there a week, shouldn't you know them at least a little bit? You usually warm up to people quickly, as long as they aren't trying to kill you."

"Man I kinda wish they were out to get me, then I'd probably see more of them than I have already."

"..."

"..."

"Okay Danny walk me through our family, and what you know so far about them."

"Well first there's Dick, he apparently lives in Bludhaven and supposedly comes back to Gotham to visit fairly often, haven't seen any of him yet though."

"Then there's Jason, I've seen him come over after dinner a couple of times, but he's seemed in a really bad mood and I'm getting weird vibes from him so I haven't talked to him much yet either."

"Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Bruce are the ones that actually live here at the manor and outside of when I first arrived I haven't actually seen them awake enough to talk to me. Anytime I've caught a glimpse of them they're taking naps and I'd feel bad waking them up, Tim especially (he looks like he needs the rest)."

"What are they, nocturnal or something?

"That's what I thought too! But the Manor is even more dead during the night than the day. If I had wanted to live with a bunch of zombies I'd have spent summer in the zone, not come all the way here."

"The only people that have stayed awake long enough for me to actually get to know them are Duke and Alfred! Duke's great, but he seems to have a day job so I only see him for breakfast and dinner and any time I can catch him before he sleeps after. Alfred's amazing, but he already has so much to do around the Manor, I feel bad bothering him."

"It is only the first week you're there, and there was a huge Arkham breakout your first day so everybody around Gotham is a bit tense while the Bats are trying to recatch everyone. Could you give it another week for me? See if it'll be an option for if our parents react badly?"

"For you, Jazz, I'll give it another week, but I can't just trade one empty house for another."

"Thanks, little brother."

"Love you, Jazz, bye."

Danny hung up the phone and sighed, he new there was something off with his cousins, but he couldn't quite place it. Constantly napping, disappearing during the nights, but always on guard when they were awake.

He had a week to figure it out, but if he didn't there'd be no real lost love. He'd come up with some excuse, stay with Jazz for the summer or something. If his parents reacted badly and he didn't have this safety net, it'd be difficult sure, but Danny and Jazz would figure it out.

Danny thought it would be nice to have some other family that had his back for once, but hey, maybe he just had shitty luck when it came to blood relations.

[cer-rata]

Cerata's 2024 End of Year Artist shoutouts! (part 1)

Okay so this year was the first time I'd really participated in fandom in over a decade, but I'm truly glad I did because I met a ton of great people, and even got to work on projects with some of them. So I wanted to put all of the cool visual art that I've received last year, whether it be art trade, commission, part of an event, or...fanart? Because that happened somehow?

Anyway, there are a number of other people that I worked with last year, but a bunch of that art started near the end of the year, and as such is not finished yet, hence why this post will be two parts, one now, and the second when everyone else finishes up.

No particular order, all of these artists are great, and lovely people, so do go check out the rest of their work and tell them how cool they are, yeah? Also, some are currently open for commissions, so keep an eye out for that.

(Also, this is my first time trying to do ID text, so bear with me if they're a little rough, despite being a writer, I hate words?)

So first we have @fiyaharts with a lovely illustration of a number of the my favorite Krypton and Krypton-adjacent children. Shadi is lovely to work with and fast to the point where it spooked me a little bit, go off girl.

Next we have two pieces from my favorite Evil Woman Apologist, @vivictory-draws, one of a divorced Barbara and Kara being totally normal about it, and the other of my child and blorbo that haunts my waking hours, Conrad. Love N to death, which is why I haunt her with threats of commissioning Joker/Desaad Yaoi.

...Maybe for the next list, who knows...

So next we have the art created for the last @womenincomicsminibang (which is going to be returning with a reverse bang in a few months, keep an eye out on that.)

The lovely and evocative cover was done by the talented @breakingthespacetimewall, and the scenes of Cassie trying and failing to get her life together were done by the wonderful @soop-jpg

Working with them was a pleasure and honor, and their dedication and kindness really helped me through finishing that fic, and I remain incredibly grateful for that.

The first person I worked with this last year, and the one who really helped solidify the core of a lot of my projects, @nicodrawings drew a glorious cover for my mania-induced first longfic, and also a character reference for the aformentioned disordered young man who haunts my waking hours. She's a professional through-and-through, with wonderful instincts and great communication. She's also working on a fan-comic project of her own that I think is wonderful and am excited to see continue.

I lucked out and was paired with the super chill, super talented @byeara on my first fan project ever, and they hooked me up with this super fun and detailed cover for the fic I wrote for that one kon-centric minibang. I loved working with them, and would love to do so again, logistics willing.

This jerk @vnekey made me cry by drawing really sweet, totally unexpected fanart for that mania-fic I wrote. I'm still a little speechless really, I'd never gotten fanart of any sort for any reason before, and to receive something so lovely as the first thing really touched me deeply, and honestly kept me writing through some rough patches.

...Fight me!

My first ever art trade! Kind of! @spider-jaysart is super sweet and supportive and made my...second biblically (is there a Source bible? Are there religious Coluans?) cursed son and his hapless, frankly narratively cursed best buddy look so precious that they ALSO made me cry, can we stop that actually--

Speaking of my cursed son and his narratively cursed Kryptonian, @spicy-apple-pie created this really pretty piece that's...a number of weird deep cuts smushed together into something really specific, but neat if you have the context, which nobody does :3

She was so wonderful and patient and I really enjoyed seeing her run with her inspiration, the Kryptonian mural is super neat and not something I would have ever come up with on my own.

@mediaraiz Is really stylistically flexible, and their "Blob" style really scratched that itch I had for something cute and playful, and they were so game in taking on a larger project, and then went above and beyond in making my lanterns looks truly special.

Finally (for now), @riverdeansart drew a sweet little scene of two horrifyingly stressed totally fine spacebros chilling and chatting about how everything is completely okay!

I was super vague about this one and Dean did a great job getting the vibes right anyway, and with haste.

...So yeah, that's if for now! I'll circle back in a bit when I'm forced to let more artists out of my basement everything else is done!

[kateswallofweird]

PETER PARKER ANGST #1 . . .

give me peter parker who doesn't take care of himself. sure, he's a hero and he fights crime because he's got powers, but he's also human. he is so insanely human, but he forgets. the pain doesn't go away just because he's different. he still feels it, he just pushes through anyway.

"i'm fine," he says with a nervous laugh, brushing off your concern. "what's a couple of scratches, right?"

except peter doesn't realize he's not just "pushing through" the pain. he's drowning in it. the water is filling his lungs and he's smiling. he's flailing and he doesn't even see it. how many more rags filled with his blood? how many more cuts turned to scars? how many more bruises, yellow and purple and black and blue? how much more pain?

knocking out after exhaustion has riddled his body so sore he can't bear to get up again isn't sleep. it isn't rest. it's his body screaming for a break, for him to stop, but he thinks this is just what the job is. it's sacrifice and the type of tired that haunts you. it's trading your happy ending for everyone else's and being okay with it. it's wearing himself down so much that he forgets how to breathe. it's disregarding his body, himself, because everyone loves spider-man but no one cares for peter parker.

except that's not true.

because you're the one who puts him back together. you're the one who he finds in the middle of the night when he's soaked in blood with cuts scattered on the expanse of his skin. you're the one who feels how his heartbeat never slows even in his slumber because anxiety and trauma and misery are unrelenting; it takes and it takes and it takes from him, and he lets it. you're the one who sees the tattered ruins of spider-man no one else was allowed to—peter, he wasn't a hero; he was just a kid.

"i can't do this anymore," you say quietly when your hands finally stop shaking. you're still covered in his blood, and he stares up at your ceiling, wondering if the pain he feels in his side is his broken rib or his broken heart.

"please—"

"i can't watch you kill yourself anymore."

[arcane-ish]

The other big motivation after this experience will be Silco wanting to get Vander out of the mine. Silco has no choice, he has debts, but Vander doesn't need to be risking his life

Haha, glad to hear. I was kind of worried it was gonna continue with "they get out of their lives intact and Vander is going to react by going all "I'm gonna cut through all the bullshit and just gonna say it: I love you" and Silco might react with a panicked "Kthxbye, we have to break up now" and then they manage to stay broken up for at the most a week.

Silco thinking of Vander's safety and wanting him out of the mine is sooooooooooooooooo sweet. Especially in he context of Silco's paranoia that things are not going to last between them.

Encouraging Vander to be out there, outside the mines, there's just way more opportunity to meet other people, get distracted, get drunk and fall into bed with somebody.

So that's a whole lot of risk/trust.

Especially since I figure Vander and what Vander is willing to do for Silco must be a huge boon to Silco's operation. Just way more things he can get done. So to risk that "asset" (or even be willing to give it up) is a big deal even outside of the whole emotional aspect.

I really wonder how much Silco is aware that Vander really is in with the smuggling operation just out of love for Silco. So if he were to fall out with Silco as Silco feels he likely wouldn't want to continue working with Silco even if the money was good.

I know the setting from the cartoon alone -- how do you usually make a deal with a god? I'm thinking they'll find the old tunnels, the huge statue of Janna and fresh air (like the stories Jinx heard as a kid), but it would also work if it happened after some desperate praying.

I don't think there are necessarily ways to invoke a god/demon/spirit and get their attention? I think if they are interested you they just show up.

So I think about it more as people joking about how they wish Janna or some demon showing up rather than it being a reliable strategic tool you can work with.

(I think other than Janna people mostly use Tahm Kench even though he's from another region, just figuring that in Piltover and Zaun might also know about him because they also do a lot of ship trading. I remember a Silco and Vander fic from back in the day that used a Tahm Kench deal )

I might steal that idea.

Feel free to :) I'm always happy if any of my whacky ideas or headcanons work or anybody. XD

Silco is just so sure that nobody would come for them because it's all a cruel and unfeeling company. I can just picture the little wheels turning "Oh, right Vander is has friends. Maybe …. having friends is a good thing?". Though maybe going rogue or making noise to find Vander and Silco would actually get Felicia and Benzo in trouble with the mine owners/overseers?

Maybe that would be too much effect on the plot? Like I said, if you can make use of it feel free, if it doesn't fit, no matter :)

…unless you broke into Piltover.

It just popped into my head that that is one of the things I could picture getting Vander to "think big". Saving his cute little boyfriend from debt bondage just seems like a really romantic/heroic thing for a young guy to get excited about and it would fit with Vander's bigger focus on the people he cares about.

Very:

"What if we just destroyed the papers that say you owe them? Then you could be free, right?"

"They are protected by the company people"

"What if we ambushed them, killed everybody, took the strongbox and destroyed it?"

"… even if you did that, there are still copies up in Piltover."

"Okay :( :( :( …. so what if broke into Piltover and pulled off the heist of the century" (cue Vi's: the kind of stunt you'd have pulled when you were my age)

I presume there are still good reasons not to do it. Like maybe they would take it out on the Foundlings (Vander:Okay… so what if we made our own more awesome orphanage.Silco: No,we are not adopting 50+ kids. Vander: :() or too many people rely on the mines for work and wages.

(I've been thinking a lot lately about Vander could possibly have done outside of "not be an active tyrant" that people have such a positive perception of him even years later. Doing something like getting people's debt earased could certainly be that kind of thing, even if he does it years later after becoming a revolutionary, if he remembers how much that situation sucked for Silco back then)

[for anybody else reading: I'm deeply obsessed with this wip about young Zaundads meeting in the mines and slowly building up their smuggling operation]

Young Zaundads wip (26)

***

For the sake of progress, they don't make the new tunnel any bigger than it needs to be. It's tall enough for Vander to kneel and punch cracks into the next lot of bedrock, but no higher. Vander breaks the rock and moves the pieces behind him; Silco moves the rocks to the larger cavern, clearing the tunnel.

Despite the three charges in Silco's pocket, neither of them are willing to use it. They don't want to risk causing another cave in.

The work is slow and tiring, and Vander's knees feel like they'll be covered in bruises by tomorrow. Silco rolls the bigger rocks out of the way. The smaller ones he lifts up and carries out, bent over in half to fit in their little tunnel.

There's no way for Vander to know if they're digging straight or starting to curve, but he can feel the sweat soaking through his shirt and the ache in his arms as they keep moving forward.

They take a break, both of them lying on the cavern floor just to stretch their backs and rest their legs.

Vander eyes the broken gas mask, the gap down the front where the metal edges bend and twist away from each other. "I almost wish Benzo was here. He'd be able to fix that."

One side of Silco's lip curls up, like he's too tired to sneer properly. They both know Vander isn't great with anything delicate and Silco might have nerves of steel but that's about the limit of his machinery knowledge. There's no way either of them can fix it. "We could try it anyway. It can't hurt our chances."

Vander rolls his head to the side, watching Silco. The strong line of his nose, the soaring curve of his cheekbones, the small chin and narrow jaw. He always thinks it's Silco's eyes that make him pretty, or the thin, delicate line of his lips, but it's everything. It's the knowing arch of his brows and the strands of dark hair falling across his cheek. Everything about him is sharp and fine, and stronger than he looks.

It's not somethingbhe wa looking for, not really, but he can't imagine his life without Silco in it. Maybe Silco should know that, since there's a strong chance they might not make it through the night.

"We're not dead yet," Silco says dismissively, before Vander can even work out the words to say.

Vander feels his own tired grin. "That could have been a nice moment. I could have said something sentimental. Something romantic."

"Your idea of romance starts and ends with: you're pretty, want to fuck?" Silco says tiredly and Vander laughs. He's not wrong.

"Are you complaining?"

"Nothing wrong with the classics." Silco watches him, something serious lurking beneath the wry humour. "You're pretty. Want to fuck?"

It catches Vander's breath for a moment, what Silco really means. The words neither of them are saying, even if they are true. It feels safer to treat it as a joke. "Now?"

"When we get out of this," Silco clarifies. "Five more minutes, then we keep digging."

***

They keep working, hour after hour, and their small tunnel grows longer. The lantern light is growing dimmer but Vander can't afford to worry about what they'll do when it fails. How they'll make any progress when it's just them and the dark.

He looks up at Silco's shuffling footsteps and notices his kerchief is tied across his face again. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Put yours on," Silco says instead of explaining. He hands over the broken gas mask. "I tried it. Doesn't work at all with that hole."

But the only way he'd be able to test it is if… "The Grey?"

"It's started seeping through the collapse." Silco sounds calm and collected, but his hands are clenched in tight fists. "We have some time yet. Keep going."

The spike of adrenaline helps Vander to hit harder, to force the bedrock around them to give way. He stops worrying about breaking the rocks smaller and just tries to break through to something. Something that isn't sheer rock and their inevitable deaths.

Silco doesn't complain about the larger rocks; he just rolls them along the uneven floor, pushing them out. Each time he comes back breathing heavier, until he comes back and sinks to the ground, pulling his makeshift mask off to gulp for air. His eyes are red and watering.

"Swap," Vander says. "I'll take the next lot."

"What could I do," Silco says and his voice is rough as gravel, "with those gauntlets?"

"Then rest," Vander says, grabbing the largest bits of rocks and hunching over to carry them out. He finds their cavern half full of the Grey. It's creeping through the pile of broken rock, grey-green fog spreading across the floor. It stings his eyes, makes his throat feel hot and scratchy, like the start of a bad cold.

Vander clamps a hand over his mouth and heads back to Silco.

Silco is still sitting on the ground. His eyes have stopped watering but they're still bloodshot. "We have to keep going."

"Can we seal the tunnel behind us? Buy some time from the Grey?"

Silco shakes his head and then pauses, thinking. "We could set a charge. Cause a collapse to slow it down."

"Could the whole thing cave in if we do that?"

Silco shrugs. His voice still sounds rough. "Maybe. We don't have any good options here, Vander. It's a risk, whether we do it or not."

He hates that Silco's right. If they do nothing, they have to hope to dig somewhere before the Grey fills this whole tunnel. "So, best case scenario, it doesn't collapse above our heads and it seals the entrance?"

"Best case? There's enough silt above us to seal it tightly, and we dig somewhere before we breathe all of the air in one small, sealed tunnel."

"So, suffocation, suffocation or being crushed to death? What do you think?"

"Set the charges," Silco says grimly. "If we're crushed, it's quick. If we run out of air, we'll fall asleep and never wake. It's better than dying with your lungs burning as you claw at your own throat."

***

[nixie-deangel]

💐🍼

For what to write this weekend

💐 serial killer Jake - hangster

“So how does a gorgeous creature like you, end up in a place like this?” Bradley snorts, eyes cutting to see Jake leaning forward, forearms braced against the bar, as he stares pensively up at Bradley. “You ask all your bartenders overly personal questions?” “Course not, honey. I save all my overly personal questions for the prettiest of them all,” Jake grins, big and bright. Bradley ducks his head, feeling his face get hot as he flushes at Jake’s words, at the confidence and teasing lit he can hear in the other man’s voice.

🍼 non navy bradley/fighter pilot jake as parents - hangster

“What do you even know about this man, momma?” Jake asks, more like demands but is there really any other way to phrase it when you find out your mother has invited a strange man to come and live in her house? “Do you even know if he’s got a record or been arrested or anything about him?” “Jacob.” Cringing, Jake can’t help deflate at the flat way his mother says his name.

Make Nixie Write!

[paging-possum]

Who up listening to good luck babe by chappell roan and having it resonate not in the way intended but resonating nonetheless. About to go ham in the tags about the overlap of being a lesbian and being aromantic...if u even care....

[ellecdc]

i have a small idea! (this totes bounced off that one poly!marauders pregnancy post)

sirius would absolutely find comfort laying on readers belly later on in her pregnancy animagus style🐾

I loved this! you must've read my mind; yesterday I was considering sending out a request for any pregnant!reader or dad!marauders prompts!

poly!marauders x pregnant!reader who Padfoot is obsessed with [1.4k words]

CW: fem afab!reader, pregnancy, discourse regarding shower temperatures

“Wait, so, explain to me why you can’t both just take a shower together?” Remus asked as he followed Sirius and James into the flat, the two boys having argued nearly the whole way home from the shops over who was going to get to shower first.

Sirius made a derisive scoffing sound as if Remus had asked something particularly ridiculous. 

“Remus.” He muttered like he was talking to a troublesome toddler. “My hair and skin are only as beautiful as they are because I don’t scald myself under water heated by hellfire.” 

“My showers are not that hot, Pads.” James argued, though Remus could hear the smile in his voice. 

“My gods.” Sirius breathed out. “It’s starting to affect your brain cells too.” 

James made an offended sound and swatted at Sirius. “Fine, out with you then; go take your freezing shower, but don’t come looking for me for cuddles when you can’t stop shivering.” 

“I’d sooner find Moons for warm cuddles.” Sirius responded haughtily. “Those werewolf genes keep him nice and warm.”

Remus hummed in acknowledgement. “Dove may just have me beat there soon.” 

All three boys took a moment to sigh lovingly at the thought of you; growing and stretching and likely more than a little uncomfortable but doing it so gracefully nonetheless. 

“Sirius if you’re just going to sit here with hearts in your eyes…” James started, though he didn’t need to finish his threat when Sirius turned and took off in the direction of the shower.

“You do come out of the shower a little pink, love.” Remus murmured into the side of James’ face once he knew Sirius was out of earshot. 

James scoffed but leaned into Remus’ embrace. “How does he know that hot showers aren’t how I get my hair and skin so beautiful?” 

“Fair enough.” Remus laughed before he moved to put the groceries away. “But I don’t want Y/N getting into any showers with you; we don’t want her blood pressure rising.” 

James hummed in agreement. “But you may have to tell her that; her showers are equally steamy.” 

“Okay,” Remus agreed, “family meeting tonight about appropriate shower temperatures.” 

The two worked through the kitchen in relative silence before James slowed in his movements; dark brows furrowing behind his wire frames. “Speaking of showers, I don’t hear one running.” 

“Did he seriously fight you for dibs over the shower and then not get into the shower?” Remus laughed, causing James to stalk down the hall muttering something under his breath along the lines of “stupid no good sodding handsome boyfriend, going to be the death of me”. 

Remus waited for the inevitable yelp when James startled Sirius from behind, digging his fingers into his ribs in punishment.

He waited for the two of them to start trading insults - far louder than necessary - that quickly divulged into heated kisses where they pressed each other up against various solid surfaces.

Except no yelps, no tickles, no insults, and no passion could be heard.

In fact, it was quiet…too quiet. 

“Is there some weird portal in the flat that my partners keep disappearing through or something?” Remus called as he moved in the direction of the bedroom. “And where’s dovey?” 

But the answer only came when Remus rounded the corner into their bedroom - nearly colliding with James who had paused just inside the doorway - to find you asleep, curled up on your side in bed with a placid looking Padfoot curled up behind you and his head resting on your waist; your ever growing bump (that you’ve insisted cannot possibly grow anymore) dutifully under his chin.

Remus made an affectionate tsking sound as he took in the sight. “Did you get distracted, Pads?” And the dog’s tail began thumping loudly against the bed, though Remus could tell Padfoot was working very hard to not move his body in any other way lest he disturb you. 

The three of you always joked that whatever Sacred 28 gene allowed Pureblood's to appear impassive, bored, and to expertly save face was absent in Sirius, who never bothered hiding a single one of his emotions; the way he was feeling always displayed loudly and proudly on his face, though he claimed that was by choice rather than design.

But for as expressive or closed off as Sirius could or couldn’t be, Padfoot didn’t have a poker face to save his life.  

An almost embarrassing coo left James’ lips as he made his way to the bed, kneeling carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not disturb you, before reaching over to place a hand on your bump.

Padfoot, for his part, snapped his jaw playfully at James, pretending to bite his wrist only to then lick his arm aggressively when James diverted his loving caress to the top of his head instead. 

“She’s been so tired lately.” James murmured to no one in particular once Padfoot seemed appeased and he moved his hand to push some hair back from your forehead. 

“You try building an entire new person from scratch.” Remus chuckled quietly, moving to stand behind James but pausing when Padfoot’s head shot up.

The canine stared down at your midsection with his ears standing straight up in the air before tilting his head comically at a nearly 90 degree angle.

James laughed, making a breathy ‘wha-’ sound when Padfoot’s head snapped in the other direction, snout still pointed dutifully at your stomach. 

The dog let out a quiet whimper and pressed his wet nose into your side, causing James to laugh and Remus to tsk chidingly at him for risking waking you up.

“Is he kicking, Pads?” James asked then, moving his hand to the now damp spot on your shirt from where Padfoot poked you so rudely as the dog’s tail thumped excitedly on the bed. 

“Please.” Remus scoffed playfully as he reached forward to place his hand next to James’. “Don’t you mean she?”

“They” you corrected suddenly - though your eyes remained closed - as your boyfriends (two human and one currently canine) hovered around your midsection “are lucky they’re so loved when they’re currently using my ribs as a kick drum.” Your breath hitching in time with James and Remus’ hands feeling a strong thump and Padfoot’s head tilting the other direction. 

“Awe, I’m sorry, angel.” James cooed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You should be.” You grumbled, though Remus could see the faint upturn in the corner of your lips. “It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” James shrilled. 

You hummed in agreement. “They were very well behaved before you showed up.”

“How do you know it’s not Moony’s fault?”

You cracked one eye open to look at Remus who simply winked at you. 

“Just do.” 

“Pads?” James tried then.

“If it was Sirius, I would say the chances were equal.” You admitted as you settled back into the pillow. “But baby is well behaved for Padfoot.” 

“Well…” James started, looking helplessly between his partners. “Well this is just not fair.”

You let out a groan and shoved your face into the pillow at the interruption of your nap when Remus finally took pity on you.

“Wasn’t someone supposed to be showering?” 

James looked over at Padfoot who simply stared back at him before letting out a long sigh and resting his head back down on your belly. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Looks like there’s been a change of plans, Jamie.” Remus translated. 

“Fine.” James grumbled, though Remus could tell his ire was only for show. “Do you wanna join me, Moons?” 

“I showered this morning.” Remus declined as he took James’ spot next to you on the bed.

“I’ll shower with you, Jamie.” You offered as you went to rise, pausing when all three boys protested. 

Well, James and Remus protested. Padfoot let out a bark. 

“You should rest, angel.”

“Leave Jamie to his hellfire showers.” Remus agreed. “I’ll run you a bath after dinner, how does that sound?” 

Apparently that sounded lovely, because you easily fell back into your pillows with a smile on your face, a dog resting its head on your stomach, and Remus rubbing his thumb lovingly against your temple.

[oreoluvskento]

gojo being dangerously loud

a/n: i know this is supposed to be a nanami focused account but hear me out... whiny gojo. that's it.

cw: cunnilingus, riding, ummm gojo being drunk and loud and his baby girl moans, semi-public sex (they're in a bathroom), i am so horny and i just need him so bad

you love the sounds your boyfriend makes during sex. he's never been shameful about it either, always loud and proud about the way your pussy makes him feel. this time, however, you wish he'd shut up.

you two are currently in your friends bathroom during a drunk movie night. you were both pretty tipsy, gojo more drunk than you and you were having a great time. all of a sudden, he doubled over, making it obvious to everyone that there was something wrong and he needed a bathroom fast.

except, when you follow him in and he locks the door behind you, there is nothing wrong with him at all, besides the raging boner he was currently sporting. your eyes widened when you saw it, but the casamigos in your bloodstream was stopping you from thinking clearly and the next thing you knew, you were getting eaten out on your friends bathroom floor.

"'toru, fuck, i'm close!" you whisper, holding his head harder and he speeds up, his tongue flicking your clit constantly as his two middle fingers are going to work. when you cum, you cover your mouth with your hand as your back arches off the floor and gojo doesn't pull away. you have to manually drag him away from you and he immediately goes for your lips, making your mouth just as messy as his own.

as the two of you kiss, he sits up and pulls you against his body sitting against the bathtub. you make quick work of his pants and without wasting any time you lower yourself on him. the last thing you expected was for him to throw his head back and let out one of the sluttiest moans you had ever heard. "ahhh fuckkk!"

you quickly slap your hand against his mouth and pray to god that no one heard that. he lifts his head and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes, whimpering quietly against your hand at your pussy pulsing around him. "satoru, you've got to be quiet, baby, okay?" you ask and he nods, his cheeks red.

you finally lift your hips and before you could even go back down, a deep groan comes from his throat and you stop again. he gets impatient and pulls you down himself, dropping his forehead against yours as he moves you faster.

"mmph feels too good, can't stop," he says breathlessly against your palm, and you have to drop your head on his shoulder at the speed he was going. he truly was trying his best, but as the two of you went on, his whines got louder and louder until they were hoarse moans.

"im close, im close, please, please, please!" he cries against your skin and you take over, pressing your lips against his in the process. he moans into the kiss, his body going weak when you trade the fast movement for slow, deeper movements.

"you like it, 'toru?" you ask, your lips moving against his. he nods quickly, tears beginning to form in his eyes at the sensitivity of his dick but you don't stop.

"baby please- haaa fuckkk!" he begs squeezing your hips and you shake your head.

"promise me you'll be quiet when you cum," you instruct and he nods furiously, just wanting to feel his orgasm. you take his word for it, partly because you were ready to cum too, but you cover his mouth for safe measures.

you go faster now, grinding your hips down on his, and almost as soon as you start, you feel him start to shake and thrust into you himself. "ah, ah ahhhh fuck, fuck, fuck, cummingggg!"

before you could say anything, he holds you down, his head buried in your neck as he moans in your ear and your orgasm hits as well, spurring him on. "ohh shitshitshit too much too much fuuuck!" he cries, holding your body against his as you ride your orgasm out. right when you finish, you hear a knock on the door and your friend's concerned voice.

"hey, is he okay in there, do you guys need help?" her voice rings out and your eyes widen.

"yeah, he's okay, just drank a bit too much!" you shout back and turn back to look at your boyfriend. "cough," you instruct and he does just that. you reach to the side and flush the toilet and pretend to pat his back. "that's okay, get it all out."

"okay, there's some water in the kitchen for him when he's done," she says and leaves. you let out a sigh of relief and drop your head on a slightly sobered up gojo's chest.

"my bad," he whispers and you roll your eyes as you stand up.

"shut up."

[willieverseetheland]

a relationship with dexter morgan...

Dexter Morgan x reader relationship head-cannons and etc. sfw!

trying different layouts, kinda rocking with it.

Dexter Morgan who brings you little sweet treats after work (or rather, after a kill)

He is also known to give you a foot massage from time-to-time

And makes you breakfast in the morning, pancakes of course

He's always watching you, analyzing you, admiring you. Wondering how you do it, act so graceful, exist so human. You're so human to him, real. You feel things deeply, you love, you hate, and craziest of all; you love him. You ground him, keep him in touch with his humanity.

He's often considered himself empty, a shell of a human. However, you make him feel things. Something that deeply shocked him at first, but something he's grown to adore.

He's very protective of you, especially in public. He's not big on pda or even holding hands, but he'll keep you as close to him as possible. Keeping an eye out for any unsavory characters. He knows what kind of people are in this world, he really knows.

If you mention you like something once, he'll show up the next day with a lot of whatever it is. It can be annoying at times, like when you mentioned you like yogurt and Dexter showed up with a case of yoplait every time that you saw him for like a week, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

For being such a control freak, he's not all that controlling in his everyday life. He pretty much always lets you choose dinner, the movie, tv, the restaurant, etc. While he may be thinking how stupid something is on the inside, if you're happy, he's okay with it.

He loves watching you get ready for the day, especially when you do your makeup. He likes the ritual of it, it reminds him that everyone has one, and that he may not be as disconnected from humanity as he thought. He knows they're not exactly comparable, but it's the principle of it.

He's a great listener, he loves hearing you rant about your day, your idiot coworkers, all your simplistic little annoyances and day-to-day happenings. It takes his mind off his very complicated, fucked up life. Allows him to see into the world of the average, normal person.

He's always touching you when you sleep, his hand on your waist, face buried in your neck, legs intertwined with yours. It's likely because his subconscious is convinced that you're going to wake up one day and see him for what he truly is, then leave him.

...

Got inspired by one of my mutual’s recent post, idk why I never considered making short little head cannon posts and whatnot. I think it's cute! Hope y'all like it :)

nsfw version coming soon...

[etherealyoungk]

thinking about mingyu who gets so excited telling you about his day. He talks so fast, his lisp becomes prominent that at some point you barely understand some phrases but its okay, you love him. You'll learn his "language". Even if he gets overly excited his hand gestures knock over his cup or his knees hit the coffee table. Sometimes theres just a brightness in his eyes and flush of his cheeks as he yaps that you just stare. He'd pout when you don't respond and you just giggle and kiss him silly cause he's so passionate, so adorable, so precious, and so yours.

-🍙

🍙 anon this is so cute stop

imagine you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book while sipping on your coffee when mingyu bursts through the door. his face practically glowing with excitement and you can tell he's brimming with stories to tell you.

“gyu, how was your day?”, you ask as he takes a seat next to you.

before you can even take another sip of your coffee, he’s already launching into his tale. “you won’t believe what happened! i was at the—” mingyu begins, his words tumbling out in a rapid-fire. his enthusiasm makes his words merge into a blur of excitement.

as he talks, his hands fly around animatedly, demonstrating every detail of his story. at one point, he’s so engrossed in his explanation that he accidentally knocks your cup of coffee, which spills slightly. you try to keep up with what he is saying, but his enthusiasm is so infectious that you’re too busy watching his bright eyes and adorable, animated expressions, even if you catch only every third word,

“—and then i got this amazing—” he says, waving his hands so energetically that he nearly smacks the lamp next to the couch.

he’s so wrapped up in his excitement that he barely notices the chaos he’s creating. his eyes are sparkling, and his smile is so wide it seems to light up the room. you’re mesmerised by his passion and adorableness, and as you watch him with a soft, loving smile. he’s so cute that it’s almost overwhelming.

you giggle, unable to resist the charm of his energy. he finally pauses and notices you staring at him with an amused smile. “what? why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, pouting slightly.

you lean in, cupping his face gently in your hands. still laughing softly. "because you’re absolutely precious. your excitement is the sweetest thing ever and you're so adorable when you get excited and i love you so much.”

mingyu’s blush deepens, and his pout turns into an almost bashful smile. “really? i just got so caught up in telling you—”

“yes, really", you say, cutting him off. "you’re the cutest thing ever, and i wouldn’t trade these messy, adorable moments for anything.”

he giggles at your words, his eyes sparkling with joy as he looks at you. you lean in and plant a series of quick, silly kisses on his cheeks. “you’re just so precious. i can’t get enough of you.” you say between each kiss. the grin on mingyu's face is infectious as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, getting shy. you just love him so much <3

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[moonstruckme]

I really hope you mean here 🤭

Request: "Remus is being rude to the reader due to the upcoming full moon.. make it as angsty as you can"

Thanks for requesting babe <3

cw: migraine, Rem is mean :(

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

When you come home from work, the apartment is dark and there’s evidence of Remus’ shit day everywhere. 

The curtains are drawn closed against the sunlight, and there’s a discarded blanket on the couch and several snack containers half-emptied on the coffee table. One of them has tipped onto the floor, a mess of crisps your boyfriend was likely feeling too unwell to tidy. He’s spilled tea on the table, too. These kinds of things are more common in the days before the full moon, but you think he must really be having a rough one. Even a few unwashed dishes in the sink is usually enough to stress Remus out, so he has to have been in a state to leave things like this. 

You brew a fresh cup of tea, grabbing some chocolates from the cabinet in case he didn’t bring any with him, and broach the bedroom. A shape moves under the sheets when the door creaks open. 

“Hi,” you say softly. You kneel by the bed, lightly touching the ends of Remus’ hair. “How are you, love?” 

“Bad,” he mutters from beneath the covers. You wince. He must be, if he won’t even lower the sheets beneath his eyes. 

You do your best to keep the pity from your voice, knowing he’d hate it. “I brought you some tea,” you murmur, “if you want it.”

“Can’t right now.” 

“It’s chamomile,” you coax. “It might help—”

“I can’t.” The low rumble of his voice takes on a hard edge, and you fall instantly silent. You nod even though he can’t see it, setting the tea and chocolate on his nightstand as quietly as you can. 

You don’t tell him you’re going, sure every footstep is agonizingly loud for him. You force down the lump in your throat. Remus is miserable right now; he’s not thinking about how his tone affects you, and that’s not his fault. He doesn’t mean anything by it. You can deal with it, help anyways.

You sweep instead of vacuuming, gathering the little bits of crisps into a dustpan and dumping them in the trash. The half-eaten snacks get reshelved in your cabinets, the puddle of tea cleaned off the coffee table, and candles lit to banish the stale smell in the living room. The cinnamon ones are usually Remus’ favorite, but you trade them out for lavender on the off chance it helps with his headache. You’re washing dishes one at a time so they don’t clatter when the bedroom door creaks open. 

“Hey,” you say, relieved. “Feeling better?” 

“No.” Remus’ voice is low, and the scratch of it tears at your heartstrings. He trudges to the end of the hall, where he stops, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “I need you to be quiet.” 

“Oh, sorry.” You soften your voice, freezing with your hands submerged in the warm dishwater. “I’ve been trying, I didn’t realize you could hear. I’m almost done with this, so—” 

“Could you stop?” he asks, tone going harsh again. “Just, be quiet or find somewhere else to be, please. I can’t deal with this.” 

You swallow against the intrusion in your throat. Will away the heat from your face. “Okay,” you say, the word barely a whisper. 

Remus turns, plodding back to the bedroom. You hear the door shut.

You leave the dishwater to get cold rather than pouring it out and making more noise. You sit down on the couch with a book, eyes skimming over the words as you convince yourself over and over that it’d be stupid to cry about this. Your face heats, then cools. Tears blur your vision and you blink them away. This is ridiculous. Remus is just moody, he didn’t mean it. You know better than to take anything he says to heart right now. You can’t expect your efforts to be properly appreciated, but the important part is to keep making them. When he’s feeling better, he’ll thank you in a million sweet ways, because that’s who he is. He loves you. He didn’t mean it. 

It’s dark outside when the bedroom door creaks open again. You hadn’t noticed night falling, even when the light became too dim for you to make out the words on your page. You set your book down; you hadn’t been reading anyway. 

Remus sits next to you without a word. He leans the side of his head against the cushion with a sigh. 

“Dove?” he murmurs. 

You don’t dare do more than hum in response. 

A scarred hand finds your leg, the thumb sweeping back and forth over your skin. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he says quietly. “That was…it was really mean. And undeserved.”

“I’m sorry I was being loud,” you reply, and you can’t help it, your throat clogs all over again. “I was just trying to help.” 

Your voice catches on the last word, and Remus makes a pained sound that has you silencing yourself instantly. He makes another at your response. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he rasps. “Do you want a hug?” 

You bite down on your lower lip. “Are you okay to hug?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart.” 

He meets you in the middle, pressing upon your shoulder blades like he can hold you together by sheer physical force. You try for his sake, swallowing the cries that rise in your throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, palm marking a slow path up and down your back. “You weren’t too loud, I’m just fussy. You were only being your kind self. I had no reason to be so horrid.” 

“You weren’t horrid,” you warble. “I know you’re having a hard time.” 

“That’s no excuse.” His palm makes its way back to your shoulders just in time to feel the first little sob escape you. Remus’ grip tightens. “Aw, dovey. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I spoke to you like that.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” he murmurs, kissing the exposed bit of skin where your shirt is slipping down your shoulder. “It’s not, and—” He pauses, looking around the room for the first time. “Did you clean?” 

You nod against his front, feeling the pained sigh that leaves him. 

“Fuck, I’m awful.” 

“You’re not.” 

“You were cleaning up my mess, and I yelled at you.” Now Remus’ voice sounds a tad raw too. He gathers you closer, stubble scratching your forehead as he kisses your hairline. “My sweet girl. You should have ripped me a new one.” 

“You weren’t yelling,” you point out, teasing a bit now, “and anyway, it seemed like you were already being ripped a new one.” 

“Still,” he mumbles into your hair. “You lit the lavender candles and everything. You deserve to put me through hell.” 

“You’re already going through hell,” you remind him gently, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “I don’t need to help the process along. Do you want some tea, love?” 

Remus hums. “I do, but let me get it. Let me get some for you, too, yeah?” He leans back to look down at you. “You want some nighttime tea, darling?” 

You’re alright really, but you tell him you do anyway. He looks nearly happy as he drags himself into the kitchen, and he won’t stop mollycoddling you for the rest of the night. 

[xoxotiamathh]

Light Switch: Turn On(s) and Off(s)

Note: NO MINORS. Hi angels! There's 3 topics here, one for your current partner, one for your FS and one for your Next Partner, you can choose both Piles one after the other. Paid Readings are open now! Only a few slots are open right now! Please like and Reblog if you like.

Current $ ! % • Next 1 2 3 • FS a b c

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Current Partner

Next Partner

Future Spouse

Current Boyfriend:

Pile $

Okay so, what turns them on is when you are out and about being free spirited, being social and coming out of your shell, they love seeing you interact with other people because they think there's just something so bright and confident in the way you handle your conversations with others that just lights a fire in them. They also enjoys slow, teasing touches when it just gets too unbearable to keep waiting and maybe also phone sex or like sexting thats the kind of person where, before you even get physical, the mind does most of its work. They are all about emotional intimacy that becomes physical. They want soulful sex which is not only about body parts, but more about a deep connection like slow build-ups of lingering kisses, soft touch of skin on skin, exploring each other like it's the first time, every time. Eye contact is a big deal they love when you're both lost in each other oofff hot!

Now for the turn-offs, if it's just the same old, same old if it feels too routine, they're out. Predictable sex doesn't do it for them. They need some edge, something spontaneous. Routine is not the only thing they dislike, they could also feel turned off when they feel like you’re trying to control or dominate them. Too much force or intense power struggles can turn them off. They need balance, not someone trying to overpower them in the bedroom. Gentle dominance might be their thing, but if you push them into something more extreme like bdsm or smn, they may get put off.

Pile !

Mmmm ok ok so they're into the mystery, the allure of the unknown, so what turns them on is literally not knowing, but not surprises just when you are being all mysterious, dam. Also doing things in public, like not public but the thrill of almost getting caught is something that gets them going like there's no tomorrow, a little deserted area in like idk a mall complex Ya that's what they like. They want the sex that feels secret like you both are doing something forbidden, hidden touches, something naughty, and those dark, emotional undercurrents that turn you both on. Maybe even a little roleplay, specifically idk why I'm seeing Jessica Rabbit, but they want you to actively seduce them, almost like, them pretending to be reluctant and wanting you to "coerce" them all like with former consent and conversations of course. They're also aroused by the build-up, long, drawn-out foreplay, teasing them till they're desperate for you. They like that gripping slowness with, slowly undressing, taking your time, also the kind of person who wants to edge you and make you beg for it and vice versa wanting you to make them wait until you both can't stand it anymore.

Okay so although the loves mystery, hidden agendas, playing games, or just suddenly going hot and cold? Nope. They are not into materialistic or transactional sex if you’re treating sex like a “trade” or trying to buy their affection, forget it. They wants genuine chemistry, raw passion, not an exchange. Like they don't like partners who are too materialistic or too into all that conspicuous consumption type thing, it really turns them off like crazy. They also don't like messy, and explosive energy. No awkwardness or emotional wreckage in bed, things need to flow and not fall apart.Like breakup or hate sex or like fighting, that can be like an aphrodisiac for some but for them its just so bleh, that they just want to distance themselves after any sort of conflict.

Pile %

Ok no one is surprised but they are most turnd off during the aftercare and like the time you have after sex when you both just cuddle each other and just lie there inside the afterglow, no rush. Feeling their skin on yours, sensual massage with whispers and lazy kisses before the both of you drift of slowly. Abother sapiosexual here y'all, wildly turned on by your mind flirty texts, dirty talk, and that playful mental foreplay that builds the sexual tension. Transformation in the bedroom, they;re not afraid of change and love exploring new dynamics, role-playing, or even kinky sex that pushes the boundaries of what you two have already explored. Maybe it's bondage, its probably the idea of a power shift. They would be very turned on at the idea of you submitting to them and again vice versa it goes both ways, but the former is definitely more appealing for them.

If you are performing, trying to fake it or be something you're not, they can tell, they need authenticity. If it feels like sex is a game or you're trying to impress them, it will be a major turn-off. No hesitation, they're not into slow, timid sex. They need you to be bold, confident, and willing to take charge. Uncertainty is not hot and they love someone who can be passionate, not someone constantly questioning or pulling back. This is random but they may not be big on like the sound stuff, like if theres a lot of sound during oral, they may get overwhelmed and stop feeling anything at all.

Next Boyfriend:

Pile 1

They get turned on when you celebrate your own small wins, moments of being connected that feel really explosive. They want an experience where everything seems to flow perfectly, and you let go of your inhibitions together, becoming one with each other. A night that feels like an achievement, something worth bragging about. Whether it's after a long, hard day or a special event, he's into that sort of fiery passion that feels like an explosion of joy and lust. Honestly, ok, this may sound bad, but it's not, they just care a lot more about lust, like it gets them off. Okay so, mystery is a huge turn-on. They love the idea of hidden desires and those moments where both feel like you're caught up in a world of your own. Okay so they may also be into like heavy bondage both on them and on you, but more on them, they like giving up control it turns them on. Loves a good slow burn, really enjoys holding out with foreplay, teasing each other just enough so you both are desperate to get at it. Imagine hours of touching, kissing, and discovering, making the final release so much more satisfying. They're a big fan of making things last, giving every moment the attention it deserves, stretching the anticipation to its absolute limit soooo edging and then maybe overstimulation after is something they may be into.

They're not into overly sentimentalized or romanticized sex. When things feel too sweet, or it's more about an emotional connection, they may check out. They needs wild, raw, intense sex that has a lot of passion and lust and not as much love im sorry guys T_T. They aren't about "love-making" where everything has to be about deep emotional bonding and soft, slow moments they're about passion, and they don't need the emotional connection on all levels with someone during sex, just something primal is what they need. They are also turned off by any pressure or expectations in the bedroom. Sex needs to be fun, effortless, and full of pleasure. If it starts to feel like a chore or you’re both putting in too much effort to keep things interesting, he’ll lose interest. No obligatory sex either they want it to feel like its just another thing in their day, like if either of you invest "too much" they're out, god this screamsss commitment issues im T_T.

Pile 2

They are turned on by confidence, not only in the way you look but also in the way you carry yourself. They love it when you feel comfortable in your own body, and confident in your own sexual power. There's something extremely sexy about a person who knows what they want and isn't afraid to take it. If you can walk into a room with that seductive energy, they're already thinking of a hundred ways they want you that night iykwim. They exude like pureee fire energy and love when you bring that bold, fearless attitude to the bedroom. They want you to be playful, yet sensual, taking charge without hesitation. Don't be shy to show them your naughty side, talk dirty to them and dominant positions like cowgirl or reverse cowgirl will definitely turn them on too, just wanting you on top. I'll leave you with three words: Impulsive, Submissive (them) and Animalistic thats it, go crazy go wild.

Okay so they're not much into when you are too nurturing in bed, it may make them feel smothered and turn them off like showing that maternal or nurturing energy at the wrong time, you can make them feel crushed. It's all about going crazy stupid etc and nothing about responsibility. If you are too comfortable, too much in a settled routine, then it doesn't turn him on. They want that newness, that spark that makes everything feel fresh and exciting. Sex should feel like a rush, not something that's guaranteed or too planned out. They are not that interested in domination or dominating. If you play the dominant role with aggression or try to twist roles in a way that feels like they're being overpowered, he will love that. Sometimes tho they want to not have that dynamic and be equal in bed, he likes to believe the two of you can come out of sex feeling balanced.

Pile 3

OOO love this, they get turned on by deep connections that go beyond just physical attraction. They want to feel like there's an emotional bond between you both that translates into passion in the bedroom, the kind of sex that feels like a soul connection where both of you are craving each other so intensely that it's not just sex but it's like you're becoming one. They like it when everything just flows into place, and you just melt into each other grrr this is so hot gn gn gn. They're into that feeling of indulgence during sex too where it feels like you're in touch with the richness of everything, every touch feels so warm and electric and rewarding. They also love when you take your time and you both savour each moment. Like sensual massages, lingering kisses, and a slow buildup that's more about physical gratification than a quick rush to the finish. Guys this person is so ughhhh i want them lmao THIS IS THE I WANT THEM PILE anyway let me continue They want to feel fully surrendered when it comes to you, they're turned on by that level of attraction, the kind where you both want each other so badly that there's no denying the chemistry. There's a dangerous energy here because the lovers popped into my head like you both can't control yourselves, and that unpredictability turns them on.

Okay simple person does not like or want mental games or anything that makes them feel trapped in their head. Any feeling of hesitation and confusion in the mind can immediately take them out of the mood. They need freedom and he is turned off by imbalance. They are going to tune out if it feels like you are only there to please them or if you are not on the same level of pleasure. They want to feel that it's a give-and-take kind of thing, where both of you are on the same level in making each other feel amazing. If you give more than you receive, or vice versa, that is going to sit badly with them. They likes mutual satisfaction where both parties are on the same level of fun. They also don't fw emotional baggage. They will quickly shut down if you bring in past hurt or if you're emotionally unavailable. They turn off anything with lingering sadness or emotional blockages during sex. They are looking for a partner who can put the past aside and live in the moment. If you're not ready to enjoy the moment with them, or if you bring any past relationship drama into the mix, it will kill the mood.

Future Spouse:

Pile a

Oh law conflict turns them on so much whether it's after a fight or just the two of you taking the frustration out after a busy day, they love the rawness that comes from the negative feelings and love channelling that sexually because they may find it difficult to like express themselves in another way. They will be v v turned on by your depth and empathic nature and loves when people open up to them on an emotional level, which opens up a space for deep connection before the physical part comes in. They will be seduced by your nurturing, sensual touch, where you guide them through a moment of emotional vulnerability. Moreover, a connection where sex feels like an expression of love, trust, and emotional fulfilment too, also the kind that thrives on that initial spark of chemistry, there is something about the physical contact that turns him on and they love when the passion between you two feels explosive. If you take the lead with passionate kisses, touching, and mood setting, they will definitely feel the heat building up. Love when others take control, kinda pillow princess-y

They're turned off by stagnation. If you Alright now onto the turn-offs, one of the main turn offs could be when you leave them hanging, or make them wait too long for something, this is in general not you specifically but they are just someone who is very impatient and do not appreciate stagnation and things not moving at their pace. They may also get turned off if someone is a bit of a show off and they will also not like being physically overpowered like it could turn them off because they may be the one who would want to show that aspect off, being strong may be very important to them and if someone can physically overpower them they may just no longer be interested. Furthermore, if someone is to secretive or tries to play too hard to get, they will just stop trying, they are not someone who’s into “the chase” because they grow tired and they believe they are a grown adult not wanting to act juvenile. two get into a pattern or there is too much waiting, too much space, or sex becomes automatic, he'll lose interest. He does not want to feel that he waits for something to happen or that you are withholding or disengaged. Maintain the fluidity of energy: spontaneous and constantly in movement. He needs to feel like there's always something new to discover, or else the passion dies down.

Pile b

They are completely turned on by your sensuality, not just your physical appearance, but how you exude a divine, like soft energy. Whether it's your confidence, the way you move, or the way you connect with them emotionally, they are attracted to the sense that they're with someone who feels at ease in their own skin and radiates warmth, care, and affection. Ykw what turns them on? someone they think they can grow old with. This is someone who likes to celebrate wins with their partner through sex and lovemaking and, body worship like them to their partner or well you is a big big big turn on for them. If you provide for them a space that they feel is secure, they will express passion. This person enjoys having someone who is seriously devoted to making them feel desirable and cared for too.

Alright so, they hate the classics LMAO sorry, the first thing that popped up in my head was NO MISSIONARY like... ok moving on, what turns them off is that they cannot stand inactivity like their libido is high, and they need someone to match their freak like that, it's like where they want to pounce like... almost constantly lmao so if there's like a libido discrepancy it may be a turn-off. They don't want any drama or combat in the bedroom. If any kind of verbal or emotional manipulation is going on or if sex is being used as some kind of way to "win" something over them, its over, they are not into games either, they want connection and vulnerability.

Pile c

Freaky ahh pile SORRY ok moving on, they are giving v v taurus and venus energy with the way their biggest turn-on is having all the senses pleasured and catered to, they love luxury. Like candles, silk sheets, gentle lighting and anything that appeals to the senses and brings pleasure to the body will definitely turn him on. They also like a slow burn, where you both take your time with foreplay and focus on each other's physical enjoyment before diving in. There's an indulgence to this, creating an atmosphere that's rich in sensation will heighten the connection. Whether it’s giving them a sensual massage, taking your time with every kiss, or getting lost in each other’s bodies, this will drive them wild.

They're turned off by someone who's not emotionally present or who holds back. If you're not fully engaged or if you're stuck in the past, emotionally distant, or emotionally unavailable, it's going to drain the sexual energy between you. They are not into emotional baggage that makes you withdraw from the connection. They crave reassurance and closeness, so if sex feels cold or disconnected, it's going to disrupt the passion. They are also repelled by drama, betrayal, or anything that seems like it is the sharp end to a situation. If sex is being used to avoid conflict, they will back off, and they don't want sex to feel like an escape from pain or hardship. They are also turned off by a lack of choice, like if they feel like someone picked them because its like a last resort rather than being picked from a bunch of people like a choice, it turns them off big time.

DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, REPHRASE, REPOST MY CONTENT ALL RIGHTS RESERVED xoxotiamathh©®

[yamujiburo]

Got a few asks about what Pokemon I think Jessie and James would have if 1. they didn't just have the gacha machine and only caught Galarian Pokemon and 2. if they had the chance to go to Paldea

GALAR

Jessie: Sandaconda, Snom➡️Frosmoth, Impidimp➡️Morgrem

Sandaconda is a snake Pokemon. Jessie should be allowed to have all snake Pokemon. Period. Love the idea of her finding it and being unsure of what the hell she's looking at because it's all coiled up but upon it briefly uncoiling she falls in love.

Jessie should have had an Ice Type Pokemon at some point for real. Snow and ice play two big roles in her backstory (eating snow/growing up in a snowy location and her mother disappearing in an avalanche). Her having a lil Snom that's not particularly useful but that she grows to love would be so CUTE. They eat snow together!! Then I love the idea of her going from not thinking much of it to getting more and more attached to it over the series and then having it evolve to Frosmoth after some time (it'd remind her of her old friend Dustox)

Okay this one's gonna take a little explaining but I think it'd be so funny if at the same time, Jessie catches a Hatenna and James catches an Impidimp (mostly because Jessie wants the cute one). BUT Impidimp starts gravitating to Jessie because of her negative energy, which it feeds off of. She's much easier to prank and irritate than James, who's too much of a sweetheart and a little less susceptible to pranks. Jessie never finds out that Impidimp is the one pranking her but notices that it's taken a liking to her for some reason so she and James end up trading their Hattena and Impidimp with each other. It later evolves into Moregrem

James: Polteageist, Toxel, Hatenna➡️Hattrem

I think James is a tea lover, and enjoyed fancy teas when he was a child. Since he's a collector of bottlecaps and Pokeballs, I could see him also collecting teapots/teacups. Maybe they're in a haunted mansion one day and he grabs a teapot thinking it's a rare find but it's actually a Pokemon to his surprise. Also I think he deserves to have an Antique form, so it IS a rare find.

James having another baby Pokemon to fawn over like Mime Jr. would be so cute. It's an egg that the trio find but Jessie's too lazy to take care of it and Meowth's traumatized after the Togepi situation, not wanting to go through all that again. Toxel is born and it's James' everything. It's a bit bratty and constantly vying for his attention, usually by shocking and poisoning him but luckily James has built up an immunity to both those things thanks to Pikachu and Mareanie.

As stated before, James catches Impidimp initially but trades it for Jessie's Hatenna. Hatenna was NOT okay with the amount of emotions Jessie brought to the table and couldn't stand to be around her, often going to James who's much calmer between the two of them. Annoyed by it not liking her and finding that Impidimp DID like her, Jessie demands suggests a trade, which James is okay with as he's been growing attached to Hatenna. After it evolves into Hattrem, it starts (affectionately) smacking him whenever he shows too much emotion, carrying on the "James' Pokemon beat the shit out of him" legacy.

PALDEA

Jessie: Flittle➡️Espathra

Flittle just seems fitting for Jessie. She's always wanting a cute little baby Pokemon but funnily enough, never really gets one in the show. She absolutely pampers it and dresses it up. It eventually evolves into Espathra. Still being Jessie's mini-me, it often mimics her, particularly when Jessie's angry

James: Arboliva

Arboliva just feels like a Pokemon James would have LMAO. I think it'd be really sweet if after a particularly bad blast off, Arboliva finds Team Rocket and helps nurse them back to health even though they're mostly okay. They're grateful to it, James captures it and it continues to try mother all of them (in a less aggressive way than Bewear).

Shared: Scovillain

Listen. It'd be SO funny if Jessie and James shared a Pokemon. They see two Pokemon in the tall grass one day. A Pokemon with a red head and a Pokemon with a green head. Only having one Pokemon each at this time, they decide it's a good idea to catch another each. They throw their Pokeballs at the same time and the catch is successful! Just one problem. They find out the two Pokemon they tried to catch was actually just one Pokemon and they don't know which of the Pokeballs they threw was the one that actually caught it. They argue about it for quite a while but then agree to share custody. Leads to some funny scenarios where they're both trying to direct it in a battle. The red head prefers Jessie and the green head prefers James.

[l0vergirlwrites]

always, forever ; jj maybank

synopsis: after the events in morocco, you can’t help but think about how you almost lost the love of your life.

warnings: general angst themes, mentions of blood & death & weapons, established relationship with jj, mentions of season 4 episode 10

note: obx season 4 actually didn’t end the way it did btw!! this is how it should’ve ended!!

the warm night air at poguelandia was filled with laughs, cheers, & various conversations between the pogues as the radio blasted in the background. it was a pogue style celebration for getting the crown, for fighting tooth & nail, & for being a team.

while the rest of the pogues were on the upper level by the hammocks, feet pounding against the wood with each jump or dance move, you had situated yourself on the main level’s porch, your eyes trained on how the current in the marsh moved, the way the willows bent to the wind, and the fireflies floating through the atmosphere.

you should’ve felt more happy, bursting with joy with each beer you nursed, dancing by jj’s side like there was no tomorrow. but part of you just couldn’t shake the near death encounter you both experienced.

*~*~**~~*~**~*~**~*

the sand was everywhere, whipping at your bodies quickly as you ran through narrow pathways. jj’s hand was tightly holding yours as you led the two of you, his other securing the blue gemmed crown to his waist. gunshots & yelling men could be heard in the background, making you run faster out of fear.

“turn right up ahead!” jj yelled through his bandana covered mouth, squeezing your hand as a signal.

you turned, coming face to face with a wooden door which seemed promising. one minute, you were opening the door. the next, you were in the arms of a dangerous man.

groff had a knife to your neck, pressing hard into your skin as a warning of what he was really capable of. you struggled to breathe in his hold, chest rising up & down frantically as you stared at jj.

the blonde moved slowly towards you, negotiating a trade off between him & the man who’s supposedly his real father. in a swift motion, the crown was in groff’s possession & you were safe in jj’s embrace.

you remember his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, his broken voice assuring you that you were okay when your fingers dug into the clothing on his back.

however, this moment was short lasting because jj let you go so he could face groff one last time.

once you saw groff’s blade twitch in his hand, you pulled jj back as groff moved forward. his knife luckily didn’t go deep into jj’s side, & you had kicked it out of groff’s grip. soon enough, groff was kicked into a ditch below & jj had clutched his side.

the cut was easily remedied by your caring hands, ripping off some of your clothes to press into his side. you were crying by this point, being comforted by jj’s voice & hands as he slid down against the wall. your hands pressed into the wound to keep pressure on the slow bleeding, trying to remind yourself that it was minor & it could’ve been worse.

it could’ve been way worse.

**~*~*~***~*~~**~*~~**~*~*

“was wondering where you went, baby”

you blinked hard, running a hand over your face before turning to the blonde. you smiled at him as he sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his embrace.

“i didn’t go far” you mumbled as you pressed a kiss into the skin on his shoulder, lips touching an old scar of his while you squeezed his knee.

jj couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your hand on his knee wearing the ring he stole for you on your ring finger. “knew it’d be the perfect fit” his thumb pad ran over the silver ring, turning his head to look into your eyes.

you didn’t say anything else, just needing to kiss him because words were too difficult. “i really love you” you breathed out against his lips, unable to hide your smile when he kissed you harder at your omission, his hand on your cheek holding you in place.

jj repeated those words back to you as he pulled away, his thumb running across your bottom lip in thought. he could tell the events from morocco were weighing down on you, he could see it in the way you looked at him.

you were scared that he might vanish somehow after coming so close to it. the thought of it weighed down on him too.

“i’m not going anywhere, you know that right?” he spoke softer now, eyes trained on yours despite his hand pulling one of your free ones to his heart.

with your palm pressed against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat beneath his skin. it made you tear up involuntarily. “i know,” you nodded, clutching the material of his shirt. “i just… m-my mind won’t let me forget it”.

your eyes drifted to his left side, where you could see some of the medical bandaging you had put on earlier peeking out from under his shirt. his cut was healing, he was okay—but you knew it was gonna leave a permanent scar.

jj nodded understandably. he himself had his own internal battles with what happened, the small injury he had sustained.

“if it weren’t for your quick thinking, i—“ he stopped himself from saying it. “you saved me, baby” jj smiled, wiping the stray tear that fell onto your cheek without a second thought.

“well, you saved me first—“ he shut you up with a kiss, brushing his nose against yours.

“we’re always gonna save each other. i know that” you whispered against him when he pressed his forehead into yours, his arm around your shoulders securing you to him—to remind you that nothing will come between you two.

“always” jj agreed, a sappy laugh escaping his chest when you hugged him, your face seeking comfort in the crook of his neck.

he melted into your touch, breathing in the scent of your perfume like a vice as he let out a few tears of his own.

“it’s us against the world for life. always, forever” & you couldn’t agree more.

[goldenroutledge]

love is a broken door

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: fluff. in which broken doors don’t stand a chance against your boyfriend.

warning(s): hurt comfort, reader gets a bruise, some insecurities from carlos

“Damnit! Not again.” You groan, catching the attention of your boyfriend in the next room. It was no surprise that he was standing in front of you in a matter of seconds, before you could even open your eyes after tensing up from the pain throbbing in your arm.

“All good?” Carlos questions, concern clear in his expression and his tone of voice. “What happened?”

“Yes, it’s just this stupid door again.”

His eyes widen, drifting to where you clutched your arm with your other hand as you lean back against the bathroom counter. Out of instinct, he all but lunges closer towards you to take a closer look at the bruise that’s forming.

He hesitates before touching it, until you give him a consenting nod to which he runs his fingers over your swollen skin ever so gently. Carlos may have been a tough guy by trade, but he always regards you with the utmost tender loving care.

“What did the door do? How did this happen?”

“It’s alive or something, I swear. Every time I open this door it never stays open, it sways to about halfway shut. I’ve been forgetting, so when I turn around, I accidentally run into it.”

Carlos frowns, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours with a plea. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve fixed it for you.”

You sigh, rubbing your arm soothingly. “It’s okay, babe. I know you’re busy and I don’t want to bother you with little things.”

“You’re never bothering me, amor. No problem of yours is little, I want to help you.” You kiss his lips reassuringly, hoping that his concerns will fade away.

“It’s not a big deal. In the meantime I’ll just have to watch where I’m going, no worries.”

“No, worries!” Carlos fires back, taking your hands in his before staring you in the eyes. He wants– no, needs you– to know he’s sincere about this. “What kind of man would I be if I let my woman stand in harm’s way, hm?” You giggle, surprised at how serious he’s taking this. You don’t miss the small smile he gives you in return.

“You mean stand in the door’s way? Get it, because it’s a doorway?” His now deadpan expression causes you to crack up even further, he’s clearly unamused with your jokes. “The door is not to blame for my lack of spatial awareness, honey. I promise you, I’m fine and unharmed.”

“Whatever you say, amor.” Carlos surrenders, eyeing you suspiciously. He welcomes another kiss from you before you leave the house, off to run the errands you were originally on your way to do before running into that stubborn bathroom door.

Of course he trusts your word, and he certainly trusts your capability to fix whatever needs fixing at home. But he can’t shake the nagging feeling in his gut that feels an awful lot like guilt.

He loves his career, and your support of him even more, except the part where he has to miss out on the little things. The ordinary, mundane things that happen in your life that he won’t get to know about or experience with you. The little things you won’t bother to tell him because you think he has more important things going on.

Another part of him feels silly for taking it as seriously as he is, but he also knows that the door represents only the surface of the issue that’s really bothering him. Surely he can tell by the way his stomach is turning at the thought of not being around for you as often as he should be. He knows you don’t hold it against him. But he also knows you two don’t have the most settled of lives either. When he overhears your best friend rave to you about the latest thing her boyfriend did for her, he wonders if you’re longing for the same stability.

He wonders what you say about him when it’s your turn to share, no matter how extravagant the gifts or the vacations or the experiences are that you two have shared together. He wonders if that’s really enough.

Carlos takes one good look at the door that’s taunting his insecurities. It makes a creaking sound as it swings halfway shut after he opens it, almost hitting his own shoulder as it did yours moments prior.

–

When you return home it’s quiet, and to your surprise the lights are off in the kitchen. Usually around this time when Carlos isn’t traveling, he’ll be in there perfecting his latest recipe, letting you have first dibs on tasting the food before he shows it off to his family and friends.

“Honey, I’m home!” You sing-song, to which you don’t hear a response. His car was in the garage, so he had to be here. Maybe he opted for a quick nap after his workout?

You quietly tip-toe up the stairs hoping that if he is asleep, you didn’t just wake him up. When you enter your bedroom, it’s a relief to see light shining from the doorway that connects your en-suite.

And if you weren’t surprised at the sight before you, you would’ve been entirely turned on by it. There stood your boyfriend, focused as ever with a drill in one hand and the door held upright with the other. The veins of his arms were especially prominent and he bit his lip in concentration.

“Carlos?”

His eyes glance towards you, startling him, nearly causing him to drop the door that was only partially attached to its hinges. He lets out a breathy laugh, clutching his heart to emphasize the shock he’s in, so engrossed in his project that he didn’t even hear you enter. “Mi amor, you scared me. When did you get home?”

“I got home a while ago.” You muse, walking into the bathroom to see him up close. “But I wouldn’t mind admiring you for a little bit longer.”

He raises his eyebrows, smirking devilishly as your hands trace the muscles of his body over the shirt he’s wearing. “You like what you see?”

“Had I known you look so sexy fixing doors I might’ve just started breaking them.” You make it a point to let your eyes roam before making eye contact with him again. “And it’s not too late, you know. It’s never too late.”

“Before you start on that rampage, can I at least finish fixing this one first?”

“As long as I can watch.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Be my guest, amor.” Carlos whispers in your ear, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

You hop up on the counter, swinging your legs with delight. He focuses once again, inspecting the lines on his beam level to make sure that his drilling will be accurate.

His dark hair is messy and his forehead shines with the sheenest layer of sweat. You can’t help but marvel at how good he looks in the bathroom lighting. So good, that you really do start to consider breaking doors in the house if it means you can see him like this all the time.

Your heart warms at the fact that he’s doing this just for you. This isn't the Carlos Sainz that’s working tirelessly to make his team or his fans proud of him, just you. At the end of the day, that’s all he needs.

He finishes securing the last couple screws before stepping back, nodding his head as he examines his work. He looks your way to see if you’re paying attention, and sure enough you are. He opens the door all the way, and watches you light up when it actually stays put where it’s supposed to.

“See, mi amor? Good as new.” He strides towards where you’re sitting on the counter. Carlos runs his thumb across your bruised shoulder before pressing soft kisses to the swollen skin. “You’ll never have this again.” His lips trail in a circle of kisses around your shoulder and then up your neck, stopping just below your ear.

Butterflies erupt inside your body and your heart warms for the man before you. “Thank you, my love. You’re always looking out for me.”

He shrugs, giving you a soft smile. “I try.”

Your dreamy stare falters slightly, sensing a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “You always do, there’s no doubt about it.”

It’s his turn to feel the butterflies erupt in place of the uneasiness that’s still lingering from earlier. He’s amazed at how with just one look from you, he’s reassured that you’re meant to be together. “I just want to be there for you like you deserve, I hope you know that I’d give you the world if I could.”

“Carlos…” You murmur, taking his hands in yours. “As far as I’m concerned, when we’re together, the world doesn’t even exist.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But I know I’m away a lot of the time and it’s not easy for either of us. It’s not what you signed up for.”

“I signed up to love you, no matter where we are in the world. The distance is just a small part of that, always has been. And if we’re apart or not, nothing will stop me from cherishing our life together. I’m thinking of the big picture, when I can tell our grandkids that their abuelo found time to fix a broken door between racing around the world 24 weekends a year.”

Carlos smiles at your words, almost getting lost in the thought of you two growing old together, imagining the family that you two will create together someday. He’s happy to know that your dreams look alike. “Hopefully they’ll be impressed.”

“Trust me, they will be.” Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His hands cling to your hips in response. “Most people in your position would’ve just hired someone to fix it, but you personally made sure I won’t have to worry about it anymore. Every time that I don’t run into the door, I’ll have you to thank instead.”

He leans forward, kissing you with a familiar passion that never fails to catch you off guard. “You’ll always have me, mi amor.”

You kiss him once again, showing him the same affection in return. Your eyes find each other and you can’t help but smile at the comfort that consumes you. “You’ll always have me, too.”

💌: i didn’t know how to end this lol. reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading :)