#all of the words or none of the words that's how it goes

[mapis-putellas]

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 2203

Warnings: none

Summary: when Alexia is sick and more stubborn than ever, yo do everything possible to make her feel better. [Based on this request, though I did change it up a little to make it fit alexia better. I hope that’s okay.]

[prompts]

It was rather late when you wonder into the living room from your shared bedroom, spotting Alexia sat on the couch clad in one of your shirts and a pair of baggy sweatpants just where you'd left her a few hours ago. In her hands was a small notepad and pen, and her eyes were fixated on the TV in front of her where one of her last Barça matches was playing.

It was against Sociedad, and they'd won, of course, but win or lose Alexia always had to watch the match back. There was always something she was under the impression she could fix. Always something she or someone else could do better.

Analysing, is what she likes to call it. Obsessing is what it actually was.

Normally, you were content to leave her be. However, today, you weren't so keen to let her do so. She'd woken up somewhat under the weather this morning. Nothing too terrible. Just the sniffles and maybe a light fever if her flushed skin was anything to go by, but despite that all you wanted her to do was relax. Maybe take some medicine or eat some soup. But getting Alexia getting her to admit she was sick was like trying to find something to watch on Netflix; almost impossible and always ends in a fight.

And so you had simply watched. You'd watched as she'd stifle somewhat heavy sneezes into the back of her wrist. You'd watched as she'd swallow heavily before wincing and reaching for the warm tea you'd purposely left out for her. And you'd even watched as she laid her head back against the couch before rubbing at her temples. All you had wanted to do was to pull her into your arms and convince her to let you look after her. But you hadn't, despite how much it had pained you to do so.

With a quiet exhale, you make your way properly into the room and sit down on the opposite side of the couch. Due to the fact that she was still so enthralled with the TV, you're able to give her a quick once over without her noticing. She appears okay, you think to yourself as you watch her scribble something on her notepad. A little sleepy maybe, but that was to be expected after a long day at training. But despite your longing for that to be the truth, you knew for a fact that it wasn't.

Alexia was amazing at hiding the fact she was sick. The last time it had happened was almost six months ago, and you'd been none the wiser until Mapi had snitched on her one night after training.

Alexia had cursed at her. Mapi made a sarky comment in response and whilst the two of them had chased each other around the house yelling obscenities at each other, you'd been left to sit on the couch trying to figure out just how you'd been so oblivious. There were no signs. No symptoms. She went to work, slept and ate fine and was still her usual stubborn self at home with you. In the end, it taken Ingrid comforting you to realise you weren't at all oblivious and Alexia was simply just really good at pretending to be okay.

It tells you now that despite the nonchalance she was currently displaying on the outside, beneath the surface was an completely different story that for some reason she doesn't want you to see.

It wasn't that she doesn't trust you because you knew for a fact she does. You'd been through way too much together for that not to be the case honestly. It was just how Alexia was, So, so stubborn.

The room goes quiet a few moments later, and you flicker your gaze away from Alexia and over to the tv to see that it was now off. In the reflection of the screen you could see Alexia setting her notepad onto the table along with the remote and pen. You look back at her just in time to see her stifle a quiet sneeze into her the back of her wrist.

"Bless you." You murmur, speaking for the first time in what feels like forever. Alexia does no more than nod with a smile that looks more like a grimace, settling back against the couch with a quiet sigh.

You do no more than watch her for a second before turning around in your seat and holding out your arms. Alexia raises an eyebrow, and you were quick to shrug as you spread your legs, one on the ground and one laid flush against the back of the couch.

Right now, you had no ulterior motives, you just simply wanted to hold her. Seeing the fact that you were being genuine, Alexia crawls over to you and all but collapses against your chest. She curls up on her side, letting out a congested sigh as she secures her arms around your waist with her cheek flush against your sternum.

You wrap your arms tightly around her shoulders, your hand cupping the back of her head as you press a kiss to the top of it and let out a quiet sigh. No words were spoken. They didn't need to be. You both knew for a fact she wasn't feeling all too great but neither one of you were willing to admit it for completely different reasons.

Right now, however, you weren't too concerned. She was allowing you to hold her, to comfort her, and that was way more than she'd done the last time and for that you were incredibly grateful. As you lay there in a comfortable silence, you feel Alexia slowly but surely growing more limp against you. Her breathing slows; her arms loosen, and when you look down, you see that her eyes were now closed.

Not quite knowing if she was completely out for the count just yet, you make sure to keep as still as possible as you trail your hand up and down the length of her back. Her head shifts slightly, now buried into your neck, and you feel more than hear the slightly raspy breaths that hit your skin. It takes a further ten minutes before you were sure she was actually asleep, allowing you to reach for one of the many blankets you kept on the back of your couch before laying it over the both of you.

You tuck it beneath her body, making sure it covered all of her so that only her head was peeking out. Alexia doesn't make a peep as you scoot a little further down the couch so that you were properly laying down, and you sigh a little in relief as you allow your own eyes to close . If she didn't want to admit she was sick, or take any medicine or eat any soup, you were at least grateful she was allowing herself to get some much needed rest.

*

You wake up the next day feeling uncomfortably hot, your skin damp with sweat and your cheeks deeply flushed. There was a heavy weight on top of you, and as you force your eyes open and glance down, you see that it was Alexia and that she hadn't moved a single inch throughout the entirety of the night.

With a quiet groan, you yank off the blanket in hopes it would help cool you down a little. It doesn't, and it makes you realist that it wasn't the blanket that was making you hot, but a very fever induced Alexia.

You take a few seconds to contemplate your next actions before slowly and reluctantly slipping out from beneath her. You land on your knees, soothing Alexia's furrowed brow with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"It's okay. I'll be back." You whisper hoarsely, blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you rise to your feet and head through to the kitchen to grab the things you would need to help Alexia feel at least a little better.

You grab a cloth, soaking it with cool water before squeezing out the remanence and placing it onto the counter. You then grab some cold medicine along with some Tylenol, taking a mental note of the dosage Alexia was allowed to have as you carry everything back through to the living room.

Alexia was thankfully still asleep, although now she was laid on her back. Her breathing was so hoarse it almost sounded like snoring, and you can't help but smile slightly as you perch on the end of the couch and place the cool cloth on her forehead. Her brows furrow as her head turns a little to the left, and you place a gentle hand on her chest, rubbing it in gentle circles in hopes it would help sooth her.

It appears to do so, but her eyes do flicker open, her gaze hazy due to her fever.

"Hey, you," You murmur, stilling your hand before bringing it up and gently cupping her cheek. "You're pretty sick."

Alexia simply blinks as she brings a clumsy hand up to try and push off the washcloth on her forehead. You shake your head as you take her hand in your own, giving it a gentle squeeze and guiding it back down to her side.

"No, baby. Keep that on. You have a fever."

Alexia blinks again, her face scrunching up in mild discomfort as she lets out a single, hoarse sounding cough. You wince a little at the sound as you reach for the cold medicine, pouring the allotted dose onto the small plastic cup before holding it to her lips.

"No." She grunts, clumsily trying to bat your hand away. Her efforts prove futile as you move the cup before it could be hit, earning yourself a rather grumpy pout.

"I know," you sooth, reaching up to adjust the wash cloth slightly. "But it'll help you feel better, baby. You know this."

Alexia sniffles before once again shaking her head. She eyes the cup in your hand with a dirty glare, almost as though it was offending her by simply existing. You can't help but laugh a little despite the concern you were feeling.

"Alexia..." you trail off.

"No." She murmurs.

"Baby, come on," You shift a little closer, leaning down to press a kiss to her flushed cheek. The heat the greats you makes you all the more determined to get some medicine into her. "For me, please?" You weren't against begging if that's what was necessary.

Alexia hesitates before letting out a quiet whine. It was evident she didn't quite know what to do. She didn't want to take the medicine, but she didn't want to upset you by not talking it either. She stares at you with a pleading look on her face, her bottom lip quivering just slightly.

"I know," you whisper in understanding. "How about we come to a compromise?"

Alexia's gaze flickers over to the cold medicine you hands before looking back at you, almost as though she was saying anything but that.

"You don't have to take the cold medicine right now, but only if you take some Tylenol to help get rid of that fever." You say, and though Alexia hesitates again, this time she nods her head making you let out an almost silent sigh of relief.

Progress.

"Good girl," You praise genuinely, switching the cold medicine with the Tylenol pills, holding a single one to her lips. Alexia's lips part, and you set the pill on her tongue before helping her swallow it down with some water. "Good job. One more, baby." You assure, repeating the process once more before capping the bottle of water and taking her hand in your own.

Alexia squeezes weakly as she sniffles again, heavy lids threatening to close as she stares up at you with a pleading look on her face.

"What do you need baby?" You ask, trailing the pad of your thumb over the back of her hand.

Alexia wets her dry lips with her tongue as she reaches to loosely grab your shirt. "Cuddle." Is all she says, and though you internally wince about being once again trapped beneath your own personal furnace, you don't hesitate to nod your head as you slip back beneath her in the same position you'd been in before.

Alexia coughs hoarsely as she clings to your shirt, her cheek flush against your chest as her eyes once again slip closed. You use one hand to hold the still cool washcloth to her forehead as the other slips beneath her shirt to trail gentle circles on the too warm skin of her bare back.

"Thank you for letting me look after you." You whisper into her hair as you press your lips against the top of her head in a lingering kiss. Alexia says nothing, but she does crane her head up to press a kiss to your neck although it was more so just a brush of lips against the skin.

"Go to sleep baby. I've got you."

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @xxnaiaxx @marysfics @liloandstitchstan

[funkyplantguy]

grian gets saved by hotguy and then pines over him <3

so this "au" (if you can even call it that when it exists exclusively in my brain and now in this ask) is mostly crack and comes from me joking around a couple days ago with some friends so...don't take it too seriously. that being said...

-

you have (3) new comments! view now?

click.

areeongreenday: hey! so this is insane.

click.

h0tguysnumber0n3fan: i guess i kind of understand where you're coming from with this - scar goodman and hotguy do share a similar sense of humor, and i sort of see what you're saying at 47:03 when you compared their voices (more specifically, the inflection they use on specific words) but...i guess i'm having a hard time imagining scar as a superhero. don't get me wrong - he's plenty cool, but...didn't he say that he's a full-time content creator now? i don't know that he'd really have the time to record, edit, and post videos on top of saving the city on a near-daily basis. interesting theory, though! admire the dedication.

click.

scargoodman: ;)

and there it was, taunting him - that damn winky face, yet again, commented nearly instantaneously each time grian uploaded a new video about the man itself. scar goodman - known to many as the man who had risen to sudden fame in the video essayist community with his charming good looks and boisterous personality. scar goodman, whom grian suspected was secretly none other than the city's beloved superhero. after all, they'd both made their debuts within a week of each other and shared not only a similar path of success but a similar sense of humor, a similar speaking style, a similar body type, a similar laugh...sure, there were things that didn't quite line up, but...for the most part, they appeared to be the exact same person.

okay - maybe grian was a little obsessed. but what was he supposed to do, not point out the obvious?

what made matters worse was that nobody seemed to believe him. no matter how many videos he posted, no matter how much proof he gave...nobody was willing to hear him out.

nobody except scar goodman himself, who seemed intent to drive him absolutely insane.

grian grumbled something to himself, pocketing his phone and continuing down the long, narrow sidewalk to his apartment complex. he'd lost track of time at work yet again, and as a result, the sun had long set. this wasn't unusual for him - he often opted to remain late in the office to "finish up a few things" (ie take advantage of the functional wifi his workplace offered instead of trying to upload videos on his crummy home network), so he was...fairly comfortable tracing the path back to his apartment in the dark of night. the street lights in this part of town didn't work exceptionally well, but with the familiarity of it all and the dull light of the moon, grian typically fared well enough.

tonight, however...well, call him paranoid, but...something felt...off. something about the way all the buildings around him were dark, indicating that their inhabitants were either asleep or out (and entirely unreachable if grian were to call for help). something about the absence of the various stray cats that he often crossed paths with. something about how the complete and utter silence made his ears ring.

"aw, what's this? a cute guy? well, pretty boy, you've just entered the wrong part of town at the wrong time. unfortunately, loose lips sink ships, or...uh...however the saying goes, so...sorry, i can't let you leave this visit alive."

before grian could even register the words being spoken (where were they even coming from?? above him? below him? behind him? everywhere, all at once?), he felt hands gripping the back of his shirt. in another moment, he was on the ground, his breath clawing its way out of his chest. above him stood a figure, shrouded in darkness and the billowing, starry cape draped across their shoulders. in their hands was something glinting, something sharp, something deadly -- something that grian's frazzled, spinning mind was unable to put a name to. or maybe it refused to - refused to name the tool that would be his doom. maybe it was better that way, he mused idly, as the figure raised it high above their head. maybe it was best to not know.

"hey! there you are - what did i say about running off?"

and just as quickly as he'd accepted his death, the threat of it was gone, vanquished by the appearance of the tall, costumed man on the rooftop adjacent. grian felt his breath return to his chest in one fell swoop, filling his lungs and sending a wave of sensitivity to his throat. he coughed, hard, tears welling helplessly in his eyes, and the newcomer's attention snapped to him in an instant.

"oh - and you've made a friend! how nice. unfortunately, there are no plus ones in prison."

"hotguy," grian's would-be murderer snarled. "i thought i'd lost you."

"nah. i may have gotten lost, sure. but you didn't lose me. there's a difference."

"you'll wish that i'd lost you when i'm through with you."

"oh, that was lame!" the man cried, hopping over the low rooftop wall and landing neatly on the ground below (how he did it, even grian wasn't sure. by all intents and purposes, his legs shouldn't have that level of shock absorption, even if he had been fed some chemical cocktail by a mad scientist at a young age as he boasted). "listen - we've got to get you a better catchphrase."

hotguy strode forward, his eyes glinting behind his tinted visor. he glanced to grian out of the corner of his eye, then back to the villain - then back to grian again, his mouth going slack in surprise. grian met his gaze - took in his appearance - and let out a bark of laughter, one not missed by either scar goodman or the cloaked figure in front of him. scar returned his laughter, throwing his head back and planting his hands firmly on his hips.

"well, what a coincidence," he giggled, after a moment. "my new catchphrase just so happens to be "subscribe to my youtube channel."

"what?" their third demanded, glancing between the two. "what are you talking about?"

"oh my god. there's no way. there's no way. how - how am i the only one who knows? how am i the only one who suspects?? it's obvious - it's so obvious."

"what's obvious?"

"i know, right? i make it as obvious as possible, and still...still, nobody puts two and two together. well...nobody except for you, apparently. i guess that you're just...special."

"why don't you just come out and say it?" grian mused, propping himself up on his elbows and ignoring the sputtering from their newly acquired third wheel. "i feel like if you said it - either as scar goodman or hotguy - people would have to believe it, no?"

a strange look came over hotguy's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

"ah...i don't think that would change anything. plus, i have this thing with this cute guy where he tries to tell everyone my identity and i egg him on to get him to make more silly videos. i would hate to give that up."

he winked, and grian felt warmth climb his cheeks. gone was the fear, gone was the panic, gone was the darkness and the creeping, crawling sense of unease - instead, there was only curiosity, burning brightly in his chest. he wanted to talk to scar - hotguy - for hours, wanted to pull the object of his obsession apart to see what made him tick, then put him back together again, just to see what would happen. he wanted to get to know who hotguy was underneath the suit - and who scar goodman was with the suit. he'd wanted (he'd wanted for so long) and it felt like maybe...just maybe...he'd get to have.

"hey! what the hell is going on?"

"oh, right," hotguy chuckled, turning his attention to the third member of their party. "sorry - didn't mean to ignore you. here - sit tight, for real this time. the police will be here soon."

"dude, i'm just going to leave again. do you really not have handcuffs or something?"

"who needs handcuffs when you have a cub to design fancy gadgets for you?"

"a...a what?" the figure asked, then yelped, startled, as something exploded out of the cuff on hotguy's wrist. a net, affixing itself neatly to their body, wrapping them up in a cocoon of their own folly. grian stared at it, humming in approval.

"nice."

"thank you! it's new."

"i know."

"i bet you do," scar responded, and grian flushed further at the teasing edge his tone took on. "i bet you know almost everything about me, at this point. obsessed, much?"

"i could say the same," grian huffed back, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his jeans (there was a rip in one leg, now, he noticed with a frown). "you recognized me, like, immediately. it's pretty dark out, too - sounds like you're the one obsessed."

"what can i say - you're pretty and smart. i happen to like my men pretty and smart."

grian sputtered incoherently in response, all confidence gone out the window. oh god - he was even more charismatic in person, even in costume. and god, was the costume more attractive in person, as well - baggy cargo pants and a tight, fitted top that exposed his tanned midriff. not the most tactical, sure - but damn was it hot.

"you can't say that," he moaned, covering his reddened cheeks with his hands. "oh my god. i hate you. i've known you for five minutes and i already hate you."

"sure you do," scar responded, grinning. "i - oh, hold on."

he raised his hand and tapped the earpiece affixed to the side of his head, concentrating. after a moment, he sighed - and for just a second, grian thought that his shoulders drooped in exhaustion. as quickly as they sagged, however, scar was straightening, turning back to grian with an easy smile.

"sorry, handsome, duty calls. are you alright to get back home on your own? i doubt this guy will be giving you any more trouble. those nets are pretty sturdy."

"wait!" grian sputtered, his heart hammering painfully in his chest (no, no, he couldn't let scar slip through his fingers, not now, not when he was finally so close). "don't go - i...can i see you again?"

scar's smile wobbled around the edges, and any panic grian felt was replaced with guilty - heavy and suffocating (though he wasn't sure why)

"ah...isn't it more fun, this way? don't you like the chase? isn't that exhilaration enough for your pretty little head?"

"i mean...it's a fun hobby, yeah, but -,"

"then we'll stick to the status quo. after all, i'd hate to rob you of your favorite hobby. goodnight, grian. can't wait for your next video."

and with a wink, he was gone, disappearing back into the shadows so quickly grian could have sworn he was made of them. and grian...well. he had an apartment to get home to, a cat to feed...and a chase to continue. and maybe, someday, if he was fast enough...he'd catch up.

[ilyrafe]

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: domestic violence, murder

word count: 1k

a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)

taglist: @starkeyvhs

unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.

strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.

she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services. 

his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.

when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.

“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.

she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.

“how can i help you, y/n?”

she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.

before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.

the cash.

“i need you to kill my husband.”

he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.

“why?”

that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.

“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”

the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.

rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.

“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”

“no, he’ll find me!”

the panic in her voice pains him so much.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”

“i don’t understand…”

“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”

after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.

she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away. 

(...)

in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside your house.

ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring your husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen you coming home. hopefully you really did leave this place for good. 

rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help you, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing you, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been your last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.

it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.

upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.

strange.

prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, your husband, apparently passed out.

this will be easier than expected.

before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches your bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of your clothes are gone. you really are gone. you did go back home, but you're gone, and that’s what really matters.

a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.

thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.

let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))

[xo-codbby]

werewolf!simon x reader 🖤

18+, mdni, sex n the whole lot lolz. first time writing werewolf smut, forgive any mistakes 🫡🫣

"you touch yourself while i was gone, bunny?"

the question had been innocent enough but the way he had you under him in the bed made you shiver in anticipation, body trembling in pure pleasure. deft fingers pry your thighs open, two thick fingers dragging along your slick slit, collecting the honeyed essence on the tips of his fingers. a dark chuckle rolling off his tongue as his hums softly in satisfaction, dark brown eyes burning into yours before your taste dance along his tongue. he lets out a satisfied groan, a thick sound erupting deep from his chest as you watch his face darken in pure lust and love.

his broad frame shivers in delight but this time he has to restrain himself, its already so hard when his cock is aching for some relief. he bends slightly, his tongue trailing up the hollow of your neck as he growls softly collecting your taste to hold close.

"needy for me already, hm? didn't do a thing yet" he blows softly across your waiting cunt, his smile peeking through when he sees your poor neglected pussy twitch just for him. you don't even get to answer before you feel his thick finger slip deep inside you, slowly working and stretching you open. he's absolutely mesmerised by the sight, intently watching how your greedy pussy swallows his finger, revelling in the soft whimper you let out as he goes deeper.

"so tight for me, love. bet your little fingers couldn't stretch you out the way i can, huh?" he slides in another, soaking up the way you cried softly clenching desperately around his thick digits already so overstimulated from not being able to have any relief

"none of tears now, quit that crying baby" he coos softly, his face bending slightly as his nose brushes against your clit making you buck your hips

"feels s'good si" you murmur breathlessly trying to rock your hips against his hand only causing him to chuckle, gently tutting his tongue. he only lets his fingers do the work, curling upwards making you groan softly. you knew he was still pissed from earlier, back when he saw a recruit around you. it was bad enough he agitated from the loss of the mission but seeing you give a hug to the other man had set him off and you found yourself in his barracks with him reminding you just who owned you like this

"wonder if that bastard thinks he could get you like this" simon hissed out softly, retracting his fingers looking at your flushed face. the sight makes him so possessive, he's half determined just to fuck you in front of the recruit so he knows not to mess with his woman. but the other half is too selfish, not wanting to share with another man just how pretty you sound.

"si pleas-" your sentence gets cut off with a moan as he finally gives in, big hands wrapped around your thighs his thick tongue lapping against your opening before splitting you open drinking up your slick. it's all too much and not enough, he's mindful not to hurt you but the urge to claim you only grows higher. his hips rut against the mattress desperately, grunting into your cunt as he sucks on your clit

he doesn't let up his assault between your legs, the beast in him not satisfied even as his teeth scraped your skin gently leaving soft bruises against your skin. he usually would've let you cum a few times on his hands before he works you on his knot but tonight he feels needy, feels agitated still at the other man who had his filthy hands all over you

you were right on the edge, every nerve in your body set ablaze by the man between your legs. your body curls as he draws out your orgasm but he doesn't let you cum, not just yet anyway. he manhandles your body, pulling you up against his chest as the other shreds his trousers off shrugging them somewhere in the depths of the room

"mine. you're fucking mine, you understand that don't you?" every word is enunciated with a soft kiss as you nod quickly hands grasping on his chest feeling the muscles twitch under your touch eliciting a soft growl from his throat. you feel the head of his cock against your entrance as you gasp softly, legs shaking slightly as you breathe shakily

"it won't fit-" "i'll make it fucking fit, love"

the last bit of his resolve shatters, completely driven by his innate instinct to satisfy you. to mate you, to claim you. he roughly grabs you by your hips, lining himself up before pushing deep inside you, stretching you open and laying you bare. your walls hugged around his weeping cock, aching with pure need as he pulls you further on him.

his calloused hands smooth over your body, across your skin reverently for his own peace of mind that you really were in his arms. he adores how easily you seem to fall apart in his grasp, his thumb grazing over your nipples enjoying how you pressed up against him

he thrusts back into your needy cunt, feeling him twitch and pulse inside you as you moaned softly in his arms. barely able to support yourself as he holds you caging you between his muscles and the bed. desperately rutting himself into you to prove to you how devoted he was, how he was yours just as much as you were his.

"look how pretty y'look sucking up my cock, lovie. s'fuckin gorgeous" he pants, words slurred completely drunk on your taste and feel of you. completely lost in the way your warm walls flutter around him, coaxing him to drive further into you. it had been days since he wwas able to have you and now that he was nearing the months where he'd go into heat, he found it hard to compose himself like he usually could

"m'gonna cum baby" he moans causing you to cling onto him, both of you lost in ecstasy. his senses are in overdrive, hips sloppily moving as he captures your lips against his groaning at the taste of you. you can feel him grow needy, stretching you over his thick knot that was already swelling. his release on the cusp but he refused to let go until you were with him, until you were properly claimed

"need to cum" you whimper back and it's only when your ankles loop around his back that he loses his composure, rutting into you like the depraved animal he was. he drives you closer, deeper, your senses completely overpowered just as his were

with one last deep thrust, ghost pushes his knot burying it deep inside you both as he sends the pair of you over the edge. it's thicker than you remember, bigger than you thought but somehow he managed to make it fit like he promised. he spills into you, not willing to let you come down from your high as he humps into you. a soft groan as his face settles in the crook of your neck, stroking your back softly his hands steadying your waist his cock trying to bury deep inside your willing hole.

"y'did so good f'me lovie" he kisses your skin, gazing down at you with pure adoration you've never been loved so tenderly like this before. there you were sprawled out on his knot, in his arms, against him safe and sound. he might've been a beast to others, untamed and unrule but to you he was your simon. your sweet man who'd maim and kill for you

"i love you" your voice is so soft, you both weren't going anywhere tonight. he needed this just as much as you did, your body against his as he lazily tugs the covers around you both pressing soft kisses up your neck and cheek.

"i love you" he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, settling down once more as he pulled you close to his chest. the soft beat of his heart lulling you asleep, his warmth better than any blanket could provide you with. you know deep down its only a matter of time before you both go af it again but until then you rest up, cuddling close to the man you loved deeply more than anything.

i kinda gave up halfway through this LMAO my bad hope you enjoyed !

[missmarveledsblog]

It's only pretend right? ( Bucky barnes x reader ) part one

summary : bucky (more so steve) agree's to be Y/N fake boyfriend for a week at her families ranch , he discovers his best friend left out some part that not all of her family is accepting of her but bucky is gonna be there every step to show them why she the best .

warnings : none well some shitty members of family , slow fast burn , idiots in love , mutual pining ,

A.N : this has been on back burner for so long so decided to let her out , sort of goofy love story some angst thrown in but mostly fluffy our dear bucky deserves that

The sun gleamed through  the sky as most of the team enjoyed the rare time off, that was until her screams rang out through the compound sending him to break out  into a sprint to the noise. He moved so fast it could have been compared to pietro maximoff  not that he cared for anything like that , not in these moments . Due to the universe and its cruel ongoing joke  , he was expecting the worst case scenario. Was she taken? , fighting against assailants? Was she hurt? It all came to his mind as he ran toward the source of the noise and yet in an instant that fear melted away when he heard her giggles and laughs looking in with now amusement. The sight was something James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t help smile so widely at .  There he watched as three  avengers stood like naughty children trying not to laugh at their own actions covered in ice cream and god knows what else. . 

“ Now pretty girl not so funny now is it?” Sam teased. 

“ What is going on here?” Bucky crossed his arms. 

“ Well little miss here thought it was funny when poor stevie here fell spilling ice cream all over himself” sam started. 

 “ Actually you laughed first. If I can remember , I may have given her something to laugh at. "Steve chuckled. 

“ He hit him right in the face with ice cream” she fell into Steve in a burst of laughter. “ So I showed her how it felt,”Sam nudged her.  

“ Literal children '' Tony rolled his eyes looking at the earth's mightiest heroes covered  head to toe in a now melted sweet treat.

 “ Hey in my defense I came in to make the team  something to  cool down. They insisted on helping” she held her hands up. 

“ Well that defense goes out the window when you're the one who tripped cap” tony smirked .

 “ you little..” Steve began chasing her . 

“ language” she giggled, rushing to get away from the super soldier which usually wasn’t an easy feat but the ice cream that covered the floor both helped and hindered her escape.

“ Bucky help” she ran into the men's arms , a  both sudden and most welcomed action. 

“ Leave my doll alone punk” he carried her out chuckling when he turned his head to see her sticking her tongue out at his best friend. 

 “Very mature” steve copied her action. 

“ Just friends my ass,” Sam called.

She didn’t hear the words , still now aimlessly talking about her sister's new dog but bucky heard. A phrase he wished he could say was fact but it wasn’t because they were just friends . How he wished he could call  the most beautiful being he’s ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on in all the years he’d been alive . how even something as hearing her voice made his worst days the best. How her laugh was in his own words definitely heaven sent. In four years , 2 with shield and 2 with the team  he had studied every detail of the woman at his side , first because he didn’t trust new people then it was because he actually wanted to get to know her , the more he found out the more he fell for her. All her mannerisms he knew so he could tell when she wasn’t having a great day and he made it his mission to make it better. How she bristled like a kitten at the sight of John Walker,  something he found in common and found adorable all in one. 

If anyone were to ask James Barnes to describe his perfect woman that description would have been Y/N L/N because to him she was perfect. How she cared so deeply about those around her friends , family or even a casualty in a mission. That soft , sweet side  along with the spitfire , kickass , stubborn and oh so sarcastic side that could rival stark in every way. She was serious when it came to missions but would be the first to cheer up and make everyone laugh after the mission . so it wasn’t hard at all for Bucky to fall for the woman. What he found hard was trying to express how he felt. When he went to tell her how he truly felt, suddenly he felt  like he had swapped bodies with pre-serum Steve back in the day or the spider kid. Words would sometimes fail to even come out his mouth which was better when the words jumbled or stuttered , a stumbling mess that ultimately shut him up changing the topic completely.

 “ So now I got the time off and all well I have to go for like a week and need to find a date in the next 24 hours” she sighed knocking the man back to earth completely confused to what she was talking about.

 “ Sorry, what doll?” he shook his head. 

“ My family reunion is a big deal sort of thing , my sister and brother both proposing to their girlfriends” she laughed . 

“ hey bucky can go… sorry” steve winced seeing her jumping at his sudden appearance. 

“ missions ?” she rolled her eyes.

 “ Thor and Loki will be here,” Steve shrugged.

 “ Well then settled i’ll be your date” bucky smiled awkwardly wanting to kiss his best friend's ass .

 “ wait really … oh my god thank you bucky i’ll make it up and promise not to be the world worst fake girlfriend , ok i gotta pack you should do the same, oh nat waiting for me and i need to shower” she beamed almost skipping off to  her room .

 “ i’ll help him out” steve called . 

 “ Your welcome jerk,” the blonde chuckled before walking ahead toward his best friend's room while the man in question tried computing what the hell happened .     

“ what the hell happened you” nat chuckled sitting on the bed looking  her best friend walking in covered in god know what.

 “ food fight with cap and bird brain” she shook her now stiff hair. 

“Steve tells me Bucky is going to be your fake boyfriend for the week” she wiggled her brows.

 “ yeah let me shower first and freak out about that after” she ran into the ensuite heart pounding.  Nerves coursing through her  as she had to pretend to be in love even though she was definitely not going to fake it.  Since day one of meeting James Buchanan Barnes , well had her hook line and sinker. How could he not the man would cause a nun to sin with how hot he was. Pair that up with caring , understanding and all around amazing well she never stood a chance. Now she was going to spend the week pretending , almost having a taste of what it would be like to be the one he called his .  even thinking of it made her knees weak and yet she shook it from her head knowing natasha was sitting outside on her bed. Scrubbing her hair as she giggled while sprinkles fell at her feet and enjoying the mobility of her hair again . 

While only across the hall Bucky Barnes was panicking as he thought of the whole thing once Steve filled him in on the conversation he missed .

 “ This is perfect. I mean you could  make this the week you confess and finally get your girl” the blonde beamed brightly.

 “ or completely screw up and lose her completely because let's be real with my life that is the most likely option” he pulled the case out. 

“ Aye my man finally got the girl '' Sam cheered as he walked into the room 

 '' One shut up she could hear you and two I'm a fake boyfriend” he hissed, shutting the door  . 

“ well put on a good show that she will want the real thing… not like that not already of the case” he mumbled .

 “ ok sit we can do this, '' Steve led him to the bed, pulling out clothes and a couple of suits .

 '' What if I screw this up so bad she’ll quit the team and I'll never see her again” he stood pacing while the other two men rolled their eyes .

 “ or you’ll see what we see '' Steve mumbled but the man before them was too lost in his head to pay attention  to the non stop hints they tried to but he never did so it wasn’t anything new .

  “ ok so the clothes end will be sorted and tony agreed to the time off well he told me to tell you not to waste it” steve smirked before heading off into the bathroom . “ Clint said he can drop you both off before he heads home so flights are covered,” Sam added . 

“ Ok man, think of this week , where you don’t have to hide those feelings where you can act around her like you’ve always wanted to act” Sam turned, seeing Bucky still freaked out. 

“ What if I make her uncomfortable?” he asked. 

 “ i’m not saying bang her on the spot  i mean little thing like when your trying to hide the fact you stare at her like stark looks at his suits or pepper” sam rolled his eyes.

 “ he’s right Stark loves those suits and you love Y/N'' Steve teased throwing the bag of toiletries into the suitcase.

 “ this can be good … or it's going to be a complete disaster” .

“ how the hell am i going to do this… is it too late to fake my death and start a new life” she asked pacing while Nat and now wanda took the task to pack her suitcase.

“ No faking your death” nat rolled her eyes as wanda giggled .

 “ how the hell am i going to convince my parents i’m with bucky but not scare off my best friend… male best friend” she corrected herself after nat shot her a look. 

 “ Be the way you guys are already,” Wanda winked.

“ be serious here i don’t want to lose my best friend.. You know what i mean” she rolled her eyes at nat. 

“ You won't ok ,  you couldn’t lose Bucky even if you tried. '' Nat smiled softly  just like the guys, the woman before them was completely oblivious to what was in front of her.

 "I'd cancel but i can’t miss my brother and sister's engagement .. to separate people we ain’t that far down south '' she clarified  hearing the words coming out her mouth . “ We know what you mean , look, just use the time to get the taste of the experience” nat said. 

“ Maybe your eyes will finally see,” Wanda whispered under her breath.

 “ hopefully we can sell it enough so my aunts and uncles finally stop with their matchmaking and finally like me   i mean one of their blind dates brought me to a strip club was fun i mean  he even gave me my own ones but that doesn’t scream marry me , ”she winced as the two women fell into a fit of laughter. 

“ Is that why I keep finding glitter on you?” Nat wiped tears from her eyes.

 “ Yeah, that courtesy of candy , we’re friends on facebook , great gal was gonna hire her for peter's birthday next month actually ” she smiled. 

“ You'll kill the kid,” Wanda snorted. 

“ Hey, death by candy is a way to go,”she winked. 

“ You realize she and Peter are the same age and now i don’t know if you want bucky or candy” nat teased. 

“ Ok enough on my bi curiosities of my new stripper friend , how am i going to survive a week of pretending to be in love but not in love with my best friend … nat stop glaring you know what i mean” . 

 “ This is gonna kill me”she fell back onto the bed. 

Ten minutes he must have been standing at the door paralyzed nerves taking over and words escaping his mind to why he was there. 

 “ Just knock man this is pitiful , to think this is the once feared winter soldier can’t even knock on chicks door” tony rolled his eyes as bucky glared at the man. “ oh for fuck sake , thank me later terminator , don’t screw it up” was all the billionaire said before thumping the door and running off a bucky stood looking down the hall to contemplate how this was his life.

 “ fucking asshole should of kill him instead of how… how are you doll you busy” he caught himself as she looked puzzled at the man. He could hear the laughs before the two women came to view .

 “ shes all your barnes” nat winked letting him only confirm more people were aware of his feelings .

 “ Tell candy we say hello” Wanda snorted as she followed Nat down the hall. “Candy?” he arched his brow. 

“ my new erm .. stripper friend .. come in “ she cleared her throat trying to ignore the glint in his eyes when she said it.

 “ what… actually tell me another time I'm here to go over a back story like the way we do on missions so I don't say the wrong thing or we get caught out” he smiled softly as her own feature light up at the suggestion . 

“ You clever son of a bitch” she danced excitedly. The little drawl in her voice came out more when she was either happily excited or pissed off. 

“ i didn’t even think of that , i mean you’ve met my parents not my siblings so sorry for that .. you’ll understand when you meet them” she snorted leading him into the room and toward her sofa . 

“ Ok so obviously we met at work which I think my mom and dad just wanna prove i am actually an avenger” she chuckled. 

“ Who asked who out?” he asked softly.

 “Well I mean you asked me out cause if my aunts think the other way around they will think you're desperate or held hostage they have old way of thinking on somethings” she winced.

 “ Ok deal , how long have we been together?” he asked . 

“ Six months it's not too long to wonder why we aint been announced and not too short for you to meet the family” she nodded.

 “ PDA” he coughed, hiding the nervous break in his voice.

 “ Whatever you're comfortable with, we don’t have to go full PDA  so I won't jump you during family dinner” she teased . “ Well I mean we cuddle and hold hands all time so that part ain’t so hard right ” she added her cheeks flushing.

 “ No, it's a fine doll, I mean it’s kinda handy knowing all about you , well I thought I did until the whole stripper thing” he laughed.

 “ Hey candy is an artist and everything huh? My my bucky barnes i didn’t know you were a fan” she teased . 

“ says the one with 50 pictures next to my exhibit” he countered .

 “ Hey, it's not my fault bird brain can't take a good picture anyway, shut it before I can  switch you out with candy” she stuck her tongue out .

 “ I mean you could but do they know her like they know me” he asked . 

“ unless they frequent strip clubs when they visit.. Ok i grossed myself out”she scrunched up her nose at the thought while bucky though she was the cutest thing to ever exist.

 "Go on doll hit the hay Clint is bringing us so you know it’s going to be early as hell” he stood kissing  her head  before walking out the room while she in turn fell on to the bed knowing the star of the dreams she was going to have was just across the hall.

next part

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[etherealily]

guilt // f.odair

[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.

Desc. : But is it in his nature?

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.

See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.

You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.

One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.

However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.

And you hated Finnick all the more for it.

Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.

You couldn't respect him.

But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.

And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.

"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.

"It's nice."

He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."

Click.

"And this is for..."

"Modelling."

"For the Capitol?"

"Who else?"

You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.

"I'm joking. It's for me."

"For you?"

"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."

"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"

"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."

"What will you do with the pictures?"

"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."

Thank fuck.

"Why me?"

"You're a good subject."

Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.

"I'm a subject? Like... math?"

He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.

"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."

"Oh."

He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"

"It's pretty."

"So are you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.

You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"

"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."

"You've had it for almost a decade?"

He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."

"What was it like, though? When you won?"

"Won? Won what?"

"The Games."

"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."

"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."

You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.

You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"

The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.

A white rose.

It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.

In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.

"They're pretty nice."

"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."

"I don't know what else to say."

He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."

That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.

"What?"

He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."

"What? No."

"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."

"Yeah, because I was clothed."

"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"

What?!

"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."

"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."

"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."

'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."

You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.

Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.

Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.

"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."

You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"

That scares you more. "What?"

"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.

As if your answer would change his self perception.

"Please don't kill my family."

"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"

"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"

Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"

Well, of course.

"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."

He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.

"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."

Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.

But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.

"Wasn't planning to."

"Don't tell anyone about today."

"Wasn't planning to."

"Stay."

Wasn't planning to.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."

The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."

"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."

Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.

"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."

"What's that?"

"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."

"What's chicken?"

"Another kind of bird."

"Oh."

He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"

"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."

He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."

You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.

~~~~

Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.

Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.

You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.

"It's really fucking good."

He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"

"Doesn't everyone, always?"

He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"

CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?

"Sure."

That was divine, too.

"You like that, too?"

"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."

"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."

Was that... disdain? Interesting.

"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."

He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"

You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."

"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."

You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"

He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.

Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.

"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."

Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.

"You should come and wave me off."

"Do we know each other well enough for that?"

"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"

Yes. Little Faye.

"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."

The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.

"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."

"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.

"She's a Career."

"Yes, but can she?"

"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?

You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.

So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.

Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.

Considering you'd only known each other one night.

Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'

Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.

Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.

Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.

~~~~

You can't bring yourself to watch the news.

Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.

But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.

It's because of Faye.

"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.

"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"

"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."

Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.

You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.

As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.

As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.

And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.

Dimples.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.

You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."

You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."

"Not in it?"

"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."

"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.

"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.

Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.

Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.

"What's that look?"

He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.

"What's that look?", you repeat.

"What look?"

"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.

"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.

He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.

Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry. What do you think?"

"I look like the 12 escort."

"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.

"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.

That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.

He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.

"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"

"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."

You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.

He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.

And then he does it.

His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.

He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.

You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"

"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Mhm."

"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"

"No, for Faye."

Silence. "Oh."

"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."

"You can see her."

You can what?

"When?"

"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"

"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"

"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."

You nod.

He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"

He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."

~~~~

The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.

"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.

He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.

"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."

It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.

But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.

"Where is she?"

"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.

The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.

"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.

"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."

"How much did I have on her?"

"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."

"Fine, fine, but now how much?"

The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.

"Finnick?"

He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.

"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.

"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"

Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."

Can also swim. Fuck.

"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.

Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.

There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.

Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.

The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.

"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.

"What if something pulled her under?"

Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.

"I'm sure it's just a strategy."

One that he remembers teaching her.

Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.

For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.

The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.

And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.

He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the midlly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.

Suddenly, it stops.

Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.

A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.

Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.

Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.

No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.

Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.

[twst-hottest-takes]

Tweel Anatomy Discussion!

Part 2.

(Finally getting around to this! Link to part 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/twst-hottest-takes/759029788153446400/tweel-anatomy-discussion?source=share )

And first off a big "Thank You" to everyone who encouraged me to write the first part and who seemed to have enjoyed it. I'm happy my pseudo-scientific ramblings about fantasy anatomy make you happy!

As always: The following post will be almost purely conjecture based off of a combination of reality and fiction. None of what I say should be taken as law, but rather a fun series of hypotheticals, as that is what the game gives us to work with.

Before getting to the promised screed on "throat teeth" I'll be addressing a couple of subjects people asked about in the comments of the first post! I'll be paraphrasing, but if the people who asked wish to be credited directly, let me know and I will tag you!

First: What does Floyd mean when he threatens to "squeeze" people?

As the comment pointed out, eels (moray or not) don't seem to constrict their prey. The word "constrict" is often associated with how many species of snakes trap and suffocate their prey before swallowing it whole. In this manner, morays do not constrict anything to speak of, BUT THEY DO TIE THEMSELVES INTO KNOTS!

Commonly this behavior is used when an eel has a piece of prey that is too big to swallow all at once, so they tie themselves into a knot to get a better "grip" on their prey and tear it into more manageable pieces! A knot can also be a defensive measure to hide or protect an eel's head from potential enemies. (Looking up "Moray Eel knots" should give you a much better idea of this behavior.) In the case of Floyd Leech, I think that the term "squeeze" is meant to reference Flotsam and Jetsam's behavior in The Little Mermaid. They "squeeze" Flounder and Sebastain to prevent them from stopping Ariel from making her deal with Ursula, and also wrap around Ariel's arms to restrain her later in the movie when the deal is up. These are pretty cartoonish behaviors that wouldn't be seen in real eels as they appear in the movie which seems to treat them a lot like "sea snakes" in this way. I think Floyd's "squeeze" is meant to be a serious threat when considering what eels do to things they tie up in their knots, but it does seem to evoke a mental image of a python rather than an eel.

Secondly, the user questions how Floyd would manage to build up his arm muscles so much.

Simply speaking, Floyd's bare arms are only a matter of fanservice. He's not really "buff."

The muscles are just very well-toned. While Floyd's "mercurial moods" don't allow him to commit to things like workout routines, he's still more active than not. Doing things like basketball, dancing, or parkour with any kind of regularity will give his arms that toned look, at least as far as his human form goes. In regards to his merman form, Floyd probably did similar things that shaped his muscles this way, but didn't build them up much past average.

Thirdly, another user asked me to touch on the boys' habitat as them being residents of the apparently cold and dark Coral Sea doesn't line up with the natural habitats of moray eels in real life that live in tropical waters.

Unfortunately, I don't have any particularly fun insights into this topic because I think that's just something added to better suit the part of the game based off of The Little Mermaid. Azul and the twins are meant to be intimidating and a little mysterious, so they come from a deep, dark, cold part of the ocean that holds scary and mysterious things. Bearing in mind that merfolk are fantasy creatures, I don't find the contradiction of where you would find eels versus where the twins are from to be especially bad in terms of world building. It may not be entirely thought through, but they are taking inspiration from the Disney movie, and keeping true to it's inspiration probably came first.

(Honestly, the thing that gets me is how they said they couldn't go home because the sea froze over. As if the mirror couldn't transport them directly into the ocean underneath all the ice! I swear the writing in this game sometimes.)

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: LET'S TALK ABOUT PHARYNGEAL JAWS!

Quick explanation: Pharyngeal jaws are a second set of teeth in the back of a fish's throat. They are notable on moray eels, but they aren't the only fish that have them. The function of the throat teeth is for them to jut forward and grab onto whatever food the fish has bitten into and then retract and drag the food down the esophagus far enough for peristalsis to take over and continue the swallowing normally. (Yes, I used the first picture that showed up on the web search. It's from Wikipedia)

Do I think the Leech Twins have pharyngeal jaws?

The short answer is unfortunately: "NO."

The long answer involves more of our favorite subject: Discussing how realistic anatomy and fantasy physiology can coexist. (Spoiler alert: The long answer is still unfortunately: "NO.")

Logically and anatomically speaking it makes no sense for Floyd and Jade to have them. First and foremost, even if they did somehow have them in their merforms (which is far more plausible) they wouldn't have them in their every day human forms. The shortcoming of human anatomy is that we have a windpipe, and a second set of teeth back in our throats would suffocate us any time they would need to be used. Instead, we, like most of the animal kingdom, have tongues that push food back to be swallowed and have no need for extra jaws to crawl up and pull food down. Likewise, the twins clearly have tongues, and although they keep their primary teeth in tact between their two forms, have no need for a secondary set. Furthermore, I would posit that pharyngeal jaws in their human forms would be just plain dangerous as in the case of accidentally crushing your own windpipe. They breathe air, therefore they don't have gills, therefore they have lungs and a trachea for gas exchange, and therefore no room for throat teeth.

If the twins were to have pharyngeal jaws, it would make the most sense for them to have them exclusively in their aquatic forms. Because they breathe through gills around their ribs (see part 1) there would be much more room for a second set of teeth and the accompanying anatomical equipment. However, again, I am forced by my own logic to concede that they would still be unnecessary. Between all of the visual proof and the fact that the twins speak the common language fluently enough to have no communication issues with the land dwellers, we know for a fact that they have tongues--much like in their human forms--and that would negate the need or use for pharyngeal jaws. Moreover the humanoid head and neck structure on them in both forms would make the use of pharyngeal jaws pointless, if not explicitly dangerous (having a curved esophagus, as opposed to a straight line as in fish).

In conclusion; as much as this is a disappointment to admit, it would seem that the twins do in fact only require and as a result have a single set of teeth.

However, I will end this particular essay off with one sliver of hope.

It is implied in the text of the game that the twins were hatched from eggs. If their formation from egg to "adult" merman is anything similar to a fish's then it is possible that they once had a second set of jaws. Perhaps in an earlier stage of their development their bodies and mouths were positioned differently and they hadn't quite grown tongues yet, so a pair of extra jaws would have been particularly handy. As they became fully developed these jaws would have been lost, reabsorbed, or simply become vestigial remains as a result of no longer being of use. So while it's not logical to imagine that the twins currently have pharyngeal jaws, there's nothing that says we can't imagine that they did at some point.

(A small consolation to those of us who really would have liked that addition to their characters because we just think it would have been really really cool. Logic be darned, I still love to see fanart that depicts the two of them having throat teeth.)

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a bit more of my obsessive ramblings regarding fantasy anatomy!

This one took a while to put together because I wanted to make sure I had a visual representation of what I was talking about regarding the placement and effect of pharyngeal jaws in a humanoid form. . .so you guys get to see a very rough drawing of what I was talking about (along with a sample of my awful handwriting). I hope that was helpful and not too difficult to understand. I have been very tired lately and ended up putting a few ask responses on hold because I REALLY wanted to get this part out. A good number of people have apparently been looking forward to this, and I felt bad for making everyone wait for so long.

Will there be a third part?

Well as of right now I don't have one planned. But if some fun conversations start regarding what I've said here, there may end up being enough stuff to include in a third post. I didn't have much to say regarding things like warm or cold-bloodedness, or coloration and bioluminescence. However, if people want to talk about those kinds of things I will gladly delve more into them as long as there are people to talk to about it. But for now, that'll be all for this subject!

Now we can get back to the inbox!

(Once again going to sleep thinking about how awesome these mer-eel designs are and how I love all the sparkles!)

[head-empty-just-ace]

PART III: Dates & Kisses! w/ Usopp, Yamato, and Jinbei

FINALLY, posting this after centuries of delays and side quests. It's somewhat unfair that I enjoyed writing these three the most??? Pretty obvious with the word count. Barely editted— I'm sorry.

CW: None. Fluff, pining, dates, and kisses.

Word Count: 4.2k

Usopp

Carnival

You weren't an idiot. The moment Usopp started bragging about something, you knew it was a lie. Or at least an extreme exaggeration of the truth behind it.

And yet you always listened to him as if they were real. That's why he always loved your company. It wasn't just you nodding along and letting him do as he pleased.

Usopp not so secretly fawned over the way you would ask him questions about his stories, listening to him with rapt attention, that warm and playful smile on your lips, and how you would laugh at his jokes.

Even when you knew he was lying about more serious topics, you wouldn't really say anything but you would have this look in your eyes that said 'I know you're lying but I'm not really gonna judge' and he would always cave in and spill the beans.

There were times that Usopp would go and brag about his experince with women. You thought he was just flat out lying this time, but he actually does have experience. And you felt a little jealous over that.

So, eventually, you actually teased him about it. That if he was so experienced then he should take you on a date and impress you with all that supposed 'lady killer' charisma he has (his words, not yours).

Oh, boy. The man malfunctioned as he just gawked at you. His jaw ajar and eyes slightly widened. It takes a while before he regains himself and start stumbling his own words to plan it out with you.

The two of you were so cute. Exchanging sheepish glances, teasing each other, and planning it all out together.

Did the two of you talk about matching outfits?

No? Well, look at the two of you having coordinated outfits when the two of you meet up just outside the carnival. The two of you laughed over it almost immediately. You tease him for copying you while he goes on with his hidden psychic abilities.

The two of you are too cute.

The carnival was fairly packed by the time you guys went in. Maybe, just a little too crowded if anything. There are quite a few times that one of you lost track of the other because of the crowd.

As much as Usopp just wanted to casually hold your hand and brag about letting him take the lead so you'd never get lost, he felt too flustered.

You were already going on a date with him. Would you consider it as being too forward and be creeped out by him? He didn't want to risk that so he somehow managed to get this durable string. With a shy smile, he started to tie one end around your wrist and the other end around his own.

"This way, you'll be able find your way back to me even if you get lost again." Usopp tried to be confident while point a thumb to himself with a boyish grin on his face.

A chuckle leaves your lips as you look at your wrist with a warm smile. You simply nod along and the both of you wennt back to your merry way through the stalls of games and foods. There was even an area where a performer started blowing fire into the air.

While watching, Usopp tells you the tale of how he went to Hawaii to be trained in blowing fire just like that by a great grandmaster at the age of 7.

"Oh, yeah? Why don''t you show off a few skills then?" You nudge his side with your elbow. A playful smile and that mischievious gling in your eyes. "I'm sure it's do you good to put those skills to practice again." He bristles at your words and turns his head to the side in response. A nervous chuckle on his lips as he starts fumbling for excuses.

"Uhm...I-uh..It's rude to take away a guy's job like that y'know?" His eyes snapping every which way just to not look at you. "A-Ah, there is goes. My 'Don't do dangerous things' illness is back! Let's go somewhere else! I heard they have horses!" And with that, he actually reaches out to grab your hand to tug you away from the performer.

You shake your head with an affectionate smile but follow him nonetheless. Feeling a little brave, you intertwine your fingers with his to hold his hand properly. He's a bit in front of you but you notice the way that his ears are a touch of crimson despite his tanned skin as well as how he squeezes your hand in response.

Oh, he adored showing off around the shooting stalls. Clearing out everything for you that some of the owners questioned his skill since many of the games were rigged. By the end of it, you picked out your favorites and gave away some others to the nearby kids who just stared at the prizes you had with their eyes shining brightly.

However, there was a certain incident that dampened the mood. The two of you entered a circus to enjoy the show. There was a time in the show that a circus master was performing a few tricks. Usopp started to brag about how he was able to do it well. But the circus master was not pleased with that.

A few taunts later, it ended him on the stage and failing to do what he was talking about. Feeling ashamed as he walked back to you-- he couldn't even look you in the eyes the whole time. You weren't really sure what else to say at the time.

He looked so down and ashamed, as if he'd rather be swallowed by the ground than to face you.

The two of you are exiting the tent of the circus. Usupp knew you were concerned over his mood. So, he tried making the mood light by cracking a few jokes but his smile just didn't reach his eyes. It was obvious that the incident still bothered him.

That's when you hear about the bonfire. How there was music and drinks being given around the bonfire. With a bright smile, you hold his hand and nod your head towards the direction of the said bonfire gathering. Unable to really say no to you, he follows along. You got him a drink to help him ease up a bit and guided him near the bonfire.

"C'mon! Didn't you tell me that you were once the champion of a dancing competition in Spain?" You tease him playfully. The fact you even remember the tales he talks abou was enough to coax out a genuine smile on his face.

Usopp musters up some of his gusto back and leads the dance with you. Ofc, it ends with both of you stepping on each other's feet as you sway along the joyous tune of the music. Despite it all, both of your laughters tuned in with the merry atmosphere of the crowd.

You were smiling and laughing at his jokes so much that your cheeks were aching.

At some point, the music changes into a slow and sweet tune. He swallows visibly as he pulls you closer to him until your bodies are pressed against each other. A shiver runs down his spine when he notices how your breath hitched. Your gaze meeting his.

As cliche as it seems, it truly seemed like the world came to a stop. Leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment alone.

The way that the fire lit your face with that warm color has his mind shortcuiting. All he can focus on the way that he just had to memories every detail so that he'd always remember this moment. Have it seared behind his eyelids so that he'd see even with his eyes closed.

Both of you lean closer to each other. Neither utter a word as if scared that it would shatter the tension in the air. Lips are inches away from touching. He couldn't resist it. Not when you breathed out his name with that voice of yours. Usopp leaned in to finally close the distance.

He melts into the kiss. Its a tender kiss that almost seems as if its the first time, pulling you impossibly closer as if willing you to never let the moment end. You didn't want to. However, the lungs have needs for air. So, you reluctantly pull away to press a kiss on his cheek.

You two stay like that for a while. Simply holding each other as you two sway along to the tune of the music. Still feeling awkward with the tension, he occassionally cracks a small joke to get you to laugh. And he adores it that you bless him with it.

Yamato

Mountain Trekking

Yamato had been travelling all over the world. Enjoying the sights and sceneries as he went from one place to another. And you were a local at his current destination.

He got lost somewhere on the marketplace. Sure, he knew a bit of the language but it was complicated and made communication difficulty. Yamato had been asking random people only to feel even more lost by the second.

That's where you come along. Since you were multi-lingual— he treated you as if you were an angel sent from heaven to help him out.

Both of you got along quick. Your banters, jokes, and gentle guidance made his heart flutter in his chest. His crush on you wasn't much of a secret.

After exchanging contacts, you guided him around local areas and even spots that weren't well known to tourists. Deep dwelling caves with silk worms glowing in the ceiling, ceremonies and events tied to your culture, and local delicacies that left him craving even more.

Yamato would find excuses to call you. Saying he got lost again and had no idea where to go just to hear your voice again. If you actually showed up, he'd do his best to treat you in exchange of the effort.

Eventually, he heard of a certain rumor. That if a couple would climb to the peak of the nearby mountain and watch the sunrise together— they'd love each other 'till the end of time.

Ofc, he tried to be discreet in asking you to go there with him. Tried. But the guy was stumbling over his words and had this flustered look on his face.

Who was he kidding? You were a local. Obviously, you'd know about the rumor. But they way you still agreed had him whooping loudly with that face-splitting grin on his face

Yamato acted like an overprotective parent days before the supposed trek.

Hh

He'd tell you to get proper sleep, healthy meals, and keep yourself well hydrated. On the day of the trek, he made sure you had all your items with you. Though it bordered on overbearing, you just chuckled and tease him over it. He's a big guy. Taller than most people that he could easily be used as a landmark at some point.

Oh, how he loved it whenever you would stand on your toes to pinch his cheek. Sometimes, he'd even lower his head whenever you reached out to pat his head. He would preen excitedly while you teased him not make such a fuss over you. Throughout the trek, he'd made sure your comfort and safety were his top priority. Although with that being said, he still wannted you to enjoy the sights without making you feel smothered by his presence. You'd even teach him small things about your town's tradiations and paying respects as you walk through the trail. Whenever he sensed you felt tired, he'd let you take a break. Since Yamato was fairly taller than you, he made sure to slow down his pace so you could keep a comfortable pace with him. Especially as the two of you trekked highed into the mountain.

The altitude sickness slowly affecting you and your pace throughout the trek. He'd sit you down somewhere and kneel before you. Yamato would hold your hands in his and brush his thumbs over the back of your hand. "Hey, it's alright. We can take a break, catch our breath and continue when you feel better." Yamato tugs your hand closer to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. Concern visible in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "If it doesn't go away, we can go down. I want you to have fun on this trek." Just as usual, you'd pat his head and thank him for his concern.

After resting, both of you would continue your trek. There was a riverbank you two had to cross just a little distance— he'd insist that you'd get on his back.

He'd jump over the steps and you'd cling to him while reminding him to be careful. Both you would end up laughing when he did slip but he made sure you weren't even touching the water. However, some of the luggage got soaked— which included your sleeping bag. It was already getting late and the only place to camp at was the peak of the mountain which was so close within reach. So, the two of you decided to just proceed.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long to reach the peak and make camp there. Yamato was already stationed by the campfire to warm up a bit before helping you set the tent. Your sleeping bag was still soaking wet and neither of you had an extra. It was freezing cold. So, the obvious answer was to share a sleeping bag with Yamato.

Both of you were now blushing messes as you tucked in for the night. Was it really surprising to wake up with your back against his chest while his arm was wrapped around your waist?

No. Obviously. His warm breath fanning against your hair, thumb absentmindedly brushing against your side, and he pulls you a bit closer to him when you try to wriggle away.

Despite how badly you wanted to stay there like that with him but the point of the trek was to watch the sunrise together. And checking the time on your watch meant that it was going to happen anytime soon. Surprisingly, he was compliant when you woke him up. Though your heart did skip a bit when he nodded off to a quick nap and rested his head against your shoulder. You practically had to drag him out by the hand to get set up outside the tent.

Given his still sleepy state, he had you sit between his legs while he hugged you from behind all because he noticed you shiver from a breeze that passed by. His chin settled at the top of your head as both of you would watch the sun peaking through the horizon.

It was a beautiful sight that it took your breath away with ease. A bright smile on your lips as you lean back against his frame.

Though, a part of you knew this was only temporary. That itself dampened your mood for a moment. "I'll come back," Yamato mumbles against your hair, as if sensing your mood. It makes a shaky breath leave your lips.

You knew that he wanted to continue travelling and that this should have just been a quick fleeting encounter. But his words made hope bloom in your chest. Yamato brings up his hand to guide your face to face him. His head tilted slightly to look at you. There was a bright smile on him. It looked so bright that it chased away the shadows of doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.

With a shaky breath, you lean closer to him and press a kiss against his lips. It was a chaste kiss that had him chasing after your lips when yo pulled away. "Promise?" You mumble, lips brush against his with every syllable. It sends a shiver down his spine.

"Promise." He echoes with determination as he kisses you. This time, its more affectionate and sensual. You turn your body to kiss him better. He gladly hums in response and deepens the kiss. "I'll come back. Always." Yamato mumbles against your lips before pressing one last kiss, content in holding you and lpressing kisses against your skin whenever temptation struck as the both of you watch over the sunset.

Jinbei

Cherry Blossom Viewing

Jinbei's the classic cute guy-next door. That was your initial impressionof him when he helped you out while you moved in. It was a new town and everyone was a new face to you. And he lent you a hand with a warm and reassuring smile on his face.

He was friendly despite the intimidating look he had on his face. There was something about the way that he would always give you a smile whenever you two bump into each other in the apartment.

There were times that he was the one who would help you out whenever you needed someone fixing up thing at your place. Hell, he even went out of his way to pick you up when it was late into the night and the rain was pouring heavily bc you forgot your umbrella.

As thanks, you'd offer him to come over and make him dinner. He absolutely adored your food. Always eating it with absolute delight and praising your food each time.

It was a bit of a slow burn. There was that warm and relaxing feeling in your chest as you slowly came to appreciate his presence more and more.

The same goes for him. There would be times where he'd go an extra step further in helping you adjust in town, that you felt safe there, and making sure that gorgeous smile on your face would remain on your face.

It was while the two of you were enjoying some snacks after he just repaired the leaking faucet in your sink. You brought up the topic of how you always wanted to live in that town because of the cherry blossoms.

Jimbei takes note of this and invites you to watch the cherry blossoms with him when the season comes around. You teased him if he was asking you on a date. Which immediately made the poor guy a flustered mess.

Saying that if only that was something you wanted and that he wouldn't dare to force you into going with him if you didn't want to. Well, obviously, you told him that you'd absolutely love that. How you were already looking forward to making the snacks you guys would have by then.

Just like that, the sands of the hourglass trickled down, and the seasons changed.

It was the talk of the town by then. Ceremonies and festivities were held to celebrate the cherry blossoms. It had always been a custom in the town. You and Jinbei had already planned everything out so that it would all go smoothly. You were now waiting for him by the agreed meeting place. A picnic basket held in your hands as you watched the clusters of cherry blossom trees in the near distance with awe. There was a fair amount of crowd gathering around the area in order to witness the beauty of it. It doesn't take long before you hear a familiar voice calling out your name. And there he was. Jinbei was making his way towards you with that warm smile on his face that always made your heart flutter in your chest. You return it with a smile of your own. Jinbei's eyes fall on your outfit and his eyes seem to shine a little brighter. You looked breathtaking. By then, he knew that he'd rather just enjoy the view before him than the cherry blossoms (Though, ofc, he'd never actually say that to you out loud. He'll keep it as a little secret.) He takes the basket from you to carry it himself. Not that he didn't think you'd be able to carry it. He was well-aware of your capabilities. He simply wanted to be of service.

And being you, there's no way you didn't tease him a bit for it. Enjoying the usually composed facade on his face falter a bit with a bashful expression. There was always something about the way he responded to your teasing made you want to keep doing it even more. Well, it did occassionally catch you off-guard whenever he chimes back witha teasing remark of his own.

In truth, he did enjoy those playful moments even though it left him feeling quite...flustered. The walk to the cherry blossom trees was filled with easy conversation. It always was. It seemed so calming being in his presence. There was no pretense to worry over. As if he'd accept you as you were no matter what. If anything, he made you feel safe and comfortable in his presence.

That was something you adored most about him. When the two of you spot a nice area, Jinbei helped out with preparing everything. The two of you are situated under a cherry blossom tree with a good view of the river and nearby park.

What a picturesque scene it made. Soft pink of the petals dance gracefully in the wind. The weather was perfect as well. Nothing too cloudly nor sunny. Jinbei always paid rapt attention to whatever you talked about. Be it from the most mundane parts of your days or the amusing tales you had stored in your memory. He accepted each one and kept it close to him. Wondering maybe it would be his own way to become a bit closer to you as well. "This is amazing as always." He muses while taking another bite of the sandwich you made. Most of the food you made for the picnic were his favorites. Making sure you made them just the way he always liked it as. And his compliments never fail to make butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Well, they do say that the best way to a man's heart is through their stomach." You tease with a playful wink at his direction. Oh, boy. Jinbei immediately choked on his food because of that. The flustered expression blatant all over your face. Part of you couldn't help but chuckle at his response while you hand him a drink while patting his back soothingly. It takes a while for him to compose himself as well.

By the end of it, he does try to regain some dignity by clearing his throat and changing the topic to something else. Hours pass by like it was nothing in each other's presence. Laughs and conversations were exchanged. And by then, it was sundown.

The way that the hues of orange and red painted the sky along with the touch of pink cherry blossom petals was something you wanted to engrave in your memory. The gentle breeze caresses your hair and blows wisps of it as though it were playing with the strands.

It was perfect. And all the while, Jinbei couldn't help but stare at you. Gods, he'd never get tired of the sight of you smiling so warmly like that. You looked so peaceful. A cherry blossom petal lands on your hair, and he reaches out to brush it away.

There's that look of adoration on his face that he couldn't hide even if he tried. His touch doesn't go unnoticed by you. You turn your gaze to meets his. And the way he looks at you immediately steals your breath. He looked at you as though nothing held equal value. All the longing and affection he held for you were laid bare at that moment. And by the gods did his heart swell at the your cheeks turned a delightful shade of blush. Jinbei reaches out his hand to brush away a strand of your hair behind your ear. His heart fills fit to burst with the way you lean into his touch.

For a moment, he simply takes in the sight of you like that. Taking a leap of faith, he leans in by fraction. Anticipation builds in his chest as he notices the way your breath hitched. Gaze flickers down to your lips before looking deep into your eyes. You can't help but lean in even closer. Lips inches away from his. The warmth of his breath fans against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. Your eyes flutter close and you lean in. He closes in that final gap to capture your lips with his. The two of you melt into the kiss. Lips moving languidly with each other's. His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer to him and you gladly let him.

When the kiss ends, there's that lovesick smile on both your faces. A soft chuckle leaves your lips as you lean against him to rest your head against his shoulder. There was something so inexplicably intimate abt it. A comfortable silence falls between the both of you like a warm blanket. Indulging in his presence with the serene and picturesque sight of the cherry blossom trees. It was something your were sure you'd remember for as long as possible.

~~~~~~~

And that's all for the main event, folks! I will post another for other characters but they will be much shorter than this series (might take me another century to post tho...).

Here's my masterlist to check out my other works!

[coquitokisses]

Heyy! Idk if you ever wrote something like this and if you don’t want to it’s fine but I had been obsessed with this idea of Steve dating a Taylor swift level of famous artist. And like they were keeping their relationship private from everyone until some paparazzi caught them together somewhere and the internet goes crazy with “miss americana and the america's golden boy” (iykyk)

Miss Americana and America's Golden Boy | Steve Rogers

Pairings: Steve Rogers x singer!female reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, fluff and fluff lol

Word count: 568 (kinda short lol)

Summary: Reader and Steve have been dating for a few months now but for obvious reasons, they made the relationship public just yet because of their jobs. But those plans go to hell when some paparazzis get pictures of you and Steve.

A/n: hiii love! First of all, thank you so much for sending this and second, sorry I took so long to answer it, I had no idea how or what to write lmao but I finally took the time to think about something and just do it! I’m still not very convinced, but I think it’s kinda cute so here it is! (hope I was able to bring your idea to life lol <3 )

« The internet goes crazy after seeing pictures of Y/N Y/L/N with none other than Captain America walking out of a cafe! »

« America’s golden boy, Steve Rogers, spotted leaving a coffee shop in New York with the singer Y/N Y/L/N yesterday morning. »

« Captain America is no longer single and neither is our beloved Y/N Y/L/N! Both have been spotted walking out of a coffee shop in New York holding hands! »

“You’re fucking joking.” You stared at your phone shocked, you just wanted to scream

“You need to calm down.” Steve said

“Calm down?!” You turned to look at him “We’re everywhere! Everyone is talking about us!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Are you aware of this? We’re two very recognized persons, do you know what people are gonna be saying?” You sat on the bed feeling very overwhelmed

Now on every event and everywhere you go the questions that everyone’s gonna be asking are about your relationship with Mr. Captain America.

“You have a lot of fans, they’re just gonna hate me.” You sighed

“Says the girl who’s been in the eye of fame for a decade.” He tilted his head slightly “If they’re gonna hate someone, is probably gonna be me.”

“Are you kidding? You’re America’s hero! Everybody loves you, babe.”

“And you’re one of the most listened and talented artists in the world, people love you too.” He said sitting next to you “And besides, I think it was time to tell the world, everyone at the compound was starting to get suspicious.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little because you knew that it was true, he has told you millions of times how Bucky or Natasha, even Tony, were questioning him about where he was at or why he always sneaked out and came back late at night.

“Yeah, it was probably time.” You looked at him and he just gave you a sweet little smile that made you feel a little better

You really couldn’t believe that you were dating the Captain America, it was absolutely crazy to even think about it. And he also couldn’t believe that he was dating you. One of the most recognized singers in the whole world.

You met at one of Tony’s parties about a year ago and you had such a blast that night that you exchanged numbers and started talking. Obviously you both wanted to keep the relationship private because of your jobs. Of course you were planning on making it public, but just, not now and not like this.

“It’s just that it was nice to have you all to myself.” You say with a shrug

He smiled. “You still have me all to yourself.”

“But now the world knows and it’s not gonna be the same.” You pouted

“Yeah, I know, honey.” He put your hair behind your ear

“Are you sure you still want to date a singer? The fans can be a little crazy about who I date.. sorry about that.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I’m very sure.” He nodded

“Ready to start answering questions about us everywhere you go?”

“Are you?” He cocked an eyebrow at you

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m so ready to brag about being Mr. America’s girlfriend.” You replied and he smiled

“So let’s do this, miss America.” He grabbed your hand and deposited a soft kiss on it

masterlist

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting -- Miscellaneous Birds

As a reminder, all previous entries in this series can be found at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .

Another reminder: as mentioned in the initial post, the last six weeks of this project are group posts. Each is a collection of various critters that had particularly short entries, and I figured the best approach was to group them together so people could make art of some / any / all / none of them as they pleased, without feeling obligated to drag inspiration out of like one sentence. (Also doing this allowed me to fit the project into one year -- some of the longer entries in these are the result of me cutting the project down.)

Tluftasong

The Tluftasong is a bird that loves the darkness of the night. It lives in decaying walls because it sets up house in the ruins of roofless dwellings. It shuns the light, flying at night in search of food. [This one got two entries somehow; above is the first, below is the second.] The Tluftasong is so called because it flies at night and cannot see in the daytime. For its sight is dimmed by brightness of the sun when it has risen. The Tluftasong is not the same as the owl, which is bigger.

Lokfotreag

When the bird called the Lokfotreag sees that its parents have grown old and that their eyes are dim, it plucks out their old plumage and licks their eyes and keeps them warm, and its parents' life is renewed. [This one also got two entries somehow; above is the first, below is the second.] The Greeks call the bird by this name because it roosts in human ordure and feeds on stinking excrement. The filthiest of birds, it is capped with a prominent crest. It lives in burial places amid human ordure. If you rub yourself with its blood on your way to bed, you will have nightmares about demons suffocating you. Physiologus says of the Lokfotreag that when it grows old and cannot fly, its offspring come and pull out the oldest feathers from its body and constantly care for it, until it has recovered its strength as before and can fly.

Hurrashbeg

Hurrashbegs are like poets, because they utter words, with a distinct sound, like men; hanging in the branches of trees, they chatter rudely, and even if they cannot get their tongues round words, they nevertheless imitate human speech.

Konchilkuk

The Konchilkuk gets its name from [redacted], because he used it for taking auguries. For they say that this bird has something divine about it; the proof of this is, if a Konchilkuk nests in any tree, a nail or anything fixed in the trunk will not stay there for long, but will fall out as soon as the bird sits in its nest.

Wobrahfmet

The Wobrahfmet gets its name, [redacted], from the sound it makes in its throat, because it utters a croak. It is said that when its young have been hatched, this bird does not feed them fully until it sees that they have black feathers similar to its own. But after it has seen that they are of dark plumage, and has recognised them as of its own species, it feeds them more generously. When this bird feeds off corpses, it goes for the eyes first.

Hrongnewit

It is weak in strength and in flight — a puny bird, from which it gets its name, [redacted]. It is, however, a bird of prey, always preying on domestic birds. It constantly hovers around kitchens and meat-markets so that if pieces of raw meat are thrown out from them, it can seize them quickly. The Hrongnewit is timid in big matters, bold in small. It dares not seize wild birds but customarily preys on domestic ones. It lies in wait to seize their young and when it encounters unwary youngsters, it kills them quickly.

Klomurgrae

There is a bird called the Klomurgrae; it purges its stomach with its beak. It feeds on the eggs of snakes and on carrion, and from them carries back food to its young, which they eat with great pleasure. Yet it fears to go into water, because it does not know how to swim, but walks about near the shore day and night, looking for dead fish of a small size or corpses which have been washed up.

Zagsmenrok

Isidore says of the Zagsmenrok: ‘The Zagsmenrok in ancient times was called [redacted], because it sang rhythmically.' Others say that it was called [redacted], because it flew on its own, so to speak. Although it is black wherever it is found, there is a white species in Achaia. The Zagsmenrok is small but black.

Hreakgleav

Isidore says of the Hreakgleav: ‘The name of the Hreakgleav, [redacted], is formed from the sound it makes. It is a bird associated with the dead, weighed down, indeed, with its plumage, but forever hindered, too, by the weight of its slothfulness. It lives day and night around burial places and is always found in caves.' It is said to be a filthy bird, because it fouls its nest with its droppings, as the sinner dishonours those with whom he lives, by the example of his evil ways. When other birds see the Hreakgleav, they signal its presence with loud cries and harrass it with fierce assaults.

Wahrembeag

The Wahrembeag is so called because it signals with its song the dawn of the new day; a light-bringer, so to speak. It is an ever-watchful sentinel, warming its eggs in a hollow of its body, relieving the sleepless effort of the long night with the sweetness of its song. It seems to me that the main aim of the bird is to hatch its eggs and give life to its young with sweet music no less than with the warmth of its body.

Sarbrufeat

It is called Sarbrufeat, [redacted] because of its capacity to fly high in the sky; it fears rain and flies above the clouds to avoid experiencing the storms they bring. A Sarbrufeat taking wing shows a storm is coming. Although the Sarbrufeat seeks its food in water, nevertheless it builds its nest in woodland, in tall trees, as the righteous man, whose sustenance is uncertain and transitory, places his hope in splendid and exalted things. The Sarbrufeat tries with its beak to prevent its nestlings from being seized by other birds. Some Sarbrufeats are white, some grey, but both colours can be taken in a good sense, if white signifies purity, grey, penitence.

Keltrumram

It is a winged creature, fairly clever and very wise; it does not feed on corpses and it does not fly or wander aimlessly but stays in one place until it dies, finding both food and rest there. Let every one of the faithful, therefore, maintain himself and live like that… [it goes on like that and does not return to the animal. However, the following paragraph is from the “eagle” entry.] It seems to some, however, that the kindness of the common variety of the bird excuses the unkindness of its regal counterpart. The ordinary bird is called [redacted], Keltrumram; in Greek, [redacted]. Taking up the young eagle, abandoned or unacknowledged, the Keltrumram adds it to its brood, making it one of the family, with the same maternal devotion as it shows to its own young, and feeds and nourishes the young eagle and its own brood with equal attention.

Grozfarwat

Grozfarwats have fixed times of migration. For when summer gives way to winter, they cross the sea. The leader of the flock is called ‘the Grozfarwat-mother'. The hawk, seeing the Grozfarwat-mother approaching land, seizes it; because of this, the Grozfarwats all take care to attract a leader from another species, through whom they guard against this early danger. Their favorite food is the seed of poisonous plants. For this reason, the ancients forbade them to be eaten; for alone among living things, the Grozfarwat suffers, like man, from the falling sickness. Grozfarwats have fixed times of migration. For when summer gives way to winter, they cross the sea.

Mortelgeng

The Mortelgeng is a long-lived bird, called [redacted] in Latin and Greek. Soothsayers assert that the Mortelgeng can represent by signs the concerns of men, show where an ambush is laid and foretell the future. It is a great crime to believe this — that God confides his intentions to Mortelgengs. Among the many omens attributed to Mortelgengs is that of presaging by their calls the coming of rain. Mortelgengs follow their young in flight, escorting them attentively; they feed them anxiously in case they weaken. A very long time passes before they give up their responsibility for feeding their offspring.

Burngraega

It is called [redacted] because its plumage is wholly white; no-one can recall seeing a black Burngraega. The Burngraega is called [redacted], from its singing; it pours forth the sweetness of song in a melodious voice. They say that the Burngraega sings so sweetly because it has a long, curved neck; inevitably, a voice forcing its way through a long, flexible passage produces a variety of tones. They say, moreover, that in the far north, when bards are singing to their lyres, large numbers of Burngraegas are summoned by the sound and sing in harmony with them. Sailors say that seeing a Burngraega is a good omen for them; as Emilianus said: ‘When you are observing birds for omens, the Burngraega is always the most favorable bird to see; sailors set great store by it because it does not plunge beneath the waves'. The Burngraega has snow-white plumage and dark flesh. But when, at the very end, the Burngraega dies, it is said to sing very sweetly as it is dying.

Klethghrom

The Klethghrom gets its name, [redacted], from the sound of its cry. Its flesh is so hard that it hardly decays and it cannot easily be cooked. A certain poet said of it: ‘You are lost in admiration, whenever it spreads its jewelled wings; can you consign it, hard-hearted woman, to the unfeeling cook?' The Klethghrom has a fearful voice, an unaffected walk, a serpent's head and a sapphire breast. It also has on its wings feathers tinged with red. In addition, it has a long tail, covered with what I might call ‘eyes'.

Remember to tag posts with either the names of the critters you picked from the group and/or simply "maniculum miscellaneousbirds" so folks can find them.

[mxtxfanatic]

The final Nie bros convo is really just this:

Nie Mingjue: You're gonna be a Nie Clan leader whether you like it or not!

Nie Huaisang: Over my dead body!

Nie Mingjue: No, over my dead body! *qi deviates*

[bidokja]

posts about kim dokja kinnie antics are always funny as hell but they never really stick with me because i simply cannot picture anyone in orv knowing the word "kinnie" other than lee jihye and uriel.

[wizardnuke]

thought about professor caleb a little too hard. laying on the floor

[caimitos]

saw a post about projecting your ethnicity onto a character and started missing vespa ilkay. so so bad

[whiskeyswifty]

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