#its more about spending time with you than the actual cake

[peachdues]

SANEMI V. NO-NUT NOVEMBER

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳

In honor of it being Thanksgiving in the US, I thought I would feed you all. Happy Turkey Day, skanks.

CW: MDNI. Explicit sexual content.

Let’s count the ways you’ve tortured him over the last thirty days

You would purposefully wait until he arrived back home at his estate before getting yourself off — in his bed, or in his private bath, so that Sanemi had to watch or feel you working yourself, whimpering his name as you imagined your fingers were his.

You’ve never seen a man wound tighter than Sanemi, coming home after a long night of fighting demons and having to put up with incompetent younger Corps members, who is greeted with the sight of his lover, in his bed, legs spread wide open as she plunges her fingers in and out of her wet and ready core, moaning his name. 

You also were fond of trouncing around his estate wearing little clothing — if any. In fact, you were far more fond of wearing nothing but his haori as you cooked for him. Sanemi thought you wouldn’t be able to resist him sidling up behind you and sliding his hands between its open folds to rest on your bare waist. He thought. 

As it turned out, you were more than happy to swat away his eager hands and resume chopping vegetables. Sanemi managed to hold in his groan of frustration until you bent over to pick up a stray piece of carrot that escaped the pot.

Not to mention it was his BIRTHDAY on the 29th and you wouldn’t so much as let him eat his favorite cake (your pussy) 

“But I’m not the one being pleasured, it’s you,” Sanemi’s voice bordered on a whine as he danced his fingers down the curve of your outer thigh.  You swatted his hand away. “Need I remind you that, on more than one occasion, you’ve had to change your clothes after spending time between my legs?”  Sanemi’s eyes are nearly bulging out of his head as you primly turn away from him, tightening the blanket around your half-nude form. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me —“ “Goodnight, ‘Nemi. Happy Birthday.”

But when the clock hits 12:01 AM December 1?

“If you think you’re walking out of this not pregnant — or that you’re walking out of here at all —,” he said severely, yanking you by the calves until your ass was pressed against his thighs. “Then you’ve got another thing fuckin’ coming.” 

Listen. Sanemi respects the fuck out of women, but you’ve been disrespecting him for the last month. He’s about to get MEAN.

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Sanemi is going to need to purchase new furniture by the end of it; shit’s getting smashed by you two. The bed, dressers, tables, you name it, you’re getting fucked on it, and it’s getting broken. 

You are being edged to oblivion. If you whine or complain, it only makes the punishment that much worse (so does crying but he actually wants to see those big fat tears). Sanemi breaks up pace consistently to ensure this happens.  Also, he’s gonna cum as much as he wants, but you’re not until he says so.

And when he finally, finally lets you cum, don’t you dare think it’s over — now he’s going to overstimulate you until you’re sobbing (again)

“You think you’re done, sweet girl?” His saccharine coos made your stomach curl because you knew that tone meant he was being anything but sweet. “Like hell you are.” Sanemi flipped the pair of you over, forcing you to lay with your back against his chest, your arms pinned behind you. The hand not restraining you slid to your throat, gripping softly and tilting your head back against him as Sanemi began to thrust sharply up into you.  “I’ve had to watch you cum around everything but me for the last month, darlin’,” his teeth sank down into the soft flesh between your shoulder and neck. The wince you made at the sharp prick of his teeth was quickly chased away with a few soothing licks and caresses from his deceptively soft lips.  “So you’re gonna be my good girl and cum on my cock until I’ve decided you’ve had enough. Understand?” 

It gets to the point where you genuinely cannot tell apart the fluids on your skin — sweat, your cum, his cum, or your tears 

When he’s finally out of stamina (which is like. days later, RIP you), the last few rounds are much slower, and he’s much softer and clingier. Granted, he’s shooting blanks by then because he’s also overstimulated and exhausted, but he thinks he’s made his point clear enough. He’s actually asking you for just one more, and if you’re crying, he’s quick to kiss the tears away and murmur words of encouragement and love

“Fuck, baby,” Sanemi moaned, his feet digging into the plush of his futon as a means of giving himself leverage to push into you, his thighs and hips having long since lost the ability to work with the same vigor they had when he’d first bent you over. “You feel too fucking good to stop.”  You cried out, fists clenching against the painful pleasure your lover continued to bestow upon you. Part of you was desperate for him to stop, to rest, but your body kept betraying you, your legs tightening around his waist to hold him in place.  “S-Sanemi,” you whimpered, fingers digging into the ropey muscles of his shoulders, unable to decide whether to pull him closer or push him away. “No m-more — I c-can’t —“ “One more, sweetheart, just one more.” He cooed, bending his face low to brush kiss after kiss against your lips, swallowing your moans and whimpers. Sanemi braced his weight upon his fists, situated on either side of your hips as he continued to rock into you. His pace now was far at odds with the one he’d maintained over the last day or two, with the scar-speckled Wind Pillar forgoing his vicious, unrelenting speed that had you clinging onto the nearest piece of furniture for dear life in favor of something far softer and more gentle.  “You can do that for me, right?” Sanemi circled his hips. "Just one more, sweet thing, that's all I ask." 

And you give it to him; though there are big, fat tears leaking down your cheeks and though every nerve in your body is screaming for a break, you come apart around him once more. But Sanemi still isn't fully satisfied even though he's a groaning, cursing mess rutting into you, so his thumb works its way between your legs and presses down. Only when a surge of your sticky fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin, does Sanemi finally relax, his own climax rolling into him like a steady wave.

[babyangelsky]

I'm gonna let my crazy show for a second

I need to talk about how fucking beautiful Fort looked this episode and why, because it's not like I just woke up today and noticed how stupidly attractive he is for the first time ever, I already knew that.

This production is making choices that I really, really fucking appreciate. The most immediately noticeable of which is that they didn't whitewash him at ALL which just makes me so indescribably happy. It's all beautiful golden skin all the time and it's fucking amazing.

But it's not just that they didn't whitewash him, look at his cheek. You can see his skin texture. And it's not just a one-off because he and Peat were gonna play in the ocean later in the scene and the makeup people didn't wanna apply makeup just so it could get washed off by the saltwater.

You can see it here too when he and Peat are back inside. You could use the excuse of "oh well he's meant to be freshly showered so it makes sense that he doesn't have a lot of makeup on". And to that I say, when has that ever stopped a production from caking makeup on their "freshly showered" characters? Half the time their hair isn't even wet when they're meant to be drying it.

Beyond being vastly appreciated by me, the fact that we can see skin texture is also an excellent character detail, and it's deliberate. It wouldn't make any sense for a person who spends their whole day outside sweating and getting in the ocean to look perfectly airbrushed all the time.

It makes sense for someone who spends their whole day inside working on their computer to look airbrushed though, which Peat does. Especially in the first episode when he arrives on the island.

But you know what?

You can see Peat's skin texture too. They put more makeup on him than they do Fort but they don't cake it on. I cannot even TELL you how happy that makes me.

But this...this is what I really wanna talk about.

Do you see them?

DO YOU SEE THEM? DO YOU SEE THE BEAUTIFUL NORMAL STRETCH MARKS ON THIS MAN'S SHOULDER AND CHEST? DO YOU KNOW HOW AMAZING IT IS THAT WE CAN SEE THEM, THAT THEY DIDN'T EDIT THEM OUT IN POST OR SLAP MAKEUP ON THEM TO HIDE THEM?

*pauses to get myself together*

Listen I am someone who notices every single little mole, freckle, and birthmark that someone has because I think they're beautiful. It's probably concerning how often I notice them and how happy it makes me when I do. And it really makes me angry that these completely normal parts of someone's skin are seen as imperfections or only desirable when they're a certain size or on a certain part of their body. And you know what else always gets labeled as an imperfection? As something that has to be hidden?

Stretch marks.

Every single human being alive has stretch marks because every single human being alive has skin but for some reason, people are made to feel ashamed of them. They're made to feel like stretch marks are these unsightly things that they only have for x, y, or z reason.

Our skin stretches as we grow! Of course we all have stretch marks! All of us! Even the fittest, most shredded person you can think of has stretch marks! They aren't a consequence of your weight or how much muscle you have, they're part of having a body! They're NORMAL.

Do you understand how big a deal it is that we can see Fort's? That we can see every aspect of his skin, including and especially its actual fucking tone? This man--I just--just--

I WANT TO EAT HIM WITH A SPOON

I love that they didn't make him get shredded for this role I love how beefy he looks I love that he looks like a real person I love that you can see his shirt tan I love his fucking stretch marks I love the mole on his chest and the one on the back of his upper arm and the ones on his face I love love love love love!!!

Alexa, play "Piel Morena" by Thalia

[class1akids]

I don't ship bkdk, but it still makes me feel really angry to watch dudebros hunting down the devoted shippers on Twitter who make any kind of negative noise about Ch 431 to just put them down - whether it's the JPN, EN or ES language fandom.

I find it really revolting because it feels like this group of overwhelmingly male fans care more about having "WON" and being "RIGHT" and being able to BRAG and PUT DOWN a group of fans who are overwhelmingly women, who actually supported the franchise by buying the manga officially, spending lots of money on merch and going to events.

These dudebros were spreading leaks and meme-ing them before the official could even occupy any space and even now, all they care about "Deku tapping Uraraka's cake".

If shippers make a well-argued comment about how it feels like Izuku is losing his dreams, and how sad it is, the answer is "LOL, you are just a gross, disgusting, delusional fujoshi".

In the end, I'm sad that Horikoshi and WSJ enabled this exact behaviour, because they knowingly fed this devoted shipping fandom with things like the GIGA cover, making 20,000 yen stickers to sell, releasing official tiktok video with sparkling hearts, releasing BKDK MV with the ending of the official serialization in August with Ch 430 and then pushing out merch after merch during the next 4 months, only to turn around and release Ch 431 with an unprecedented Origin Trio bonus and not even a hint at the Izu/Cha ending.

And yes, there have been volume bonuses before, but rarely drawn by Horikoshi. The only other example of 3 different bonuses drawn by Horikoshi was Vol 33 with the black&white Deku/Iida, Deku/Ochako, Deku/Bakugou cards. But for those, some of the bonuses didn't really sell well and even then, Vol 33 held the sales record until now.

This time, they released it with individual color illustrations of the 3 massively most popular characters of the franchise (mostly supported by female fans, in idol poses made to appeal to female fans). Many fans bought 3+ copies to collect all.

Anyways, it makes me angry not because of the ship ending - because I frankly am not terribly invested in who Deku ends up in canon, and not even the botched bkdk hero office, because in my head it's origin trio office or nothing, not even the thrown away themes because for me the manga already betrayed its themes when it failed to save the villains.

It makes me angry, because it feels like a final betrayal of the female fans. Female audiences have become more than half of this manga's fandom and became a factor in WSJ's business decisions. And I thought that 430 - if nothing else - tried to cater for the manga's diverse shipping community - an implicit recognition that the female audience's preferences are acknowledged and taken into account and maybe will change female portrayal in manga.

So I find it cowardly not that they end on a het ship, but that they do it in a sneaky way, like a total ambush, once they have squeezed maximum money out of these female fans. Not only did they knowingly disappoint these women but they gave a "weapon" at the end to the men, who somehow regained their "masculinity" from the het ship ending to beat down the same women who bankrolled their franchise this whole time.

The same dudebros who called Deku a loser for being a teacher in Ch 430 and the suit pathetic, now cheer on the same ending - where the only thing that changed was that Deku "rejected" Bakugou (the big, scary gay ship), and where a het ship was confirmed.

And to me, now beyond this particular manga, it just confirms that the rampant misogyny in manga spaces continues. That women are not seen as an audience important to consider beyond money-bags. Rather the opposite - WSJ thought it was more profitable to turn on them and reaffirm the toxic masculinity of men who have always seen Deku not as an example of selfless heroism but as a power-fantasy.

Because even if the magical superpowers are taken away, even if the great dream of the once idealistic child is lost, as long as men have power to put women in their place (in-story by conforming to their desires and in real life by being able to tell them that the way they read the story was delusional and wrong) - they feel like they have won.

[catscidr]

// dottore nsfw alphabet ft. the segments! //

i. note — (੭ ᐛ ) hehe.....so...... i have the worst writer’s block rn (its probably burnout because i straight up can't bring myself to do anything but o well) nd i thought filling this out would help. spoiler alert it did a little because i actually finished it.... i have like two Almost Finished wips collecting dust in my docs but i just cant get them done ueue. i write for thirty minutes n then close my laptop. i have a problem but WHATEVER!! THROWS DOTTORE NSFW ALPHABET LIKE A GRENADE AND RUNS!!!

ii. includes — dottore, the clones, gn!reader

iii. cw — nsfw under the cut! mentions of overstimulation, bondage, orgasm control, power imbalance, smidge of dubcon, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, one mention of syringes n needles, implied established relationship

A -> Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) 

— He’s not one to outright pamper you, but he does clean you up and makes sure that the bruises he left won’t be too sore in the morning; but if you beg hard enough, he’ll begrudgingly kiss them better. Just use his words against him and tease him a little n he’ll reward you with some smooches! ez

B -> Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s) 

— He’s indifferent to his body. On you, though, he goes crazy for your neck. Archons, the things he can do to it are endless. He loves covering it in bitemarks, wrapping his hands around it to feel your rapid pulse, sucking hickeys into the sensitive skin... and we can’t forget how much he loves watching you tilt your head to the side so he can inject whatever liquid is inside his syringe. Call it a mix of sensual and morbid fascination the way he’s obsessed with your neck 

C -> Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— Dottore’s cum is opaque and on the thicker side, but its bitter and not particularly pleasant to swallow. You can’t really blame him; he’s a busy man and he neglects his health regularly. If you ask him nicely, he’ll try to, at least, sip on some pineapple or orange juice during the day so you don’t rush to spit out the cum that lands in your mouth. He also cums a lot, thanks to his involuntary abstinence in his younger years.........

D -> Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

— Has thought about fucking you in front of his segments multiple times (not fucking you with them, just having them watch you two go at it. big difference here). It’s usually fueled by irritation or jealousy from seeing you spend time with them, but sometimes he’ll get this random urge to just completely and utterly claim you in front of them to get under their skin. Also to overwhelm you. yk. just a bit ˙ᵕ˙

E -> Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— Wasn’t very experienced before he met you. Had one or two awkward hookups during his Akademiya days, but he really had more knowledge about sex than actual experience (getting a bad blowjob doesn’t really count for experience) 

F -> Favorite position

— You somehow always end up in the prone bone position if you’re on a flat surface. He loves restraining you, but doing so with his whole body takes the cake. He’ll have one hand wrapped around your throat with his elbow on the bed to hold him up (so he doesn’t completely crush you), and the other hand will be holding your hip with a bruising grip to angle your pelvis so he can thrust into you over n over again without mercy

— .....but having you ride him when he’s tired is worthy of being an honorable mention. Don’t think you’re in control though, because as soon as you start to get too cocky he’ll grab your waist n thrust up sharply to knock that smile off your face (affectionately) 

G -> Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) 

— Very serious, he’ll go as far as to punish you for even trying to crack a joke or giggle at something he said or did (but it’s a dub whenever you’re in a bratty mood so it’s fiiiine). Same goes for his older segments. His younger clones are less uptight about it though, and sometimes they’ll let out a laugh when a funny noise happens, but they won’t necessarily make jokes during it 

H -> Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 

— Trims it when he remembers to, when it gets annoying, or when you point it out. He’s not a fan of being clean-shaven, but if you really want him to be he’ll do it. His pubic hair is a darker shade than his hair, and the first time you saw it you promptly said “so you don’t dye your hair!” (he immediately flicked your forehead) 

I -> Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 

— Dottore isn’t romantic, full stop. But on a scale of 1 through 10 he would be around a 6; could charm you and sweep you off your feet if he wanted to, but he finds more enjoyment in teasing you than being a gentleman. 

J -> Jack off (masturbation hc) 

— He forgets that’s even an option when he’s in Snezhnaya. Whenever he gets hard he’ll have you take care of it, whether it’s in the form of a quickie or completely ditching his work to fuck you. So he only really masturbates like... once a week, twice at most if you’re not in the mood to help him with his hard on. 

— But when he has to go out to other regions for work and won't be with you for long periods of time? He gets off more often than he’d like to admit. 

K -> Kink(s)  

— Big fan of dacryphilia, spit/messy sex, overstimulation, any kind of restraints, edging, breathplay, power imbalance, biting, dirty talk, brat taming, double penetration and anything that tests your limits. 

— Medium fan of sex under the influence of either alcohol or aphrodisiacs, somnophilia, exhibitionism, temperature play, slightly dangerous things like knife and gun play, and group sex (with his segments specifically, no one else. he’s possessive of you) 

— Honorable mention: roleplay, to some extent. Mans loves to do a “medical checkup” on you every once in a while. And he’s more of a dom than a sub, too. His older segments have pretty much the same kinks as he does (ofc), but the younger ones tend to lean more towards being switchy than just. dom 

L -> Location (favorite place to do the do) 

— Has a bias for taking you in his office. Loves the idea that any of his segments could overhear the both of you going at it and all they can do is rub one out somewhere quiet. He’s so mean to them, using you like that......... 

M -> Motivation (what turns them on)

— When you act like a brat, purposely teasing him n pushing his buttons..... makes his blood rush down to his cock. Can’t help thinking of the many ways he’ll put you in your place later 

N -> No (immediate turn offs)

— Anything that has to do with his kid/youngest segments and his coworkers, the other Harbingers.

O -> Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) 

— Would rather receive than give, but won’t shy away from the opportunity to overstimulate you with his fingers/hands and tongue. Isn’t the best at giving head but will gladly take the time to learn what makes you cum the fastest if you want him to 

P -> Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

— Dottore’s usually fast n rough, but he’ll have his moments where he wants to dote on you hard. His lack of affection catches up to him n he just wants to trace every curve of your body while languidly driving his cock inside of you sometimes, what can ya do 

Q -> Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) 

— Prefers taking his time to tease you by a mile, but he loves quickies too (since he can very well tease you by having a quickie) 

R -> Risk (are they game to experiment?) the irony of this wording isn’t lost on me 

— He's game to experiment. If you’re on board, he’s always willing to try something at least once 

S -> Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

— His younger segments tire out easily (virgins....... /affectionate) but his older ones, himself included, can go on and on and on. Him being a hermit n staying in his lab for multiple days at a time is extremely misleading, don’t be fooled!! He’ll overstimulate you to prove a point if you try to even poke fun at him n imply that he’ll get tired because he doesn’t “exercise” much (you’re his exercise, anyways) 

T -> Toys (do they have any?)

— Dottore does have some (and has dabbled in making some, too), namely (big and small) vibrators, dildos, and restraints but most of the time he prefers doing without them than with. Usually. When he does use them, he’ll make the whole “session” about them. 

— Controlling the rate in which a machine fucks you while he lazily jerks off in front of you, just out of your reach so you can’t touch him.... slowing down the silicone dildo’s pace when you start to get frustrated, making you even more frustrated..... yeah 

U -> Unfair (how much they like to tease) 

— He’s the WORST. The worst!!! You never know if he’ll overstimulate you, edge you, ruin your orgasm or just rile you up just to not do anything about it. Loves teasing you just as much as he loves to bury himself in his research (which is, obviously, a lot. good luck soldier) 

V -> Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

— Definitely on the quieter side (and it’s totally not so he can hear you more clearly, nuh uh). Lets out grunts/growls and heavy puffs of air more than actual moans, but it just makes the times whenever you do manage to draw out a pretty boy moan even sweeter <3 

W -> Wild card (a random hc) 

— Il Dottore, the Second Harbinger, outcast of the Akademiya, is incredibly touchy. He’ll place his hand on your waist when he walks past you, he’ll keep a hand on your thigh when you’re accompanying him during a meeting. He needs to have a hand on you at all times /whenever it’s possible/, including when you’re having sex. Can’t go a single second without touching you, he would probably actually bite you without any remorse if you tried to tie his hands so he can’t touch you 

X -> X-ray (what’s going on under those clothes ₍ᐢ.  ̫.ᐢ₎ ) 

— Bigger than most, but more of a grower than a shower. 3.8 inches soft and stands at a proud 7.4 inches when hard, with a 4.7 girth . Circumcised (don’t ask how), his skin is light (#FFEBCF) but his cock fades into a slightly darker color (#F7D4BC) while the head is more of a pretty n peachy tone (#F1A491). Has some light scarring in his pelvis area and a defined vein from the bottom of his shaft that stops shy of his glans. Also curves to the right just a bit.......

— His pubes r a dull-ish blue (#88B5D3)— while the hair on his head is a lighter, more teal blue for reference (#B6E0E0). Has a slight happy trail, too

Y -> Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) 

— He used to have a very low sex drive. In the beginning of your relationship, it wouldn't be uncommon for you two to go weeks without any action. As time went on though, he’s come to develop a higher sex drive and now has a mid to high libido. It’s your fault for being so tempting, really 

Z -> Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

— Has the freakish ability to go right back to work as if nothing ever happened when you’re both finished, no matter how much you both cum...... makes him the perfect man to provide aftercare though. He’ll stay by your side while you drift off and then he’ll go back and do whatever he has to do— unless you cling onto him n pull him back to stay in bed. If that does happen, he’ll just sit in bed and read a book while you snooze away. 

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part v

✧.* you come to realise that your relationship with lando might just be the most serious and mature relationship you've ever had and while that confuses you more and more each day, your taking it all because some people just love to watch the world burn.

✧.* introducing some people, making babes suffer a little less, hating Alpine, you know the drill, its a chill one really 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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cecilemoulin posted to their story

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y/nusername

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris and 431,657 others

y/nusername oh my days ✨️

tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell, dashthebeagle

view all 892 comments

f1gurls we've reached peak dog mom, Dash got an Instagram 😭

norrizz waaaaaait y/n's finally gone insta official with lando?!

mclarenbabies it was about time, lando did it nearly two weeks ago 😂

fewtrelllando good to see they've adopted max 🥰

landonorris disgusting

y/nusername you've clearly never looked in a mirror before

landonorris I was talking about the sushi

y/nusername oh..

y/nnorris I love them your honor 😭

landoscar why's dash looking at me like that, why is he judging me? 😭

mrsnorris 🤮 🤮 🤮

landonorris exactly, who would eat sushi?

chilisainz lmfao girl thought she did something

hamilt44n hey girlie, you got lando's attention, speak up 👏

charlie_leclerc I'm changing my mind, they are actually cute together

thomasgoms 😍

y/nloveee we either have a supportive ex-boyfriend or mans completely missed the picture of y/n and lando 💀

norry4 Arianna what are you doing here?

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cecilemoulin

liked by y/nusername, landonorris and 198,763 others

cecilemoulin spending the 28th with the funniest, prettiest and dumbest ones. ❤️

tagged: y/nusername, landonorris, maxfewtrell

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girlsofthegird happy birthday Cecile! 😍

carlandooo lmfao milou watching the stories and seeing this post: 🧍‍♀️

george63russell I mean she's been a lil' bitch lately so are we really surprised? 👀

miloubabess she's with her family on a holiday, guess she couldn't make it 🙄

fewtrelllando I don't known about y'all but this smells like a double date!

norrizz HOWLING THE CAKE 😭

y/nlandooo peak y/n behaviour 😭

chilisainz loving this new friend dynamic, always thought Cecile and y/n would be a better match than y/n and milou..

maxfewtrell well..great picture..

cecilemoulin max, don't worry, you are the prettiest!

y/nusername the prettiest princess of them all 🎀

landonorizzzz goddammit, those muppets really do be in love huh

thomasgoms happy birthday Cecile!

y/nluv boy get out of here..🤨

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part two.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 17,349 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername from a little boy meeting his heroes to a young man racing alongside them, getting to see all you’ve accomplished throughout the years makes me the proudest sister in the world. 2024 better watch its back, because sargeants always come back swinging.

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logansargeant we pack a mean punch too 👊

↳ yourusername the meanest 👊

user wait no cuz this is actually so cute omg??? i want a sister to make cute posts about me

user definitely can’t wait to see more y/n at the races in 2024

williamsracing It was lovely having you in the paddock this season Y/N! We’re already looking forward to seeing what 2024 has in store!

↳ yourusername it was a genuine honor to be there! plus i look great in blue 😉💙

↳ user wait does this mean logan is re-signing??

alex_albon me and lily would love to have you both come round during the break if schedules align! 

↳ yourusername awwww alex!! speaking on behalf of logan, we’d love to!!

user i’m living vicariously through the sibling bond that the sargeant twins have

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mclaren Some of our favourite meme-worthy images of Oscar from 2023! Which is your fav?

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oscarpiastri guys…

user mclaren admin knows what the people want

↳ user mclaren admin feeding us well on this fine day

user these are actually so funny omg mans ain’t got no face filter

landonorris yea so this won’t be necessary for me pls and thx

↳ mclaren We already have the pictures ready! 👍

user i’ve made all of these faces at my tv this year

yourusername oh to be a rubber ducky in oscar piastri’s ice bath

↳ user OH? MY?? GOD???

↳ user UMMMM

↳ user real

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landonorris papaya pals! looking forward to another season with you mate

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user going into cardiac arrest

user damn oscar looking caked up

↳ user i’m glad i wasn’t the only one thinking it

oscarpiastri of all the pictures

↳ landonorris i giveth thy people what they want

↳ yourusername and we thank you for it sir lando 🫡

user MANIFESTING MORE PODIUMS FOR 2024

mclaren Looking forward to another year, boys! 🧡

danielricciardo you’re only posting these to show off your ass

↳ landonorris and if i am?

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yourusername i can still recall our last summer 

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logansargeant it’s december 1st???

↳ yourusername it’s summer somewhere

user i wish i lived in florida

user MAMMA MIA REFERENCE

oscarpiastri ☀️

↳ yourusername 🌊

user i’m so delulu about what this could mean

↳ user it’s probably just an aesthetic caption?? y’all are fr crazy

↳ user no cuz it’s literally winter rn in the states so why would she post about summer?

↳ user bc she lives in florida?? where the weather is like summer all the time??

You lower your phone and look back to the dark waters crashing against the shore. Logan’s time in Formula 1 has meant you’ve been traveling around the world, getting to experience so much more than you’d ever imagined you would in your lifetime, but nothing compares to the familiarity and comfort of Florida— of home.

And your friends.

“So,” Sophia bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes alight with mischief when you turn to meet her expectant gaze. “Come on,” she teases, “tell me about him.”

You’ve been friends with her for a few years now, ever since moving back to the United States. She was born and partially raised in Belgium, so after spending so long in Europe, she’s the only one who understood the minor culture shock of moving back. You both clicked, and you’ve been stuck together ever since. You’ve learned, however, that if there’s one constant about her, it’s without a doubt her need to gossip about anything and everything— but specifically boys.

You huff out a laugh, “There’s no ‘he’ to tell you about.”

She hums into her glass of wine, eyeing you skeptically.

“There isn’t!” You laugh, shoving her lightly.

She gasps and feigns falling back onto the blanket spread out beneath you. She’s dramatic, too, and that’s another reason you matched so well. She feels like the sister you never had, which makes moments like this feel even more special.

“This back and forth with a certain OP-eighty-one suggests otherwise,” she sing-songs back at you as she sits up, making kissing faces and cackling when you shove at her again.

“I’m not sure how you even know about that,” you grumble. “You don’t even use Instagram.”

“Maybe not, babes,” she casts her gaze out across the ocean, “but I have my sources. So come on, between us girls and us girls only, tell me what’s going on.”

You heave a sigh, gulp down the last mouthful of wine in your glass, and then pour yourself another while she waits. You’re not getting out of this, and part of you does really want to talk about things. On top of being your brother and therefore way more protective than he needs to be, Logan is also Oscar’s best friend and you’re not sure what “bro code” is exactly, but you imagine not dating your friend’s sister is part of it— so he’s out of the question. You’d go to Dalton if you were sure he wouldn’t tell Logan, but they’re loyal to each other and have some sort of unspoken pact when it comes to your love life. You joked once that instead of your dad, it’d be them waiting at the door with a shotgun if you ever brought a guy home, but you���re not sure it was a joke at all with how they act sometimes.

“It started in Bahrain,” you begin, rolling your eyes when she wiggles excitedly and turns her undivided attention to you. “I’ve known him for a while because he and Logan have driven together since they were young, so I messaged him after the race to say that it sucked he had to retire so early into it.”

“And?”

You shoot her a look. “And, we kept talking. One thing led to another and we met up for drinks…” You fiddle with the rim of your glass, glancing back out to the water. You can’t tell if the heat on your face is because you’re embarrassed, or from spending so much of your day under the Floridian sun. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?” She asks incredulously.

“Well—” you purse your lips. “We kissed. Once. When he dropped me off at the hotel. But it was probably just the alcohol or something. I don’t think he wanted it to mean anything. I bet he just wanted to have fun but couldn’t because he had to leave early in the morning.”

She sends you a look. “He was sober enough to drive you back… but you think it was alcohol influencing his decisions? And he kissed you, even knowing he wouldn’t be able to ‘have fun?’ Right. Didn’t mean anything at all.”

You shake your head and huff. “He was upset because he’d had such high hopes for his first Grand Prix and it ended poorly, and I was there to comfort him, so maybe that’s why. He got caught up in the moment, or something.”

“Y/N, I love you. I do. You’re my best friend and you’re like a little sister to me,” she cups your face in her hands and turns you to look at her. “But you can be so dense sometimes, do you know that?”

“Then why hasn’t he brought it up?” You ask, your voice garbled slightly from the way her hands squish your cheeks together. “We saw each other again in Melbourne, to celebrate him getting his first points, and he didn’t say anything then. Or Miami, or England, or Japan.”

She gives you another look and lets your face go. “It’s a two-way street, babe. Why haven’t you brought it up?”

And… that’s a good point. You technically could’ve brought it up, too. You’d just been so afraid of how he would’ve reacted that you’d chosen to keep quiet, preferring uncertainty over rejection. It’s the same reason why you so rarely pursue the things you want. A fear of rejection stands in your way, and you realize suddenly that you could’ve ruined things with someone you genuinely like just because you were afraid.

“You know, like, Schrodinger’s cat," you start meekly. "If you don’t open the box, the cat is dead and alive, because you don’t know. So I never brought it up. Because not knowing is better than him telling me it was nothing.”

She reaches out and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side. When she speaks again, her voice is calmer, less accusatory, a murmur against the ambiance of the hissing tide— “But what if he tells you it’s something?”

You groan. “He probably thinks I’m not interested.”

“Y/N—”

“Oh God!” You pull away and bury your face into your hands. “I ruined it all!”

She pries your hands away and looks you in the eye. There’s a sparkle in her gaze, it’s the look she gets when she has a plan.

“You haven’t ruined it. We just have some work to do.”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis

━━ a/n: i am overwhelmed by the amount of love on the first part of this! genuinely did not anticipate it at all, and i'm so thankful. so here's the second part! i hope it does justice to the first!

[max1461]

Other people want the world as a whole to "mean something" or "be about something" and I just don't. That's so terribly constricting, so suffocating. I'm much more inclined to positive nihilism.

I'm reading about LotR lore lately, and I really like LotR, but all the Christianity in it distresses me. Why must the world be governed by Eru Ilúvatar's infallible and undefeatable master plan? Doesn't that take out all the stakes? More importantly: part of what I like about LotR is its valorization of the small and the ordinary, as represented in the hobbits but also in, you know, Tolkien's proclivity to spend more time talking about potatoes than he needs to, and whatnot. There's a valorization of the small over the grandiose. It's like, finding dignity in the ordinary or something, that feels like a big part of Tolkien's project, and I'm deeply sympathetic to that. But then he has to go and add, you know, an omnipotent and omnibenevolent creator and omnimalevolent enemy (Melkor, not Sauron) and like...

First of all I hate the combination of omnipotence and omnibenevolence, it just doesn't work in any kind of narrative, it doesn't work in Christianity either, it's just *so* having your cake and eating it too. Like, Christianity itself has something of a "valorization of the small" going on but it also fails there, because (people have already said all these things) Jesus isn't actually just some guy, he's actually god the all-powerful and infallible lord of the universe! And he doesn't even really suffer or debase himself except temporarily, he ascends to heaven in the end, whereas sinners are sent to hell to suffer permanently for their imperfections. And "the meek will inherit the earth" by submitting to God and doing everything he says!

Not really valorizing the small there IMO.

Anyway Christianity doesn't succeed at this but the thing about Tolkien is he gets so close. When he says stuff (this is from one of his letters apparently, I quoted it the other day) like

It had been Sauron’s virtue (and therefore also the cause of his fall, and of his relapse) that he loved order and coordination, and disliked all confusion and wasteful friction… it was the creatures of the earth, in their minds and wills, that he desired to dominate.

I'm like, yeah! I'm with you bro! But then there's the whole thing about, well, Eru Ilúvatar's creation was perfect until Melkor's discordant singing marred it, and now it's imperfect and that's the source of all evil, but it's also fine because Eru's vision is bound to win out in the end, it's like... you're undercutting your whole thing! Eru is doing what Sauron wants to do, it's just that he's winning at it. Maybe the point is that Eru permits free will, or something, while Sauron doesn't. But this still seems weak in light of the whole "Melkor as the origin of imperfection" thing. You can't valorize the small and the ordinary without being comfortable with imperfection. You can't make a story where imperfection is Inherently Evil, as it seems to quite literally be in Tolkien's cosmology, and have it land for me as a critique of lust for power. Like. What do people even want to do with power except Eliminate All The Imperfections? Obviously some just want to enrich themselves, but I think Tolkien's opposition to power-seeking plainly runs a lot deeper than just opposition to self-interested power-seeking, which is

what I like about it, and

why this incongruity is so frustrating.

Anyway, there's that Scott Alexander post, Heuristics that Almost Always Work. I agree with the thesis of the post as such, but there's this line in it that perfectly articulates the reason rationalism tends to alienate me:

The Futurist He comments on the latest breathless press releases from tech companies. This will change everything! say the press releases. “No it won’t”, he comments. This is the greatest invention ever to exist! say the press releases. “It’s a scam,” he says. Whatever upheaval is predicted, he denies it. Soon we’ll all have flying cars! “Our cars will remain earthbound as always”. Soon we’ll all use cryptocurrency! “We’ll continue using dollars and Visa cards, just like before.” We’re collapsing into dictatorship! “No, we’ll be the same boring oligarchic pseudo-democracy we are now” A new utopian age of citizen governance will flourish. “You’re drunk, go back to bed.” When all the Brier scores are calculated and all the Bayes points added up, he is the best futurist of all. Everyone else occasionally gets bamboozled by some scam or hype train, but he never does. His heuristic is truly superb. But - say it with me - he could be profitably replaced with a rock. “NOTHING EVER CHANGES OR IS INTERESTING”, says the rock, in letters chiseled into its surface. Why hire a squishy drooling human being, when this beautiful glittering rock is right there?

Bolding in the final paragraph mine.

"Nothing ever happens or is interesting". Really? Is that what the skeptical futurist is saying? Certainly he's saying "nothing ever happens", that I'll grant. But he's not saying "nothing is ever interesting". You added that, Scott, because to be interested you need something Big to happen. You are not filled with love for the small and ordinary, it is just wasted time and wasted space to you.

I do not particularly like the Big, at least not most of the time. I like the small quite a lot. And, contrary to their names, I think most of the world is small. The world is made of lots of small things, not a couple big things. And I often feel that the small is the only thing that's actually real, the big tends to be illusory. As a small creature it is other small things that affect me most and matter most to me, it is my small dealings with other small creatures that are subjectively the biggest. And the various grand narratives of history, if they exist, only affect me in a diffuse and nonspecific way and are in all their specifics born out in small things.

I am very much a partisan of ordinary things, ordinary dealings, of our daily lives and our individual relationships and perhaps ephemeral but deeply felt emotions as the actual source of value in the world, from which Big things insofar as they matter at all derive their importance. And, aesthetically I suppose, I am also a defender of the inherent dignity of small things and cast-aside things (a different but closely related category). And there are close connections between the small and the vast (which is not the same as Big), and. Well, take my uquiz. But anyway.

[swanimagines]

MASKS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: You are incredibly beautiful but you have always been insecure of your own face, so you wear a mask. But in the middle of doing a heist, the mask breaks.

Ever since childhood, you hadn't liked what you saw in the mirror. Your nose was too big. Or too small. Your lips were too thin. Or then they looked like a bee had just stung them. Your eye color was bland. You just bashed yourself in front of the mirror every morning as you had brushed your teeth, and other kids at your neighborhood didn't really help with that - kids could be cruel if they were given a reason for it.

So, that day you moved into Ketterdam, you made yourself a mask before anyone got to know you. A beautiful white mask made of porcelain, with cat ears and a red stripe going over your eye. It fit perfectly around your face, hiding any imperfections behind its perfect curves.

You joined the Dregs, a gang ran by a young man who was barely 18. Kaz Brekker wasn't interested about your mask, he only wanted to know how you could fight and you were in. It didn't take long after that before you joined the heists with him and the other five people who called themselves "Crows". You quickly had made friends with them, spending evenings with them and finally feeling like you had a family again.

Kaz ended up growing something more than just your boss. It took a while, but he let his walls down with you, took a faint hold of your hand when you were worried about your wounded friend and even tried to comfort you, although he wasn't a master in it. In turn, you had showed him your face, let yourself be vulnerable too. He had looked at you with so much love you thought it's uncharacteristic of him, but at the same time you felt how your cheeks grew hot as you felt cared about for the first time in years.

Jesper had seen your face too, but it was by accident. He had barged in to Kaz's room because Wylan was missing and he was scared out of his mind and walked straight to the bedroom, just in time to see you sit up and your eyes met his. He froze for a moment before you ducked your head and took your mask, and Jesper knew better than to question it. He told you that Wylan is missing and you sprang into action immediately, dressing up and hurrying out of the office.

Turned out Wylan had been fetching Jesper a cake because the sharpshooter's birthday was the next day. Thank the Saints you found him first, so the surprise wouldn't be ruined.

A few months from that, and you were on another heist. Another merchant in the city, who has bragged about his fortunes a little too enthusiastically. In Ketterdam, you had to remember that someone was always listening, and this time that someone was Inej. A week from that, and you were at the manor of that merchant.

Kaz had ordered you and Jesper to keep watch at the hallway as he worked on the hidden safe around the corner - the merchant was smarter than he looked, he had put a safe inside a safe, and hid that behind a large and incredibly heavy bookcase. The blueprints were done wrong as a distraction, and Kaz had cursed himself over not realising it. So it had taken a while to actually get on the safe.

Footsteps were heard from the right, and Jesper's hand immediately went to his other gun. A few guards bickered about something, and Kaz halted his movements upon hearing that too. Jesper met his eyes, and he nodded towards the guards. Jesper started making his way towards them and you glanced at Kaz who started working on the safe again.

You hadn't known what was happening before you already felt a blade on your throat.

"Don't move, bitch," said a voice behind you. His breath had a bitter scent of garlic and you scrunched your nose at it.

The man with the knife pressed hard enough to cut your skin but didn't draw blood yet. A thought of him killing you and going after Kaz next crossed your mind, an d that thought made your heart start racing faster and adrenaline kicking in.

You knew it was stupid. Irresponsible. You should wait for Kaz to deal with it, he by no doubt was already thinking what to do to save you. But you weren't a lady in distress, you refused to be.

So you stomped on his foot with all your might and when he grunted, you elbowed his jaw. The knife made a scratch on your face and you heard something shattering - probably a vase on the drawer next to you. You started giving punches to the brute until he laid on the ground unconscious, and then turned back around to see all your friends gathered there to see what's the noise about. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing they were all alright and walked up to them as you tried to catch your breath. You didn't pay attention to it at first, but then you noticed that they were staring at you.

"What?" you asked, frowning.

"Darling, your mask..." Kaz mumbled, looking over at the shattered piece of art you had been wearing for the past half a decade.

Your heart stopped for a moment.

"Oh," you whispered and suddenly felt self-conscious as you turned away from your friends. Your cheeks burned like hellfire, even though nobody was saying anything about how you looked ugly underneath this disguise. Though, they had probably stared because they didn't recognize you at first, not because of how you looked. But it still felt like the latter option, and the echoes of what the kids in your neighborhood had been saying to you when you were growing up.

"Okay, we got what we came here for, escaping through the third back door." Kaz interrupted the moment and everyone started moving out, leaving Kaz and you standing there to come as last ones.

You walked in silence side by side with Kaz, looking behind the shattered mask - its shards glinting in the moonlight as if to wave its goodbye to you. You felt like a part of you had just been ripped away, and you couldn't help but feel tears in your eyes. The whole thing happened so fast, that none of it registered until that point. Then it was too late.

You could feel the slight night breeze caressing through your face once you were outside in front of the carriage, something you hadn't experienced in years. It felt so foreign now - but somehow also comforting.

You stood there for a moment before Nina spoke.

"Hey, we don't care how you look. We still love you the same."

You closed your eyes against the sudden wetness on your cheek and nodded, sniffling. "I know."

"Hey," Jesper said. He walked up next to you and handed you a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Thanks," you sniffed and wiped at your tears.

Jesper cleared his throat. "It's weird to see you without that mask. You're not ugly, you know. Not really."

You looked down at the cloth in your hands and gave a watery laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've always been ugly."

"No, you aren't. This is what beauty feels like. This is what real beauty would be like."

"Oh," you said softly, biting back more tears.

He glanced at Kaz who was looking at you with something looking like concern. "Kaz is lucky to have you, you know."

You couldn't help but smile a little at that, and everyone started to board the carriage, Jesper being the driver and standing beside the door.

Jesper smirked as he helped you board the carriage, "I know what we just said but just a suggestion, love; you should consider being a model, we could pull out pretty neat heists if you went on a modeling show with rich pigs and turned over their pockets."

You couldn't help but smile at the suggestion - maybe you could finally get rid of the feeling of insecurity you had felt since you were a child.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[stariekis]

birthday boy.

pairing : non idol!jungwon + fem!reader . genre : fluff + suggestive . cw : kissing . wc : 2.9 k not proofread

— synopsis : celebrating his birthday with the people he loves the most ! with a tiny twist ...

— note : HAPPY WONI DAY!!! my brightest star ⭐🤲🏻 i love him so much pls he is everything to me ˙◠˙ hope he has an amazing day today and hope you guys like this one shot <3

He was having the most awful day ever. Even though it was his birthday he had to spend the whole day at the company alone and, on top of that, you and his members haven't talked to him for the whole day.

He wasn't really upset about his group mates but he felt pretty sad when he realized that you didn't texted him.

He didn't want nothing more than to come back home and spend some time for himself, being able to enjoy his 20 birthday and rest after such a tiring and kind of sad day was all he needed.

He finished all his duties at the company and finally it was time to go back home. Tiredness taking over his body as soon as he step on the van, almost falling asleep as soon as he sat on his seat.

Once he finally reached the entrance of his (and your) apartment he let out the biggest sigh, he needs to take a shower and lay on his bed as soon as possible.

But as he inserted his key to open the door he heard someone whispering inside os his apartment. He was confused, all the members where at their respective houses and you probably were sleeping. Or that's what he thought.

Finally opening the door completely he was shock when he made eye contact with the seven of you, his bearest best friends and his pretty girlfriend standing in front of him with balloons and a cake on your hands.

— 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG BOY' shouted jake as jungwon dropped his belongings on the entrance and take off his shoes. Heeseung took the cake out of your hands as he watches Jungwon running towards you with his arms open.

You giggled as he hugged you, hiding his face on your neck leaving small soft kisses there.

— 'The surprise was also our idea you know?' said Sunghoon with a smirk on his face. All of you burst out laughing, Jungwon removed himself from your embrace pecking your lips before turning to his friends, giving them a big hug.

All of you moved to your living room to get the party started. After blowing the candles you gave him your present, he loves matching things with you so you gave him a pair of rings; one was a sun and the other one was a moon. He looked at you with the biggest smile on his face and, taking your hand, he place the sun one on your finger kissing your hand right after.

The hours kept passing and, after opening all the presents and having dinner together you guys decided to call it a night and the boys went back home.

As soon as you close the door you felt a pair of arms sneaking around you waist, hugging you from behind. — 'Thank you so much for this baby, i was having the worst day ever but its was completely worth it' Jungwon whispered in your ear.

You turned around now facing him, placing you hands around his neck you gave him a kiss. — 'Sorry for ignoring you Wonie, i was really busy preparing all of this that i didn't have time to text you' you said. He place one of his hand on your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

— 'You still have time to repay me for that ' the tone of his voice dropped a few times and now there was a smirk adorning his pretty lips.

You smiled, knowing perfectly what he meant with that. As much as you loved the boys you couldn't wait for them to be gone so you would be able to spend some time with your boyfriend. — 'Now that you mentioned it i actually have another present for you' you kissed him, this time the kiss was much intense that the other ones you shared, hearing him breathing through his nose and melting in your arms as soon as your lips touched his.

Your hands that once were around his neck were now grabbing the strings of his grey hoodie. You separate yourself from him and, pulling him by his collar, you started walking towards your shared bedroom.

Let's say he had the best birthday of his life.

[deathbxnny]

So, this is another addition to our Arlecchino x Wife!Fem!Reader series, and I had to make a separate post from the ask due to formatting issues. You can see the inspo of said post HERE, tho!

Thank you otherwise to our dear X Anon for another great request, and I hope this is to your liking!!<33

(Also, sorry this took 5 years to make X Anon... life hates me-)

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part five)

Content: Female reader, fluff, slight angst, established relationship, actually wholesome for once!

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

((Not proofread))

Sweet strawberry cakes and stitched together teddy bears. (Arlecchino x Fem!Reader)

You only vividly remember the last time you celebrated your birthday. You had just turned sixteen, and whilst no one usually ever put much importance on this day for you, Peruere and Clervie always did. You recall the pink haired girl approaching you in the darkness of your room as she crawled into bed with you carefully. Peruere stood at the door, unmoving and still, but she was there. Just for you.

Placing a clumsily made cake onto your lap, Clervie leaned her head against yours, her voice quiet and hushed in fear of being heard. "Happy birthday." She whispered into your ear, and it meant the world to you. Peruere delicately held a small gift in her clawed hands, her emotionless face partially illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window. It was a teddy bear they had made themselves, or maybe Clervie stitched it together whilst your wife found it's pieces. Either way, it was lost to time eventually, just like your dearest friend was.

Now, many years later and far away from the past that still haunts you, you forbade Arlecchino to ever mention that day again. Or, well, you never had to say anything. Both of your birthdays meant nothing to you after your previous "mother's" fall and so, you took your rebirths into your own hands.

Your past life wasn't a part of you here.

But on this day, in which you are forever reminded of your mere mortality and the fact that many of your companions never got older than the last birthday you remembered, you find yourself rather somber, even more than usual at that. And despite your wish to forget about it, your wife still acknowledged it with a kiss on your wrist in the morning. You felt bitter every time she did so, even of you knew she meant well.

Thankfully, however, this day would usually pass every year without anyone even thinking about it being your birthday. You often forget it yourself, too, anyway.

But today felt... different.

Perhaps it was the way Arlecchino's gaze seemed sharper and more focused even in the home, or the way Freminet was practically sweating buckets as he asked you to come along with him and his other two siblings for a "short" outing. But you could tell something was off.

"... You want to go run errands with me?" The question was asked carefully, yet the three siblings could immideatly tell that you were suspicious. It wasn't often that you left the home and everyone knew that you would rather not if you could help it. You were always worried about everyone's well-being, considering your past and its hardships. So your son's request was definitely quite odd. They usually never bothered to ask unless the errand runs were absolutely necessary. And you couldn't necessarily remember anything out of the ordinary happening this week either.

Lyney gave you a sly smile as he pressed a hand against your back and practically pushed you towards the front door with a tip of his hat. "Yes indeed, mother! Now let's get going before the bread at the baker sells out for the day!" He chimed as happily as always, yet that just earned him a raise of a brow from both you and Lynette for similar reasons. It was 12 pm... the bread had most definitely run out by now.

Deciding not to question it, you concluded that they may have just wanted to spend time with you outside. Fair enough, you supposed that you could grant them a small outing. Surely everyone will be fine for an hour or two. Arlecchino just gave you and the three siblings a silent nod in approval from her seat in the kitchen as she flipped through her paperwork with mild interest. The Father of the Hearth house being home certainly quelled your worries as you finally allowed Lyney to drag you out with no further complaints.

--

The streets were rather busy at this time of the day. You usually stayed clear around these hours and preferred to go out at night if there was ever the need for it. But Lyney was ever so determined to complete this errand run and if it was the last thing he did. Lynette had yet to say a word about it, whilst Freminet clinged to your side, often glancing at his pocket watch in near worry for a reason you couldn't figure out.

"Lyney, child... are you sure this is absolutely necessary?" You asked just as you were about to reach the bakery. "Ofcourse! We just ran out of bread after all... and you know how the younger kids get about that, mother." That was a flat-out lie, you noted swiftly. You were pretty sure that you had more than enough at home. But once again, you didn't say anything more. Perhaps they really did want to just spend time with you... but why couldn't they just say that outright?

As expected, however, the baker not only had no bread left but had closed shop early too. Lynette gave her sweating brother a deadpan, as he clearly was trying to come up with an excuse. One glance at Freminet, who was quickly shaking his head behind you whilst holding up his watch, made it clear that they couldn't turn around yet. They doubted that everyone was done setting everything up and needed to buy time. But you were always so hard-headed when it came to spending too much time away from the house. So what should they do now?

Clearing his throat, Lyney turned to you with a strained smile. "Ah! My, my... quite the bad luck, right? No matter, we still have other things on the list we can get for todays dinner!" Your brows furrowed at that. You don't recall even mentioning what you'd make today to anyone yet. Lynette swiftly elbowed her brother in the ribs knowingly whilst you were deep in thought, which made the man quickly straighten up and take off his hat. "Oh ah! Because we wanted to cook today! Together!" "... You've never done that before." "Ahahaha... you're so funny, mother! Now let's get going before the other shops close too!" He quickly grabbed onto your arm and pulled you along, his head turning to give his other two siblings a silent nod to proceed with their plans.

Since the two were trailing after the both of you, they were quick to pick up any small gifts when you weren't looking. They already had plenty for you at home, but with you watching everyone intensely every day, hiding anything from you was near impossible. It was a blessing and curse alike, yet you taught them well as they began practically hoarding anything they found under their clothes or making them disappear through some little magic tricks. Freminet was shaking like a leaf throughout all of this, yet hoped you didn't notice it too much.

Thankfully, you were more preoccupied with your oldest son dragging you around for his imaginary ingredient list that you were by now convinced didn't even exist. The more time went by, the more anxious and irritated you became. Sure, you appreciated that they wanted to go out with you, but unfortunately, your excellent perception was beginning to make you restless. You just wanted to get home already and resume your schedule with the other children.

"Okay, next up is-" "-Lyney, enough of this boy. Let's head home." You said as the setting sun bathed the world around you in its last sun rays. Freminet hid behind Lynette at the finality in your voice, which made it clear that you were very much done with their games. They knew that you were catching on and that hiding everything from you was impossible. It was truly impressive yet expected from the Mother of the House of Hearth.

Said young man gave you his usual smile, yet you could tell how nervous he was. "But Mother-" "-I'm unsure of what you're doing, all three of you." You began as you crossed your arms with a frown. "And I appreciate it if all you want is to just spend time with me. I really do. But you can also just say that, children. I know how busy your father and I can get, so I can understand... but you also have to also understand, that I have alot to do at home and can't stay out for long." You gently scolded the three, who just glanced at eachother in response. Well, this was not necessarily their goal... but it did hold you up for longer anyway!

After your lecture, you dragged the three back home. You were very tired from the outing, and whilst you found it nice to leave the house for a bit, today just felt so awfully wrong for you. Stepping into the dark and silent house, however, you couldn't help but freeze. The house of Hearth was never silent. It was always moving one way or another, even into the late hours of the night. It never laid still, never truly slept. Your anxiety shot through the roof, as many possibilities ran through your mind at once. Years and years of loss, torture, and pain always made you fear for the worst in moments like these.

Yet when you quickly rounded the corner to the grand living room in absolute terror and worry, the lights suddenly came on and a deafening yell of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOTHER!" rang through the vast house. Confetti flew into the air, and you blinked in surprise, as the three siblings, including the rest of the children and even your wife, stood in front of you around a large table filled with a beautiful cake and plenty of endless gifts. You opened your mouth in surprise, yet were left speechless in shock, as the fear melted away in relief.

Suddenly, everything made sense, and you nearly felt proud that your children were able to sneak past you and organize such a grand party... but only nearly. A sob suddenly shook your body as you pressed a hand against your mouth. That was definitely too much for your heart to handle. Everyone stopped for a moment, realising that they maybe had gone too far, yet Arlecchino approaching you made them all relax again.

She took hold of your hands and wiped away your tears with her claws so delicately. "My apologies. We may have gone overboard." The party wasn't necessarily her idea, nor did she truly understand its purpose, but she had hoped that it would bring you some joy on a day that had been soured forever. And thankfully, when you gave her a weak smile, she was glad to learn that it indeed had done exactly that. "No, I... am just very happy. That's all." It was a partial lie. But it melted into the truth when you looked at all of your happy children in your home. You had made it so far in life. Who would've ever thought that you would ever find yourself happy on this accursed day? "However, give me another heart attack like this one, and I am kicking you all out for a day." You huffed, making everyone giggle before dragging you over to the table to celebrate.

Arlecchino calmly watched you from afar, her gaze calm and gentle. Especially when you opened your wife's gift to find a certain teddy bear in it that instantly moved you to tears once more. You met her eye, an expression on your face she understood well.

You both hoped Clervie was celebrating with you from above, just like she always would.

[shirefantasies]

hello there!! i've been reading your works for a while and they're adorable, i love them so much ;A;

it's actually my birthday today! if it's not too much trouble, could you write the Fellowship (plus Arwen and Eowyn if you'd like <3) and how each of them would spend reader's birthday with them?

if not, then that's okay! hope you have a great day and once again i love your writing :D

Happy belated birthday anon! This is a cute idea 😄

REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED! This is a very old request I’m just getting around to posting.

Warnings: a bit suggestive at times

How LoTR Characters Spend Your Birthday With You

Aragorn

He is not exactly the biggest party person, so unless you are your celebration will be smaller, more intimate. You’ll be woken with the gentlest kiss and a whispered blessing. Whatever you command, Aragorn teases, he is yours…. Beyond that, he is his typical attentive self, cooking your favorite meal for you and laying it out beautifully as he can. Candles, flowers, you name it and he has found it. All day the words pass his lips that the world is all the richer for your entry into it, that he considers you a blessing every day of his life. So much so, in fact, he’ll even tolerate you smashing some cake on him if you feel a bit giddy that night! Shaking his head, he just smiles and laughs it off. It is your birthday, after all, and he is plenty used to the old antics of his friends!

Legolas

You expect a surprise, ironically, knowing Legolas’s air of teasing mystery, and sure enough he whisks you away nearly as soon as he can. Any questioning fails utterly, but at least you get to see Legolas’s dark eyes glitter with mischief as he tells you you’ll see. In the end you’re taken to a little paradise all your own, a treetop canopy with a scenic view. “And of course you have your cake,” he teases, remembering how important it was to you. You’re still in awe of the view, jaw slack at the horizon of endless green blending into the blue sky with its sparse puffs of cloud. It’s amazing, utterly so and you tell him, but the woodland prince insists that the most amazing part of this all is you. Your birth, your entry into the world those years ago, means more to him than he can ever truly convey.

Boromir

Such ambition! Boromir asks you to describe your dream day and vows to give it to you. Taking a boat ride? He’ll find a way. Having a joust? He would be honored to be your partner. A party with your friends? Simply give him the notice and he will invite them all to a grand event! He understands that cake is traditional so he commissions the best of his father’s bakers for yours. All the while of the merriment Boromir’s arm is slung about your waist, his eyes and grin loving as they fix firmly upon you. You may have to restrain him, for he’ll want to hoist your arm up and call out your praises in front of everybody! He definitely tries to be understanding if these ideas make you anxious, however, toning down the party in his mind to a candlelit dinner for two. Hm, yes, perhaps some romance would be a good way to spend your birthday after all….

Gimli

Pretends he forgot. His jaw drops, lips widening into an o shape as he asks oh, was that today? Today of all days? …Followed immediately by mischievous he-he-hes of laughter as he reaches into some pocket or another and pulls out a box. “I jest, of course? You think I would forget the most important of days, the birth of my fairest One? Not in the slightest! Go on, open it up!” Inside is none other than a piece of your favorite type of jewelry, clearly handmade and beautifully custom crafted. Gimli made it himself of course, not a single other dwarf laying a hand on it. “Just like you,” he jokes as you embrace and pull his lips into yours. As far as any other celebration of course he wants to scream it from the hills and drink and dance the night away with you, but if you want no fanfare Gimli will simply walk with you anywhere you go, still telling everyone it’s your birthday, before taking you home for a more private celebration. Hopefully still some drinks and dancing, even if it’s just you two. And something else? Well, he would give you everything you want on your special day, just ask and he is yours…

Frodo

You’ll awake to a pair of the most loving blue eyes you’ve ever seen upon you. Soon as he knows you’ve risen, Frodo reaches over to caress your face, a smile creeping onto his lips before he kisses your forehead. “Good morning, my love. How would you like to spend your day?” Anything you request within reason will be yours. The weather cooperates, luckily, so if you wish to take a walk on the edges of the Shire or take to the market opportunity is availed to you. Frodo will organize a party if you wish it, inviting only your closest friends and family and hoping he’ll be your only dance partner for the evening! Encourages you to be the one to cut your cake, nodding eagerly towards it with a big smile. He spent ages on your gift, a hand-illustrated and bound volume of your favorite story he made with his uncle Bilbo.

Sam

Spends a whole day making your cake himself. It has to be perfect, your favorite flavor and lots of edible flowers to make it pretty! Sam is very sweet with you, absolutely doting on you all day and insisting you don’t lift a finger. Even going so far as to romantically carry you over thresholds if he can. The most loving eyes fall onto you as he asks what you want to do, flushing if you make any more scandalous suggestions and agreeing eagerly, readying himself to pull off the bed and onto your next adventure. It’s the end of the night, naturally, when he insists on cutting you a big slice of your cake and showering you with gifts ranging from flowers to a new one of your favorite comfort items to a special piece of craftsmanship from his elven friends! Party or no, Sam will share a lantern-lit dance with you that night and will be telling you how much he loves you and is grateful you were born all day!

Merry

The type to suggest celebrating on your birthday, if you catch his drift. Loves your eager reaction or if you smack him and tease back, both is good. Morning or evening, he won’t be picky! But in all seriousness, this calls for a celebration and by the stars you are getting one! Merry will have the whole of the Green Dragon singing your praises and wishing you well that night, not to mention being ready with a cake and a hearty meal! All day he’s walking around with the proudest smile and a hand around your waist. His gift to you is the perfect mix of pretty and practical, a gorgeously embroidered coat with bejeweled buttons that had to have cost a lot, but he assures you it’s worth it with a kiss to your forehead and another happy birthday.

Pippin

Writes it down so he doesn’t forget what day it is, then sets himself to work planning you a party! If you don’t like large events then instead of a massive Shire celebration he’ll throw something in your yard or the Tooks will rent out the Green Dragon for a night with all your friends. During the day, though? Pippin refuses to share you, no sir. All his attention is on you from the moment he surprises you with a big breakfast to when he sets aside the dishes. Even getting ready for the day he’ll pamper you, running you a bath and jumping in with you too of course! A picnic lunch in a field of waving wildflowers, lots of shared kisses beneath the sun, and a bouquet hand-picked just for you await! Tells anyone who runs across you that it’s his beloved’s birthday, you know. Your favorite gift this year is a scarf, one quite similar to Pippin’s but in your favorite color instead, the one you wear most. He had his mother make it for you just like the cake! Warning: Pippin will want to hand-feed you some cake and may see about smashing just a teensy bit up by your nose. If you really hate that he won’t, but if you retaliate? Well, your cake fight may turn into another bath for you two and then who knows from there…

Faramir

His brother was always the better one at this, an internal voice tells Faramir, but that makes it all the more exciting, especially because Boromir is happy to help him execute his plan! You are completely unsuspecting of the brothers’s scheme as you pry open the doors to the chamber Faramir asked you to meet him in, lops parting widely in shock at the crowd awaiting you. They all wish you a happy birthday as one, just as your family did for you in your youth. Tears fill your eyes at the sight of the gathering, but you are quickly swept into Faramir’s loving arms. He doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night, either.

Eomer

Good luck getting out of bed that morning! Eomer will be upon you from the moment you arise, showering you with affection and ministrations of your every need and desire. He insists he can even do the cooking, which he does not usually undertake, but when you finally do arise for a meal you find quite a hearty selection awaiting you. From there Eomer takes you out for a ride, insisting you share a horse so he can hold you close and keep you blindfolded- no need to ruin the surprise so early, hm? You feel the incline before you see it, obviously, but after your mount slows Eomer lifts you up and sets you down to restore your sight. The fabric drops to reveal a flowered hill and a gorgeous view of the blue sky, both of which pale in comparison to the sight of Eomer knelt before you, telling you your birthday is a day of new beginnings. Asking then if you’ll grant him the new beginning of a married life with him?

Eowyn

Bless her soul, she makes you a cake. You can imagine how that goes. Looking at it with trepidation, you eagerly pull her to your day’s activities, saving that for the end of the night anyway. Rather, your focus is on the freedom you have to celebrate, taking a ride just to feel the wind in your hair and laugh with abandon at Eowyn’s side. Nearing your ride’s end she lays down a blanket and carries you down upon it, unpacking a meal for you to share as you watch the sunset. You will celebrate with friends and family, certainly, but this day is for you two. Laughter ensues further as you both choke on the cake, agreeing it’s no good but you assure her you love that she made it nonetheless, tackling her down upon the spread fabric with teasing, affectionate kisses. Giggling, she practically peels you off to give you your gift: a sword emblazoned with the Riddermark’s most gorgeous flowers.

Haldir

Haldir was never one to celebrate birthdays. It just never occurred to him to do anything beyond well wishes. So imagine his surprise when you began pondering what kind of cake you’ll make, if your elven neighbors would come for a party. Party? Of course, you say? Raucous celebrations were more characteristic of those in Mirkwood, but for you, Haldir realized with a smile the next time you were in his arms, he would lace up his dancing shoes. Insisting on handling the cake, he enlists Lothlórien’s finest baker, the one who crafts for Galadriel herself, to make you a gorgeous dessert that sits at your celebration’s center. He lets you teach him a dance or two and performs one you both know, letting loose and even just laughing in simple joy. Your gift is his favorite part of the evening, a mantle crafted of the strongest material that will keep you safe and looking beautiful as you always do in his eyes.

Galadriel

Oh, you are going to be pampered. The most beautiful sunlight kissing your skin as Galadriel whispers good morning, caressing your cheek and pulling you into her lips. Spending the morning exactly how she knows you like before treating you to a day of luxury. Healing massages for you both, a ride upon Lothlórien’s boats until you moor at the base of a great waterfall, the power of your love’s ring parting the waterfall as she beckons you into a wonderfully dry and decorated hollow. Therein you share a meal and each other’s company, whispered words of how much you mean to each other and all your desires shared before you are gifted a necklace bearing the great works and designs of Lórien- but most importantly engravings of Galadriel’s love for you hidden beneath the metal swirling around its white stone.

Elrond

Having a complicated family history himself, Elrond takes the task upon his own shoulders to show others compassion, comfort, and most of all senses of belonging and being loved. Of course this extends to your birthday! He wishes you well from the first and tells you what a blessing you are, how you surprise him with your strength and warm him with your smile every day. And do not doubt that you’ll be treated to the most luxurious of baths and Elrond washing and styling your hair for you. Following that is an afternoon lavished with gifts, jewelry and art and all you could ask for. That night, Elrond brings you up to the highest point in all of Rivendell to stargaze and so he can hold you and sway with you beneath the lights that looked down upon and symbolized his ancestors.

Arwen

Unless you specifically request the opposite, she’ll steal you away completely. Gone are you from the many eyes which could fall upon you, gone far off hand in hand with your beloved. Riding away to a secluded hollow where you and Arwen can be free, be yourselves. Lay in each other’s arms, weave flowers in each other’s hair, and flush joyfully and bashfully when she reaches up to feed you by hand, her own face a playful grin. Each kiss she gives you is deep, languid, intent, her hands falling to you as if to hold you there forever, but you mind not being bewitched so by her. Whispers of how grateful she is for your birth shared between your lips until they are joined again. Arwen’s gift to you is a ring, one that bears words of her own writing within its band. My love for all time.

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[solarmorrigan]

Romance, Commitment, and Cake

For the @steddie-spooktober day 15 prompt: Baking Rated: T | Words: 733 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Steve Harrington can cook, or bake at least, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie has always loved fall. He loves the way the world turns colors as the leaves begin to change, he loves how it gets cooler and he can wear his layers of jackets without feeling like he wants to die, he loves all the poetic themes of death and change, he loves Halloween. In more recent years, however, he’s learned to love fall because that’s when Steve starts baking like a man possessed, and doesn’t stop until the new year.

He doesn’t bother holding in the moan that wants to work its way out at the first bite of the pumpkin cheesecake Steve has presented him with. It’s perfect; creamy and light, the sweet and the spice blending and melting on his tongue. Eddie thinks he might actually need a moment alone with the cheesecake.

“Good?” Steve asks with a knowing little grin as he washes bowls in the sink.

“Marry me,” Eddie groans the moment he’s swallowed his mouthful.

Steve snorts out a little laugh. “We’re already married,” he reminds Eddie, holding up his sudsy left hand to show off the gold wedding band glinting there.

“This time it would be different,” Eddie says, taking a moment to get in another bite of cheesecake. “Last time I married you because you’re sweet, and you’re sharp, and you’re funny, and you’re beautiful, and because I love you. This time I’d be marrying you for your baking.”

“Man, don’t be shy, tell it to me like it is,” Steve says drily, but there’s a pleased, pink flush high on his cheeks.

“Just being honest with you, baby,” Eddie says with a grin before tucking back into his slice of cake.

“You know,” Steve says slowly, eyes trained on the dishes in the sink, “our anniversary is coming up. Five years.”

“Mhm?” Eddie hums around another mouthful.

“We can’t get married again, but we could… renew our vows, maybe.” There’s such a studied nonchalance to the suggestion that Eddie wonders if Steve hadn’t already been thinking about it.

And it’s a little funny that the idea of holding another ceremony, of putting on a suit and standing up and pouring his heart out in front of a group of people, of spending the day trading pleasantries and pretending to be at least halfway civil only produces happy little butterflies instead of the disdain it once would have.

Eddie had never gone in for romantic conformity, never thought marriage as a social convention was worth shit. He’d scorned the idea of perfect little white weddings, of the elitism and the privilege and the inherent heteronormativity. Marriage was a trumped-up gimmick made to sell needlessly expensive things to gullible couples with more money than sense.

And then he’d met Steve.

Steve, who had rocked the foundation of Eddie’s way of looking at the world; Steve, who Eddie loves more than anything; Steve, who loves romance, even if he won’t say as much out loud; Steve, who Eddie had proposed to, because he’d wanted to claim him and show him off to the world in as many ways as possible, wanted everyone to know that no matter which way they look at it that Steve is with him.

“It doesn’t have to be a big thing,” Steve says when Eddie’s been quiet a moment too long. “We could just have a small party; family and friends.” He gives Eddie a sidelong glance. “I could make a cake.”

“A cake, huh?” Eddie asks, biting down on a sly smile as he puts his empty plate down on the counter and sidles up to Steve at the sink. “What kind of cake?”

“Any kind of cake you want,” Steve says, looking back up at Eddie with eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re marrying me for my baking, after all. Only seems right you should choose.”

Eddie hums, moving around behind Steve and wrapping his arms around his waist. “You’ve convinced me, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crook of Steve’s neck. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve cranes his head around to look at Eddie, showing off the luminous smile lighting his face.

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie says, leaning into Steve a little further. “Lemme tell everyone how much I love you all over again.”

The way Steve practically melts against Eddie is worth all the pomp and ceremony in the world, Eddie thinks.

(But the promise of cake doesn’t hurt.)

[sschizoid]

Hello! Saw you were taking requests, how about the Tulpar crew going to an amusement/theme park together? Could be Disney or literally any theme park. Thank you 😊

whoosh! your wishes are my commands, anons !! (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

--

curly

he brought sunscreen and you can bet your ass he's going to remind everyone to reapply every two hours

can get motion sick pretty easily, so he tries to stick to the tamer rides. the ferris wheel is definitely his favorite, though he still feels his stomach churn each rotation. the view from the top is worth it

saw a stand where someone was doing caricature drawings and thought it sounded really fun. sat for a good 10 minutes while the artist worked before being handed the result and felt his heart drop. smiles and thanks the man, but spends the rest of the day looking for reassurance from his peers. "haha, oh man. this drawing is crazy, right? my nose is just... so big. like, almost a little too big, don't you think? ahah, it's... it's waaaay too big, right?"

jimmy

carnivals and amusement parks are actually pretty nostalgic for him. he wasn't super well-off growing up, no vacations or family trips or anything. but the carnival? it was close by, easy to sneak into, and not super difficult to find lost tickets littering the ground

especially skilled at tent games. balloon darts, ring toss, you name it. he's extremely competitive and let's the carnies know that he knows their shitty little tricks when it comes to sabotaging gameplay, and if they try anything on him, he's gonna make them real fucking sorry

shamelessly pays $12 for a solo cup of beer and fried cheese curds

anya

she loves amusement parks. as a child, she found herself drawn to the more extravagant rides, but now finds comfort in the simpler ones. she particularly enjoys the mirror maze and carousel

one of her weaknesses is funnel cake. specifically the kind with powered sugar, chocolate drizzle, and strawberries. she promises herself she'll only have a few bites, but that's not happening. she's eating the whole thing in under 3 minutes

constantly getting sucked into those games where the carnies goad and howl at you. she'll brush it off and laugh awkwardly at first, trying to skirt past, but if a dunk tank heckler teases her one too many times, she's gonna throw balls at that button until she's either broke or he treads water. whatever comes first

swansea

he's too old for this shit. he tags along, but just kind of hangs on to everyone else's stuff while they do their own thing

...well, that's how things started, at least. after he warms up to the environment a bit, he's not gonna be opposed to having a little fun, but not too much. he asks the woman at the face-painting stand to give him a bit of flourish, but nothing too crazy. she turns him into a tiger

daisuke will pressure him into trying bumper cars, but of course the fucking car he's assigned doesn't want to work. he just sits there with his chin in his hands waiting for it to be over while a bunch of kids ram into him from all angles laughing their asses off. daisuke is no better than them and joins in. he thinks its hilarious

daisuke

total thrill-seeker, the ricketier, the better. especially fond of the ones that make your stomach drop and your eyes bulge. think drop towers, pendulums, and zippers.

if there's a haunted house, he's gonna be really obnoxious during tense and quiet moments, letting out a sharp gasp and making everyone around him jump. he does this at least 3 times before getting a taste of his own medicine when a scare actor sneaks up behind him and screams. bro is shook to his core after that

absolute master at the tilt-a-whirl. has his rotations and leans down to a science, no matter how much weight is in the car, and will keep the cab spinning the entire time. god help anyone who is partnered with him

--

such a good and fun idea it was asked for twice! tysm! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

[mrsnancywheeler]

the river (6) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter

masterlist

7.1k words

warnings: hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff, arguments, a wedding, pnv, unprotected sex, f receiving fingering, he doesn't pull out, cursing, allusions to trafficking, paranoia, violence, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, self-hate, dount, mentions of pregnancy but she's not pregnant, distrust, brainwashing, mentions of Snow, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You looked so beautiful, so angelic, so unspeakably alluring standing in front of him in your borrowed dress. Never had he felt more excited than when he'd realized this was in fact the day you would become not just his wife in spirit, but legally, Mrs. Odair. The way you'd so delicately smiled up at him made him feel like his grin was more like that of a mad man, and maybe he was. Madly in love, madly obsessed, madly in need to spend the rest of his life with you. He needed the revolution to be over so he could have a billion kids that looked just like you, that laughed like you did, and smiled like you did. How soft your fingers felt when they brushed his lips with salt water was addicting just as it was when his fingers did the same to your lips. He felt blindly dazed by your smile as you recited the vows, Finnick barely remembered that there were cameras around.

Your genuine happiness was something he had come to miss, yet here it was once again. The feeling that made all the rough times worth weathering the storm, how unequivocally enamored of you he was with each smile and sweet word. Your sugary repetition of what the officiant said eventually waned, Coin had insisted on less flowery vows to keep the event concise, but that was okay because he'd spilled his heart before. It also helped that now he wasn't sure he'd be able to form any coherent proclamations of love when looking at you put him into a stupor.

“I, Finnick Odair, take you as my wife from this day forward. Together or apart, we will always be united. One life, one purpose, one destiny.” He'd never get sick of the way you were looking at him right now, like that same girl from the market that he'd approached all those years ago who was joyously stunned that Finnick Odair would even talk to her.

“You may kiss the bride." The officiant announced and Finnick had never been more pleased for his lips to touch yours. The salty and peachy taste that lingered on your lips that he adored, compounded with the sound of the children's choir beginning to sing, a confirmation that his official voyage with you had really begun. Ever so slowly he pulled away to gaze at you further.

“Hi." You whispered softly through your perfect smile.

“We're married." He whispered back, the giddy smile almost hurt, but he couldn't make himself stop. “Like actually married."

You nodded with a light laugh, "Yeah, we are!” The words left you so breathily before you'd kissed him once again and he wanted to drown in your lips. His mind seemed to echo the same words over and over again, a never ending stream. She's actually my wife. She's so happy and pretty and my wife. My wife. The way you danced and laughed was exhilarating, this was the you that the Capitol had chipped away at making a glorious appearance. You could have another breakdown tomorrow, but right now you shone brighter than the sun and it was all that mattered. It wasn't home, there was no sea breeze in the air, there had been no net to cover you both, or sending the couple off in a boat at the end for farewells. It wasn't even the spring time wedding you'd once whispered about on late nights, but it seemingly was exactly what you both needed.

Your feet had only stopped moving once the cake was rolled out, glorious in its waves of blue frosting. It truly left him amazed in the attention to detail of each sea creature so delicately placed. “Oh, it's perfect." You muttered, squeezing his hand.

Finnick nodded in agreement, “It's amazing." It was the closest to home as either of you could get, he ached to be able to know he'd be carrying you over the threshold of a tiny cottage by the sea, but he couldn't until this was all over. Until they'd won. So the cake would have to be sufficient enough and in the joy, it was. Especially when you so carefully fed him a bite of it, blue staining his teeth as he took the bite. Before the blue and green had just as equally begun to stain your lips when he did the same, and it made him feel so young again. A kid who'd eaten too many colored sweets.

Eventually the propo had to come to an end and with it, the fun and dancing. But his happiness didn't subside, even if it was no traditional reception of dancing all night, at least he could carry you through the door of the compartment and be with you for eternity.

“Hello, Mrs. Odair." He'd whispered after carefully placing you on the floor of the shared room.

“Hello, Mr. Odair." You responded absentmindedly, eyes so loving as your fingers played with his hair.

“We're actually married, officially married, forever and ever and ever."

“Yeah." You glowed, all of you was so bright. “Don't get cold feet on me now."

"Never.” He affirmed, kissing you again.

"Good because I'm rather attached.” He smirked and quickly pulled you back into his lips. Slowly, but surely your lips attacked him more feverishly, with more passion. It had been so long, but it was a feeling he missed so much, until your fingers had slidden down to the buttons of his jacket, where some sort of panic permeated his happiness. He longed for you more than he'd even let himself ponder, but he couldn't risk it when you were still at risk of a meltdown at any turn. So reluctantly he pulled away.

“Angel, what are you doing?"

He missed the cooling feeling of your skin the moment you pulled contact away and hated how embarrassed you suddenly looked. “I'm sorry, I should have asked, Finnick. If you don't want to, I won't.”

His hands reached out to assure you otherwise and caress the side of your head. “No, no, sweet girl, that's not it. You're all good."

For a moment you seemed relieved before the confusion seemed to settle back in. “Then what's wrong?” Finnick sighed, how could he tell you he was terrified that you'd have a mid-thrust mental breakdown that threw you into some kind of terrified hysteria? He sat down on the bed, preparing himself for the hole he was digging himself into. At the very least, talking to you about it now was leagues better than going along until you cracked.

“Honey, I just don't think it's a good idea."

“Oh, okay." Shit. He always ruined everything. You'd been so open and happy all day only for your voice to slightly break with a speck of insecurity. You were so sweet with the way you'd move on to pretend it didn't upset you somewhat and find something else to do.

“Not because I don't want you, trust me I do." The words tumbled out of his mouth as fast as he could form them to try and reassure you.

“If you want to, then what's stopping us? I do too."

"Honey, come here.” He patted down on the bed and you sat, carefully he grabbed your hands, hoping his warmth would provide some sort of comfort. “I just think maybe we should wait until you're feeling like there's less of a chance that you'll get scared when we're in the middle of something.

"I'm not gonna get scared, Finn, I want this.”

"You're not right now, but say you get hit with those thoughts that say I want you dead, which I don't, and I'm on top of you. That'd be scary for you.”

"I haven't had an episode for a couple weeks.” Your head turned to stare at the wall in front of you.

"You haven't had a major one and I'm so proud of you for that, but you've had some small ones. I don't want one getting bigger because of the circumstances.” Your hands pulled away from his, covering your face where stray tears must have begun to fall. “Hey, no, don't cry. I'm just trying to look out for you."

“I make everything so difficult, I'm sorry."

“No you don't, it's all okay."

Quiet sniffles filled the room before you laid your hands back down on your lap to look at him. “Finnick, I get you're worried about me and I love that about you. But I could freak out waking up in the middle of the night or when we're just cuddling. I want this, I want you, and if the worst happens then it happens and we cross that bridge, but I'm really sick of letting it control me.” He wanted you too, he'd felt guilty for any fantasies he'd had of you, but he had missed every part of you beyond belief.

“I just don't want to do anything you might not be able to handle, I'd need you to constantly communicate with me, so I know you're okay."

“I will, I promise."

You were so ethereal, he hated that it made parts of him throb when his brain had already found another dilemma. “I don't think they've got birth control here, or at least we don't have any."

“That's okay, I don't care." No, he couldn't do that to you. How could you handle being pregnant in the midst of everything else?

“It's not a good idea, angel."

“Why? We'll win the war soon and be back home." He wished it was that simple, but poor you having an episode would only complicate things.

“Honey, I just don't think you're ready right now."

“You're?" Fuck. Why the fuck would he say that.

“I meant to say we. We're not ready." Why was he so stupid? How could he manage to be trying to protect you so hard that he caused an episode instead? He'd have to brace himself for the mess he was causing.

“You’re lying to me. Why am I not ready?”

What he'd give for this blip to be over, to be at the point where there could just be children without all the worry about your health. "It's our wedding night, let's not argue. Let's go to bed, I'll read to you.”

But your walls were slightly raised and he could feel it as you stood up. "I wasn't trying to argue, I was trying to consummate the marriage. And instead of just saying you weren't feeling it right now and letting us move on, you said you thought I'd be a bad mom.”

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth.” He said it too sharply and instantly regretted it.

“Then what are you saying, Finnick?” He despised the fact that he was only confusing you more when he was supposed to be letting you know what was real and what wasn't. The stress in your voice was evident as your arms protectively crossed around your body, foot tapping.

“That I don't think this is a good time for a baby, we should jump over a few more hurdles first." Finnick stood up, desperate to touch you, to soothe you. Trying to hide how mortified he was that regardless of all the talk he could still feel himself straining against his pants. “I just didn't say it right, I'm sorry, sweet girl."

"If you don't want to have sex that's fine, but stop trying to come up with excuses.”

"Angel, I do, I'm just…I've gotten so focused on trying not to set anything off that I've started planting the thoughts instead." He should be stronger, more able to read you so that he wasn't the one instigating the thoughts. Instead he was becoming overly paranoid himself, he hated the idea that he could need care when he was finally trying to care for his girl. “What I meant was, I think we should wait until the war is over for certain, so I'll just pull out." Slowly he approached you, hands softly urging your arms to uncross.

He could feel the way you began melting into his touch and it made him feel whole again. "Do you actually want to? I don't want you to feel like you have too because I'm in a mood.” Your eyes glistened with a sincerity that warmed his heart as your arms succumbed to his movements.

"Wanna make my sweet girl feel better, want to make it up to her.” He could basically hear your heart pounding and he loved that you still got somewhat flustered.

“You're absolutely sure though, right? This isn't just you-" His lips on yours cut off the further listings of any anxieties. Free hands searching for the zipper on the back of the dress as he quickly slid it down. He only pulled away long enough to make sure the dress had successfully become a pool at your ankles before his lips were on your chest. “Finnick?" Your voice snapped his head from his assault to look at you, who looked so sheepish to say anything at all. “Can that wait? I'm just… you know.”

With a smirk he raised his head, makitsure to stand fully back up as he looked at you. "You're just what, angel?”

"Finn, you know.” Your fingers messed with his jacket sleeves as you avoided his gaze.

Softly he pecked you on the lips,"Communication.” Another quick peck, "Need you to say it for me.”

"Finny, please don't be mean.” Fuck. Pulling out that nickname ever so sugary sweetly made him want to cave, to get straight onto taking care of you for life. “Already spent all that time arguing."

"Not being mean, angel, we just have to practice using our words.” You lifted his hand to your face, touching the heat of it to your face, which was oddly hot already considering how cold your hand was, per usual.

Your breath fanned across his hand as you quietly gave the confession, “Been aching for you all day, Finn."

“All day?" His hands moved to slowly unhook your bra, “Waited so well for me." The way you needed to just be coddled and taken care of was evident, he wanted nothing more than to love on you any way that he could. He let the bra fall to the wayside so his fingers could focus on how soaked your panties had become. “Can tell you've been waiting." It had been so long it was no wonder you were shy under his gaze. “Gonna make it better, show you how sorry I am." He could fall into the endless depths of your eyes that drew him in and fall forever with a smile on his face.

“I love you." The way you said it so tenderly made his heart skip a beat, he couldn't help but smile and place a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I love you, sweet girl.” Your fingers slipped up to continue the unbuttoning of his jacket which fell into a pile on the floor.

“Are you sure-"

“Yes, I'm sure." Finnick tried to back up this assurance through his eyes, hoping you could read through the depths of his soul. He slid his shirt off and you nodded, a signal that you had accepted what he said as truthful. Your fingers had settled on the button of his pants which you'd slowly undone as he stood there in utter awe of just you, all of you. He stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving you on a nearly even playing ground. His fingers made their way to your hips, to the hem of your underwear to start pulling them down and the way your skin was so cold was startling. You'd always been freezing to the touch, but it made him feel guilty that you'd been stripped of any warmth besides his fingertips. “You're basically shivering, angel."

“You're burning up, so I'll be okay." It was true, the way your body temperatures aides the others had felt like another way you were made for each other. So slowly he'd pulled the panties off your body until they hit the floor as everything else had. Without another word your lips had crashed onto his which he used as an opportunity to slowly guide you towards the bed while you were lost in the feeling of his lips. He laid you down as your hand on the back of his neck dragged him down with you.

He took the opportunity to slide his fingers into your core and reveled in the feeling of you moaning into his mouth. A sound he hadn't heard in so long that it rang in his ears like music, a symphony that he could listen to for days. “You're so perfect." He muttered through the seconds you pulled away for air. You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head, “Yes you are." Finnick reiterated, thumb finding your clit causing another moan into his mouth the moment your lips had reattached to his. “Melodic to my ears angel, so perfect." Your hands tugged at his hair and he couldn't suppress the groan that came out.

"Love you so much, Finn.” The way you talked through the whimpers every time he added more pressure to your bundle of nerves made him an obsessive man. Your lips had become swollen from your prevalent addiction to his mouth, but you didn't seem to care, whining when he pulled his head just out of reach, trying to tug him back down.

He began thrusting his fingers in faster, mesmerized, as he always was and would be, by the way your face contorted with pleasure. “Love you too, angel, love my wife so much." In his daze of fascination you were able to pull his face back towards your own, fingers knotting in his hair.

Your voice was airy as you smiled softly through small whines,"Your wife.” He felt the clear heat your face exuded when he pressed his forehead to yours, it felt like your souls were one.

"My beautiful, perfect, gorgeous wife.” Your lips raised just enough to steal another peck from him as he kept rubbing harsh circles onto your clit. For a while he became enraptured just by your sounds, he didn't know how long had passed as he took in every small whimper to the loudest moans that you tried to cover.

“Oh my god, Finn!" You writhed slightly, a tell-tale sign of how near you were to release.

"You close, sweet girl? You gonna come for me?” He does his fingers up, as well as the intensity of his circles. Lips meeting yours once again as you nodded, eyes scrunching closed.

“So, so close." He began kissing at your neck, beguiled by the somehow lingering smell of the ocean on your skin.

"Come on, you can let go for me, sweet girl.” His kisses trailed down to your chest once again, utterly addicted to leaving the lingering feeling of his lips wherever he could. Upon your release the climactic end of the symphony blessed his ears and he was certain that if it was somehow possible, it had certainly made him harder. "So good for me." He slid his fingers out of you, the need to taste you winning when he brought them to his mouth.

“Need you inside, Finny, please." Your hands lead his face back close enough to kiss as you tried to catch your breath.

“You sure you're ready, angel?” You nodded eagerly, legs lifting to cross around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Yeah. Are you?" Your voice was so sugary sweet and addictive, every part of you was, if he died he was sure every part of you would consume his senses first.

“Yeah." His hand moved to softly caress your face, moving small strands of hair that had begun sticking to it away. Carefully he lined himself up with your entrance, stroking your cheek before he slowly pushed himself in. The sounds of both of your moans mixed in the air, intertwined as your bodies were. “Feel so good, angel. Fits so perfectly, you were made for me, we were made for each other." It was true, he wouldn't be complete without you. He'd gone his whole life needing nothing more than you, in every sense of the way, you fit one another flawlessly. He felt so sensitive that he was scared he might already be on his way to the climax, which he only dreaded because of how close he felt to you when he was in the warmth of your walls. That you were as close as you possibly could be, yet he still longed to be nearer.

“Faster, please?" It was nearly incoherent as you babbled through your whines, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as if you were still somehow trying to pull him in further. He happily obeyed your plea and sped up his ministrations, thrusting through his own climbing pleasure as he moaned. “Missed you so much, Finn. Can't live without you, you're-" Your own moans interrupted your train of thought and you took a moment to regain some type of verbal composure. “Only ever wanted you, only needed you. Meant to be." He was able to decipher your proclamations through the whines and over the sound of his own noises, it brought him ten times closer to feel so basked by your love.

“Not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again, I'm gonna take such good care of my wife. Promise." The security you both needed, that you both ached for and could only be guaranteed once the reign of Snow had toppled entirely. You looked ethereal, your face scrunched up with each noise you made, hair splayed out around you, eyes glazed over with adoration and pleasure. He was so hypnotized by the way love seemed to have filled every crevice of the room and whisped around that he barely even registered that he was at the very top of his climax. He'd let go at what felt so suddenly that he'd simply thrusted further inside of you as you moaned at your own release. It wasn't until the thrill had mostly passed that he remembered his own fears. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered as he pulled out of you completely.

You sat up almost instantaneously and he could feel the panic radiating off of you. "What, are you okay?”

You were so sweet. "Yeah, I'm fine, sweet girl. I just…" He trailed off, staring at you, wide-eyed, anxious to help at any indication something was wrong. For years, nearly a decade he had loved you, something that somehow seemed to be constantly, rapidly increasing. Besides all the troubles you'd both endured he knew there was nothing he would trade any of it for if he knew he could have you and now that life you both yearned for was just in grasp. Finnick had and would dedicate every second he could to sustaining that dream and keeping you afloat, and if he could do that, he could do the same if you did get pregnant. He sighed and leaned closer to you, “Nevermind, angel, just didn't pull out, but it's okay. We're so close to freedom I can taste it and I want a family with you so bad. Finally going to be able to have our perfect little family and perfect little life." He crawled into the bed near you, kissing your face.

“You really want a family with me?" Your eyes were wide with an adorable hope, like you hadn't really accepted that he really wanted to be with you. He scoffed like the doubt was ridiculous.

“Of course I want a family with you, my sweet girl, I married you." He pulled you as close as he could get you, foreheads pressed together once again, making his heart buzz with contentment.

You smiled before looking for reassurance once again, which he was happy to deal out. “And you're gonna stay with me, right? Never gonna be a part or split up again?"

With all the sincerity possible he caresses your face again, “Never gonna leave you again, I promise, angel." You were blissfully pleased with his answer and kissed him once again.

But maybe Snow was right, even if it was unintentional, Finnick Odair was a liar and he in some ways resented himself for it. Yet it felt like there was nothing else for him to do when weeks later he found out about the squad Coin was putting together and he was absolutely certain that regardless of the shared training, the promises, he had to be on that squad, and you absolutely could not be.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick couldn't remember the last time he'd be physically ill, but since you entered the arena, he'd spent every day fighting the nausea. The Capitol's medicine certainly helped, but when he got feverish he barely wanted to take the concoctions. No if you died, he'd let himself die of fever to be with you. This was all his fault for ever even breathing in your direction, for caring, and now he'd have to suffer for it. What kept him going was how he had to be presentable and therefore healthy enough to get you sponsors, to rally for you. So he downed the medicine and copious amounts of caffeine to try and stay awake, he couldn't risk missing anything regardless of the alliances supposed to keep watch when you slept, he knew how fickle those could be. He rallied harder than he ever had to keep the public opinion on your side, you were sweet, delicate, a hopeless romantic, trying to stay alive for love, so pure, naive, a princess being forced to slay the dragon. Per usual people gobbled up any word that fell from his mouth and the sponsors came when called.

Then the rain started and he prayed that the arena would flood, you could swim, you'd survive that way, but it didn't flood. Raindrops just pattered down as the temperature dropped and then in what seemed like a matter of minutes, a few days into the rain, you were sick. Never had he been so grateful to have withheld the money for gifts beforehand because now he could get you what you needed to stay alive. Your lips were turning blue and he felt like he was tripping over himself in anxiety to send it to you. The sound of the rain echoed in his ears as he desperately waited for the blanket to arrive. For you to be warm, to stay alive. That night was the first one he had let himself cry, where death felt so imminent that he was plotting ways to go with you.

You persisted, you were like that. He felt his spirits rise as you continued on, so smart, so resourceful. His stomach wasn't in complete knots until suddenly your facade was slipping. What the fuck were you doing? What the fuck were you saying?

“Seems there's a lot about you I don't know then.” Conway stood and stared at you, Finnick could feel the illusion cracking through the screen. It was never going to continue forever, but this was too soon.

You tried to be quick on your feet, to throw together words to save yourself. “I’m not saying that I want to, just that sometimes you have to do what it takes to survive. Even if it's difficult -”

Conway interrupted your attempted safe and in that moment Finnick's stomach dropped. “Untrue?" Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck himself and Conway and fuck your slip of tounge. The stress had clearly gotten to you and was messing with how articulate you usually could be with your words.

“Yeah, I guess."

Finnick couldn't help but start muttering out loud, “No, no, no, no, don't say that. Angel, please.” He felt like he was going to cry again, you were on the edge of a cliff and the rocks were cracking.

“I'm sorry if that upsets you, I'm just doing what it takes to get home." Of course you were, you were doing what you had to, like every victor had, but you shouldn't have said it. It definitely didn't help that the frustration was evident in your voice. There must have been a brick of lead in the bottom of his stomach. Now he could never be home with you. Conway knew, there was no way he didn't.

“It’s okay, I understand.” No he didn't. “It's just hard to come to terms with, when you remember that this is all designed to bring that out in us. To see the other side, not through rose colored glasses.” Then he kissed you and Finnick knew the tides had turned. You needed to catch on, you could not be the prey, not now. Say you have to pee and run. Dart to wherever you can and hide.

Yet you didn't, you stuck by his side, and didn't follow when he and the male tribute from 7 went off alone for a second as you all ate. Finnick felt numb as the two discussed how they would get rid of you and the girl from 7, eyes red and stinging as he stared at the screen. He was helpless, he could only hope you could get his telepathic message that you were in danger. You didn't and your death warrant had been signed.

He saw how disenchanted Conway was by you when you killed the girl from 2. How dare he be disgusted when you were doing exactly what you had too in order to survive. Finnick was screaming at you through the television when Conway led you away. Stay. Stay by the girl from 7, let her take out the threat of Conway. Don't go with him. It was so hard to watch, but he persisted because he had to make sure you were alive. Finnick despised the way Conway was luring you in, he didn't care if it was hypocritical, you needed to survive, to come back home to him. When Conway's lips crashed into yours as he pulled the knives, your only protection, out of your hands Finnick felt like he'd lost all grip on reality. He threw a glass at the screen which shattered with a resounding crash, bubbly liquid cascading across the room, but he didn't care. Not when you were being led straight to your death, a ticket to a train that kept you forever away from him on this Earth.

You appeared so innocent and trusting, but with a glance Finnick could tell how scared you were, that you knew something was no longer quite right. Then the foot tapping started and if Finnick's stomach could get heavier then it did, too obvious. Any chances of you being able to play the role of the naive ingenue were long gone because Conway knew what it meant too. Then you did as Finnick had begged you to do long before, you ran. Predator and prey. You ran, he chased. Conway's long legs gave him an advantage as he sprinted after you, calling your name out in the tense air. You tried to hurtle yourself upon the closest tree and Conway had pulled you down in seconds.

This was it, the end. Finnick could feel his eyes welling with tears as his yells intertwined with your screams of begging Conway to let you go. He didn't know when he did it, but the coffee table had been toppled over on the floor, objects scattered across the carpet. Conway spewed on and on about how he knew you didn't love him, your heart was clearly owned by another, and how he was getting back at you now. You fought like hell, trying to squirm your way out of his arms until a knife was firmly plunged in your side. The scream you let out was so gut wrenching that let himself crumple onto the floor. Knees pulled up to his chest, face wet with a steady stream of tears, he was so helpless, so broken to not be able to save you.

You, however, made the tides change when your hands, now covered in defensive wounds, sharply forced themselves into Conway's eye. He screamed, trying to cover it, and you'd instantly darted up. Suddenly there was light at the end of the tunnel again, you were so smart, you'd halted him long enough to grab the spear. Finnick held his breath until the cannon went off, you'd overcome it, and he hated that he'd doubted you would.

Regardless of the fact that there were two tributes left, part of the weight on his chest lifted. He knew the feeling of how adrenaline pushed through the body to get you through every kill to the victory when one was in the arena and he could see it in you. His eyes stayed glued to the screen and he felt like he was stuck to the floor. Fingers knotting into the carpet as he anxiously watched. Time passed agonizingly slow, it hadn't been long, but each second you were still in there was hell. A hell that burned his chest just as yours must have been was the girl from 7 was holding you under the water. Just hold your breath, don't panic, just keep holding it as long as you can. You were an excellent swimmer, you could do this. Your body flailed about, trying to break free, but the other girl was firm in her hold. He'd sink into the bathtub himself, go overfill it and drag his head under, force the instincts to hold his breath wouldn't kick in.

Oh how the Capitol would mourn but love the tragedy of every single lover dead. The story they would tell of how heart wrenching it was. A story that wouldn't be told because you'd found the spear and quickly thrusted it upwards. A cannon echoed. You'd won. You'd come back to him. He'd be yours. You'd be his. You'd be each other's. Tears of relief, of happiness racked through his body. Fate had granted you both more time, he would forever be indebted for it. He shot up from the floor, staring at you, “I'm gonna be with you so soon, angel, right with you. Never gonna leave." He'd do whatever he could to be with you as soon as possible, to hold you once again, it was exhilarating to know the work had not been in vain. He'd have to comfort you, console you, but it would all be worth it just to be with you once again. He couldn't even dream of ever leaving your side when he had you so securely back, the one person he loved more than life itself.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick thought he'd had plenty of preparation for how you might respond when you found out that he'd convinced Coin you weren't mentally stable enough yet to be on the squad. He'd done it to protect you, to make sure you were safe, but he needed to be involved. It felt like a no-brainer that he had to help really take the Capitol down, take Snow down. Your emotions made his skin bristle with cold, you were stormy, hurt, betrayed. Which he hadn't done, he responded, he'd done it to save you.

“How could you do that to me?" Your voice shook as you wiped away the tears creeping up in your waterline.

“Angel, I can't let you go out there and die. I'm just keeping you safe." He tried to get closer, if he could just touch you that could reassure you of his pure, loving intentions.

“You think I'm gonna be safe when you die out there and I'm stuck completely alone?"

“I won't die." His eyes were pleading and yours were full of a white hot rage he'd never had directed at him on full blast before.

“I went through all the same training as you, I am my own person, you don't get to make decisions for me.”

“I don't want to control you, I want to keep you safe." How could you not understand? He sighed and took a step closer, which you countered. "Honey, I don't doubt that you're getting better, but this is war and if something happens that makes you go off…” Like him dying, like you being out there with him when his soul left the binds of the planet. “You could be a danger to yourself."

“I’ll be a danger to myself here too."

“There are doctors here who can take care of you, sweet girl. Please, I love you and need you here." Finnick tried to ignore the pressure of tears building up.

“All they'll do is sedate me and I'll never recover. I have to go with you, Finnick, you can't let me rot away alone." You got closer, hands finding his face. He adored the feeling but he couldn't savor it when your eyes were digging into his, bargaining with the depths of his soul. Which would not bend, it couldn't fold to you, no matter how much he wanted to be attached to you for every waking and sleeping moment. You must have sensed this incoming rejection when your face became stony and your grip began to slip away.

He tried to pull your hands back towards him, to keep contact, “It's just a couple of weeks, then we'll be free. We can go home together, live our lives, and have our perfect family. Just one more thing I've got to do."

You fully pulled away and he grieved the loss of contact. "You're punishing me, for leaving you in the arena, you're trying to get back at me for it.”

He shook his head as quickly as he could, "No, I'm not. You were just trying to follow the plan, I don't have any grudge over that, sweet girl. You did what you had too.”

"Like how you're doing what you have too, now?” The air felt stagnant in the silence of the beat as you stared at each other. You stepped closer again, hands grabbing his arms, pleading. “I know I was terrible, that I'm terrible, but please don't punish me for it. Please, Finn, don't do this to me." His head ached, his heart ached, everything ached.

“You're not a terrible person, I love you, and you can't go."

“You promised me-" You choked for a second on the tears in your throat, “You promised you wouldn't leave me." He thought about how you'd done the same and hated himself for thinking it. That was the thinking you already assumed he had and that's what he had to fight against.

“I know and I'm sorry, honey. It won't be long." Once again you pulled your body away from his, you looked so betrayed that it felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach. “I promise."

He felt like he watched something frightening click in your brain, “You promised last time too." Your voice was low before your hands started moving rapidly around while you spoke. “This is you trying to get into my head, they were right, but you're in my head instead. You're trying to psychologically get to me, oh my god, I get it now."

“No, no, no, no, no, no, honey, no. That's not real." Another step forward and you stumbled slightly as you quickly went backwards.

“Yes, you've been toying with me this whole time. That's why you keep pulling shit like this, you're trying to break me.” He was always digging himself into much deeper holes.

"Angel, I'm not. I'm trying to keep you safe. I swear, the stuff you're thinking, that's not true.” Your arms crossed around your chest. “This is why you can't go, this is dangerous."

“I'm not crazy!" You looked at the ground, shaking your head as the tears began falling.

He stepped closer, “Nobody's saying that, you're not crazy. I know that. You just need some more time."

“If I needed more time, why wouldn't you stay?" You pointed at him, “You are a fucking liar and I wish you'd just have killed me instead of playing mind games on me."

You moved around so frantically that he had no choice but to grab you and he wanted to die himself when you flinched and shrunk into yourself. “I don't want you dead. I'm keeping you safe, I know I lied, I didn't mean to and I am so, so sorry.” His own dam protecting him from tears had broken and he began to cry. "I will come back so we can be together forever because I love you, that's what's real. When I'm gone and you're confused, know for a fact that I love you.”

“You can't go. If you go, I have this horrible feeling something bad will happen. Please, Finn, just stay with me.” The way his chest squeezed with guilt was nearly unbearable.

"I have to go.” He whispered and the way you completely broke down made him wish he'd never gotten close enough to be the one who hurt you like this. He caught you before you hit the ground and held you close. "We have time, I've got you, sweet girl. It's okay.” He soothed, rubbing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth to try and call you down.

When it was finally time for him to, the doctors did have to sedate you. It left him with echoes in his ears of how pleaded with him and how you cried. The thought of how much he would really be betraying you if he died kept him going. Every step of the journey was thoughts of you, echoes of you. Wondering if you were still sedated and how he'd make it up to you when you could finally be together again. Free from the reign of the Capitol and together. At least you were safe in District 13, you'd be upset, but protected until the world was ready to stop reigning terror on the two of you. That was until Coin sent in the replacement members for the squad and Finnick was sure he would absolutely lose it when you and Peeta walked off the craft, straight into another set of trials and tribulations determined to tear apart his happiness.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all so much for reading and all the fun discussions we've been having about all the details, I love you all so much. as always likes, reblogs, comments, feedback is all very very appreciated. love you all so so much 💋

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[stiltonbasket]

I know Nyoomerr wrote a mini fic where Shen Yuan dotes on Bingge’s kids, before I sent you the prompt also, but listen… I want many cakes!

There are so many possible cute OC Bingge kiddos Shen Yuan could dote on, and so many ways the Binggeyuan drama outside said doting could go! I’d happily read a million different versions! ♥️

In spite of having three older siblings to play with, and three nominal mothers and four nursemaids to raise him, Luo Shunlei was a very lonely child.

Unlike his brother and his two elder sisters, Shunlei was rarely allowed to see his own mother. Muqin spent most of her time away from his father's palace in the human realm, for she was Emperor-Father's most trusted lieutenant as well as his wife, and could not be spared from the various battlefields Father left in his wake for more than a single season out of each year.

That life suited his mother, Shunlei knew: and he was being looked after well enough, since Mother Ning doted upon him just as tenderly she cared for his sister Suoxin. But he hated to go to her when he fell while playing cuju in the garden, or felt lonesome for his absent Muqin, for Mother Ning cried so often when she thought her children were out of earshot that Shunlei could not bear to add to her troubles.

Nor could he go to Mother Liu, for Mother Liu was Luo Nianzu's mother, and Nianzu clung to her like a baby fire-horned monkey because his birth mother had died before Nianzu ever knew her.

(The less said of Mother Hua, the better, Shunlei thought. She was not unkind to him, but she made no secret of the fact that she was jealous of the favor Muqin received from Emperor-Father; and since Shunlei was Muqin's son, Mother Hua had never liked him very much, either.)

But then, late in the spring of Luo Shunlei's fourth year, Mother Liu brought a man into the hougong's central garden and announced that he was to be Suo-jie and Ying-jiejie's new Shizun.

"He will be your Shizun too, in time," she said to Nianzu, "as soon as you learn how to read more than a few characters."

"What about me?" Shunlei asked anxiously, plucking at the hems of her sleeve. "Shunshun wants to study, too."

At this, Mother Ning looked up from her account-book and kissed the top of his head.

"You can join this year if the taifu says you may," she assured him. "You're very bright for your age, Shun'er, but there's no need to rush. Mingyan gave Zhu-laoshi a twelve-year contract, so he won't leave the palace until the year you turn sixteen."

Sixteen sounded dreadfully grown-up to Luo Shunlei, who had yet to celebrate his fourth birthday. And if the new taifu really would be staying for the next twelve years, it hardly mattered that Shunlei wouldn't begin his studies until after he turned five.

But the taifu was more than happy to teach him, though Shunlei had only managed to learn the three characters that made up his name—and by the first week after lessons began, Shunlei had affixed himself to his new Shizun like a barnacle clinging to the hull of a boat.

Zhu Qinglan was, strangely enough, only the second man that Shunlei had ever met. Imperial Father was the first, and Shunlei had seen some of his demon lackeys from afar; but they were forbidden to enter any part of the inner court save for Father's private palace, so he had never actually spoken to them.

"Are all men from the human realm like you?" Shunlei asked his Shizun once, not long after Imperial Father returned from his latest campaign in the North. "If they are, why doesn't Father make friends with them instead of fighting?"

Shizun laughed and put out his hand to steady Luo Shunlei's grip on his writing brush.

"No," he replied, after the brush picked up its pace again. "Your Shizun is very old by now, that's all. I had to spend eighty years wandering the wilds alone before I learned how to hold my temper properly, and my Shizun was long gone by then—poor shifu! If your Imperial Father had met me when I was a young man, he wouldn't have wanted me as a servant, let alone a friend...or as his children's taifu, I suppose."

Luo Shunlei pouted. "Shizun can be my friend."

"Mm, then this teacher is very lucky. Oh, Shun'er, not again—you mustn't touch the scroll at all, remember? See how well da-gongzhu is writing."

It was true that Shizun was scolding him, Luo Shunlei reflected—smudging his copy-work as he thought, to Shizun's great distress—but he did it so gently that Shunlei wriggled with glee, feeling very much like a wilted flower that had suddenly been thrust into the full light of day.

Shizun treasured Luo Shunlei, just as he treasured Da-jie and Er-jie and Gege; and since he belonged to all four of them, he loved them equally. Mother Ning loved Da-jiejie the most, and Mother Liu loved Gege the most; and though Mother Hua loved nothing in the world other than Er-jiejie, Shunlei was certain that his Muqin loved Imperial Father far more than she loved him.

Zhu Qinglan loved no one at the palace better than he loved Shunlei, and that feeling was so dreadfully new to him that he burst into tears the next time Shizun entered the schoolroom with a bowl of his favorite sweet sesame cakes.

"Why are you crying?" Shizun demanded, bewildered, as Luo Shunlei let out a wail and scurried over to bury his head in the long skirt of Shizun's white robe. "Are you ill?"

He passed the cakes to one of the maids and lifted Shunlei onto his hip, feeling his cheeks and brow with the back of his rough hands.

"His little highness doesn't have a fever," Shizun muttered, "but we can't take chances, so run for a taiyi as quickly as you can. This one will stay with the little prince until the doctor comes."

"No," Shunlei bawled, rubbing his face against Shizun's shoulder. "I'm happy, Shizun."

"Happy?" Shizun asked, more puzzled than ever. "Why?"

Luo Shunlei laid his cheek on Shizun's soft neck and wept, too overwhelmed to explain that no one had ever made anything specially for him to eat before.

His siblings were only passingly fond of sesame cakes, though they refrained from saying so to save face for their Shizun. But Shunlei likes Shizun's cakes even more than the ones Father sometimes makes for their weekly luncheons, and yesterday, Shunlei had finally worked up the courage to ask if Shizun could bake them again.

Shunlei's lessons were canceled that morning, since Shizun and Mother Ning's taiyi said that he needed rest; and so, he spent the rest of the day being carried about the palace on his teacher's back, and fed another handful of sesame cakes whenever Shizun remembered he was there.

By the third month, Luo Shunlei decided that he loved his Shizun more than anyone else he had ever known, except for Muqin and his Suo-jiejie—which was why he bit off the left half of his Imperial Father's nose when Father told him that he meant to take Shizun into the hougong as a bride.

"You can't have Shizun for your wife!" Shunlei screeched, incensed. "He's ours!"

Imperial Father only raised his eyebrows at him.

"If you ever do that again," he drawled, conjuring a mirror to make sure his nose was healing properly, "I'll send you to the North to fight ice demons with Hualing, and I won't bring you back until you're too old to need a taifu anymore."

Luo Shunlei growled and kicked his little feet until he heard the satisfying crack of one of his Imperial Father's ribs snapping in half.

"You can't," he insisted, as Father let out a gasping wheeze and put a hand to his chest. "You have thirty wives already! That's too many. You can't have my Shizun, too."

Father's right eyebrow climbed a little higher up his forehead. "Everyone under the sun belongs to me," he said. "If I want your Shizun, he'll be mine eventually. There's no more to be said about it."

"But Shizun doesn't want you," Luo Shunlei scowled. "Everyone knows that."

For some reason, Father's face fell so quickly that Shunlei almost regretted his unkindness.

Only almost, though.

"It doesn't matter what he wants," Father said at last, after a long silence—and after his broken rib had healed, much to Luo Shunlei's frustration. "But he—he will want me some day, even if his heart lies elsewhere now. You'll see."

Luo Shunlei squinted at him. "I'll go tell Shizun what you're planning," he threatened. "Then Shizun can run away, and I'll go with him."

"Do you really want to visit the North so badly?" his father said idly. "Everything that lives there could eat you up in one bite."

(Shunlei's mother had taught him what to do in case anything ever ate him, so he could survive perfectly well in the Northern Desert if he had to.

Naturally, he said nothing of this to his father.)

Shunlei reached up and tugged sharply on his father's hair.

"Shizun won't like you if you send me away," he sniffed. "You can't be stupid if you're an Emperor, Imperial Father. Shizun said so."

Father sighed and tucked Luo Shunlei under his arm. "Would it really be so bad if Qinglan joined the harem?" he asked. "He'd still be your Shizun, and you'll still get to see him whenever you like. Nothing will change for you and the other little ones."

Luo Shunlei said nothing.

"And," Father said softly, "you can call him muhou after he and I are married. I plan to make him my empress, so he'll be your Imperial Mother as well as your Shizun."

"Imperial Mother...?"

Shunlei had never had an Imperial Mother before. Officially, every woman in the harem was Father's legitimate wife; the sole difference in status between them was that only the five inner wives—or four now, after the untimely death of Luo Nianzu's birth mother—were allowed full courtyards of their own and the right to raise children.

None of them were allowed to call themselves empresses, only consorts and wives: not even Mother Ning, who had reputedly been Father's favorite wife since his childhood on Cang Qiong Mountain.

But if Father meant to take Shizun as his Empress, and if that meant Shizun would be Shunlei's Imperial Mother, then...

"Then if you do marry Shizun," Shunlei ventured, plucking at the yaopei dangling from Imperial Father's belt, "can Shun'er have a little sister? Or a brother?"

Suddenly, Luo Shunlei felt his father's body go cold.

"No," Father said brusquely. "You may not."

"But why not?" he persisted. "If Shizun becomes my Imperial Mother, won't he be allowed to have his own Shun'er? Like Muqin and Mother Ning and—"

"No," his father repeated, more harshly than before. "After your Nianzu-ge was born, I vowed that I would never father another child. Don't ever mention such things again."

Luo Shunlei stared at him. "But I'm smaller than Gege," he said uncertainly. "Didn't Father break that vow already?"

"Enough," Father hissed. "Listen to me, Luo Shunlei. I nearly killed your Mother Ning by letting her give birth to Suoxin, and I as good as murdered your late Mother Qin by fathering Nianzu upon her. If Hualing had tried to give birth to you the usual way instead of molding you from our mingled blood, she wouldn't even have lived long enough to bring you into the world. Would you have me risk killing your Shizun, too?"

Shunlei's eyes burned.

"No," he said in a strangled voice. "Put me down."

So Imperial Father set him down on the ground, looking very much as though he could not bear to stand in Shunlei's presence for another moment.

"Don't you dare mention any of this to anyone," Father said wearily, as Shunlei rubbed his fists across his smarting eyes. "Otherwise, I really will send you up North to your mother."

Luo Shunlei nodded, somehow contriving to hide his tears until he made his way out of his father's courtyard; and then he staggered off to the Bamboo Palace where Shizun lived, hoping against hope that Shizun was at home and not out on another beast-trapping trip with Mother Liu.

"Shizun," he sobbed, beating on the gate with his tiny fists. "Shizun, Shun'er is here!"

And then Shizun was there, bundling Shunlei into his arms and draping a warm cloak over his shoulders before bringing him into the Zhugong's little kitchen for cakes and hot tea.

He fed Luo Shunlei and washed the tears from his little nose; and then, after his sobs began to slow, Shizun wrapped him up in a soft blanket and took him to Mother Ning.

"No," Shunlei wailed, as Mother Ning came running out of her own palace with worry all over her face. "Mother Ning, Shun'er wants to stay with Shizun."

Mother Ning blinked. "He didn't make you cry?"

"No!"

"Then who did?"

Shunlei frowned and burrowed into his Shizun's coat. "Nobody. But Shun'er is staying right here."

"All right, all right," Shizun said soothingly. "You can stay with Shizun for as long as you want. Lady Ning, if you would..."

Mother Ning nodded and promised that she would send a maid to the Zhugong with a bag of clothes for Shunlei.

"You can send him back for his bath, if he needs one before bed," she fretted. "But if he'd rather stay with you, then that's all right, too."

Satisfied, Shizun bowed to Mother Ning and whisked Shunlei back to the Zhugong, where he was made to drink two more cups of medicinal tea—though he did not mind this, since Shizun had already fed him all the fresh-baked sesame cakes he could hold—and put to bed on the pretty lounging chair in the front room.

"Go to sleep," Shizun told him, stroking his hair. "And don't look at this teacher with such big eyes. I'll still be here when you get up."

Luo Shunlei's lip trembled. "Do you promise?" he whispered. "You won't go away while I'm sleeping?"

"Of course not. Has your Shizun ever broken his word? Look—I won't even let go of your hand. You can hold this one, and I'll use the other to write while you nap."

So Shunlei finally let himself drift off; and when he opened his eyes again, some two hours later, he found that Shizun had fallen asleep at his desk, with his head on the erhu score he was copying and his left hand still clasped about Luo Shunlei's.

Suddenly, Luo Shunlei's heart felt very full. But then he remembered that Shizun would leave one day, whenever Father deemed that Shunlei and Nianzu and their jiejies had no further need of him, and then...

And then Shizun wouldn't belong to Shunlei anymore.

His spirits sank. He squeezed Shizun's palm, not knowing whether he wanted his teacher to sleep on or wake up and comfort him.

But at that moment, two words shaped themselves upon Luo Shunlei's lips; and before he could bite them back, he found himself saying them aloud.

"Imperial Mother?" he whispered, hugging his Shizun's arm. "Muhou, Shun'er is...is...."

And then—like a ray of white sunlight spearing through a blanket of clouds—his Shizun smiled, though he had not woken, and kissed Luo Shunlei's pudgy hand in his sleep.

"Hush, my baobao," he breathed, already sinking back into his dreams. "Don't cry. Mother is here."

[redbleedingrose]

What do the batboys do for hobbies in your opinion

Hobbies for Bat Boys!

Rhysand

Okay so to be honest, I feel like Rhys is constantly stressed out being high lord and having to make all these heavy decisions, so his hobby would be something super relaxing and something you wouldn't expect.

First off, Rhysie is such a fashionista, just like his mother. He is absolutely going out with you to pick out all your outfits for the season. You are probably the best dressed female in Pyrthian and it is all because of him. He goes out of his way to custom design outfits for you, often playing a role in hand tailoring dresses that don't fit you perfectly so that it fits you like a sleeve. He knows different styles that look amazing on you, even when you don't think so. All the ladies of Valeris follow your fashion sense, not knowing that it is actually Rhys who is the trend setter for the night court.

Okay, this is kinda out there, but!!! I feel like Rhys would also just love flipping homes. He didn't realize this until after the attack on Valeris, but when he began to help with rebuilding the homes that were destroyed, he realized how much he enjoys the intricacies of designing a home, and surprisingly, he loves the handiwork of it too. Maybe it is the Illyrian in him that finds satisfaction in building something from the ground up. Once the homes of Valeris are rebuilt, he is really bored and can't figure out why until he decides to create a vacation home for just the two of you, and then he realizes what he has been missing out on. Now, he likes to build vacation homes for you and your future children and grandchildren from the ground up.

Cassian

For our daddy Cassian, I think he would pull a fast one on you and be really good at baking. You would think for a big, burly, hunk of a male he would be into wrestling or training as a hobby, but I think he sees it as more-so a job than a hobby. It comes to him when its nearing your birthday, and he is tearing the house apart to find the old recipe book his mother used to create birthday cakes for him when he was just a babe. Finally, he finds it with all these recipes that have tiny handwritten changes inked into the pages, and he realizes that his mum poured her love into her cooking and baking. So he tries to do that for you. Because he loves you more than he can possibly describe. So he bakes a five tiered black forrest cherry cake, with marachino cherries he hand picked from Summer Court (which he had to sneak into and out of with the help of a certain spymaster) and fudge imported from the Autumn Court. It turns out to be the best cake you and he have ever eaten, and thus begins his journey as a home baker. Cass becomes extremely good at making pies, cakes, and macrons. He never shows up to a family dinner without some form of dessert. At this point, even Elain can't complain because the sweets he brings are just too good.

Another hobby that I think Cass would have would be going to nursing homes or daycares where he can interact with the elderly and little babes. He always brings a dessert in tow that has the children literally climbing on top of him. He listens to the stories that the elderly have for him, taking note of all the lessons that he learns from them about love and life, sometimes sharing the stories with you in the deep of night like the little gossip he is. And he likes to play games with all the little babes, encouraging them to join him outside so they can play hide and seek in the woods behind the daycare. Sometimes you tag along because the babes love story time with you, complaining that Cass doesn't show the drawings for long enough like you do.

Azriel

The shadowsinger is indeed a singer.

He spends a lot of time in his private office with you lounging on the couch nearby reading, taking the time to develop different song lyrics and hymns for you. It is the one thing that he inherited from his father that he is willing to accept, is his musical creativity. He likes to collect different musical instruments and uses them to create different toons that he will only ever play for you. Sometimes he puts on one male shows just for you, playing the piano while softly singing you a song that he wrote with you in mind. He could spend hours trying to figure out the different keys and notes that he can achieve just to formulate something that might put into words how he feels about you.

I think Az is also the kind of male who is really interested in learning dead languages. He would find this ancient book in the libraries beneath the the House of Wind, and could spend days if you let him, trying to decode the meaning of the books. He likes the phenotics and analyzing different poetry and trying to make sense of what fae in the past felt and thought.

To expand on the last point, Azzie is def the history buff of the bat boys. He loves learning about the history wars and times of depression in the past, and how the world came together to make something better. You think that he thinks it brings him hope, and teaches him lessons that he can't get from anywhere else. He tries to apply them as spymaster of the night court.

Plus his reading glasses make him look incredibly sexy so you aren't complaining.

Masterlist

What do we think the hobbies are for the Vanserra bros?