#thank u so so so much sarah !!

[jils-things]

commission for @heart-of-aspiration!! thank u for letting me draw the gang ever ehehhe 💚💚

if you're interested, here's my commission sheet!

[junseotual]

the complete eri guidebook (2023) full version under the cut ♡ pdf ver. happy birthday @xiaojuun !! <3

credits. with the help of: meg (@hozierbyrne) // brina (@aquablues) // aléks (@possession1981) // vianey (@souladies) // lili (@ninqz) // aweks (@awek-s) // miha (@jaebeomtual) // rachel (@gnanii) // mare (@dongkwan) // ro (@sunghanbin) // rosie (@kimjiwoong) // lulu (@fushigojos) // sofi (@yukuz) graphics: gift boxes // broccoli // orange fruit watercolor // lip print textures // notion-style scribbles // healthcare vector icons // human anatomy icons // film cutouts pack // 3d travel icons // drinks vector icon set // coffee outline illustration pack // baby vector icon pack

[mariatesstruther]

I love the idea of Sarah and Ellie as same aged step-siblings but can I introduce you to the idea of the canon age gap being kept and Sarah, a grown professional woman, laughing at her father constantly for having to re-do the teenage years with another sarcastic teenage girl but this time this one isn't as well mannered or nice.

Sarah broke curfew out studying and smoking pot with her other AP classmates. Ellie breaks curfew because she broke into a building.

Sarah loves it.

“Sarah broke curfew out studying and smoking pot […] Ellie breaks curfew because she broke into a building.” THIS IS SENDING MEEEEEEEE

UM THANK U VERY MUCH ANON FOR THIS INTRODUCTION. I AM YES-ANDING THIS SO MF HARD

wanna take a sec to cred @liveandletcry23 and @maddiesbooknook for the sarah/ellie sibling idea!

what i love about this too is that joel would essentially have to deal with The Teenage Years not just twice, but three times—because from what we gather from the show/game, he spent the majority of his early life being responsible for tommy. and ik this is heavy in some respects but its also just so fucking funny imagining joel going through the wringer with tommy (who i imagine to be a bit of a reckless thrill-seeking type teenager), then raising sarah and being like “oh my god, bless her, look at this sweet little angel baby. i finally get to rest”

and then ELLIE comes in and figures out how to slide down the railing of their staircase before she’s even 5 years old, and he’s just like

[garykingz]

Btw the feedback I've got from Red Voice is so wonderful and I appreciate every single person who has even checked out my novel at all 🩷🔨 It literally means the world to me

[jack-kellys]

Détective au + afterlife au for the ask game!!

what's quite funny about this ask is that it became a ghost hunting/destroying storyline and then maybe two hours into writing the snippet i got a ghost hunting au + something else ask. more for me!!

i have a lot but u can send me more randomized aus!

okay SO! recently i saw this 8 episode show called lockwood & co on netflix (originally a book series) and it was sort of a weird first season to follow without the lingo and historical context of the world so basically this is an au adjacent to that concept. inspired by, if you will. one thing that's important is that young ppl lowkey function as living tools to listen to, see, or feel ghosts' energy. so they are tasked with destroying ghosts. without further ado here's a 1.6k word scene of a one-shot idea i'll finish eventually!

–––

Sarah and David stood at the door together, the eerie home where their research had brought them. A haunted item, some music box, had been being bought and sold across the city, only leaving haunting incidents in its wake. It wasn’t hard for the spirit within to free itself with all that travel and the likely lack of protection the music box had undergone. David had tracked the hauntings, cross-referenced with recent black market sales, and estimated the next location via finding the latest buyer’s home. Sarah had surmised the threat level based on the hauntings (the deaths; there had been ten recent ones of hypothermia, which could only mean a ghost’s touch), finding police reports and tapping their forensics friend Finch to properly place what kind of threat they’d be dealing with. 

And now, armed with iron bullets, chest plates, and lined gloves among other things, Sarah tried the doorknob. Unlocked. 

The twins shared a look, David nodding and fingering his pistol as Sarah carefully opened the door.

An iron blade poked into David’s throat, both siblings freezing in place. After a moment, David groaned.

Holding the sword was ex-detective Jack Kelly, who looked about as shocked as David had been. His two brothers-in-arms, Charlie and Anthony, flanked his sides with their own weapons drawn. 

“Who gave you this case?” Jack demanded in a whisper, while Sarah scoffed. 

“Who gave you this case?” she countered. “You’re not registered detectives anymore, Kelly. You can’t be here.”

“And somehow, we were here first,” Anthony grinned. “If we cracked it better and quicker than you, then I think we gotta be the right people to be here.”

“Too many of us’ll make us dead a lot faster, so you guys should go,” Charlie nodded. “We got it covered.”

David scowled, guiding Jack’s iron away from his neck with a finger.

“Not a chance in hell,” he muttered, marching past all of them. “Follow me.”

After a moment of hesitation, he heard footsteps behind him, and his own grew more sure. 

The old hardwood of the house barely creaked under their feet, careful of the noise they made as they were essentially breaking and entering– it was the buyer’s property, and David wasn’t sure if the man was home or not. Essentially, all they had to do was secure the music box and get it to their detective agency, to determine if it should be stored or if it was safer to destroy it. Spirits were mostly tied to objects, and since these specific hauntings had been within a short radius of the box, it had to be the spirit’s physical connection. But where in the house the box could be was another matter. 

David’s hand found his sister’s, letting her take it and closing his eyes. Listening.

“Right,” he heard Jack drawl out. “The spirit gonna give us directions?”

“You know it doesn’t work that way,” David sighed, “or I’d be calling you an empath.”

“He does love his crystals,” Charlie teased, and David heard a small rustling between the two brothers, likely from Jack pushing the other.

“Quiet,” he said softly, suddenly, a small sound at the back of his head. Mechanical, a trill of gears tapping and moving to his left. He drifted toward it, allowing Sarah to guide his steps. The sound moved forward, between his eyes now as the noise of it came more into focus. It wasn’t tinny, wasn’t machine-like despite the ticking and tapping of it. He felt his feet hit the stairs, and cautiously started up them.

“What are you hearing?” Sarah whispered, resting her other hand on David’s back.

“It’s fluid,” he murmured, “as much as a music box can be, anyway. Guessing it’s because of the spirit’s post-life being attached- or… combined with it.”

“I’d rather fight a ghost than a box, so let’s not hope ‘combined’,” Anthony muttered behind him. Jack stifled a laugh, before letting out another one. David heard the railing’s wood creak, maybe a hand tightening around it.

“Wasn’t that funny, Jack,” Anthony said. “Now you’re just patronizing me.”

“I know, you’re not that-” Another giggle broke it off, what sounded like a hand slapping over Jack’s mouth as they made it to the top of the stairs. The fluid sound grew louder in David’s ears. Melodic, bright, and pretty, a swirling tune that tried to make David smile.

His eyes flew open with a small gasp, squeezing Sarah’s hand.

“Something’s wrong,” he murmured. “The spirit sounds too strong, we have to find that box- we have to find out if the buyer’s still- …alive.”

His gaze had landed on Jack, hunched over the banisher with his shoulders shaking as his brothers tried to get him to look at them.

“Jack,” Sarah hissed, “what do you feel?”

“Come on,” Charlie encouraged, rubbing Jack’s back. “Jackie, you’re okay, come on.”

“It’s- kind of…” Jack started, falling into a strained batch of giggles again. He lifted his head, fingers pressed to his temples and pained look on his face while a smile resided on his lips. He shook his head, laughing again. “Very.. happy. It’s happy, that kinda bubbly ecstatic feeling? You should…” 

Jack grinned, lopsided and loose, and David stepped back. They had to get him out of here.

“You should check- on the buyer,” he laughed, curling into himself. “You should- oh, man, you should–hahaha–check on the buyer…” 

“Fuck. Fuck,” Sarah breathed, hand on her sword. “Charlie, stay with Jack. You two, with me.”

David nodded, glancing at Anthony before casting his gaze at Jack once again. The boy couldn’t hold it in anymore, wheezing with delirious laughter as Charlie leaned against the bannister with his iron cane at the ready. David tore his eyes away, running after Sarah.

The noise, the music was present in David’s ears now without him even trying to concentrate, loud and repeating and quite beautiful. He gripped his forehead between his index finger and thumb, trying to silence it while he drew his pistol. Sarah kicked open the bedroom door, and the pretty music faded away from him. 

“Oh, shit,” Anthony sighed out, crossing over to the bed. A body laid there, with skin chilled and lips blued and eyes grayed. “Well, there’s our buyer. How’d Jack know by a feeling?”

“And why would a ghost in a music box be happy to kill?” Sarah frowned. “Spirits don’t often know they’re killing others, that’s…”

And then noise as a whole left completely, David’s eyes falling on an object on the dresser as the world fell into static silence. It was ornate, rectangular, with run-down gold moldings on its edges and glossed rose along its top and sides. He stepped towards it, wanting to investigate the rest of it. Look at it, look into it. Wanting to open it, wanting to hear it again, so pretty and soft...

“-avid!”

He winced at the surge of live sounds- walls creaking, Sarah’s voice, her feet on the carpet, the clink of Anthony’s pistols in their holsters. Something was in his hands, rectangular, and he could hear Jack’s laughter shriek in amusement from down the hall.

“Don’t open it,” she was saying, her eyes wide. Anthony was still by the bed, hands by his hips, fingers spread. “David. Don’t. Just give it to me.”

David’s gaze dropped to what was in his hands, the pretty music box occupying his vision again. All he had to do was tug his finger towards himself, and he’d hear the song again. That was all he had to do. 

“No,” he said suddenly, though his grip tightened on it.

“No?” Anthony scoffed, shifting on his feet a bit- a more active stance. “For the know-it-all, you sure are stupid. Drop it, Jacobs. Now.”

“All we have to do is get it in the iron sack,” Sarah said softly, shooting Anthony a look. “David, just let go, and I’ll put it in. Don’t listen to whatever you’re hearing–”

“I’m not hearing anything,” he interjected. “I can’t hear it, it’s in my head, Saz, so if I just- if I open it then it could counter it–”

“No way,” Anthony said, shaking his head. “It’s like Charlie said. The more of us there are the easier we wind up dead, so don’t try shit to make that true.”

“But what if- if it could counter what Jack’s going through too?” David tried. “He’s sick with it, it’s contained in him right now, right? If we open it, we can release it.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying right now,” Sarah said, her voice the material of her weapon. David watched her hands take hold of the box in his grasp. “You’re not in your right mind, Ach. Let go.”

“Once it’s open, we can put it in the bag,” David scoffed. “That’ll make sure the spirit stays trapped and Jack and I will be fixed-”

She tugged it, like they were seven years old again, and David tugged it back.

“Jesus christ,” Anthony muttered. Swiftly, he pulled out a pistol, David glancing up to see the circular, hollow barrel of it.

“You’re insane,” David scoffed. 

“That’d be you,” Anthony sneered. “Drop it.”

“Fine.”

David raised his hands over his head, and the box went flying behind him. 

Sarah shoved him aside, Anthony raced around the bed, and David watched as it hit the ground.

A bright, tinkling sound filled the room as Anthony drew both his guns and Sarah raised her sword, both stepping back as a flickering shape rose into the air. David’s brain felt noisy, but… grounded. Clearer, feeling a bit sick though present. 

“She’s in a fuckin’ tutu,” Anthony sputtered out, eyes wide. David didn’t have the clearest sight when it came to spirits’ physical forms, only a flicking outline. “She’s a dancer, and… she’s smiling.”

And Jack’s laughing hadn’t stopped.

[nick-cassidy]

Hiiiiiiiiiii 🫶🏻

You are now in charge of a store of your choice. Who would you employ? (Racing drivers, commentators, TP...)

this is my store btw it’s a gas station in the southern USA and it sells frozen yogurt too . ( pictures for reference )

I would put Sacha fenestraz and Jake Dennis on cash register bc the cashiers need to be fast and talk a lot also they’re always goofin back there so it fits them

I would put edoardo morarta and séb buemi on cooking the pizza/chicken/Hot Dogs etc etc bc séb cant Cook and i Imagine edoardo is really good symbolizing how race trac food is either the best or really really bad

Jake Hughes is the random worker that somehow is always mopping when you get there

[seekingthestars]

got distracted, went on a quest to explore the royal hidden passageway 🎉

which is incredibly long and winding LOL and there are!! so many rocks, i went through so many weapons because i didn't wanna use all my bombs ahhh BUT

i explored and found the whole soldier's armor set all by myself! :D

[cameronsprincess]

Kay’s 5K Celebrationᰔᩚ

Hi babies! I just wanted to start by saying thank you SO MUCH for 5k. I never in my wildest dreams would’ve imagined so many people would love the work I put out there, but I appreciate every single one of you! My way to give back and say thank you is this small celebration! I can’t wait to see what you guys send in, and I love you all, MWAH😚

Character List: Rafe Cameron, JJ Maybank, John B, Pope Heyward, Sarah Cameron, Nate Jacobs, Steve Harrington.

Event is: closed. thank u all for participating <3

Hot Coco + Movie — Send in a character from the character list above + a concept / prompt i’ll write a small blurb<3 Please specify if you’d like smut/fluff or angst, only 18+ can request smut!

Winter Wonderland — Send in a character from the character list above + a concept and I’ll make you a moodboard <3

Snow Angels (mutuals only) — Let me tell you what I love about you <3

tagging a few mutuals: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafeyscurtainbangs @oceandriveab @zyafics @rafetopia @nemesyaaa @starkeysprincess @sugarcoatedstarkey @pankowperfection @httpsdrewstarkey @redhead1180 @babygorewhore @bloodibambiidoll @moremaybank @kisses4angels @rafesangelita @kiiyomei @jjsbaby @jjsmarijuana @sturnioloshacker @cherrygirlfriend @drewsarms @drewsuncrustables @drewsephrry @moon-in-nostalgia (sorry if i forgot anyone, i am not good at remembering all my moots users..)

[downs1de]

@milleroptimism liked for a canon line starter

"I'm telling you, there's at least a hundred different legends on the walking dead, but they all have different methods for killing them."

"Some say setting them on fire... uh, one said--where is it? Right here: "Feeding their hearts to wild dogs." That's my personal favorite."

[shu-of-the-wind]

reblogging with sarah's tags cause goddamn:

Recently I've heard some people don't like how FMA handles fascism or more like how it handles the characters affected by it or the characters who are working for the state. That it's anti-radical, liberal centrist jargon. I think it's still pretty good though and one of my all time faves, even if couple things I would have done a bit differently

I would not have done anything differently.

Audiences today want Marvel movies where the heroes and villains are announced at the beginning. They want good and evil with no nuance. They want righteous revolutionaries who are 100% ideologically and politically perfect. They want heroes who only use violence in a way that the narrative frames as wonderful and liberating.

Fullmetal Alchemist does not deliver that.

Colonel Mustang is a war criminal. The story never apologizes for his war crimes. Those crimes are there on his resume and they are never scrubbed away. He even manipulates and recruits two child soldiers. So audiences don't like that he orchestrates a revolution against the fascist shadow government. They didn't want him to be the one to do that because he's not a character that you can romanticize.

Scar's cause was righteous. But his terrorism was completely ineffective and did not help his people. He became obsessed with murdering a child soldier while neglecting the needs of Ishvalans. The fascist shadow government actually helped Scar because they wanted to kill powerful and disloyal alchemists. Scar could do that for them. His terrorism was useful to the very forces he was fighting against. Obviously, audiences who want righteous radical revolution stories are not going to like that.

Amestris's revolution is eventually carried out by a collection of people who were once on several opposing sides. And internet leftists don't like that because of course they don't.

[rafesslxt]

so you know how guys when they’re angry they just fuck their girl hard? yeah well what about someone pissing reader off so much that she needs a release so rafe / mattheo just let her ride him and it’s all hard and sloppy and needy😋

nsfw | m. riddle + r. cameron | requested | words:253

warnings: smut, kissing, dom and sub switching, mention of sex

note: i thought why not write for both of them? English is not my first language

Mattheo would enjoy every second of it. When he notices you‘re getting mad or really angry, he already knows he‘s going to have the best sex with you. He lazily holds your hips, letting you do all the work and just enjoying the sight in front of him. Your brows arched, huffing and puffing, sloppy sounds falling through the room. He even would have a cigarette habging between his lips, smirk tugging on the side of his mouth and once in a while he would take a few drags and blow out some smoke to his left, making sure not to hit you with it. "Love when you get all feisty and hot, princess. Makes me adore you even more."

Rafe would also have a smirk on his lips, looking down at his precious girlfriend who‘s always nice but when people tried you, you would explode like a cute little volcano in his eyes. Like Matty he would let you ride him, his grip a little firmer on your hips, teasing you when you would get tired after a while. "What is it eh? Thought u a big girl all tuff and shit when you were mad." He would turn you two around at some point and start pounding you from behind, hard. Getting all the frustration out of you. "Need daddy to help ya‘, right?" He‘d fuck you right into your pillow, face scrunched and bottom lip between your teeth when his habd wanders around you and starts playing with your clit.

a little something, hope you like it and thank you gorgeous the request i loved the idea i just had to do it a bit shorter cause i have too many long storys in my drafts and didn‘t want you to wait for months 💀🫶🏻

tell me in the comments If you were here for Rafe or Mattheo hehe

xoxo sarah <3

[mariatesstruther]

candid photos of me reading the last chapter of @hypnotisedfireflies’s fortunate son

[vibinglikethat]

my first danny gonzalez gifset may have only gotten like one note (not counting my self rb lol) but thats not stopping me from working on another danny gifset!!!!!!!!!!

[shellxrls]

i need to be sarah’s cutesy sabrina carpenter espresso baby best friend who fucks her on the dl and also fucking her brother🤫

a/n: anon u ate with this ask cuz i love this song soo much, and i loveee the idea of rafe being beyond pussy whipped all for his gf to be more in love w his sister than him.

warnings: male receiving oral (mxf), cum swallowing, female receiving oral (fxf), cheating, NO INCEST at all they fuck at completely separate times.

🍒🍒 🍒

you’d often find yourself one of two places on the daily, ironically they were both situated in the same house: laying prey to the skilled fingers of sarah cameron in a fuzzy orgasm-drunk haze, or clinging all cutesy onto rafe cameron’s arm as he works away in his office — maybe sucking his dick under the desk if you were painfully eager.

at current moment, you were coddled next to rafe, pointing at an assortment of glittery bags on your phone screen and singling out the ones you wanted the most — or rather, the ones you didn’t want, considering the order you were about to place was essentially the bulk of the entire website.

“rafee, card please,” you tap him on the shoulder and urge him to rummage through his wallet, pulling out a black card before handing it to you and briefly glancing at your cart as you completed the transaction.

“gonna return the favour for me baby?” he mutters distractedly, eyeing some documents but letting his left hand wander to your thigh.

“course rafe, just wish you weren’t working all the time,” you pout, dragging his hand further into the crease of your thighs and rocking slightly on the chair, “otherwise i could return it now.”

he stills, dropping his pen and rubbing out a crease on his forehead with his free hand before turning to you, “mhm, under the desk princess, i can take a quick break.”

you beam, having successfully captured his attention, and crawl beneath him to begin unzipping his work slacks.

eager-mouthed you attempt to swallow him entirely on your first suck, lubing his entire shaft as tendrils of saliva dripped from your open mouth all the way down to his balls, stringing messily.

“fuck that’s good, now what do you say?”

“thank you rafe,” you force out through your stuffed mouth, eyes glimmering up at him in cat-like excitement while he looked down on you with nothing short of hypnotism, eyes glazed over with want.

it’s not long before he’s cumming down you’re throat in spurts, fisting your hair to force your head down further and making you swallow it so his office isn’t left messy.

he taps your cheek once he finishes, murmuring something about how good you did before quickly being reoccupied with his documents, sending you out with a firm slap on your ass lest you distract him any further.

you find yourself easily wondering into sarah’s bedroom, not bothering to knock and diving straight down onto her bed next to her, “was rafe boring you?” she questions with an edge of sarcasm.

you swallow, slightly guilty considering you did come in here to get release after sucking rafe off left you painfully wet, “something like that,” you trail off for a second before redirecting the conversation, “and anyways, i just missed you, haven’t seen my girl in a while.”

she smiles at that, leaning over you and pushing you into the bed frame with a kiss, her lips were always much sweeter than rafe’s, you’d always end up borderline inhaling off the flavoured chapstick she so regularly applies.

“missed you too,” she grins against your mouth, wasting no time in swiftly removing her shirt, then yours too.

kissing down your clavicle, she grabs the buckle of your jeans and pulls you onto her, humping you slightly against her leg.

you keen into the air, clinging onto one of her hands and bucking you body back into her, “shit sarah.”

she laughs lightly, the sound creating a hum against your pelvis while she works off your pants and leaves you naked underneath her, pussy glistening in her face

“you really did miss me huh?” she bites her lip almost awestruck and meets eyes with you before nudging her nose into your clit, cashing the nerves to twitch against her face.

she laps at your soaking entrance slowly, nose bumping your clit with every lick and making you squirm underneath her, your stomach pulsing in drawn out pleasure.

“mmh please sare — more,” you whimper, pushing your hips outward and forcing her face in deeper, tongue probing at your hole while she introduces two fingers to your clit in tight circles.

she tongue fucks you for a while before moving back onto your clit, sucking on the nerves and redirecting her two fingers inside of you, curling aggressively while you mewled and your whole body tensed up.

when you finally cum she eagerly mouths it all, rising from between your legs hot in the face with her mouth and chin all dampened due to slick.

you giggle looking down at her, pulling on the strap of her bra so she could meet you with a kiss, all the while thinking about how pissed rafe would be if he ever found out.

🍒🍒 🍒

[jack-kellys]

hey hello hi. after reading a few asks i wanted to see what your opinion on the Sarah X Katherine ship. some people like and hate it- and it’s undoubtedly an 100% fandom invention due to them not even sharing the same media and it being implied they don’t even exist in each other’s universes (Davey’s Family is kept vague in the musical and pulitzer is much more based upon the real life one in the movie who didn’t have a daughter at the time) and idk.

it’s a long running fandom consistency i see of wlw parings getting sidelined or made of convince, and it’s hard to dispute them because in fandom spaces it’s hard enough to get a good wlw pair, and even it’s stretching it a whole lot here. especially with them both bing jack’s love intrests in cannon, feels like a “oh what do we do with them?” to make way for him usually being shipped with Davy or Cruchie.

i don’t think it’s an active type of ignorance by most fans at all but it’s not just newsies- it’s in a lot of spaces that ususally have queer relationships as a main fandom focus, and like in the Sprace post- lots of people have a point their mind for those queer relationships and them not being white mlm ususally with specific body and personality types it can be difficult to get real attention for it or justify it’s existence.

sorry for the rambling on, would love to hear someone elses’s stance.

I MEANT TO ANSWER THIS WEEKS AGO (or whenever this was sent)

send me asks dudes! what’s up!

you honestly are correct. it is so common in fandom spaces as a whole to consistently center mlm ships based around a piece of media’s text and then put the women elsewhere- often into a wlw relationship for diversity win points. and this is so true for katherine and sarah in favor of centering javid mainly.

but what i think is the most annoying part isn’t the fact that they’re put together—because honestly they’re a fun pair based on their personalities in newsies.. sarah can be both gentle and quite to the point while katherine is sharp and a bit messy—it is that they are sidelined. katherine, who is literally one of the main characters of newsies like more than davey in terms of plot, and sarah, who was the literal one woman in newsies 1992. they are both genuinely interesting characters that objectively mattered a lot in their respective versions of newsies (YES SARAH MATTERED… she spread the children’s crusade further through the city’s more general workforce and helped print it). they have very clear personalities and impacts. and they often just poof away in favor of “the boys” or whatever which is very. old fashioned.

i think sarah and kath can be a “forced” wlw pair and work because they as characters work well— also because the writing of newsies is honestly weak when pairing each of them with jack, like the context we as fans have of them with jack is… not very exciting compared to jack’s extensive and more arced relationship with davey within the context for example. but if you pair newsbians for the sole purpose of like. making them go away. then what the actual fuck. you know. because then that really is only seeing mlm ships as what fandom should center or “be about”. and that doesn’t mean more fics have to be About newsbians (though. i mean. yeah), but when they’re a couple in a fic it should be less of a throwaway like easter egg thing…. because those are two literal prominent characters in the World of newsies so it’d be weird to put them away.

yeah🤝

[santaasi]

die with the smile

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: a love once haunted by nightmares finds solace in a sunrise, where promises of healing and hope turn dreams of a future into quiet, steady certainty.

warnings: !major spoiler for obx4 final!, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, establish relationship, talking about death, mention of panic attacks, no use of y/n, jj calls reader angel, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.9k

a/n: requested by this ask. thank u for request, love <з. and to everyone else – i'm waiting for your requests too.

ᯓ★ now playing…

lady gaga, bruno mars – die with the smile

IT WAS SUFFOCATING. After everything that happened in Morocco, it felt like your chest had been crushed under an unbearable weight. Breathing no longer came easy. Each inhale was a jagged reminder of the past, a sharp sting of memories you couldn’t escape. You hated sleep, hated the moments when your mind would surrender to the dark. Every night, the desert came back to haunt you, its endless stretch of sand suffocating. You saw JJ lying there, motionless, his body a broken promise beneath the burning sky. And surrounded by the Pogues, Rafe fucking Cameron, his hands digging JJ's grave, burying the love of your life six feet under.

You could still hear your voice, a fractured thing, torn from your throat as you screamed for them to stop. You fell to your knees, pleading with them to hear you, begging them to leave him there, to not let him go. But no one listened. John B, Sarah, Kiara, Pope... they just stood there, frozen, like they couldn’t see the life slipping away. Of course, it was just a dream — your brain's cruel joke, twisting everything you feared most into a nightmare. But in the stillness of the night, when you woke with your heart pounding and the cold sheets tangled around you, it didn’t feel like a dream at all. It felt too real. Too close.

And so, for three months, you lived like this. In the hollow space between waking and sleeping, where the line between nightmare and reality blurred beyond recognition. Three months of restless nights, clinging to coffee mugs as if they could fill the emptiness, while your eyes begged for sleep. But when you did manage to fall asleep, the dreams would return, relentless, each one leaving you more shattered than the last.

It wasn't as bad as it had been in those first two months, when every moment was suffocating with fear. When you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your house, couldn't bring yourself to stop waiting for that phone call from the hospital. The one that would confirm the thing you couldn't bear to imagine — that JJ was gone. Everything had felt like a fever dream: tracking down doctors, finding anyone who could help, getting him back to Kildare, the hospitals, the bills you could never afford, the ones that now you had to face. Your parents never asked you to repay the money, but you knew how much they'd given up for it. They'd been saving for years. It felt wrong to let it go without giving something back.

And then there was that month of rehab, where the days stretched on like a never-ending ache. Sitting next to JJ's hospital bed, listening to the faint beeps of machines as nightmares still held you in their grip, tormenting you while you tried to hold onto him in the real world.

You hadn't cried once. Not in those two months. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to — weeping felt like you were digging his grave in advance. Like if you let the tears fall, you’d lose him all over again. But now, he was here. With you. Alive. The JJ you knew, the one who cracked jokes, who lived without fear, without hesitation. And you tried to return to who you were before, but it was harder than you'd expected. He made it seem so easy, slipping back into his old self, but you felt like you were still drowning in the wreckage of what had happened.

For weeks, you sat beside him, feeling his skin warm beneath your touch, hearing his laughter echo in the spaces between you. But still, in the quiet moments, the fear lingered. Every time you closed your eyes, you feared waking up in another cold bed, alone. But each morning, you’d find him there, by your side. He was here, alive, and you began to let yourself believe it, piece by piece.

Slowly, the days started to fill with color again. It wasn't easy, but it was better. Breathing no longer felt like a battle, and with each passing day, you felt yourself letting go of the haunting fear, the dread that lived just behind your ribs.

And you never left his side. Once, it had always been JJ who took the lead — who reached for you first, who kissed you first, who pulled you close. Now, you were the one to reach for him, to thread your fingers through his, to press a soft kiss to his lips or his forehead. It was like you were holding him tighter, making sure he was still real, still here.

"If I had to almost die for you to get this clingy," JJ teased one evening, grinning up at you as you curled into him on the couch, "You could've told me sooner, you know. I didn't know I had a personal koala bear all this time."

You smiled at his playful jab, though your fingers gripped him a little tighter. You tucked your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was like a song, a reassurance that he was here. That he was alive.

You were learning how to laugh again. How to joke. How to be you again. Or at least, almost. Because even though the world felt like it was beginning to make sense again, you couldn't shake the nightmares. They were still there, lurking in the shadows. Every time you closed your eyes, you feared that the night would swallow him whole once more.

But for now, he was still here. And in that moment, that was enough.

The chateau had become your sanctuary, a fragile semblance of home. But even here, in the quiet of its walls, you couldn't escape the void that followed you, the weight that pressed on your chest every time you woke up without him beside you. The comfort of falling asleep wrapped in his arms didn't seem to be enough anymore. It didn't stop the dreams from coming.

Every night, they came like a storm. JJ, dying in your arms, blood staining his chest. JJ, sinking beneath the waves after falling off the boat, reaching for you, but you couldn't reach him. JJ, spiralling off his dirt bike, tumbling into the dirt, and you couldn't save him. And then, there was the desert. Always the desert. You couldn't escape it, no matter how hard you tried.

But in the moments before the nightmare took hold, when you woke to the warmth of his body next to you, his hand resting lightly on your waist, his breath soft against your neck, you could calm yourself. You could breathe, steadying your heart before the panic could rise. He was there. He was alive. And you would cling to that reality until the night came again, bringing with it the horrors you couldn’t outrun.

JJ, of course, remained blissfully unaware. He slept soundly, his chest rising and falling in the peaceful rhythm of someone who had earned a brief reprieve from the chaos. And you — you would lie there, bathed in moonlight, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, needing to touch him, needing to see that he was really there. That he wasn't slipping through your fingers. Over time, the nightmares began to fade. They became less frequent, their grip less tight. But just when you thought you could breathe freely, just when you thought the storm had passed, it came crashing back.

Two weeks of peace. Two weeks of deep, uninterrupted sleep. But that night, everything changed.

The dream returned. The one you feared the most. JJ, lying motionless in the sand, his clothes stained with dried blood, his body pale under the desert sun. The wind blew the sand into your eyes, blinding you, choking you, as Rafe stood above him, digging, his hands moving with the unholy rhythm of a grim reaper, burying your love beneath the earth. You fell to your knees beside the pit, the hot sand searing through your clothes, but you didn't care. You couldn’t look away. You couldn’t look away from the hole that was swallowing everything you loved. With each shovel of sand, the pit grew deeper, and with it, your heart.

The faces around you were blank — pale, cold. John B, Sarah, Kiara, Pope... they stood there, frozen, as if they were burying someone they'd never known. No tears. No grief. Just... emptiness. It broke you. It shattered you, piece by piece.

"No! No! Please! Enough!" you cried out, your voice cracking as you scrambled to your feet, your body shaking. You turned to them, your heart a fragile thing, desperate for anyone to react, to feel something. "Do something! He's not dead! JJ's not dead! John B! Sarah! Please!"

The tears fell freely, hot against your cold cheeks, choking your breath. Everything blurred around you, and all you could see, all you could feel, was his face. His beautiful face, pale and cold under the relentless sand. You reached for him, your fingers trembling as they traced the outline of his cheek.

"I love you, JJ... Please, don't leave me... don't you dare leave me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the roar in your ears. You pushed the hair from his face, trying to pull him back to life with your touch. "Please, Jay, wake up. I love you. Please..."

The heart-wrenching sob that escaped you felt like it was tearing you apart, even as they began to throw the sand over him. As they buried him. Covered him. And the world turned dark.

Someone's hands grabbed at you, pulling you away, but you fought them, kicking, screaming, dying with him as the earth swallowed your love.

"No! Please, no!" The words tore from your chest like jagged glass, but it didn’t stop. It never stopped.

Then, a voice — soft, familiar, grounding. A warmth that pulled you from the nightmare. "Hey, hey, angel..."

You gasped, eyes snapping open, panic seizing you as the darkness of your dream lingered. The bed was empty. The space beside you, cold and vast. Your body trembled as sobs wracked your chest, but then arms wrapped around you, strong and steady. They held you close, pulling you into warmth, into the comforting scent of the sea and something more.

"Wake up... come on, angel, it's okay," the voice coaxed, his words gentle but firm, a tether pulling you from the depths of your nightmare.

You turned, eyes still blurry with tears, and looked over your shoulder. You half expected to see nothing. To be alone in the darkness. But then you saw him. JJ. JJ. His face was the same as it always had been — familiar, comforting, real. The soft smile on his lips made your heart stutter, and you found yourself reaching for him instinctively.

"JJ… you're here," you exhaled, your body relaxing, your mind calming for just a moment. But then the overwhelming relief struck you, and suddenly, you were gripping him as tightly as you could, clutching him like you'd never let go. You turned in his arms, wrapping yourself around him, pressing every part of yourself against him, trying to absorb his presence with every cell of your being. You needed to feel him, needed him to know how deeply you'd been shaken.

"I thought you were… you were… I saw…" you choked out, the words barely a whisper, breaking apart in fresh waves of tears that trembled through you. You buried your face in his neck, shuddering as his hand ran soothingly down your back.

"Shh... I'm here, love," he murmured softly, pulling you even closer. "I'm with you, and I'm not going anywhere." His hand traced gentle circles in your hair, his voice a soft balm over your wounds.

JJ knew how much you’d been struggling. He saw it in your red, swollen eyes each morning, in the tired shadows that lingered beneath them. He noticed how you would sometimes drift off mid-conversation, lost to a place he couldn't reach, as if carrying something too heavy to share. He felt it every time you’d reach for his hand, holding it tighter than you used to, grounding yourself in his touch. And he felt it every night you stayed at the chateau, choosing to lie beside him rather than in your own bed, pressing your ear against his chest just to hear his heartbeat.

JJ Maybank wasn't oblivious. He understood what haunted you, and he wished with everything in him that he could erase it. Because he knew — if it had been you, if you were the one hovering on the edge of life and death... he couldn’t even let himself think of it. You were his everything, his only certainty in a world that had never offered him much. And knowing you were hurting like this, knowing he was the reason, that was the worst thing he could imagine. It was worse than the death he’d nearly met.

And so he tried to help you in every way he could. He stayed close, always nearby, holding you tight whenever you needed it. He whispered sweet promises in your ear, spun dreams of the future for you both, reminded you every day just how much he loved you. He did everything he could to show you that he was here, that he wasn't going anywhere.

But seeing you now, shattered and trembling in his arms, feeling your tears soak his shirt, it tore at him. It was like a raw ache, a knife twisting deeper with every sob you released. You were suffering because of him, and he could feel the guilt clawing at his chest. He’d never wanted this — not for you.

As your breathing began to calm, your hold on his shirt loosened, and he shifted back slightly to meet your gaze. Your face was swollen from crying, your eyes rimmed red, and he felt a tenderness rise in him that he could barely contain. He lifted a hand to your cheek, thumb grazing your skin as he leaned in, gently brushing his lips over yours, a silent promise, as if he could kiss the fear away.

"I'm fine," you whispered, though your voice was trembling and raw. JJ just shook his head, unconvinced. He bent down, picking up his hoodie that had been lying on the floor, then draped it around your shoulders. The familiar, comforting scent of his cologne surrounded you, filling your senses, and you closed your eyes, sinking into the warmth.

"Let's go for a walk?" he asked softly, his voice gentle but insistent. You managed a small nod, slipping out of bed to follow him.

The sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon as you reached the beach, bathing everything in a soft, golden light. JJ's hand was intertwined with yours, and his thumb traced delicate patterns along the back of your hand, grounding you. The breeze tugged at your hair, the salt air filling your lungs as you took slow, steady breaths, savouring the tranquility of the moment.

When you reached your favourite spot, tucked away behind the rocks, JJ settled down, pulling you between his legs, his arms circling you. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and you felt a soft, involuntary smile tug at your lips. His heartbeat thudded against your back, steady and reassuring, and you let yourself melt into the safety of his embrace.

For a few quiet minutes, you both watched the sun rise, bathing the ocean in warm, shifting hues. Then JJ's voice broke the silence, low and hesitant.

"You know... for a second, I thought I was going to die," he murmured, his voice thick with an emotion he rarely let himself show. "When I blacked out, I thought... this was it. That y'll would leave me there in Morocco, that I'd lose everything."

JJ swallowed, as if trying to steady himself, and you could feel the tension in his arms as he held you tighter. He’d tried to laugh it all off before, hiding behind jokes and smiles, but now — now it felt real. The memories weighed down his words, and you could hear the unspoken fear beneath them.

"JJ, don’t," you whispered, your own voice catching. You pulled his hoodie closer around you, burying your face in the soft fabric to push away the memories of that day, the endless days that followed. His arms tightened around you, his cheek pressing against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he drew you closer, as if he could shield you from the memory.

"No, I need to say this… I need you to hear it," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a shuddering breath, and you felt something wet land softly on your shoulder. A tear.

JJ gave a small, shaky grin and shook his head, leaning in close to murmur in your ear. "You've been with me through everything, angel. You saved me. You kept me alive."

The words settled into you, quiet and profound, and you turned to look at him, seeing the vulnerability he was baring, the weight he'd been carrying alone. You looked back at the horizon, feeling a deep ache inside, a pull that was both painful and reassuring, like your heart was finally finding its place.

You closed your eyes, concentrating on nothing but him — the feel of his arms, the warmth of his breath against your neck, the way his fingers tightened protectively around yours. You wanted to wrap yourself in this moment, to sink so deeply into him that you’d never be apart again.

"When I woke up for the first time… I heard your voice," JJ's voice trembled, breaking as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. "The way you told everyone that I wasn't going to die... the way you begged me not to... not to leave you..." His words cracked, and you felt the weight of his pain seep into your bones. He was broken, and it tore at your heart.

You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the soft, trembling pulse beneath his skin. "I couldn't die... every time I slipped away, all I could think about was you," JJ whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "That I couldn't leave you. That I love you, and I don't want to leave you..."

He gently cupped your chin, lifting your face toward his. His eyes — red and swollen from crying — met yours, and in that moment, you saw how deeply connected you were. You were both raw, broken open, and yet, still whole together.

"I love you so much, that even at death's door, I fought with everything I had to stay here with you," he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. His hand slid down your cheek, brushing away the tears that refused to stop falling. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I put you through this, angel."

You felt your heart shatter for him, your lip trembling as his words hit you like a wave. Your hands moved instinctively to his face, cupping it gently, and you shook your head. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault that life had dealt him such a cruel hand. It wasn't his fault that he had been made to suffer in ways no one should. You knew he didn't deserve this. He deserved better — so much better.

"I promise…" JJ's voice was tight with emotion, but he pressed on. "No, I swear... I will never make you go through this again. I swear it. I swear that after all this, I won't give you any reason to worry. I will always be here for you." His blue eyes searched yours, holding you captive with their intensity. The weight of his words felt heavier than anything you'd ever known. "I will be with you, no matter what. And I will build us the house you always dreamed of. A white house with big windows and a garden, where we’ll play with our dog — our dog, which we’ll name JJ Jr. And then... maybe a child, or two, or three...”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head, though tears still lingered. It had always been a dream, a fantasy you shared with him, but now, seeing the determination in his eyes, it felt like a possibility. It felt like something you could reach out and touch.

"I'll give you the world, angel. I'll give you paradise," JJ continued, his voice thick with promise. "I'll do everything in my power to make sure these stupid tears never fall from your beautiful eyes again. Do you believe me?"

There was a pause. His gaze was so sincere, so full of hope, searching for any sign that you believed in him, in what he was offering. You felt a warmth spread through you, a quiet certainty in your chest. You smiled softly, your heart swelling with a love so deep you thought it might burst.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow. You let your kiss speak for you — every unspoken word, every emotion that had built up inside you over the months, the fear, the longing, the desperation, and finally, the relief. This kiss was all of it, and more. You poured everything into it, every promise, every fear, every hope, every part of you that you'd been holding onto for so long.

You held him like you'd never let go, feeling the weight of time slow down, knowing that in this moment, you were safe, you were here, and he was here. Nothing else mattered — just the two of you, together.

"I believe you, Jay. I've always believed you, and I will, because I love you," you murmured, your words soft as they met his lips. He responded with a deeper kiss, pulling you into him as if he could anchor himself to you, as if he, too, was letting go of something.

You giggled as he playfully knocked you down onto the sand, its warmth wrapping around you like an embrace. The sand, once so haunting, now felt soft and grounding beneath you, no longer a symbol of loss but one of hope — a new beginning waiting to be written.

JJ leaned over you, his blue eyes softened by the first light of dawn, eyes that were once wild and filled with fear but now were steady, full of promises. "I love you more, angel," he whispered, his voice like a lullaby against your skin, "and I'm not going anywhere."

He leaned in, capturing your lips again, and this time, every kiss melted the edges of past wounds, pushing away the darkness of every nightmare and sorrow you'd held. Here, with his arms around you and the sky lightening into the day, it was easy to believe in something beautiful, something lasting. You kissed him back, savoring each touch, each brush of his fingers against your skin as he held you closer.

For the first time in months, you let yourself imagine a future unshadowed by fear. A life filled with morning sunrises like this one, laughter echoing between you, the warmth of a home you’d build together. As JJ pulled you even closer, you felt a quiet certainty settle in your chest — a certainty that happiness was no longer a distant hope but a promise waiting for both of you, right here, right now.

thankx for reading <3

i was literally crying while i was writing this and i felt like this for the first time in my life. so, i hope you liked it. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist